To my elementary school students, the writing process meant brainstorming ideas, mapping them out on a graphic worksheet, drafting (in pencil), sitting with me to revise and edit (add and erase), copying to nice paper (in pencil, then over again in “teacher pen”), drawing illustrations, and publishing (posting to a bulletin board). To my college…
On this final deadly Monday, my co-author Cheryl Wilder presents her examination of Pride in the writing life, and it's an eye-opener. How stealthy Pride can be, growing powerful and inciting other sins before we realize it. How deadly. I learned a great deal as we imagined, created, and revised this essay series. I learned…
Deadly Monday dawned foggy, but warmed and cleared by the afternoon when I took S. out for a walk. He fell asleep right away, which was unusual since his torticollis makes him nauseous and uncomfortable when strolling. Then I found an open bench in the hood, despite the park being closed since Hurricane Sandy ripped…
Greed is the antithesis of who I am, or at least of how I see myself. So it was mighty uncomfortable to go looking for it in every corner of the writing life and find it in me. I'm more grateful than ever to my co-author Cheryl Wilder and the writing friends we surveyed. I'm especially…
An ideal day for Gluttony. Snacks, canned food, baked goods, candy bars, bottled water, beer, wine ... all of it is piled on millions of kitchen counters as Hurricane Sandy bears down on us. I gaze at the mountain of apples on our table and think of pie, cobbler, danishes, turnovers. I don't know how…
Suzanne Farrell Smith 