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Reading Books and Writing Words

WHAT DOES A WRITER DO?

WHAT IS A WRITER? WHAT DOES A WRITER DO?

TELL STORIES

INVENT CHARACTERS

                                          “This is Polly. She’s from Romania and she just moved here today.”

                  Polly

Emmie’s best friend

Emmie O’Brien

Teen girl  Red hair Green eyes Short, thin

Loves to sing, write, draw, ride bikes, explore, detective shows, cook, go to church & school

Friendly, smart, curious, imaginative, helpful, good

Small group of good friends

Loves her sisters, mom and dad, people, going to school

Moved from suburbs to inner city Different type of people

Feels a bit lost and insecure Mom’s drinking

Sees Dad only on Saturdays Not much income

Evil people

Create Beauty With Words

And once the storm is over you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.” – Haruki Murakami, Kafka On The Shore

“I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes!” It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.”

― Oriah Mountain Dreamer, The Invitation

“Dance with me.”

“He stepped down, trying not to look long at her, as if she were the sun, yet her saw her like the sun, even without looking.”

Anna: If you have any thought for me, you will give me back my peace.”

Vronsky: “There can be no peace for us, only misery, and the greatest happiness.”

Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy     https://www.amazon.com/Anna-Karenina-Oxford-Worlds-Classics/dp/0198748841/

GIVE MY OPINION

“I swore never to be silent whenever and wherever human beings endure suffering and humiliation. We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.”

Elie Wiesel

TRAVEL TO FAR-AWAY PLACES

“Travel is the best way to be lost and found at the same time.”

THINK

“You may think I’m small but I have a universe inside my mind.” 

   Yoko Ono

Write a self-help book, psychology text, or an inspirational blog.

“And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, “This is the way, walk in it,” when you turn to the right or when you turn to the left.” 

“Perhaps some day I’ll crawl back home beaten defeated. But not as long as I can make stories out of my heartbreak beauty out of sorrow.” – Sylvia Plath

 “We never always saw eye to eye but we were always looking at the same thing.”  William Faulkner

“When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.”

– Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

TEACH

‘Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire.’ –William Butler Yeats

“ONE CHILD, ONE TEACHER, ONE BOOK, ONE PEN CAN CHANGE THE WORLD.”

MalalaYousafzai

You Can Write A Book About Teaching!

Out Of Our Minds by Ken Robinson

Visible Learning & The Science Of How We Learn by John Hattie and Gregory Yates

Developing Minds by Art Costa

 What Are People For? by Wendell Berry

Teaching What Matters Most  by Richard W. Strong, Harvey F. Silver, Matthew J. Perini

INSPIRE

MOTIVATE

Entertain

Let’s all go to the theatre!

n. a writer of plays; dramatist.

n. a writer of dramas or dramatic poetry. 

“Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.”

Victor Hugo

Les Miserables

“I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.”                Blanch DuBois             A Streetcar Named Desire
“All the worlds a stage, and all the men and women merely players; they have their exits and entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages.”                William Shakespeare      As You Like It

Biography: an account of someone’s life written by someone else. Similar: life story life history life memoir profile account bio                 

   “Every life is worthy of a novel.”
― Josh Steimle  

READ

Read a book, a play, a poem, a memoir, a how-to-do-something book, cookbook, adventure, and on and on!


“The world was hers for the reading.” – Betty Smith

“A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies . . . The man who never reads lives only one.” – George R.R. Martin

Write About Yourself


Frida by Frida: Selection of Letters and Texts

Frida Kahlo, the writer? In this new expanded edition of the painter’s writings, art critic Raquel Tibol gathers letters, poems, notes, protests, confessions, brief messages and longer texts written by Kahlo to her friends, her lovers and others. In her writings, Kahlo employs, in Tibol’s words, an “unreserved, imaginative language, heart and intimacy laid bare,” that reveals her taste for neologisms, colloquial turns and the crossing of linguistic boundaries. The freedom of her language is a path towards sincerity, the origin of Kahlo’s pictorial universe, with its recurring motifs: the tramway accident that left the artist physically maimed at the age of 18; her anguished and demanding adolescent passion for Alejandro Gómez Arias; her complex and fascinating relationship with Diego Rivera; her illness as destiny; her political engagements; and her uncompromising quest for liberty. Here the reader will find Kahlo “swinging back and forth between sincerity and manipulation, self-complacency and self-flagellation, with her insatiable need for affection, her erotic upheavals, her touches of humor, setting no limits for herself, with a capacity for self-analysis and a deep humility.” By gathering this material, until now scattered in archives and various published sources, Tibol offers us “a tacit autobiography and the placement of Frida within the intimate, confessional literature of the twentieth century in Mexico.” This is a Frida Kahlo far removed from the distorted image so often found in films, plays and supposedly serious writings and studies–a beautiful book about Frida, by Frida.   https://www.amazon.com/Frida-2nd-Expanded-Kahlo/dp/9685208468/

Or I Could Write About Me


The title of my first novel is Emmie of Indianapolis. The idea for this book came about when my nieces were visiting me. They were teasing me about living in the last century. Casey, who was eight at the time, wanted to know if refrigerators had been invented yet and did I have one way back then. Ten-year-old Frankie asked me about vacuum cleaners and stoves. Jamie, thirteen, wondered how I did my hair. Did they have hair dryers and even shampoo? The list went on and on until the subject of popcorn came up. Microwaves weren’t invented yet, so my mom, their grandmother, cooked popcorn on top of the stove in an old metal pot. Their eyes became very big and were so amazed as I demonstrated with my hands how you had to shake and keep the pot moving over the flame or the popcorn would burn. The girls were thrilled that they caught me with evidence of being old.

I told them other stories about when I was a young girl in Indianapolis. Even though they lived in the suburbs of Indianapolis, they’d only been downtown a few times for football games and Christmas shopping. I think it’s important for people to know their family history and the place where they live. I began by writing down a list of names, birth dates and other information of our immediate family members. As I created the list, the idea of turning the list into a book became something I felt called to do.

https://www.amazon.com/Emmie-Indianapolis-Kay-Castaneda-ebook/dp/B07G2S9MTP/

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Writers

Sylvia Plath
Sylvia Plath
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Juan Rulfo
Juan Rulfo
Frida Kahlo
Frida Kahlo
George Orwell
George Orwell
Jane Kenyon
Jane Kenyon
Gwyneth Lewis
Gwyneth Lewis
Gwyneth Lewis poet
jennifer Wong
jennifer Wong

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Kay Castaneda, Author

Kay Castaneda, Author


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Kay Castaneda, Author
24 hours ago
Kay Castaneda, Author

The Beauty Lesson

Kay Castaneda,
September 17, 2025

I still fume when I remember a boy in my 5th-grade science class. That was a very long time ago. I was shy and silent at that age and everything bothered me. My mom had moved my sisters and I away from Indianapolis to Detroit after she and my dad got a divorce. It made me sad and angry to leave my dad and other relatives here.

A mean boy told me one day that my hair was dirty. At the time, I didn’t care about hair or clothes because I was too young and depressed. When he told me that, I went home and scrubbed my hair VERY hard and soaked in the tub in steaming hot water for an hour. I poured some of my mom’s perfume, Evening in Paris, in my wet hair and went to bed. The next morning, I brushed it 100 times because I’d read that in Good Housekeeping magazine. It was so shiny! He sat next to me. I wanted to sit somewhere else, but the teacher wouldn’t let the students change seats. The boy sneered at me and didn’t complement me, but he did tell me I should use curlers. My hair was stringy, according to his opinion. What did I do that night? Of course, I curled my hair! I borrowed Mom’s brush curlers and fastened them to my head. I slept in them and tossed and turned all night because the pain in my scalp was so bad. I took them out slowly because that was the advice from Redbook magazine. I combed gently and applied tons of hairspray. The next day, that boy didn’t compliment my curly hair.

He insulted me even more when he told me I had fat lips. I used to have full lips, a lot fuller than I have as an adult, especially now as an older women. If I showed you my school picture from that year, you would see what I mean. Anyway, the boy laughed at me, and even pointed at me to the other kids. That night I practiced ways to make my lips smaller; keeping them closed and not talking to anyone, covering them with several layers of Mom’s foundation and keeping my head turned away from him.

He insulted me in many ways. According to him, I didn’t have any breasts. I was a bit confused about that one because I was obviously a girl. I went home and asked Mom to buy me a bra but she didn’t have the money. I put one of hers on and stuffed it with socks and toilet paper to make them “big”. No compliments from him, of course. I endured suffering from him about my body until Mom decided to move back home at Christmas. I never had to sit by him again.

“A girl should be two things: who and what she wants.” Coco Chanel

I thought about him the other day, and I don’t know why. Maybe it was when I washed my hair and used the curling iron. Hurt lasts a long, long time. Those people who were abused when they were younger make me feel sympathy with them. I secretly rejoice when the bad guys get outed. But those celebrities and so-called important people escape to sex-addiction clinics with equine therapy, yoga, gourmet meals, and other luxuries at the $30,000 six week stay. Six weeks to ride horses and have aromatherapy massages? Baloney! Caca in Spanish.

Now many people are coming out of the woods to bring the evil to light, and it is evil when somebody assaults a person sexually, emotionally and physically. Words can hurt. I wish I would have said something to my Mom or a teacher about that boy.

And I wish I could have told someone about abuse at my jobs as an adult. That is another story…
... See MoreSee Less

The Beauty Lesson

Kay Castaneda, 
September 17, 2025

I still fume when I remember a boy in my 5th-grade science class. That was a very long time ago. I was shy and silent at that age and everything bothered me. My mom had moved my sisters and I away from Indianapolis to Detroit after she and my dad got a divorce. It made me sad and angry to leave my dad and other relatives here.

A mean boy told me one day that my hair was dirty. At the time, I didn’t care about hair or clothes because I was too young and depressed. When he told me that, I went home and scrubbed my hair VERY hard and soaked in the tub in steaming hot water for an hour. I poured some of my mom’s perfume, Evening in Paris, in my wet hair and went to bed. The next morning, I brushed it 100 times because I’d read that in Good Housekeeping magazine. It was so shiny! He sat next to me. I wanted to sit somewhere else, but the teacher wouldn’t let the students change seats. The boy sneered at me and didn’t complement me, but he did tell me I should use curlers. My hair was stringy, according to his opinion. What did I do that night? Of course, I curled my hair! I borrowed Mom’s brush curlers and fastened them to my head. I slept in them and tossed and turned all night because the pain in my scalp was so bad. I took them out slowly because that was the advice from Redbook magazine. I combed gently and applied tons of hairspray. The next day, that boy didn’t compliment my curly hair.

He insulted me even more when he told me I had fat lips. I used to have full lips, a lot fuller than I have as an adult, especially now as an older women. If I showed you my school picture from that year, you would see what I mean. Anyway, the boy laughed at me, and even pointed at me to the other kids. That night I practiced ways to make my lips smaller; keeping them closed and not talking to anyone, covering them with several layers of Mom’s foundation and keeping my head turned away from him.

He insulted me in many ways. According to him, I didn’t have any breasts. I was a bit confused about that one because I was obviously a girl. I went home and asked Mom to buy me a bra but she didn’t have the money. I put one of hers on and stuffed it with socks and toilet paper to make them “big”. No compliments from him, of course. I endured suffering from him about my body until Mom decided to move back home at Christmas. I never had to sit by him again.

“A girl should be two things: who and what she wants.”   Coco Chanel

I thought about him the other day, and I don’t know why. Maybe it was when I washed my hair and used the curling iron. Hurt lasts a long, long time. Those people who were abused when they were younger make me feel sympathy with them. I secretly rejoice when the bad guys get outed. But those celebrities and so-called important people escape to sex-addiction clinics with equine therapy, yoga, gourmet meals, and other luxuries at the $30,000 six week stay. Six weeks to ride horses and have aromatherapy massages? Baloney! Caca in Spanish.

Now many people are coming out of the woods to bring the evil to light, and it is evil when somebody assaults a person sexually, emotionally and physically. Words can hurt. I wish I would have said something to my Mom or a teacher about that boy.

And I wish I could have told someone about abuse at my jobs as an adult. That is another story…
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Kay Castaneda, Author
2 months ago
Kay Castaneda, Author

You can read my latest post on my blog.

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BOOKPLACES Short Sweet Life
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Kay Castaneda Author Follow 625 1,838

Author of Emmie of Indianapolis, historical fiction set in the Midwest. WIP is a mystery series. Go to @kay_castaneda for my opinion on the world. 📒👩🏻‍🎓🎄

KCastanedauthor
KCastanedauthor avatar Kay Castaneda Author @KCastanedauthor ·
22h 1968227161871106117

https://substack.com/@kaywriterwarrior/note/p-173829177?r=q4mfg

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KCastanedauthor avatar Kay Castaneda Author @KCastanedauthor ·
23h 1968226141103419723

https://substack.com/@kaywriterwarrior/note/p-173829177?r=q4mfg

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KCastanedauthor avatar Kay Castaneda Author @KCastanedauthor ·
22 Aug 1958706305348289009

"The quiet novel. Rather than climactic plots and thrilling storylines meant purely to entertain, a quiet novel speaks more to our inner life. They are contemplative works of art that derive meaning from silence rather than spectacle." Poetic Outlaws
https://open.substack.com/pub/poeticoutlaws/p/subtle-thunder-ten-quiet-novels-that?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android&r=q4mfg

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KCastanedauthor avatar Kay Castaneda Author @KCastanedauthor ·
2 Aug 1951546175653335422

My latest post is now published on my blog. Thanks!

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Short Sweet Life - BOOKPLACES

BOOKPLACES Short Sweet Life

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