Essay by Ellen Prentiss Campbell
I was nervous. Would she in some way feel that I had overstepped the bounds, appropriated her story?
I was nervous. Would she in some way feel that I had overstepped the bounds, appropriated her story?
I was the biographer of one woman, but I was also writing my own life.
Because our religion always marked us as oddities—the people who didn’t believe in doctors—my mother cringed at anything she thought was not socially normal.
Oh, yeah. I forgot. I’m not in a cozy bookstore. I’m not even in Barnes & Noble.
Our lives need to go beyond looking. Life with nature needs to be meaningful.
On Shakespeare’s birthday I received my first rejection: 'Perhaps your travels seem interesting to you, but to others...'
Money matters everywhere, but especially in New York.
Writing succeeded where the best professional help had failed.
I know the friendships I’ve made in the TW community will stay with me.
You'd think it would be easy to write a bad sentence—but that takes just as much work.