Posts by Lynn Slaughter
Can’t Not Look
Eager to get to the university on one of my teaching days, I left the house early—only to find myself sitting in stalled traffic on the interstate for 45 minutes. Sirens screamed, and ambulances roared by.
Read MoreConfessions from the Teaching Front
I sometimes think I suffer from the opposite of attachment disorder.
Read MoreFeeling Sad
Yesterday morning, my older son’s stepmother and my ex-husband’s beloved wife, died. Last week in “Still Family,” I wrote
Read MoreStill Family
I was at my grandson’s seventh grade football game when the call came. Amidst the noisy fans, my son’s voice sounded unexpectedly sober and lower than usual. “Wanted to let you know
Read MoreWhy Do You Write Such Dark Stuff?
It’s not that my YA characters aren’t sometimes funny or snarky. But I have to admit that my books, like those of many contemporary YA novelists, tend toward the dark side. It isn’t only the murders
Read MoreCollege and Class
It’s three weeks into the semester at the mostly commuter university where I teach part-time. I see one of my most enthusiastic students struggling to keep his eyes open. Finally, he lays his head down on his desk. “You okay, Sam?”
Read MoreSo What Do You Do All Day?
Richard Johnson, the lovely man who helps me with my website, suggested that many folks are curious about writers and their work habits. I confess
Read MoreSometimes It’s Not What You Do, But Who You’re Doing It With
In her book, Do What You Love, The Money Will Follow, Marsha Sinetar argues that you will probably be happiest and do best in your career if you follow your passions. I couldn’t agree more. But there’s another major variable in there. Following your bliss needs to be with the right colleagues and bosses, or…
Read MoreA Review of Morgan Matson’s Second Chance Summer
When I really want to depress myself, I think about the stupid and unkind things I did as a teenager—like the time
Read MoreThe Writing Life: A Roller-Coaster Ride
Years ago, when I was still dancing, I began free-lancing for newspapers and magazines. One day, I ran into an acquaintance from college. “Saw your Sunday feature,” she said. “Congratulations.” “Gee, thanks.” “I wrote a story once,” she said, “but
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