Ah, readers, a whole month has passed--longer--since I've posted. A few people (not even my parents) told me that they have missed my blog, which made me happy, not that I've been delinquent, but that people noticed.
What to say about August? Once I get my act together I will post a video that will explain August better than my words could. So you'll have to wait on that.
What I will say is that I took two whole weeks away from the novel, which I had not done since I began working on it in earnest last April. At first it felt good. I needed a break from it. But after a week I began to really miss it. And to feel somewhat at sea. Like the one constant for the past year has been the novel, and without it I didn't quite know what to do with myself.
I cleaned out closets, I busied myself trying to sell my car (which is a great little Corolla if anyone is interested), I started looking for a day job in earnest, I caught up on food shopping, cooking, correspondence, and generally just tried to get my life in order. So now that that's accomplished, I'm trying to get back into good habits. Like working on the novel in the morning, and writing a blog posting once a week.
My writing project this week has been to print out and read the entire novel start to finish. I have of course read all of it in sections, but never all the way through. And although I've found some alarming errors, holes in plot and problems yet to be resolved, it feels like a miracle to read a book that I wrote. Little old me.
Here's hoping that someday, in the not too distant future, you, and many other people, will be reading that book too.
Look for weekly posts again, now that I'm getting back on schedule (usually Friday afternoons.)
It feels good to be back!
Friday, September 12, 2008
Friday, August 1, 2008
Yoga for the Mind
Although months can pass without me writing a poem, inevitably an image or feeling will be too much in some way, forcing me out of logical prose and into poetry.
Last week, haunted by a situation I badly mishandled, I worked on a poem I had begun about it years ago. I used to think that poems sprang to life fully formed, but now I know that a first draft is just a seed that must be tended, nourished, pruned. So I spent time editing the poem, finding solace playing with the sounds, textures, and rhythms of the words. Not only was I able to comfort myself by creating something beautiful, but also I found the poetry work primed my writing mind, allowed me to open up, relax, get warm and receptive.
I often say that writing has saved my life, and I believe that. Writing gives me a place to put stuff I can’t put anywhere else. Today, when I feel overwhelmed by sadness, anger, or grief, I use it in my writing. This might not take the feelings away, but the act of creating works some kind of transforming magic. Maybe it’s like how trash becomes compost that nourishes crops that feed us. Bad feelings, mixed with creativity become food for the soul. I don’t know how it works, I just know it does. But don’t take my word for it--find your creative outlets and use them!
Anchored
Trudging
up the hill
I saw you
ahead—
hopping
step to step
light-footed, loose.
I stopped,
trapped between
dread of your stone wall,
and my far-fetched
hope for a breach.
Upward
you skipped,
never
looking back.
The morning mist
swallowed you whole—
your name
lodged in my throat,
regret
an iron veil.
Last week, haunted by a situation I badly mishandled, I worked on a poem I had begun about it years ago. I used to think that poems sprang to life fully formed, but now I know that a first draft is just a seed that must be tended, nourished, pruned. So I spent time editing the poem, finding solace playing with the sounds, textures, and rhythms of the words. Not only was I able to comfort myself by creating something beautiful, but also I found the poetry work primed my writing mind, allowed me to open up, relax, get warm and receptive.
I often say that writing has saved my life, and I believe that. Writing gives me a place to put stuff I can’t put anywhere else. Today, when I feel overwhelmed by sadness, anger, or grief, I use it in my writing. This might not take the feelings away, but the act of creating works some kind of transforming magic. Maybe it’s like how trash becomes compost that nourishes crops that feed us. Bad feelings, mixed with creativity become food for the soul. I don’t know how it works, I just know it does. But don’t take my word for it--find your creative outlets and use them!
Anchored
Trudging
up the hill
I saw you
ahead—
hopping
step to step
light-footed, loose.
I stopped,
trapped between
dread of your stone wall,
and my far-fetched
hope for a breach.
Upward
you skipped,
never
looking back.
The morning mist
swallowed you whole—
your name
lodged in my throat,
regret
an iron veil.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Routine and Change
It's good to be home. I've been away for most of the past month, and am actually leaving again tonight for a few days. I think this is how the summer will be. And though I am grateful to spend so much time at the shore, the disruption of my routine has made it hard to work over the past month. I've been working on the book, but not as hard and not as productively as I do when I'm at home, in my routine.
But this week at home has been the most productive week I've had in a very long time. When I mentioned this to a friend of mine she said that maybe I needed to shake up my routine for it to regain its power. It hadn't occurred to me that my super-productive week could be a result of the disruption of my routine, but maybe she's right. Maybe like moving 81 things in my house, physically taking myself to different places, seeing different faces, and creating new structures brought fresh energy to my old routine, reinvigorating it. I like the idea that surfing, playing tennis, hanging out with my husband, with old friends and family actually helped my work.
I certainly have renewed enthusiasm this week. Maybe routine and change are yin and yang of each other. I need routine and structure, but after a few months of the same thing, I had lost some enthusiasm for the book. Now, having moved around so much, struggled to get into a routine and get to work, the passion is back. I couldn't wait to get back to my humdrum routine, to my comfortable and inspiring office, to my house and my friends and my kitchen.
One of the best changes of the past month has been my progress in surfing. I'm actually standing on the board and staying up there! Amazing. My ability to learn how to surf after the age of 30 makes me think I can do anything. Like, I don't know, finish a novel?
But this week at home has been the most productive week I've had in a very long time. When I mentioned this to a friend of mine she said that maybe I needed to shake up my routine for it to regain its power. It hadn't occurred to me that my super-productive week could be a result of the disruption of my routine, but maybe she's right. Maybe like moving 81 things in my house, physically taking myself to different places, seeing different faces, and creating new structures brought fresh energy to my old routine, reinvigorating it. I like the idea that surfing, playing tennis, hanging out with my husband, with old friends and family actually helped my work.
I certainly have renewed enthusiasm this week. Maybe routine and change are yin and yang of each other. I need routine and structure, but after a few months of the same thing, I had lost some enthusiasm for the book. Now, having moved around so much, struggled to get into a routine and get to work, the passion is back. I couldn't wait to get back to my humdrum routine, to my comfortable and inspiring office, to my house and my friends and my kitchen.
One of the best changes of the past month has been my progress in surfing. I'm actually standing on the board and staying up there! Amazing. My ability to learn how to surf after the age of 30 makes me think I can do anything. Like, I don't know, finish a novel?
Friday, July 4, 2008
Showing Up
I feel proud of myself this week for showing up for my life. To me, showing up means living in the moment, seizing opportunities as they arise, using my talents, remembering my values and priorities and making choices based on them. How to show up differs day to day and moment to moment.
This week, showing up meant capitalizing on a few precious days to work at home before we leave town for another two weeks. It meant pulling out and piecing together the thoughts my subconscious had worked out about the book while I was taking a break last week. It meant looking at the overall structure of the novel, and using my new understanding of my protagonist to make sure her behavior is consistent with her personality. It meant using my enthusiasm for editing while it lasts.
It also meant physically showing up in Ocean City to see my grandmom. It meant ignoring my internal critic screaming that I’d never finish the book (he’s such a drama queen), having pizza with my clan, riding the ferris wheel, stealing a few minutes alone with Grandmom, passing an hour sitting on the porch.
On Wednesday, showing up meant ditching my work for a few hours to surf while the surfing was good. It meant staying in the ocean, in spite of getting smacked in the face with a wall of seawater by the first wave I tried to catch. It meant paddling out again and again in spite of my bruised pride (and body) that wanted to give up. It meant staying aware and open so I could learn the lessons that came, see my growing comfort on the board, feel my growing understanding of the ocean.
The amazing thing about showing up is how much more joy I feel, and how much less worry. Concentrating on whatever I’m doing or feeling in the moment blocks out obsessing about past or future. None of us knows how many more days we have but we do know that we will never have this day, today, again. So shouldn’t we all try to show up for whatever days we have?
Thank you to everyone who read the review of my blog on Philadelphia Stories and posted comments, and the many kind emails and postings you’ve been sending me recently. Your support is a huge reason why I’m able to show up!
This week, showing up meant capitalizing on a few precious days to work at home before we leave town for another two weeks. It meant pulling out and piecing together the thoughts my subconscious had worked out about the book while I was taking a break last week. It meant looking at the overall structure of the novel, and using my new understanding of my protagonist to make sure her behavior is consistent with her personality. It meant using my enthusiasm for editing while it lasts.
It also meant physically showing up in Ocean City to see my grandmom. It meant ignoring my internal critic screaming that I’d never finish the book (he’s such a drama queen), having pizza with my clan, riding the ferris wheel, stealing a few minutes alone with Grandmom, passing an hour sitting on the porch.
On Wednesday, showing up meant ditching my work for a few hours to surf while the surfing was good. It meant staying in the ocean, in spite of getting smacked in the face with a wall of seawater by the first wave I tried to catch. It meant paddling out again and again in spite of my bruised pride (and body) that wanted to give up. It meant staying aware and open so I could learn the lessons that came, see my growing comfort on the board, feel my growing understanding of the ocean.
The amazing thing about showing up is how much more joy I feel, and how much less worry. Concentrating on whatever I’m doing or feeling in the moment blocks out obsessing about past or future. None of us knows how many more days we have but we do know that we will never have this day, today, again. So shouldn’t we all try to show up for whatever days we have?
Thank you to everyone who read the review of my blog on Philadelphia Stories and posted comments, and the many kind emails and postings you’ve been sending me recently. Your support is a huge reason why I’m able to show up!
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Careful What You Wish For...
You just may get it. My last entry about shaking things up has me feeling a bit chagrined, as I now long for my lost routine. On Saturday one of my dearest friends got married (congratulations Kara and Mark!) As maid of honor, I spent lots of my time and energy last week preparing for and participating in the festivities, which were gorgeous, filled with love, joy, dancing, and even Irish singing.
My routine continued to be subjugated by a trip to the shore on Sunday, to celebrate the end of the school year for Carl. I intended to work while we were there, but alas, I left all of my book materials at home in Narberth. Rather than cut short our time or drive home, I decided to take a few days off from writing and editing, but was able to do some research. And now, having just got home from the shore, I'm preparing to leave again tomorrow for another short trip, this time to Williamsburg.
All good things, these diversions. The question is, how strict can or should I be with myself? Structure helps me, so on Friday I made a schedule for the summer, assigning days off and working days and setting daily work goals. Then, having left my computer at home, was unable to meet my work goal for the first three work days on the schedule, which has my inner critic up in arms. Critic: how are you ever going to finish the book if you spend your days surfing, lying on the beach, and reading? Me: I'm taking care of myself, I'm resting, I'm researching. Critic: Whatever.
What to do? Forcing myself to write doesn't work well. I know this. And although I mourn the lost writing days, I believe I needed a break, and it was good for me, and will therefore benefit my work. So maybe I need to stay a little flexible with the structure and goals. If I can set aside my morning hours for writing, wherever I am, I should be able to meet my daily goals. And if I take advantage of days when the work is going well(ie exceed my goals), I'll be able to make up for a day here or there when I've decided to play hooky at the beach.
As long as I'm doing things that are nurturing, like surfing, or reading good writing, or exploring a seashell museum, or celebrating a rite of passage with a dear friend, I think taking a break is just fine. Necessary even. But I am looking forward to getting back to my routine for a few days next week, before leaving for yet another trip to Lake Ontario.
On another note, my blog had its first review! Check it out at the website for Philadelphia Stories! Yay press coverage!
My routine continued to be subjugated by a trip to the shore on Sunday, to celebrate the end of the school year for Carl. I intended to work while we were there, but alas, I left all of my book materials at home in Narberth. Rather than cut short our time or drive home, I decided to take a few days off from writing and editing, but was able to do some research. And now, having just got home from the shore, I'm preparing to leave again tomorrow for another short trip, this time to Williamsburg.
All good things, these diversions. The question is, how strict can or should I be with myself? Structure helps me, so on Friday I made a schedule for the summer, assigning days off and working days and setting daily work goals. Then, having left my computer at home, was unable to meet my work goal for the first three work days on the schedule, which has my inner critic up in arms. Critic: how are you ever going to finish the book if you spend your days surfing, lying on the beach, and reading? Me: I'm taking care of myself, I'm resting, I'm researching. Critic: Whatever.
What to do? Forcing myself to write doesn't work well. I know this. And although I mourn the lost writing days, I believe I needed a break, and it was good for me, and will therefore benefit my work. So maybe I need to stay a little flexible with the structure and goals. If I can set aside my morning hours for writing, wherever I am, I should be able to meet my daily goals. And if I take advantage of days when the work is going well(ie exceed my goals), I'll be able to make up for a day here or there when I've decided to play hooky at the beach.
As long as I'm doing things that are nurturing, like surfing, or reading good writing, or exploring a seashell museum, or celebrating a rite of passage with a dear friend, I think taking a break is just fine. Necessary even. But I am looking forward to getting back to my routine for a few days next week, before leaving for yet another trip to Lake Ontario.
On another note, my blog had its first review! Check it out at the website for Philadelphia Stories! Yay press coverage!
Monday, June 16, 2008
Shaking Things Up
Last week, as my 32nd birthday approached I was feeling a little down. My annual tradition of gathering friends for a night of dancing was supplanted this year by a visit to the Barnes Museum and brunch at Blush, both lovingly arranged by my husband. And although I looked forward to these activities, as the day approached, I couldn't help but feel sad remembering the days in our early twenties, when staying up until 4 am and dancing into the wee hours was a regular activity, not just reserved for special occasions. I realized the last time I had tried to go dancing was November, and only two other people wanted to go. Something had shifted without me quite noticing. What was it?
Well, for one thing, although I love to dance, I no longer love staying up past midnight. Sad but true. Now my drinking is limited to a glass or two of good wine. My friends and I are older, most of us married, some with kids, many living in the 'burbs, where a night in the city is more than just a walk or a cab ride away. I guess many things have shifted.
Faced with this reality, I needed an alternate, something I could do to scratch my dancing itch. And so, I worked up my courage, and went to the hip-hop dance class at the Koresh Dance Studio that I'd been longing to try for years. Fear of looking or feeling stupid had kept me from going to the class, but last week, my need to do something new involving dancing won out. So on Friday I found myself in a questionable outfit, in the dance studio on Chestnut St., dancing hip-hop, or my version of it, having the most fun I'd had in a long time. As I walked out of the studio I realized that I was now one of those dancers I had envied for so long, and all it took was a little planning, some courage, and a crisis about my birthday.
Also this week I began a program in which I move nine things in my home each day for nine days, to get stagnant energy moving again. I love this idea because it is so manageable, and yet, after three days, has created some lovely changes in my home, including the long long-overdue unpacking of my wedding china. (Maybe it will all be unpacked by our fifth wedding anniversary!)
Trying new things and rearranging old things has brought some great changes in the past few days. In my 33rd year I plan to continue to shake things up, because as scary and uncomfortable as change is for me, so much good comes from it--new friends, new activities, new sources of joy and pleasure.
Now I'm off to unpack more china and practice my dance moves, but not at the same time of course.
Well, for one thing, although I love to dance, I no longer love staying up past midnight. Sad but true. Now my drinking is limited to a glass or two of good wine. My friends and I are older, most of us married, some with kids, many living in the 'burbs, where a night in the city is more than just a walk or a cab ride away. I guess many things have shifted.
Faced with this reality, I needed an alternate, something I could do to scratch my dancing itch. And so, I worked up my courage, and went to the hip-hop dance class at the Koresh Dance Studio that I'd been longing to try for years. Fear of looking or feeling stupid had kept me from going to the class, but last week, my need to do something new involving dancing won out. So on Friday I found myself in a questionable outfit, in the dance studio on Chestnut St., dancing hip-hop, or my version of it, having the most fun I'd had in a long time. As I walked out of the studio I realized that I was now one of those dancers I had envied for so long, and all it took was a little planning, some courage, and a crisis about my birthday.
Also this week I began a program in which I move nine things in my home each day for nine days, to get stagnant energy moving again. I love this idea because it is so manageable, and yet, after three days, has created some lovely changes in my home, including the long long-overdue unpacking of my wedding china. (Maybe it will all be unpacked by our fifth wedding anniversary!)
Trying new things and rearranging old things has brought some great changes in the past few days. In my 33rd year I plan to continue to shake things up, because as scary and uncomfortable as change is for me, so much good comes from it--new friends, new activities, new sources of joy and pleasure.
Now I'm off to unpack more china and practice my dance moves, but not at the same time of course.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Reunited and It Feels So Good
The romance is back -- for me and my novel. After some rough times, we’re honeymooning again. I’ve been working away, happily lost in the world I’m creating, hardly noticing my fingers as they type. I leave the computer with reluctance, long to return to it when I’m away.
This is not always the case. Some days, I’ll do anything to avoid the computer. Suddenly I have to clean the blinds, hang a shower curtain, prepare a three course dinner. If I drag myself to the computer, I may produce something, but it’s a painful process, and usually not very fruitful.
Now if I could just figure out what makes the difference between a happy writing day and a forced one. For the past week I’ve been experimenting with quitting while I’m ahead. I committed to a manageable goal, 1,000 words written or edited a day, and once I have met that goal, have let myself quit for the day. My inner critic protested of course. “But you only wrote 1,000 words! What about editing? What about research? What about finishing by September 1? The book will never get done at this pace.” I told her to shut up and wait for the results.
After a week I’ve found that if I stop when I still have creative energy left, I am happier for the rest of the day, and anxious to return to work the next morning. I’m left wanting more.
So now I’m thinking that maybe I need to monitor my creative energy the way I do my physical energy. Over the past year I’ve learned how to eat to keep my blood sugar levels steady. I notice when it’s getting too low, and generally prevent that from happening. If I can learn to notice my creative energy levels, recharge preventatively, and quit before I’m dangerously depleted, I hope to have a steady supply available for the book and other ventures.
I guess I’ve done a good job this week, because I’m already planning a tryst with my book some time this weekend.
Shout out to my parents who celebrate their 38th wedding anniversary today! They are an inspiration in keeping the romance alive!
This is not always the case. Some days, I’ll do anything to avoid the computer. Suddenly I have to clean the blinds, hang a shower curtain, prepare a three course dinner. If I drag myself to the computer, I may produce something, but it’s a painful process, and usually not very fruitful.
Now if I could just figure out what makes the difference between a happy writing day and a forced one. For the past week I’ve been experimenting with quitting while I’m ahead. I committed to a manageable goal, 1,000 words written or edited a day, and once I have met that goal, have let myself quit for the day. My inner critic protested of course. “But you only wrote 1,000 words! What about editing? What about research? What about finishing by September 1? The book will never get done at this pace.” I told her to shut up and wait for the results.
After a week I’ve found that if I stop when I still have creative energy left, I am happier for the rest of the day, and anxious to return to work the next morning. I’m left wanting more.
So now I’m thinking that maybe I need to monitor my creative energy the way I do my physical energy. Over the past year I’ve learned how to eat to keep my blood sugar levels steady. I notice when it’s getting too low, and generally prevent that from happening. If I can learn to notice my creative energy levels, recharge preventatively, and quit before I’m dangerously depleted, I hope to have a steady supply available for the book and other ventures.
I guess I’ve done a good job this week, because I’m already planning a tryst with my book some time this weekend.
Shout out to my parents who celebrate their 38th wedding anniversary today! They are an inspiration in keeping the romance alive!
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