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Posts tagged ‘inspiration’

Feb 4

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Aimee: Mothers of Invention

Crossposted from Artsyville, by Aimee Myers Dolich.

an EXTRA special thank you goes today to the fabulous jennifer new, who published my artwork this week on her recently started blog mothers of invention. jennifer, who is also the author of drawing from life: the journal as art (a must-read for art journalers), spun off the MOI blog from her series of excellent articles on the challenges that women face while balancing a creative career with the round-the-clock demands of raising a family. she is currently working on a book proposal to give the many creative mamas out there a much needed resource on how to manage those challenges.

jennifer’s articles have put a voice to many of the feelings i’ve had since my first child arrived nearly six years ago. in her words i recognize the despair and resentment i’ve felt from having to abandon a great idea or cut short a creative process because someone won’t take a nap, needs something, is systematically emptying out every dresser drawer in the house, or just won’t let me complete a thought.

her writing has also made me realize how much of my creativity i owe to my children. the urge to create came and went during my pre-baby years, but never consistently, nor with much conviction or purpose. once my girls burst on the scene, so did my desire to create, and that desire fed on itself until it became an essential part of my life, my way of making sense of the world.

just watching my children grow and learn is creativity in progress. they constantly push me out of my comfort zone and i think that’s essential territory for an artist to explore. they approach life with a freshness that cuts to my heart when i stop and take the time to think about what they’re seeing and feeling. life is so new to them; they’re trying to understand things that i expect and take for granted. they say and do things that would never occur to me. their interpretations of the world take my mind in unexpected directions.

my girls have also taught me to live in the moment. with children, there is no tomorrow, no yesterday, only now. because of them I’ve learned to pay closer attention to my surroundings because I have to, and I’m surprised by what I see and what I missed before. i create with an intensity and purpose that i didn’t fully understand before they came into my life. recognizing the significance of those small moments has helped me to be a better mother to my girls as well as my art.

so thank you, jennifer, for your insightful writing on such a complex topic, and for bringing together such a diverse group of women to discuss our common challenge. we are parents, we are creatives — and in order to satisfy both of those worlds, we must be mothers of invention as well.

Feb 3

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Ellie: WANTED: One Hobgoblin. No Navels, Please.

[Crossposted from my personal blog.]

Want to know what happens when you Google “writer’s block”? I’ll tell you: a whole lot of nothing.

Wikipedia provides this definition: “Writer’s block may have many causes. A writer may run out of inspiration. The writer may be greatly distracted and feel they may have something that needs to be done before hand.”

I always feel greatly distracted, and I always have something that needs to be done beforehand. So far laundry and the need to pay some attention to my children, on occasion, hasn’t prevented me from being able to write.

Is it the other option? Have I run out of inspiration?

Here’s what normally happens: I’m going about my day, minding my own business, when ZING! a little germ of a thought, or idea, just pops into my head. It doesn’t particularly matter if it is a good idea or not. What matters is what it does to me: I turn it over and over, around and around, it takes on a life of its own and I can’t not write about it. Once I’ve written about it, gotten it out of me, then I decide if it is worth putting out there for general consumption. Since I’m terrible at figuring out what is good, and what isn’t, I generally just put it all out there. Lucky you.

Having nothing to say, no little germ of an idea or thought to be found anywhere in the vast wasteland that is my brain, is new to me. It appears the little hobgoblin in my head that produces things to write about has gone on to better endeavors, like navel gazing. It is too generous to call what I have a Muse — Muses are surrounded in light with long flowing white robes and bestow wonderful ideas upon people….. mine kind of snortles around looking for acorns and occasionally chucks me one.

The kids, my other source of seemingly endless material, aren’t cooperating. They have been sick and haven’t been up to their usual shenanigans. Unless, of course, I were to talk about the half hour conversation I had with my son yesterday about his boy parts, and even my hobgoblin knows that isn’t a good idea.

I don’t think I appreciated how much writing, for me, is a kind of self-therapy; I am inspired to write when I’m churning with some problem, anxiety or hurdle. And you know what? I’m feeling pretty good these days. Last week was awful — to be sure. Someone has been throwing up in my house for the past seven days (now it’s my husband, even the dog had a turn). We’ve been house-bound, bored and rundown for a long time. But I’m okay. I kept my cool, took care of my kids, let myself off the hook with the housework, and we’re getting through it.

Boooooooooring.

So I guess I’ll kick back, relax and wait for my hobgoblin to stop looking at her navel. Or for someone to pee in the DVD player, or something.

In desperation, I even Googled “I have nothing to say.” You know what I found? A whole bunch of people writing about how they have nothing to write about.

Hmmmmm…there’s an idea.

Feb 1

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Cathy: Seek and ye shall find

Crossposted from my personal blog

For this post, I was drawing blanks. Each thought I had shot forth from my brain like I was out clay pigeon shooting, and having terrible aim. I yelled, “Pull!” and fired, and two things would sail quickly through the air away from me, and somewhat toward each other, arch, miss completely, and drop dead to the ground. The clay pigeons fell with a thud and a puff of dust. The bullets lay listless in the dirt. There was nothing left to salvage. Figuratively speaking, of course.

Not that I have ever been clay pigeon shooting. But I have watched it on tv. That’s right. That’s about as exciting as it gets around here. I like watching Dog Shows, too. Although, I have fired a gun and target shot at antique colored glass pharmaceutical bottles in the woods in Vermont. Oh to be 14 and that stupid again. I should have kept them, they were very pretty, and sold them on ebay. But there was no ebay back then, or the internet. It was the dark ages, between Lynyrd Skynard and the B-52s, at a vinyl speed of 38rpms.

So, because it’s a half day of school, for the rest of the week — more on that later – -a Certain Someone kept wandering over and asking if he could use the computer now to… (this is where I tune him out because it’s something long and involved and involves giant monsters, most likely, or funny cats, and he’s told me the particulars or something like them so many times I feel like my face is melting off when he starts again, especially when I am trying to focus on something else, like say, my own imagination and what I want to write from it because, really, this is all about me you know). So I asked him, “What should I blog about today?”

“Write a blog about how I was inspired by the nicknames you gave [Mr. Cynic] and me on Musings in Mayhem and how I’m making a video mini-series called ‘The Adventures of Mr. Cynic and Captain Comic’ to post on youtube,” responded Capt. Comic.

Only problem with this is he has not actually started filming because Mr. Cynic wants absolutely nothing to do with this. His friends might see. This is causing great consternation and Wars of Words that are particularly virulent around when I’m making dinner and everyone’s hungry and tired from a long day of school, toddlering, taekwando or bass lessons, etc. There is much door slamming and stair stomping and MOOOO-oooooming involved, too.

Someday, the boy will be a filmic genius, I’m sure, but his brother will not be starring in the films as the villian. That will have to remain true to life and in the house. My house. Probably in a couple of hours. Yep. I’m pretty certain of that.

So, on three days in a row of half-days: can I just say that this is not how I wanted or expected to spend the remainder of my ‘free time’ *cough, sputter* before I go in for surgery on Monday.

If it rains, I’m a goner for sure.

[Editor’s note: Cathy’s surgery is today. Please send her your hugs and healing thoughts!]

Jan 18

6 Comments

The Soul’s Re-education – Whose writing do you love?

I will never be a literary critic. I say Wow. I say Yes. I feel a resonance inside, a plucked guitar string, light shifting, I find myself holding my breath. I feel a flicker of an idea, consciousness swirling, a pulse of feeling, a glimpse of memory that sets me ready to try to say…..something, something that might in turn touch and inspire others or provide them with a reflection of their emotions, or show them a new way of looking at the world.

Who are the writers that refill the well for you?

The last decade for me has been a decade of what I call ‘mud’. Not in a negative sense but in a hands-on, practical, prosaic, down in the thick of things kind of way. I have given birth to and raised four children with all the nappies and puree and wiping down and tidying up and cajoling and physical helping and emotional steering that that entailed. Something has to give, sometimes its ‘air’, what’s up there, the things that take us out of ourselves, music, words, exercise, theatre, new places, silence. The children are older now, the tiny baby stage has passed. I am about to start a new decade in age too. I want to begin to refuel in all the other things that I haven’t been able to get to. I still have the physical, the hugs, the squeaky noses, the lifting, the holding, the toddler insisting he can only be happy lying cheek to cheek with me but I want the breath as well, a little bit more than before.

This means catching up on old music videos I have never seen, bands that I hear fleetingly in the car between pickups but never hear the name of. It means, perhaps DVD box sets or catching re-runs of shows I missed like Madmen, The Mighty Boosh, The West Wing. It means getting to more music shows, more theatre, more galleries. (Even if its only 1 more!). And it means books and authors.

These are the books currently on my bedside table or in a tall pile beside it.

They are by writers who were recommended to me by others or are people that I have enjoyed in the past and want to continue to become more familiar with their work. In particular since I have begun to write so many short stories I have also become a voracious reader of short story collections.

  • Hanif Kureshami: The Body (Already in awe!)
  • J.G. Ballard: Kingdom Come
  • A.S Byatt: Possession
  • Gabriel Garcia Marquez: Love in the Time of Cholera
  • Nabokov: Collected stories (His work is a wonderful revelation!)
  • Jeannette Winterson: The Stone Gods
  • Annie Proulx: Brokeback Mountain and Other Stories
  • Adam Foulds The Quickening Maze
  • Virginia Woolf: The Waves, To the Lighthouse
  • John Steinbeck: The Pearl, Sweet Thursday, The Wayward Bus
  • Ivy Bannister: The Magician (short stories)
  • Paul Durkan: Life is a Dream: 40 Years Reading Poems 1967-2007
  • Sylvia Plath’s: Collected Poems

These are books I have enjoyed most in the past few years and highly recommend.

  • What was Lost: Catherine O’Flynn
  • The Accidental and Hotel World: Ali Smith
  • One Hundred Years of Solitude: Gabriel Garcia Marquez
  • To a God Unknown, Grapes of Wrath: John Steinbeck
  • The Gathering: Anne Enright
  • Postcards, The Shipping News: Annie Proulx
  • Map of Glass: Jane Urquart
  • The Selected Works of T.S. Spivet by Reif Larsen (An event of a book, great illustrations, notes in the margins. Beautiful to hold.)

Short Stories

  • How to Breathe Underwater: Julie Orringer
  • Constitutional: Helen Simpson
  • Lorrie Moore: The Collected Stories
  • A.S. Byatt: Little Black Book of Stories

I also hope to become acquainted with the stories of Raymond Carver and to read the first two available stories from The Chaos Walking Trilogy (teen fiction) by Patrick Ness The Knife of Never Letting Go and The Ask and the Answer.

Help me with my re-education, my filling up of the soul and the well of inspiration.

Who are your favourite authors? What are your favourite books? Do you have any recommendations for us of authors we should become acquainted with? Are you an author we should become acquainted with? Add in your favourite band and TV show too. Please leave your comments and hopefully we can share some gems.

Nov 5

5 Comments

Kelly: The Dream Takes Shape: Part I

Happy Shacks 2Cross posted from my blog…since I think I’m the only one here not participating in NaNo! [Editor’s note: Thanks, Kelly!]

I was catching up with some Facebook friends last week and my blogging and art friend Carmen shared, “Having an article and blog feature in this issue of Artful Blogging is a dream come true! What’s on your list of dreams?” I shared with you one of my dreams in my Purple Cottage post.   Then I told you I’d be checking out a piece of property I’ve been watching for quite a while in this post. I’ve admitted here before that I haven’t totally bought into the whole “universe bringing you what you desire” concept just yet, but some little things here and there have been leading me more towards believing that, and my little visit to check out this property was a big knock on the head! I’ve known the property since college; it’s been unoccupied for at least 15 years. In that 15 years, it’s also never been for sale. So, guess what? The first time I go over to seriously take a look at it? Yep, big For Sale sign right up front.  Here are a few pictures.

Happy Shacks 1Walking around the property, I was able to really think through my dream, standing right there…right where it could actually happen. There are 10 small cottages and two small-house type structures on about 3.5 acres with 700’ waterfront footage and two docks with 16 boat slips, and then another 4 acres of undeveloped land across the street. All the structures, as well as the docks, are in good solid shape; they just need some TLC and cosmetic enhancements. So what would I do with it? The cottages would remain just as they were initially meant to be used, for lodging. They are all about efficiency size, though I’d put double queens in each for bedding to allow for more flexibility. I’d renovate one of the larger buildings into a classroom/workshop space and the other into a café/gallery space with “front office” facilities. I’d use the facility as a whole for all-inclusive art retreats, wellness retreats, and corporate team-building retreats. While the cottages are not being used for retreats, the facility would essentially be a B&B, targeting couples and/or corporate bigwigs looking for a unique, peaceful getaway.  We’d have charter fishing services available for both the retreat attendees (thinking bored husbands/boyfriends here) and B & B guests. We’d subdivide the property across the street so it remains deeded separately from the “business” property since that’s where we’d build our houses.

Happy Shacks 3I have a close friend I’ve been thinking this through with. Kath has been a high level exec with Coca-Cola since we graduated from college and is ready to escape from the corporate world. We are the perfect team for this. I have the retreat planning, leadership, team-building, and art background, and she has the wellness, business and corporate contacts background. Our husbands would handle the excursions, dining and general maintenance aspects. She also has twin boys who would grow up having the hots for my twin redheads.  🙂

Happy Shacks 4So back to Madame Universe and her connection to the property and my current employment. As I was driving over to see the property, I got the call to schedule my final interview for my position of choice. Then, boom. The next morning, there’s this big For Sale sign staring me in the face. My dream, right there ready to happen. That was a Friday; my interview was scheduled for first thing Monday morning. Interesting timing, don’t you think?   When I didn’t get the offer for the campus I wanted, that For Sale sign popped back into my head. Maybe that was part of my message that a new job was not the right thing for me right now. I’ve always been one to follow my gut, and once my top choice was off the table, I knew I needed to stay where I was.

Happy Shacks 5So what’s next? What’s next is to just keep the dream alive while we work through the possibilities. The property is currently listed for $1.6 million, but given the economy, the amount of time it’s been sitting there, the fact the most others interested in it would probably be knocking down what’s there and starting from scratch, and what I’ve learned from others who have property in the area, I think we could get them down under $1 million. So we’ll see what happens. Initially I hesitated sharing my thoughts with you here, because once you put it out there, it’s out there, right? But then I realized that if you don’t share your dreams with others, how can they help you get there? This particular piece of property may work out, and it may not, but it’s made me realize that I can do this…if not with this property, then with another. For now, though, baby steps. Still working out the details on my first baby steps, but I’ll share those with you soon! In the meantime, I’d love to hear your thoughts and suggestions on my initial plan.

Oct 8

5 Comments

Cathy: The Next Big Thing

crossposting from musings in mayhem

Why is it even when I have several projects I could be working on, narrowed to two that I am working on (read procrastinating) that I generally have at least part of my writer’s eye on The Next Big Thing?

This is also true in the home improvement arena, you should see what I’ve come up with for the addition now that we are paying a mortgage and have a yard of our own rather than renting a condo.

I mean I could also be focusing on getting those wonderfully folded piles from last week into dressers before starting this week’s loads. But I’m already a day late anyway, and have no earthly idea how it is that I wash the same five outfits per family member twice a week and there are still piles of folded and sorted laundry sitting from two weeks ago.

I’m planning next spring’s gardens while the plots are currently filled and continuing to fill with weeds. I really need to buy more sand to add to my clay soil which needs to be turned and covered, with compost, too, before I start plotting next year.

I am also dreaming baby names, when I know, logistics and physicality have set in stone that C is the last of my progeny. I am thinking of new baby names instead of being present with the three kids I have now.

I can use the baby names for characters, but that is the only technical resolve I have for this dilemma I have that the next thing is better than the present. It’s sparklier, it’s as tempting as a dessert sitting on the counter while I’m preparing dinner.

Something about the new, the imagined, the dreamed is much easier because I can keep my hands clean thinking about it while the dirty work of the present is a constant.

Maybe I just have trouble with finishing, with letting go, with saying finally, for the last time, that this version of the poem, the children’s novel, the article is good enough just the way it is.

I’m sure there is a psychological disorder with a big fancy name for this. It has conveniently slipped my mind.

Aug 26

8 Comments

Cathy: Uninspired

I don’t know if it’s because I’m still waiting for some feedback on my manuscript, or because of the weather and time of year, or because I recently completed my first larger scale writing project since my thesis in college about 20 years ago, but for a couple months now, I have felt completely uninspired to write.

In the past, when I have felt this uninspired, I generally have felt depressed or frustrated by the absolute emptiness of my head. This time around I just feel pooped which can be attributed to the lack of sleep with a toddler who still wakes three times a night at least. The other feeling I have is vaguely satisfied, generally upbeat. Now, again, I’m not sure if this has anything to do with the manuscript or just maturity level over aged forty.

It’s summer and all the kids are as around as a teen can be when all his friends are back from their extended vacations that did not coincide with his visit to his father the previous month. S is always around, hovering upstairs drawing and reading or tapping me on the shoulder and Momming me repeatedly; and of course, Baby C is generally underfoot, when she’s not on top of something like Honey’s closed laptop on his desk. So, for me to sit in front of the computer is generally a continuously interrupted thing to do times three. During the school year, I generally have the mornings to myself, with my mother-in-law out doing her exercise thing (which is better than I can say for myself in that arena), and of course, C is still with me constantly.

I think some of this lack of inspiration is just the simple down time from writing something that was a huge deal for me to finish, so to speak. A first draft is a first draft, after all, and I am very aware that what I wrote is not a completed novel. But I wrote the story from beginning to end over one hundred pages. To me, that’s a big deal, not the page number, but the story arc, the things that the main character, who felt like one of my own kids, underwent and his growth and transformation.

I think this month especially has been one of considerable downtime, maybe a fallow field. Usually, when I lived in New England, anyway, the inspiration really starts popping like corn as soon as the first hint of autumn is in the air. So I wonder if some of this is just the dog days of a hot, humid August for me.

S’s eleventh birthday is on the 26th. This and Kenny’s advancement to high school and C’s toddlerdom have really had me considering the constant mutability of time. It seems not so long ago that my boys were C’s age, reaching those initial milestones. Time is simultaneously standing still and speeding by for me. I am constantly considering what is important to pay attention to in the long run, as my children are representing three distinct developmental stages.

I am also in the process of applying for positions outside of my home after a considerable amount of time in which I focused on my kids, my recovery after bedrest pregnancy and my manuscript. In some ways it was a necessary luxury, as Kelly mentioned in comments on Brittany’s recent post that must end. I took offense to the term luxury when Kelly used it, but I can see now is that it is a luxury to be able to be home, to be available to see the magic daily that is the kids growing and changing before my very eyes. Maybe some of the lack of inspiration can be attributed to refocusing on the outside world after being very insular for a long time.

While I have been very philosophically minded, I have not felt the urgency to write that has largely defined my life. This is the first time that to be so uninspired feels like a good thing.

Jun 25

2 Comments

Kelly: The Lottery of Life…

stgeorge girlsCross posted from my personal blog…

Today was “one of those days”, as the saying goes. I’ve most certainly had better. Just dealing with some unpleasant issues on the job…changes and challenges involved with our institutional shift.  Before I headed home, I summed up my day by changing my Facebook status to “Kelly has yet to win the lottery…”  My friend Wyanne must have been online right at that moment because she immediately commented, “You already won the lottery of life…”  Thank you, my dear friend. I needed that little reminder.

When I got home, Wyanne’s wonderful Universe backed up her comment.  The minute I walked in the door, Livvie was sitting on the couch and said, “Mama, where’s your new charm?” This morning I pulled my new anniversary charm out of its pretty little heart-shaped box and showed it to her before I placed the charm and my bracelet in my purse to get it soldered today.  It was that very box she was holding, and she asked me if she could have it.  “Look inside!” she said, “Sarah gave me a present!”  Inside were a few coins and a heart-shaped bead, so I told her how nice that was of Sarah and that, yes, certainly she could have the box.  She gave me a big Livvie hug like only little Livvie can do.

Then Sarah whispered at me from the stairs and asked me to come up stairs.  She grabbed my hand and walked me into the guest room (where we keep all the wrapping supplies) and, still whispering, said, “Shhh….I’m wrapping more presents for Livvie.”  On the floor were the shoe boxes from their new shoes Granddad bought them this weekend.  Inside one shoe box were a Barbie and a few pieces of paper she had colored; inside the other were a sweater and her ladybug backpack.  Yet still whispering, she asked me to help her wrap them. “But I need some tape and some scissors. Can you find me some?” I told her I’d run downstairs and get her some and she said, “Okay, but come right back and don’t tell Livvie.”  When I came back up with the tape and scissors, she started trying to wrap the boxes, then looked to me for help when she struggled.  “Mama, I want to put one of those sparkly bows on each one, but I can’t open the box [they are stored in]. Can you help me?”  I helped her open the box and she picked out two bows, one sparkly red and one sparkly green, and taped them to the presents.

She wanted to put the presents in a gift bag so we walked over to the closet to pick one out.  Now, this closet is the very closet in which I stored Bunny C.  I’ve told you about Bunny and Sister Bunny, so Bunny C is the third backup I found and stored away, only to be found by Sarah when I wasn’t looking.  She named this one Fluffy because, being brand new, obviously she was rather fluffy!  And at the moment, Fluffy was not in her special place in the special closet.

“Sarah, did you take Fluffy out again?”  I previously told her that Fluffy really wanted to live there until she really, really needed her, like when, *gasp*, Bunny and Sister Bunny both got lost or got so threadbare she couldn’t carry them around anymore.  “Yes, Mama,” still whispering.  “Well, do you know where she is?”  “Um, no, Mama, I really can’t remember right now [trying to distract me]…I think Livvie would like this bag,” she said as she picked out a big blue one with snowflakes. Then she put the presents in the bag and took them down to Livvie, who happily opened them up and, snuggling up to her sister, asked Sarah if she wanted to watch Hannah Montana with her.

Thank you, Lord, for bringing me another one of life’s little moments to keep me on the right path and remind me that I have, in fact, won the lottery of life.

Jun 16

2 Comments

Brittany: Bringing Plans to Fruition

I’ve made a couple attempts to write a blog on here recently, and they just didn’t pan out. The last few months have been an odd combination of being at a complete creative standstill while still running 90-miles an hour with my hair on fire. I haven’t had time to breathe, much less blog. Luckily, the creative standstill has passed, and like Bethany, I too have been gifted with the idea for my next novel.

I say “gifted,” because I’m not exactly sure where the idea came from. One minute I was sitting in the car, and the next, it was uncoiling itself in my head, much like a spider spinning a web. This circles around to this, this connects to that. It was amazing and exhilarating, and felt a little bit like being touched by the divine.

I’ve been frustrated with my current novel, How Home Improvement Saved My Marriage, because it’s a little absurdist, and doesn’t really fit into any of the various categories of women’s lit.  The agents and publishers who’ve seen it couldn’t relate to it. But then again, I didn’t write it for them. I wrote it for women like me, who live in the suburbs, shop at Walmart, have never seen a pair of Jimmy Choos in person, and would rather wear a scuffed pair of Keds anyway. The book is like my zaniest mom friend. The one you hope and pray gets a sitter on Bunco night because she’ll fill you in on all the neighborhood gossip and then say something incredibly funny that will make you laugh harder than you have for days. It needs to be out there, dancing on a table with a lampshade on its head, and not collecting dust in my file cabinet. So I decided I’d send it out to one last publisher, and if they didn’t accept it, I was just going to publish the book myself.

Since I’d come to a final decision about my book, my creative brain was a blank slate, so to speak. I was thinking about writing a romance novel (again, just to see if I could do it), and was asking myself what situation might make a good story. I was thinking about the kinds of characters that would interest me, and the image of a girl with hair “the color of a wheat penny” popped into my head. She was a healer/midwife in turn-of-the-20th-century Appalachia, who has her whole way of life turned on its head when a brand new graduate of Harvard Medical School decides to open up his practice on her side of Bear Wallow Mountain. I was trying to think about what big event might bring two antagonists together (because I didn’t have a BIG event in my previous novel), and I suddenly remembered family stories about a terrible flood in the region. And so popped up my new idea.

In 1916, Ivy Lyda (name subject to change) lives on Bear Wallow Mountain and tends to the sick there. Her grandmother was Cherokee and taught her all manner of folk remedies. She’s well respected in her neck of the woods until the arrogant (but intoxicatingly handsome) doctor John Emerson arrives  During the summer, a horrible (hundred-year) flood wrecks havoc in the mountains and forces them to work together even as their lives are put in danger.

By a very odd coincidence, shortly before I was struck with inspiration, I took a time-killing Facebook quiz to learn the name of my Guardian Angel. My result: Uriel.

Uriel is considered one of the wisest Archangels because of his intellectual information, practical solutions and creative insight, but he is very subtle. You may not even realize he has answered your prayer until you’ve suddenly come up with a brilliant new idea. Uriel is the tallest and his eyes can see trough the eternity. All this considered, Uriel’s area of expertise is divine magic, problem solving, spiritual understanding, studies, alchemy, weather, earth changes and writing. Considered to be the Archangel who helps with earthquakes, floods, fires, hurricanes, tornadoes, natural disaster and earth changes, call on Uriel to avert such events or to heal and recover in their aftermath.

I hope to get started on the writing soon. I’ve arranged for childcare for the boys Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays from 9-1 until the second week of July. I’m going to take my time outlining and really make the plot as tight as I can first. It will make it that much easier in the fall when I must concentrate my writing into two mornings per week (with invariable interruptions).

It’s exciting to have a plan again.

Apr 28

14 Comments

Cathy: And now for something completely different

I’ve been so wrapped up in the idea that I need to finish my manuscript, that the feeling has resulted in much the same as shooting one’s self in the foot, can’t win for trying, or a hundred other clichés. So when I saw the opportunity from Elizabeth Beck to be a part of Do Not Leave Unattended! by Judy Beckett of run4istrun.blogspot.com, I jumped at it.

It reminded me of last spring to summer when I discovered Kerri Smith’s Wreck this Journal. I was so stuck, I hadn’t worked on the manuscript since about three to four years prior, even though it had never left my mind. I had let life get in the way of art, and I needed to find a way back. I discovered the way back to art through Wreck. It has everything to do with being able to be free about it, make it messy, have fun with it and play. Because of that little tome and my use of it, I was able to return to the manuscript with a renewed sense of fun and inspiration about it. It didn’t matter if I made it work, what mattered was that I was writing about kids and what they go through in sixth grade, and that even if some of it is hard, it’s also fun to be a kid, have a family who loves you, even when they’re a pain, have friends who stick by you, even if you’re not exactly sure why, and that no matter who you are, you can do something great, maybe even change the world a little.

So, now that I really am right at the end of the ‘first’ draft (which has already been through practically word-by-word edits), like two to three scenes from the end, I find myself trying to make it work, or avoiding doing so, or whatever so that I won’t finish. I took a moment to breath, to get messy, to create something completely different and let it go out into the universe, especially not perfect. Here is the result:springjournal2

springjournal

I wanted to feel like a kid, so I played with markers, I wanted the sense of youth and fun and something new and had been thinking a lot about spring because it’s spring. On my dog walks and in my gardening, I’ve been noticing lots of itty bitty wildflowers, like confetti all over my lawn and around the public areas in my subdivision. I thought about them being fairy footprints left behind after a night of dancing. I wrote a haiku. Then I free wrote in the journal about spring, how it’s about change and new and color…

So it looks like a kid did it, and I’m glad. I needed to feel more like a kid to finish writing about one. And I put a lot more productive hours into my manuscript the week i did this page. Letting go and playing in creativity really can set you free.

Who wants to be next?

Apr 24

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Open House

This installment of the Open House brings self-assessment and emergency care; says goodbye to the old and anticipates the new; and throws in a dash of brotherly love. So grab your preferred cup of joe, or bob or serena (my name for herbal tea) and read about Jacqui, Alana, Suzanne,Tracy, Elizabeth, Johanna, Liz, Jen, and Brittany. Enjoy!

  1. Jacqui Robbins flirts with new ideas while working on her current project (I can relate to that!).
  2. Alana Kirk Gillham waves goodbye beautifully in tribute to her family’s home on the way to a new one.
  3. Suzanne Kamata considers what she loves about being a mother after being tagged. (Why do we so often wait until someone else notices us being a good mom to look at how well we are doing?)
  4. Elizabeth Beck had an ER visit, and gave an anatomy lesson.
  5. Johanna Rupp shares a meeting of herself through May Sarton and views of her garden (which is much farther along than mine is so far this year!)
  6. Liz Hum throws tarot cards to check in with herself.
  7. Jen Johnson discovers she should not Frisbee the toys across her living room when she already has frustration adrenaline pumping, with a serious consequence.
  8. Brittany Vandeputte watches her two young boys play and is justified in her decision to have them close together: no, she was not smoking crack after all.

Jan 30

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Breakfast with Jacqui

It’s Breakfast time! Enjoy the latest in our bi-weekly visits with creative mothers from the blogosphere: Meet Jacqui Robbins, children’s author, blogger, and mother of two. Jacqui is funny and down-to-Earth — just what you need in order to start your day with a smile and a dollop of inspiration. Sunny-side up, please!

jrCC: Please give us an intro to who you are, what you do, and your family headcount.
JR: My name is Jacqui Robbins. I’m a children’s author, sometime teacher, and parent to Tinkerbell, age 6, and Captain Destructo, who is 2 in every way. I live in Michigan with my kids and husband and two cats, a fish, and, lately, two families of attic squirrels against whom I battle daily. I am a 37-year-old who feels 25 or 98, depending on the day.

CC: Tell us about your children’s books and other creative endeavors.
JR: My first book, The New Girl…And Me, illustrated by Matt Phelan, came out in 2006 and Two of a Kind (also illustrated by Matt) comes out this summer. I was a first grade teacher for many years and my books all reflect how hard social drama can be when you’re six. In The New Girl…and Me, it’s Shakeeta’s first day at school. Mia would like to show Shakeeta around, or to learn more about her pet iguana, but how do you start talking to someone who might punch you in the head?

Two of a Kind is about mean girls. You know those two girls in your class who won’t let anyone play with them and are somehow still the most popular? Yeah, them. What if they finally let you play but then they made fun of your best friend?

Right now I am working on a chapter book. It’s a mystery/adventure story with a hint of romance but not too much. I’m in the first draft stage, so I’m still in love with it.

I’m also writing a non-fiction book with my sister called Egghead and Monkey Girl Kick It Old School, in which two sisters (us) raised in the heart of feminism realize they never learned to do any traditional women’s work and can barely feed themselves, and set out to learn everything they need to be domestic goddesses, and to teach it to other domestically challenged souls, while maintaining their fundamentally feminist attitudes.

CC: What prompted you to start a blog? What keeps you going?
JR: I always blogged. I used to write regular group letters, then e-mails and send them to all my friends and family. But I was insecure. I thought you had to be, I don’t know, famous or INVITED to blog, so I came late to the game. Also, it took me a while to find the voice of Jacqui’s Room. I’m a picture book author, but I’m also a novel lover and kind of snide. I wanted to talk seriously and hopefully helpfully about writing, but also be goofy about the classics and pretend to interview Salman Rushdie. When I realized I wanted the blog to be like the meeting rug in my classroom, a place where I hold forth, but everyone can comment and be welcome, it flowed from there. Now I keep going because people are (gasp!) reading it. Also, I am addicted to the internet.

twoofakindcoverCC: What goals do you have for your writing? How would you define your “life’s work”?
JR: Wow. That second question is hard for me because I always thought teaching was my life’s work and I’m not sure it still isn’t. I guess I hope my books tell kids, “Yeah, I know it’s hard. But you’re not alone and you know what? It’s gonna be okay.” And I want to make people laugh those laughs where you smile for a while afterwards. That’s the most important thing.

CC: How has motherhood changed you creatively?
JR: I’m more scatterbrained. I’m also more efficient. That’s a paradox I think only a parent can understand. My books are shorter, because I read to my own kids and I know bedtime is long enough already. I have a broader understanding of human emotions, which is very good for writing. But I’m also exhausted and frazzled and that’s bad. In the morning, I wrestle two kids into snowpants, hats, gloves, boots, coats and carseats, grab two lunches, homework, break up three arguments, find the library book, scream, “Whatareyoudoingupthereyou’resupposedtobebrushingyourteeth?!” and “Noyoucan’twearyourfairywingstoschoolputdownyourbrother’sorangejuice!” and get everyone off to where they need to be and then, heart racing, face frozen in a scowl, and every muscle tense, I sit down and tell myself, “WRITE! BE CREATIVE! You have ten minutes. GO! AAAH!”

officeCC: Where do you do your creative work?
JR: Hee hee. Here is a photo of my office from the summer. It’s even worse now, but I’m working on it, I swear. Meanwhile, I write on the sofa and at my local coffee shop a lot.

CC: Do you have a schedule for writing? Did the pressure of writing under a book contract change your time management strategies?
JR: I DO have a schedule for my writing. I make schedules for my writing all the time. Then I lose them or blow them off or one of the kids barfs and, well, you know. Sigh. Lately, I have been trying a timer: I sit down and write until it goes off. It works for me, this forced discipline. I’m a fast writer, if I’m focused, which helps. My books were all contracted as finished manuscripts, so I haven’t had contract deadline pressure. In fact, having the first book contract was very freeing for me in terms of feeling like “Hey! I’m a writer. I deserve time to write.” So even though I don’t keep a schedule, I respect my need to write and my need for time to do so.

CC: What do you struggle with most?
JR: Balance, or more specifically, my neurosis over the lack of it. Because there IS no balance, I think. My work is clearly much better when I am 100% focused on it and my family is palpably happier when I take a week off writing. So I struggle with the constant feeling of not giving things/people that are important to me everything they deserve.

CC: Where do you find inspiration?
JR: People assume I’m inspired by my own children, but really it’s my students. This is good, because at some point, my daughter is not going to think it’s so cool that her mom writes all these books about little girls who can’t make friends. I’m inspired by the difficulties my students have socially. Also, coffee helps.

CC: What are your top 5 favorite blogs?
JR: Ack. This is hard. I read a lot of writer blogs, but I also like to read blogs by people whose lives are totally different from mine. I’m going to go with the top five that make me smile and spend the rest of the week worrying I hurt someone’s feelings.

  1. Yield and Overcome has musings, poetry, and laughs from a writer, father of four, and recently rediscovered good friend.
  2. Bookie Woogie is new to me. It’s a father and his children reviewing books and they are funny and honest and charming.
  3. Bossy cracks me up.
  4. Elise Murphy (who’s in my writer support group Rock Sugar Beets) blogs about writing and life on the farm. Math for Writers is my favorite post of Elise’s.
  5. Picture books get little respect in the writing world, but Boni Ashburn writes all about them at Life on the Bookshelf. Her own book, Hush Little Dragon, is fabulous.

new_girl_jacketCC: What is your greatest indulgence?
JR: Books. I love them. Our shelves are overflowing and sagging and I love running my fingers across the titles and sighing happily. My friend, Erika Mijlin, wrote Feldman and the Infinite, a play about a guy who stole 15,000 books from the New York public library. He had books in the bathtub. I’m not there yet, but it doesn’t sound so bad.

Also, I never drank caffeine until my son was born. Now I am addicted to overpriced foamy coffee and soy milk drinks in big ceramic mugs.

CC: What are you reading right now?
JR: I just started City of Thieves, by David Benioff. I’m also in the middle of Shadow Country, by Peter Matthiesson, which is lovely, but as dense and murky as its Florida Everglades setting, so I take little breaks from it to read Rick Riordan’s Percy Jackson and the Olympians series, which I recommend to everyone ages 9 to 100.

CC: What advice would you offer to other mothers struggling to find the time and means to be more creative?
JR: Two thoughts, one internal, one practical. First, make sure you are not the one sabotaging yourself. Make sure that if something is important to you, it’s not last on your to do list. Put it first, and then believe that you deserve that time and that your family/your day job/the world will keep spinning if you disappear for 30 minutes.

Secondly, one of my new year’s resolutions this year was to do something every day to make the next day easier on myself. It’s worked out really well; before I relax for the night, I do one thing on my to do list for the next day. Then, the next day, I’m all, “Hey! I already did that! Look at all this extra time I have!”

CC: Wonderful, Jacqui — thank you!

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