Anna Quindlen

“My mother was a drunk” is one of the harshest, saddest sentences in any language. ~Anna Quindlen, Lots of Candles, Plenty
On memoir (both authors have produced well-received memoirs) v fiction: "In memoirs there is stuff you can't talk about," Corrigan
I've got good news and bad news. It's about creativity. Well, mine anyway. After many years of alternately experiencing both droughts and monsoons of creative vision, I have miraculously discovered from where to harvest my most creative self.
A memoir is part of a life, not a whole life. But what if you're halfway there when you realize you're looking at the wrong part? What if the 70s were not your best decade? What then?
I do not think anyone should feel ashamed for not feeling the way all the screens tell us we should feel. If you are sad while we are farthest away from the sun, while everyone else seems to be having a holly jolly Christmas, you are not flawed.
Anna Quindlen has been a huge influence on my life. Her "Life in the 30s" column in The New York Times was my bible when my kids were little and I've read every one of her books, columns and essays.
In modern life, reinvention had better resonate with you, because the data now shows that many of us will have four to five
While we might not have the power to turn America into Europe and declare August vacances season, we can take small steps to stop the busyness in our own lives and take real moments of solitude -- a "vacances de la solitude," if you will.
I was looking for a challenge during my second act and now I've found a big one. This goal may take me several years to achieve, but I'm going to accomplish it.
To qualify as a "great summer read," I want a book that offers sympathetic characters, depth of emotion, and a forward narrative momentum that keeps me sitting on the porch long after the fireflies have gone to bed.
Anna, in my books, is aging gracefully and has not quite reached the non-exclusive membership club for the elderly.
Motherhood. It's something I think about often, tracing my fingers around its fuzzy edges, trying to make sense of it with with words, trying to get it right. But I fail and fail again.
We were invited to a small dinner party -- a birthday celebration a friend of ours decided to throw for himself. Actually, it was a friend of my husband's. I knew no one. Yet I relished the chance to meet new and interesting people. I also looked forward to the splendid meal Zagat's promised we would enjoy. In my usual pre-party jitters, I worried about what to wear.
Last weekend marked His Holiness The Dalai Lama's 78th birthday and also "National Compassion Day." While it is nice to honor such an important sentiment such as compassion, I think compassion, or having empathy for others, should be honored every day.
I realized that I'd learned a lot from my yoga practice, from living with a chronic illness and from being a blogger. This is what I know is true for me, and perhaps it is for you, too.
Katie falls asleep to the sound of my laughter, knowing she's 100 percent responsible. It's been such a privilege, watching her grow up. She puts on a good show. But me? I'm a good audience. And that's what makes me a good mom.
We graduated from college with a diploma and a dream but not much certainty as to what path our lives would take or even who we'd become along the way. Most of us leapt before we looked and landed okay. So, why the dread over what I'll call "commencement 2.0"?
Here's a short list of successful women who failed famously -- and still, one way or the other, ended up on top.
When the number forty appears in the Bible, the reader knows a change is about to take place. In Scripture, the number forty marks a moment of transition, transformation and transcendence.