About Nancy Chadwick

NANCY CHADWICK is an essayist, memoirist, and fiction writer. She got her first job at Leo Burnett advertising agency in Chicago. After a decade there, and later, another decade in corporate banking, she quit and began to write full time, finding inspiration from her years living in Chicago and in San Francisco. Nancy is the author of Under the Birch Tree: A Memoir of Discovering Connections and Finding Home, The Wisdom of the Willow, a novel, and has also written essays that have appeared in The Magic of Memoir: Inspiration for the Writing Journey, Adelaide Literary Magazine, Meaningful Conflicts – The Art of Friction, Writer’s Digest, blogs by the Chicago Writers Association Write City, and Brevity.

The Birch Tree – Child’s POV

A writing prompt from one of my writing groups was to write about a summer day. We were to write a scene, from 2 different POV's - a child and adult, from a childhood memory. I pulled a scene from my memoir (in progress) where I was having my picture taken on my first day of kindergarten. When I completed [...]

My Pink Book

Taken from a 2000 word essay, this short is the beginning to the unfolding of my spirituality. I heard the call. It wasn’t a whisper or a delicate voice or loud words urging me to transcribe thoughts to paper. The call did sound like an alarm, telling me it was time to awaken a dormant spirit. I was ready to [...]

A Summer’s Meditation

I discovered a beloved part of my summer day around five o’clock in the late afternoon when I was home from college break and lucky enough to have access to the townhouse’s subdivision swimming pool. I sauntered to a sticky plastic lounge chair, once occupied by a young mother with a rambunctious three year-old, and spread eagled in relaxation. The [...]

2015-07-21T19:44:51+00:00July 21, 2015|Categories: memoir, spiritual writing|Tags: , , , |

Flight

I hit the road early on July 1, 2013 with blue skies and a sun that showed the exceptional day well with a temperature of 71 degrees and light winds. Forty-five minutes later, I found hangar 1005. I was cashing in on a Total Immersion Flight lesson at Chicago Executive Flight School. I took a pluck from my bucket list [...]

Wild Mushrooms and My Memoir

I attended the annual Printer’s Row Lit Fest in Chicago this past weekend. Since I started writing over 10 years ago, I have been driving the 45 minute trip in June to the city to walk five blocks, on Dearborn, from Congress to Polk. My only driving force to visit the Fest at that time was to check out small [...]

Don’t Circle Your Target

Why write 3 full paragraphs leading up to your main point in your writing, when you can do it in one? I asked myself this question after reading a recent blog post, “The Art of Submission: Inquiring After Our Work.” Good title. I was interested in reading the post. Like most nonfiction writers, I read anything I can get my [...]

Shown, Not Told. How Stephen King’s “On Writing” worked for me.

I never thought I would ever pick up a book by Stephen King. I’m a writer of memoir, creative nonfiction. He is a writer of – not sure- but I’ll call it science fiction, mystery, and other far out stuff with aliens and the supernatural. I can’t say I have read any of his books. Not my general interest of [...]

I Buried the Lead

I am a writer. I have a degree in Journalism. I learned a couple of things during my college journalism classes. The first was that I was not going to be a reporter. I did not have a knack, let alone a desire to be a fact seeker and then report on whatever the news was. I’m not good at [...]

Writing – Hobby or Job?

The truth can sting like a bee to a warm, plump thigh. When a “shark” from TV’s Shark Tank bluntly tells the contestant, “This is a hobby, and not a business,” a fight or flight switches on. Either anger ignites his checks to red or he cowers in admittance that maybe the “shark” is correct. There is much conversation about [...]

2015-04-06T20:27:05+00:00April 6, 2015|Categories: book writing, manuscript, memoir, writers, Writing|Tags: , , , , |

Under the Birch Tree-Broken Circle

On the weekends, sitting in the den was not required before dinner like weekdays. Before dinner during the week, Timmy and I were required to remain seated until Dad got home from work, went to the bathroom to wash up, replacing a lingering work smell with the odor of a very dry vodka martini and a lit Tareyton cigarette. Timmy [...]

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