Tag: Writers
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What We Nurture in Art and Life Makes All the Difference
“I think of myself as a sort of farmer; I tend the rich soil of troubled children and nurture them as they grow, “ a social worker once said to me when I told her about my dreams of being a writer/farmer. At the time I had no idea that I would write novels about…
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By the Shores of Solon Pond (7)
Waldo’s embarrassment at Christmas (novel excerpt) Although Waldo tried to ignore it, he dreaded the embarrassment this Christmas of not having joined Amy and Lucian at school after he’d talked so much about it. He imagined he might explain to them how sick Dan was and how he had heroically stepped in to chop wood…
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By the Shores of Solon Pond (6)
“He who tills his own land has food in plenty, but he who follows idle pursuits is a fool.” Proverbs 12:11 Despite his whole-hearted belief in vegetarianism, Waldo’s father possessed not even the slightest hint of a green thumb. Each spring Joel Potter sent his sons to smooth the fields of stones. Piles stood like…
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By the Shores of Solon Pond (5)
Negotiating pay is tricky business for young farmer boy Waldo. His brother’s coughing woke him early. Coffee bubbled below and his father’s slightly burnt corn cakes gave off a sweet, acrid smell. The water in the washbasin was slightly reddened by a clot of his brother’s blood and a wave of yesterday’s worries flooded him…
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By the Shores of Solon Pond (4)
Waldo worries his uncle will find fault with him on the first day of work. Lucian bounded over the hill with his pair of overly enthusiastic yoked calves. One day, he would sell them and set aside the money for his own savings. Waldo envied him a moment until Lucian smiled and waved. “Waldo’s come,…
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By the Shores of Solon Pond
A sneak peek at the first chapter of my next novel about a good-natured farmer boy who escapes to fight in the Civil War after a dreadful accident at home. Take it in! The crickets insisted. Everything bursting with life! The gold and silver riches of the sun setting on this fine autumnal afternoon! Yes,…
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A Civil War Envelope
First time I wore a corset I became a woman. Before that I was a person not at home for trying to be too many different things to too many people. I had felt responsible for the world’s destruction since I was five and put before the TV to watch crying Indians and baby seals…
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Stop Crying
Do you cry too much? My father used to reward me for staying in and being safe. As a police officer he coolly handled blood, insanity and anger, but he could not handle threats to his children. He could not handle the idea of them making mistakes or being shamed. His heart was in the…
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Flowers in the Window
Bring in those flowers and put them on the windowsill where you wash the dishes. You pass them every day, but you’re so busy and there will be new blooms tomorrow. My mother once said she felt sorry for flowers picked and put in a vase and didn’t need them. She said this because she…
Author Adrienne Morris 