Writing is an entirely solitary effort. At the same time, it is also a communal event. Because we writers find out along the way that we need each other. For encouragement. For advice. For a sympathetic ear. For companionship in the lonely work of finding a way to put your heart and mind and soul into words on a page and have them mean anything at all. We have each other's backs. We have to.
I'm sharing some writing from those in my writing community, because I think you will enjoy these lovely pieces, and if you're like me, it's always exciting to discover new writers and follow their work. I used to keep a manila file folder with OPS written on the label (Other People's Stuff). Now I bookmark those works and save to an online folder.
From my writing group: Check out Eileen Drennen's beautiful, searching essay about mother love, "Under Glass," in Literary Mama. Erin McReynolds's stunning "Indicia," in the Kenyon Review about the aftermath of her mother's murder. This gorgeous flash essay about grief, "Notice," in Brevity Magazine by Jessica Handler.
From Albuquerque pal: Lauren DePino writes about life's openings and closings in this exquisite heart tug of an essay, "Have Separation Anxiety? Try Holding a Hinge." for The New York Times.
My Boone buddy, Leigh Ann Henion wrote about fireflies in this enchanting piece for The Washington Post, "The Profound Beauty of Firefly Tourism."
You can expect, from time to time, that I'll share other links with you. There is so much wonderful writing happening, and I'm honored to read, be inspired by, and spread the word about fellow writers. We are all working on books. We are each other's cheering section in this long, agonizingly slow process.
In the meantime, Roadcinante is still in the repair shop, diagnosis incomplete. It's going to be 100°F here in Albuquerque today. I wilt in that kind of heat, so I'll hide inside and enjoy the breeze from the swamp cooler.
Also, for no good reason whatsoever, here is a picture of my cat. Have a great weekend, everyone.
