Literary Mama writing about the many faces of motherhood

Here at Literary Mama, we pride ourselves on providing a home for the work of new and emerging writers. Many on our staff, myself included, had our first publication in these pages, and it fills our hearts with joy when …

But over the last year or so, no matter how engaging the book, I could never get through more than two or three pages before he’d decide that was enough.

Andrea J. Buchanan’s 2018 memoir, The Beginning of Everything, explores Buchanan’s battle with an incapacitating cerebrospinal fluid leak. It tells of the painful period where she searched for answers in the face of neurological damage, while also redefining her life as she and her husband divorced and continued to raise their children.

The second time I wanted to die also involved my children. It was not the pain of deliverance, though, not the surrender of acceptance. It was the powerlessness all parents are confronted with at one time or another. The guilt of a split-second of inattention.


The second time I wanted to die also involved my children. It was not the pain of deliverance, though, not the surrender of acceptance. It was the powerlessness all parents are confronted with at one time or another. The guilt of a split-second of inattention.


Two weeks ago, at four months pregnant, I lost the baby: no heartbeat anymore, my little girl, gone.


I resign myself, with a sigh, to another day at home. Sprawled at my feet, two boys puck and bat each other like baby goats.

Tom died suddenly last Tuesday, exactly one week before Emma’s 50th birthday.


The first man lands on the moon. You watch the astronaut bop and glide on the lunar crust, and you think, surely, isn't this a good time for baby to be born?


I tried to read about the encapsulation process but stopped when I saw the words "placenta jerky," not wanting to see my bloody baby house every time I snapped into a Slim Jim.

Let's talk inner demons, unhappy marriages, and maternal mental health. Halloween might be over, but the haunting continues.


I reminded him every night that I didn't mind if he would prefer to finish the book himself.


Somehow in that little ranch house beneath the towering pines, we learned how to live with illness together.


Halloween has come and gone, but at Literary Mama we're still hovering in the realm of spooks, spies, and even real-life criminals with this month's reading recommendations.

What speck, what sun, what cluster became / what fig, what plum nestled in my trunk


They hadn't seen me the day before: / free-climbing ballerina out of the music box


The smallness of / this long day, / minutes parceled out / by tweezer.


Her insistent tap tap tap on my arm /is a gentle yet unwelcome alarm, /yanking me from Morpheus' embrace /and the blessed anaesthesia of sleep


And then you came and stuck, /expanding me like a swollen milkweed pod, / exiting me in a dark wave / on that winter's first night of snow.


You are water spraying from a hose / and I am the drenched gardener fumbling for the spigot.

Former Literary Mama Columnist Nicole Stellon O'Donnell explores the life of a teacher in her latest collection of poems.


I have been reading, like so many other people, that fiction readers are more empathetic people. Of course they are. They put themselves in other people's lives all the time.


Popeye-style, I am what I am! There are so many ways to be a writer, and I no longer feel I have to try to be someone I'm not in my practice.


Andrea J. Buchanan's 2018 memoir, The Beginning of Everything, explores Buchanan's battle with an incapacitating cerebrospinal fluid leak.

In her latest collection, You Are No Longer in Trouble, O' Donnell uses prose poems and flash essays to paint a picture of a teacher's life, giving the reader a more complete vision of a teacher as a whole person.


Welsch captures what we perhaps most fear—loneliness, rejection, the ridicule of others—as well as what we perhaps most desire—identification with and a connection to others.