Most of the helpful comments I've received on my writing were from Wendy Dale, my writing mentor. Wendy is both an effective encourager and a constructive critic. She boosted my esteem as a writer like no one did to me before and taught me things I didn't learn from other writing mentors. A few years... Continue Reading →
It's been satisfying to stare into space. The slow tree leaves swaying with the slow wind outside my window tell me I've burned myself out this year again. I have become more efficient this year, though, and my 'work threshold' has increased ridiculously, but apparently, I haven't improved in the aspect of 'rest' yet. I... Continue Reading →
Addictionnoun: a kind of coping mechanism: a subconscious way of filling a space or hollow in one's life or heart: an unusually strong desire or fancy for something Have you ever been addicted to something? Ever since I have observed how bad my addiction to something can get, I make sure to be careful with... Continue Reading →
I reckon that the terms “intrapersonal intelligence” and “introspection” are germane to a discussion in memoir writing. When I penned my first memoir in 2017, I thought it was my initial first-hand encounter with the literary form. Wrong, I was. After teaching and studying about memoir, I discovered that I’ve been a memoirist all along,... Continue Reading →
The first time I taught Memoir Writing, I had my initial researches in hand which included the wealth of information from a Creative Writing textbook, Memoir Writing guides, actual memoirs, and Google. Still, that heap didn't suffice, for I had an inkling that I was solely looking at the tip of its iceberg. I dug... Continue Reading →
I can still remember quite vividly the first time I braved the blogging world. "It'll push you to make your work better," my sister, Ate Nikki, said. So blogging, yeah? For me, 'twas going to take some courage. I thought, people will be reading my writing pieces which, I know, aren't that good. Yet. But,... Continue Reading →
If you'd browse my stack of old, worn-out, messed-up-to-the-last-page journals, you'll see how plenty of checkboxes I had drawn there with the words "write and publish a book" beside them. Month after month, year after year, I would write on the last page of a journal notebook then get a new one. And each time,... Continue Reading →
Elaine Marie Factor 