on the blog
It Starts With Love
Think about someone you love. Imagine them standing right in front of you. Now think about why you love them. Is it their empathy? Their integrity? Their curiosity about the world? Maybe it’s the way they’ve been there for you when you needed them. Maybe it’s the way they always seem to know the right question to ask. Maybe it’s their weird sense of humor, or that one little smile that’s been etched into your heart’s memory. The point is, you love this person. Which means you want to protect them from harm. It’s a human instinct as automatic as breathing. My wife Karen and I have three children—if I can get away with calling full-grown adults in their thirties “children.” They mean the world to us and we love them completely and unconditionally. (Even when we disagree. Even when things feel a little strained. It’s part of life.) But,...
Read MoreStumbling Forward
When I end up in conversation with aspiring authors, an unspoken implication is often woven into the questions they ask. In essence: “You must have followed some kind of plan. How did you come up with your plan?” Time after time, the news I’m forced to report back from the frontier is that—for me, at...
Read MoreKismet
So: Mom wrote children’s books; grief paid a visit (several, actually); and I did what came naturally—I began to write. The next visitor to show up at my door was kismet. The story I began to write was in a genre I had always shied away from before: a children’s book. With two of our...
Read MoreWrestling With an Ocean
“You know what I’d really like to get good at? Writing obituaries,” said no one I have ever known. It isn’t even the gloom associated with the task, the necessity of dwelling on a sad reality for a sustained period of time. It’s the weight of it, the sense of responsibility for summing up, in...
Read MoreStory Time
Across a far-ranging career as a writer, Sandol Stoddard wrote fiction and non-fiction, for adults and children, producing 26 published books and countless essays, articles and poems. In our house, though, she was always simply “Mom”: a dynamic presence overflowing with ideas and opinions, reassuringly predictable in some respects and thoroughly unpredictable in others. And...
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jason Warburg
The son of a writer and an architect, Jason Warburg was building worlds in his imagination before he learned to ride a bike.
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