Author Archives: Nancy Wait

About Nancy Wait

Nancy Wait is an artist a writer, a writing coach/editor, and author of the memoir "The Nancy Who Drew, The Memoir That Solved A Mystery." She is a former actress (stage, film and TV) in the UK under the name of Nancie Wait. She hosted the blog talk radio show "Art and Ascension," and more recently, "Inspirational Storytellers." Nancy is currently at work on the sequel to her memoir, "The Nancy Who Drew the Way Home," to be published in 2016.

Healing Past Life Memory

Carol Lamb on past life memories: “It’s the healing that proves the story; an exchange of energy occurs in the process, but there has to be a letting go.” Continue reading

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The Self-P and the Self-E

(The Self-P is for Self-Portrait. Self-portraits were the first Selfies, pre-dating them by hundreds of years. Plus they took a lot longer.) Continue reading

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En Pointe!

I have no conscious memory as a ballerina in a past life. But the dream of dancing en pointe showed me that I knew how to do it. Whether or not my physical brain remembered, there was a memory in my light body. Perhaps a cellular memory of another time, another place. Continue reading

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A Post-Shame Point of View

“The challenge is to write about shame from a post-shame point of view, to enter an ego-free zone, cleared of mirror-worship and whining, to walk out naked and speak intimately…” Continue reading

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Me and My Shadow (Self)

I call these pictures Me and My Shadow. One is a photo and the other is a self-portrait taking place around the same time. And they don’t even look like the same person. Continue reading

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Stopping the Judging

If you’re writing a story, you want to tell people where it takes place. Are you at the seaside? Are you in the city? The park? A room somewhere? Being in a melodrama is a place too. Continue reading

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The Earrings

It was a tiny shop. There was no one there but a woman in a sari standing behind the glass counter. She smiled at me as I came in. Or rather, her face lit up, causing me to wonder if I had been the only customer that day. I smiled back. She wasn’t young, somewhere in her forties I would have thought. Her long sleek black hair fell in a thick braid down her back. I pointed to the earrings in the window and asked if she could bring them in for me to see. Continue reading

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