Kelly Corrigan in 2 minutes

Kelly Corrigan has written four New York Times bestselling memoirs in the last decade, earning her the title of “The Poet Laureate of the ordinary” from the Huffington Post and the “voice of a generation” from O Magazine. She is curious and funny and eager to go well past the superficial in every conversation. She has also penned some very popular Op-Eds about applying to college, becoming an empty nester and giving advice to teenagers in the New York Times.

 
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I spend the lion’s share of my time making podcast episodes, which is dreamy for two reasons: I get to talk to super special people about their work AND I get to collaborate daily with one of my nearest and dearest (and Oscar-winning producer) Tammy Stedman.

I am also working on a new manuscript. I had written a huge long thing about my dad but recently pulled it to start on something new related to a TED talk I am giving this year.

My daughter Claire and I have also written a new children’s book that I totally love but can’t tell you that much about yet. Rest assured, when the time is right, I’ll be posting.

Generally speaking, I am only able to muster the stamina to keep making things because I get nice notes and see nice posts from people who find my work useful. So if you’re one of those people who have shared your enthusiasm one way or another, I really can’t tell you how important you are to the creators you celebrate in your feeds.

On the personal side, I worry constantly, about my husband getting in a car accident or my kids getting snatched by a desperado or a mole on my nose turning out to be the thing that does me in.  However, I believe worry is the backside of gratitude, so that means that when I get anxious, I am actually acutely feeling my good fortune.  And clinging to it with both hands.

I love live performances of almost any kind, especially music but also lectures and readings and plays. Some favorites: Dear Evan Hansen, Beck, Shawn Colvin and listening to Marilynne Robinson or David Sedaris read anything.

I worked in non-profits for ten years and volunteered for another ten. Those decades created my worldview, which goes: people are struggling, make yourself useful.  These days, my big project in that department involves an upcoming podcast series called About Your Mother in which Christy Turlington Burns and I talk moms with big time celebs like Jennifer Garner and Robin Roberts. We hope to raise $100,000 through listeners and guests for Christy’s non profit, Every Mother Counts because no way should women still be dying during childbirth. It’s just so preventable and you and I both know that every kid needs a mom.

I paint or puzzle most weeks (often in my pajamas) (like a crazy person) (but a happy crazy person) and that’s what’s working so I just keep doing it.

I went to three great schools: Radnor High School, where Dr. Mary Anne Capa showed me what actual scholarship looks like; University of Richmond, which was a whole lot of fun and introduced me to some of my all-time favorite people; and San Francisco State University (for a Masters in Literature) where I was humbled by 1,000 page-a-week reading assignments and floored that for $600 a semester, I could sit in weekly seminars with professors like Michael Krasny (host of KQED Forum) and Bruce Avery.

As for the family, we are missing Greenie.  My mom is a bridge goddess and daily churchgoer.  My brother George is a big time recruiter, as well as a rock and roll musician, and my other brother, Booker, is a lacrosse announcer for ESPN and has his own sports talk radio show.

Edward has become obsessed with machine learning and, along with some old work friends, is running an AI company called Machinify.  The girls and I hope it works; we dream of future family vacations.

Speaking of which, the girls are coming right along.  My 22 year-old is all the way through Georgetown and working hard at JP Morgan in NYC; my 20 year-old is what they call a third-year at UVA and is obsessed with stand up comedy, coding and a camp for kids whose parents have had cancer called Kesem.