Phyllis Anne Duncan (P. A. Duncan)'s Blog, page 53

AWP13 – Day One

I’m not eccentric enough to be a writer, I’ve decided. I have red hair, but not a bright enough red or magenta or maroon. I no longer have the legs to wear a multi-layered, tulle just-below-the-butt skirt accessorized with the tiger-stripe fish-net stockings and the unlaced combat boots. (Though I will say I’m wearing patterned knee-highs and crocs with my Lee jeans, and I did touch up my roots with a new shade of red with AWP in mind.)

Of course, there are plenty of conventional-looking writers around my age or older. So, I don’t know which is more dismaying–that I’m too old to be the writer who dresses in a way that makes avant-garde seem conventional or too young for the tweed jacket with elbow patches, corduroy slacks, and sensible shoes set.

But, it’s great to be surrounded by writers, to talk writer stuff, and even continuously answer the ubiquitous question, “What do you write?”

The first session of the day, “The Ten-Minute Play: The Essential Ingredients,” was the perfect follow-up to the play-writing workshop a couple of weekends ago put on by SWAG Writers. Panelists Gregory Fletcher, Jean Klein, and L. Elizabeth Powers gave us a lot of dos and don’ts, and I was happy to see that I didn’t commit many of the don’ts on the first draft of my ten-minute play I wrote last week. A sample of ten-minute play formatting and a list of places to submit ten-plays, and AWP13 kicked off perfectly.

And then it went south. The next panel was one of two must-sees on my carefully planned schedule: “Small Worlds–Flash, Sudden, and Other Very Short Fiction Internationally and at Home.” Even though all the sessions take place in the same building, I’ve discovered fifteen minutes to get from the end of one session to the beginning of another is only doable if you don’t have to pee. Even then, it’s touch and go, so when I arrived at the appointed room for “Small Worlds,” not only was every seat taken, but the SRO space was full. However, in the room next door, three times the size of the first, there were plenty of seats for “Being a Good Literary Citizen.”

Rob Spillman moderated authors Alan Heathcock and Matthew Specktor, bookseller Emma Stoub, and agent Julie Barer as they discussed how to get your greater community involved with your writing community and how to be a “mannerly” author during book events and with your agent. Frankly, I found this a little preachy on the book event and agent side, and I was far more interested in how Heathcock got people in Boise, ID, to pay $35 a person to come to his writer group’s readings.

I decided to opt out of “The First Five Pages: Literary Agents and Editors Talk” because I’ve been to many versions of this in the past couple of years. I had lunch instead then went to “Launching the Literary Journal: New Editors Confess.” The editors (Graham Hilliard, John Gosslee, Jarrett Haley, and Patrick Sugrue) of four relatively new literary magazines (Cumberland River Review, Fjords Review, Bull Men’s Fiction, and Bellow, respectively) talked about how their publications got started. Two of the four had nothing better to do (their words), one wanted to showcase his college, and one wanted a publication for a niche market. A very interesting discussion about submissions, and of the four I liked the editor and the concept of Bellow, which is produced through CreateSpace, a highly unique production process for a literary magazine.

“Women Writers in the Contemporary Literary Landscape” was a wonderful discussion among three writers (two prose, one poetry) who don’t write “typical” women’s fiction or poetry. Susan Steinberg, Fiona Maazel, and Mary Jo Bang all discussed the stereotypes women authors encounter even today. A great Q&A session, and for the men at AWP who’ve been complaining on Twitter that there are twenty-three panels on women’s literary issues and only one on men’s issues, let me just remind you you’ve dominated literature for, oh, the past two millennia, so hush.

I wanted to close the regular day with “Bending Genres,” my other “must see” panel, but it was another SRO event, so I prowled the AWP Bookfair and talked to a couple of MFA programs because that still comes to the forefront of my brain on occasion; then, dinner and a bit of a rest before the keynote speakers, not one but two Nobel Laureates.

I’m aware of the poet Derek Walcott, who won the Nobel in Literature in 1992, but not to the extent that I know Seamus Heaney, a Nobelist in 1995. Both read two of their poems, which was a delight, but to see Heaney in person, to hear his voice in person, transported me. All too soon it was over. Walcott and Heaney wanted to take questions, but the moderator pointed out, with 12,000 of us, there were “too many people.”

Tomorrow the plan is this:

0900 – 1015     Purpose and the Practical in Historical Writing

1030 – 1145      Art of the Ending

Lunch with some writer friends, plus attending a friend’s book signing

1500 – 1615      Story Autopsy: How I Wrote a Novel in Three Days and Then Adapted It into a Movie

1630 – 1545     Style and Story: Balancing Form and Content in the Short Story

Let’s hope the best laid plans of mice and writers don’t gang awry.

AWP – Arrival

My arrival at AWP began about 1400 yesterday afternoon when I pointed my trusty Jeep northeastward and headed for Washington, DC’s Union Station. I made a brief detour into my old neighborhood to “my” Barnes and Noble for a chai and a snack. And to get in practice for AWP’s Bookfair, I bought two books. Around six I discovered I can still deal with DC’s rush hour traffic and made it to Union Station in about a half-hour.

Which meant a three and a half hour wait for the train to depart, but Union Station is primo for people watching. And apparently I must look like a nice person. Every beggar in the place asked me for money.

The snow-apocalypse hadn’t yet started when the train pulled out at 2210, and I had already finished one of the books I bought at B&N. I settled in to catch a nap–not so easy when the conductor announces every stop along the way–but I managed to get about five hours of sleep overnight in a series of naps. I woke to a beautiful sunrise near Mystic, CT, and I got a little artistic with the photo I snapped in Instagram (below, left).

Sunrise east of Mystic, CT.

Boston, MA

The train arrived in Boston a bit early, there was a cab waiting right away, and, lo and behold, there was actually a room ready for me with a great view of Boston (right).

 

My regular Politics Wednesday blog post, lunch (chowdah, my absolute fave!), and a nap later, and I was ready to pick up my registration materials for the conference. Just me and a couple hundred others.

Now, the good news is a sky-walk connects the hotel and the Hynes Convention Center, the location of the AWP Conference–no treks through Boston’s notoriously chilly and windy weather. The bad news? You go through a really, really great shopping mall to get there. (I have my eye on a set of Russian matryoshka dolls, and there’s a Vera Bradley store.) Very tempting.

I’d already looked at the conference schedule on-line, and, as usual, AWP offers a bounty of panels and reading, and I spent at least an hour figuring out my schedule for the next three days, only to discover I’d left no time for lunch. Oh, well.

Here’s what’s up for tomorrow:

0900 – 1015     The Ten-Minute Play: The Essential Ingredients

1030 – 1145      Small Worlds–Flash, Sudden, & Other Very Short Fiction Internationally and at Home

1200 – 1315     The First Five Pages: Literary Agents & Editors Talk

1330 – 1445     Launching the Literary Journal: New Editors Confess

1500 – 1615     Women Writers in the Contemporary Literary Landscape

1630 – 1745     Bending Genre

2030 – 2200   Keynote Presentation: A Conversation Between Seamus Heaney and Derek Walcott

A full day–but I can’t wait.

Like a Lion, After All

It’s snowmageddon time on the east coast again. Starting Tuesday night through Wednesday night, we should expect five-plus inches, twelve inches, or “substantial accumulation” of snow, depending upon which weather prognosticator you hear. Normally, I’d just hunker down with my DVDs and books and MacBook and shelter-in-place until it’s all over. And frankly, we’ve had these predictions several times this winter, and in my section of the Shenandoah Valley we’ve had a total of maybe two inches of snow.

Which could mean we’ll get walloped on Tuesday night.

Here’s the rub. I’m due to hop on a train Wednesday night to go to Boston for AWP (the Association of Writers and Writing Programs annual conference). The “snow event” should be over by the time my train leaves, but getting to Union Station in Washington, DC, on Wednesday, during the day’s snowpacalypse, could be the issue. I have a four-wheel drive vehicle, but when VADOT urges you three days before the storm to stay off the roads, you get a little worried.

I already know of several writer friends who have moved up their arrival to Boston–traveling on Tuesday instead of Wednesday–and that’s probably what I’ll do.

The non-writer might ask, why go to all the trouble? Stay home. Hunker down. Watch the pretty snowfall. Don’t risk it. Don’t disrupt your schedule.

In my previous blog posts after attending a writers conference or workshop, I’ve tried to convey just how motivating they can be. You learn something (a lot, actually), you network with other writers, you get exposed to publications and publishers, and you’re immersed twenty-four hours a day in all things literary. Writers conferences are like a Star Trek convention for book nerds, minus the filk sing and the costumes of your favorite Klingon. (Oh, yes, that collective, horrified gasp you heard was the literati expressing dismay at a pop-culture comparison.)

So, pardon me for the shortness of this post. I need to go stop the newspapers, change reservations, pay bills, and pack–and probably several other things I’ll forget until I’m in Boston. But then, the fun begins.

Friday Fictioneers – In Like a Lion?

It’s the first day of March, which is the first day of meteorological spring, and at least in my part of the world, it hasn’t come in like a lion. However, there were snow flurries last night. Welcome to the world of climate change.

But coming in like a lion is today’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt. As you’ll see it’s unusual, but certainly thought-provoking. I can’t wait to read other Friday Fictioneers’ creations.

Early March does mean the AWP Conference. (AWP is the Association of Writers and Writing Programs.) This year it’s in Boston, MA, one of my favorite U.S. cities, and, like Chicago last year, I’ll be among 10,000 other writers. Since I’ve made a nice group of writer friends on-line, from conferences and workshops, and from AWP last year, it’ll be a great time for a reunion, not to mention some chowdah!

Next Friday will be the peak of the conference, so I hope I can find some time for Friday Fictioneers. It’s a tradition now, and who likes change anyway?

Today’s story is “Eye of the Beholder,” and if you don’t see the link on the title, scroll to the top of the page, click on the Friday Fictioneers tab, and select the title from the drop-down menu.

Oh, and back to the stretching yourself as a writer I posted about on Monday? Today’s offering is another first for me–young adult.

Leaving the Comfort Zone

One of the most appealing aspects of being a writer is stretching yourself, taking your writing to the next level or trying something you never thought you’d try. For instance, I thought I could never write science fiction, but my first published short story was a sci-fi tale. I never thought I could write a poem, but I have. I could never imagine standing up in front of strangers and reading my work, but my writing group, SWAG Writers, provided a comfortable atmosphere for that.

In high school and when I studied literature in college, I loved plays. I’ve read each of Shakespeare’s plays, at least those in the canon, though that was a long time ago. Before I ever saw the movie “The Lion in Winter,” I had read James Goldman’s play over and over. Living in the boonies meant the visits to theaters to see a play performed were rare, but I had a great high school English teacher who would loan me plays to read. The writers of those plays took me to places beyond my imagination, but though I’d already begun to write fledgling stories, I never thought I could ever write a play.

Let’s face it, as writers we sometimes get a bit comfortable in whatever genre in which we do most of our writing. Particularly if you’ve had a bit (or a lot) of success writing, say, young adult paranormal romance novels, you might be hesitant to try something new. That would involve a new start, and after a hard-scrabble climb in one aspect of writing, why would you subject yourself to something that might not be successful? We can’t all be J.K. Rowling, after all. I know, even with my very limited success, I certainly feel more comfortable working on full-length novels and the occasional short story or piece of flash.

Then along came Chris Gavaler, Assistant Professor of English at Washington and Lee University, just down the road from me in Lexington, VA. Gavaler’s page on the W&L web site is a litany of awards and accolades, but his list of one-act and ten-minutes plays made him the perfect instructor for the first, I hope of many, workshop given by SWAG Writers.

This past Saturday, nine writers–ranging from genre and literary fiction writers, poets, children’s book writers, and an aspiring writer in the form of a local high school student–sat down with Galaver for a four-hour Playwriting Workshop. Galaver dispensed with the trivia–”You can find out how to format a play on-line”–and got down to the details with practical exercises.

To begin with, we had to jot down a character, an obstacle, and a location, then Galaver picked and chose from them. He divided us into groups, and we had to develop a few minutes of dialogue based on those scant details. Daunting, but once we finished and read our effort aloud, we were amazed at how something coherent had emerged. The key, though, was how we first discussed the unseen back story, and once we had that, the dialogue just flowed. “See,” Galaver said, “you just wrote a play!”

Galaver covered the aspects of external and internal conflict and how to create them, and establishing obstacles, reversals, and resolution, but, again, with practical application, not lecture. His classes at W&L must be amazing to attend. He concluded the class with a brief Q&A session which boiled down to, “Okay, I’ve Written a Play; Now What?” Even that was practical, and who knew how many local organizations were looking for ten-minute or one-act plays?

All in all, SWAG’s very first workshop was a resounding success, and, at $40, a bargain for all that we learned. The time flew by, but, as my Irish grandmother would say, “Learnin’ got done.” So, I’ll step from my comfort zone, stretch a little more, and try playwriting, thanks to Chris Galaver and SWAG.

Friday Fictioneers – Almost Recovered

I think my cold is finally on its way out. How, you say, do I know that? Well, I took one look at today’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt, and I went directly to the dark side. That shows my brain is finally firing most of its neurons.

Today’s offering may or may not be a zombie apocalypse story–I’ll leave that up to you. It may or may not take place in the near future–I’ll leave that up to you, as well.

What I do know was it was gratifying to be able to conceive of something and have it come to me almost instantly–and with no nose-blowing or coughing interruptions. [Knocks on wood.]

The story is “Death Throes,” and, as usual, if you don’t see the link on the title, scroll to the Friday Fictioneers tab at the top of the page, hover your cursor over it, then select the story from the drop-down list.

Roanoke Regional Writers Conference – The Finale!

After a great lunch–I discovered during Tinker Mountain last year, Hollins has a wonderful cafeteria–we settled in for the Roanoke Regional Writers Conference afternoon sessions. First up, we could choose from “Experiences and Options in Self-Publishing,” by Michael Abraham; “The Diverse Ways Writers Manipulate Time on the Page,” by Jim Minick; “Structuring Song,” by Greg Trafidlo (who bills himself as a “troubadour”–how cool is that?); and “Writing Dark Fantasy and Horror for Young Adults,” by Tiffany Trent.

I went to Jim Minick’s workshop. He and I were at Tinker Mountain together, and he had been a guest reader at SWAG last year. His wonderful memoir, The Blueberry Years, was a delight to read, and he now teaches at Radford. His workshop got us to look at ways we convey time in our writing, on the macro and micro levels, but he emphasized that we have to keep the reader’s perception of time in mind. The reader experiences our writing in real-time as he or she reads it, but we control the pace. How we break a work into chapters or scenes (macro level), the sentence length and type of punctuation we use (micro level) all determine the pace for the reader. This is all unconscious on the reader’s part but very conscious on the writer’s part. We speed up or slow down using dialogue or the choice of specific verbs. “You are gods,” Minick told us. “Every word choice, sentence length, etc., creates a world.” Minick also suggested a time-honored way to check how you’ve used time–read your work aloud. A great workshop, and it would certainly be great luck to be one of his students.

The mid-afternoon sessions were “Understand Your Publishing Options Before Your Manuscript is Finished,” by Teri Leidich; “Visual Images as the Source of Stories,” by Carrie Brown; and “Telling Stories,” by Dan Casey.

I went to Casey’s workshop because he is a journalist and editor of a local paper in Roanoke, and journalists, not to mention those from an Irish background, are the best story tellers. Casey’s method of workshopping is to demonstrate by action–he told story after story, and in so doing taught us about chronology and setting, how to inject humor and suspense, and showing not telling. The latter is particularly interesting in the telling of the story, but he managed to do it. He reminded me of the times I spent with my Irish grandmother listening to her spin tales; she’d tell the same ones over and over, but with each telling she showed me something different. Casey bore that out when he emphasized that when we revise and edit, we are telling the story over and over until it’s the right one.

The final workshops of the day were “The Craft of the Art,” by Amanda Cockrell, who is also a professor in Hollins’ writing program; “Developing Ideas That Publishers Will Buy,” by Roland Lazenby; and “Selling Your Young Adult Novel 101,” by Angie Smibert.

“The Craft of the Art” workshop was a condensation of a semester-long course Cockrell gives at Hollins, and frankly it would be worth auditing, if that were possible. Through a series of interactive, workshop exercises Cockrell emphasized that the typical aspects of a story (POV, setting, characters, etc.) comprise a toolbox we should draw from and that we should use the right tool at the right point in the story.

Cockrell had us spend five minutes writing down our earliest memory as a way to delve into our own subconscious. Several participants read theirs aloud, and I was surprised at how much detail I could recall about my earliest memory when I got quiet and thought about it.

The next exercise was to write the letters of the alphabet in a vertical column then write a vignette about something that starts with that letter. Again, a few people read their vignettes, but Cockrell made us promise to finish the exercise on our own or use it as a way to overcome writer’s block. “You may be surprised,” she said, “to find you’ll end up working bits of this exercise into a story you’re writing. Everything we write comes from somewhere in us, of our knowledge of other humans.” Cockrell noted that the things most people read aloud came from their childhood or teenaged years. “We draw from childhood,” she said, “because it’s new and from our adolescence because it’s tense.”

The final exercise Cockrell offered was to have us draw a picture of the childhood bedroom we spent the most time in, and that was quite the challenge to recall. As the minutes went on, though, I found I recalled more and more detail, including the spot where I started writing stories at my desk and in, first, spiral notebooks then on a manual typewriter. Great fun and very instructive.

The final session of the day was a panel on the future of blogging. Unfortunately, I opted out of that because yet another snow-maggeddon loomed, and I wanted to get home without driving in the dark in a snowstorm.

Overall, my first experience with the Roanoke Regional Writers Conference was a very positive one. There was a lot of depth and breadth in the workshops, and in many cases it was difficult to choose which one to attend. The presenters were all excellent, and I took away useful advice and plenty of writing tips. I think this will become a regular conference for me, and I’d recommend it whether you’re in Virginia or not.

 

Roanoke Regional Writers Conference – Part Two

On Saturday, after the great Friday evening social hour and opening events, we got down to the nitty-gritty. The first session started at 0830, and there were three possibilities to choose from: “Ten Things You Can Do Now to Promote the Book You Haven’t Even Sold Yet,” presented by Gina Holmes and River Laker; “Why New Media Changes the Way We Write and What We Can Do About It,” presented by Bill Kovarik from Radford University; and “Writing Cookbooks,” by Waynesboro, VA, author Mollie Cox Bryan.

I chose Kovarik’s presentation on New Media, which was a brief primer on social media. We introduced ourselves and told how involved we were in social media, which ones we used, etc. I was surprised by the number of people much younger than I who were terrified or who lacked knowledge of Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, etc. So much for the Gen-Xers and Millennials who are supposedly the most cyber-smart of us all. Kovarik did a fascinating measurement of the number of monks it would take to produce the amount of information moved about in one day on the Internet. He used monks because they were the ones who first delved in media by reproducing by hand the Bible and other, then-rare books. Basically, it would take billions and billions (sorry, Carl Sagan) of monks to generate the information we have access to today, but it was a fascinating way to show how media have grown over a couple of millennia.

We got into a debate about whether we, as writers, adapt to technology or whether it adapts to us and concluded it was probably a little of both, but Kovarik got the point across that today’s social media “has changed the way we write, publish, and promote,” and that we definitely need to adapt to media as they evolve.

The second morning session offered “Refining the Pitch for Your Book,” presented by Neil Sagebiel; “Writing Humor,” presented by Michael Miller; “Legal Protections for Writers,” presented by Roanoke attorney Erin Ashwell; and “The No B. S. Guide to Networking,” presented by Sarah Beth Jones, a freelance writer.

Because I’m in the process of developing a query letter to obtain an agent, I opted for “Refining the Pitch for Your Book.” This was perhaps the only disappointment for the conference. The conference brochure clearly said, “Refining the Pitch for Your Book,” but the presentation itself was “Refining the Pitch for Your Non-Fiction Book.” And the presenter noted the process was somewhat different, namely when you’re pitching a non-fiction book, it doesn’t really have to be completed. The agent bases his or her decision on  a lengthy and detailed proposal. Why didn’t I leave? Well, climbing over a row of people in an auditorium would have been too obvious, and Sagebiel had an interesting story to tell of how he turned his love of golf into a best-selling book about a little-known but significant event in golf history.

In the third and final morning session, we could choose from “Marketing Your Own Work,” presented by Kathleen Grissom; “Self-Publishing How and Why,” presented by Brooke McGlothlin; “Memoir: What’s So Important about Your Life?” presented by Judy Ayylidiz; and “Making Your Photos Better,” presented by Christina Koomen.

I’d enjoyed Grissom’s keynote address from the evening before, I attended her session. Grissom indicated after she finished a draft of her novel, The Kitchen House, she set out to understand “the business of publishing.” Through trial and error, she learned that one of the most important aspects of that business is “don’t send a manuscript out too soon,” which she sees as the reason for all her early rejections. By chance she encountered another writer in the town where she lived, and that writer became her mentor, assisting her with a re-write and a second, successful agent-querying round.

However, Grissom may have a leg up on the rest of us: She had previously worked in marketing and promotion and had built a career doing that. She did, though, explain to us how she took that knowledge and applied it to marketing and promoting her book. For example, once she developed a list of bloggers who reviewed books, she familiarized herself with the blogs, contacted the blogger directly and sent review copies, then followed up. When she got a review, she sent a thank-you to the reviewer, whether it was a good review or not, and she followed any comments on the review–and responded to them.

Grissom also made personal contact with independent book stores and libraries within a three-hour drive of where she lived, i.e., she went to those places and gave a copy of her book, then set up a reading or signing event on the spot. She also emphasized the use of social media– “Make sure each book has its own Facebook page”–and drove home the importance of positive interaction with commenters on social media.

Yes, a busy morning with lots of note-taking, discussion, and great ideas. In Part Three, we’ll move on to the equally busy afternoon sessions.

Roanoke Regional Writers Conference – Part One

Yes, this writers conference was two weeks ago, but when a cold puts you low, low you are. This small, regional conference was such a positive experience, I decided to rise from my sickbed and finally give it its due.

Okay, that was way dramatic–too much Downton Abbey. Being sick meant I watched all three seasons in two days, so I’m overly influenced.

The Roanoke Regional Writers Conference had been planned for the final weekend of January, but a snowpacalypse (which never arrived) forced a one-week postponement. So, we gathered the evening of February 1 for a writer meet-and-greet. You know, this is where you approach, or are approached by, complete strangers with the question, “What do you write?”

An aside here–I was almost the only attendee NOT writing YA paranormal romance. There may or may not be a lesson in that.

After the meet-and-greet and some great writerly conversations, we had the opening session for the Sixth Annual Roanoke Regional Writers Conference, the fifth sell-out in a row. Hollins University, whose writing program has earned it the nickname “Pulitzer U,” was the host, and probably the most encouraging words came from Hollins’ current Writer in Residence, Karen Osborn (author of Centerville), who spoke on “Working in a Changing Publishing Environment.”

Osborn said, “Getting published has always been difficult, but failure to publish is not a marker of your work’s value.” And after that garnered a loud round of applause, she added, “Publishers are most interested in selling books, but they seldom know what will actually sell.” She reminded us that traditional publishers are focused on the bottom line, but she didn’t discourage. “If your agent won’t send out your book, send it out yourself,” she advised and emphasized university and small presses. Osborn believes we have more options than ever before for publication, ones which allow us to take more control of our work, but, she said, “Believing in the work is the most important step.”

The evening’s keynote address came from Kathy Grissom, author of The Kitchen House, and her topic was “Becoming a Writer.” Grissom was a perfect candidate for this topic because, as she admitted, she never intended to become a writer. “Writing,” she said, “was something only extraordinary people could do.” She learned through inspiration that writers are “ordinary people who write extraordinary things.” Grissom outlined her writer’s journey, from poetry and journaling to being inspired by an unusual event in her life. The inspiration led to research, and a chance conversation with her father led her to a “story I knew I had to tell.” The result was The Kitchen House, a novel about a young Irish orphan who finds her real family among the slaves of a southern plantation. Now, Grissom says, “My job is writing.”

We were treated to a song written by Greg Trafidlo especially for the conference, and the chorus said it all, “You have to sit on your butt and write.” We also participated in the presentation of scholarships from Hollins to “non-traditional” students, women who have returned to school after a break for marriage or children. The Horizon scholarships are funded by the faculty for the conference, who forego being paid to endow the scholarships. Applicants have to write an essay on why they want to return to school, and the scholarships are billed as “recognition of writers by writers.” The recipients are students in Hollins’ writing program, and this was an uplifting way to end an evening of writerly discourse.

Next Post – Day Two–Down to the Nitty Gritty

Friday Fictioneers–Cure for the Common Cold?

The common cold is uncommon in its inconvenience. Nothing will put it off when it’s determined to put you low, and this week it won the sparring match we’d been having for the previous several days. And “put me low” was apt; I barely lifted my head from the pillow for three days. Monday’s usual writing blog post? No way. Wednesday’s usual political blog post? Nope. I didn’t even have the energy to look at David Stewart’s wonderful photo until Thursday evening.

But I wasn’t going to let rhinopharyngitis keep me from Friday Fictioneers. Not to be too descriptive, but I settled in this morning with my ubiquitous glass of water (fluids, you know) and box of tissues (I’m on my fourth one) and studied the incredible sculpture in David’s photo. It reminded me of a sculpture I saw frequently when I worked in Washington, DC, The Awakening. The Awakening once graced Haines Point in DC, but when a dispute arose between the artist and the U.S. Park Service over maintenance, the sculpture moved to the new National Harbor complex south of DC, where the I-95/I-495 bridge links Virginia and Maryland.

Both sculptures are evocative, but today’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt was somehow eerier and had a more visceral impact. The result is “Suzuki Method.” The concept that dawned is far better than the result my cold-addled brain produced, but, hey, it’s the first writing I’ve done all week. And that says a lot.

As usual, if you don’t see the link on the title above, go the the Friday Fictioneers tab at the top of this post, click on it, and select the story from the drop-down list.