Author Archives: Brett Ann Stanciu

About Brett Ann Stanciu

A writer and sugarmaker, Brett Ann lives with her two daughters in stony soil Vermont. Her novel HIDDEN VIEW was published by Green Writers Press in the fall of 2015. Let my writing speak for itself.


Just after dusk, I stand by my garden talking to a friend when all kinds of things begin happening — a luminescent full moon quickly rises; a fox appears at the edge of a nearby woods and watches us; and … Continue reading

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Spiritual Crisis

Tanned and wearing overalls, a woman comes into my library and gathers a stack of library books for her children. For this moment, it’s just the two of us. She’s a woman who doesn’t usually check out books for herself, … Continue reading

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Car Keys

In the evenings, my daughter lifts the car keys from the hook on the wall, and we drive. In the passenger seat, I laugh a little, and she looks at me from the edges of her eyes. What? I haven’t … Continue reading

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Sleeping Outside

Lake, rock, sun, rain…. much to my incredible surprise, we actually managed to camp on an island in Lake Champlain this summer. For years, we’ve gone every summer — the girls and I — sleeping in a lean-to and inevitably … Continue reading

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Rain fell yesterday morning. I stood in my dusty garden, thinking, Bring it on. Halfway through the morning, the light held the thin green translucence, like we moved in a piece of sea glass that was alive. All afternoon in … Continue reading

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Hello, roses! The day I bought this house, I realized roses bloomed beneath the dining room windows. Of all the things I scrutinized when house buying — location and purchase price and paint — I never considered these old, overgrown … Continue reading

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This morning, the world smells so good. With my coffee cup, I walk around the dewy garden in my bare feet. There’s weeding to be done and more sowing of seeds and plants. We’re in a long dry patch, and … Continue reading

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Driving home from work, I see my daughter and her friend walking through town, talking. I pull over, and they run across the road. We stand there for a little while, talking. There’s nothing particularly remarkable about this at all. They … Continue reading

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Driving Lessons

In the evening, as the dusk moves in, we play hearts on the back porch, my feet wet from watering the garden. It’s dry, with no rain in the forecast but thunderstorms possibly moving in this weekend. After dinner and … Continue reading

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Meanwhile, domesticity. I’m weeding the garden after dinner when my youngest comes out of the house with the car keys in one hand and her driver’s permit in the other. I’m leaving, she says, smiling at me. Why don’t I come, … Continue reading

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