We craft and tell stories because we’ve stood on the uncertain edge between the waking world and our imagination, between enchantment and fear. And we remember other stories that help us build our own stories, scraps of lumber and fragments of narrative we gather together to make stories for ourselves.

Praise for Sister Fox

It’s raining, and we’re getting wet. So we’re not keeping the window open for very much longer. The pre-order window for Sister Fox’s Field Guide to the Writing Life is closing on Halloween. That’s tomorrow, in fact. If you’ve not secured your copy yet, then hurry over here and secure it. If you’re not sure you need a copy, then you might want to consider these words from some lucky critics who have already got to read it:

Lesléa Newman, the author of October Mourning: A Song for Matthew Shepard and other things, declares:

What a marvelous book this is! Jane Yolen has given the reader two for the price of one: a wonderfully wise and witty poetry collection, and a practical guide to the writing life. She reveals poetry’s secret ingredient (astonishment), pays tribute to her old teacher Stanley Kunitz “up in poet’s heaven,” and reminds us that “art is our reply to weariness.” I came away from Sister Fox’s Field Guide to the Writing Life newly inspired to make a date with my muse and a commitment to my writing practice. I thank Jane Yolen and Sister Fox for setting me back on “the writer’s road” with the tools I need to stay the course.

And the one-and-only Crescent Dragonwagon writes:

“All I have is words, “ laments Jane Yolen, in mock-envy of visual artists and their materials. But that, as she proves in line after line of Sister Fox’s Field Guide to the Writing Life, is ample, generous. These 50 poems illuminate the  shadow-path of writing, and will be loved by everyone who treads its contradictory  turnings.  On one hand, she warns us, “Do not try this if you are afraid of failing,” On the other, she muses,  “Do not think yourself brave | to write these words,” noting that when “Ravens come to to pluck out characters’ eyes” it is only “a pretend of wounds.” But blood flows out of  Yolen’s own “heart of ink.” Because of this,  in these poems, “Truth stays on, under its own banner.”

Here’s the link again, to save you the bother of scrolling up. Remember, we’re tired of all this rain everywhere, so we’re closing the window as soon as Halloween ends. Promise!

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