Tag: Writing

November Writing Goal

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Reporter working at typewriter.

I am sitting in the middle of office clutter that I wouldn’t want you to see if you happened to stop by for a cup of tea and a chat. It is not junky, but it is not as tidy as I like. Pens of all colors fill jars, a tote bag, gray scarf, cough drops, and lip balm are nearby, and a stack of papers bump against my left elbow. I am ignoring all of it—right now it is more important to write than to clean.

You might remember two years ago when I did National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo), a global event where you commit to writing 50,000 words during November. I participated, ended with more than the 50,000 words, and that stretch goal was a good exercise for me. I wrote a bit about what I learned here.

Now that book, or better said, draft, did not make it to the best seller list, but I enjoyed the journey into my characters’ lives, and it gave me the start for a different book I will complete one day. But this year I have decided to set a personal November writing goal.

It has been years since I have written a short story; I typically write nonfiction. But this month I am going to complete a short story that has been dancing around in my head for months. I will finish the first draft, and at least begin the initial round of revisions. I’m just starting out, so it is hard to say how long it will be, certainly longer than flash fiction (under 1,000 words) but no more than 8-10,000 words. I’ll let you know each Monday how I’m doing.

The office cleanup will have to wait.

 

Black Domers – selected as book club selection

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I have great news to share—Black Domers: African-American Students at Notre Dame in Their Own Words, edited by Don Wycliff and David Krashna, was selected by U.S. Catholic Magazine as its January 2019 book club selection. My essay, which describes my experience as a Notre Dame student years ago, is one of many in this anthology.  The book tells how Black students first began to attend Notre Dame, how we made it through, what challenges and opportunities we faced, and what we have to say about our time there and relationship to the University, now that there has been time to reflect. The book starts with the first Black student, Frazier Thompson (class of 1947), and continues to alumni who graduated last year. The stories begin in the 1940s and provide interesting historical context.

Writing the essay was a rewarding experience for me, because it reveals what I love best about the essay form. Not only can a good essay connect us to a more universal story, but it requires the writer to do more than recount what happened. Writing an essay requires that you try to make sense of how the event or person has shaped you, what you took away from it. I learned there is not one typical ND experience, nor did we all respond the same way when confronted with challenges. All of the stories are not upbeat, but they demonstrate the resilience of the students.

I hope you will be able to read some of the stories, and would love to hear from you if you do.

Update: Some have asked where the book can be found. It is available on Amazon and in the Notre Dame bookstore if you happen to be in South Bend, IN. Thank you for your support and interest. I also wanted to add that in lieu of any payment, the authors agreed to support an endowment for scholarships so other students can have their own ND story.

 

 

Travel, poetry, and place

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art artistic blank page book

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

It’s been a full summer and August was heavy with travel, a weekend at the Newport Jazz Festival, and a trip to Bremerton and Seattle, WA. I had not been to Rhode Island or Washington state before, so they were fun firsts. I’ll write more about Bremerton and Bainbridge in a future post.

Last week, I went to hear Tracy K. Smith, US Poet Laureate, read and give a talk at Saint Mary’s College in Notre Dame, IN. I have always been impressed by this small college, which has invited so many amazing women over the years. It was at Saint Mary’s that I first saw actress Cicely Tyson, and I can still remember her entrance on the stage, she wore winter white and was positively regal.

Ms. Smith won the Pulitzer Prize and I am a fan of her memoir Ordinary Light but have come to enjoy her poetry too. She spoke about understanding poetry, writing it, and also considers poetry a form of activism. She spoke about the “impossible resilience of black people despite attempts to annihilate us,” and many in the auditorium seemed to understand how these are challenging times. I love how poetry can convey a feeling or emotion or experience with its use of rhythm and imagery, and Smith left us feeling that poetry should not be inaccessible, it is for everyone.

I love summer but I am going to embrace the fall weather that is only a week or so away. On my nightstand is the book Poets on Place by W.T. Pfefferle, and I want to read it to learn how poetry and other writing can be used to express the heart of a place.

Until the next time…

Walking Away Money

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Several years ago, I left a job that I mostly enjoyed, planning to take a one-year sabbatical to sort out what my next move would be. I was a development officer, also known as a fundraiser, for a large midwestern university with national name recognition. I believed in the programs for which I fundraised, the visual and performing arts, scholarships, endowments, and I met amazing benefactors, many of whom I still maintain friendships with. But I knew I needed a change, wanted to explore some of the stories that I carried in my head and heart. I had been able to spend time with highly creative people—artists, musicians, sculptors, actors, and writers, while in that position. When we had time, I asked about their processes, how they studied, when they found the time to practice and create. Continue reading →

May- early mornings, writing, and ritual

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Montpelier bridge

May has been a whirl of activity but let’s start with the 30-day challenge I began in April. My goal was to wake up every day, at 5:18 am, for 30 days. I missed a couple of days, primarily because after the second weekend I asked myself, “Why are you getting up this early on the weekend?” I modified the challenge and did not set an alarm on Saturdays and Sundays; however, even without an alarm, after about four days I found myself naturally stirring around 5:15 am.

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Rising early set me up for the next goal for May. I had been accepted for the Vermont College of Fine Arts Novel Retreat, which took place May 15-21. This experience was positive and affirming for me as a writer because I was able to accomplish a few goals I established for the retreat:

  • Spend hours a day writing, starting a new (and lengthy) project that I want to write,

Continue reading →

Morning Routine

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bird at sunrise

I started a 30-day challenge to get up each morning at 5:18 a.m. Why? For the past few weeks I have felt a creeping discontent with my ability to stay on track with some of my priorities. Around three o’clock or so, I would consider my day and end up frustrated because I had not made progress in the areas I told myself were most important—writing and wellbeing. Maybe I would get a little writing done, but not enough movement, or I would be so determined to get in the Orangetheory workout that I would piddle (this means dawdle in southern Ohio speak) when I got home, never really working on the essays that swirl around in my head. Continue reading →

A Snowy Day

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A snowy day here in northern Indiana. Days like this are perfect for writing, and if it warms up, venturing outside, even if it’s only to open the front door and take it all in. Stay warm!

 

snowymorning

Retreat

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Bright Green Door

I’m back from a writing retreat, one that I scheduled and planned at a cottage near Lake Michigan. I spent the first day alone and then a friend who is also a writer joined me for the remainder; she is working on her book and an amazing project.

Writing has been hard the last few months. In August, my family learned that my mother’s illness was serious; she was very sick. Thirty days later, she passed on.

I cannot find the right words to tell you more about her at this time, other than to say I love her and I am so grateful to have been blessed with her as my mother and guide. I had no concept that grief would be so heavy, numbing, and unpredictable, but since her passing, I am learning more about the impact of loss  than I knew before, even though I have gone through other challenges. At the beginning, grief caused me to switch between two impulses—a total retreat, into myself, to deal with the hurt; and a persistent urge to open my front door, and walk and walk and walk, until I arrived…somewhere.

I felt my mother’s presence over the last few days, encouraging me, happy that I had found yet another place to visit, wanting to hear the details of how the cottage looked, how the rooms were arranged, if it was near water.

Alone at the dining room table, I began to write and feel happiness creep back into my life. I slept well, full of words and ideas for future writing. When it was time to leave and close the door to the cottage, I felt like I could walk through another door. One where I could grieve my loss and yet be happy, retreat for healing and come back renewed.

 

 

 

 

Ritual – Put the Keys in the Chrysler

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Car Keys

My father has always purchased Chryslers. I remember the green Plymouth Fury III that he drove to my friend’s house one afternoon to pick me up; it was not our first car but I loved the surprise of him showing up in a new one. Later there was a light blue gray Chrysler that he drove on his carpool days when I was in high school. For a few weeks until he got it repaired, the horn used to randomly sound off if he turned the steering wheel a certain way. The intermittent honks and beeps could have been embarrassing but I ignored my friends’ quizzical looks and acted as if it was the nervous tic of a car overly stimulated by chatty teenage girls. Continue reading →