Connecting to the real writer’s life

Ach. I am fed up with myself. I've been a self-described writer for several years now and my publication list is just terrible. It all started out pretty marvy, with lots of articles published about my silly life, a story published here and there, some entries in various professional publications. Then I got lost in…

Connecting to your inner gruntle

Grrrr. I am feeling distinctly disgruntled and I seriously need some gruntling. You know that feeling where you start to have hope, just a wee bit, that something in your life might develop into something interesting... and then it doesn't? Or you start looking out for new opportunities and fun... And can't find them? Or…

The joys of connecting to inspiration

Back when my kids were little, I homeschooled them for a year. It was a magical time for me as a parent. My middle son was just learning to read, and in the space of a few weeks he'd had that "aha!" phenomenon happen where suddenly the squiggles on the page became the story. The…

Serendipitous Connections

  I'm all grown up now, no kids to tow to rugby games or class performances , no parent-teacher lineups or other shared parental volunteer activities to set up friendships with other grown ups. It used to be easy to meet new folks - we were doing the same things at the same time, our kids…

Growing creatives…

Had a wonderful breakfast chat with my chum this AM - we were both talking about whether to go to school at our mutually advanced ages. I have a mad urge to go for a MFA, to get one degree that actually speaks to my creative side. It'd look odd beside the nursing and health…

Piecing together a creative life

I've always known that my life would be a tapestry, as Carole King sings. Once I thought I might like to be a doctor, but I knew that focused a life was not for me. I want diversity in my life, a muddle of alternate activities, a variety of sources of joy. For a while…

Creativity and NaNoWriMo and letting yourself play

The creative impulse is a tricky one. These paintings were done by my dad while somewhat high on morphine for his cancer. They're different than any of his other paintings and I've always loved them. Well, in truth, I finished the pregnant lady one for him - he'd drawn it but not painted it. I…

So, let’s talk about writing despair…

The other day, a good friend asked me, when I was babbling on, yet again, about my challenges with writing, "Who are you are you doing this for?" His implication was that I surely couldn't be doing it for myself, given the amount of struggles I was having with it and the (sigh) ultimate nothing…

stories repeat, and repeat, and repeat. They have the comfort of an old song. And yet, the tunes are different, the instruments vary. Isn’t is marvelous! This blog is filled with serendipitous loveliness. Pictures, excerpts from old books, titles of books long forgotten. Subscribe and be surprised every day.

Biblioklept

How many brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, and cousins of all degrees a little story has! And how few of the tales we listen to can lay any claim to originality! There is scarcely a story which I hear which I cannot connect with some family of myths, and whose pedigree I cannot ascertain with more or less precision.

Shakespeare drew the plots of his plays from Boccaccio or Straparola; but these Italians did not invent the tales they lent to the English dramatist. King Lear does not originate with Geofry of Monmouth, but comes from early Indian stores of fable, whence also are derived the Merchant of Venice and the pound of flesh, ay, and the very incident of the three caskets. But who would credit it, were it not proved by conclusive facts, that Johnny Sands is the inheritance of the whole Aryan family of nations, and that Peeping Tom…

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Revisionist history, or embroidering around the edges of life

Sometimes, being a fiction writer has its disadvantages. Too much imagination has led me into all sorts of trouble. It's just too easy to imagine alternative endings to various stories, and you know, some people just don't like that. I got into trouble last night at a church event, in fact. We were discussing the…