Hannah R. Goodman

Writer's Life

The Angst/Mental Health of Being a Writer

Maddie, Me, and Mental Melt Downs Biggest Failure if my Greatest Success
On closing doors and failed dreams
On food, eating, and publishing
The Artist's Illness  We Need To Talk
Faith and Writing
Writing Lessons
More rants on not getting book deal–yet
I can't make you love me
I am hopeful
Surrender
Pain-chronic
Another Rejection
Fear of failing
Fear of failing, part 2
Fear of failure conclusion
R-e-j-e-c-t-i-o-n
The State of My Writing
NaNoWriMo

Being a Mom and Writer

Gemini Writer Mom
Mommy-hood & Writing
More observations from motherhood
Denial, truth, writing, and listening to my daughter
Writing Through Block
Unedited Love Poem To My Daughters
First I Cleaned


Posts about my time at Pine Manor College's MFA Program, Solstice

Winter 2009 Residency First Semester
Summer 2009 Residency Second Semester
Winter 2010 Residency Third Semester
Summer 2010 Residency Fourth Semester
Winter 2011 Residency (Graduation) Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Below are some entries that I wrote during the semesters:


Task of revising with a mentor
Letting go
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger
I can see clearly now rain is gone sort of
Write what you know

Finally, my stint as a Graduate Assistant, July 2011
Living The Dream Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
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My Books

  • Till It Stops Beating
  • The Maddie Chronicles: Books 1-2

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The Reluctant Romance Writer

How did I become a (reluctant) romance writer? This is the question I've been asking myself since I signed a contract with The Wild Rose...

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Popular Posts

  • I didn't mean it like that
    --> Someone called me a “Jew bag” recently. It was not in the context of two people, of the same tribe, ribbing one another in t...
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  • Living The Dream, Part 1
    It’s  been 7 days, 3 hours, and 33 minutes since I drove away from Pine Manor College , leaving behind possibly the 11 best days of...
  • Boys, Bullying, Boomers, & Body Image
      From a very early age, attention from boys was critical to my survival. It was a primitive desire tethered to my self-worth.  In my family...

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