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Sacred Drafts

By Judy Bolton-Fasman

I am approaching the end of my time in Grub Street’s Memoir Incubator. This is a moment of transition similar to a graduation. I will inevitably have to leave the sturdy structure that my sister incubees and I—we are nine women in this first class—have built together with our indefatigable instructor this year. No more workshopping together, no more accountability for writing two thousand words a week. I’ll be on my own. Or will I?