Featured Posts
Memoir Moment — Holiday Sister Blues
What was a new baby anyway? I had dolls. Silent, inert, boring. One drank from a small plastic bottle and expelled water from a hole between its legs. Most uninteresting. If that’s what a baby was, I wanted no part of it.
Pardon Me While I Self-Promote. . . .
The Adirondack Center for Writing Presents a Two-Part 0nline workshop in memoir and fiction writing . . . . and the conjunction of the two.
Looking for Poetry? How about 39 Poems, by Charles Butler!!
All the poems lean on one another, leading us into hearts, minds, souls, beings that celebrate and suffer through to the end, where we see that the sum total is a stories lead to the same journey’s end.
carlastockton.me 