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Read More >I had no idea I would ever write books. I grew up in rural Pennsylvania and had trouble reading as a child, but when I discovered writing, specifically storytelling, everything changed. The act of writing planted the seed of a life-long passion and awakened something deep inside me—the need to connect with others through words. I believe that writing is a way of sharing something that comes from us but is also greater than us. (And forever humbling). For me, storytelling has become a form of fellowship.
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Caroline Paul's new edition of Fighting Fire published by Skywriter Books. http://t.co/0NkNBBCd http://t.co/PoYINt2D http://t.co/jA7u8BMw
Skywriter
In 2008, when I finished Kingdom of Simplicity, I sought a different kind of publishing experience. I saw the need to help myself and other ... Read More >
Recent Blog Post
Imagine this…
I turned forty on Christmas Eve and as much as I’d like to regale my friends with tales of a blowout celebration, Jesus’ birth pretty much trumps my own each year — no matter what milestone I’ve hit. I know of only one other person (besides Nostradamus) who shares my birthday and we call each other first thing each December 24th just in case our other friends forget. She’s three years younger and won’t share crossing into the fabulous forties with me, but we did share a pregnancy (almost to the due date) and I feel I owe it to her and my younger friends to forge ahead into my forties with clarity, focus, ease and grace.
This has nothing to do with shoes, or makeovers, or finding new ways of defying gravity. What’s saggy is saggy. Deal with it and laugh. As my late grandmother always said, “Holly, you can’t turn a turd into a rose.” Thanks, Mrs. Egge. She loved Wild Turkey and died one week before her 92nd birthday. There’s longevity in both sides of my family so I’ve vowed to age with grace…and a little help from some mineral cosmetics, yes, but mostly my attitude. It’s all I have left that won’t sag, jiggle, darken with liver spots, break, rupture, split or explode. Maybe a little Wild Turkey will help keep my health, too. Who knows?
I found myself in the days and months leading up to Christmas Eve 2011 reflecting on the last ten years, and subsequently thinking a lot about every year that’s brought me to here. I didn’t bemoan this birthday. In fact, I was as excited about turning 40 as I was about turning 30. And I don’t really think about my age. I never did. Maybe I should. I still feel like I did in college. Sure, a few things have changed. I’ve got lines. A lot. Stretch marks from my baby, some battle scars, sun spots. My heart’s broken open since and a few of my bones have been rearranged, some aren’t even mine but a cadaver’s thanks to modern science that put me back together the summer of 1994. This is all on the surface, but on the inside, I feel like things are getting refined and I like that prospect about turning forty. I’m still working out several rough... Read More >