Five...uh, I Mean, Six Reasons I'm a Strong writer

I forgot I got tagged for this meme, so here goes:

5 Reasons I'm a Strong Writer:
1. I've taught myself without the benefit of a MFA or even a Bachelors. I discovered I wanted to write after I went to art school so I'm doing it the old fashioned way- lots of writing and lots of reading. I go to conferences, classes, and am in a writing group. I feel like I have to really want it and really work for it at this stage in my life without the luxury of three years of uninterrupted time to focus on the craft. Instead I've always had to fit it into my real life which is what all writers need to do eventually.

2. I work on my stories. It's not uncommon for me to revise a story ten times before submitting the "first" draft to my writing group. I've revised stories twenty to twenty-five times before submitting them to journals. I'll play with structure. Try new beginnings. Different POV. I'm not afraid to completely tear a story apart and put it back together.

3. I keep my options open with regards to projects. I have several going at any given time at various stages. When I need a break from one I can hop onto another.

4. I'm willing, even eager, to be surprised by my writing. I use writing practice to let my mind wander into the depths of the story or character. I'm willing to fill pages and pages with scenes that spill from me during a session but don't feel compelled to shoe horn them into the story just because I wrote it.

5. I love stories. I love reading stories and always have. I read for pleasure, I read to learn. I read in amazement and am thrilled when I come across a book or sentence that I feel is brilliant. I am not intimidated, instead I am inspired. I read with a pen in my head to mark sentences that move me. I read with a pen in hand to dissect a story to learn the craft of writing. I read to lose myself and on my ideal days I lose myself in my own writing.

6. And one more... I almost wrote I am not afraid of what I may discover about myself when I write. That's not true. I am afraid at times, but I do it anyway. I show up anyway and that's what courage is, showing up in spite of the fear.

And there you have thirty straight days of posts from me. I'm impressed...

A Few of My Favorite things

It seems like I hear this song a dozen times a day so I may as well use it to inspire a post here.

These are a few of my favorite things:
- reading in bed after I wake up in the morning
- clean, crisp sheets
- bare trees etched against a blue sky
- the smell of coffee (but I don't like the taste)
- A soy chai and pumpkin scone from Starbucks
- watching my cats play
- decorating the house for Christmas
- taking the decorations down
- unexpectedly finding new books that I want to read at the library
- sunflowers
- finding the perfect word, verb, phrase, metaphor in my writing
- a good glass of red wine
- discovering a new writer
- the smell of brownies or chocolate chip cookies
- staring at a campfire
- browsing an independent bookstore. this is still my favorite.

Amused by the Muses

Our icicle Christmas lights are lit and dangling from the eaves outside my window. They've been up for over a week but we didn't turn them on until tonight. I really need one holiday to be over before I start with the next one.

Here is a website I enjoy. Her book "The Nine Modern Day Muses" never fails to inspire me. Actually I love anything to do with the Muses whether it's a "Charmed" episode or the movie with Sharon Stone or fables, stories and collages. I bought nine small canvases at one point and started collecting Muse ephemera to create a series of collages devoted to them. I can put that on my project list for next year. Instead of resolutions that always sound so, well, resolute, maybe I'll make a list of creative endeavors for the coming year. That sounds fun. In fact, if it isn't fun it can't go on my list. Look for this list in an upcoming post.

My Own Personal Bookstore

I had a coupon for 40% off a book today so, of course, I had to use it. But as I browsed the shelves, for once I didn't feel an urgent need to buy a book. Not one for me anyway. I thought of all the books I have at home and it is seriously like browsing through a bookstore around here. Any book mood I may be in is more than likely covered: novel, short story, memoir, classic, essays, science/physics. All right here within the walls of my own home.

I ended up using the coupon to buy a Christmas present for my godson. I mean 40% off- you gotta use it one way or another.

Reading with Pen in Hand

Outside my window fat flakes of snow are falling. It looks like a snow globe out there.

I finished "The Best Place to Be" by Lesley Dormen. It is a novel-in-stories. I didn't realize it but I had read several of the stories already. I guess in literary journals or on-line perhaps. Anyway, the stories are strong, honest, funny, bitter. There were some lines that just made me gasp at the raw honesty exposed. It gave me some ideas about my own novel-in-stories. Mine spans a wider range of years and I've been writing it chronologically. But hers is not set up that way which is interesting and yet you still get the full arc of Grace's life. Each story kind of bleeds into the next. And each one echoes a previous story although not necessarily the one right before it. This is one I'll be reading again with a pen in hand this time.

A Gentle Meandering

I'm finding myself browsing through books I've read before on creativity. On writing. On inspiration. Motivation. Between the short days and early darkness and the holidays I find myself sinking into a kind of creative lethargy. It's okay for now. All cycles need waxing and waning. Ups and downs. Usually the ups and downs feel like a rollercoaster and I am just holding on for dear life. But it feels different now. Less frantic. More a gentle meandering through my creative process. I had planned on working on the collage for our Christmas cards this year but the day kind of slipped away from me with long phone calls with family and friends. Then some shopping. Then groceries. Then the girls and I settled in and watched a couple of sappy Christmas movies on ABC Family and that's okay. It's been a lovely day. For once I am not beating myself up over not doing what I had planned on doing. There's time. As much as these short days like us to think otherwise, there is time.

A Bit of Inspiration

Here are some of my favorite, inspiring quotes on writing and the creative process:

"The universe is made up of stories, not atoms." - Muriel Rukeyser

"Artistic growth is more than it is anything else, a refining of the sense of truthfulness. The stupid believe that to be truthful is easy; only the artist, the great artist, knows how difficult it is." - Willa Cather

"I suppose I have written novels to find out what I thought about something, and poems to find out what I felt about something." - May Sarton

"To express the emotions of life is to live. To express the life of emotions is to make art." - Jane Heap

"You don not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. Do not even listen, simply wait, be quite still and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked, it has no choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet." - Franz Kafka

Observe Instead of Retreat

I am sitting in my office and it is 4:54. The light is quickly fading. Long inky clouds stretch across the horizon, halos of peach feathering at the edges. It feels like I can see the sun setting before me eyes. Why am I always surprised when the days get shorter and shorter and darker and darker? It's not like it's a new phenomenon. It happens every winter and yet I am still amazed when I am sitting in complete darkness at 5:30. The trick now is to use these dark, short days to fuel my creativity in a new direction instead of letting it hibernate for the winter.

I find myself restless in the evenings. I feel like I should be in bed when it is only 7:30 at night. Instead of retreating this seems like a great opportunity to just observe my process and how it relates to nature and the seasons and the light and the dark.

Nina Bagley reflects on how the seasons effect her creative process here.

And the Next Book Is...

So I settled on "The Best Place To Be" by Lesley Dormen. I think I first read her in "The Atlantic Monthly" and now she has this collection of linked stories out. It's about a woman at all the different stages of her life which is similar to the project I am working on that I recently put on hold. It will be good to read it while I am not actively working on my own novel-in-stories.

The Thanksgiving feast has been eaten, the dishes done, dessert still to come, the sun has set and there is a dusting of snow, just enough to make it all pretty but blades of grass still poke through. What's not to be thankful for?

Book After Book

I finished "The Kite Runner" today. It really was hard to put down. I loved getting a glimpse into a totally different culture, especially one that we are so at odds with. The story reveals the beauty and flaws that are inherent in being human, regardless of where we live, whom we pray to or don't. A couple of parts seemed a little convenient to the plot but mostly I got lost in the story, in the characters, the settings and in the sentences.

Now it's time to pick a new book to (hopefully) get lost in. I have a few in mind. I need to browse the first few pages and see which one grabs me.

Today I...

Read:
1. "The Kite Runner" - more than half way through. It's hard to put down.
2. The second chapter of my novel.

Wrote:
1. morning pages
2. a freewrite which may end up in my novel
3. in my writing process journal
4. a writing practice that will more than likely end up being a scene in my novel

Back in the Submitting Game

Now I remember why I stopped sending stories out. You know, besides staggering under the barrage of constant rejection. It is so time consuming. There are five 9" x 12" envelopes sitting on my desk, addressed to the editors of some very prestigious journals (may as well aim high). I've easily put in seven hours to get to this point and they aren't even mailed yet. But really, seven hours. Between researching which journals are accepting stories at this time and making sure I am within their word count and writing the cover letters and addressing envelopes and getting the stories copied. Well, yes, seven hours sounds about right. And I even had my daughter re-type my cover letters after they sat on my desk and their dates were almost a month earlier than the post date would be and we can't have these editors thinking that I am a procrastinator or anything and then I couldn't find the letters on the computer. I didn't save them? Seriously? So my daughter typed them in and I can imagine a time when I will happily surrender to the services of an assistant of some kind who will handle all this business side of the craft.

Where I Create

Where I write...


Where I design...

Where I collage...

A Change of Scenery

I've changed projects. The story I meant to have ready for workshop this Sunday just didn't come together. At all. In fact, I'm not even sure there is a story in there. At all. So I began digging through all the binders and folders in my closet and came across the novel I wrote in thirty days last September. I read the first chapter and I fell in love with the characters all over again. I felt that if I browsed that chapter on-line or in a bookstore I would want to buy the book. And isn't that the kind of book I should write? The kind I want to read?

I'm feeling some guilt over letting my other project go for a while. Especially since my writing goals for the year revolved around this novel-in-stories, revising each one month by month until I had a finished draft ready to submit to an agent by the end of the year. Well. It is almost the end of the year. I've made a lot of progress but it is not done. And I felt totally stuck. So I am giving myself some space. That's always a hard call. Is this the time I should dig in and just write it through no matter what? Am I just being lazy? Afraid? Or am I intuiting the need for some distance from this project? Distance that will hopefully provide some much needed perspective. I'm going to give myself the benefit of the doubt- for once- and go with the latter.

It's kind of like a clean break-up. We can still be friends. We still are friends. I just need to widen my circle a bit. For now.

Writing Sparks

If you're ever looking for something to spark your writing day or character or story you might want to check out these two websites:

www.postsecret.blogspot.com

www.foundmagazine.com

They are also available as books.

No Flinching Zone

The "no flinching zone"- that is where Miranda July creates. I finished her book of short stories last night and will need to read them again in the future. She has this way of looking at her characters in all their beautiful flaws and not judging them. She lets them run around her stories emotionally naked, these complex mixtures of memories and thoughts, flesh and bones. Some moments are disturbing and you read it like you're watching a train wreck, not quite able to look away. But she stays in that moment, and writes her way through it, without flinching.

Then this morning I watched the movie that she starred in, directed and wrote. Yes. She's amazing. The movie was just like her stories. These complex characters bumping into each other emotionally and physically. Some of the lines are laugh out loud funny. A guy just gave his neighbor the family discount on shoes. He says he's working on his karma. "You know what karma is don't you? It means she owes me now." Just as in the book, some moments were just so uncomfortable so I did the movie equivalent of skimming- I fast-forwarded through a couple of scenes.

Besides being a writer (of books and movies), director and actor she is also a performance artist. I am in awe of her creativity. It seems to spill out of her. And she just lets it spill, without ever flinching.

To Buy Books or Not to Buy Books

I really am making a conscious effort not to buy books. Well, not many books. Not as many as I usually do. Mostly I am not buying fiction. But I did buy some design and creativity books tonight:

1. "Design Basics" by Jim Krause
2. "Creative Sparks" by Jim Krause (whoa- I just realized they are both by the same guy.)
3. "Thinking Creatively- New Ways to Unlock your Visual Imagination" by Robin Landa

Upcoming Projects

Things to Create
1. First draft of story for Sunday
2. Collage for Christmas cards
3. A low stress, fun holiday
4. A mixed media piece on the old screen door I bought in Arizona
5. A series of mini collages of the nine Muses
6. More visual journaling in my journal
7. A deck of cards with visual and written prompts for creative writing
8. A box for the family to put in what we're thankful for, what we wish for and what our goals are for the coming year
9. A book of collage and stories I wrote that are like modern fairy tales for my daughters
10. A website

Learning the Craft

Here's a writing practice I did last year but it feels relevant even now.

Writing classes are a way to learn craft. At first I agreed with this. It seems obvious. You take a fiction class and learn the craft. But really it isn't the class that teaches you craft or even the teacher. It is through writing story after story that you learn craft. A class may set up the right parameters for you to produce these stories but you teach yourself craft through each finished story.

Ron Carlson says that your first twenty stories are your apprenticeship. I think he even added your first twenty stories that aren't written for a class. Stories that you write on your own because you need to, not because a teacher is expecting it from you. That is one of the hardest things to learn. Nobody really cares if I write another word ever again. Oh, maybe my best friend who dreams of going on a book tour with me as my manager. But really, nobody really cares. So I have to care. I have to care enough to write a story for myself. not for a teacher. Not for a class. Not for a grade but because I can't not write this story. Then I need to do it again. And again.

Classes are good for company. For companionship on this lonely road we've chosen. But you don't need them to teach you craft. I've often toyed with the idea of entering a low residency MFA program. But I need to use that money for my daughters' college, not for me. And I don't need a degree to write. I don't need a group of twenty somethings picking apart my work until it becomes a bland piece of tofu mfa workshopped story. That's harsh. Not all mfa programs do that. But that is the downside. That is the risk.

All I need to learn the craft of writing is to write and all of the teachers I need are on my bookshelves and the shelves of libraries and bookstores. Writing and reading. Reading and writing. That's the master class we all need. Even an mfa program ends eventually and then you are out there, all alone, once again nobody caring if you write another word and it's all up to you. You do it because you have to. I do it because I have to. I try to do it everyday. It's easier to keep a rocket up in space than it is to relaunch it over and over again. Too much wasted energy. And not only do I have to write but I have to finish what I write. Finish what I start. A bunch of half-assed, half- finished stories won't teach me much of anything. I need to see the completed arc of the story. Or see that there is no arc to my story. I need to write it through to the end to see what I have. To learn what I don't have. To learn what I need. To learn the craft.

Cleansing the (Book) Palate

I just finished reading "Love in the Time of Cholera", not because it is an Oprah pick since I have had the book on my shelf for many years, but because I want to read the book before I see the movie that comes out this week. I woke up at 9:30 this morning and did one of my favorite things- rolled over and grabbed my glasses, snuggled back under the covers and read for an hour.

Now the last book I read was "The Big Girls" by Susanna Moore. These two books could not be more opposite. THB is set in modern time at a woman's prison in Mew Jersey close to Manahattan and in Hollywood. It covers perhaps the span of a year or so. It is written without chapters, just space breaks. Each space break marks the beginning of new voice narrating his or her story. The prose is bare bones. Brittle but full of life.

LITTOC is set in the Caribbean in the nineteenth century. The book is broken into extremely long chapters and covers over fifty years. The language is lush and told from an omniscient narrator. It was interesting to see how he moved between characters and how he manipulated time. You had to read closely for fear of losing the thread of character and/or time. Even the covers couldn't be more different. TBG is black and white, mirror images of a photo of a key, sans serif type. LITTOC, on the copy I have, is a painting of a nude woman reclined on purple divan, flowers covering her in strategic places, lush foliage surrounding her, warm, bright colors, serif type.

"The Kite Runner" is next on my list but I find I can't rush into another novel. So I am reading "No One Belongs Here More than You" by Miranda July and will watch her movie this weekend. Again, the voice and tone is so opposite of LITTOC, it is like cleansing my palate between books.

Tuned In

So I woke up this morning after five hours of sleep (I'm a eight-nine hours a night gal) with the first sentence of this story in my head. This story that I have been stuck on. So I lay there thinking I've only had five hours of sleep. I need to go back to sleep. But once I got the first sentence then came the first paragraph. Well. I can't just ignore this little gift, can I? So I hauled myself out of bed, down to my computer and wrote for an hour. Yay me!

I'm not the kind of person who needs the ultimate perfect first sentence before I can proceed with a piece. But I do need a first sentence that propels me into the voice, character and story. I now have that. Before she was in a grocery store and had to get to the airport. Most of the current story takes place at the airport bar so I just plopped her right at the airport bar, right off the bat.

This creativity buzz I have going on must be a direct result of blogging everyday this month. Whatever you turn your attention to, increases. I have tuned into my creative process and it is rewarding me with this renewed energy and focus.

Oh, and I did crawl back into bed and sleep for another two hours this morning. Now I get to go watch my daughter shop with all her birthday money and gift cards.

Creative Homework

First things First
Happy Birthday to my daughter. She is fourteen today. As I type this ten girls are down in the basement singing "Breakaway" on the Play Station version of American Idol. She made a nine layer, three tier cake- all by herself, covered in fondant. It's a work of art. One of her friends commented that it looks like it belongs in a Dr. Seuss book- it's fun and whimsical, just like Katie.

And here's the card I made her...



Something in the Air
There's this creative energy pulsing all around me today. Everywhere I turn there's something I see or read that sparks something in me. I read the latest issue of "Somerset Studio." I love getting a peek into the creative process of all artists, not just writers. Sometimes especially not writers since it gives me a glimpse into a way of seeing that I don't normally get. The featured artist taught herself to draw the human figure by taking life drawing classes. She now draws on her own everyday from a pile of magazines, giving herself 6o seconds each to draw all the figures in each issue. I loved doing those kinds of gesture drawings in art school. I loved the looseness. How you weren't expected to create a photo image likeness- just the gesture of the pose. I think of writing practice like that. I choose a topic and write on it for three pages. No wrong way to do it. Just a way to see how my mind works. See the gesture of my mind in a particular moment.

I'm so impressed by her dedication. She is anxious to get to her studio. She tries to carve out two 12 hour days a week. She is in love with the process. I think I have lost that feeling lately. I've been so focused on showing up to my story and writing something, anything, just to keep the thread of it going but is merely showing up enough? I thought it was. Maybe it was enough at some point but not any longer. Now I am longing for something more intimate than just putting in my time. I need to find some practices that make me yearn to get to my studio or desk. I need to make it fun again.

I am reading to the latest issue of "O" and found this website by Miranda July (I also rented her movie tonight before I found this website- it must be a Miranda July weekend- I can read her book of stories that I bought earlier in the summer too). It's filled with creative assignments like draw Raymond Carver's cathedral or photograph a scar and write about it or spend time with a dying person. I love the idea of creative assignments. I once created a calendar that was filled with them based on different themes for each month. I need to make a list of creative homework again- not just for writing. That will be a post for this month. Stay tuned...

When I heard Janet Fitch read in Ann Arbor a couple of weeks ago she told us of a rejection she received that said something like "good enough story but what's unique about your sentences?" This sent her into a fierce study of poetry and of loving language. I went through a period of reading a poem a day out loud and I think that is something I need to get back to. Here is one by Mary Oliver:

A Dream of Trees

There is a thing in me that dreamed of trees,
A quiet house, some green and modest acres
A little way from every troubling town,
A little way from factories, schools, laments.
I would have time, I thought, and time to spare,
With only streams and birds for company.
To build out of my life a few wild stanzas.
And then it came to me, that so was death,
A little way away from everywhere.

There is a thing in me still dreams of trees,
But let it go. Homesick for moderation,
Half the world’s artists shrink or fall away.
If any find solution, let him tell it.
Meanwhile I bend my heart toward lamentation
Where, as the times implore our true involvement,
The blades of every crisis point the way.

I would it were not so, but so it is.
Who ever made music of a mild day?

Mary Oliver

A Day

My Day
1. Car sputtered backing out of driveway. Check engine light came on.
2. It never went off.
3. Took husband in for a medical procedure.
4. Sat in waiting room, well, waiting for it to be over.
5. Incredibly grateful that it was just a routine procedure and he is fine.
6. Shopped for daughter's fourteenth birthday.
7. Preparing for sleepover tomorrow night hosting ten teenagers and two tweens.
8. Bought the latest issue of "Somerset Studio." Can't wait to get in my jammies and let all that creativity wash over me...while I watch Grey's Anatomy. (Unless it's pre-empted by the writer's strike. Go writers!!)
9. Remembered I had to blog today since I signed up to post everyday this month.
10. So here's my post.

Wa-a-a-ay too Tired to Blog

Who: Me as as overnight chaperon
Where: 5th grade camp
What: 3 hours of sleep at the most

Need I say more?

I will.

Tomorrow.

A Creative Jolt

I'm off to chaperon fifth grade camp overnight in a few hours so here's a quick post.

A few books that never fail to inspire me:

- Anything by Sark
- The Creative Habit by Twyla Tharp
- Spilling Open and anything else by Sabrina Ward Harrison
- If you Want to Write by Brenda Ueland
- The 12 Secrets of Highly Creative Women: A Portable Mentor by Gail McMeekin
- Artist's Journals and Sketchbooks by Lynn Perella

No Wrong Way to Do It

Graphic Design
I didn't realize how much I missed doing graphic design until I got some freelance work again. I am having so much fun. I even splurged on a bunch of new software so that I can finally learn web design. I've been wanting to create a website for my writing, collage/mixed media and graphic design for a couple of years now. This blog was going to serve as a temporary base for all of that. Right now I'm visiting lots of websites to get an idea of what I like and what really annoys me as I navigate my way through all of them. It's all quite exciting.

Writing
I procrastinated with the best of them this morning but I finally managed to sit down and get 551 words written on the next story that I promised to have ready for workshop in two weeks.It will be the proverbial shitty first draft as Anne Lamott says but at least it's something. I can revise something. I can't revise a blank sheet of paper. This stage should be freeing. There's no wrong way to do it. I have half a notebook filled with bits and pieces of scenes and dialogue and description. Now it's time to pour it into some kind of structure. Just do it already.

Books and Movies, Movies and Books

I love books. Seriously. It might even bypass love and venture into stalker territory. I've always loved to read. All of my report cards state something to that effect- that I am always reading, always have my nose in a book.And now that I am a writer too, I read in an almost cannibal like way- digesting everything about a story that I like, everything that I am trying to learn.

I also love movies. I go to the movies during the day by myself. The first movie I went to alone was "Pretty in Pink" at a theater on Chestnut Street in Philadelphia that is now in ruins. I had been out late with friends and was walking to the train station to head back home but the thought of getting jostled on a smelly train made me nauseous so I ducked into the theater. It's such an easy escape. It's dark. No need to interact with anyone. When the kids were little and I had one of those stressful mommy days my husband would walk in the door, take one look at me and send me to the movies.

So it wouldn't seem that great a stretch for me to love movies that come from books. Well. That depends. I always read the book first. It's just one of those random rules that I hold myself to. Movies can often be much worse than the book but rarely better so I don't want my experience tainted by an adaptation. While I enjoy the movies adapted from books or stories the usual praise I dole out is that they didn't totally ruin it. The written word allows the reader to experience so many layers of a story, of a character. Movies are pretty one dimensional and too many voice overs gets annoying.

Recently viewed movies adapted from books:

"Feast of Love" by Charles Baxter- loved the book, hated the movie which I kind anticipated going into it.

"Away from Her" based on the Alice Munro short story "The Bear came over the Mountain"- Loved both. It was interesting to see what changes they made to make it work as a movie- and they did work. They didn't suck the life and layers out of the story.

"The Jane Austen Book Club"- I think I enjoyed the movie a bit more. I know I read the book but it doesn't stand out for me in any way.

There is a feast of movies-made-from-books coming out soon and I am on a reading rampage to finish them all:

"The Kite Runner"
"Love in the Time of Cholera"
"Reservation Road"- I read the entire book picturing Mark Ruffalo as Ethan and Joaquin Phoenix as Dwight and now I find out that it is the exact opposite. That will be a little disconcerting when I finally see the movie.
"Atonement"

So many books, so many movies, so little time...

Creative Cooking

I don't remember learning how to cook. Sure, I took home-ec- with the meanest teacher ever. I dissolved into tears during the entire sewing lesson. I don't know what it was but I became completely dyslexic when it came to threading that machine. It just never made sense. I like the idea of sewing. The idea of creating my own clothes is quite appealing. In fact I signed up for a sewing class as an adult. My goal was to make some curtains to replace the duck themed ones in the camper we had just bought. Simple enough, yes? Well. I found some excuse and ended up dropping it after one, maybe two classes. Me and sewing are just not meant to be. My dad ended up sewing most of my home ec project in seventh grade- a pillow. A rectangular pillow. Four perfectly straight edges. Even now my husband or daughter sew any buttons that have fallen off. I have many talents but apparently sewing is not one of them.

But cooking is. I love to cook. My secret is adding copped nuts or seeds to many dishes- it makes them seem more exotic than they are. My mom is amazed when she comes to visit at how I can whip things together the way I do. I sometimes try recipes from cookbooks but that doesn't last long. I prefer to make up my own. My new thing is letting the cupboards and freezer get down to the bare bones and still creating something appetizing for my family. I didn't make it to the grocery store today and I really needed to. Desperately. But, we are still eating well. It's a vegetarian appetizer night: vegetable gyoza, vegetarian chicken tenders, spinach florentine bites and carrot and celery sticks. All served with a glass of red wine and that is a perfectly acceptable dinner, considering it looks as though we have nothing. The fruit bin is empty. Ditto the veggie bin except for one carrot and three stalks of celery. There is just something so satisfying in creating something from apparently nothing. Not to mention the hundred bucks we saved by not going out to eat.

A Day Spent De-cluttering

Spent much of the day de-cluttering the house.I love that feeling. It's like making way for something new. Went through all the old coats, boots and other winter-wear. Went through my youngest daughter's closet and two dressers and all the little nooks and crannies where she had stashed bags inside of inside of bags filled with her treasures. Lots and lots of treasures.She even has a drawer that she forbade me from discarding any of the contents. And she means it. She wants her children to go through that drawer someday and be able to see the kind of things she was interested in when she was a kid herself. Her daddy has the same kind of drawer back at his mom's house.

Two days ago I went on this organizing-my-books rampage and if you know me at all that is not an easy or simple undertaking. Especially since I started it after dinner on a weeknight. I was done by 11:00-ish. I had stacks of books all over the house as I categorized them by books read and unread, fiction vs. non, and I even alphabetized them. That ended up being quite interesting as I noticed which writers I had many books by: Antonya Nelson, Ron Carlson, Carol Shields to name a few. There's a bookshelf in my office that is filled with writing books that I divided into categories such as: writers on writing, women writers, prompts and exercises, the craft of fiction, motivation, inspiration, creativity and fiction that I read over and over to learn to write like they do.

Now I gaze at my bookshelves all so neat and organized and I feel this immense satisfaction and this warmth of being surrounded by old friends. And also this: this creeping sense of guilt that I really, really (and I mean seriously) have no business buying anymore books until I read the over four hundred that now line my tidy little bookshelves unread.

NaBloPoMo

I've always done well with assignments.I remember asking for homework in third grade. Doing book reports for extra credit. Last year I did the NaNoWriMo challenge on my own in September. That's what started this blog. It became a place to hold myself accountable. I place where I announced that I intended to write 50,000 words in thirty days and therefore had to do it so as not to look foolish to myself or friends and family and whoever else might stumble across my blog. Which actually doesn't help with the whole trying not to care what everyone thinks of me thing but that's a whole other post on a whole other kind of blog. This blog is about the creative process. The ups and downs, ins and outs. The ways it eludes us, the ways we woo it. It's about what happens when we show up and what's happening when we don't. I imagine that I have a good ten days worth of topics to cover on creativity and my process but after that... who knows. That's when it will get fun. That's when I'll start looking for creativity in unusual places. When I'll look past my own writing, collage and graphic design processes. I will start posting more photos of...whatever... my artwork, moments from my days as I start mining them for material, the debris and ephemera that cross my path that suddenly become something worth documenting just because I am paying attention in a new way.

Here's an artist who finds art everywhere! www.kerismith.com