The time of reflection
The crumbs on the floor
Monday, May 5, 2014
The Mother as She Writes
When people ask me what I write about, I brush them off with a self-deprecating, “Just stories about mothers.” I imagine that, to other people, motherhood lacks the narrative weight of war and social upheaval, the excitement of werewolves and zombies, the sensuality of erotica and romance. On a deeper level I am embarrassed to say I write about motherhood because I think people won’t take me seriously, as a person and as a writer, and I feel uneasy admitting the extent to which my own identity is wrapped up in motherhood. Yet, without my children, I would not be a writer at all.
Please check out more of my Literary Reflections essay, "The Mother As She Writes" at: Literary Mama.