If memory serves, I have never written a holiday poem. I associate lightheartedness with holiday poems; if you know my work, you know I am not a lighthearted poet. And for reasons I won’t get into, holidays haven’t inspired me. But this year, prompted by an upcoming Christmas party with my writing group, I challenged myself […]
It’s hibernation season, yet it feels like a bulk of my work is in the process of gestation: a poetry collection in its final stages, 10,000 words toward a new project, fine-tuning my copy-editing skills for my almost-finished essays. Not to mention, I was given three large binders of genealogy on my father’s side. I now hold more knowledge of my ancestors than I do my own father. I don’t have to read through the typed pages, thinned and brown with age, to know this new-to-me-material needs some serious incubation time.
The Multifaceted House: A Writer’s Exploration of Home
February 8, 2020 | 10:00 – 11:00 a.m.
Burlington Writers Club
213 S. Main St.
Graham, NC 27253
BornWilder is not simply the name of a website. It was chosen in homage to my struggle in establishing identity during my late twenties. Woman, (single) mother, and writer. Often times the most significant decisions we make are ones that go unnoticed by others. Read the story here.
Recent EventsThank you Maine, for a real good time!
Reading at Quiet City Books
Claire Guyton, Cheryl Wilder, Suzanne Farrell Smith, Sarah Twombly (not pictured: Bruce Robert
Coffin, Lisa Mayer, Nancy L. Brown, Annaliese Jakimides)
Reading & Author Talk
Claire Guyton, Cheryl Wilder, Suzanne Farrell Smith
[When I started this blog back in 2014, I wrote about little wins. After a few years of practice and perspective, it makes sense to revisit the subject .] The 2008 recession hit my family hard. We were living in Wilmington, North Carolina, a coastal tourist city. My husband-to-be and I were planning a wedding. […]
Years ago, when I trained in kung fu, I didn’t have the words to accurately explain the experience. If you saw my face during class, I didn’t look like I was having an ounce of fun. And in the moment, I often wasn’t; I was exhausted and in pain. But by the end (and especially […]