Not Often

 

It’s not often that I am short of words, but tonight they seem to be hiding. I like to think they’re just shy. So I’m not going to force the issue on the wonderful words that make sentences, paragraphs, and stories. Or maybe they are really tired of always being expected to be front and centre, to come when called, to be expected to 

make any author sound brilliant, intellectual and all knowing. So being a caring writer, I’ll let them rest tonight, but I’ll be asking 

for their help again tomorrow!

“A blocked path also offers guidance.”

~ Mason Cooley, writer

Back and Forth

This branch, drooping over the fence 

unsure of whether to grow and flourish 

or to fade and dry up in the summer sun,

still is graceful in its uncertainty. Insistent lilacs made their own decision while deadness and the greenness were making up their minds ~ not unlike my writing practice that is still deciding whether to steady on or to toss it all over ~ so I continue to write until I have no more words, which has never been a failing of mine.

“If you aren’t in the moment, you are either looking 

forward to uncertainty, or back to pain and regret.”

~ Jim Carrey

Train Tracks

Progress: 

There is nothing like it 

only the chug of an engine 

crawling up a hill 

racing down the other side 

gears grinding 

to slow it’s momentum

the engineer that is the writer 

constantly switching tracks until 

completely lost 

in an undergrowth of words and rusted tracks 

but faithfully backtracking into the open 

until once again chugging along 

not knowing for sure where the tracks will lead

but seeing a light at the end of the tunnel

and hoping it’s not another train.

“I was taught that the way of progress was neither swift nor easy.”

~ Marie Curie

Learning to Write

Writing ~

Stringing words together 

from the pull of a theme or story gleaned from stray thoughts or deep commitment. 

Logical thought is useful 

for an outline, 

story paints the picture

but those stray thoughts

find where deep commitment lives.

“A writer is someone who has taught his mind to misbehave.”

~ Oscar Wilde

Feeling the Years

I don’t know if I’ve ever been afraid of my age ~ all because of an invisible and mighty virus. The fearful ideas in my head clung to the virus as if it were a life raft. I’ve had numerous bouts of upper respiratory illnesses over the years, but with each decade, they seem more vicious. I’ve been taking this one personally. After all, I don’t have time to be laid low for over a week wondering if I will ever recover. 

Imagining myself incapacitated and trapped in infirmity. My writing practice has suffered; the order in my home has suffered. My habit of putting one foot in front of the other has stood me in good stead. Listening to my body telling me to stand still slowly to get past this bump in the road has eased my fears. 

Having watched a lot of news programs, I reminded myself of those without a home, without finances, without access to a family physician, without family or friends, without food………until I could rest and be grateful.

“Because there is no glory in illness. 

There is no meaning to it. 

There is no honor in dying of.”

 ~ John Green, The Fault in Our Stars

Permission Granted ~ 3

Dedication to a project is always hard won. Throughout life, any project must have a purpose. That may only be my opinion, however I’ve learned it to be true for me. The purpose must also be something that fits with society, community, family. Something or someone outside of myself. I do get caught up in trying to see where a project fits, thinking too much about the why’s. Or maybe, I just don’t want to do the work. Writing is a good example of both permission for a purpose or permission to do anything else but write. My present, and very long time, writing project is about my experience with having very stable epilepsy. Writing down all the thousands of words over many years has been easy, but recently was becoming boring. Nothing more to say. Nothing to see here. 

Yet I joined two more writing groups, began to drop some social activities, replaced those with reading and wondered what I was doing. I write both in a journal and on my laptop. The only injuries I receive from this sedentary sport of the pen is stiffness from sitting too long! Dedication to this next part of my project is a tough one. Clarifying, organizing, and putting all those words to bed. It’s like herding cats! However, I work at putting aside all the excuses to re-write one more page, revise one more sentence, cut one more paragraph without waiting for permission.

“Write. Rewrite.When not writing or rewriting, read. I know of no shortcuts.”

~ Larry L. King, author

January 1929 - December 2012

Sorting the Specials

 

beginning

categorizing

organizing

flow

essays, poetry, musings 

middle

opinions, beliefs

rounded up

“killing my darlings”

rejigging

grammarizing

end?

“Kill your darlings, kill your darlings even when it breaks 

your egocentric little scribbler’s heart, kill your darlings.”

~ Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft

Coming to the Page

Coming to the page….. my companion for decades. Some call it a brain dump, which it is. But I see it more of a companion. Not always cheerful, not always charming, sometimes whining!! OMG! Such a whiner. Fortunately, over the years, that has slowed and almost stopped. Hmmm……I seem to have written something like this before. But, it’s probably been a long time ago, so this morning the words ‘coming to the page’ felt fresh and a great beginning to an essay. This simple action of coming to the page each morning wakes up my mind to solutions rather than worries, gratitude rather than annoyance. There have been days missed; or mornings that became afternoons. All for a variety of reasons. These pages also are reminders of birthdays, world events, my to-do’s for the day, and about the birds in the trees, the weather. There have been the beginnings of stories, dreadful poetry, dreams, ideas or just a good pity party. Occasionally when words fail me, I sketch something - sometimes notes of music, sometimes a tree or a flower or just a doodle. For a time, my penmanship was becoming completely illegible, but with a new project on the horizon that will require good penmanship, my daily entry has become my practice companion. Coming to the page is much more than journaling. When I began writing these Morning Pages, I wrote just because it was recommended. Realizing its value to me, I have continued and will continue even if it’s just two lines on my way out the door. 

“Inspiration may sometimes fail to show up for work

 in the morning, but determination never does.”

~ K.M. Weiland

 

Book Review: A World of Curiosities by Louise Penny

 A World of Curiosities opens in the small village of Three Pines. A safe and secure place from the gruelling gritty work of murder investigation. What ghosts could interfere with that place of refuge for the Chief Inspector? Then, on the shores of cold Lac Plongeon, the body of Clotilde Arsenault, half out of the water, was discovered by two hikers. 

Chief Inspector Gamache was a curiosity to Agent Jean-Guy Beauvoir. Banished to the basement of the Suréte by his superior, Jean-Guy was ensconced in a cramped office going through petty crime files. The Inspector brought this trouble maker up to work with him on a most difficult case. It was a pretty rocky start that became a solid working relationship. The Chief Inspector, as young Agent Gamache, had had his own frightening beginnings when his detachment was called to the scene of the Montréal Massacre at the École Polytechnique Murders. It was the place and time where his dislike of firearms grew.

The Chief Inspector, always curious and respectful about each person murdered, cared about their circumstances and their families. His empathy for the two children left without their mother was soon deepened when he learns of their circumstances. And their participation in unspeakable crimes. Where was their father? Thirteen and ten, they were completely traumatized, not only at the loss of their mother, but by their upbringing. Gamache was drawn to young Fiona, while Jean-Guy was drawn to her younger brother, Sam. Both children would play pivotal parts in this mystery.

Years later two women connected to murders, but with very divergent lives, would come together on the same graduation stage. Gamache knew both women well ~ one woman, Harriet, from Three Pines and one woman, Fiona, from prison. Louise Penny takes us through the many leads that her protagonist must follow ~ the dead ends, the questions that seem unanswerable, the people that are suspect. She takes us into a hidden room, bricked off centuries before, hiding a painting. At first glance the painting seems to be the famous The Paston Treasure. But it couldn’t be to be in this hidden room. It is deemed to be a forgery and has included clues for Gamache and his team to decipher. 

In her Acknowledgements, Louise Penny writes that, in The World of Curiosities, she studies the theme of forgiveness. Forgiveness sought and forgiveness given.

“There’s always another story/There is more than meets the eye.”

~ Louise Penny, The World of Curiosities

Title: A World of Curiosities

Author: Louise Penny

Copyright: 2022

Publisher: Minotaur Books, an imprint of St. Martin’s Publishing Group

Type: Hard cover

Subjects: Detective and mystery fiction

Format: Series: Chief Inspector Gamache Novel

ISBN: 9781250145291 (hard cover)

LCCN: 2022033302

ISBN: 9781250145314 (ebook)

Readers, Books and Writers

Bookstores - safe havens with

shelves full of stories traveling us

here and there and everywhere.

Penny University Bookstore

is just that - cozy, welcoming

and ‘never overbooked’.

“The love of learning, the sequestered nooks, and all the sweet serenity of books.”

~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The Penny University Bookstore 

3104 13th Ave.

Regina, Sask

https://pennyu.ca

More Sweetness!

*Dessart Sweets Ice Cream & Candy Store

3036 13th Ave, Regina, SK

Side by side, working on writing projects in a quaint little bookstore - The Penny University Bookstore on 13th Ave. My partner finishing up a short story, I’m working on a long term writing project. Two hours in silence broken by discussing writing strategies, problems, the music of the bookstore and patrons coming and going. 

We parted ways, my compatriot drove away to eat pie, while I…….well I had to walk through a line of couples and young families at the ice cream store. Not wanting to appear rude, I joined the line.

Salted caramel and fudge ice cream chosen with care. An outside table vacated, I’m sure just for me, was perfect to sit in the sun and not let a drop of ice cream escape. Ice cream - I really needed that deliciousness.

“Forget art. Put your trust in ice cream.”

~ Charles Baxter, The Feast of Love

Jolted!

Evening Writer's Circle

Welcome, check in, 

meditation….

…….quiet. 

Heads down to computer screens or note pads, 

words and ideas floating and swirling from busy minds to fingertips. 

only the tap of computer keys punctuated the silence……………………..

BONG, BONG, BONG……FLASHING LIGHTS…..

heads snapped up!!……..

What’s that noise?!!!

It’s the fire alarm!!!!…..

Should we leave?!!……

computers, paper, pens disappeared into backpacks and cases,

jackets thrown on, we were led outside by our fearless leader, 

Writer in Residence Pam Bustin, to gather across the street.  

 

Sirens blared from two directions, 

Regina Fire Department was on the scene in minutes, 

from 3 or 4 firetrucks, heavily coated firemen strode into the building…..

.......still no smoke. 

Police on the scene spoke with those of us evacuated about our reasons for being in the library.

Shivering in the cold evening wind, rampant speculation spread about whether there was real fire, wanting someone to tell us what to do next, learning that indeed there had been a fire set in building, pointing up to the second floor. I’m sure details will be in the news at some point. Some of our group had already left for the evening. Just as the last of us were about to call it quits, Pam told us that we were released while the firemen were completed their inspection of the building. In agreement in the cold, we dispersed to home and hearth.

~~~~~

What was I writing on? A project about epilepsy management! The alarm had been right over my head! Thankfully, seizure activity for me has been stable for over 20 years but had it not, it could have been much worse. Has given me pause to think about where alarms are in buildings!

“A jolt activates the mind like nothing else.”

~ Haresh Sippy, author

Phase-ology 102

I wrote and posted Phase-ology 101 in November of 2014. I am now in the next phase of a long term writing project. When I wrote the second line ‘not too long…but just long enough’ I had no idea it would almost be 10 years for this next phase. There have been many writing phases since 2014 all with the help of everyone who has read my stories, essays, poems over the years.  Finally arriving at Phase-ology 102, I still have lots of work to do.

Phase-ology 101 

New phases, like the phases of the moon, need breathing space

Not too long….but just long enough

Centering, regrouping but more importantly

….remembering.

Remembering each difficult, or not so difficult, task was accomplished with all the same skills

learned over a life that keeps rolling along,

shifting with changing spaces of time and talent,

carrying the vitality of belief and experience into each new phase.

With belief and creativity in mind and heart ~ 

Deep breath, 

Spread out,

Pull back in

And lean into the work once more.

“There’ll come a writing phase where you have to defend the time,

unplug the phone and put in the hours to get it done.”

~ James Taylor

Phase-ology 102 

New phases, like the phases of the moon, need breathing space

not too long….but just long enough and much longer than imagined

fears, insecurities, self-doubt hovering just out of reach ~

centering, regrouping and more importantly

….remembering.

remembering difficult, or not so difficult, 

tasks were accomplished with skills

learned over a life that keeps rolling along,

shifting with changing spaces of time and talent,

carrying the vitality of belief and experience into each new phase.

always with the support and encouragement

       from everyone, anywhere, 

reaching out when my heart is too full,

my mind feels too empty, or my soul too dry

With belief and creativity in mind, heart and soul ~ 

Deep breath, 

Spread out,

Pull back in

And lean into the work once more.

“There’ll come a writing phase where you have to defend the time,

unplug the phone and put in the hours to get it done.”

~ James Taylor

Timing and a Brain ‘Dwindle’ ~ An Essay (sort of)

Well, it’s almost 9 pm. I have yet to write anything for my blogpost. Sitting on my sofa, Mr. Jet (my cat) in the other corner; writing and emailing to the Regina Newcomer’s newsletter ~ done. Research when and where we meet for our monthly Dinner Social ~ done. Submission to our little publication ~ done. Why didn’t I get it done earlier? Because today was full. Slept in - just a bit. Yoga, exercises and other morning activities (Mr. Jet’s litter box) ~ done. An appointment in the early afternoon. A birthday celebration of friend (One year clean and sober). And then home. 

So. What was the bright spot of my day? Actually two bright spots. First, the birthday celebration. The second? That little piece of satisfaction that smooths any wrinkles in a day that seems to be speeding up and taking on a life of its own. Taking some time after the fullness of my day, I sat and looked around my mind (that can be a scary place). TV playing old re-runs. Walls and ceiling offering zip. Mr. Jet sleeping. 

It was the timing. My day had been all planned. Lots of space to get to my appointment, get my groceries and write my post. Surprise! I was invited to a birthday celebration! But how to add it to my day. Relying on the Regina Transit System posed a challenge ~ I thought. Did I mention the Brain ‘Dwindle’? It was fortunate! Because I remembered my appointment time 45 minutes too early, I got it all done! Buses on time! Home by 4p ~ celebration by 5p!

“Maybe no good timing means there’s no bad timing either.”

~ Casey McQuiston, One Last stop