Beth Camp's Blog, page 13

And what's next?

In two weeks, we leave for a car trip through Canada, already looking forward to summer, blue skies, and driving through the wilds from Banff to Vancouver, where we'll stay a month in an apartment with a nook for writing.My laptop is ready, but I am not. Doctor appointments and news a dear friend has died, as other dear friends stuggle with Covid mean I'm looking forward to a respite, a time of

IWSG June 1: Why do we write?

 How did we get here to the first of the month so fast? You probably already know that the first Wednesday of every month is officially Insecure Writer’s Support Group day. On this day, we post on our blogs to talk about writing. Some of us will reveal doubts or discuss struggles or triumphs. We try to visit at least 12 others in in the group and offer words of understanding or encouragement. For

A Spring Poem: Entropy

The scientist casually,far too casually, brushes a white coffee mugoff his desk. It shatters and a rain of fragments spill on the floor.Entropy, the scientist explains degrees of disorder;everything dissolves into nothingat random, over and over again.What is whole becomes broken,a one-way process repeatedevery day, in every sense of time; our earth wobbles as it circles the sun. Even the

Writer's Resource: What's a Beta Reader?

Like many other writers committed to a large project, I finally finished my first rough draft of Scattered Stones, set in 1840s Scotland. "What's next?" I wondered, after putting the novel aside to 'marinate' for about a month. "How can I efficiently finish this story?"At first blush, I knew I needed reader feedback. Did my story work as I hoped? Diving back into research, I discovered so many

May Morning: A Poem

Two ravens soareddown from the sky this morning,hopping atop the thick green spring grass,heads twisting as they hunted;their beaks flicked through pink cherry blossomsscattered by my walkway.They did not see me, yet I wonderedwhat message they brought,these hardy warriors of the sky,as they hopped in this moment,their croaking cry a reminder these are talking birds. Some believeravens connect

IWSG: Balanced between the best of times . . .

Today marks the first Wednesday of the month with a writing challenge, the Insecure Writer's Support Group. Nearly 140 writers, including me, post our thoughts today to celebrate writing in some way -- maybe sharing doubts or concerns, maybe celebrating our writing achievements, or offering encouragement to each other.If you'd like to participate, please sign up, post your own thoughts on your

May 1: May we begin . . .

How do we begin a new month? Especially in the first blush of spring? (I'm remembering snow on the ground just two weeks ago!) With optimism and planning, yes?About the writing: While waiting for comments from beta readers (holding my breath), I've stepped away from writing, focusing instead on April's challenge to write a poem a day. Now, inspired by Anne R. Allen's newsletter/blog, I'm

Poem a Day 30: I Dare You . . .

When I was nine years old,or maybe ten,my mom, my sister, and mewent to live with my aunt.Everything seemed crazy. We didn't know, my sister and me,why we were there, on this small island,just outside Seattle, living in thistiny house with a crooked fireplaceand a winding path down to the beach.My two cousins greeted us with straight faces.Jimmy, the oldest at 12, walked usover to a group of

Poem a Day 29: X marks a spot . . .

X marks a spot on the map, perchance more than arriving at a destination, a meandering toward the end,really, a whole month of a form of meditation,writing poetry, trying to define the unknown,x-related, not x-rated,multi-directional, within, without, unexpectedly connecting to endless skiesand those I love, all as the earth turns,another day, another mark on the calendar,and, for now,

Poem a Day 28: Friends

Where are you this morning?Looking out over your garden with plans,a cup of hot tea ready to sip,crossword puzzle folded nearby for later?Early spring means those first weeds are shooting up next to bulbs now sprouting, sprigs of red, yellow, purple, all the flowers you have nurtured,and green everywhere,as if the deer won't notice.The days have finally turned warmer.Once again, we'll gather in