The muse that’s worth the wait, by Deb Katie

I used to say my muse was my little green notebook. But that’s not quite accurate. My notebooks are more like partners. I actually have a series of retired notebooks, the way old British aristocracy would have a series of beloved hunting dogs, generation after generation, who had served them well and faithfully over the years. First there was the blue one; then the green; now the white flowered; soon…

Tuesday, June 2, 2009
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Nowhere else I’d rather be, by Deb Katie

(This post is best viewed using Firefox, Safari, or IE 7+.) (I hope Kristina doesn’t mind that I’m going to borrow her “photo tour” angle!) I used to have the office upstairs for my writing and the sewing room downstairs for my creative work (well, you know what I mean), but after about two years, the husb caught on and demanded that the space be divided 1-1 rather than 2-0….

Tuesday, February 24, 2009
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A jack of all trades, by Deb Katie

Writing used to be my hobby. Then I started doing it for a living — not just with my book, but at my various day jobs over the years. You’d be amazed how spending a whole day finding words for someone else’s vision, while fun and rewarding (er… most of the time), can deprive you of the energy to pursue your own vision, especially in your precious free time. So…

Tuesday, January 27, 2009
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Signs of the Times

It started with Hanukkah. When she was three, my first daughter came home from pre-school toting a dreidel and singing a Christmas carol. My Irish Catholic/English husband shrugged and gave the top a whirl. A month and a half later, she came home, plopped a red lantern on the table, and chortled, “Gung Hay Fat Choy!” My husband raised his eyebrows. “What?” I cleared my throat. “She’s wishing us happy…

Thursday, November 20, 2008
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The writing life: Unscheduled by Deb Meredith

I’ve always envied those people who say that they treat their writing like a nine to five job. They sit down after breakfast to write, break briefly for lunch, and then write until dinnertime. I envy them their discipline, but I also strongly suspect they are lying. I mean, who can really do that? I certainly can’t, even during those times when I’ve had nothing else going on. I do…

Wednesday, November 12, 2008
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Word Compost by Deb Eileen

Do you recyle? Not bottles or cans, not cardboard or newspapers, magazines or glass. I’m talking about what writer’s throw away in volume- words. Yes, your rough drafts, the ugly drafts, the “who knows what I was going for there” draft. The stories that never got off the ground, the character details that were cut, or those those brilliant scenes that were sacraficed for pacing. What do you do with…

Friday, April 25, 2008
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How I Became a Writer by Deb Danielle Younge-Ullman

All week I’ve been wracking my brain for something clever and/or deep to say about stereotypes. The Oppressor (aka my husband, Michael) suggested I turn it around and talk about “types of stereos” and earlier today I seriously considered haiku or possibly writing in iambic pentameter. But finally, just as I’ve run out of time and must write something, I’ve realized I could tell you about how I came to…

Thursday, January 24, 2008
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A Christmas Pwning by Deb Jess

I’m thumbing through my mental filing cabinets, trying to remember the holiday traditions my family is supposed to have. But see, the problem is this: our traditions are kind of flickering, waffling a little, not quite sure if they want to stay or go. Get every family member a gift, or just pick names? Open gifts on Christmas Eve, or Christmas morning? Christmas brunch or Christmas dinner? Midnight mass or…

Friday, December 28, 2007
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Halloween & The Undercover Freak by Deb Danielle

To those of you who’ve been reading my posts since August, it should come as no surprise that as a kid, I had unique expectations of Halloween. Of course, Halloween was magical for me. Not just because of the candy, the spooky, ghosty stuff and the chance to run around outside in the dark, but because of the costumes. Halloween was a yearly opportunity not just to wear a costume,…

Thursday, November 1, 2007
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Deb Lisa’s Secret Life

I have a secret life. I feed my kids organic milk, whole wheat linguini, and sloppy joes made from soy. But I have a secret stash of Twinkies. I come by it naturally. When I was growing up, my mother force-fed my brother and me carab chip cookies (sort of like chocolate, but more like cardboard), granola, and ground turkey burgers (which do not, despite my mother’s protests, taste exactly…

Wednesday, October 3, 2007
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