Writing & Faith
My memories of loved ones are always intertwined with food.
Squash blossoms are best cooked the day they are picked, so they force you to live in the moment.
Nutri-prudes want their food revoltingly bland. No fat. No taste.
Spanish and music became ingrained in me, but English was my mother tongue.
I’m not ready yet. Really, God, all those times I said I wish I was dead? I didn’t mean it.
→ Adoption→ Bookstores→ Children's Lit→ Distraction→ Diversity→ Family Stories→ Food→ Grief→ Illness→ Money→ Music→ Nature→ Sex→ Travel→ Writerly Sins
Talking Writing is an independent, 501(c)(3) nonprofit publication. No interest group has paid TW to mention the reviewed items here. The opinions expressed by TW writers are their own.
TW reserves the right to delete comments that are personal attacks or could be construed as libel.
TW does not guarantee the accuracy of outside links.
Fair-use guidelines apply for the use of book and journal covers, album covers, website screen images, and other promotional material in TW.
Donate to TW