Stephanie Barrows
11K posts
@D2Rcoaching
Collaborative non-fiction author of "Phoenix Rising" & "Unmapped: Solo Female Travelers" Currently in the querying trenches for debut magical romantasy novel
To all the writers - it occurred to me today how rarely writers get told they’re doing a great job (and no, I’m fine, this isn’t for me.) But it can be a seriously lonely job, lots of time inside your head, too much time staring at a screen, deliberately listening to voices that aren’t real. So tag a writer today and tell them they’re great, and that they’re doing something good. Tell them to keep writing. Tell them those books mean something to you. Because writers do need it, not often, but every now and then. You’d be amazed how rarely we hear it. Thanks lovely readers x
Where are all the 50+women who love life, a glass of wine, Italian holidays, and escapism in a magical world where anything is possible when we put our minds to it? I'm writing magical romantasy for you. If this sounds right up your strada, please like/follow. #WomensFiction
I might be the minority here, but I don't need the first sentence to WOW me. This instant gratification culture is toxic. What happened to easing into a good story?
Writing is hard. Rewriting is harder. Who agrees?
When life gives us lemons, we’re told to make lemonade. But what if the real question isn’t what you make - but who you make it with? Let’s talk about what happens when women stop fixing themselves in isolation - and start straightening each other’s crooked crowns... #iwd2026
My teenage son, who is autistic and non-verbal, made this for me in ceramics class. He asked me to show all of you. I'm sitting here staring at this little clay duck, and I can't stop crying. Not the sad kind. The kind that comes when you realize you've been holding your breath for years and finally remembered how to exhale. Marcus doesn't talk. He's 16 now, and people still look at him like he's broken. Like he's less. Teachers used to tell me he'd never "connect." Never create anything meaningful. Never understand what it means to give someone a gift from the heart. But last Tuesday, he came home from ceramics class clutching this thing in both hands like it was made of glass. His teacher said he worked on it for three weeks. Wouldn't let anyone touch it. Kept smoothing the clay, fixing the beak, painting it over and over until it looked exactly how he wanted. And then he handed it to me. Pointed at me. Pointed at the duck. And smiled. He wanted me to have it. He wanted me to show you. I've been selling some of my pottery in my shop lately, just small bowls and planters to help with bills, and Marcus watches me pack orders sometimes. He sees me wrap things carefully, write little notes to buyers. Maybe that's where he got the idea. That making something with your hands and giving it to someone matters. That it says what words can't. A woman from my shop actually messaged me last week asking if I knew anyone who did adaptive ceramics. Her son has similar challenges. I told her about Marcus's class, and now she's looking into it for her boy too. It's funny how things connect like that. This duck isn't perfect. The beak's a little crooked. One wing is thicker than the other. But Marcus made it. For me. Because he loves me. And he found a way to say it without a single word. So yeah, I'm showing all of you. Because he asked me to. And because every kid, no matter how they communicate, has something to say. You just have to be willing to listen differently. - ikhlas
