The Catholic Writers Guild

Is the Catholic Writers Guild for You?

Are you a Catholic writer loyal to the Magisterium and looking for a group of like-minded writers determined to assist each other in our publishing goals?

Are you an editor, publisher, or illustrator interested in furthering the development of quality faith-filled writings?

If so, the Catholic Writers' Guild may be for you.

The Catholic Writers Guild is a 501(c)(3) non-profit organization of faithful Catholic writers, artists, editors, illustrators, and allies. We are headquartered in Indianapolis. Our mission is to help build a vibrant Catholic literary culture by offering educational programs that encourage Catholic spiritual growth, teach Catholic writers about their craft as well as how to sell and market their work. We are faithful to the Magisterium of the Catholic Church.

Our regular and alumni members are practicing Catholic writers, while institutional members are persons or companies supportive of Catholic writing; institutional members need not to be Catholic, but sympathetic to Catholic practices and morals.

From Our Blog

  • CWG Prayer Chain Post: July 24, 2016

    July 24, 2016 - 5:53pm

    The CWG Prayer Chain Post is a weekly post for members to include their special intentions by adding a comment.

    Gospel, Luke 11:1-13

    Now it happened that he was in a certain place praying, and when he had finished, one of his disciples said, ‘Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.’ He said to them, ‘When you pray, this is what to say: Father, may your name be held holy, your kingdom come; give us each day our daily bread, and forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive each one who is in debt to us. And do not put us to the test.’ He also said to them, ‘Suppose one of you has a friend and goes to him in the middle of the night to say, “My friend, lend me three loaves, because a friend of mine on his travels has just arrived at my house and I have nothing to offer him;” and the man answers from inside the house, “Do not bother me. The door is bolted now, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot get up to give it to you.” I tell you, if the man does not get up and give it to him for friendship’s sake, persistence will make him get up and give his friend all he wants. ‘So I say to you: Ask, and it will be given to you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; everyone who searches finds; everyone who knocks will have the door opened. What father among you, if his son asked for a fish, would hand him a snake? Or if he asked for an egg, hand him a scorpion? If you then, evil as you are, know how to give your children what is good, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!’

     

    The power of prayer and the power of people praying.

    JULY INTENTION PRAYER (from Psalms 103)

    Bless Yahweh, my soul, from the depths of my being, his holy name;
    bless Yahweh, my soul, never forget all his acts of kindness.
    He forgives all your offenses, cures all your diseases,
    he redeems your life from the abyss, crowns you with faithful love and tenderness;
    Yahweh is tenderness and pity, slow to anger and rich in faithful love;
    his indignation does not last for ever, nor his resentment remains for all time;
    he does not treat us as our sins deserve, nor repay us as befits our offenses.
    As the height of heaven above earth, so strong is his faithful love for those who fear him.

    Please leave a comment with your intention. If you have problems adding an intention, email it to Mike Hays at coachhays(at)gmail(dot)com and I will add it.  God bless.

  • Launching the new CatholicWritersGuild.com

    July 22, 2016 - 3:07pm

    We’re just a few days away from launching a brand new CatholicWritersGuild.com website. This is one outward sign, one first step, in what I hope is ongoing growth for our Guild. Our membership is increasing. Our visibility is increasing. And from my own limited perspective – and perhaps with some bias – I see our quality increasing.

    These are, of course, the right directions to move in. But steering in the right direction sometimes puts you over a few bumps. They’ll happen, and I have faith in our ability to handle them.

    I’m looking forward to speaking to everyone more, both at the live conference and by video, in the coming week. I want to tell you more about the state of the Guild, talk about our current and future projects, and I very much want to hear from you. But for now, I’ll focus on what you need to know about our new site:

    For current members:

    You should have received an email from me with information about Paypal accounts. When the site launches on Wednesday, you’ll be able to log in with your email address.  The first time you log in, you’ll need to click “Forgot my password” so you can set a new one.

    On Wednesday, July 27, you can view a video (or attend live, if you’re at the Catholic Writers Conference) where we’ll launch the new site. Keep an eye on your email and on our Facebook group on Wednesday.

    For visitors:

    On the new site, you’ll find information about our conferences, awards, and members in a new, easier-to-navigate layout. And we’ll be adding even more in the coming months!

    For those joining:

    Starting on Wednesday, July 27, you’ll be able to join the Guild through the new website. Just click the Register button on the new site, and it will take you through everything. You can always contact us if you have any questions!

    Thank you. I’ll have all of your intentions – our visitors, our readers, our members – in my prayers this coming week at the Catholic Writers Conference.

    Christus Vincit!
    Joe Wetterling

  • But…..It’s Just Me!

    July 19, 2016 - 12:13am

    So we have arrived at the place that Bishop Fulton Sheen, John XXIII and JPII told us was imminent.  We’re there, the society that scoffs at all forms of life, ridicules God and has named every sin as good if it suits your pleasure and “hurts no one”.  Wow.  I don’t know about you but three slayings of black citizens by those who are supposed to protect us and the “reciprocal” slaying and wounding of a dozen police officers in the same week-end has left me feeling helpless, hopeless and just wanting to hide in my closet while permanently wringing  my hands and keening. Even in urban centers like Chicago, this is not a safe place!  Exhausting, confusing!

    Almost everyone I know has a similar response:  When is someone going to DO something?  Me too.  We need the system, the politicians, civic leaders, law makers, those in charge to take action and make us feel safe again!  Solutions seem so impossible and far away in this maelstrom of violence gone mad. Can’t God just take charge?  I don’t want to live in this kind of world.

    When madness is present people often say things like: How can a supposedly good God allow this?  What good is faith anyway?  All of that “religion stuff” is useless!  In light of that thinking here is a question:  If God gave you the job of cleaning up the mess along with all the skills you would need and twelve (not so able) assistants, what would you say?  No not me, Lord, I can’t, I’m busy, I’m scared!  You know what’s coming next: If not now, when?  If not you, who?  As they say, we are all in the row-boat together.  “Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying: ‘Whom shall I send?  Who will go for us?.’ ‘Here I am,’ I said; ‘send me!’” (Is 6:8 NAB)

    When hate rises, when violence manifests, those are not things that occur “en masse”.  These are things that occur one person at a time and then get passed/taught  from person to person.  Every minute of every day, you have choices.  Even if you are sitting in a location alone, you have choices.  Violence and hate are not things that you’re a powerless victim to, you have choices.  The idea that you and I are powerless in the face of these evils is the lie.  Belief in the lie is what creates powerlessness.

    What it comes down to is pretty basic.  Who are you in the world and what do you bring?  When you are confronted with a choice between something that is for God or against God which do you choose? The occasions to make that choice are not as rare as you might think.  They happen in the most sacramental environments of all; the world where you and I function every day. Do you have a prayer discipline that meets God daily as you prepare for the world?  When you are with family do you choose to be helpful and positive or cryptic and negative?  When something does not please, which do you choose: loud complaining or thank you for any favor done?  When you pass a homeless person or beggar, do you judge them in your attitude or are you generous?  Do you ever go out of your way to be inconvenienced in order to help a stranger? Do you recognize your own attitudes of judgement and do your best to “work on them”?  Do you gladly type foul and/or negative things on social media and hide in the anonymity? Do you pray, say grace and give thanks in public places? We all have countless opportunities to “serve God” every day. Acts of kindness and service are cumulative.  Many of them happen when those who know us are not present.  Others, though, observe us, hear us, watch us. Every act that we do, no matter how small, has an effect on the world.  The truth about who will fix the mess that we have arrived at is not complicated.

    We know that bread is the simplest food in the world and feeds billions. Did you ever bake bread?  All you need is flour, water, a little salt.  Beat up the dough, bake. No fancy tools, no rare ingredients.  Even nomadic people bake it on the rocks of a camp fire.  There is one additional thing, the yeast which causes the bread to be leavened. The dough literally becomes “polluted” by single-celled organisms which transform the inedible flour into life-sustaining bread.   Even at that level Jesus puts us to the challenge; “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed with three measures of wheat flour until the whole batch was leavened.” (Mt 13:33)

    We are not supposed to be waiting in despair for a super hero to slap down all the bad guys and elevate all the good people.  Look in the mirror, the simplest of truths is right there, looking at you.  Evil is defeated one person at a time. Ridiculous you say? Mmmmmmm, Catholicism, one member at the start, Mary. Today; two billion worldwide!  Wonder how that happened?

    ©2016, Kathryn M. Cunningham, All Rights Reserved

  • CWG Prayer Chain Post: July 17, 2016

    July 17, 2016 - 7:33pm

    The CWG Prayer Chain Post is a weekly post for members to include their special intentions by adding a comment.

    Genesis 18:1-10

    Yahweh appeared to him at the Oak of Mamre while he was sitting by the entrance of the tent during the hottest part of the day. He looked up, and there he saw three men standing near him. As soon as he saw them he ran from the entrance of the tent to greet them, and bowed to the ground. ‘My lord,’ he said, ‘if I find favour with you, please do not pass your servant by. Let me have a little water brought, and you can wash your feet and have a rest under the tree. Let me fetch a little bread and you can refresh yourselves before going further, now that you have come in your servant’s direction.’ They replied, ‘Do as you say.’ Abraham hurried to the tent and said to Sarah, ‘Quick, knead three measures of best flour and make loaves.’ Then, running to the herd, Abraham took a fine and tender calf and gave it to the servant, who hurried to prepare it. Then taking curds, milk and the calf which had been prepared, he laid all before them, and they ate while he remained standing near them under the tree. ‘Where is your wife Sarah?’ they asked him. ‘She is in the tent,’ he replied. Then his guest said, ‘I shall come back to you next year, and then your wife Sarah will have a son.’ Sarah was listening at the entrance of the tent behind him.

    The power of prayer and the power of people praying.

    JULY INTENTION PRAYER (from Psalms 103)

    Bless Yahweh, my soul, from the depths of my being, his holy name;
    bless Yahweh, my soul, never forget all his acts of kindness.
    He forgives all your offenses, cures all your diseases,
    he redeems your life from the abyss, crowns you with faithful love and tenderness;
    Yahweh is tenderness and pity, slow to anger and rich in faithful love;
    his indignation does not last for ever, nor his resentment remains for all time;
    he does not treat us as our sins deserve, nor repay us as befits our offenses.
    As the height of heaven above earth, so strong is his faithful love for those who fear him.

    Please leave a comment with your intention. If you have problems adding an intention, email it to Mike Hays at coachhays(at)gmail(dot)com and I will add it.  God bless.

  • Sweet Summer Poems

    July 17, 2016 - 7:14pm

    Summer is such a great month for poetry, it’s easy to laze around and read it on a hammock outside or in a cool air conditioned room. There’s less pressure to ‘do’ things constantly and more of a quote ‘relaxed’ Mediterranean feel to life. One great poem for summer is by Shelley:

    A Summer Evening Churchyard, Lechlade, Gloucestershire

    THE wind has swept from the wide atmosphere 
    Each vapour that obscured the sunset’s ray, 
    And pallid Evening twines its beaming hair 
    In duskier braids around the languid eyes of Day: 
    Silence and Twilight, unbeloved of men, 
    Creep hand in hand from yon obscurest glen. 

    They breathe their spells towards the departing day, 
    Encompassing the earth, air, stars, and sea; 
    Light, sound, and motion, own the potent sway, 
    Responding to the charm with its own mystery. 
    The winds are still, or the dry church-tower grass 
    Knows not their gentle motions as they pass. 

    Thou too, aerial pile, whose pinnacles 
    Point from one shrine like pyramids of fire, 
    Obey’st I in silence their sweet solemn spells, 
    Clothing in hues of heaven thy dim and distant spire, 
    Around whose lessening and invisible height 
    Gather among the stars the clouds of night. 

    The dead are sleeping in their sepulchres: 
    And, mouldering as they sleep, a thrilling sound, 
    Half sense half thought, among the darkness stirs, 
    Breathed from their wormy beds all living things around, 
    And, mingling with the still night and mute sky, 
    Its awful hush is felt inaudibly. 

    Thus solemnized and softened, death is mild 
    And terrorless as this serenest night. 
    Here could I hope, like some enquiring child 
    Sporting on graves, that death did hide from human sight 
    Sweet secrets, or beside its breathless sleep 
    That loveliest dreams perpetual watch did keep.

    Another great one by him as well is “The Cloud”, it’s very odd and interesting, yet beautiful with great lines: I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers,
    From the seas and the streams;
    I bear light shade for the leaves when laid
    In their noonday dreams.
    From my wings are shaken the dews that waken
    The sweet buds every one,
    When rocked to rest on their mother’s breast,
    As she dances about the sun.
    I wield the flail of the lashing hail,
    And whiten the green plains under,
    And then again I dissolve it in rain,
    And laugh as I pass in thunder.I sift the snow on the mountains below,
    And their great pines groan aghast;
    And all the night ’tis my pillow white,
    While I sleep in the arms of the blast.
    Sublime on the towers of my skiey bowers,
    Lightning, my pilot, sits;
    In a cavern under is fettered the thunder,
    It struggles and howls at fits;

    Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion,
    This pilot is guiding me,
    Lured by the love of the genii that move
    In the depths of the purple sea;
    Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills,
    Over the lakes and the plains,
    Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream,
    The Spirit he loves remains;
    And I all the while bask in Heaven’s blue smile,
    Whilst he is dissolving in rains.

    The sanguine Sunrise, with his meteor eyes,
    And his burning plumes outspread,
    Leaps on the back of my sailing rack,
    When the morning star shines dead;
    As on the jag of a mountain crag,
    Which an earthquake rocks and swings,
    An eagle alit one moment may sit
    In the light of its golden wings.
    And when Sunset may breathe, from the lit sea beneath,
    Its ardors of rest and of love,

    And the crimson pall of eve may fall
    From the depth of Heaven above,
    With wings folded I rest, on mine aery nest,
    As still as a brooding dove.
    That orbed maiden with white fire laden,
    Whom mortals call the Moon,
    Glides glimmering o’er my fleece-like floor,
    By the midnight breezes strewn;
    And wherever the beat of her unseen feet,
    Which only the angels hear,
    May have broken the woof of my tent’s thin roof,
    The stars peep behind her and peer;
    And I laugh to see them whirl and flee,
    Like a swarm of golden bees,
    When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent,
    Till the calm rivers, lakes, and seas,
    Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high,
    Are each paved with the moon and these.

    I bind the Sun’s throne with a burning zone,
    And the Moon’s with a girdle of pearl;
    The volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel and swim
    When the whirlwinds my banner unfurl.
    From cape to cape, with a bridge-like shape,
    Over a torrent sea,
    Sunbeam-proof, I hang like a roof,–
    The mountains its columns be.
    The triumphal arch through which I march
    With hurricane, fire, and snow,
    When the Powers of the air are chained to my chair,
    Is the million-colored bow;
    The sphere-fire above its soft colors wove,
    While the moist Earth was laughing below.

    I am the daughter of Earth and Water,
    And the nursling of the Sky;
    I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores;
    I change, but I cannot die.
    For after the rain when with never a stain
    The pavilion of Heaven is bare,
    And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams
    Build up the blue dome of air,
    I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,
    And out of the caverns of rain,
    Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb,
    I arise and unbuild it again.

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The CWG Prayer

Holy Family, guide our minds, our hearts, our hands, as we write, speak, illustrate – help our words to live in union with the Word.

Teach us discipline and skill to use the talents God gives us.

Give us also insight and courage to convey God's love through our craft, and humility to be open to His divine will, shaping our lives, in loving loyalty to His Church.

In Christ's name,

Amen.

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