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Category Archives: writing

Writing is how I process the world around me, so it’s no surprise that a substantial number of posts I will write here are about the process of writing. I have been freelancing for years, and so I will also talk here about the process of querying, drafting, and publication, though I am certainly no expert.

Ten

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Yesterday, my little girls entered double digits, and I just can’t believe it.

Sophie came with me Monday night to hear our gospel choir concert, and it was such a special night. She wore, in true Sophie style, a pink-and-purple leopard print top, sparkly pink-sequin-and-rhinestone shoes, and a red hibiscus hair clip. Yet all of that was outshone by her own personality; she is a traveling ray of sunshine with an oversize heart. She bobbed her head and swayed to the music, and shouted with joy at the end of each song, and when it was over, she was bubbling with satisfaction and excitement. At the dinner afterward, I watched her beam with pleasure as the older girls noticed her and she made friends everywhere she went.

Lucy is our little ballerina, and I’ve so enjoyed watching her stretch herself, literally and figuratively. She has her first recital in a few weeks, and while I know it is making her anxious, she is also delighting in her costume and not letting her fear shut her down. She is our planner, always wanting to be prepared and organized and on time, but she has also fallen in love with Adele and draws pages of outfits and ensembles. Lucy has a guiding sense of morality that is striking in a kid her age, and I am thrilled to think how her careful, precise little personality will continue to bloom.

I didn’t get this post up yesterday on their actual birthday, as work has been a new and uncomfortable level of hectic these days. I didn’t pick up the bags of lollipops they requested to be able to give out to their classmates, and I have no idea what goody bags their guests will go home with after their pool party on Saturday. But I’m feeling grateful and lucky and blessed nonetheless, because I have two fantastic ten-year-old daughters, and life is just fine.

Winding Down

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It’s the time of year when the days between you and summer sometimes seem to stretch out like saltwater taffy, and it’s the time when it doesn’t seem possible that you have enough days left to get everything done that has to get done.

It’s the season for Field Day and end-of-year teacher gifts, and at my house, it’s time for birthday parties and graduations. It’s time for ballet recitals and sinus infections, for blooming baskets hanging on the front porch, for daydreams about the pool and making summer plans.

The seniors are saying goodbye, and the freshmen are moving forward, and I’m thinking about how much I’ll miss them. I’m thinking about new experiments to try next year, and wondering who my new students will be.

At the end of the school year, I usually have the same patterns in my thoughts and daydreams; I know I’ve written a version of this post before. But this year, the fall is more of a question mark than it has been in years. My girls will be in a new school for the first time in five years, and my husband will be out of school for the first time in four years. For the first time ever, my children will be students at the school where I teach.

This year has been an especially vivid one already, full of milestones and wonderful experiences. While I’m apprehensive about all the changes to come, it certainly won’t be boring!

A Decade of Mothering

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Everyone knows that the first double-digit birthday is an exciting one for kids; if you don’t know, go find a nine-year-old and they’ll tell you all about it. But lately, it’s really been knocking me for a loop too, the fact that I’ve been a mother for such a substantial chunk of time already. My girls are turning ten this month, but in a way, I feel like I am too: turning ten as a mother.

Right now, right at this moment, I feel like I have a lot to be proud of from this first decade. My kids are healthy, strong girls. We’ve traveled and tried to introduce them to a lot of different experiences, as well as to the things we love the most, from Anne of Green Gables to Into the Woods and more. We’ve made countless healthy lunches, breakfasts, snacks and dinners, but we’ve also made cupcakes and cookies and eaten candy and hotdogs together. We’ve had Family Movie Nights and talks about nightmares, best friends, growing bodies and where babies come from. They have wonderful relationships with grandparents, aunts and uncles who love them, and we have friends who might as well be family. We’ve talked about education and how desperately important it is. They are city girls who have also been to the beach, the country and the mountains. They are kind and polite (most of the time), smart and feisty and funny (all of the time). They live with two parents who love them, and have worked really hard to be good spouses to each other and good parents at the same time.

I’ve spent a lot of the past few days and weeks and months worrying: how will I teach them what they need to know? Where should we send them to school? Where should we live? Will they be okay away from me? How can I help them be healthy and strong, in every possible way? How can I teach them to be caring and thoughtful, and how can I teach them to be independent? Now partly, this is because I am a worrier: always have been and probably always will be. But I think also, this is the difficulty of parenting: every small decision seems high-stakes, you desperately want to do a good job, but there’s no road map, and you may not know whether you made the right choices for years to come (or ever!). You will make mistakes, inevitably, and you will never get it exactly right.

The next ten years are going to bring bigger variations on these same questions, and the day will probably come when they both leave home. I know I will worry and second-guess myself along the way, and I may never know whether we made the best choices. But at this point, at the end of our first decade together, the most important task has been accomplished: both my girls know exactly how much I love them.

Civil War Summer

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Though we have experimented in the past, my children have never really been fans of summer camps, so our summers are usually unstructured, broken up by fun day trips, family visits and longer week-long trips, and featuring many long days at the pool.

This summer, we are planning a Civil War Summer, to take advantage of all of the wonderful resources and sites that exist in the Maryland-Virginia-Pennsylvania area. Here are some of the plans we’ve made so far:

  • visiting as many Civil War sites as we can, within reasonable driving distance

We took our Girl Scout troop on a walking tour of a beautiful historic neighborhood recently, and it revived my determination that my kids will experience the richness that our region has to offer. There are so many battlefields and parks within a day’s drive of us, and they have learned a lot about the history of our state this year in school, so it seems the perfect time.

Class of 2020

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You guys, my kids are so old now.

I was filling out some paperwork recently for the upcoming school switch, and this line caught my attention: “Class of 2020.” That’s the year they will graduate from high school. How crazy is that? HIGH SCHOOL. I don’t know about you, but 2020 doesn’t actually seem all that far away.

In a few weeks, they will be ten. I’ve been a married mother of two for a decade now. Is this the reason that I’ve been feeling especially old lately, do you think?

Sigh.

Easy Wishes

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Each summer, my girls and I make a list of things we want to do, from day trips to craft projects, from mundane to ambitious. We never get to every item, but making the list is always fun.

This year, the first two items on their list? Squeezing out an entire tube of toothpaste and pulling every tissue out of a box of tissues, both inspired by different Ramona books. They were super excited when I said that we could definitely do both of these things this summer.

Small pleasures from my own small treasures, indeed.

Poetry as Journaling

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One of the unexpected side benefits of my poem-a-day month has been that I have found myself using the poem prompts almost as I would journal prompts. You can look back over the 22 poems I’ve written (yes, I’m a little behind) and get a pretty good sense of my emotional state in the past few weeks, the days when I’ve been down and the days when I’ve been up.

Blogging has been a wonderful tool and definitely made me a better writer, but for me, it’s never been a confessional-style journaling tool. I’m not a blood-and-guts kind of blogger, preferring to save my most revealing moments for longer-form work. I’ve published poems and essays about my life, but that’s not what blogging has ever been about for me, even though I knew it would limit me as far as popularity. I don’t see this as “emotionally shut down,” but simply as self-awareness about what I want blogging to be, and how I want to function as a writer. I want you, my readers, to feel like you know me, but not like you know all of me.

So the poems I’ve been writing, which are all attempts to capture certain moments or emotions, have really been valuable to me, personally and as a writer. As a poet, I like some of what I’m coming up with, but even more, I’m finding some of that release that every diarist knows, when we hit upon the exact right word that expresses what we’re feeling, and our soul feels a little lighter. It’s a nice combination, and I’m trying to think of ways to keep it going after my month is over. I know Poetic Asides does a Wednesday Poetry Prompt, and I’m wondering what else I might be able to find.

Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail

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Pacific Crest Trail logo

Pacific Crest Trail logo (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

There’s a genre of books, and memoirs, that could be summed up as “I went to the woods” books, inspired by or akin to Thoreau‘s famous Walden manifesto about life in the woods and why you should seek it out. You know the one: you read it in high school English class or you remember it being quoted in Dead Poets Society. Here’s a refresher: “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived….I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world” (Thoreau). As our society gets ever more technologically connected, these memoirs seem even more relevant and appealing.

Most often, these tales are written by men, but Cheryl Strayed‘s Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail makes for a funny, sexy, gritty and feminine addition to the category. It might sound funny to use the word “sexy” to describe a story in which the author loses five toenails and doesn’t shower for weeks on end, but even without the sensual interlude Strayed does find along the trail, she describes plenty of other sexual episodes with Joe, her heroin addict ex-boyfriend, and the confidence she gains through each daunting section of the trail. I found the book easy to connect to on personal levels, as Strayed and I share some similarities, but I think it’s also so easy to connect to the narrative because Strayed has such a distinctively honest and intimate voice, so that you feel like she’s talking directly to you.

Like many, I was a fan of Strayed’s for months before I knew her name, while I was reading her work on the fabulous Dear Sugar advice columns at The Rumpus, which are being collected as a forthcoming book as well, Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Love and Life from Dear Sugar (Vintage). If you haven’t been a fan of Sugar’s, I can’t recommend her work highly enough, and if you are a fan, you’ll find Wild a great read as well.

However, even if you don’t know Strayed’s work at all, I think Wild is really a great read, with a brutal beauty in the style of writing as well as the landscape it depicts.

Getting Drafty

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So far in April, I’ve written sixteen poems, following the prompts given at Poetic Asides for the 2012 Poem-A-Day Challenge, and including an additional tanka challenge.

Now, have I written one each day? No, there have definitely been points where I lagged behind and then caught up, drafting several poems in a day. I’ve got one to go right now, actually, a prompt from a few days ago involving the idea of shadows and shade.

Have I written sixteen good poems? Definitely not; most are first drafts, and some I knew were not very good, even as I wrote them down.

So what is the value, then, of a challenge like this? I would say part of the value is that you push yourself to pile up a lot of shitty first drafts, as Anne Lamott wrote in her wonderful book on writing, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life (please buy a copy of that if you don’t already have it, whether you use my link or not). The value of the shitty first draft is overcoming procrastination and perfectionism and getting something down on paper without worrying about whether it’s good yet or not. According to Lamott, every good writer has to do these drafts before you get to the good drafts, and I think I’m not alone in finding this reassuring. There’s a version of this sentiment at work in National Novel Writing Month as well, where they value “enthusiasm and perseverance over painstaking craft” and say, “Make no mistake: You will be writing a lot of crap. And that’s a good thing. By forcing yourself to write so intensely, you are giving yourself permission to make mistakes. To forgo the endless tweaking and editing and just create. To build without tearing down.”

Will I revise each and every one of these drafts further? No, probably not. But I can tell already that some of them have potential as ideas, and I know also that some of them have some good lines, or at least the germ of a good line, and any poet knows the value of one great line.

I think that once I’m done this challenge, I’ll have some good candidates for further revision, and some recoverable lines that I’ll plant in new poems. But more importantly, I’ll have gained some momentum through carving out time to regularly engage the poetic gear of my writer’s mind, and that will surely benefit me.

Poetry March Madness, Round Two

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As promised, the time has come to blog about this year’s poetry March Madness tournaments in my classes. Before I tell you the results, here are a few ways I modified my efforts this year, rather than duplicating how I handled it last year:

  • Instead of staying digital, this year I printed out paper brackets and made a bulletin board display, with the brackets, the booklet of poems, and a page describing the public poetry extra credit project
  • I reserved several days for the tournaments, rather than spreading them out over the month of March. As our spring break is usually in March, consolidating the poems helped keep momentum going this year
  • I randomly assigned students to read certain poems, rather than letting them choose, which saved us some time
  • We finished the unit by having students choose one poem from the booklet and write a timed explication of about three paragraphs. They were allowed to bring in a carefully annotated copy of the poem, as well as a chart listing poetic devices, with corresponding examples from the poem.

So who won? Well, just as last year, Still I Rise and Mid-Term Break were the finalists from my three sections. Once again, we have a strong inspirational poem and a really heart-breaking one!

I’m really happy with how the tournament went this year, so I think I may keep these revisions for next year. I’ve thought some about changing up the poems I use, but haven’t made any real decisions yet. Either way, I think this unit is definitely a keeper.

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