Friday, September 28, 2007



That is all.

No, not really. I lied. Writer's group went very well. That makes me happy.



Sunday, September 23, 2007

At least penguins are dressed when they are naked.

I found the map again. I had mapped the town in my story, because I am visual, and want to be able to picture the goings on around town. I lost the map, and then I found it, and then I misplaced it again, and then found it yesterday. Again. I am amused by losing and then finding maps.

Anyway, I might have to rename streets, because State and Main is just a little too clich├ęd for me this morning. Eh.

I sent the first chapter of this to the writer's group yesterday. My anxiety about it faded some, but talk about the emperor with no clothes. Sadly, I am picturing penguins right now. I do need a little more coffee I think.

I will map some more, and then see what the day brings. Have a good one.

Saturday, September 22, 2007

fly away little birdie, fly away

Two little blackbirds sitting on a wall
One named Peter and one named Paul
Fly away Peter, fly away Paul,
Come back Peter, come back Paul.

The writing group that I have joined, is a go for next Friday, 2:00 if we don't get permanently lost in the corn maze that morning. Kid's field trip. So I now have to decide which prose I want to send for review.

I am siding with the Trapper first chapter, because that is nearest my heart, and also the most polished as it is 3 years old very shortly. I was inspired by a friend's tales of her home town. It prompted me for the first time in my life to write a character whose story would not go away. Writers talk of that, characters grabbing hold, and this happened to me. So here I am 35K later, only getting to the middle, and it is still around. No one has read any of this, other than a paragraph or two. So I am contemplating the first chapter for this writing group. In one way, I don't want to know what anyone thinks, because, like having your kids held out for review. But on the other hand, I haven't a clue what it is really like, so in that, a review from the others.

But then I have this other short story, prompted by my great uncle (my grandmother's uncle) named Seraphim (who would name that kid that!! ego much?), and a cross between that and some online quiz that gave me the other character's name, and then the story was born. I am a little more curious about this one, because I am so close to it, and can see it on repeat in my mind, that I wonder how it would be read. It seems religious, because angel type creatures, but that isn't what it is. But it would seem like that, and that in between place I find really fascinating. How religion could change the story, how our human mythologies would change how these creatures would be viewed by the reader? Plus touching religious images is always hot button. And if I even come close to making that clear, while still keeping the mythology intact. I know I am not there yet, and it still needs tons of work, less polished then the Trapper chapter. Choices, choices...

In between spaces are so fascinating. The taking of the "what is" and pushing and pulling, and playing with the spaces and the placement and breaking it, and seeing the new empty spaces. And the new forms of what becomes. So cool. Dawn's drawing in The Body. /BtVS reference.

Taking characters who on first read seem sleazy and maybe mean, poor choices, and finding their humanity, and playing with that. Letting them see that too, I think that is cool. One of the themes in the Trapper story, is the idea about how people see other people, and how that affects each of them. How the idea of the town view, the public spectacle of someone's life is the same and different from their inner life. Again, the in between places. That line I wrote in one of my April poems about the spaces between the leaves, the trees, really placed it down. Funny how one line of poetry can say it so clearly.

Have a great day.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

More love

Alive Together by Lisel Mueller
On the Grasshopper and the Cricket by John Keats
Fire On The Hills by Robinson Jeffers
I Am Not I by Juan Ramon Jimenez (translated by Robert Bly)
Valentine by Carol Ann Duffy
The Swan by Rainer Maria Rilke (found this on a Dallas subway)
To his Coy Mistress by Andrew Marvel
Selecting A Reader by Ted Kooser
Kubla Khan by Samuel Taylor Coleridge (I have the pop up book edition. So cool)

There are always more.

ETA: Now we are getting to the oh yah, can't forget this one.

Snow by Louis Macneice...
The Road Not Taken - By Robert Frost
The World's Wife by Carol Ann Duffy (the whole thing)...

First go round. I love these every time. Ballad of Reading Gaol

With No Experience In Such Matters by Stephen Dunn
Welcome by Stephen Dunn
Mon Semblable by Stephen Dunn
Chamber Music IX by James Joyce
A Refusal to Mourn the Death, by Fire, of a Child in London by Dylan Thomas
Edge by Silvia Plath
Handfuls by Karl Sandburg
We are Seven by William Wordsworth
Sonnet 17 by William Shakespeare
Ya I know, a small theme emerges. Mostly from bookmarks in groups. But a theme nevertheless.
The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by TS Eliot (Yes, I know The Waste Land is a better poem, but I think this one is more evocative and truthful. Viagra use in poetry, lilac indeed.) ::waves to one reader::
Belief & Technique For Modern Prose by Jack Kerouac (a poem that is hiding as a list)
Dishonest by Michael Redhill
Shapeshifter Poems by Lucille Clifton
Request to a Year by Judith Wright
A Postcard From The Volcano by Wallace Stevens
On a Tree Fallen Across the Road by Robert Frost
Hurrahing in Harvest by Gerard Manley Hopkins
God's Grandeur by Gerard Manley Hopkins
The Snow Man by Wallace Stevens (I think of it as Mind of Winter)
A Sort Of A Song by William Carlos Williams
The Lost Children by Randall Jarrell

More later.


Dr. Whupass's Bitch Ass Poetry Roundup is having their denizens post their own poetry canons. That is what I shall be gathering to post here sometime soon. What a cool idea... pass it on...

Sunday, September 16, 2007

Like icing

I read the other day that boredom is rage spread thin. I have been thinking about this, and for me it would be more accurate to say that boredom is passion spread thin. I think that rage spread thin is being depressed. For me boredom and depression are very separate things. For me anyway.

I read a few weeks ago that someone said their writing is like their wife. For me, writing is the cabana boy that brings me fun drinks. Not Nabokov's galley slaves either. Writing gives me great pleasure. I guess for some that would be a considered a wife. I am not clear on the concept of "wife" anyway, never have been, because mostly being called a wife by others is generally not such a creative thing, certainly not meant that way when, say, reduced to just that. Again, labels that work for others, don't for me. Labels that should open the world, and rarely do. Except by some.

And because I just saw a great PBS special first on writing, and then on musical child prodigies, I am going to go and do some writing. The clock rushes. Judith and Martha await, neither wives, but perhaps one will now be a former musical prodigy. Pretty sure Martha. The one with the updo, rather than the sharp as razor pageboy.... who's the town historian. Knows all and keeps it in neat severe packages, to be used later when needed or necessary.

Saturday, September 08, 2007

What's my name naaaame...naaaame....naaaame....

Reading Wittgenstein's Mistress by David Markson (which is totally intriguing) has reminded me of a debate I am having with myself about revealing my main character's real name. I have only used Trapper as his name, because that is what people call him, and how he refers to himself. In Wittgenstein's Mistress, the main character is telling 1st person POV her adventures. On pg 33 we learn her name (probably). Much is suspect in this novel, so who knows so far. Anyway, because I had assumed the reader wouldn't learn her name, it brought back my own internal debate about my character names.

I wonder if the writer is short changing the reader if we learn their name, or if we don't? Depending on what indicates such. I am especially sensitive this week to short changing readers (looking at you last paragraph in The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency).

Another example for me of how reading influences and directs writing.

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

Horses for Dummies

Is it sad that my lack of posting here, is motivating me to get some actual writing done? I went to the library, and finished editing what I have written, got my time line adjusted (as I had the main character be two ages at the time of the tragedy), and got some research done (title header!) so now I can move forward readjusted, and post here with news of some actual work done.

I never thought this blog place would be anything but documentations. I am somewhat surprised it has motivated me to get off my proverbial butt and work. And it isn't even November or April.

You learn something every day. If you are doing it right! Have a good one.