In my world of creative nonfiction and literary journals, Virginia Woolf never ceases to be an inspiration for writers. Here are two recent contributions:
One panel in the Woolf display in the foyer of the Virginia Woolf Building at King’s College, London
In USC’s Air/Light Journal, Emily Hodgson Anderson writes in “No Room of One’s Own” that “…in frustrated moments as a writer, I feel Woolf’s resentment of my state. If I were a man, I think, or, if I had more money, more room, more time . . . perhaps I would emerge as Woolf’s cryptic Judith Shakespeare, my genius freed from the domestic labor of my life.”
“As Woolf knew, illness, like trauma, lingers, even after we think we’ve recovered,” writes Gabrielle Bellot, exploring the complexity of detailing sickness in the age of COVID at Lit Hub, in “Interpreter of Maladies: On Virginia Woolf’s Writings About Illness and Disability.”
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