Posts about the writing life and the love of story
This weekend did not go according to plan. Some very wet snow, followed by a dive in temperatures brought out the wimp in me, I’m embarrassed to report. Instead of being outdoors, I went into cooking and nesting mode. Saturday, I needed to use up my remaining bread dough so I made three more baguettes,…
I have started to write. And this has meant going back through old blog posts and journals, looking at the journey I’ve been on. Much of it is not too pleasant to remember. But I think it’s important to look at the story from the perspective I have now and allow the story or poetry…
When nothing seems to help, I go and look at a stone-cutter hammering away at his rock perhaps a hundred times without as much as a crack showing in it. Yet at the hundred and first blow it would split in two, and I know it was not that blow that did it, but all…
Do you believe in magic? Or that you should pay attention to fortunes in cookies? Do you believe you can do it? Whatever “it” is? Do you believe that a heart That’s been broken Can be whole again? I do Most fortunes that I receive in cookies are pretty darn lame and meaningless, but…
Clutter. That’s what I’ve been dealing with lately. Not just at home, but at work where piles and piles of documents that people drop off lie on my desk in stack upon stack upon binder upon folder upon bin upon stack. Obviously, I’m a bit behind. I’m not sure that being so swamped is all…
“Possibly, then, writing has to do with darkness, and a desire or perhaps a compulsion to enter it, and with luck, to illuminate it, and to bring something back out to the light.” — Margaret Atwood, “Negotiating with the Dead”
