Cheryl Snell's Blog, page 19
December 12, 2011
Afterimage
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Extinguished light--
as if it is what it was, and not
the figure on the driveway edged
out of the picture, satchel in hand.
It's always the woman waving goodbye, isn't it.
She looks for a strategy against loss
and although it's too dark to see
a hand in front of a face
she drags hope to where light is
a non-essential, where the image,
lost and recovered so many times, can burn
through, where knowledge sketched in shadow
holds sway like the belief that
it could never have been otherwise.
December 5, 2011
The Best Book Sale I've Ever Seen
Until December 20, Writer's Lair Books is offering Shiva's Arms and other books absolutely FREE. You pay S&H, that's all. Season's Greetings!
December 4, 2011
December 3, 2011
December 1, 2011
November 30, 2011
Gleam
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Silver from an extinguished star--
as if it still is
what it was, and not
merely its ghost --
the way
old dreams taunt us
as we go over
and over the moment before the moment
that changed everything.
We look for a strategy against loss.
Though you can no longer see
my hand over your face, I drag hope
into a future where light is a non-essential:
and see now
it could never have been otherwise.
#2
HOW THE CHIPMUNK GOT THE STRIPES ON ITS BACK.
DO you all know the little striped chipmunk which lives in our woods? He has a cousin in far off India called the geloori.It is said the stripes came on the back of the geloori in a wonderful way.
One day the great Shiva saw a little gray chipmunk on the seashore.He was dipping his bushy tail into the sea, and shaking out the water on the shore.Twenty times a minute he dipped it into the ocean.
In wonder, Shiva said, "What are you doing, little foolish, gray, geloori? Why do you tire yourself with such hard labor?"
The geloori answered, "I cannot stop, great Shiva.The storm blew down the palm tree, where I built my nest. See! the tree has fallen seaward, and the nest lies in the water; my wife and pretty children are in it; I fear that it will float away. Therefore all day and all night I must dip the water from the sea. I hope soon to bale it dry.I must save my darlings even if I spoil my tail."
Shiva stooped and with his great hand stroked the little squirrel.
On the geloori's soft fur from his nose to the end of his tail, there came four green stripes! They were the marks of Shiva's fingers, placed there as signs of love.
Shiva raised his hand, and the water rolled back from the shore. Safe among the rocks and seaweeds, the palm tree lay on dry land.
The little squirrel hastened to it; his tail was now high in the air. He found his wife and children dry and well in their house of woven grass-blades.As they sang their welcomes to him, the geloori noticed with delight that each smooth little back was striped with marks of Shiva's fingers.
This sign of love is still to be seen upon the back of chipmunks.That is the reason why in India, good men never kill them.
A man who loves both children and chipmunks says, when he tells this story, "Perhaps our squirrels, though Shiva never stroked them, would be grateful if we left them, unharmed, to play in the maples in our woods." (from Project Gutenberg)
DO you all know the little striped chipmunk which lives in our woods? He has a cousin in far off India called the geloori.It is said the stripes came on the back of the geloori in a wonderful way.
One day the great Shiva saw a little gray chipmunk on the seashore.He was dipping his bushy tail into the sea, and shaking out the water on the shore.Twenty times a minute he dipped it into the ocean.
In wonder, Shiva said, "What are you doing, little foolish, gray, geloori? Why do you tire yourself with such hard labor?"
The geloori answered, "I cannot stop, great Shiva.The storm blew down the palm tree, where I built my nest. See! the tree has fallen seaward, and the nest lies in the water; my wife and pretty children are in it; I fear that it will float away. Therefore all day and all night I must dip the water from the sea. I hope soon to bale it dry.I must save my darlings even if I spoil my tail."
Shiva stooped and with his great hand stroked the little squirrel.
On the geloori's soft fur from his nose to the end of his tail, there came four green stripes! They were the marks of Shiva's fingers, placed there as signs of love.
Shiva raised his hand, and the water rolled back from the shore. Safe among the rocks and seaweeds, the palm tree lay on dry land.
The little squirrel hastened to it; his tail was now high in the air. He found his wife and children dry and well in their house of woven grass-blades.As they sang their welcomes to him, the geloori noticed with delight that each smooth little back was striped with marks of Shiva's fingers.
This sign of love is still to be seen upon the back of chipmunks.That is the reason why in India, good men never kill them.
A man who loves both children and chipmunks says, when he tells this story, "Perhaps our squirrels, though Shiva never stroked them, would be grateful if we left them, unharmed, to play in the maples in our woods." (from Project Gutenberg)
November 29, 2011
Seven Ways to Stay in the Writing Groove
Do the holidays have you worrying that you'll slip out of your creative groove? Here are a few tips I've found helpful:
1. Don't vamp for time: there is no perfect clutch of hours in which to write. Establish a schedule and stick to it. "Be regular and orderly in your life, so that you may be violent and original in your work," Flaubert told us. A corollary to this might be, "Don't wait around for inspiration to strike. It'll only hit you when you're at your desk."
2. If I didn't believe that writer's block was a hoax, I'd break it by switching genres. When I was composing my novel Shiva's Arms, I'd work on it until I stalled, then switch to Samsara, the poetry collection I was making at the same time. Similar themes (cultural identity, the meaning of home, metaphysical conflations of mortal and immortal) in both works made the overlap easy, and added a layered richness to each. And I never suffered whiplash.
3. Read widely and deeply. If you can take classes or workshops that are slightly over your head, do so. If not, when you read a novel, Flaubert's Sentimental Education, for example, also read criticism on the same book. In this case, I'd choose Pierre Bourdieu's Rules of Art.
4. Stay connected to your work. I carry a small notepad with me everywhere and let my mind wander to my work-in-progress while I'm doing other things. Joyce Carol Oates once said that housework helped her concentrate. Repetitive movement loosens thinking. Remember how your little nephew would spill all the family business the moment you put him on a swing? Resting my case…
5. Let your routines and rituals assist you. As soon as they stop helping, change them. Fickleness is its own reward! When I was younger I'd write after the house had been put to bed, when everything was quiet. I insisted I could think better surrounded by the dark. Now I do better with shorter writing stints throughout the day.
6. Utilize psychological distance. When you change your way of thinking about a character in concrete terms to abstract ones, new connections occur. You might develop empathy for an unlikeable character, and drive your story in a new direction, for instance. This happened to me with the mother-in-law, Amma, in Shiva's Arms.
7. At the end of the day, leave yourself hanging. If I stop writing in mid-sentence, I'm encouraged to plunge in at that spot the following day. No checking e-mail or fiddling with the lamp (or SAD light-box). Just me and the words, wrestling again.
1. Don't vamp for time: there is no perfect clutch of hours in which to write. Establish a schedule and stick to it. "Be regular and orderly in your life, so that you may be violent and original in your work," Flaubert told us. A corollary to this might be, "Don't wait around for inspiration to strike. It'll only hit you when you're at your desk."
2. If I didn't believe that writer's block was a hoax, I'd break it by switching genres. When I was composing my novel Shiva's Arms, I'd work on it until I stalled, then switch to Samsara, the poetry collection I was making at the same time. Similar themes (cultural identity, the meaning of home, metaphysical conflations of mortal and immortal) in both works made the overlap easy, and added a layered richness to each. And I never suffered whiplash.
3. Read widely and deeply. If you can take classes or workshops that are slightly over your head, do so. If not, when you read a novel, Flaubert's Sentimental Education, for example, also read criticism on the same book. In this case, I'd choose Pierre Bourdieu's Rules of Art.
4. Stay connected to your work. I carry a small notepad with me everywhere and let my mind wander to my work-in-progress while I'm doing other things. Joyce Carol Oates once said that housework helped her concentrate. Repetitive movement loosens thinking. Remember how your little nephew would spill all the family business the moment you put him on a swing? Resting my case…
5. Let your routines and rituals assist you. As soon as they stop helping, change them. Fickleness is its own reward! When I was younger I'd write after the house had been put to bed, when everything was quiet. I insisted I could think better surrounded by the dark. Now I do better with shorter writing stints throughout the day.
6. Utilize psychological distance. When you change your way of thinking about a character in concrete terms to abstract ones, new connections occur. You might develop empathy for an unlikeable character, and drive your story in a new direction, for instance. This happened to me with the mother-in-law, Amma, in Shiva's Arms.
7. At the end of the day, leave yourself hanging. If I stop writing in mid-sentence, I'm encouraged to plunge in at that spot the following day. No checking e-mail or fiddling with the lamp (or SAD light-box). Just me and the words, wrestling again.
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