Jennifer Swan's Blog (8)

There are many spiritual elements to writing the book In Wake of a Following, and with them, comes fear. I worry that stirring up memories from the 1950s Virgin Mary sightings will release a measure of bad karma. My investigation is a lot like descending into a dank, unlit basement. Deep down, I’m troubled. With each bad thing that happens to my loved ones – my sister’s cancer, financial stress, a recent car crash – I wonder. Is my writing obsession a catalyst of…

When a person stumbles upon a deeply rooted secret, it’s nearly impossible to keep quiet. And yet, that is exactly what my family did for decades. None of us had the gumption to ask dad about the bizarre happenings in Wisconsin. We each furtively hoped he’d one day grant us an exclusive tell-all about the time grandfather abandoned the family to become co-leader of a controversial, anti-communist religious movement.…

Share your family stories before it is too late. That’s my motto in a nutshell. I believe everyone has a story to tell. It’s just a matter of digging deep to find those memories. Of course, proof is in the puddin’ - alright, no more tacky clichés - I'm about to issue you a challenge:

• Grab a pen and paper.
• Number your paper from 1 – 13.…

"Let other pens dwell on guilt and misery." - Jane Austen

A heavy fog infiltrated my creative mindset ten days ago. I became discouraged and frustrated. But I was not alone, others felt it too. On Saturday, I followed a hash tag (#writers) on Twitter and found a steady stream of negativity:

• 20 warning signs your content…

Randomness can be defined as events that happen outside predictability, prior knowledge and beliefs. I’ll start with an example. What has Paris Hilton done for the fine arts? The answer: NOTHING. And yet, she became the next big thing.



Now let’s take this concept to the world of publishing with the idea that a writer’s manuscript, deep within the bowels of the slush pile, is discovered at random – regardless of whether you are Hemingway resurrected or just another…

Do you want to come along? I am on my way to impress the great OZ with a brilliantly written query letter (version # 53, to be exact). I’ve been here before. In fact, it was just last week that I marched to the emerald city only to discover the doors strong-armed by guards holding WEAPONS OF MASS REJECTION.

I must better prepare this time. I am fearful, but I double back, lick my wounds, and attempt to gain as much feedback as possible before entering the…

I rode in the backseat of our 1979 Pontiac Bonneville. The scarlet plush interior cushioned my cheek while the top of my head rested against the rigid window pane. There was a faint smell of peppermint from the hard candy my dad tucked in the pocket of his cheek – melting slowly as he drove the rural highway. On occasion, he’d slip me a piece of…