Author: Sarah Spradlin

Song of the Storm

Marina windows glowing with moonlight and lightning, I’m standing on tired toes, peering into the sky that tastes like ocean, trembling with wonder as the sky smiles. Jagged white teeth stretch to touch cotton cheeks aglow with the cool light of midnight. Laughter rumbles out from the depths of a midnight ocean whose tide never turns toward the shoreline of treetops, shingle roofs, and horizons. My heart wanders into the waves, captured again in the unknown course of currents tugging at its strings. There’s danger in the night sky, but I can’t help the wonder that draws me farther...

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“What is it like—saying goodbye?” Her eyes misted as her mind tumbled backward, down spiral staircases and through doors—some which were locked, some open, a few dark, and yet others inviting.The winds of change were blowing behind her. The winds that pushed her forward—the winds that sometimes made her forget. “It came very quickly—faster than anyone could have convinced us it would,” she said, pressing her steepled fingers into the bridge of her nose. Her eyes closed slowly, and a smile spread across her face. “It was beautifully heart-wrenching in the best sort of way… like the last day...

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7 New Reasons to Love Microsoft Word

In a world where gaining and maintaining writerly motivation is about as hard as putting down a good book, we need all the help we can get, and these simple time-savers are sure to appeal to the tech-savvy soul and maximize your motivation—no matter how long that motivation lasts. Before you start celebrating with your characters, however, beware: these tidbits will minimize one of your secret guilty pleasures: formatting. For hours. Don’t deny it. Everyone knows that the first 24 hours you spend on your novel consist of font choosing, chapter headings, and paragraph formatting. Writer’s block? Must be...

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Hello, My Name Is

  Hello, my name is overwhelmed with sadness; I’m tired of feeling like  I’m worthless. I’m spinning, spinning, spinning tales of greatness, when inside I’m broken.   How can I– How can I– fix this  before it’s over.  But I can’t fix this heart beating in my chest that reminds me that I’m alive; and each breath I take is labored with  one thousand regrets and one thousand scars. I’m distant, and in their eyes,  I’m taller, wiser, greater than I’ll ever be. And in my heart, I’m on my knees, crying because I can never be who they need...

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What Baby-Sitting Can Teach You About Writing

Quick. What’s your first reaction when you hear that the “littlest” members of the family are coming to spend some time at your house? For some of us, it may not be excitement. It means no computer time and an indefinite number of little kids to watch for the duration of their stay. Synonymous with the end of the world? Maybe not, but it’s not going to be a walk in the park either. I mean, really. Authors, the predictable species that we are, are already self-conscious enough about our writing. Hide the screen at all times—even if it’s just...

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