Emilie Richards's Blog, page 123

Sunday Poetry: To See the Cherry Hung with Snow

Welcome to Sunday Poetry.   If this is your first visit you can read about the purpose and inspiration of my Sunday poetry blogs here.

This is probably our last spring as residents of the Washington DC area, and I'll confess that I'll miss this season the most.  Spring in DC is a parade of blossoms, but this year, the show has been more like a fireworks display, a burst of color ending quickly, but oh, those glorious moments. 

Looking at this photo of my husband and me at the Tidal Basin a few years ago, I remember how cold the day was, and how windy, nothing like this year's unusually warm weather.  Right now, and for the first time I can remember, everything seems to be blooming at once.  Dogwoods with daffodils are normally unheard of.  Cherry trees bloomed about two weeks earlier than predicted, and our neighbor's tree is already dropping petals.  But what a sight to see our area garbed in its entire spring wardrobe,  like a lady who can't decide which Easter dress or hat to wear, so she dons them all.

Today's poem is in the public domain and I can print it here for you to enjoy.  I discovered this one at the Poetry Foundation website, and to learn more about the poet A.E. Housman, follow this link to that site. 

What do you want to view each year in whatever years are yours to enjoy?

A Shropshire Lad II: Loveliest of Trees, the Cherry Now

by A.E. Housman

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.
 
Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.
 
And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow
 
Remember there are no quizzes here, no right ways to read or contemplate the poem we share.  Absolutely no dissecting allowed.  Just come along for the "read."  What line, word or thought will you carry with you this week?  If you'd like to tell us where the poem took you?  We'll listen.

Lists: Packing for Life

I love to fantasize.  You probably knew that.  Last night when I should have been sleeping I began making a list of everything I ought to pack on two upcoming trips.  Honestly, who cares?  But I did, at about 2 AM.  Then as I began to make my list, I thought of you.  What fun to find out what you can't live without when  you travel, no matter how small the suitcase.

This morning as the idea formed in a fully conscious brain I realized some of the things I would always take with me on trips are also things I need for life.  Period.  And that sounded like even more fun to blog about.

So today's list?  You're about to be born to a family here on earth, and you can pack a few things you will have with you all through your life.  What will serve you best?

Just tell us by commenting here–and not on my pages at Facebook or Goodreads, since it's too easy to lose track of entries.  Remember that I give away an autographed book each month, and if you comment on any of that month's "list posts" then you'll be entered in the giveaway.  It's that simple. 

Lists: Packing for Life

1–A sense of humor, because without this, life can be overwhelmingly sad

2–An appreciation of beauty, because without this, life will seem ordinary and plain

3–A sensitivity to the feelings of those around me, because without this, life will be lonely

4–A desire to help others, because without this, it's impossible to make any lasting, meaningful connections

5–An understanding and appreciation of my own talents, because without this, I might not find the courage to explore them.

Now it's your turn.  What will you pack?  You don't have to list five.  Just share your thoughts and enjoy.

The Day I Fell For Horatio Alger or My Introduction to the Study of Popular Culture

Somewhere during the first trimester of my sophomore year in college, I realized I was signed up for the wrong major.  I was in music education, and observing just one high school music class was like having a bucket of ice water dumped over my head.  Me, standing in front of those kids?  Trying to teach them something about music? 

I changed to music therapy immediately, but I found myself yearning for a wider education.  There were so many things I wanted to know about, and the music program was so extensive we were restricted to few electives.  So, at the end of the year, I transferred to American Studies, a major which by itself is nearly as useless as my Masters degree in Family Development–unless you happen to write novels about families set primarily in the United States, in which case both choices were brilliant. 

In my first trimester of American Studies I immediately registered for Pop Lit 101, fondly known as Trash Lit.  I was enthralled.  What a terrific idea.  Study a society through it's popular literature.  Find out how morals, beliefs, opinions, are either influenced by popular culture or the force behind it.  I began reading the books on the syllabus and immediately fell in love.  Horatio Alger was a favorite.  All those plucky boys, pulling themselves up by their bootstraps.  It's no wonder that even today, the old copy of Dan the Newsboy on my bookshelf refuses to be given away. 

Fast forward to this morning.  As I was heaving my old edited manuscripts in the recycling bin after carrying them from house to house for years, I realized I just  didn't feel comfortable.  Surely these were worth something to somebody.  My agent had suggested the Popular Culture Library of Bowling Green State University in Ohio.  My son was a BGSU grad, and I lived in Ohio for a dozen years.  So on a whim I called them.  Yes, not only do they want my manuscripts, but all the research I did, including a box of books I shipped home from Australia that I am particularly loathe to toss.  Some of those books are rare, although probably not valuable, and now they will have a home.  I'm delighted.

The Brown Popular Culture Library is dedicated to the acquisition and preservation of research materials on American popular culture (post 1876), and it is the most comprehensive repository of its kind in the United States.  In addition to their print collection, they have manuscripts in the genres of mystery, romance, science fiction, popular entertainment, history of popular culture, and more.  My manuscripts and everything else I include will go into storage, where I can still access them if need be, and more important, where scholars can access them.

I love the idea of my manuscripts sitting, side by side, in a climate controlled facility for years to come, my characters chatting away in the darkness.  Sometimes things just turn out the way they should.

Sunday Poetry: A Crocus Shooting Up A Purple Hand

Welcome to Sunday Poetry.   If this is your first visit you can read about the purpose and inspiration of my Sunday poetry blogs here.

It's March, and while much of the United States has seen unseasonably warm weather, we're still hoping and waiting for spring to emphatically arrive, no maybe yes and maybe no, but right here at our doorsteps, with no turning back.

When I discovered Revival, by Luci Shaw, I knew you would appreciate it as much as I do.  Spring as resurrection in progress.  This one is simply to breathe in and enjoy.

Remember there are no quizzes here, no right ways to read or contemplate the poem we share.  Absolutely no dissecting allowed.  Just come along for the "read."  What line, word or thought will you carry with you this week?  If you'd like to tell us where the poem took you?  We'll listen.

Choosing Asheville

Do you ever wonder how a novelist chooses a setting?  Me, too.  Really.  Because the entire world is open to us, and sometimes all those choices can be daunting.

When the time came two years ago to begin planning a new series, I had all the usual options.

Should I use a real town (like Toms Brook, Virginia, in my Shenandoah Album series) or a fictional town (like Palmetto Grove, Florida, in my Happiness Key novels.)  Sometimes, of course, what I decide hardly matters.  I can't tell you the number of times I've seen Whiskey Island (of my book with the same title) referred to as a fictional peninsula in Lake Erie.  For the record, it's real. 

Should I write about a city I know well, or one that would require constant research?  Not as easy as it sounds.  Someone well acquainted with a place may not notice how fascinating the details he or she takes for granted might be to readers.

Should I write about a place so colorful it almost becomes a character in my novel, or a place that recedes into the background?

Should I choose a place with many different kinds of people, or one whose characters will come from a similar background and outlook?

As you can imagine, I gave this a lot of thought.  One of my brainstorming friends suggested Asheville, North Carolina, and I tussled with myself.  I know Asheville fairly well, but not perfectly.  I have a son there, own a house there, visit there regularly.  I've spent many summers in Highlands, not far away, and understand much about mountain culture from those years and an earlier year as a VISTA volunteer in the Arkansas Ozarks. 

On the minus side?  Asheville is so rich in its own unique culture, that I'll never quite be an insider.  On the plus side, what I witness, I pay close attention to, because it's new to me, and absorbing because it is.

On the minus side again?  Asheville is easily recognizable.  As a novelist I'll be forced to change things to suit myself.  Real restaurants will rub up against fictional ones, for instance. If I need a park with certain playground equipment, I'll need to make it up.  And when we mix fact with fiction, readers sometimes confuse fiction with mistakes. 

In the end, though, how could I resist?  If you need convincing, too, just watch the irresistible video above.  The Spirit of Asheville, produced by exploreasheville.com, says it all.  I think you'll see the rich potential for background that I did, and beginning in August, I hope you'll be glad to share and explore with me, this unusual, vibrant city in the heart of the Blue Ridge.

CHUSday: What Do Your Cookbooks Say About You?

We're having company to dinner.  Four friends we traveled wtih to Guatemala several years ago are coming to eat my homemade tortillas with all the (vegetarian) fixings.  Along with this I've made Cuban black beans and brown rice.  You can't serve this meal to just anyone, but these friends?  You bet.  In exchange, they're bringing photos of a recent trip they took to Africa.  A good evening ahead, particularly since Michael's just made Thin Mint ice cream to top off the meal.

To ready the house, Michael and I continued our "we-will-be-moving-why-do-we-have-all-this-junk" rampage.  Somehow I got suckered into going through my cookbooks.  We will live in two places once we move, so some are to go north and some are to go south.  Choosing which was the easy part.  Then came the inevitable "these-cookbooks-shouldn't-go-anywhere" moment.  And there were many that fit that description.

Wouldn't you expect that part to be tough?  After all, if the cookbooks had taken up valuable room on my kitchen shelves all these years, of course they were worthwhile.  And hadn't I hosted CHUsday here, nudging all of us to make recipes from cookbooks we hadn't used in, say, forever? 

So what a surprise to discover that I owned not just wonderful, "I-will-use-you-someday-I-promise" cookbooks, I still had far too many "I-would-not-cook-anything-in-this-cookbook-ever-again" cookbooks.  Lots of them.  An entire box, in fact.

Even more surprising was the way the cookbooks mirrored my personal and culinary history.  How about the one with stories about a young woman's adventure exploring 1960s communes and getting recipes from each?  Couldn't toss.  I did, after all, spend two years in Berkeley, California in the early 1970s, so I also kept Moosewood and it's Tassajara buddies, too.  Ah, the memories.  Then there was a set of Better Homes and Gardens basic cookbooks, none of which had been opened in years.  Browsing through them, I understood why.  Out they went.  We think differently about food now.  These were relics.

How many crockpot cookbooks does one family need?  Particularly a family that doesn't often eat meat?  And three bread machine cookbooks.  Really?  I haven't owned a bread machine since I started baking bread the old-fashioned way several years ago.  Muffins?  Waffles?  French county cooking?  And all those collections from charities or causes I can't even remember.  Some stayed, some left.   One of my favorites, from the New Orleans Junior League, will forever be enshrined in my personal cookbook hall of fame.  Michael, be warned, don't touch this one.

These days we cook with fresh ingredients, little if any meat, lots of whole grains, plenty of herbs and spices, and olive oil.  Shortening?  What's that?  Butter, just a dot, not a stick.   I was surprised and pleased at how many cookbooks and food habits I've left behind, and how many great recipes I still have to try.

So, if you're ready for a quick personal growth inventory, you might look through your cookbooks, as well.  The memories are great, but the recipes may not be.  I bet, like me, you'll find that you and your tastes have changed.  Let us know how.

 

Sunday Poetry: Reading Away from Ourselves

Welcome to Sunday Poetry.   If this is your first visit you can read about the purpose and inspiration of my Sunday poetry blogs here.

This week and last I've blogged about old books, so today's poem is an ode to books written by Billy Collins, the poet who convinced me, after a lecture at Chautauqua Institution two years ago, that I needed to rethink my disinterest in poetry.  From that lecture came this weekly blog and a  year long journey.  

In a side note about that journey?  Recently when the name of a presenters at an upcoming writer's workshop jumped out at me, I realized just how much I've learned since we began here together.  I posted Martin Espada's poem Who Burns for the Perfection of Paper some time ago, and it's still one of my very favorites.  I would never have read the poem or known him as a poet, were it not for Sunday Poetry. In the next year I look forward to learning much, much more.

Simply called Books, there's nothing simple about today's Billy Collins poem.  What part of your life has revolved around books?  How have they changed you?  Have you experienced the "endless, paneled rooms?"

Remember there are no quizzes here, no right ways to read or contemplate the poem we share.  Absolutely no dissecting allowed.  Just come along for the "read."  What line, word or thought will you carry with you this week?  If you'd like to tell us where the poem took you?  We'll listen.

Lists: The Tyranny of Cell Phones

Remember lists?  That's right.  It's time for a new entry.  Read about my list posts here, then comment and add your own thoughts to this one and any others coming up.  At the end of the month Random.org will choose a winner from everyone who added to a March list to receive an autographed novel.   Remember, please stay away from politics, religion and general snarkiness.  This is not the evening news. 

Cell phones.  They're everywhere, aren't they?  Maybe they shouldn't be.  Let's list all the places cell phones don't belong.  Remember, keep it clean.

Places and Times to Keep Your Cell Phone in Your Pocket:

1:  On dates.  I don't know how many times I've seen a young couple sitting together at a restaurant and one of them is talking on a cell phone to somebody else.  Usually for a majority of the meal. 

2: When you're having an evening out with your children.  Of course if the people above actually marry, there may not be enough private moments to worry about creating a family, but just in case. . .  Nothing's sadder to me than watching a child sitting at a table with a parent who'd rather talk to somebody else.

3:  While pushing a baby stroller, or grocery shopping with a baby or toddler.  Okay, I get this.  I have four children, and I remember being lonely for someone with more than a 50 word vocabulary.  But come on, this is exactly the moment when you teach your children about the world around them.  Can you help them name colors or find the tuna fish when you're talking to somebody else?

4:  In an airport van.  I was once a captive audience while a man fired one of his employees, loudly and with glee.  This is why women should carry Mace.

5:  In the airport itself, sitting next to other passengers who are waiting to board. Sadly one day I learned more than I ever wanted to know about the inner workings of  a Red Cross chapter, complete with names, employee problems, and more personal information too, well, personal, to mention here.  Guess what?  People are listening.

Now it's your turn.  What did I miss?  Am I wrong?  Let's talk–but please, not on your cell. 

Congratulations to Pat Matejcek, whose comment was chosen to win by random.org from all the list comments in February.

Old Friends and Book Ends: Repurposing Your Old Books

I was delighted to get so many responses last week to my personal book quandry.  Remember, I asked what to with a box of old, not particularly valuable, books before I move?

One reader suggested looking at Etsy.com, where books are routinely made into crafts.  So, on a whim this morning, after checking Etsy, I began looking for ideas myself.  I'm so glad I write this blog, because I have excuses to do things like this.

First things first, though.  Before you start cutting up books, you probably need to ask yourself a question or two.  Is the book valuable?  Squidoo's article is a good place to begin.  Not only does the author discuss value, but also general information about how books are made and simple repairs if you decide you have a book worth keeping.

Just to showcase some of the possibilities out there, once you've decided your books are not valuable or worth saving intact, I've added a Book Crafts board to my Pinterest page.  Nothing like a visual jump start to get me in the mood, so I hope it works for you, as well.  For more information on any one of these pins, just click on the link beside/above/below it to go to the page where I saw it originally.

So, are you raring to go now?  Here's a list of 80 awesome ideas for your old books, from using them as step stools and headboards to crafting pages into origami.  Plenty of links, too, to help you get started.  Take out your glue gun and Exacto knife and let the crafting begin.

You say 80 just isn't enough?  20 Ways to Decorate with Book Pages has ideas for making a book swag or wreath or anything in between.  Great instructions, too.

Now, that makes 100 ideas, but how about one more, complete with a lovely tutorial?   You can find directions for an origami Christmas ornament  which will look lovely on your tree.   Since I can't link directly to that page, scroll down to archives on the left and find the November 27th post. Check out her other ideas, though, while you're at it.  This is a lovely quilty website.

And you still need ideas?  Really?  You say you want them all in one place? Well, good news.  The Repurposed Library by Lisa Occhipinti, an Etsy artist herself, pulls everything together for you.  And best of all, you know what?  If you don't like her book?

You'll know exactly what to do with it.

Sunday Poetry: What Else Can He Do But Run?

Welcome to Sunday Poetry.   If this is your first visit you can read about the purpose and inspiration of my Sunday poetry blogs here.

I've spent the last few weeks trying to figure out my future.  My husband is retiring this summer, and we plan to move south.  Where?  Not quite sure.  When?  Don't know that, either.  When and how will we sell our house here in Virginia?  Another and temporarily all-consuming mystery.

In the meantime, I'm feeling pursued.  Pursued by a deadline for a book that's going great guns but wants every minute of my day.  Pursued by the "junk" I've collected over years and don't want to take to another house.  Pursued by decisions.  I remind myself this is good stuff.  We want to move.  We want to move to a warmer winter climate.  We want to start this different phase of our lives.  But pursuers are rarely silenced with logic.

Pursuit, by Stephen Dobyns arrived on my homepage today and I knew, immediately, I had to share it with you.  What's pursuing you?  Are your pursuers the "chaos of the mind?"  "Failure?"  I'm pursued by fear I might make a mistake, which would, in the long run, mean I'm just another ordinary human being prone to error and success, sometimes both in the same moment. 

Maybe you'll find this one as relevant, thought-provoking and in the end, as satisfying as I did.

Remember there are no quizzes here, no right ways to read or contemplate the poem we share.  Absolutely no dissecting allowed.  Just come along for the "read."  What line, word or thought will you carry with you this week?  If you'd like to tell us where the poem took you?  We'll listen.