Happy Monday! No ice or snow here this weekend, the Christmas tree was finally undressed and dragged into the woods, and my daffodils have buds. The transition from Christmas to Lent, from winter to spring is unfolding. It’s been a quieting time.
My writing life is transitioning also, a benefit of that quieting time. So, to catch up a bit. These lovely tote bags are how I organize my writing projects. Notes and binders are all together and I can grab-and-go. Yes, I have my computer, but the less screen time, the better. Especially if ‘go’ is out on the deck or the woods or the beach.
The most exciting news is … the Poet Sisters poems Are. Done!
Some of you may remember, I’ve been collaborating with three other poets I met about thirteen years ago at a Table Rock Writers Workshop. We’d kept in touch after that week, and a couple years ago decided it’d be fun to create a book together. We each wrote poems from a series of prompts and those poems were finally finished last month.
The second phase of the collaboration is underway. One of the Sisters has all the poems and is ordering them into a cohesive collection. It’s a monumental task. We’re also playing with a cover image. We can’t believe we’re this far; the book is feeling real. I can’t wait to share more of it with you–later.
My next poetry project is more prompted poems. I’m returning to my own collection, inspired by old photos of people I don’t know. A friend once told me it didn’t seem right assuming we know what another person’s life is like, or making up a life. To some extent I agree, but I study these photos closely and sense them telling me their story. I look at their faces, sometimes with a magnifying glass, hoping to name their emotion. Is the story I create ‘correct’? I have no way of knowing, but I’m giving a voice to those faces discarded in junk stores and antique shops. And those stories are full of heart.
Along those same lines, I just started editing another poet’s manuscript about a difficult subject, the war on Ukraine. As he’s told me, it’s one thing to write about a war in the past; it’s another to write about it as it’s happening. He’s rightly concerned about being ‘a voice’ when he has no right or permission to speak for a another’s life. Part of the editing process is making sure that doesn’t happen. Next week I’ll post a little bit about that. The poems are powerful and need to be out in the wild.
Coming out of mothballs is ‘the-novel-that-refuses-to-be-finished’. The goal is to finish marking up the manuscript–again–so I can start revising it. Again. Sometime in March I’ll let you know how that went.
I’m currently taking a month-long publishing workshop from Diane Zinna (she’s fabulous). Only a week in and already it’s been so helpful. Fingers crossed there will be some publishing credits to share this year.
Finally, I’ve been invited to lead two more writing workshops through our Lancaster County Council of the Arts and those are always fun. There are some wonderful writers in my community, some know they are and some need a nudge. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know the accomplished writers, and nudging and watching stories blossom where they weren’t expected.
Life feels like it’s getting back to normal after the holidays, and the turning of the New Year. I guess the new year is now simply, this year. I never notice when I stop saying ‘Happy New Year!’, but it’s been a while. How about you?
Of course there’s the ongoing battle with the chinaberry trees, but as you can see, I’m winning little skirmishes. Fewer and fewer shoots are shooting up so I know my Epsom salt baths are working. And I love that this lichen is devouring one stump.
Yesterday was a special day–no, not because of the Super Bowl (though I did like Bad Bunny’s half-time show). It was special because one of the communion songs at mass is a favorite, and one chosen for my dad’s funeral mass. I may have shared this before, The Servant Song by Richard Gillard speaks of being servants to each other, and my parents led by that example. Every time it’s played, it’s like a reminder from them to take stock. (For my biological sisters, yes, I had ice cream yesterday since it was ‘a special day’ by being a Grand’s birthday.)
Yesterday was also this month’s gathering for peace. Another reminder.
The carnations, from the monks’ Walk for Peace, still look mostly fresh, this photo was taken last night. I saw them January 13th, and for the past almost month they’ve been a reminder of the purpose of the walk. What I’m supposed to carry, too. They enter Washington D.C this week and I love that my little flowers have remained fresh until they do.
I hope all of you have a wonderful week, and for those of you tired of the snow, may you see it melting. I’ll be back at my window on Monday. See you then!
A Writer's Window 