Joyce Magnin's Blog, page 24

You Might be a Perimenopausal Writer IF:

A few days ago we did a general discussion on You Might Be a Writer If: and the response was incredible. I've got some very clever readers out there. Thank you. But, today, I thought I would spice it up a bit and discuss a very special category of writer—The Perimenopausal Writer. Of course this is mostly for the women in the group but if a guy has knowledge of this by proximity then he is of course welcome to chime in. Otherwise, talk among yourselves.

You all know what it means to be perimenopa

Mona Lisa--The Jacket

On Saturday my daughter, Emily Kate and I, went thrifting. Saturdays are a great day to hit the Goodwills because everything is half price. Half price! Any hoo, the thing about the Goodwill is you never know. You never know if you're going to find anything worth a buck and a half. But then there are those day when the ceiling cracks open, a shaft of smoky light beams down and shines upon something so wonderful, so out of this world that well, you have to have it. Such was the case this past Satu

The Peril of the Bag

I have a confession. I hate my handbag. And I truly mean bag. It's really nothing more than a bag albeit a colorful one with a strap so I can sling it around my neck, um I mean shoulder. That part is all fine and dandy. The problem is inside. It's pretty much a gaping black hole where everything gets sucked into a whirling vortex of now you see it now you don't. I don't know why I do it but I continue to carry it I wherever I go. And I continue to drop things inside of it, which, when needed, I

There is no Frigate

I chose this E.D. poem in honor of the titles releasing early next month and September from Abingdon Press Fiction. It's a marvelous, wonderful poem, simple and delightful, deep and smart and clever.

There is no Frigate like a Book
To take us Lands away,
Nor any Coursers like a Page
Of prancing Poetry –
This Traverse may the poorest take
Without oppress of Toll –
How frugal is the Chariot
That bears a Human soul.

This one's for you Judy, Rita, Kay and Myra. Glad to be a sister.

Little Known Writer Phobias

Yesterday, I discussed fear, in particular the fear of never having another fresh idea pop into your poor exhausted writer's brain. Well today I thought I would bring even more writerly fears out of the closet. I'm sure many of you will have your own to add so please, go right ahead. What's your phobia? Here's just a few:

Refuseanogoodreasaonusaphobia which is of course the fear of having your manuscript so lovingly written being rejected for absolutely no good reason that you can think of and of

Fear and Hockey Pucks

A sudden loss of consciousness is not a good thing. Neither is having no ideas about what to write. Both leave you pretty much a doorstop. Fortunately if your loss of consciousness is due to some emotional stress or the sight of blood a simple smack on the cheek or a glass of cold water tossed in your face will get you dancing again. But what happens when you, for all intents and purposes, are sitting at your computer all pumped and primed to write brilliant sentences and not nary a one pops int

You Might Be a Writer If --

Okay, I know many others have done this but I thought I'd take a stab at it.

You might be a writer if:

You ever asked the question, "Who ate the first lobster?" I mean who looked at that creepy, monster-like crustacean and said, "Um that would be good with a little drawn butter?"

Your child is undergoing a spinal tap and instead of holding her hand you're taking notes.

You have already given birth twice but decide to do it again for research purposes and this time without drugs so you can get the f

The Greater Philly Writers Conference

Next month I will be teaching at The Greater Philadelphia Christian Writers Conference, August 6-8, in Langhorne, PA. I've attended this conference many, many times as both a conferee and as faculty--leading a variety of workshops. This year I am conducting a fiction clinic for Not Yet Published Novelists or as I've been calling it NYPN Blues. It should be fun. I love to teach and talk about words and books and writing and I hope the 12 or so folks in my clinic will walk away feeling they've lea

Daughters, Agnes, and Away We Go!

Yesterday was a very interesting sort of day. Three things happened that on the surface don't appear to be related but being a writer I am bound by some law of metaphorlogical alchemy to come up with an association. The first part of this equation was that my daughter, Emily, took her first airplane ride. She went to visit my other daughter, her sister, Rebekah in Colorado. She spent all day packing and preparing for her maiden voyage. I went over the process with her over and over knowing that

"I dwell in Possibility"

I dwell in Possibility--
A fairer House than Prose--
More numerous of Windows--
Superior--for Doors--

Of Chambers as the Cedars--
Impregnable of Eye--
And for an Everlasting Roof
The Gambrels of the Sky--

Of Visitors--the fairest--
For Occupation--This--
The spreading wide my narrow Hands
To gather Paradise--

This poem is one that I have read over and over again and each time I see something new. I remember reading it as a teenager and wondering what she was trying to say and what it had to do with