From a woman who enters an elite writing program at the age of forty, and pro As every writer knows, keeping the faith isn't always easy. From a woman who enters an elite writing program at the age of forty, and proceeds to blow "the pros" away, to a man who wins his wife's hand by writing her countless love letters.
Whether you're already published or as yet undiscovered, A Cup of Comfort for Writers will inspire you, motivate you, and fuel the fire that keeps you writing. Get A Copy. Paperback , pages. Published September 1st by Cup of Comfort first published More Details Other Editions 1. Friend Reviews. To see what your friends thought of this book, please sign up. To ask other readers questions about A Cup of Comfort for Writers , please sign up. Be the first to ask a question about A Cup of Comfort for Writers.
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Sort order. Mar 16, Aida rated it it was ok. I picked out this book imagining that it'll get me inspired to write as a quote I read somewhere during my teenage years that "Those who read will write" There's nothing inspiring to read about and I decided to lay it down and take another to fill my time with. If you know me well, you will know that I' I picked out this book imagining that it'll get me inspired to write as a quote I read somewhere during my teenage years that "Those who read will write" If you know me well, you will know that I'm not the kind who will leave a book unfinished.
Adourian that made me cry. So, this book is definitely a keep, though ,maybe won't be the one that I'll constantly re-read but it's surely a keep! Most of the stories are very short, on average 5 pages, so there are quite a few contained in this small volume. However, in order to get the rating of 3. I thought that would give this book a realistic and un-biased by me rating.
Overall, 3. There are some great moments of inspiration, sympathy, and empathy. I did really enjoy many of the messages that these authors were trying to get across.
A Cup Of Comfort For Writers: Inspirational Stories That Celebrate The Literary Life
Most of them discuss how easily life gets in the way of the things we want to accomplish and sometimes it takes a long time to get around to our hopes and aspirations when there are so many other things to get around to. The idea I liked most is that just because your work is not widely published, or maybe not even published at all, you are still a writer.
Many of these stories are inspiring and heartwarming. I noticed that this book is a bit hard to find, but if you do come across it, pick it up and give it a chance. Review originally published on my Wordpress blog Dreaming Through Literature. Nov 24, Sarah Joyce Bryant rated it really liked it. As I began my journey into the writing life, I went in search of books that would inspire me - especially when I felt like giving up.
This book did exactly that and more.
Some of the essays addressed the follies experienced by new writers when sending their work out into the world and others addressed the feelings associated with the inevitable rejections letters that follow. What I gained from reading this book was a sense of camaraderie with other writers that have blazed this trail before me As I began my journey into the writing life, I went in search of books that would inspire me - especially when I felt like giving up.
What I gained from reading this book was a sense of camaraderie with other writers that have blazed this trail before me and have experienced what I am experiencing now. It is good to know that others have had doubts, felt like giving up, or struggled with finding the time to write. This book will make a nice addition to any aspiring or experienced writer's collection and I believe each will find themselves reflected in these pages.
Dec 18, Lisa Glase rated it liked it. This a book that probably only a writer could love - and since I'm a fledgling writer, I loved it! The stories were definitely "comforting" to me as the title suggests and made me feel I'm not alone in my insecurities about my writing. Even seasoned writers run into road blocks or writer's block! Thanks Suzanne, for the loan! Aug 23, Sabina rated it it was ok Shelves: dnf. Jan 09, Andi rated it liked it. A gentle read a bit at a time. These essays inspire me to think like a writer and to have compassion for all the challenges of getting words down and out there.
Feb 13, Airiz C rated it it was amazing Shelves: non-fiction , inspirational. A friend gave this to me as a gift, and it's the first "A Cup of Comfort" book that I've ever read. Writers--professional or otherwise--share their stories about their journey towards their dream of penning their own books, encountering a lot of experiences most of them life-changing along the way. This is a great help for me. As an aspiring writer myself, I know that the road to being a successful novelist isn't a well-paved or a well-paid path. Reading stories of other writers seemed to ig A friend gave this to me as a gift, and it's the first "A Cup of Comfort" book that I've ever read.
Reading stories of other writers seemed to ignite my love for writing more, egging me to keep on reaching for my dream no matter what happens. There will be rejections, moments with no inspiration or simply days where you question yourself about the profession you chose, but in the end it all amounts to your love for writing and reading words. This is a very helpful and timeless book for me. Apr 10, Beth Cato rated it liked it Shelves: in , , anthology , nonfiction. I was fortunate enough to win a copy of this book on The Writer Mama Blog that was signed by Lisa Romeo, one of the contributors.
How can I be a writer and a wife, mother, grandmother, daughter, granddaughter, sister, aunt, in-law, friend, employee, businesswoman, housekeeper, gardener, dancer, hiker, singer, activist? I often wondered. Sometimes, it did not seem possible. Sometimes, it seemed I would have to choose: writing or a normal life. Sometimes, I felt like an alien in my own life…. Until I connected with other writers. Until I found my tribe. Of course, that is easier said than done. Writers get writers. And not many other people do.
So it is important, I believe, for us writers to share our experiences and emotions, to tell of our trials and our triumphs, and to speak our truths about the writing life. On the pages that follow, more than fifty writers share their personal stories about what it is to be, and what it means to be, a writer. I trust you will be too. Years ago, in the midst of dreaming of becoming a writer, seeing the shadow of my future writer-self outside my window, I entered a crisis.
There are many names in our culture for such experiences. Sometimes they come after a life change — a death, a divorce, a move. Sometimes they sneak up on us — we are driving merrily down our lane, and suddenly we see a stop sign from God. A vision of my life stretched out before me: standing year after year in a windowless classroom with desks bolted to the floor in neat rows.
I wanted to be a writer. I had dreamt of becoming a writer ever since childhood, and it was time, I decided, to make that dream come true. At that moment, a hummingbird whizzed by me in the backyard, brushed past my shoulder, then stopped in mid-flight right in front of me, and looked at me. She chirped. I obeyed the stop sign, slowly.
I did not run that day. I waited, responsibly, teaching dutifully until the end of the semester, and then I quit my job, and after the winter holidays, I left. My teacher at the workshop was Pat Mora, a Chicana poet and storyteller. She was kind and grandmotherly, but in a sexy, laughing kind of way. On our first weekend in Mexico City, she led a group of students through the night streets of a festival, telling us about her childhood memories of El Paso and the Mayan, Spanish, and Catholic traditions that live on throughout eleven of the United States that only as recently as were part of the Mexican nation.
I knew many of the facts of the history, but here it was, alive. On the first night in our mountaintop hotel in Central Mexico, we sat together on a chocolate-brown couch in a large room with high wooden-beamed ceilings, and she said to me, If you spent as much time and effort on your poems as you have on your academic work, you could be a success.
Poetry was about inspiration, I thought. Not work. It had more to do with mood and magic than research and revision, I thought. One afternoon near the end of the two-week workshop, I paid a local taxi driver to take me away. We drove south for hours, up and down and into the landscape. We were not far from Chiapas. I followed him, nervously. I was in the middle of nowhere.
Anything could happen. But then, I told myself, that was true anywhere. Like heaven. Something so good that everything is peace in your heart. We walked through the brown valley of a Mayan ruin, dry winter air caressing our faces. We were quiet. All of a sudden, we came upon the sound of a trickling stream, and there they were: dozens of hummingbirds with wings of turquoise, rose, and blue, the colors of the Mexican mountains at sunrise. And in that place is found peace in the heart: being true to yourself, listening to your muses and using your own talents and following your own path, no matter how dusty, until you come upon your own water, your own food to get you through the winter, until the coming of spring.
Then comes another season in the life of the writer. There is growth enough in the garden, but no one comes to admire your colors, all you have begun to create and become. This happened to me, a few years after the flight to Mexico. I had written many poems and essays, even had three books completed and had started submitting them for publication.
But month after month, rejection after rejection came. My writer friend, Greg, told me to think of publishing as a boomerang — just keep sending it away, and if it comes back, send it out again. The problem was that one summer so many boomerangs came back that, before I could catch them, they hit me in the head. So I took off, again. This time I piled my manuscripts into the trunk of my little Geo Metro and flew west across the continent upon its red wings. I did original, archival research in Austin that would eventually lead to the publication of one of the manuscripts I carried.
I followed the course of the Rio Grande, from its green bottom to its cactus mountain tips, visiting the homelands of some of my favorite Mexican American and Native American writers. I drove further west, and I walked and I learned about this land and its people and history, what cannot be found in most books, and what, I would later discover, would bring new depth to both my writing and teaching.
It was on my second day there that I met Elizabeth, a grand smiling woman writer from Colorado, another hummingbird on a journey. I was doing yoga poses in the water, and she asked me about them. I could tell from her eyes that she wanted to talk. I told her about my cross-country mission, my flight from publication rejection, and my attempt to be who I was trying to become.
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Me, too, she said. During the school year, I teach high school English, but every summer I come here to rest and re-gather, and then go home again. How do you do it? I asked her. She was twenty years my senior and had managed to hold together a marriage, a family, a home, a job, and the mind of a writer.
I come here, she answered. Later, dressed and dry in the parking lot as we said goodbye, I gave her a copy of one of my book manuscripts, with gratitude for the gift her story had given me, knowing that somehow I would make it — as a wife, mother, teacher, and writer. It was only a question of when. It has been almost a decade since then.
My stepdaughter will leave for college at the end of this summer, and my husband and I now have a lovely, six-year-old daughter too. I am still married. Still teaching. And I am, deep in my heart and on paper, a writer. I have learned, on my hummingbird journeys, that my dreams about writing needed much more than inspiration or luck or the hope of a happy end. I needed to discover how to balance hard work with the magic of language. How to push through each day with perseverance and discipline, and only occasionally give in to an outrageous urge or a whim.
How to pay attention to my family and provide a steady, if small, income that nourishes us all daily. For in the end, I am human, not hummingbird, and I needed to learn how to integrate writing into my everyday life, not just get glimpses of it on cross-country journeys and fancies of flight with their potential dangers to life and limb.
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