About Amy Rawe
I’m a forty-seven-year-old single mom raising a feisty six-year-old daughter, and this is my corner to doodle during the margins of our days. Until now, my writing work has mostly been for other people — as an editor of a small town newspaper, as an editor at a magazine called Hope (didn’t float), and as Communications Director at the Make-A-Wish Foundation of Maine. Those are the big chunks . . . there have been random jobs and wanderings in between, even in far-flung places. (Ask me what the mashed potatoes I ate in Indonesia really were, or what dagging means.)
These days, I’m a work-at-home-writer who has a bad habit of incessantly picking at my eyebrows when I get stuck on something I’m working on. The pencils in my desk drawer are actually eyebrow pencils.
Despite that nervous tic, my default belief setting is that everything’s gonna’ be alright and that the sweet celebrations of motherhood far outweigh the challenges. In the “is the glass half-full or half-empty” conversation, I guess I’d be the one to say, “Why just a glass? Bring a pitcher, and fill ‘er up!”