Novelist and poet Barbara Quick is best known as author of the 2007 international favorite Vivaldi’s Virgins, still in print, translated into 13 languages, made into an audiobook, and currently in development as a mini-series by Lotus Pictures. Winner of the Discover: Great New Writers prize for her first novel, Northern Edge, Barbara was awarded the 2020 Blue Light Press Poetry Prize for her debut chapbook, TheLight on Sifnos. Barbara’s fourth novel, What Disappears—over a decade in the making—was launched by Regal House on May 17th. Five of Barbara’s poems were recorded by Garrison Keillor and featured on The Writer’s Almanac last year. She has been a frequent guest—most recently on May 2nd, on Grace Cavalieri’s archived program from the Library of Congress, “The Poet and the Poem,” which has featured both her poetry and her novels. One of her poems was published as a full-page spread in the May 2022 issue of Scientific American. Her 2010 novel from HarperTeen, A Golden Web—about the 14th century teenage anatomist Alessandra Giliani—continues to intrigue and attract historical fiction fans. A trained dancer and avid organic gardener, Barbara is based with her husband, violist and vigneron Wayne Roden, on a small farm and vineyard in Sonoma County. More at BarbaraQuick.com
When I arrived at the gym yesterday, I parked the car next to the Big 5 Sporting Goods store’s huge garbage containers, located in my gym’s parking area. I felt embarrassed for the man I saw lurking behind the bins. He wore a baseball cap and tried to appear invisible as he rummaged through the trash. The image of him prowling there stayed with me, and I couldn’t help but think of it as a metaphor for writers. 
“Logic will get you from point A to point B, but imagination will take you everywhere” – Albert Einstein.
I’ve been reviewing the notes I’ve kept for all my four published novels, going back to the first one 
I recently took a walk with a friend who writes but hasn’t committed herself fully to being a writer. There is a difference! Someone who writes doesn’t necessarily need to take on all the responsibilities that being a writer requires. For a writer, these tasks include publishing and marketing her work. When I told my friend about all the things I’m doing [finding Advanced Review Copy (ARC) reviewers; seeking interviews; setting up readings—and so much more], as I prepare for the release of a new book (Dreaming Myself into Old Age: One Woman’s Search for Meaning
Marlene Cheng is a Maincrest Media and a Book Excellence award-winning author of women’s fiction. Her books are about the relationships that define women’s lives—romance, friendship, family. Marlene is a keen observer of how people think and feel, and she writes lyrical, uplifting, and emotionally rich stories.
I’m thinking today of timing—how important it is to success as a writer/artist. Timing and perseverance: the two go together. I’m also noticing the seasonal aspect of creativity, how cyclic it is. That, too, is hard to grasp. I want it all the time. I’m afraid if it isn’t there, it won’t return. 
Writing a novel is an exercise in trust, sitting down each day at the computer and seeing where the words lead me, believing that if I create an interesting character and circumstances, that’s enough. I constantly must let go of my expectations to impress or produce an important work. Otherwise, I’ll be giving weight to the negative old man from my recent dream who wanted the women to wear makeup, unable to see or appreciate their natural beauty. I must remember primary processes and get beneath all the shoulds to where something fresh and original lives. 
From the window seat in our master bedroom, looking through the French doors into our study, I can see the white bookcases lining one wall. They remind me of honeycombs we kept on the farm, books now the honey that my bees/mind goes after. Then an old issue of Border Crossings captured my attention where I read an interview with Canadian artist Betty Goodwin. 
Dear Fellow Readers,
An article about Venice in Border Crossings has helped me to better understand why that city moves me so much. It describes St. Mark’s church: “‘You are going to be shocked when you go inside,’ the guide said solemnly. It is very oriental.’ Pause. ‘You see, the mosaics were made by Greeks. You’re going to see Greek words on the mosaics. A surprise in a Christian Church'” (Vol. 14:4, 9). 
and lit’ for women over 40. 
Gary Eldon Peter is the author of two works of fiction: Oranges, a linked short story collection published by New Rivers Press, and the recently released novel 
I’ve been reviewing the journals I’ve kept over the years. At the time I wrote this one, back in 1979, I was still ambivalent about my calling as a writer. So I was eager to hear what published authors had to say. In this case, I was fascinated with what I took away from a talk I attended by Robertson Davies, a Canadian writer. 
When my reading group selected Rachel Cusk’s novel Transit as our next book, I recalled reading a review by Elaine Blair of Cusk’s novel Outline in the New Yorker. Blair claims “Cusk has written admiringly about Karl Ove Knausgaard, and her proposed cure for the trouble with fiction sounds like a gloss of his. ‘Autobiography is increasingly the only form in all the arts,’ she told the Guardian.” Blair goes on to say that some writers are hewing closer to the author’s subjective experiences, of effacing the difference between fiction and their own personal lives. 
