This week, I began my two-month writer-in-residence stint at the Scottsdale Public Library.
This magnificent moment never appeared on my personal viewfinder when I stepped away from my communication consulting career twelve years ago. (I was mired in grief after my mother’s death.) But maybe it should have.
I had spent thirty-four years writing for small, medium, and large-sized companies. Helping them tell their stories. So, I had spent a good deal of time honing my writing craft. But it was never personal.
Finally, in February 2014, I began to tell my stories. That led to my first book, From Fertile Ground.
It is a memoir, which I published in 2016. Now, five books and a decade later, I’m coaching aspiring writers, sharing what I have learned along the way.
On Monday afternoons in February and March, I’ll be meeting one-on-one here in The Alcove, a triangular-shaped office at the Scottsdale Public Library, with other storytellers.
(I also will lead a three-part, memoir-writing workshop for a group of sixteen writers in February and March in a space around the corner from The Alcove.)
It will be my pleasure–my honor really–to help guide young and old participants on their creative journeys. No doubt, I will learn a few important things from them, too.
More than anything, if I can help others by unlocking or fine-tuning their writing prowess and passion, then I will have done my job.
We must continue to record and share our personal truths, our fears, our dreams, our memories with others without fear of repercussions.
I believe that is especially significant at this moment in American history.
Inside The Alcove or outside in the everyday world, let’s all vow to keep writing in 2026.
Because art–and that certainly includes good writing– informs, engages, entertains, inspires, and spurs the heart, mind, and spirit. It helps us develop greater compassion for one another and reach new heights.
I believe we can do all that and more by telling our stories.
Mark Johnson Stories 