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Welcome.

Wendy A. Miller is a nonfiction writer and poet from Portland, Oregon. Her short stories have been in several anthologies published by Personal Story Publishing Project and featured in their 6-Minute Stories Podcast. Other work has been in Sweet Tree Review, Adelaide Literary Magazine, and Grown and Flown, where her essay ranked 14 in their “Parent Best Posts of 2020.” Tiny Seed Literary Journal: Anthology Forest (Aug. 3, 2021) and The Weekly Avocet (#450) have published her poetry. 

 

 

 

Welcome.

Wendy A. Miller is a nonfiction writer and poet from Portland, Oregon. Her short stories have been in several anthologies published by Personal Story Publishing Project and featured in their 6-Minute Stories Podcast. Other work has been in Sweet Tree Review, Adelaide Literary Magazine, and Grown and Flown, where her essay ranked 14 in their “Parent Best Posts of 2020.” Tiny Seed Literary Journal: Anthology Forest (Aug. 3, 2021) and The Weekly Avocet (#450) have published her poetry. 

Publications

Seconds Count

Seconds Count

With my eyes half-closed and head tipped back, I relish the warm sun shining on my face through the car windshield. After a winter of drizzle and Covid, the first hint of spring fills my lungs with hope.
My Son’s College Dealt a Crushing Blow…

My Son’s College Dealt a Crushing Blow…

#14 ON GROWN AND FLOWN PARENTS' COUNTDOWN OF THE BEST POSTS OF 2020 I blame the purchase of the XL twin sheets for setting off the COVID bomb that blew up my son’s college plans.
Mom Conquers Volcano

Mom Conquers Volcano

An eruption of inner strength Across 40 years, a childhood experience and an opportunity with new friends are forged into appreciation and gratitude. Listen directly at RandellJones.com/6minutestories
To Be Seen

To Be Seen

To Be Seen Outside my back windows are Douglas fir trees. So familiar, I call them friends. Tall, steadfast, and strong with a tinge of whimsical Revealed when their limbs shadow-dance on my walls.
Personal Essay: The Mountains We Climb

Personal Essay: The Mountains We Climb

My mom had breast cancer when she was 53. She is now 78, walks most mornings in the mall, and has never had a reoccurrence. I am a worrier, so I assumed that I, too, would get breast cancer someday.
My Son Didn’t Think He Was Ready for College

My Son Didn’t Think He Was Ready for College

A senior year is full of lasts. As my son started his, I told myself that I was going to absorb all the lasts this year like sunshine warming my face. I would shed some tears, but I didn’t want to grieve time passing.

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