by Cynthia Newberry Martin | Jul 30, 2019 | acknowledgments, mfa, Writing by Writers |
When I started writing in January of 1997, I had no idea what I was doing. It would be a number of stories and three novels later before I started writing Tidal Flats in January of 2013. So there’s the story of all the people who helped make Tidal Flats a real...
by Cynthia Newberry Martin | Sep 25, 2017 | about the current writer, essays, mfa, novels |
I have been looking into schedules. Even when we read physics, we inquire of each least particle, What then shall I do this morning? How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing. A schedule...
by Cynthia Newberry Martin | Apr 24, 2017 | about the current writer, essays, mfa |
I have been looking into schedules. Even when we read physics, we inquire of each least particle, What then shall I do this morning? How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing. A schedule...
by Cynthia Newberry Martin | Mar 27, 2017 | 60 to 60, Columbus GA, continuous life, life, marriage, memory, mfa, Pam Houston, provincetown, time, truth |
2012: After I give my lecture and reading, I start making the changes to my first novel that my agent (late addition to yesterday’s post) has requested, Tori Amos’ Silent All These Years and Regina Spector’s Us on repeat. Cal comes to Vermont...
by Cynthia Newberry Martin | Mar 26, 2017 | 60 to 60, Columbus GA, continuous life, life, marriage, memory, mfa, Pam Houston, reading, time, truth |
2011: In January, I finish up winter residency and fall under the spell of Jennifer Egan’s A Visit from the Goon Squad. February is AWP in Washington, DC, where I spot Josh Ritter in the bar and actually talk to him. In March, Contrary reviews are due to me, I...
by Cynthia Newberry Martin | Mar 25, 2017 | 60 to 60, Columbus GA, continuous life, Dani Shapiro, life, marriage, memory, mfa, my writing, Pam Houston |
2010: The new year begins in the deep snow of Vermont. I stay in the dorm, wear my first pair of snow boots, and vow not to waste any more years writing novels that don’t sell. I will go shorter. And I start something new that has hold of me rather than the...
