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Deborah J. Brasket, Author

~ Writing from the Edge of the Wild

Deborah J. Brasket, Author

Category Archives: The Writing Process

Walking Each Other Home – Why We Write

January 22, 2018

I’ve reread my novel after being away from it for well over a year. I did so with some trepidation. …

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Touching & Being Touched, Why We Blog

October 2, 2017

  “The function of language is not to inform but to evoke . . . responses.”  So writes Jacques Lacan, …

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The Pieta & the Writer’s Palette, Redux

August 22, 2017

It’s been said that for writers the blank page is our canvas and words our paint. But I don’t think …

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Can You Paint a Poem?

April 26, 2017

It’s a question a blogger friend asked one day in response to my comment that I would like to try …

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My Art or My Novel. Which Would You Choose?

March 16, 2017

Someone asked me recently what I loved more, my painting or my writing? Or, she added, is that like trying …

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Poets on Poetry: Mark Doty, Mackerel & Metaphors

April 30, 2015

One of the things I love most is writing about writing, unraveling the creative process, how the mind at play …

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Good Prose and Good Science — Quibbling with the Masters

January 18, 2015

At first Steven Pinker was my new hero. Within the first few pages of reading his widely acclaimed “The Sense …

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The Light-Craving Stories of George Saunders

November 20, 2014

What is it that I love about the wildly weird, dark and dorky stories of George Saunders? Ever since reading …

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More on “The Writing Life” with Annie Dillard

August 28, 2014

One of the things I love about Annie Dillard’s book “The Writing Life” is how it addresses both the drudgery and …

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On Herds, Husbands & Riffing on Writing

June 30, 2014

Serendipity, it’s sometimes called. Those happy coincidences that lead to some unexpected pleasure or insight. Or synchronicity. Those meaningful encounters …

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  • The Art of Living, a Reminder
  • O Holy Night, What Stars Give Birth To
  • Pinch Me! Writers House Accepts My Novel

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Purpose of Blog

After sailing around the world in a small boat for six years, I came to appreciate how tiny and insignificant we humans appear in our natural and untamed surroundings, living always on the edge of the wild, into which we are embedded even while being that thing which sets us apart. Now living again on the edge of the wild in a home that borders a nature preserve, I am re-exploring what it means to be human in a more than human world.

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