Start the New Year Write!

It's that time of year when writers and artists are dragging their limp, uninspired wrists through the dregs of the old year. They're either worrying about what they will begin in the upcoming decade, or excited to pen all those New Year's resolutions and commitments that can be so easily forgotten by the first of February. My writing group, the Hen's Teeth (because committed writers are "scarce as hen's teeth"), have a way of holding each other to our commitments and inspiring one another in the new year.

Each January, we do what I call the "all-night write." We get together for a grown-up slumber party, preferably at a cabin or lodge, some place where no one person feels responsible for anything like food or pets or beds, etc. Last year we took the 2-hour drive to White Rock up in the Ozark National Forest. We got lucky with the weather which remained in the mid-60's during one of those freak false springs we often get in this part of the country. We were able to write outside, on top of the mountain, with 360-degree views of the Ozarks spreading out at our feet.

We arrived with our food and small overnight bags about 1 pm and were busily scribbling by 2. Each of the five of us were assigned a food to bring to cover dinner that night and breakfast the next morning. Leftovers would be lunch the next day. The main event was writing. We each brought to the mountain top as many writing prompts and ideas as we could possibly dream up or find in some of our favorite writing books. We then took turns presenting our prompts and all of us wrote on that subject.

One of my favorite ideas was to walk out to the White Rock Mountain overlook on the balmiest January night I've enjoyed since living in Mississippi 37 years ago. We separated and stood in the quiet night for twenty minutes, the wind blowing our hair back as if we were standing on the prow of a ship and the Ozarks below us were dark waves heaving back to a starlit sky. Then we came inside and sat by the woodstove to write about what we had observed and felt in the wind swept silence.



I believe we did a total of 14 exercises in 24 hours. Some of the "writes" had several parts and we always shared them aloud with each other. Everyone came away with at least one piece they would polish to a finish and share with a larger audience. AND we had fun, remembering for that time at least, how very important art and creativity are to our spiritual well-being, and to our sense of the community of women writers. In that 24 hours we grew in our love for writing and for each other in a way that a two-hour session can't quite achieve. We met and built our fire. We wrote. We made great food. We wrote. We hiked around the top of the mountain. We wrote sitting on boulders that had been there since the mountains formed. We wrote into the wee hours of the morning. We slept (briefly) and wrote drinking our coffee before breakfast. We wrote after breakfast. We wrote for the last time just before a late lunch and then took our leave of one another and White Rock.

This wasn't the first all-night write I've done. We did two with our writing group, Herwords, in Asheville, NC. This year, economic constraints didn't allow for a trip away, so I'm hosting it at my place. I know it will be fine. Our expectations are fairly low as to where we spend the night, and I have a nice place. What we're really all about is the writing. We are either far off somewhere in our imaginations or so focused on what is right in front of us that we don't notice our surroundings. Our heads are bent over pen and paper. I'm already excited about the walk I'm planning for us on the 1/4 mile path around my yard as we observe the natural beauty of winter in NW Arkansas, then sit by a warm fire to write about it.

Why don't you try this with your writing group? It doesn't matter where you are, but you'll want those 24 hours of unbroken time together. You'll end up with tons of things to write about in the new year, pique your interest and desire to write, and bond with the writers who mean the most to you--your own writing group. And if you don't have a writing group, start one! There's still time to start your new year write!

(Photos by Susan R.)

Letter to Michelle

(photo from donkey dish .com)

Dear Michelle,

While everybody is busy writing to your husband,
I thought I'd send this letter to you.
I was sitting in church Sunday
trying to pay attention but my mind kept wandering
to the Peace Open Mic later that night, and I'm thinking,
"really, what's left to say?" We're all so disappointed
with the way things are going
you know, war-wise particularly. I'm not one to place blame;
after all, there I was in church
supposed to be focused on the body and the blood
but it was all the bodies and all the blood
I kept seeing behind my closed eyes.
Don't ask me if this was inspired
by the Christ–I don't know for sure.
It's all a mystery to me. But I started
writing this letter then
from the stark middle of those images and I thought
maybe it was time to appeal to you,
you know, a little woman-to-woman, hoping you might listen
if I could get the words right, make my plea clear,
take us both somewhere we haven't been before.
I was so taken with this idea, this letter to you,
that I didn't make it home
but pulled into the first coffee shop I came to, dug around my bag
until I came up with a pen and a teensy pad of paper
that wouldn't hold a paragraph of mine, even on a good day.
I ordered coffee and sat down to get started but happened to sit
right in front of a little Christmas tree which preoccupied me
a moment and that's when I saw the photo hanging on the wall.
As a veteran, it caught my eye and held my attention.
It was a field full of American flags,
big ones, full-sized, billowing in an unpredictable breeze
and I knew then this letter just had to be.
The photo is titled "Valor, Innocence, and Justice"
and was taken by Ellen Gregory of Farmington, Arkansas.
It's hanging in the Perk Coffee Shop in Fayetteville,
a great buy at $50, just in case you're interested.
Hanging there with those red, white and blue words,
"Valor" and "Justice"but it was the "Innocence"
that got to me. Please know,
I write this in all innocence; a patriot,
a flag billowing in your direction.
It seems I digress, but I believe in synchronicity and all the signs
(and photos) were right for this letter to you.
I should probably start over after this lengthy prologue.
The letter itself is really not that long.

Dear Michelle,

The next time you lay down with your husband and for a moment
he is just a man, your man, the man you love more than anything,
put your arm around him, pull him close,
your breasts against his chest
and think...peace.
Wordless, let your hands and body say
with all the love you feel inside
that thousands are counting on him to save their lives.
Remind him he is a mother's son,
your husband and your lover,
father to your daughters. No words now–
stroke his head, his hair short and graying
with the pressure of too much power,
and remind him that other mothers, wives and daughters
love their men
the way that you love him.
Place the palm of your hand over his beating heart
and try to imagine life without him–
gone to war, to kill the "enemy," some other mother's son.
Imagine him coming home estranged or crazy or in a flag draped box.
Remind him this is Christmas and there will be
such flag wrapped packages
delivered to mothers, wives, and daughters
when the doorbell rings
and they were expecting UPS or FedEx,
but it's a captain and a chaplain.
Woman to woman, I'm asking on behalf of all women here,
in Afghanistan, in Iraq, everywhere--to let him know by loving him
that we don't want this anymore.
Show him you'll do anything,
anything--one long romantic, rose-filled, red wine, candle-lit, well...
you know the rest...anything for him,
if every mother's son or daughter
could just come home for Christmas dinner.
Michelle, my last good hope,
clasp his hand, embrace his body, entwine your legs with his,
and hold him tight, tight.
Let your heart drum out this simple word;
for you, for him, for all of us..."peace."
Whisper to him in his sleep,
"Peace, my beloved. Let there be peace."
You know hearts speak louder than words.
Let peace be in your every breath,
in your laughter and your love until he hears it,
until he gets it loud and clear
and wakes up with a changed heart,
thinking he has had a great idea, "Why not? Peace!"
I'm writing you because I need this hope;
the belief that things can change, wars can end
and women are the arbiters of change.
Thanks for reading this, Michelle. I know you must be busy.
I meant no disrespect.
Poets go where their minds lead them,
even beneath the comforter
with the President and First Lady. We can't help ourselves.
We still believe in dreams and visions, foolhardily following
the wanderings of our imaginations.
Please consider what I've asked you here.
I have every faith in you.

Peace,
Mendy

As promised in my previous tips and cures post, here is the poem/letter that came to me while sitting in a little country church gazing out the window at the headstones in an old cemetery. It is a peace poem, which I keep saying I'm going to quit writing, but they keep coming to me and I simply can't ignore them. Let me know if you think I should send this on to the First Lady. If I get enough affirmations, then off it goes!

The Winter Writing Blues—A Few Cures

What does a writer do when you just don't feel like writing? You know, you've had this sinus thing for a couple of weeks, a foreign object flew in your eye, you're arguing with all your best pals and your gal, and it's cold and dark by 5pm. These kinds of things can really stymie your creative urge. You just want to lie down and let it pass, but the problem is that it will pass much more slowly if you don't do something about it. Here are a few suggestions for dealing with the winter writer's blues:

1) Write anyway. I know you don't want to hear that, but it's true. There's only one way out and it's through. Now, what I do is allow myself to write anything. This includes lists, letters to friends, letters to the editor (even if I never send them), holiday greetings, journal entries (highly recommended for mental health), post-it note quotes, blog entries, even a long email to a friend or family member. They all count. Let them count. At the end of even the shortest day, you can say "I wrote today."

2) Let inspiration lead you. In my next post I will include a poem that came to me while sitting in church. It has absolutely nothing to do with the sermon, which I vaguely remember had to do with John the Baptist, who is in himself an inspiration with his wild locust and honey eating ways, but the poem turned out to be a letter to the First Lady, Michelle Obama. I tuned out the sermon and tuned into my own creative mind. I had to get past the Southern church upbringing of "pay attention to the preacher," but then I had a lot of practice imagining other scenarios than the one I happened to be in at the time, being a preacher's kid and all.

3) Do not wait to get the inspiration onto paper. If I had had a pen in the pew (what happened to those stubby pencils and information sheets that used to be stuck in the rack by the hymnals? They were so perfect for writing notes and drawing pictures) and if the bulletin had any space left at all after a dozen announcements and the church wasn't so small that the entire congregation was visible from the pulpit (I do believe in being discrete both with poets and preachers), I would have begun the piece right then and there. I prayed my thought wasn't that fleeting, shook the pastor's hand and was the second one out the door. I headed to the first coffee shop I could find, which was darn close, praise the Lord.

3) Always carry the tools of the trade around with you, in some form or another. I had to dig before I could find my pen and a 2" square notepad, but I never hesitated to use it, although the writing filled half the tiny notebook by the time I finished. And I admonished myself for not having a little more paper and at least a couple of pens in that crazy bagalleni I carry around for just that reason--so I can put a bunch of crap in there, like paper and pens! Now some poets swear by napkins, but I am too heavy-handed and end up with inky smears on raggedy paper. It's better to be prepared.

4) Allow yourself to be creative in other ways. Cook a hearty, wholesome meal or just comfort food. Make a pie or cake and then give some away. I find fresh pumpkin pie to be particularly inspirational. It's the best and really nothing like the kind you make from a can, even if it's organic canned pumpkin. Canning takes the light out, and my god, you don't want that, particularly at this time of year. Do some drawing or painting. Get out of your head. Let your fingers do the talking. I made an entire illustrated book of my anniversary trip with Leigh in the mountains of WNC using stick figures. It was a big hit.

5) Go some place different. Try church or synagogue or George's Majestic Lounge for a little live music. Nothing, I mean nothing, inspires the creator in me like live music. Take in an open mic somewhere and listen to someone else's writing. Even if all you take away is "I can do better than that" well, go home and prove it! Watching crafts people at work, sitting alone on a hilltop, going to hear Handel's "Messiah," strolling through an art museum, studying seed catalogues for spring...try something different. You must allow yourself to be inspired. Give yourself permission, then go!

6) And last, but not least, although it may be your least favorite suggestion, get some exercise. It's tough I know, especially in winter, but a simple walk opens the mind and heart in the most surprising ways. I find I need to walk from 2-3 miles for the best effect, but even one will help. If you're lucky enough to have access to a pool, swimming is great, but don't overdo it or you'll just eat and fall asleep. "Chop wood, carry water." Do this for an hour. Stretch into some yoga. Do not clean house or wash dishes or do anything that resembles regular chores. They are endless and you will keep doing them and never write. Save them until after you've written your first draft and are editing in your mind.

I could go on and on as usual. But here are a few tips for now and I will post my next entry with the poem I wrote following my own instructions. Oh, yeah, and don't go all heavy-handed criticizing your work while you're in the "don't feel like writing stage." Accept it for work well done at a time when you really didn't feel like it. That makes you a writer.