Elizabeth Bartasius

We’ll likely live to see the day when books in paper form are no longer published. I don’t want books to die. Ever since I was a pre-teen reading Danielle St...

She has always been my buoy, a safe harbor to anchor. I know exactly where to find her: Reading the newspaper in the rust-colored, swivel chair, barefoot, we...

I haven’t been writing. A hurricane hit home; we went without power for over 100 days. Thanksgiving came; I ate the skin off a turkey and celebrated my 43rd ...

For the moment, I just wanted to acknowledge that we all face resistance. Usually the New Year is a time of great promise, but a week or a month or two in… B...

As writers we know why we write, but sometimes we don’t write. Those times of nonscribbling can also be valuable. Some of many reasons we might not be writi...

Hurricane recovery... ...Looks like: 1. Tall skinny branches with v-necks holding up fallen power lines. 2. Blue tarps on roofs. 3. Jagged tree trunks, broke...

Do you know why, when it happens, you are called to write? For fun, I took a personality test on FB. The wizards behind the test proudly told me: “You are a ...

A few weeks ago, we bunkered down with friends bringing hurricane supplies of wine, beer, chocolate, ten gallons of water, and our three animals to wait out ...

Since being away on summer holiday, I've felt a platonic shift such that, upon returning home, I could no longer step back into the previous routines or sche...

This is what it looks like when I’ve taken a break and I’m trying to get back into writing. I’m not sure what to write. Or how to write. Maybe I’m not a writ...

Guilt is precious. It can ride our ass and snap the whip just hard enough to entice production. I've felt guilt. I've produced what I should. And produced wh...

At a rate of two pages a night before my eyes droop, I might finish reading these by 2030. Nonetheless, game on! 1. Tinkers by Paul Harding As a Pulitzer pri...

I woke up to Resistance’s chokehold. My neck ached. My heart beat slower. My mind spiraled into an “all is lost” moment. I took a breath. And remembered. Tho...

Writing...I've always considered it a joy, just for me. Sure, I’ve used my mad skillzzz to develop concepts freelance, ghostwrite, edit and proof for others ...

When stuck-busy-overwhelmed-on deadline, or bumping up against a block, I’ve learned to let go of ‘meaningful, useful, and bravado.” Instead, I relax into wh...

Eyes glossy from researching publishers, fulfillment, distribution, ISBNs, and metadata, I didn't want to write this blog post. Really, I'd rather shut down ...

Twenty years and I’ve finally discovered only a very small part of a writer’s life is writing. What it takes to be a writer has become quite simple, at least...

Joy looks like... Connor, the dog, shredding a coconut. A hot pink bougainvillea tree wild and gorgeous, free of the landscapers clippers. Word count: 30,000...

I am Me. More powerful than daisies and Argentina. More graceful than champagne and the Eiffel Tower. More love than sun, rain and Saturn. More capable than ...

A few years ago, a man I barely knew, dressed in a jazz hat and Indian beads, looked me dead in the eye and said, “You are afraid.” “Your heart is in the rig...