I’m finishing a book at the moment, and I recently discovered that I hate a chapter title. Hate it. Loathe it. Despise it. Hate hate hate it. Were it alive, I would kill it, then do everything in my power to bring it back to life, just so I could kill it again.
Today my first book is “officially” released unto the world. The Shame of Losing was picked up by Red
Hen Press fall of 2015, so here I am, three years later, wondering how to be a book marketer meanwhile
not choke on my own self-promotional worry tears.
MFAW-VT alumna Cheryl Heller just launched The Intergalactic Design Guide, which illuminates a process for leading change that contradicts the prevalent assumption that the future is “someone else’s” responsibility. It’s a book about leaders who are doing what others consider impossible, and a map for how anyone who wants to step up can become one.
I’ve never kept a diary. At least not since I was eight, when my father bought two blank journals and suggested that he and I spend time together every evening writing in our diaries. For several weeks we did just that, sitting side by side on the living room couch and recording the events of the day. One day I came home from school and found my diary in the wrong place on the bookshelf. When I inquired about this, my dad said, “I have to admit something to you. I was so curious about what you’ve been writing that I couldn’t help myself, so I went in your room and read it.”
Books eat other books just as surely as hamsters eat their young. A friend of mine who raises pigs once told me a pig has to eat three pounds of feed for every single pound of meat it produces.
The Writer gave our very own all-faculty compilation, Alchemy of the Word, a nice shout-out. Congrats to all, especially the editors: Aimee, Kenny, and Nicky
On Writers, Writer’s Block, Generosity, Creativity and Community
The paragraph or so of writing in preparation for this post I began on an empty page of an old, located notebook, one that flips vertically like a police ticket or meter maid book, but unlike law enforcement trappings
MFAW-WA faculty member Keenan Norris has interviewed another MFAW-WA faculty member Micheline Aharonian Marcom about her work as Creative Director of the New American Story Project (NASP). The NASP is a collaboration of artists presenting oral histories and stories of immigrants
But beauty is still important, isn’t it? It seems to me and other fairly intelligent people in America, that we are living in a time when the failure to describe the time we are living in is truly mystifying. So, please bear with me—I will get to today’s reason for all of us being here, but I don’t know what to say to you today that somehow hasn’t come out of outrage and disbelief—outrage and disbelief at the fact that one of the last bastions of seemingly liberal thought—the fourth estate—has normalized an aberration.
Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about thrillers. About why recently I’ve been reading them compulsively at all hours of the day and night. Maybe the subject for a new book? I’m thinking about that. In the meantime I devour them at a great rate.
The Creative Independent, “a growing resource of emotional and practical guidance for creative people,” featured MFAW-VT faculty member Douglas A. Martin in their Sunday Edition Interview. Here is a taste: “My book began its life as a dissertation. My approach was something like
MFAW-VT Student–but just days away from turning into an alum–Ian August’s play INTERVIEWESE, is a winner of the Garry Marshall Theatre’s New Works Festival and will be getting a public reading on May 30th, directed by Carolyn Hennesy (General Hospital, Cougar Town). Ian will
What do writing, politics and the Tarot have in common? On November 7th, 2017, I was elected Town Supervisor of Pine Plains, New York.
Do you suppose Hannibal Lecter does his own laundry? It’s easy to see a white collar criminal doctor sending his whites out to be dry cleaned and pressed by an efficiently outsourced place with pink boxes. But I imagine, what with the blood stains and all, doing it himself is a better plan. So there he is in the basement—or, I guess he has one of those fancy laundry rooms on an upper floor with sunny yellow walls and a sign that says “Wash. Dry. Fold. Repeat.”— sorting whites and red and pulling out the bleach and hoping it doesn’t ruin his favorite sweater…