Author Archives: Lindsey Crittenden

Sit for a While

I came home from my writing group feeling jazzed.  After struggling with a story revision, I’d decided to show the group twenty-five pages of new nonfiction. They loved it and told me, “This is what you should be writing.” Questions, … Continue reading

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Lucky Thirteen?

I just came home from an eight-grade graduation, that of the oldest daughter of one of my best friends.  Caroline is a poised thirteen-year-old, funny and wry and down-to-earth, studious and good-humored.  She presents light years away from how I … Continue reading

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Sounds of Silence

A little over a year ago, I picked up A Book of Silence.  The title intrigued me, as did the premise: writer Sara Maitland traveled into silence of the most extreme kind.  She leased a remote cottage on the isle … Continue reading

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Our Books, Our Selves?

A few years ago, after giving a reading, I invited questions. My friend Bonnie raised her hand. “You’re so private,” she said. “But you write so personally! You’re so open in your book!” She smiled, her voice affectionate, and yet … Continue reading

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My good friend Jane

We all have friends like her.  You know the ones.  Months, years go by, and when you see them again, it’s as if no time has passed.  Kim, whom I met thirteen years ago at a writers’ colony.  Sarah, with … Continue reading

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