In our most recent Hub Talk, we asked “What’s the best comment you’ve ever received on a story?” We got some fantastic responses back from writers — comments that ran the gamut from funny to motivating to poignant. There was even one about a story inspiring a tattoo.
Here are a few highlights we thought you might enjoy. If you have a memorable comment you’d like to share, add it in the responses here!
I wrote a Medium piece on the lies we tell ourselves as writers — lies about what equipment or education we need, why we can’t write…
If you think about it, writing is sort of strange. It’s mostly done alone and yet the goal, for many of us, is connection. It’s that connection, the sense that something that came from somewhere inside us mapped to something inside someone else, that keeps us going. And makes all those writes and rewrites and can’t-writes just a bit more worth it.
We’d love to know what story comment or response touched you. What note has stayed with you? Made you want to keep going? Made you laugh or helped forge a new connection?
Share your favorite response here in the (you guessed it) responses.
To be a teacher is to sometimes find yourself on an emotional roller coaster you can’t quite remember queuing up for. One moment, you’re at the top, heartened by the excitement, the wide views, the suddenly expanded sense of the world. The next, you’re hurtling downward, fending off mutiny for daring to teach the difference between “their/they’re/there” in a college class. (The nerve of me.)
Using a mix of straightforward narrative, imagined conversations, inner monologues, and…
“What’s that?” my daughter asks me, pointing to an illustration in her book.
“A vampire,” I say.
“And what can vampires do to you?”
I pause for a moment, calculating the right level of information to share given that she’s four and we’re ten minutes out from bedtime.
“They can bite people with their sharp teeth.”
“Oh,” she says, her eyes squinting, satisfied and not with my answer.
The next day we’re out for a walk.
“Why do vampires like to drink blood, Mama?”
“What do you mean, kiddo? Did you hear that somewhere?”
“Yeah, we were talking about…
When I was six years old my grandmother took my cousin and me to Disneyland. I had been there before, but this time was different. This was a big kid trip. My cousin, seven years older than me, was not interested in “It’s a Small World” or “Dumbo” or “Peter Pan.” She had her own plan for the park: roller coasters.
Not long after making our way down Main Street, we said goodbye to my grandma, who preferred waiting to riding, and headed straight for Space Mountain. I had never been on a roller coaster before and I was terrified…