Writer to writer
A passionate storyteller from an early age, Cris Burks always had a knack for creating captivating stories. In fact, her ability to bring her imagination to life began when she was a child, using her creativity to keep her sixteen younger siblings entertained and engaged. As the years went on, Cris’s passion for storytelling only grew deeper. After working hard to achieve her M.F.A. in creative writing at Columbia College Chicago, and teaching at Columbia for several years, she transformed her craft into a celebrated career as an author and poet.
Her work has been featured in numerous publications, most notably the anthology Gumbo: A Celebration of African American Writers. Her debut novel, SilkyDreamGirl, “a down-to-earth and engaging tale,” according to Booklist contributor Lillian Lewis, features Katie Coomers, thirty-seven, a veteran of four marriages, and still looking for love, but now on the internet. It went on to receive a spot on BET.com’s Best Books of 2002 list. Her follow-up novel, Neecey’s Lullaby, released in 2006, depicts an honest, heartfelt account of growing up through life’s tribulations and triumphs and what it means to find independence amongst it all.
Cris is dedicated to sharing her passion for the art of writing. Her main purpose for crisburks.com is to provide insight into the writing process through book reviews and short writing goals.
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POEM OF THE WEEK
We are amazed by Sstirred by S Curvaceous SSlithering across the pageWe are searchingfor the insidious Sthat does not break heartsthe S that is settled,self-possessedthat does not screamwhen the smoothness of lifebecomes a stormWe listen to the quietness of S the...
You seek to be profound, so, you mock God You take your mother's beliefs Light them Burn the prayers she whispered over you Burn the blessings You mock the wisdom of your father Twist it into metal absurdities mutilate every righteous thought of you You seek to be...
Fold into the luscious shadows where history trills a mournful song and wisdom ropes around the throat We are ancient We are ancient and wise We are ancient, wise and invisible We are here. How sorrowful the sunlight here where we are cast upon a barren land Pause and...