Creating a Clean Manuscript

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For weeks, I’ve been working with a manuscript made up of my editors’ original papers all marked up with four different people’s edits. Having already entered all the changes in to the computer, what I had in front of me no longer reflected what the actual poems were. I needed to print out a clean manuscript.

When we’re in the midst of working on a book, at times we need to stop and take stock of where we’re at. How is it shaping up? What else needs to be written? Now that you can see the words without all the pen marks, is there more editing?

With one hundred and fourteen poems printed out, I went by a print shop and bought neon orange and lime green sheets of paper to stand in for section breaks and holes still needing to be filled. It was a relief to take out all the old manuscript sheets, which I’ll be keeping in case I need to refer to them later, and replace them with poems on clean white paper not marked up (yet).

With this manuscript in hand, I have a better idea of where I’m at and what else still needs to be done. Though not all authors need a visual representation of what still needs to be done, I like having something in my hands to look at. It is, probably, the last time I’ll print out the poems in this way. After writing the last sixteen poems, I’ll review the manuscript again and then start designing the book on the computer. It’s hard not to start the page layout now, but once a poetry book is designed, any changes have to be made twice: to the design file and the original Word document. If the poetry is nearly in its final form before I start laying it out as a book, the work will be much easier in the end.

It’s fun to see the book coming along in this way. Even when life gets busy and I don’t have a lot of time to give to it, I find encouragement taking little steps so I at least know I’m getting somewhere. Creating a clean manuscript was a huge step in this process as I look forward to getting the book into final form.

Three Writing Rules

When I started talking to my editors about this book, I gave them special permission to ask any question they wanted, inquire about the back story of any poem. They have only taken advantage of this once and when they did, it was to ask if a poem was about romantic love. I assured them it was not and then I explained to them my three self-imposed rules limiting what I write.

• I never write about romantic love. This is usually not something I have to state outright but now that I have a book with the word “love” in the title, I’m going to have to include this fact in the introduction so people know to look beyond that particular expression of bonding. Besides the fact the whole point of this book is to open up a wider view of what love is, I also don’t share something that can be so fleeting in so public of a forum.

• I never mention names in poetry and rarely in a story. Even when I have someone particular in mind when writing a poem, I never mention their name. This is partly to protect them, partly to protect myself, and partly to let the reader interpret the words into their own life and story without being encumbered with my details. If I’m writing about my life in an article or as part of a talk, I will refer to a person via our relationship such as friend, mentor, or sister. If I use their name, it’s always just their first name with no personal details that is only their right to tell. Being in a personal relationship with a writer is hard enough without worrying about what they’re going to say about you.

• I rarely share the stories behind the poems. One of the great things about poetry is people read their own lives into the poems and don’t often wonder at mine. Still, I rarely share my own experience behind them as I want my words to stand on their own merits. This rule also lets me write with greater honesty and openness knowing I can keep details to myself. Though my editors have permission to ask any questions they want, for the most part, I choose not to talk about the stories and leave people free to see themselves in what they read.

These three rules have helped immensely as I’ve written my books. They give me boundaries and help protect those I love.

What guidelines have you created for your writing?

Managing Multiple Editors - Publishing a Book Series

 

For several weeks, my editors have been across the board concerning how much of the book they’ve worked on. One editor has been through two out of three poetry batches and my other editors have only gone through the first. In between trips and holidays, I’ve been working on catching everyone up to the same point. Last week, I stayed with one of my editors so we could go over the third batch. In a few days, I’ll meet with my other two editors after they’ve arrived at the same point. I’m looking forward to hearing what they think of the new material and discussing some changes to writing they’ve already seen. I also want to start discussing the order of the book with them.

It’s been somewhat stressful having people at different places and keeping track of who has seen what but I would rather have this be a fun experience for my editors with no pressure to be done by a certain time. This is not always a grace I can confer but with no strict timeline to follow, I’m giving us all space. Two of my editors, especially, have enjoyed spacing the poems out, reflecting on one each day.

The point I want to get to is having a clean manuscript to set aside for a while. Once I’ve talked with everybody and made corrections to the master files, then backed them up, of course, I’ll print out all the poems, place them in the order I want them, and then store the manuscript away for a time so I can focus on writing the rest of the book.

When I’ve been at this point in the process before with the other books, I‘ve juggled two hats: one as a writer and one as a publisher. It’s a dichotomy I’m well used to as this is my fifth book but a benefit of taking my time with Finding Love’s Way is I can concentrate on one hat at a time whereas I usually have to juggle both in nearly equal measure. I deeply believe this book will be better for it. A beautiful place to be, I anticipate marking off the majority of the book as having been completely approved for publication and then having everyone on the same page once again.

 

Taking My Time - Publishing a Book Series

Last summer, I made a decision to not pin down a book publishing date for Finding Love’s Way. With all my other books I’ve had firm deadlines but with this one, I’m giving myself the grace to let the book take its own course for however long it needs. As authors, we have a tendency to rush things along, to curtail the process because we’re tired of slogging through the manuscript and want to be done or we’re so excited to see it published, we don’t take the time to refine the sharp edges. Only later do we find the errors, the improvements we could have made if we’d simply taken the time. Such a book is often badly written and hard to read. No time was taken to refine the work and remove the excess verbiage. I don’t want to let that happen with this book and the difference I’ve experienced in choosing to not have a definitive timeline has been, for me, refreshing. There’s no pressure; I can let the book become whatever it desires and give myself the time to make any corrections before it goes to print.

As this book is so personal, so much about growing into the deeper meaning of love, by giving it space, I’ve also given myself space to develop and learn. At different times, I’ve let the manuscript collect dust so I can come back to it with new eyes when I’m not so attached to what I’ve already written. By tweaking the words after a time of rest, I better understand what each section needs, where I want to go with each poem, and I can change phrases to form a more cohesive whole making one poem blend into the next. Truths I learn in the latter half of the writing stage can be worked into the first.

The other tendency authors have is to let a manuscript sit so long that it’s never published. Or we might have a hard time letting the manuscript go—we keep going over it with a fine-tooth comb. Though I am all for the editing process and making sure a book is ready to be published, there has to come a time when we come to the end and release it. There has to be a point when we call it good and put down the red pen.

How do we know the difference between when a book is done and when it needs more work? How do we know when to keep going and when to stop? For myself, I listen to that voice deep inside that just knows. My intuition has served me well. My editors, too, help a great deal. They’re good at letting me know when something still isn’t working or when it’s ready to go. I trust their advice even as I make the final decisions.

At this point in the process, I know I’m far from being finished with the writing. There are still holes throughout the book: three larger holes and thirteen small ones. The poems are like seeds in a garden that haven’t sprouted yet. They need time to grow, time to send down roots and mature. I don’t want to give in to the temptation to hurry them along just to have a “completed” manuscript. The point I want to get across would be scraggly, weak, and unfulfilling. After putting so much effort into all the other poems, I want to give these poetry holes the same treatment. There are things I’m learning and thinking about every day, pieces I’m being given I know I want to include, new understandings to build in. When they are ready, the poems will be there tumbling out of my mouth onto the paper. They will be what they were meant to be because I waited, because I let them grow until there were ready. Only by choosing to not have a publish-by-date has this been possible.

Sometimes we have to have a due date. There is no way to get around it, an article or book has to be ready by a certain time. In this case, don’t put things off until the last moment. Use the entire time you’re given. Give it thought and listen to your editors. I am sure there will be books down the road with a tighter deadline but since I have a choice with this one, I’m taking all the time it needs. When I have at last finished writing and editing the material, I know it will have been done right and done well. 

I’m excited to see what a book looks like that’s had time to really come together in the way it should. I’m excited to see what truths come out that wouldn’t have been otherwise thought of. What will I learn through this process of not rushing myself or anyone else helping me with the book? We move forward, certainly, but the pace is steady with time to enjoy the journey.

Finding the Holes - Publishing a Book Series

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In the post, “Bringingit Together,” I talked about the process of putting the book into order. Last week, I opened the manuscript and took a second look at how one poem flowed into another. Laid out on my living room floor, I went through the whole manuscript, line by line, and on a pad of paper, wrote out what part each poem plays in the larger storyline. Going through the book like this gave me a chance to appreciate and refine the curves and turns along the way.

At times I was amazed at how the placement of a poem influenced its meaning and gave it greater depth. At others, I found holes where the storyline left off and where the book needs new material to fill the gaps. This is actually a relief to me for I know I’m not done writing what I have percolating inside quite yet. I know there’s more.

Because of this process, I have a far better grasp of where I am on the timeline of having the manuscript completed. I can see the larger picture and can thus focus my writing efforts on what the book really needs instead of a more scattered approach just to get to a total number of poems in the table of contents. Each piece now comes under closer scrutiny. Does it work? Is something not here that should be? Is this message repeated elsewhere? It will be a fun challenge to answer these questions as I work on writing poems for the open spaces using whatever inspiration comes my way. 

What Was I Thinking? - Publishing a Book Series

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I often write when I’m grieving, upset, or have a strong emotion. It’s a way for me to process the emotions and get them out. This wouldn’t be a problem for me except for the fact I then publish such feelings in a very public forum. Whenever I get close to releasing a new book, I can be found, head buried in my hands, wailing aloud, “What was I thinking?” I’ll even go back to my editors and ask if we should take a poem out as it’s just too personal but they inevitably respond, “You can’t take that out. It’s so powerful!” This is partly why I have editors – to keep me away from the trash can. I also know the most vulnerable poems, the ones where I don’t hold anything back, are usually the ones people tell me mean the most to them. And so I publish and let my heart’s lament live out there for all to see.

This is not an easy place to be on a continual basis – it brings new meaning to the phrase “wearing your heart on your sleeve” but, in general, I don’t think we’re open enough with each other about our inner thoughts and feelings. Aside from the seeming intimacy of the internet, when in life do we really express those deepest places within us face-to-face? It’s good to have a handful of people in our lives we know we can go to for a good talk but what about when we write? It can be hard to express such things on paper and have no control over who reads them.

“How do you share such personal thoughts so publicly?” is a question I’ve been asked and that I still struggle with. Now that I have an idea of what this book will be, I’m right there asking once again, “What was I thinking?” I then have to remind myself of a couple things. Perhaps what I tell myself will help you the next time you go to write such words.

• You are not what you write. Writers can be artists and as artists, we equate ourselves closely with what we create. However, what we create is not us. My words do not define me any more than what I wear. Whenever I write or sell a book, I remember that I am not what I put down on paper. My soul is always my own. Once a creation is produced or a book published, it takes on a life of its own and it’s out of my hands. If you want to get to know me, I would love to meet up with you and talk over coffee. But don’t think because you’ve read one of my books or friended me on Facebook that you know who I am. That takes time and friendship.

• Don’t be ashamed of those thoughts and feelings you’ve expressed. The thoughts and feelings you’ve expressed are beautiful and genuine. So much of yourself has gone into your writing that it is valuable no matter what you’ve said. Do no harm, but be honest and vulnerable. If we as writers aren’t willing to be open with such thoughts and to then share them, who is going to be?

• What you write will help other people. Everyone has these deeper thoughts and feelings but many times we need someone else to express them first before we’re willing to hear our own. Our words travel far more widely and to more unexpected places than we could possibly go ourselves. You have no idea who you’re reaching and in what ways all because you were willing to be open with yourself. Anything written in love never goes to waste but is planted and grown in the lives of those who turn the pages. This always happens. You may not always see it.

• When people read your words, they don’t see the full story behind them, they see their own. Much of my poetry and writing in general lies at the intersection of my life and deeper truth. However, what I've discovered over the years is when people read my words, they don’t see my story, they see their own. I may have written my heart out about a relationship or an experience but they read it and see their own relationships, their own experiences. You can, metaphorically speaking, stand center-stage under the spotlights and tell of those things you would never otherwise say aloud but what they hear is their own life. I would bet, even when I’m writing about my relationship with a specific person, that person can read it and not even recognize themselves. (I never use names.) It works that well. This is why I balk at how poetry is taught in schools. We don’t really know what the author was thinking but we teach that kind of analysis to students. Just yesterday, someone read a poem going into Finding Love’s Way and told me what I had done within it. I didn't say anything but in my mind, I was thinking, “Wow! I did all that? I didn't even mean to!” But he read himself into the words. People do it every time. Write whatever you want.

Sometimes it’s our strongest emotions, the darker ones we don’t easily express that can be filled with the most light. Sometimes it’s in the depths where we find the treasure and remember, as you write, this treasure is not just for you. We are all so connected, it is a gift for us all. So please, write. Write honestly and openly, share your thoughts and feelings. I want to learn from them. I want to be able to say, “Me too!” and “I never saw it that way.” I want to be challenged, to hear what I haven’t had the courage to say myself and maybe what I've written will do the same for you. Keep writing.

For more on clearing the clutter within before taking pen to paper read, “Clearing the Clutter: Journaling for Writers.”

(This is the 14th post in my "Publishing a Book Series." To see the others, click here.)

Bringing it Together - Publishing a Book Series

I’d been looking forward to the project all afternoon. Once my work was finished for the day, I closed my laptop and pulled out my manuscript. Splayed out on the living room floor, I was delighted to finally have the time and mental space to take all the poems and put them in order. In short, I wanted to see what this book looked like as a whole.

Up to this point, the book has been a collection of individual poems. Though I knew the point I wanted to drive home in the end, I had little sense of the story arc as a whole. I didn’t know the beginning or the middle or how one section would progress into another. The poems were not written with any kind of order in mind and it would have to be created based upon what I’d already written. The experience of putting a poetry book together is rather like being handed a box of colored tiles and being told to make a coherent picture. I can still add and subtract away from the book to strengthen the flow, but with 106 poems ready to go in, it was time to put them all in the hopper and see what came out.

Taking what I learned from my first editor when it comes to putting a book together, I took a sheet of paper and drew out a story curve with notes describing what parts of the story I was looking for along the way. I then split the diagram into five sections: the beginning, going up the curve, the middle, going down the curve, and the end.

Taking the stack of poems in hand one by one, I then divided them into the five parts of the story based on what the poems were about and the lessons I learned within them. Sometimes I wasn’t sure where they fit so I set those aside to use later. If I had two possibilities for different parts of the story, I made that note on the bottom of the page.

I then took a section at a time and found the links between the poems to put them in order. Sometimes I felt inspired as I found larger stories between the poems, themes and questions that came up at the beginning fulfilled in the end. A great deal of the time, though, I struggled through, trying to find how they fit together and coming up short. It was gratifying and frustrating at the same time. The first section, especially, came together easily but the later ones were much harder. One section I reshuffled entirely and did over.

What I did find as I worked through the sections was the conversation between God and I that ran throughout the book. I also discovered some of the poems were even better when placed alongside another than they were by themselves. They brought out deeper truths in each other. Seeing the words come together as a cohesive whole, I feel like I now have the ultrasound for my baby. It’s no longer an abstract concept, but an identifiable thing. I’ve seen the picture and it’s beautiful. Even though the order of the poems is very much a rough draft and I still have some more to write, I love seeing it come together into a book.

What is This Book About?

When I started writing this book, Finding Love’s Way,  I did it without knowing where I was going. I wrote about whatever caught my attention or the words and thoughts I needed to get out. I let myself go without concerning myself about where it would end up. It’s much like starting a journey without planning where you’ll go but taking one step at a time. Some may call this poor planning and they may be right. But my poetry is, first and foremost, an expression of me and my relationship with God. It’s honest and open and real. If I planned the larger story out, I believe it would come across as faked and unsubstantial. So I let it go knowing I would look back later to find the way I went.
 
I’m now at a stage where I’m doing this - looking back and finding the over-arching story. Having the title has helped immensely with this process. It’s given me a point to the journey and now I can go back and retrace my steps in order to find out how I got here. What have I struggled with? What did I learn through those experiences? What have been my joys along the way? Where is the path through the hills I created with the tread of my feet?
 
I have the pieces I need and what I find to be missing I’ll be able to fill in. It’s like one giant puzzle with each poem being a piece of the larger picture. What is that picture? How does the journey lead to the point of it all?
 


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Perhaps the poems are more like a labyrinth with all it’s twists and turns. A labyrinth is a single circuitous path that winds around back and forth in the larger shape of a circle until it reaches the center and then back out again. Learning to love unconditionally is much the same – it’s never a straight path – it’s filled with some of the same lessons over and over again each a little different yet so much the same. There are joys like candles as we walk as God lights our way. Just as God is in all of the labyrinth and not just in the center, so God is in all our experiences of love no matter what labels we put upon them. Love is far, far more than the “good feelings” we usually equate it with. Love is a bond, it connects us. We’re all living in it, walking the journey on the same road but going all different directions. Love is making way for another person, love is honoring their journey even if they seem to be going a different direction than us most of the time. Love is the most real thing there is.

This is what I want the book to stand for. It's what I want the book to proclaim. This is what I want my life to proclaim. If I can communicate some of that reality of love through the written word and make even one person more aware of it, more aware of the joy and importance of love, it will have been worth it. It will have all been worth it.

Space on a Train

It seems fitting I pick up this blog again while riding a train. All throughout my time in Europe, train time was my space, my rest, time to think, relax, just be. My best writing comes out of my be space. I loved it. Traveling by train is my favorite form of transportation and such peace is compounded today as I am heading to a weekend retreat with friends after a very full week.

It has actually been a very full summer and my blog was set aside for awhile so I could pay attention to more internal things. A new time is opening up for me, in my career, in my relationships, with God, and deeply within.  Though I don’t know all of what my life is transforming into and what all these changes will be or are even becoming, it has been life-giving to have the space to attend to them.

Change can be hard for us, even good change. For every new thing coming into our lives, there is something we are leaving behind.  Even the things we are glad to see go can have a tinge of grief while we watch them fall away.  And those things we don’t want to let go of but know we need to, there can be great pain in the release.

One thing I am not letting go of, not to mention it would never let go of me, is my writing. The next poetry book, the third in the trilogy, is two-thirds of the way written and my illustrator is starting the set of drawings to accompany the text. Already a beautiful book, it has been a joy to work on and see come together. All the books will be at the Oregon State Fair this year along with my friend, Dolores Dahl’s poetry books at the author’s table in the Americraft building, or as I grew up calling it, the Jaackman-Long building. Dolores will be running the table during the day and I will take charge of it in the evenings. It’s a nice way to have the books at the fair and to keep flexibility in the day time. In honor of the fair, I will be dropping the price of all the poetry books to $10 each and $5 for the devotional. This price is good through September even if you don’t come to the fair.

In the meanwhile, I still have life to figure out as it unfolds before me. I have several ideas for blog posts but have one more book review and a few articles to write, not to mention a quilt to finish, before I write a lot on here.  But I will try to write more often, put some of those ideas to paper. :)

One End or the Other

The last half of this week, my books kept coming up in different conversations. On Wednesday, a friend from the theatre shared with me that his daughter, who has my second book, used one of the poems for a school report. Then on Thursday, I ran into a friend from the seminary at the school she now teaches at and she whispered something to a boy I was working with about me being an author. To top that off, on Friday, I was talking with another substitute teacher who had asked if I was writing a poem. Caught in the act, I admitted to the crime and let him read it. He then shared one of his own which I really liked. This is the one I wrote:

One End or the Other

One end of the stick,

standing high in the

dirt of the earth,

looking to the sun,

sinking in the mud below.

To grab the top, to

hold the heights,

stretching, reaching

beyond yourself,

too much, too high.

The other end,

flat on the ground,

holding the base,

the bottom,

shaking, mud-

filled hands.

No movement,

no rain, no sun,

no leaves turned to the sky,

only the rocks below.

One end or the other,

one impossibly high,

the other with no where to go.

Two ways to be,

to live - or not...

but what if, instead,

the middle?

Walking, holding,

exploring the trail,

using the stick as a guide,

a companion along the way

to steady the feet,

to trust the road ahead,

learning to see

the forest in the trees.

Beauty in the Sky

At Ecclessia, we all chose something to give up or to add to our daily lives during Lent. I chose to write a poem a day. Writitng poems is holy ground for me, a place where I hear God and myself with greater clarity. Since starting this practice, I have felt God close by and have become more aware of his presence and his voice, and my own voice within. This is the one I wrote tonight.

Beauty in the Sky

As the path takes
a jolting turn
and I am come to
gaze at what I did not
want to see,
I catch a glimpse of
your face, your
beautiful smile
and it warms my heart
to let me know there is still
love in the world,
joy and laughter
in your eyes,
peace and wisdom
on your lips
and in your soul,
an eternal light,
a ray of hope
to lift up, to hold,
to lay open in my hands
and watch fly
free into the
wide open sky.

Day is Done

Day is Done

Day is done and
Night is drawing near
But I’m awake,
Thinking here,
That I have given way too much,
Saying yes to this and such.
My life feels weighted
With demands.
Just let me be,
Let me see,
The flowers and
Enter the shining sea.

365-09 #281

Riches Beyond Compare

I was thinking yesterday about how blessed I am to have such rich relationships in my life. People who love me and whom I love. They are worth more than any amount of money or material possessions, so much more that it makes the comparison look ridiculous. Talking with a friend last night on the phone, she said the same thing. While going through a really difficult time, the love of her friends is helping her through. Whether we are in the valley or climbing a mountain, the friendships in our lives are the physical representations of God's hands holding us up.

I wrote this poem years ago; I found it in a file of work I've never published. I think it captures what I'm trying to say quite nicely.

Unexpected Joys

When one plus one
Equals so much more than two,
When putting two together
Gives birth to something new.
It’s the light of heaven
Shining down on me
And it’s the fire burning deep inside
God alive to see.
What miracles he’s wrought
Like diamonds in the sky.
What unexpected joys
Now that we have learned to fly.

365-09 #237

Re-Organization

I've been busy working on reorganizing my website. After working on Stacey's last week, adding oodles of photographs to the photo gallery, now I am working on updating my own. Her website was a lot more fun because you could see the results. The organizing on mine you'll never see but it makes it much more streamlined for me and easier to find things. I already did a lot of that with Stacey's a while back, now it's my turn. A warning though, you might find some errors or broken links while I work on moving things around. It feels a lot like the book "The Bearnstein Bears and the Messy Room". I have to create places to put things, throw things out, and reconnect all the links. When I'm all finished, I think I'll erase everything from the server and upload it cleanly from my computer. Though it's a bear to do, it will be better in the end. And it is nice to have the time to do all these things that have been clamoring to get done but that just got thrown off the side of my to-do pile. It has all certainly been keeping me busy. Even though I'm without a full time job, I feel like I have a job just the same.

I'm reading a book right now called "Handbook of the Soul". It's one of the books I found at that awesome bookshop in Milwaukee. I am really enjoying it and just like God has a habit of doing, it is exactly what I needed right now. I tend to do so much, I neglect the time I need for my soul, mainly the time to write. It seems nearly every author in this book, a collection of essays, mentions writing poetry as a way to care for the soul. I've started playing around, but lets admit it, warm-ups often suck and certainly, that is the case here. Still, I feel that if you open the doors up wide, good things will come. I'm counting on it.

365-09 #172

Valentine's Day Poetry Reading

This post is in two parts, before and after:

BEFORE: A woman I worked with years ago called me several weeks ago asking if I would come do a Valentine's celebration poetry reading at the residential care facility where she works. I said I would be glad to and have been sitting at my desk this afternoon making my poetic selections from my second book and some unpublished material I would like to try out. Looking at the poems reminds me how much I love writing poetry and how much can be expressed, deeply, potently. My entire self has been crying out these last few months to write poetry again, I have been preoccupied with other things. But it's getting to the point if I don't write, I am going to implode. So today, I am really excited to have the opportunity to share my passion and my love for loving God through words with those whom I am sure will enjoy it. It's at these times I feel like yes, this is what I'm born to do, this is what I LOVE doing. This is what I need to be investing myself in. Perhaps this will be that final push over the edge into a writing storm.

AFTER: The reading was okay. I was right that it tapped my enthusiasm for writing poetry but the audience was either really loud or really quiet. They clapped at the end but I wasn't sure what they thought of me. I definately learned a few things though. When the show is over and I get back on a regular sleeping schedule, I am going to check out other poetry readings to see how authors handle it.

Tonight's show went really well, even with several sick cast members. (Me included.) A few of us have colds but we're glad they set in at the tail end of our time together. I'm getting really comfortable in my part and enjoy it thoroughly. I think the audience does too. Twice in my first scene, I give the waiter dirtly looks. During curtain call the actor who plays him and I have developed a habit of smiling at each other before we bow. It's a nice moment both of us enjoy.

365-09 #44

Silent Poetry Reading

This was brought to my attention today and, being of poetic spirit I thought I would contribute.Feel free to copy the following to your blog and spread the word. Let poetry bless the blogosphere once again!
WHAT: A Bloggers (Silent) Poetry Reading
WHEN: Anytime February 2, 2009
WHERE: Your blogWHY: To celebrate the Feast of Brigid, aka Groundhog Day
HOW: Select a poem you like - by a favorite poet or one of your own - to post February 2nd.RSVP: If you plan to publish, feel free to leave a comment and link to whoever you hear about this from and a mighty web of poetry will be spun.Feel free to pass this invitation on to any and all bloggers.

Voice of the Tide

Beyond the burst of birds,
flowing pure and wide,
your voice I sense within me-
words reverberating through my head
thunder churning on the sea,
the pulse of waves,
steady and strong,
calling me-
to face into the dawn-
to see the world anew-
beyond the shoeless shore.

-Sarah Hoggatt

365-09 #33

A Different Perspective

Tonight my head is in poetic clouds, just where it should be. I hope it stays there. Tomorrow after dance class I am working along with some of the cast on the set. It will be nice to be building something fun and good.

When I saw my first Pentacle Show three and a half years ago from that central seat in the picture, I never thought that one day I would have a different view. Sometimes that's all we need in life- a different perspective.

365-09 #9

Get Moving!

People keep asking me if I'm writing more poetry. Not even the polite questions of "I know you enjoy it" but are more along the insisitent lines of "I love reading it, why aren't you writing it? Get moving!" God has been saying the same exact thing, "I love reading it, why aren't you writing it? Get moving!" This should tell me something. Now if I could just figure out what that is...

365-09 #4

Thoughts on a Hazy Night

Tonight I have been spending the evening out on my porch. If you can count on the weather in Oregon to do anything, you can count on it to be wackily weird. It's mid September and in the mid 90's. I think that is kind of like seeing snow falling, and sticking, in April. It is one of those rare nights home, haven't had many of those lately, much less Katie being home at the same time, I'm enjoying it. It's very hazy outside but warm. I am considering going swimming or at least sticking my feet in. For now, I'm quite happy with my chocolate cake made in a mug in the microwave and a glass of milk. Yes, you read that right folks. Cake in a mug made in the microwave, it was something Katie tried out tonight and I like it. With no editing to do, YAHOOO!!!, I have been cuddling up to my laptop and reading my friend's blog. She wonders where I find the time to read the whole thing and I told her, sometimes, I just need her blog. She has taught me so much through her rants. Of course, she sees this as weakness, I see it as strength. Strength does not always belong to the strong. Sometimes strength is found where the words go, not necessarily where they came from.

I thought about going to get my nose stud changed to a ring tonight at my favorite tattoo and body piercing parlor, but decided to stick with my plan for Wednesday. I will go get it then. I went by there to hang out for a while on Saturday night, I'm addicted now, and Emily told me I heal extraordinarily well. I may have to test this theory with another piercing sometime but for now, I am looking forward to the ring. That was the night I wrote an article for FGConnections, a task I was given on behalf of the Editorial Board. Though it took me nearly the whole night, I think it came out well. I am waiting to hear what suggestions Lucy has. Most of the corrections to my writing thus far have come from my editors or professors. Writing for a publication is a new and fun experience.

What I really need to write though, is my next book. People have been mentioning it so I know it's time. You will be glad to know my staff have agreed to do the next one. ClaraLee has the first couple of illustration assignments and my editors are waiting for the first batch of poetry to be mailed off. A good staff behind an author is invaluable, my books wouldn't be half as good without them, I wonder what this one will feel like? Each of the books has a different feel to it. Lately I have been thinking a lot about how my books are like my kids. Yes, there is me, but I also have this responsibility to them. Like a single parent, my life is not my own. I made a choice, a commitment when I "gave birth" to them, that I would carry each one and help them stand on their own. Whatever my life holds, they will be a part of it. I'm glad for that, I love living my life as an author. It's not an easy one, but very rewarding. Some of you are going to think this is all weird but this metaphor is common in the author circles and whenever one of us says something like it, we all nod our heads in knowing agreement. I am very protective of their life, of my life that goes into them. It's a commitment I made and I will keep it.

Dream Interpretation

This was written off a dream I had last night that has stayed in my head with questions surrounding it. It feels good to be writing poetry again.

Dream Interpretation

Images of terror,
Times since long past,
Hearts that were broken,
Chains that were cast
Left me with dreams in the night,
Asking what have I done,
Torn apart the innocent,
Accusing the one.
Can a right be a wrong,
Can a wrong be ignored?
Should I go through the fire,
Should I sever the cord?
Of the lies that surround us,
The lies told too long,
Should the snake be left sleeping?
Is the lion ever gone?
Is there hope is this darkness,
A light shining through?
Is he just pretending
Or is she trusting in you?
God I don’t know
Where this life will now lead.
Do I pick up the pieces
Or internally bleed?
Can these wounds be healed
From the damage that’s done?
Is it right what I’m doing,
Is it hurting the one
I’d want to protect,
The one that I love.
Would it be better for her
If we rose above
The pain of the past,
Started anew?
Is this what the dream means
For me, and for you?