Books by Janice
- Written and illustrated by Janice Lynch Schuster, What Are Mothers For? is the first in a series about the people we love and live with. In Mothers, the brief story follows the milestones in our lives, from the first day of school to our first heartbreak, and from learning to cook to learning to let go. Twenty percent of proceeds are donated to Reading Partners Baltimore, whose mission helps struggling readers know and achieve the joy of reading.
- Janice displays her artwork on Handmade from Amazon. Work inspired by poetry, music, and experiences of beauty. Commissions taken for drawings and notecards, too. See her Etsy Shop
- Practical advice and down-to-earth comfort for people facing life’s end and their loved ones. Handbook for Mortals
- Poetry about aging, love, family and boxing. Saturday at the Gym
Tag Archives: love
Thanks to the editors at www.thcb.org for featuring my tribute to David Bowie and one of my favorite songs, Ground Control to Major Tom. I’ve contributed to THCB in the past, but always about health policy. I’m glad to have found … Continue reading
It is so hard to keep on loving this life, when you see how quickly it is gone. What choice do we have? My drawing tribute to David Bowie. You might even be able to color it.
If you have ever loved a child, been a beloved child, or remembered happy moments shared with adults you loved, What Are Mothers For? will speak to your heart. With whimsical drawings accompanied by simple text, the book shows and tells … Continue reading
Working on a series of three illustrated books celebrating relationships between women, granddaughters, and grandmothers. Posting a few here. Responses would be most welcome. key words: illustrations, art, zentangles, grandmothers, grief,love
The gardening catalogues land with their beautiful images of what you could pull from the dirt if only you had the latest tools in this year’s Pantone colors, and sand delivered from some Holy Land. If only you outfitted the … Continue reading
For Grandmom June 26, 1915-November 4, 1994 I was born into a golden dream of an old woman’s heart. She held me when others could not, rubbed my ear, whispered lullabyes, rocked me hard or soft. I thought I’d always … Continue reading
What we needed, we did not want. What we wanted, we did not need. Whatever safety I sought in you Did not exist there. We were in a cold room, two sticks for hearts. When they rubbed together, … Continue reading
I no longer remember why I hated My mother, such strong words For pass-a-day disputes. She was a girl Herself, and I, hers. What she knew Of love and safety, to me, a long list Of should-nots built on her … Continue reading