Writing Mamas Salon

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Writing Mamas Salon

Dawn Yun is the mother of <a href="http://www.writingmamas.com" target="_blank" style="color:#c08434;"><b>The Writing Mamas Salon</b></a>. It all started when Dawn wrote an article about Book Passage in Corte Madera California, an iconoclastic, influential, and much-loved book store, for The San Francisco Chronicle. She approached the store’s owner, Elaine Petrocelli, a mother of four, about starting a writing class just for mothers. Elaine eagerly agreed. And so began a series of four-week classes for mothers to have a dedicated time and place to write and to share their writing with each other. <br><br> The popular classes soon morphed into The Writing Mamas Salon™. Some of the mothers have been published and others have not, but all share a love of the written word. And since joining the salon, many mothers are getting published. The word is spreading. Like a good book, Writing Mamas Salon chapters are starting around the country. Why not do something for YOU. If you’re a mother and want to write, find out if a Writing Mamas Salon exists in your area and if not, start your own Writing Mamas Salon. <br><br> For further information, visit <a href="http://www.writingmamas.com" target="_blank" style="color:#c08434;"><b>www.writingmamas.com</b></a>

Stories by Writing Mamas Salon

Planning for my family’s June vacation to France started months before the trip. One of my first considerations was what books I would bring....
“I’m drawing you, but Daddy’s not going to be in the picture.” An innocent enough statement made by my four-year-old...
It has been more than a week since my brother-in-law, David, suddenly passed away. I can’t stop thinking about him. I see him in the...
“Go meet a nice Swedish boy!” my host mother called out to me. It was my second week in Sweden. I was twenty-three, and enjoying my stay...
My four-year-old son has a new curiosity about the human anatomy. Boobs, breasts, ta-tas, hooters, or whatever you call them. He has endless...
Today I went to a reading. I happened to be in my daughter’s second grade class and watched as the teacher called on them one-by-one to read...
Here’s the dirty little secret they don’t tell you in the glossy parenting magazines. You miss your brain. You miss conversations where...
My son, Victor, loves to give nicknames and they usually stick. He is Fishy, his twin brother, Oliver, is “O-leach,” my husband is...
As the school year continues, I’m often reminded of the new place in the pecking order of parents I inhabit. I once was perceived as a good...
It came one afternoon, like so many times before. Innocent-looking-enough, this clothes catalog arrived with the rest of the mail. But today was not...
My office was once my sanctuary. It was pristine. Every paper in its place. I knew just where to reach to get exactly what I wanted. Now when I...
I am getting my first grader a cell phone. Before you throw your hands up and scream in horror, I am doing this because of the absolute, cold...
Christmas is coming. My son is two, so I’m not worried. Yet. What about when he’s four or five? We are not big on showering gifts...
When it comes to the holidays, I tend to suffer from a kind of temporary split personality disorder. There is the rational, sane part of me that...
For once I would like to know the ending to one of my six-year-old’s stories. She comes home from school with the most amazing anecdotes. They...

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