Cindy Eastman

Cindy Eastman is an award-winning author whose work is informed by her ability to be an observer as well as a participant in her life. Cindy’s first book, Flip-Flops After 50: And Other Thoughts On Aging I Remembered To Write Down, was published in 2014. She has essays in several other anthologies and in online magazines and writes a weekly essay called Silver Linings. She is the creator of the “Writual” writing program, has presented nationally at the Story Circle Network Women's Writing Conference, and has been a featured speaker on a number of panels and programs. An educator for over twenty-five years, she has a master’s degree in education and is an adjunct at Naugatuck Valley Community College teaching English. Cindy lives with her husband, Angelo, in Watertown, Connecticut.

Instagram: @mywritual/

Facebook: @CLEastmanAuthor

Is your go to comfort food sweet or savory? Is it something you make yourself? Does food inspire your writing?

I would have to say savory—and the cheesier the better. Lately, I’ve been obsessing about a particular brand of frozen pizza and topping it with a caramelized onion—even though it’s a frozen pizza I make the onions myself, so it counts as homemade to me. Food doesn’t inspire my writing so much as accompany it—I get very snacky when I write so I try to have some healthy snacks available, usually the salty, crunchy kind. Although I wouldn’t say no to a plate of just baked chocolate chip cookies.

Have you ever experienced Imposter Syndrome?

Almost every day! I wrote an essay about it in my first book. It’s a topic that comes up frequently with writers I think, because we spend a lot of time alone when we work without any kind of regular feedback on the job we’re doing. For example, you know you’re a teacher because you’re in a classroom and there are kids all around you. Or you know you’re a CEO because you’re telling everyone what to do and you have an enormous income. But writers (and other solo artists I suppose) are just sitting at home creating stuff without any benchmarks to let us know we’re accomplishing something.

Not all books are for all readers… when you start a book and you just don’t like it, how long do you read until you bail?

I used to try and stick with a book, even when I began to lose interest. Then I was a judge for the CT Book Awards for a few years and tasked with reading up to 30 books in what felt like a very short span of time, maybe 6-8 weeks. I learned to determine whether or not a book would hold my interest in the first couple of chapters and not feel bad that I was letting the author down. As a judge, I felt like I gave the book an honest shot—but as the question says—not all books are for all readers.

Do you have another artistic outlet in addition to your writing? Do you sew? Paint? Draw? Knit? Dance?

There is one creative outlet I have that is quite unsophisticated, but it brings me a lot of contentment. I do pencil sketches of ants in various activities that depict a word they represent—which always has the word “ant” in it. Like “celebrant” or “antenna.” They are very rudimentary, literally stick-figure ants, but somehow, I am able to focus on the drawing and it takes me out of my head when I do it.

What piece of clothing tells the most interesting story about your life?

When I was divorced from my kids’ dad, I had to drive them over to his house on Sunday mornings after church. I had tan suede jacket that I usually wore since it was one of the few “nice” things I owned, and invariably, once I dropped the kids off at their dad’s house, I spent the drive back to my little apartment crying, my tears rolling down the front of that jacket. Week after week, tear after tear, I wore that jacket and it gathered more stains. One day, years later, after the kids had grown and I was remarried, I took the jacket out of the closet and thought, “Well, it’s time to get rid of this old thing—it’s a mess!” I took it to the dry cleaner with the intention of having them clean it up and donate it. But a few days later, I went back and retrieved it—it was more than an old, tear-stained jacket. It was a badge of courage, a memento from a really difficult time in my life. I don’t wear it much anymore, but I still have it to this day.