I love the restraint in this piece, the brevity, all the white space between the words. So much is unsaid, which is so fitting for the topic. Part of the injustice of being infertile is the silence around it, and the way it silences others around the person who is infertile--which results in resisting urges to writhe in pleasure. I come to this from long experience with infertility, and the details chosen for the sister-in-law say so much to me: folding the clothes neatly and placing the panties discreetly under the jeans, situating the opening of the flimsy smock in the back. Trying to do things right, control something, and maintain some semblance of modesty/privacy when there is absolutely none in the situation. Because of my history, I often do not like pieces about infertility--even those written by women who are infertile, even after eventually being able to bear children. To feel so seen in a piece written by a woman who was able to achieve pregnancy and birth easily: Wow. This is just beautiful, poetry more than prose.
“To feel so seen in a piece written by a woman who was able to achieve pregnancy and birth easily” 🥹😭
this resonates with how I’m experiencing WITD as a reader AND writer. The exercises lend to writing in a container that allows for beauty in the ever so personal to distant and yet universal.
Cassidy, that's so insightful, generous, and beautiful. And one thing I always say--it comes up in nearly every class I teach--is that we are wise to remember that the truly universal lives only in the highly specific.
I love that about flash in general, how it blurs the lines between poetry and prose, and this piece specifically does such a beautiful job of spanning that divide.
Yes--I wrote above about identifying with the sister-in-law, but there's so much in the moments between the mother and daughter in the kitchen, too. (I just didn't want to go on and on 🙂)
First- congratulations, Phyllis!!! So happy for you and for taking the plunge!
Now, Sarah!! Deb’s Passover macaroons!! Wow- the “ pulverized Easter Bunny”— wow, just wow. I knew the recipe from that description before you connected it. And so many associations for someone my age with rabbits, fertility— incredible. I am indeed how grounded this feels and in control while flying free, but in a way that creates deeper meaning for the piece, not as something separate. You make it look effortless, but I know- KNOW- it is not. This warrants reading again and again to let it unfold. Kind of like repeating a beloved recipe… And baking raspberries— YES.
Ohmygosh, CHILLS! Just wow, Sarah. This is, well, I'm sitting here trying to find a word: delicious, visceral, touchable, poignant, it reaches inside something and tells it from there. The ending - yes whoof. So unexpected and so again, visceral. The image of course of the bunny in the blender, and how that makes me think of an abortion, or scrambled eggs - sometimes the ones with a little blood in them - so much fertility metaphor here. The lovely intimacy of you and your daughter. Your hand over hers, there are so many little details here that put me in that kitchen. The curdled milk! That sourness sliding down the throat before we realize it's gone over. That too, as it relates to sex, being pregnant, being naked with a doctor. This piece is just so rich. It just draws me in.
Beautiful close reading, Imola. Sarah added her hand over her daughter's during our editorial process and I also think it adds so much. There's so much subtlety here, which only adds to the richness.
This is opening up even more avenues I resisted on my first readings—thank you, Jocelyn for your unflinching eye, and firm hand to guide me through it safely again. Surprised at all this piece and the comments are evoking in me- which means — home run, Sarah! Grateful for all of you.
Emiily, it's so interesting you say resisted, because I felt resistance this morning in writing what really came up for me, but this space is so safe, I did it anyway. Now I'm so glad that was helpful for you! xo
Stunning piece of writing!! And I absolutely loved how the recipe folded in the essay. A stroke of genius! Beautiful, evocative images that made me feel like I was with you in your kitchen. And now I have a craving for raspberries!
Also, Congratulations Phyllis U!! We can never give up trying. Submitting increases your chances from 0 to 0.000001 at least ;)
Some day I will write more about it, but I am a big believer in normalizing rejection and seeing it as a healthy part of our artistic process. I have had some of my best and even award-winning work rejected so many times, sometimes by places that were far "lower" tier than the places that accepted it. Rejection can paradoxically give us confidence in our work as we come to understand which parts of this are objective, and which parts are subjective. In that way, we begin to learn to trust ourselves and our own discernment more and more and more.
Sometime I want to write about an experience I had at a conference for writers and illustrators of children's books. We were all encouraged to submit a first manuscript page, and an editor from a large publishing company sat on a stage and read each of them as if she were encountering them in a pile of submissions. She read aloud--as far as she would before stopping--and shared her thoughts about each one. The goal was for her to want to read a second page. She read/commented for 45 minutes before getting to one that she wanted to read further. It was the best session of any conference I've ever attended. It absolutely normalized rejection, and it showed me so much about how many things other than the quality of your writing are at play. Quality is a baseline, but good pieces can be rejected for all kinds of reasons. There was something so powerful about seeing that in action, as opposed to just hearing it.
Yes!!! I have been to a similar session at the Loft in 2015, except it was agents, not editors, but totally the same principal. I have also been an editor long enough to know that what you say is exactly right. Quality IS at baseline, AND there are SO MANY other factors.
The pulverized Easter bunny! Amazing, I can picture it in the food processor so clearly. I love the "folding" you did between the recipe, those delightful moments of play with a child and the sterility and awkwardness of a doctor's office. I have been combing Visceral Self exercises to re-do for my medical procedure poems project. I wrote a draft about the sensations of putting in a chest tube last week. I think it's pretty good raw material, but I think that folding it with human stories might be a cool experiment. I think this will be a great one to try because usually in text books they are written as step by step instructions almost like a recipe.
Amy, this piece in progress about putting in a chest tube soiunds really amazing, and the folding sounds full of promise. If you enter into it with a sense of curiosity and detachment, it could be so interesting to see what emerges.
I would very much like to read your writing about the sensations of the chest tube, Amy! I find myself writing about medical procedures more and more these days. I think it's because I've never felt empowered in medical settings. Writing about it is my way of asserting my personhood and gender experience in that space.
Thanks, this is one of my first writing ideas that I'm really, really excited about because it feels like something that very few other people could do. I wonder if that's part of what I'm doing with my writing from a different angle because the practice of medicine is so disembodied. What you are saying makes me wonder if there's a place for writing a couple of these with a collaborator who has experienced the procedure and weaving it together kind of how you weaved your two stories together here.
I love all of this, Amy. Remember, too (and I am basing this in part on our previous conversations, including in person at the symposium), that you--you, Amy, your ordinary, everyday self--also has a place on the page, if she wants to speak. Her voice, as a part of this stunning chorus of medical observation you are beginning to envision, is equally wise and important. I hope this makes sense.
Jeannine, thank you for showcasing this excellent essay and the process of it getting to completion.
Sarah, bravo! I loved it. I haven't got to this exercise yet so I look forward to it because I find myself yearning to try writing from a recipe. You did, indeed, fold all the different parts together to create something beautiful. Keeping the piece as short as you did increased the impact and the pulverized Easter bunny was its crowning glory. I instantly read that line twice it was so good!
I feel the impact of the brevity in this piece as well. As much as I wanted more -- I loved that it let me do so much of the work and left me wanting ... more, even while wholly sated. That's a beautiful feeling.
Hooray for Sarah! I have been to WCDH -- won a fellowship in 2010 to work on my first cookbook. It's been a while but happy to answer any questions you might have about the experience or Eureka. From Kim, who is currently writer in residence in Mobile Bay!
Aww..glad you appreciate it. It's almost a "thing" I realized. That only a woman could write - the cooking, the meaning with which we crèate a home, prepare food, teach our daughters to do the same by modeling. Then, bringing life into the world and wanting to do it with ease and the way nature planned for it. It is a very powerful piece you wrote. Thank you!!!!
What a wonderful piece this is, an absolute joy to real. There is so much depth to it, and I found myself utterly mesmerised, even reading every word of the recipe.
It's interesting how we bring our own filters to what we read, isn't it? My most recent frame of reference for hospitals is my mother's cancer journey and death. And my brother died many years ago. So I was reading the piece expecting it to be about doing every day things in the midst of grief and loss. I felt deeply emotional when I realised what the hospital visit was for, a different sort of pain for her sister. Thank you Sarah 💜
Beautiful writing, Sarah. I didn't understand fully before I read this how braided writing works. You apparently effortlessly braided three strands into a delicious whole and also made me want to experience those raspberries. Wow! So evocative.
Congratulations, Phyllis! How inspirational and encouraging your bravery and success are! Thank you for sharing with all of us. This is such a warmly supportive group. Taking chances is much less scary here.
Sarah, your piece just hit me in so many ways, as everyone prior has remarked. The most moving, for me, were the specifics eluded to, not expressed. As soon as you described the hiding of the panties discreetly under the jeans, I knew where she was, and felt her desperately trying to retain some dignity and privacy, while wrangling that backless gown we have all donned, and felt so vulnerable and exposed.
The juxtaposition of seeking medical intervention in her struggle to conceive, set against what comes frequently and plentifully to those doggone rabbits, also was genius.
I loved the tenderness and gentleness with your daughter, even when she loses her grip and we all hear that POP of the glass hitting the floor, as the milk oozes in every direction - such beautiful imagery on so many levels.
It’s the way you plucked my heartstrings that impressed me most. Grabbing the bowl you purchased before you ever were a mom, and sharing the experience of baking from scratch with your daughter felt very much like a full circle moment - as if this task is what you had in mind when you bought that bowl so long ago. I could also feel your empathy and compassion for your sister-in-law and the journey she is on. I felt the hope that soon she will be creating memories like this with her own child. Such a beautifully tender acknowledgement of the strength, bravery and tenacity it takes to embark on such a journey. Kudos and congrats!! Well done!!
This comment filled me with so much awe for the journey I have had with my kids--that bowl from a different life, the tenderness of the way these objects span time, the moments we share that transcend time and even geography. This is beautiful, Kathleen.
I love this piece … particularly the colours (the red swirling and the milk white spreading ) and that detail about the discrete panties under the jeans - such a powerful way to express the experience of medical intervention, how we try to preserve some of our dignity. I love the reflections too. Really useful learning from your process - the braiding and being clear about how daughter was conceived. Appreciated too the silver bowl from the Bowery - great way to deal w the past and let it sit in this present of motherhood. Thank you! I’ve been away from my writing for months now, questioning my paid subscriber wastefulness but just looking today, reading this, I’m inspired/reminded and might just have to have a go at the exercise! Thank you thank you
Stunning, Sarah! The structure, the simplicity, the scents. The folded panties tucked under the jeans, the question about how easy it is for some to get pregnant (and the alliteration with beds, backseats and bathroom stalls!!!) The whole essay is as delicious as the recipe, which I’m now inspired to try. Actually, I’m inspired to to try writing an essay with a recipe structure like this. Congrats and thank you!
Also meant to say - as a childless person who has experienced multiple losses, I feel warmed by the loving aboutness of this piece. I’ll be thinking of it for a long time.
Oh, Jeannine, I already wrote to this prompt, but after reading Sarah’s essay (recipe), I need to write another version! Hah! And the food writing, only luscious if you like to eat seafood, that was my thing.
This is just beautiful Sarah. It's so concise and yet so rich with poignant, visceral images. As others have said I love how the recipe folds into the essay. And - "you took off your clothes and folded them neatly in the corner, placing your panties discreetly beneath the jeans." - this image just stood out so clearly to me, brought up a flood of memories and emotion.
Stunning!
(P.S: the Untamed Thing prompt is one of my all time favorites! I've used it several times and the results have always surprised me!)
Well, you already have courage. That’s clear in your writing! Take all the time you need to know it’s the version of itself it wants to be, and when you are ready, I will be excited to read!
I love the restraint in this piece, the brevity, all the white space between the words. So much is unsaid, which is so fitting for the topic. Part of the injustice of being infertile is the silence around it, and the way it silences others around the person who is infertile--which results in resisting urges to writhe in pleasure. I come to this from long experience with infertility, and the details chosen for the sister-in-law say so much to me: folding the clothes neatly and placing the panties discreetly under the jeans, situating the opening of the flimsy smock in the back. Trying to do things right, control something, and maintain some semblance of modesty/privacy when there is absolutely none in the situation. Because of my history, I often do not like pieces about infertility--even those written by women who are infertile, even after eventually being able to bear children. To feel so seen in a piece written by a woman who was able to achieve pregnancy and birth easily: Wow. This is just beautiful, poetry more than prose.
What a gorgeous close reading from a deeply personal perspective, Rita. I am very moved by this and I imagine Sarah will be, too.
“To feel so seen in a piece written by a woman who was able to achieve pregnancy and birth easily” 🥹😭
this resonates with how I’m experiencing WITD as a reader AND writer. The exercises lend to writing in a container that allows for beauty in the ever so personal to distant and yet universal.
Cassidy, that's so insightful, generous, and beautiful. And one thing I always say--it comes up in nearly every class I teach--is that we are wise to remember that the truly universal lives only in the highly specific.
Yes, me too.
It felt the same to me! More poetry than prose! Loved it.
I love that about flash in general, how it blurs the lines between poetry and prose, and this piece specifically does such a beautiful job of spanning that divide.
It really does. I love the musicality in the language. The last two lines read like a couplet.
Yes! I see that too.
Rita, this means so much to me! Thank you for sharing your reactions to the piece. I'm going to save your words close to my heart.
What a tender, nuanced read, and point of view— thank you for this. There are so many ways into this piece and that makes it so rich!
Yes--I wrote above about identifying with the sister-in-law, but there's so much in the moments between the mother and daughter in the kitchen, too. (I just didn't want to go on and on 🙂)
This is so powerful, Rita. ❤️❤️❤️
First- congratulations, Phyllis!!! So happy for you and for taking the plunge!
Now, Sarah!! Deb’s Passover macaroons!! Wow- the “ pulverized Easter Bunny”— wow, just wow. I knew the recipe from that description before you connected it. And so many associations for someone my age with rabbits, fertility— incredible. I am indeed how grounded this feels and in control while flying free, but in a way that creates deeper meaning for the piece, not as something separate. You make it look effortless, but I know- KNOW- it is not. This warrants reading again and again to let it unfold. Kind of like repeating a beloved recipe… And baking raspberries— YES.
The pulverized Easter Bunny is truly unforgettable!
yes! and I am drawn to read it over and over, it pulls me in.
Truly.
Thank you, Emily!
Ohmygosh, CHILLS! Just wow, Sarah. This is, well, I'm sitting here trying to find a word: delicious, visceral, touchable, poignant, it reaches inside something and tells it from there. The ending - yes whoof. So unexpected and so again, visceral. The image of course of the bunny in the blender, and how that makes me think of an abortion, or scrambled eggs - sometimes the ones with a little blood in them - so much fertility metaphor here. The lovely intimacy of you and your daughter. Your hand over hers, there are so many little details here that put me in that kitchen. The curdled milk! That sourness sliding down the throat before we realize it's gone over. That too, as it relates to sex, being pregnant, being naked with a doctor. This piece is just so rich. It just draws me in.
Beautiful close reading, Imola. Sarah added her hand over her daughter's during our editorial process and I also think it adds so much. There's so much subtlety here, which only adds to the richness.
Thank you so much for your attentive reading, Jocelyn!
This is opening up even more avenues I resisted on my first readings—thank you, Jocelyn for your unflinching eye, and firm hand to guide me through it safely again. Surprised at all this piece and the comments are evoking in me- which means — home run, Sarah! Grateful for all of you.
Emiily, it's so interesting you say resisted, because I felt resistance this morning in writing what really came up for me, but this space is so safe, I did it anyway. Now I'm so glad that was helpful for you! xo
Good for you, Jocelyn!!
💜
Stunning piece of writing!! And I absolutely loved how the recipe folded in the essay. A stroke of genius! Beautiful, evocative images that made me feel like I was with you in your kitchen. And now I have a craving for raspberries!
Also, Congratulations Phyllis U!! We can never give up trying. Submitting increases your chances from 0 to 0.000001 at least ;)
And those are odds we can live with, as long as we know we're growing as artists, as long as we know we're still discovering, right?! xoxoxo
Absolutely! Always! We are forever growing as artists and human beings through writing. So nothing to lose!
Some day I will write more about it, but I am a big believer in normalizing rejection and seeing it as a healthy part of our artistic process. I have had some of my best and even award-winning work rejected so many times, sometimes by places that were far "lower" tier than the places that accepted it. Rejection can paradoxically give us confidence in our work as we come to understand which parts of this are objective, and which parts are subjective. In that way, we begin to learn to trust ourselves and our own discernment more and more and more.
Sometime I want to write about an experience I had at a conference for writers and illustrators of children's books. We were all encouraged to submit a first manuscript page, and an editor from a large publishing company sat on a stage and read each of them as if she were encountering them in a pile of submissions. She read aloud--as far as she would before stopping--and shared her thoughts about each one. The goal was for her to want to read a second page. She read/commented for 45 minutes before getting to one that she wanted to read further. It was the best session of any conference I've ever attended. It absolutely normalized rejection, and it showed me so much about how many things other than the quality of your writing are at play. Quality is a baseline, but good pieces can be rejected for all kinds of reasons. There was something so powerful about seeing that in action, as opposed to just hearing it.
Yes!!! I have been to a similar session at the Loft in 2015, except it was agents, not editors, but totally the same principal. I have also been an editor long enough to know that what you say is exactly right. Quality IS at baseline, AND there are SO MANY other factors.
I really like this idea of normalizing rejection. And this: “we begin to learn to trust ourselves and our own discernment more and more and more.”
The pulverized Easter bunny! Amazing, I can picture it in the food processor so clearly. I love the "folding" you did between the recipe, those delightful moments of play with a child and the sterility and awkwardness of a doctor's office. I have been combing Visceral Self exercises to re-do for my medical procedure poems project. I wrote a draft about the sensations of putting in a chest tube last week. I think it's pretty good raw material, but I think that folding it with human stories might be a cool experiment. I think this will be a great one to try because usually in text books they are written as step by step instructions almost like a recipe.
Amy, this piece in progress about putting in a chest tube soiunds really amazing, and the folding sounds full of promise. If you enter into it with a sense of curiosity and detachment, it could be so interesting to see what emerges.
I agree!
I would very much like to read your writing about the sensations of the chest tube, Amy! I find myself writing about medical procedures more and more these days. I think it's because I've never felt empowered in medical settings. Writing about it is my way of asserting my personhood and gender experience in that space.
Thanks, this is one of my first writing ideas that I'm really, really excited about because it feels like something that very few other people could do. I wonder if that's part of what I'm doing with my writing from a different angle because the practice of medicine is so disembodied. What you are saying makes me wonder if there's a place for writing a couple of these with a collaborator who has experienced the procedure and weaving it together kind of how you weaved your two stories together here.
I love all of this, Amy. Remember, too (and I am basing this in part on our previous conversations, including in person at the symposium), that you--you, Amy, your ordinary, everyday self--also has a place on the page, if she wants to speak. Her voice, as a part of this stunning chorus of medical observation you are beginning to envision, is equally wise and important. I hope this makes sense.
I love your language about inserting personhood and gender in a medical space through writing, Sarah. This piece contributes to that in its way.
Jeannine, thank you for showcasing this excellent essay and the process of it getting to completion.
Sarah, bravo! I loved it. I haven't got to this exercise yet so I look forward to it because I find myself yearning to try writing from a recipe. You did, indeed, fold all the different parts together to create something beautiful. Keeping the piece as short as you did increased the impact and the pulverized Easter bunny was its crowning glory. I instantly read that line twice it was so good!
I feel the impact of the brevity in this piece as well. As much as I wanted more -- I loved that it let me do so much of the work and left me wanting ... more, even while wholly sated. That's a beautiful feeling.
It's a beautiful feeling and difficult to do!
Very!
Hooray for Sarah! I have been to WCDH -- won a fellowship in 2010 to work on my first cookbook. It's been a while but happy to answer any questions you might have about the experience or Eureka. From Kim, who is currently writer in residence in Mobile Bay!
Amazing, Kim! I hope Phyllis sees this later today. And congrats on Mobile Bay. And, yes, YAY FOR SARAH! <3 <3
May I say this writing is so stunningly feminine? And powerful like the presence of a goddess.
Oh, I love this comment--yes, it is so feminine in so many ways. I loved Sarah's author note about that, too.
Wow, thank you, Alecia! I’m going to write “stunningly feminine” somewhere I can see it while I write this week.
Aww..glad you appreciate it. It's almost a "thing" I realized. That only a woman could write - the cooking, the meaning with which we crèate a home, prepare food, teach our daughters to do the same by modeling. Then, bringing life into the world and wanting to do it with ease and the way nature planned for it. It is a very powerful piece you wrote. Thank you!!!!
What a wonderful piece this is, an absolute joy to real. There is so much depth to it, and I found myself utterly mesmerised, even reading every word of the recipe.
It's interesting how we bring our own filters to what we read, isn't it? My most recent frame of reference for hospitals is my mother's cancer journey and death. And my brother died many years ago. So I was reading the piece expecting it to be about doing every day things in the midst of grief and loss. I felt deeply emotional when I realised what the hospital visit was for, a different sort of pain for her sister. Thank you Sarah 💜
I love how you describe the meaning unfolding for you, Esther, what a thoughtful comment.
Beautiful writing, Sarah. I didn't understand fully before I read this how braided writing works. You apparently effortlessly braided three strands into a delicious whole and also made me want to experience those raspberries. Wow! So evocative.
Thank you, Maureen!
Congratulations, Phyllis! How inspirational and encouraging your bravery and success are! Thank you for sharing with all of us. This is such a warmly supportive group. Taking chances is much less scary here.
Sarah, your piece just hit me in so many ways, as everyone prior has remarked. The most moving, for me, were the specifics eluded to, not expressed. As soon as you described the hiding of the panties discreetly under the jeans, I knew where she was, and felt her desperately trying to retain some dignity and privacy, while wrangling that backless gown we have all donned, and felt so vulnerable and exposed.
The juxtaposition of seeking medical intervention in her struggle to conceive, set against what comes frequently and plentifully to those doggone rabbits, also was genius.
I loved the tenderness and gentleness with your daughter, even when she loses her grip and we all hear that POP of the glass hitting the floor, as the milk oozes in every direction - such beautiful imagery on so many levels.
It’s the way you plucked my heartstrings that impressed me most. Grabbing the bowl you purchased before you ever were a mom, and sharing the experience of baking from scratch with your daughter felt very much like a full circle moment - as if this task is what you had in mind when you bought that bowl so long ago. I could also feel your empathy and compassion for your sister-in-law and the journey she is on. I felt the hope that soon she will be creating memories like this with her own child. Such a beautifully tender acknowledgement of the strength, bravery and tenacity it takes to embark on such a journey. Kudos and congrats!! Well done!!
This comment filled me with so much awe for the journey I have had with my kids--that bowl from a different life, the tenderness of the way these objects span time, the moments we share that transcend time and even geography. This is beautiful, Kathleen.
I love this piece … particularly the colours (the red swirling and the milk white spreading ) and that detail about the discrete panties under the jeans - such a powerful way to express the experience of medical intervention, how we try to preserve some of our dignity. I love the reflections too. Really useful learning from your process - the braiding and being clear about how daughter was conceived. Appreciated too the silver bowl from the Bowery - great way to deal w the past and let it sit in this present of motherhood. Thank you! I’ve been away from my writing for months now, questioning my paid subscriber wastefulness but just looking today, reading this, I’m inspired/reminded and might just have to have a go at the exercise! Thank you thank you
I loved the silver bowl so much too, Hayley. Welcome back. xoxo
Stunning, Sarah! The structure, the simplicity, the scents. The folded panties tucked under the jeans, the question about how easy it is for some to get pregnant (and the alliteration with beds, backseats and bathroom stalls!!!) The whole essay is as delicious as the recipe, which I’m now inspired to try. Actually, I’m inspired to to try writing an essay with a recipe structure like this. Congrats and thank you!
The folded panties, the folded recipe, the folded essay. It's so layered and nuanced. It's so good!
Also meant to say - as a childless person who has experienced multiple losses, I feel warmed by the loving aboutness of this piece. I’ll be thinking of it for a long time.
This is a beautiful, tender thing to share, Monika. I admire you so much and am so glad our paths are intertwined.
Jeannine ♥️ Thank you for saying this. The feeling is 100% mutual. I’m so grateful for you, friend.
Thanks so much, Monika!
magnificent!
It really is. Thanks for reading, Jill. xoxo
This is so lush and vivid! I love the braiding! As an ex-food writer, now I must write to that prompt!
Oh!!! I did not know you are an ex-food writer, Maureen. How luscious.
Oh, Jeannine, I already wrote to this prompt, but after reading Sarah’s essay (recipe), I need to write another version! Hah! And the food writing, only luscious if you like to eat seafood, that was my thing.
This is just beautiful Sarah. It's so concise and yet so rich with poignant, visceral images. As others have said I love how the recipe folds into the essay. And - "you took off your clothes and folded them neatly in the corner, placing your panties discreetly beneath the jeans." - this image just stood out so clearly to me, brought up a flood of memories and emotion.
Stunning!
(P.S: the Untamed Thing prompt is one of my all time favorites! I've used it several times and the results have always surprised me!)
Whoa, Flavia, I love hearing that!!! Haha, wow, that is amazing! I would love to see some of your pieces that came from it!
I will definitely attempt to revise one and try to sum up the courage to submit it to you eventually! ❤️
Well, you already have courage. That’s clear in your writing! Take all the time you need to know it’s the version of itself it wants to be, and when you are ready, I will be excited to read!
Thank you so much Jeannine ❤️ your kindness and encouragement is what helps me (and I'd bet a lot of others) be brave in my writing.
Yes!