Stray cat sings back

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Stray cat sings back

Nine years later, there’s peace. There really is. People say Time heals and you fantasize about Wile E. Coyote anvils dropping from the sky. What’s-her-name and her however-many Stages of Grief. Denial, begging, anger, acceptance, a neat bow, something-something whatever. Screw you, what’s-your-name. My grief is not linear. But here’s the thing. From a long way up—I’m whispering now—it is, sort of. Grief is not linear. Time doesn’t heal. Not at all. Until it does.

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At the kitchen table: the future of glow

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At the kitchen table: the future of glow

For our last kitchen table discussion in this series, we want to talk about the future. It is probably the most important discussion of the lot.  One which will help us stoke the embers in our fire, in just the right way, for the benefit of Glow's readers, new and seasoned.  One which will help inform how we preserve the best of what Glow represents, while gently evolving our look, feel, content and the ways in which we are found by weary wanderers in the woods.

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You and us, at the kitchen table

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You and us, at the kitchen table

I have a writer-friend whose advice to other writers is always, "Do something else if you can. If you can't do anything else, write." So we write. Here we are, writing in public (if sometimes anonymously), hanging out all our laundry—dirty or clean, worn out or new. This week, we wanted to share with you about our experiences being regular contributors at Glow, and talk with you about the intersections of the public and the private—where we meet you, readers.

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