Renee is Writing

I am literally sliding out of the year 2013. Today began with some feathery snow that turned to rain. On the drive home from work the rain mixed with ice and walking up the driveway to the house was like walking on shattered glass. As the precipitation dwindles the temperature drops and I am not looking forward to an icy morning. Black ice is predicted. That means a long slow drive back to work tomorrow and some treacherous walking. I will take tiny steps from the car to the school. But I am taking big solid steps into the new year! On January 22 I begin a 6 month long course on writing memoir. I've mentioned this before, but we've had the orientation and I am outlining the book now so this is really going to happen soon. I am very excited to get my story down on paper and with the help of Brooke Warner and Linda Joy Myers, getting it to a publishable stage. I will also be taking an online course through Story Circle Network with Amber Lea Starfire that will teach me how ...

Six or seven years I ago I read a lot of memoirs since I was writing my own childhood memoir and studying the genre. Then I went back to reading more fiction and poetry. Now, in preparation for writing this new memoir and taking the memoir course in January, I've picked up a few more to read and study. This evening I opened up my kindle, downloaded the memoir "Split" by Suzanne Finnamore, and found a big surprise. I had been playing around with some different formulaic structures for my memoir and came up with the idea to break it into five sections based on Elizabeth Kubler-Ross's Five Stages of Grief. I thought that was a good idea for a novel about divorce. But Ms. Finnamore beat me to it. Lo and behold, right in the table of contents, I discovered my idea for structuring my own memoir wasn't original after all. Now it's back to brainstorming some other structure ideas. She also begins her story with a scene that shows her husband downing martinis. Well...

With Thanksgiving over, leftovers packed in the fridge and freezer, and turkey soup simmering on the stove, it is time to get back to business. After 5 days of family, fun and food I need to tuck back into reality. That means going back to Weight Watcher meetings and tracking my food again. It means getting back to a routine of working out 4 to 5 times a week no matter how tired I am, or how late it is, when I get home from work. And it means setting myself up to begin the new year in writing stride. I can't believe it will be 2014 in just a few weeks. Busy weeks at that. With the new year will come the start of my "Write Your Memoir in Six Months" course. I've already set up a binder for the course materials and I've begun making some notes about how I want to write this book. A couple steps in the way of launching this journey are easy to take care of. Number one-- I just received the edits of my poetry manuscript "I am My Mother's Only Poem," ...

As usual I read a lot of how-to books. How to write novels, how to write poetry, how to write short fiction and now how to write memoir. Memoir is a touchy topic and most books will ask this question first: Why do you want to write your memoir? So after years of deliberation these are the answers I have come up with: I have a story I need to tell. It is curled into my heart and I want to expunge it. I believe my story can help other women who are in bad relationships as well as women who have lived with an alcoholic. I love to write. I've written about my happy childhood and I want to balance that with this more disturbing tale. I want to be a published writer. The story tells a transformational tale from my life. It will be therapeutic to write this. I want to share my truth. I'm sure there are many more reasons. Up front though is the fact that I am a writer and I must write. What better story to tell than my own?

There is a book titled "The Art of Time in Memoir" by Sven Birkerts. In this book he takes several published memoirs and discusses how the writers pull together events in a period of time in their lives and create a rich tale from which we can learn about life. In writing memoir time stands out as a scaffold for the narrative scenes. The writer must choose the time period she wishes to portray in the book. She must give the reader a sense of the time in history during which these scenes play out. And the pacing of the tale requires a sense of time from the eye of the reader who will either enjoy a nicely paced narrative or feel bogged down with a slow moving story. the writer needs a sense of when to speed the pace to keep the reader reading, and when to slow it down within a scene to create a deeper impact. That said, this is not the concept of time I wish to rant about today. When I speak of time in memoir I am talking about the time a writer needs in order to craft a...

What is the fear of memoir? It's a horned beast with a trident tail that threatens to stop the writer in the pursuit of her own truth. We all experience each life story we live in our own way. Why then is it so difficult to commit that truth to paper? Why do we struggle and procrastinate in starting our memoir? Why do we give up after ten pages of truth telling? What is it that we fear? Some memoirists fear writing stories that in some way degrade, insult, expose, or diminish family members or friends. They are afraid what they write will be disputed, or worse, that they will be sued for writing it. Other writers fear exposing their own faults, sins and misdemeanors. Each time we sit at our desks, pens in hand, to scribe the truth, that horned beast raises his head and swings a webbed hand that wipes the pen right out of our hands. He noodles into our minds and attempts to erase from memory the very stories that make us who we have become. The very stories that might help us ...

A worthwhile piece of advice given to all writers is to read profusely. It's particularly suggested that you read books in the genre in which you are writing. Perhaps reading is the best teacher of how to write, far outweighing how-to books and writing classes and workshops. Critique groups are great and so are editors, but in the end it's your choice and every comment is just one reader's opinion. So in order to prepare myself better to write my memoir I am starting to read published memoirs again. (Of course I'm still taking classes too!) I just rejoined the internet reading circle at www.storycircle.org . It's fantastic group of women who read and write memoir! I look forward to reading their monthly book choices and engaging in thought provoking and interesting discussions about the books. At the moment I am reading "Wild" by Cheryl Strayed. It's the story of a woman who sets off alone to hike the Pacific Crest Trail. Her experiences, both inne...

In preparation for the memoir course that begins in January I am making lists of turning points, themes, take-aways for the book. It's a long process. Picking out the exact time period to put into the book. Reliving difficult times. Making lists of characters to include and wondering how they would react if the book ever gets published. So much to consider. In the meantime the weather is getting colder, the days are getting shorter and I am hunkering in for the long winter to come. Not happy about the short days or cold, but looking forward to long weekends tucked inside, fingers on the keyboard, finally getting my story down on paper with the help of two great mentors. I'll be posting here about the writing journey and also sharing bits of the book as they get written.

This weekend two of my writing critique friends and I attended the New England Crime Bake, a writers' conference for mystery and suspense fiction authors. Although I don't write in those genres it was an amazing weekend! We drove to Orient Point at the tip of Long Island and took the ferry to Connecticut, then drove to Nedham, Massachusetts for the conference. We attended informational sessions, author interviews and several panels on writing and publishing. The collective energy in the hotel was like lifeblood to writers. While there I felt I was among my people--my writer friends. I knew with every part of me that I belong with writers and I am meant to be a writer. Though it was a different genre there was much to be learned. I even received a great critique on the first 15 pages of a novel from author Lea Wait. It is always encouraging to have people commend your writing skills and helpful to get some critical feedback to make the writing stronger. I now have writers...

Greetings to my blog friends and readers It's time for me to fess up and stop confusing you all. National Nonfiction Writing Month is turning into something different than I planned. I am NOT writing my teachers' book. I am focusing on my memoir. Last night I viewed the first of four webinars presented by Linda Joy Myers and Brooke Warner. The topic is various aspects of writing craft using the book "Eat Pray Love" as an example. I've also enrolled in their online course "Write Your Memoir in Six Months." With that in mind I want to focus on memoir writing. Between now and January when the course begins I hope to develop a list of the turning points of my memoir, write a loose chapter outline and make a list of memories/flashbacks that will help to explain events that occurred during the period of the memoir. I am very excited about writing this memoir as it's taken me many years to muster the courage to write it. It involves exposing my own dif...

November is nonfiction writing month--a response to NANoWriMo where writers can sign up to write a novel first draft in one month. I did sign up for the nonfiction writing challenge and had the idea to do a first draft of the memoir. But since I will be taking a 6 month memoir course starting in January I had a different idea for this November challenge. I've always wanted to write a book for teachers to help them through their first year in the classroom. I targeted preschool special education teachers since that has been my field for over 20 years. It seemed a daunting task but this might be a good way to begin. It doesn't have to be a long, in depth look at a first year teacher, but rather a simple book with some time tested strategies to make things go easily and to make teaching as effective as it can be. Perhaps ten chapters, one for each month, with suggestions. I have to take this opportunity to try it out. And if it goes well I will put together a proposal and star...

The webinar last night was very informative. It looked at the structure of Elizabeth Gilbert's memoir "Eat, Pray, Love" and offered advice and suggestions on how we can structure our own memoirs to make them more cohesive and marketable. The webinar was offered through Write Your Memoir in Six Months and was presented by Linda Joy Myers and Brooke Warner--two awesome and accessible teachers. I've put off writing this memoir for a long time despite knowing it's something I need to do. Putting my emotional truth and my past in writing for the world is a scary thing to do but I have to do it. I've written some short essays about events during that time frame and even written a very fictionalized version of my story. After viewing the webinar last night I became motivated to sit down and get this done. Here's what I'm doing in order to reach that goal. 1-- I signed up for Write Nonfiction in November. It's a group like NaNoWriMo but for nonfiction....

With daylight savings time coming to an end this weekend winter cannot be far away. As the browned leaves float and dance to the ground they remind me of the rhythm and swirl of poetry. My poetry collection is coming along. Just typed up the complete first draft and will go home tonight to proofread and then send off to Lorraine Mejia who is my gentle guide along this journey. May add a few more new poems before it's completely done but very close now. I'm homing in on some writing focus, finding that poetry is my heart and soul so I need to do more of that and keeping distractions that lead me toward novel writing to a minimum. The lessons in this course --Your Life in Poems-- keeps me focused on this writing that feeds my soul. I've already written a poetry collection as memoir and will shop it around, hopefully to be published as a chapbook. That said, it may be time to finally write my memoir of divorce and the alcoholism that lead up to it. (his, not mine) Toward t...

Today is a bit cloudy but still a beautiful fall day. There is a chill in the air, but when the sun sneaks out from behind the clouds the warmth is like a kiss. I'm looking forward to taking off for a weekend in Pennsylvania to see family and have a little calm serenity in natural surroundings. Maybe some poems will emerge over the next few days. Still working on the poetry collection I'm leaning toward making all the poems rather short and with echoes of tanka and tanka prose. Just sent this week's batch off too my instructor and the rest of the group. I have the afternoon free and will make some art pieces for the book. Not sure how much art to include but for sure a title page and then lead pages for each of four sections. I haven't painted in a long time so let's see how this goes. I'm a bit rusty but curious to get back to a visual art. Hope you all have a nice fall. Go pick some apples and bake a pie.

Okay, so I've been remiss in posting on my blog. Busy with work and writing, and life in general. Now it's September (well it's almost over) and I always find fall, the start of a new school year, and the end of summer heat to be a chance for a new beginning. So here comes mine. Presently I am still in the middle of that poetry course, working toward a final book manuscript of 40 poems divided into four sections, one for each season of the year to correspond with seasons of my life. I've decided I really want some of my art in the book but so as not to overwhelm myself I will include 4 art pieces as the intro sheets to each section of the book. This month I also begin 2 short story online classes and hope to work toward creating fiction chapbooks to submit to contests and/or for publication. I'm considering CreateSpace for one of them and taking the plunge into self-online-publishing. Wouldn't do it for a novel but perhaps it's okay for poetry and short ...

Today I begin a new writing adventure. I am taking a 5 month long online course with Lorraine Mejia Green called "Your Life in Poems." Each week for 20 weeks we get a new lesson with model poems and exercises to write from. We are writing poems that tell our own stories so our families and future generations will know what we are all about. Along the way we will post our poems and get feedback from Lorraine as well as other class members. I have been in online poetry classes with many of these poets before so I am guaranteed a wonderful and enlightening experience. At the end of the course we work with a book designer to create our own poetry collection that is the story of our life. I'm still deciding whether or not I want to include art work in the book. I'm thinking I might as it's a chance to incorporate my art and poetry and have it in solid form to share with friends and family. I will post my progress along the way to document this adventure. So l...

word group: voices--ancestors--wind chimes--stone ancestors voices-- wind chimes in the stones

word group: THE STRANGER A stranger in this world the child does not understand love is a gift. He believes it is a birthright all children possess. So, in the only language he knows, he sends out a cry that beckons warmth and sustenance. All of us must answer the calls of all children so the light of nurture can lead us through these black tunnels of violence.

A writing workshop leader once told me that in order to succeed as a writer you had to have "singleness of purpose." Over the 30 plus years since then I have come to see how true that is. I learned the hard way because I had no focus, but things are becoming less blurry lately. Yesterday I heard that my short story "Rose" has been accepted for publication this year by persimmontree. I am proud of this accomplishment and happy to say this makes my fifth short story to get published. I know I've written here about my genre jumping but yesterday's good news helps me see where I need to concentrate my writing. It's a sign! It shows that through my concentration in the past when I took online flash fiction classes I was able to produce a number of solid stories over the weeks of those classes. And now the payoff is coming in more publications. I also received a "not quite for us" rejection this week but with a request to send more work in the futu...

word group: wings--rustle--echo--sky Echoes across thousands     of countries the rustle of  bird wings    sing secrets we must comprehend. A pewter sky    cries polluted tears filling the oceans    with unwritten questions. The silence    echoes the barrenness       of answers.

word group: insomnia--cargo--struggle--sleep I need sleep the elixir for tired bones a weary heart the burdened cargo of too many ideas I struggle to find that peace that eludes me it's like trying to catch fireflies. Yet other days I pray for insomnia so I'll have more hours      to write          to read              to just be.

word group: relentless--questions--imminent--brave On this partly cloudy day when everything is washed in gray shadows the destruction of our world is imminent. The proof lies      in detonated bombs      gun slinging teens      babies shaken      not stirred with love. Relentless to find solutions I ask brave questions but the scarcity of answers is a deafening silence and the afternoon shadows cloud my brain.

word group: past--magnolia--marble--wind WRITING MEMOIR late afternoon sky is mauve and blue marble as I stroll the forest wind is a mourning song magnolia petals coat the path soft slippery with each step I come closer to the past till I'm buried in its ghosts and demons so deep into the forest I believe I can never come out.

word group: garden--voices--silver--leaves The midnight garden drenched in silver light is home to ghosts thin as tissue paper but their voices bold brash bounce off the leaves echo against tree trunks upright or stretched across the path barricading the way. You climb over the cylinders of rough bark trying to grasp the ghosts- like old love they slip away quicksilver and without substance.

word group: divorce--dormant--weed--blooms She strokes the white pages of the divorce decree as if touching the words can make her understand. Denial is not a dormant creature-- it lives powerful in the heart. The weed-like character of lies, deceit, absence take hold in muscles, veins, bones and don't let go. Until she releases them of her own will and hope blooms like April daffodils.

word group: cat--purr--winter--lap Winter ice sheets the windows blocking light and memory. on her lap a black and white cat purrs so loud white lace curtains shift and her whole body vibrates like a harp. She strokes the thick fur and gazes into almond shaped green eyes. But there's no entrance to memories she seeks. Only her own reflection expressionless unknowing.

word group: chaos--senses--dissolve--change The 6 Senses She had a vision      of chaos that raged         inside her heart. She heard the throaty      songs of nightingales         as they vanished from her garden. She tasted the salt      of desire on her tongue         as it dissolved in time. She smelled the scent      of lavender         and nights of lucid dreams. She felt the kiss      of midnight dew         on her naked skin. And sensed the winds      of change         just before they blew the world away.

word group: red--sky--ember--ash Beneath the umbrella of a red sky and the full yellow ball of the sun the Indian woman danced around the fire her arms arced toward heaven her bare feet thumping on dry earth. She danced in circles as embers burned to cold ash and her cries lifted like a prayer in curlicues of silver smoke.

word group: attend--nurture--bowl--cup AVEDON The Queen of Avedon attended the birth and was surprised to see a faerie emerge-- tiny, delicate with wings like lace. As the mother slept the Queen took the fairy child, suckled and nurtured her and kept her in a cave in the dark woods to raise as her own. At the age of one the faerie child fit in a teacup. At five in a wooden bowl carved of beech wood and used for collecting exotic herbs. When the faerie child was sixteen her true mother came upon her in the woods and recognized the faerie as the baby that disappeared from the palace-- the baby whose mother had searched for her for sixteen years. She picked her up no bigger than a chipmunk and carried her home in the perfect bowl of her trembling hands.

word group: chalk--rainbow--sidewalk--fade The girl with blonde pigtails greets early summer morning in sneakered feet shorts and sun blouse. She hauls a bucket of sidewalk chalk to the corner beneath the dappled shade of a maple tree. Amid the caws of crows and sweet songs of sparrows she draws a giant rainbow on the concrete squares. She stands back hands braced on slender hips and admires the bold colors of her masterpiece. The next day a hundred footprints and midnight rain have faded her rainbow even before she finds her pot of gold.

word group: humbled--face--cry--laugh the string of lies humbled her sunlight touched her face but she didn't feel the heat she heard it laugh at her that yellow globe in the crystal sky she walked inside closed the door and pretended it was midnight

word group: wall--ancient--dawn--dusk In ancient days from dawn to dusk she walked tracing the stones of the high wall with a trembling finger. She dreamed of what was behind those walls that trapped her like secret sins. One morning beneath a mauve streaked winter sky she found a fingerhold and ascended. She smiled like the old moon and escaped into the delirium of the unknown.

word group: archway--silence--pause--return/go Through the stone archway      pocked with age She wanders silently      beneath the gaze of a full moon. She enters a courtyard      paved with ancient rocks between them grow rigid grass      and a history of stories. Each footfall in the silence      echoes against the stories as if those long gone      sing into the night. In the center she stills      listens and feels sweet air as the cries of those long gone      have returned home. She waits till silence settles      and the secrets return to the cracks in the stone walls      where no one ventures.     

word group: children--beach--moonlight--whale heels press into damp sand breakers grasp my ankles with frozen brine moonlight sashays on the waves I squint at the horizon and pull into focus a blue whale its blowhole spouts a shower of hope spraying life into the ocean I pray this life will go on

word group: land--heartland--music--heart In the heartland      wind plays music           through wheat fields. Crows explode      into summer sky           too blue to look at           with bare eyes. But if I close my eyes      and let the music fill me           allow the wind to kiss my skin like fingers on a harp strings. This land beneath my feet      becomes my soul           and my heart is free.

word group: loon-silhouette-guest-lake Against the tissue paper moon the loon's silhouette floats on the lake. Her cry is solemn, haunting. She's an unhappy guest on this winter night-- her babies have moved on.

word group:  barefoot--evening--shadows--king evening shadows blend with barefoot prints hiding them from the stalker who seeks to cut out her cold heart with sinful words sharper than the knife she holds in both hands slipping into the shadows of her shame

word group: snow--mountains--trails--tears SPRING TEARS along mountain trails she walks alone hunched into the raw wind arms braced at her chest bare feet leave love notes in new fallen snow her tears freeze on ivory cheeks so she never forgets what happened last summer when this mountain wore a lush blanket of green and the sky shouted happiness like the lone wolf who watches her cry-- his teeth bared

word group: autumn--skeletal--ballroom--frost Late autumn skeletal trees dance toward winter. The ballroom floor is strewn with pine needles and leaves that crunch like old paper-- the words of lovers faded, erased. Morning frost dresses the limbs of the dancers in bridal lace their innocent arms hold up gray cloud curtains. I hunker under white fleece not wanting to face the crisp messages of death in this dawn air.

word group: women--market--sky--spring AT MARKET The woman with corn silk hair strolls the aisles choosing tulips, carnations and lilies. She plucks exquisite sapphire blueberries and palms ruby apples like a lover's cheek. Sniffs melons inhaling love. She wanders the market beneath a steely winter sky buying spring.

Okay-internet down so I've lost 4 days of posting poems. But I have been writing them in my purple covered journal and will now share them with you. Here's hoping the internet stays steady and I can keep up. Technology is a wonderful thing, until it's not, like this weekend. It's why I love my spiral notebooks and purple pens so much. DAY FOUR word group: father--distant--noble--heart MY FATHER The hayseed farmer       with noble heart who kissed my cheek       rubbed my feet-- is gone       into the distant Netherlands that house       dead souls. I cannot touch him       but across the distant breach       I feel his heart beat inside of mine       and he is still here. DAY FIVE word group: rough--sanded--amazement--years AMAZED Along the craggy shoreline       ...

word group: gulps--thirst--permissions--streams I first read the word "permissions" as "persimmons" so I ran with that. Such is the link between eyes and mind at 5:00am PLUCKING PERSIMMONS In the desert of her soul      she feels a painful thirst every tissue in her body      shrivels from want though life streams around her      an unending river           dreams           desires. She cannot stretch long      to gulp its energy. Plucking persimmons      from lush trees the red flesh disintegrates      on her palm She has committed a sin      and has no permission      to quench her thirst           in this life.

word group-- public--private--hidden--shared THE MASK She wears a public mask      of shared smiles      eyes like towering beacons           a heart open like a palm                giving                     always giving Inside are private thoughts      heart closed like a fist      bruised secrets                tears of burnt offerings                         hidden                      ...

April is National Poetry Month. I have their 2013 poster in my office at work. I have a purple covered journal waiting to accept my morning musings that will spiral into poems as the smoke rises from my creative fires. At the moment I have two serious, long term writing projects moving along like bullet trains. The first is the novel I've been working on for two years. It is still very much in draft form with new story lines and character changes emerging from various writing exercises and lots of brainstorming. The second is a memoir that I am writing in the form of a poetry collection. These are big projects and I plan and commit to completing them both this year. I have come to the conclusion that if I focus on these two projects, make time to write every day, and keep the goals in mind I can do this. I accept that I have to have a variety of writing to do and that I can alternate between these two projects as long as I don't let anything else get in the way. So for Nati...

The holidays are over and a new year spreads out ahead of me. Where am I going at this moment in time with my writing. Where do I want to land and how will I get there? I want a career in writing. With less than three years left before I retire I want to start planning now to have writing novels a major part of my life once all that open time comes into my life. That means I have to write more this year. I have to hone in on a genre and on a brand so I can get some novels out in the marketplace. I have to join some writing organizations and network with other writers. I have to hunker down and get busy. No more procrastination and avoidance. No more meandering down more attractive shady lanes. No more making excuses of not time, motivation or energy. Last year I made a commitment to lose weight. I did the work, kept the discipline and exercised my little tushy off and reached my goal weight. It was easier than I thought it would be. I'm hoping getting a novel done, marketing it t...