Category: Blog posts

Writing Under Giant Trees ~ A View From The Keyboard of Hosho McCreesh

On the wonderful Hypertext Magazine site, Hosho McCreesh spoke a bit about his intriguing new novel, CHINESE GUCCI, and his complicated narrator: “For me, Akira represents many things about America, and masculinity that I hate. In an almost allegorical sense, I want a reader to feel about Akira the way I feel about America. America is […]

The Writer’s Handful with Terry H. Watkins

Mondays + Writers = Finally something to look forward to! Today we hear from Terry H. Watkins, whose brand new and affecting novel, Darling Girl, will celebrate its book birthday this week. Kirkus Reviews had lots of good things to say about this coming of age story, including this: “a powerful drama that impressively manages to both […]

The Writer’s Handful with Megan Alice

Mondays + Writers = Finally something to look forward to! Okay, so when I was seventeen I wrote poems (didn’t we all?) and hid them away in notebooks and folded sheets of paper stuffed under my socks in my dresser. Today, in the Writer’s Handful, I want to introduce to you the seventeen-year-old poet Megan […]

The Writer’s Handful with Sarah Ward

Mondays + Writers = Finally something to look forward to! Today’s Writer’s Handful is a conversation with Vermont writer, Sarah Ward, whose new book, Aesop Lake, was just released in paperback from Green Writers Press. This young adult novel is no light-hearted romp among the unicorns and fields of daisies, but instead tells a story […]

Writing in a Moment of Crisis ~ A View From the Keyboard of Greg Olear

If you know me at all, you know that I am a sucker for kitty cats in the writing space. (Kitty cats anywhere, really.) Greg Olear, the founding editor of The Weeklings and the author of the novels Totally Killer and Fathermucker shares his space with this little guy. And also if you know me at […]

TBT: Wagon Wheels Day Camp

First day of camp; I was seven, Roger nine. We wore matching sneakers. I wished we were twins; in a couple of years I would cut my hair short and dress like a boy sometimes, hoping people thought we were. We waited for the bus each morning at the end of our driveway on Greenwood […]