Meet SCW Judith Liebaert

Hey there! Popping in to introduce myself—

Judith Liebaert

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/judithliebaert
Twitter:  https://twitter.com/MAD_Goddess1
Website:http:  //judithliebaert.com/

Author of the crime novel, Sins Of The Fathers available in paperback and Kindle version at Amazon






So, what’s my story?

I joined the Saint Croix Writer's (SCW) group over 25 years ago. I have a background in communications and marketing, but writing is my first love. I've worked as an editor and publisher, and also owned an independent book publishing company, Paper Moon Publishing, that specialized in Northern Wisconsin/Minnesota non-fiction books.  I currently work as a freelance journalist and business writer/consultant. 

I suppose I’m a rather ordinary woman in ordinary times, with a lot to say about that. It explains the writing that takes up my spare time—short stories, essays, op-eds, the occasional poem and novels. One published so far, Sins of the Fathers, Tellectual Press 2016.

I have been a daughter, sister, friend, lover, wife, mother, grandmother, cat lady and somebody’s favorite crazy auntie (I hope). All these labels define me by my relationship to others. I am also a reader and, by extension, a lover of words and writing; yet another defining relationship. As with all love affairs, the time I spend with the object of my desire, good books, has sustains me—but the best ones I’ve experienced have changed me in profound ways. To think that I might someday be a catalyst for change humbles me.

I am a writer, and my story is ever changing. I look forward to sharing it with you.

Hemlock grove

this is almost silly, that I am the least gifted writer in the group and the first poster.  But, I said I had my version of a sonnet to post and I will.   I wrote this last winter.    Sandy Nelson


I don't think God will mind
If I call my Hemlock grove a Cathedral
Stillness and grandeur is what you will find
Birdsong, sound of blowing wind fills that hall

Worshipping deer graze, preying owls attend
Needles reflect sun as candlelight
Through underground tunnels the mice monks wend
Tree trunks declare their majestic height

Through forest doors steps the wolf priest
The solemn worship service is filled with power
All hail the creation and its living leased
Perched on branches, traveling on aisles under spreading needle tower

Maybe God would reply, "the cathedral shall be called a Hemlock Grove
One came first and was not a structure humans wove"