It’s been eight years since I walked out of the glass doors of Planned Parenthood with a can of Progresso soup and an emptiness food wouldn’t fix. I felt sick, depressed and ashamed. It was all in the pursuit of keeping my dead relationship together.  Oh, the loneliness that I felt that day. I had no one to talk to that I felt safe around. For years I feared putting my secret onto paper and immortalizing it. I was too afraid of being judged to share, to see if anyone else was walking around with this painful little world inside of them. A little world of emptiness where a spark, a life, a

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It’s been eight years since I walked out of the glass doors of Planned Parenthood with a can of Progresso soup and an emptiness food wouldn’t fix. I felt sick, depressed and ashamed. It was all in the pursuit of keeping my dead relationship together.  Oh, the loneliness that I felt that day. I had no one to talk to that I felt safe around. For years I feared putting my secret onto paper and immortalizing it. I was too afraid of being judged to share, to see if anyone else was walking around with this painful little world inside of them. A little world of emptiness where a spark, a life, a

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Posted in Reading

This article was written by Sarah L. Webb. I’m addicted to reading with a pen in my hand. So addicted, in fact, that I have to have a pen even when I’m reading on my Kindle. Not only am I addicted to reading with pens, but I’m also a pen pusher. My goal is to turn my adult students into pen users just like me (which is a lot harder than pushing pens to youth readers). I wasn’t always this way.

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This article was written by Sarah L. Webb. I’m addicted to reading with a pen in my hand. So addicted, in fact, that I have to have a pen even when I’m reading on my Kindle. Not only am I addicted to reading with pens, but I’m also a pen pusher. My goal is to turn my adult students into pen users just like me (which is a lot harder than pushing pens to youth readers). I wasn’t always this way.

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This is an essay by Chris Ciolli. Books and movies needn’t compete for our attention and affection. They’re two very different mediums, and they’ve got, as explained in an Williesha Morris’ earlier post , different needs and goals and use different tools to do the same thing—share a story with the world. In fact, although many readers and writers may loathe to admit it, movies and the books that inspire them enjoy a mutually beneficial relationship in which one feeds off and grows from the other. Less than convinced? Let me explain.

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This is an essay by Chris Ciolli. Books and movies needn’t compete for our attention and affection. They’re two very different mediums, and they’ve got, as explained in an Williesha Morris’ earlier post , different needs and goals and use different tools to do the same thing—share a story with the world. In fact, although many readers and writers may loathe to admit it, movies and the books that inspire them enjoy a mutually beneficial relationship in which one feeds off and grows from the other. Less than convinced? Let me explain.

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Posted in Books, Reading

This is an essay by Erika Dreifus. A funny thing happened as I immersed myself in the study and practice of writing: I found myself appreciating stories and poems about writing—works in which central characters are writers or central themes or actions involve aspects of craft, process, or business of writing—more and more. I say that this is “a funny thing” because the more I hear from other writers, the more it seems that I’m in a decided minority in my enjoyment of these works. Take the perspective articulated by Roxane Gay,

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This is an essay by Erika Dreifus. A funny thing happened as I immersed myself in the study and practice of writing: I found myself appreciating stories and poems about writing—works in which central characters are writers or central themes or actions involve aspects of craft, process, or business of writing—more and more. I say that this is “a funny thing” because the more I hear from other writers, the more it seems that I’m in a decided minority in my enjoyment of these works. Take the perspective articulated by Roxane Gay,

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Posted in Writing

This is an essay by Rhonda Kronyk. The list of categories we can choose reading material from is endless. Yet, as busy people, we often choose to read in the genre we write in and forget that all writers can learn from reading outside their genre. I admit that I’ve been guilty of letting my fiction reading slide this year as I work on my freelance writing and editing business. I miss reading novels, but never seem to make the time to fit them into my schedule. That is until my son introduced me to the Game of Thrones television series. I rarely read fantasy fiction, and I never watch it on

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This is an essay by Rhonda Kronyk. The list of categories we can choose reading material from is endless. Yet, as busy people, we often choose to read in the genre we write in and forget that all writers can learn from reading outside their genre. I admit that I’ve been guilty of letting my fiction reading slide this year as I work on my freelance writing and editing business. I miss reading novels, but never seem to make the time to fit them into my schedule. That is until my son introduced me to the Game of Thrones television series. I rarely read fantasy fiction, and I never watch it on

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Posted in Books, Lessons, Reading

This is an essay by John Kilhefner. It’s unnatural to lose the beat when we routinely read to ourselves or dutifully hammer words onto the page. Discovering the rhythm in the sound of words is akin to uncovering a new language — a language you perhaps once knew, but forgot. Like any other studious child, I read. I read the books I needed to read. Few of them, if any, interested me. Einstein once said intelligence is fostered in part from the fairy tales we consume well before school age. Toddlers find words exotic — being aloof to deeper meanings, their intrigue owes to the aesthetic; their continued intrigue to the reward

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This is an essay by John Kilhefner. It’s unnatural to lose the beat when we routinely read to ourselves or dutifully hammer words onto the page. Discovering the rhythm in the sound of words is akin to uncovering a new language — a language you perhaps once knew, but forgot. Like any other studious child, I read. I read the books I needed to read. Few of them, if any, interested me. Einstein once said intelligence is fostered in part from the fairy tales we consume well before school age. Toddlers find words exotic — being aloof to deeper meanings, their intrigue owes to the aesthetic; their continued intrigue to the reward

Read more

Posted in Reading

This is an essay by Taylor Church. I was not a bibliophile from the beginning. My love of books did not come until late in my adolescence. I never loathed literature, but reading books I found boring and irrelevant in school did not nurture a healthy longing to read. I mostly stuck to the basics: Garfield books, books about NBA players with copious amounts of pictures, and the occasional novel about Wayside Schools or perhaps a fictional baseball player trying to make it the big leagues. As my juvenility slowly progressed into my pubescent years, I began to form a somewhat broader interest in reading. But it only went further into

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This is an essay by Taylor Church. I was not a bibliophile from the beginning. My love of books did not come until late in my adolescence. I never loathed literature, but reading books I found boring and irrelevant in school did not nurture a healthy longing to read. I mostly stuck to the basics: Garfield books, books about NBA players with copious amounts of pictures, and the occasional novel about Wayside Schools or perhaps a fictional baseball player trying to make it the big leagues. As my juvenility slowly progressed into my pubescent years, I began to form a somewhat broader interest in reading. But it only went further into

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Posted in Books, Reading

This is an essay by Ashley Kabajani. The Question That Helped Me Being the last born in a huge family of seven (six girls and one boy), it is not easy when your older siblings all have found their purpose, gifts and talents. See, I come from a family of strong, established go-getters, and I always seemed like I was trying to follow in someone’s footsteps but never finding my own path. It all began when a friend of mine, who admires my siblings, gave me a call to ask me the strangest, yet most life-defining call. She asked me how I felt about being the last born when all my sisters and brothers are very successful

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This is an essay by Ashley Kabajani. The Question That Helped Me Being the last born in a huge family of seven (six girls and one boy), it is not easy when your older siblings all have found their purpose, gifts and talents. See, I come from a family of strong, established go-getters, and I always seemed like I was trying to follow in someone’s footsteps but never finding my own path. It all began when a friend of mine, who admires my siblings, gave me a call to ask me the strangest, yet most life-defining call. She asked me how I felt about being the last born when all my sisters and brothers are very successful

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Posted in Reading, Writing

This is an essay by Susan Sundwall. It’s an interesting word, genre, a bit snooty sounding. It means kind or type. If someone asks what sort of writing you do, they expect a genre answer. The question frequently stumps me. My first mystery was recently published, so you’d think I’d answer “mystery,” but the word tends to stick in my throat. There’s a hesitation there, because I don’t want this asker to think that’s all I write – I’m broader than that. I don’t want her to think that’s all I read, either. Yeah, I’m broader and, dare I say, more beautiful than that, too, because of the poetry. It’s true

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This is an essay by Susan Sundwall. It’s an interesting word, genre, a bit snooty sounding. It means kind or type. If someone asks what sort of writing you do, they expect a genre answer. The question frequently stumps me. My first mystery was recently published, so you’d think I’d answer “mystery,” but the word tends to stick in my throat. There’s a hesitation there, because I don’t want this asker to think that’s all I write – I’m broader than that. I don’t want her to think that’s all I read, either. Yeah, I’m broader and, dare I say, more beautiful than that, too, because of the poetry. It’s true

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Posted in Books, Reading

This is an essay by C. Witter. In this digital age of e-books and mail-delivery online book stores, many commentators seem to suggest the printed book is an anachronism. But, one thing these prophets of techno-literacy elide is the joy of browsing the shelves of a good bookshop. And for me, though I generally detest shopping, few things are as relaxing and curious as the second-hand bookshop. One of the most wonderful things about second-hand bookshops is the element of chance – of serendipity. Click up your internet browser and, within seconds, you can locate almost any book you can name – to read online, to buy online, to search and

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This is an essay by C. Witter. In this digital age of e-books and mail-delivery online book stores, many commentators seem to suggest the printed book is an anachronism. But, one thing these prophets of techno-literacy elide is the joy of browsing the shelves of a good bookshop. And for me, though I generally detest shopping, few things are as relaxing and curious as the second-hand bookshop. One of the most wonderful things about second-hand bookshops is the element of chance – of serendipity. Click up your internet browser and, within seconds, you can locate almost any book you can name – to read online, to buy online, to search and

Read more

Posted in Books, Reading