Midge Raymond's Blog, page 40

Weekly Writing: Insomnia

We've all been there…whether it's waking too early and being unable to go back to sleep, or staying up too late and being unable to get to sleep in the first place. Or maybe it's not insomnia but a necessary sleeplessness, like taking care of a newborn baby or studying for a final exam. Either way, the lack of sleep causes us to see the world a bit differently the next day; that haze of exhaustion can make us cranky, or clumsy, or any number of things.

Write about a time you couldn't sleep. Write about why. What was keeping you up? How did you (finally) get to sleep? When was the last time you found yourself up late? Then write about what the world looked like to you the following day: How was it different than it is when you are well rested?

Bookstore geek: Winter River Books

In the heart of Old Town in Bandon, Oregon, you'll find the lovely Winter River Books, a gem of a book and gift shop.

This bookstore its excellent in its devotion to local and regional books — while so many bookstores tend to have the same bestsellers on the front displays, Winter River Books offers a bit of everything, and it's a great place to browse, especially if you're in the mood for something different but aren't sure what.

And Winter River Books goes beyond being a bookstore in its wonderful selection of gifts, many of which are eco-friendly, which is always great to see. The store also carries fresh bread from a local bakery…

…and this, in addition to the chocolate selection (which includes Theo Chocolate — mmm) basically means one-stop shopping for a bookstore geek.

Weekly Writing: Dancing

Write about the last time you danced.

Bookstore geek: Books by the Bay

There are probably few better ways to spend a rainy winter day in the little town of North Bend, Oregon, than in Books by the Bay. (Especially if you're a bookstore geek, but even if you're not.)

Books by the Bay has a lovely selection of both new and used books, as well as cards and gifts. Even better, its cafe, The Grounds, offers lunchy items and the usual warm, highly caffeinated cafe drinks (another nice reason to be there on a rainy day).

There are a few cozy chairs — and the bookstore's wide-open spaces and expansive shelves are great for browsing.

The store's good light and whitewashed bookshelves remind you that the ocean isn't too far away…and Books by the Bay is the perfect place to pick up your beach reading.

Weekly Writing: Letters

I was chatting via email with a poet friend last week about writing letters, real letters (and yes, I'm aware of the irony) — about how special it is to get a letter or card in the mail, and how seldom it happens anymore. It reminded me of the few true pen pals I still have out there and inspired me to write a letter to one of them that very day. When most of what we get in the mail are bills and solicitations (and, of course, the occasional rejection slip), wouldn't it be nice to have a friendly card arrive amid all that?

So today's writing prompt is more like an assignment: Write a letter. Write a real letter, in your own handwriting, to someone in your life; go to the post office and pick out a special stamp, something perfect for this person; and mail it. It sounds like a lot of work, but this is the point: to take the time to do something a little extra for someone who means a lot to you. 

Then, take a few moments to write about how it felt to go through this whole process. What did you enjoy about it (or not enjoy) and why?

Weekly Writing: Holidays

Happy President's Day!

In honor of the holiday, I'd like to focus today's prompt on holidays. (Bet you didn't see that one coming.)

Holidays are wonderful but odd in that, depending on your job, sometimes you get the day off and sometimes you don't. (Before I worked at a university, I didn't even realize some holidays existed. And until I lived in Boston, I didn't know there was any such thing as Patriot's Day, a.k.a. Boston Marathon Day.) Sometimes you'll be celebrating a religious holiday that no one else seems to be aware of; other times the whole world seems to have the day off for a holiday you don't celebrate at all. Still other holidays may be special to you but apparently not special enough to close the post office. And much of the time, we "celebrate" a holiday without really thinking about the origins of it or about its significance.

So today, write about a holiday that you've always liked — it could be anything from President's Day to Mother's Day to Valentine's Day. Write about why you like it and how you celebrate it. Then write about a holiday you either dislike or basically ignore — and why. Finally, write about a holiday you'd create if you could make up a new one for all the world to celebrate.

Weekly Writing: Teachers

Write about a favorite teacher. What was the most important thing he or she taught you?

Guest post: Author Brenda Miller

Today, I'm thrilled to host author Brenda Miller, who shares an excerpt from her forthcoming book: The Pen and the Bell: Mindful Writing in a Busy World, co-authored with Holly Hughes. And be sure to check out Brenda's blog, The Spa of the Mind, where she muses about living and writing in the digital age.

In my small home, I try to keep my upstairs attic loft reserved for reading, writing, and sometimes—when I can remember to do it—meditation. My dog, Abbe, often joins me there and makes her nest in the blanket next to me, digging with her paws until the blanket's messy enough to be comfortable. She flops down with a human-like sigh.

Only when she is settled do I settle, adjusting myself on the cushion before ringing my little bell. And to do so, I have to take up the only implement handy: a pen. Abbe has gnawed the bell's wooden striker beyond recognition, so all I have is a pen—an ordinary Bic ballpoint—to tap against the bell and begin my few minutes of sitting meditation.

This bell calls me to attention—to the attentive stance necessary for writing. 

The word "contemplation" literally means "in the temple," and when we reserve spots for contemplative activities we do "sanctify" them in some way. For me, the upstairs can feel like a different world altogether, removed from the quiet bedlam that's ongoing downstairs: all the email, the mail, the newspaper, the television, the blogs I simply must read, the student papers, the to-do list. All of them clamor like toddlers for constant attention, though my attention is not really needed there, not every moment of the day. My attention is more acutely needed here, upstairs.

When life gets busy, I sometimes don't make it up here at all. I often don't realize it until I feel myself spiraling downward into a familiar depression. If I'm lucky, it will hit me: well, of course, you haven't been upstairs in two weeks! So I'll climb the stairs to find the room quietly waiting for me, unchanged (except for more dust!), the cushion sitting still on the rug, the messy dog blanket rumpled in position next to it. The dog might be there too, looking up with inquiring eyes, as if to say, Where have you been? And I remember, once again, that if there's anything I think I've lost, I just need to go upstairs to find it.

Writing itself can be a meditation, a time when we simply allow ourselves to observe and become curious about where those observations lead us. We allow the noise of the day to subside in order to hear a deeper voice—one that is always present but often muted, and sometimes all it takes is a simple "call to attention" to bring this voice forward.

This call doesn't necessarily need to come from a fancy meditation bell or expensive equipment ordered from catalogs. It might be as simple as really tasting those first few sips of your morning coffee before you start reading the paper or listening to the radio. Or taking just a minute to study the branches of a tree outside your window, seeing how they change in small increments day to day. Or it might be something as simple as tapping an ordinary pen against your cereal bowl, finding something—anything—that resonates to begin your day with a subtle, vibrant call to attention.

Coming to attention: It's what writing is all about. We are here to pay attention, to observe and take in what the world offers at every turn. Only through paying attention can we offer back to our readers that world now transformed through our authentic voices. As Laraine Herring writes in her book Writing Begins with the Breath: 

  "Writers struggle to find their voices because they struggle with the process of listening. When we as writers talk about finding our voices, we mean: What do I sound like when there is nothing and no one else speaking? What do I have to say once the distractions of my life are stilled?" 

When you're working this way—quieting down, really paying attention—you'll begin to feel like a genius. Really! The derivation of the word genius means simply a god who protects the headwaters, the originating source of a fresh spring. So, to be a genius means really to be original, in every sense of the word: returning to your origin, to "upstairs," to that quiet space where your true voice waits.

 

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Brenda Miller is the author of Listening Against the Stone (Skinner House Books, 2011), Blessing of the Animals (EWU Press, 2009), Season of the Body (Sarabande Books, 2002), and co-author of Tell it Slant: Writing and Shaping Creative Nonfiction (McGraw-Hill, 2003). Her work has received six Pushcart Prizes and has been published in numerous journals. She is a Professor of English at Western Washington University and serves as Editor-in-Chief of the Bellingham Review. Her book The Pen and The Bell: Mindful Writing in a Busy World, co-authored with Holly Hughes, is forthcoming in 2012 from Skinner House Books.

Weekly Writing: Lost messages

Write about a letter or email that you (or your character) neglected to send. And why. And whether he/she will send it after all. And why or why not. And just keep going…

Weekly Writing: Rain

Conjure up a rainy day (or a rainy night). This prompt is about the senses: Write a scene in which you (or your character) are inside on a rainy day/night: What are you hearing, feeling, observing? Then write a scene, considering the same senses, in which you are outside on this rainy day or night.