The End

I recently published my first edited book,  Labor of Love: A Literary Mama Staff Anthology ,  with  Small Harbor Publishing . It's an anthology of writing from  Literary Mama  staff over the past 20 years. It's a beautiful collection and I am proud of the writers and proud to share the book.  It seems a fitting moment, as I pondered sharing about the book here on the blog, to reflect on my life as a blogger, and acknowledge that it is time to officially end this blog.   I started blogging in about 2007, when my baby was learning to toddle, when I was learning how to be a mother and stepmother, when I was just starting to see my way as a writer. I needed it back then. I craved it. I had a variety of blog iterations--family, art, creativity, writing things I delved into. There's a freedom in blogging, a casualness, an easy familiarity that's lacking (for me anyway) in other kinds of writing. I loved blogging and the words came pouring out.  Over the years since then, some
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Balance Wednesday- Read Fiction




I read a lot of non-fiction. And usually too much of it. Right now I have one book going about the history of Nature writing, and also Sue Hubbell's Waiting for Aphrodite- a natural history book about invertebrates. Then there's Peter Matthiessen's The Snow Leopard, not to mention all the magazines- Orion, Plank Road, Backpacker.

 These are all lovely books, and fascinating reads. But after a long day of working, writing, parenting, I usually want some entertainment. I realized last night that I can't always be reading non-fiction. That does not exactly go with my need for balance. 


So I picked up a fiction book I found at a second-hand bookshop and sat down to let my mind relax. It's One Crazy Summer by Rita Williams-Garcia, and I was drawn in from the first line. That's the thing about fiction, if it's good fiction, you forget about your own life and are able to get wrapped up in someone else's for a while. 

 Non-fiction doesn't do that for me. I am always pausing to relate what I am reading to myself, to ponder the depth of what I feel, and to think further on what the author is saying. Non-fiction causes me to think more critically. Fiction allows for escape, and brings the reader on a trip, and eventually to some thoughtful conclusion.

 Snow leopards and starfish are great, but sometimes you just need one crazy summer to balance things out.

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