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    • Home
    • Memoir
      • About The Author
      • About The Story
      • Reviews
      • Family
      • videos
    • Poetry
      • Aftermath
      • The Cloisters
    • My Blog
    • mental illness news
    • Contact
    • Author News
      • Interviews
      • Appearances
  • Home
  • Memoir
    • About The Author
    • About The Story
    • Reviews
    • Family
    • videos
  • Poetry
    • Aftermath
    • The Cloisters
  • My Blog
  • mental illness news
  • Contact
  • Author News
    • Interviews
    • Appearances

Katherine Flannery Dering

Katherine Flannery DeringKatherine Flannery DeringKatherine Flannery Dering

Writer Feminist Mental Health Advocate

Writer Feminist Mental Health Advocate Writer Feminist Mental Health Advocate Writer Feminist Mental Health Advocate

A bit more about the writer

Behind the words

I've been Spanish teacher, full time mother, businesswoman, and writer, trying to make sense of disasters such as schizophrenia and drug overdose. Now I share what I've learned with the world. I feel compelled to create; often a sudden inspiration while I am driving requires that I stop and jot it down. A phrase, an urgent new expression of a belief, a moment of sorrow, a truth. Scraps of scribbled paper beg life as a poem or essay. A series of inspirations becomes a book. I love beautiful sentences, a carefully crafted image, the aha! moments when writing something I never knew before.

My memoir: Shot in the Head

My younger brother Paul was more than a "schizophrenic."  He was a brother, a son, and above all, a person that my eight siblings and I loved.  My family had lived with Paul's mental illness for years, and I had grown used to his strange stories (like asserting that he'd been shot in the head) and his sometimes frightening behavior.  It wasn't until his care -- and his treatments for lung cancer -- started taking more and more of my attention that I realized his story demanded to be written.  

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My poetry collection, Aftermath

When my 19 year old nephew died of a drug overdose, I could hardly comprehend what had happened. In the dizzying next 18 months, two dear friends also died. I lost interest in other writing projects, and I found myself writing from sorrow. How do I make sense of my life in the face of death's inevitability? How do any of us?


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