The Accidental Novelist

The Accidental Novelist has Relocated

2010-04-30T10:44:00.000-07:00

Sometimes people end up here because the Open ID function on the blogspot comments page doesn't always work (does anyone else have this problem?) and the only way I can comment on a blogspot site is to use this ID.

If you'd like the new location of Danika's The Accidental Novelist blog, CLICK HERE.

If you'd like information on her Faerie Tales from the White Forest children's book series, CLICK HERE.

If you're looking for screenwriting services, you'll find that HERE.

If you'd like to see some photographs of sad monkeys, CLICK HERE.

WE'VE MOVED!!

2009-01-27T11:42:00.000-08:00

Hi, yes, I've moved over to WordPress.

I'M HAVING A BLOG WARMING PARTY ON FEB 1, 2009 from 4 - 8 pm (Pacific Standard Time)

Feel free to poke around on this blog all you want. There's disapproving cats, sad monkeys, and a few useful writing exercises. I do receive and read all comments.

We've having a Moving Sale soon. Check back for details.

Monday Poetry Cha-ching (last one on this blog)

2009-01-18T22:07:00.000-08:00

Getting ready for my permanent move to my new blog. I'll be having a moving sale and a blog-warming party. There will be poetry games and treats and music and frolicking, so stay tuned for that. Frolicking is so underrated.

The poem below combines lines from three separate 3:15 experiment poems written August 15, 2008 by Gwendolyn Alley, Tod McCoy and myself. The 3:15 Experiment itself is a work of collective consciousness. We used these poems as part of our process of creating a collaborative poem to submit to an on-line journal; this is a draft of the stanza I produced. We're still working on the final poem and will let you know when it appears.

Thunder and lightning
arriving back from the dead
thawing a bottle of wine
with a drum roll please
my dream angel solid and
drowned for safe
when the light flashes
fiercely beautiful down the hallway

Let’s not fool ourselves
inside a shoe that doesn’t fit
shed some clothes
roam the house
of my youth more human than
closing windows and
slowly warming coal

I ALSO have a Monday Poetry Post on my NEW BLOG this week.

the TRAIN leaves every Monday.

Monday Poetry Thang

2009-01-12T23:01:00.000-08:00

daily grind

miracle birds fly on miracle wings under a miracle sky

someone loads a parking meter with time and the “oo”

in the school sign makes me think the world is looking

out for me. every brick in the library was fashioned in

its brickiness to perfection and laid brick upon

brick and somewhere along the way someone thought

up electricity, the discarding of light, the key to your

heart, like a blossom in the spring snow. clever despite

the cold. I crack open my own, a walnut with a teardrop

center, and fold my hands into the brunt of winter. all

day the miracles follow me around like housecats. all

day I thank them for their moody persistence.

Have a great week! Have two, they're fat-free!

(Join the Poetry Train)

Thursday (gettin my poem on)

2009-01-08T16:15:00.001-08:00

The theme this week on Read Write Poem's "get your poem on" is "beginnings and endings." To me, they are always the same thing. This poem speaks to that idea.

(still working on accompanying video poem)

avoiding the woolly worms

I drive 10 miles an hour slower to avoid them crossing the road

it is the season for so many things

don't know what they will become if left to become

some moth or butterfly fluttering to light

but for now they simply creep across every path

subtle as skin, twice as vulnerable

and I know I must be insane, crying for black and orange

fuzz-piles on blacktop as commuters back up I

swerve into the opposing lane

my life an unconcern

as worms are enlightened

be free be free

in the next lifetime, perhaps they will live

in a great ocean

* * *

if you listen to sea turtles laying eggs

it sounds like a moan of human pleasure

exhale so familiar it makes one shiver

afterwards they leave their young

to predators and elements

return to ocean with straight necks

sun and salt stinging tears mistaken

for regret

At recess, village school children shield emerging

baby sea turtles from vultures

They would tear their heads off

if we let them…

they say in Spanish

So few, so few after egg gathering season

ever make it to the water.

* * *

Upstairs, I stand at the window

wondering if you are asleep in the hammock

one leg thrown over the side

It is as if I am looking down on the memory

of something

or a distant happy dream

It is green and dry through the trees

I'm at the window upstairs as the hammock swings

back and forth and back and forth

filling the space between us

You wave slowly and I wave back

far too calm and quiet

from Every Day Angels and Other Near Death Experiences

Monday Poetry Something or Other

2009-01-05T23:33:00.000-08:00

Something from the vault.

phobia

after much food and drink
I take a walk in the night
while Baby does the dishes
I turn down a dark street
I am not
frightened by the dark street we are in
Platanes, Crete
and the most dangerous thing
I can think of
is the uncertain sidewalk

a motorcycle takes the corner
heads intentionally for me
at the last second veers
and speeds away
there isn’t any laughter

back at our hotel prepared
with my motorcycle story
I find my husband on the floor
keep your shoes on he says I dropped a wine bottle
there are shards in every corner
of the room this is his fear
right now he is frightened by bits of glass

when flying with my husband I figure
one of us should not be afraid as the plane dips
I take his damp hand and smile

I am frightened sometimes by herds of animals
because of the way they all move at once
one thought becomes all thought
all thought becomes sudden

I am not frightened by cherry blossoms
although they are just as sudden
and of one mind

but I’ve never
had to jump out of their way
and when they drop on stone floors
it is merely fragrant snow

Best / Most / Favourite of 2008

2009-01-04T12:01:00.000-08:00

The Best Happy Surprises from the Youth of Today that make me hopeful for the future.

I write/direct (basically showrun) a TV show called VJIAM tv. Even though the job has been extremely overwhelming at times, one of the positive aspects of the show is that it's given me the warm fuzzies for the youth of today. Let's face it, they get a bad rap in the media, and we've left them with a mess. Oops, guys, sorry about that!

The show features the work of emerging video journalists sharing stories about their communities. They cover arts, sports, music, dance, environmentalism, and more. But the really cool thing is that their work is uplifting. They create stories about saving the planet, building community, teaching each other, and being strong in mind, body, and spirit. Some of it has been mighty inspirational.

Here are just a few of my favourites:

At 22 years old, Emily Jubenville was voted Greenest Canadian.

Teens in San Francisco organize a solar powered hip hop festival.

Reel Grrls helps young women get a head start in filmmaking.

Five teenagers are given free music lessons and then put in a band together.

Circus Smirkus... a circus made up entirely of teenage performers.

There are a few that haven't aired yet; I'll link them to the segments when they are online. In the meantime, I've linked them to some information about them, which you'd want to know anyway.

Girls Helping Girls was founded two years ago by 15-year-old Sejal Hathi. It's an international nonprofit organization that partners girls in the U.S. with girls in developing countries to jointly identify problems in their communities and develop social change through micro lending projects.

(Uhhh... what was I doing at 15... hmmm, yeah, working at Winchell's Donut Shop and writing bad poetry.)

Matt Harding travels the world, connecting people, through one simple dance.

And here's a story they haven't covered yet, but I'm hoping they do:

18 year old kid invents a silent, electrically powered motorcycle. I saw this kid on Dragon's Den, a show where entrepreneurs pitch ideas to a panel of investors. When one of the dragon's pointed out that it was the same concept as the segwey, and the segwey had failed, he replied, "yeah, that's because the segwey wasn't cool."

He received a $2.5 million development grant.

The Word on Wednesday - Best / Most / Favourite of 2008

2008-12-31T23:12:00.001-08:00

(because what year would be complete without a best / most / favourite list?)

2008'S BEST CRIES

Most tender cry
The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger
(whose website has been under construction for quite some time)

Years ago my friend Barbara recommended this book and the title stuck in my mind. I finally bought it last Jan with a bookstore gift certificate someone had given me, and even then it sat on my shelf for months. Just before summer, curled up on the couch for a weekend, I cried my way through Henry and Clare's romance. I love how the story's sadness and foreboding is peppered with the humour that comes when two people are so comfortably one, destined and resigned to that destiny of constant heartache. A heartache as beautiful as is is tragic.

Most stunning cry (sudden and unforseen)
Fierce Light - Where Spirit Meets Action
a documentary by Velcrow Ripper

Last October I attended my friend Sue's wedding. This friend had a chronic kidney condition and during the ceremony I could tell she was exhausted. Part way through the reception dinner, my husband and I realized that the entire wedding party was gone. Word came around that Sue had fallen ill and had to be taken to the hospital. She went into a coma and died that evening.

I was in shock, it was unreal that one could attend a friend's wedding and then the friend could vanish from this earth. Sue was all light and heart and spirit, but she also had a flair for the dramatic. We all agreed that her exit was beautiful... how many other people get a reception line of all their friends and family at the end of their lives?

A friend at Sue's wedding recommended a movie to me. She had specifically thought of me after watching it. She said Fierce Light was an inspiring documentary about people coming together for good, for peace, for action. That sounded about right. In the midst of a crazy work week, just a few days after Sue's death, I ducked out for a few hours to see the film at Vancouver Film Festival. It was sold out. I sat in the front row, swallowed by the screen.

In the opening sequence, the director Velcrow Ripper shows the story of Brad Will, an anarchist and video journalist, through his final film footage. Brad was shot and killed (by police) in 2006 during the teacher's strike in Oaxaca, Mexico, which he had traveled down to document. He basically filmed his own murder. The footage was gut-wrenching.

My heart burst open... it was too much. I had known Brad. I knew he had been killed, but I hadn't expected to see the footage on full screen in colour.

I had met Brad at Naropa University. My two fondest memories of him were when he and I spent an afternoon trying to create the perfect intoxicating tea and attending his mock gay wedding held outside the Promise Keeper's convention. Brad was one of a kind. A generous coyote trickster with a heart for justice.

I'm pretty sure I cried through the entire film, and not just for Sue and Brad, for all the wonderful, beautiful people out there with fierce light and spirit. Brad died doing what he had to do. Sue died in the arms of love. I don't know if there is any more appropriate way for them to leave us.

LINK to story about Brad that appeared in Rolling Stone

Bradwill.org

Monday Poetry Purge*

2008-12-29T23:53:00.000-08:00

*purge
a: to clear of guilt
b: to free from moral or ceremonial defilement
c: to cause evacuation from (as the bowels)

I've been typing up my 2008 3:15 Experiment poems. I'm hoping to get them finished before spring. If you have never heard of the 3:15 Experiment... well I just don't know if I can talk to you any more. (it's a collaborative writing experiment, it's annual, it's insane)

I came across this one and really liked how it merged my waking life / job, dreams, odd lists, and a bit of advice (both practical and unprovoked). It is here, unedited, in pure 3:15 form, as the experiment is about writing from / exploring the hypnogogic state.

August 9, 2008
Vancouver, BC

Let’s all give ourselves a raise
all under promoted underplayed
artists report to the promenade deck
time for lawn bowling, sushi
and photos with loved ones

Celebration is a necessary component
to breathing
festivities, fireworks, fondue
should not be kept on a shelf
in the back drawer, coated
with dust. Admire your success
open the windows let it be known

It’s 3 months until winter
keep the hula skirt dry martinis
in china glasses mini umbrellas in our soup
ice sculptures shaped like ducks
cats w/impossibly soft pillows
rites of passage shuffleboard
sun setting over the hills horizons like
white elephants name your poison
name your game—name your baby
take away the name and what’s left?
the essence of what is
breath, celebration, light of our
lives we trust each other
only because we love
to give in, give away
we love to not be in charge
take us away people of the moon
people of the asteroids people
giant-like and forgiving.

The Word on Christmas

2008-12-25T15:46:00.000-08:00

We've been the landlords to a Chinese family for the past year. They've been renting the bottom half of our house while their new home is being built. There are two kids, Mom and Dad, Grandma, and for two months a few cousins. I only understand about 1/10 of what Mom or Dad tells me, and Grandma speaks straight Cantonese with a lot of hand gestures. I always smile because her eyes laugh and shine whenever she speaks to me.

The laundry room is shared and I have to walk through their hallway, past their bathroom, Grandma’s room, and the kitchen to get there. I would have been horrified if any of my landlords had to walk down my hallway to do their laundry. I get shivers just thinking about a few of my landlords. We had a peeping tom for one when I lived in Prague...

In any case, whenever I venture down there, first knocking politely, then jiggling the doorknob so they know I’m about to enter, Grandma always greets me enthusiastically, with a hand on my arm, and the ladies wave from down the hall in the garage, pausing over their sewing machines... oh, yes, they do piece work in the garage. Mom, Grandma, Sister, and “Cousins.” They are chatty and keep the radio on a Chinese version of an easy listening station. The laundry room is just off the garage.

Over the last several months, Mom has hemmed two pairs of pants for me, our curtains, and she made me a green cammie for my birthday. I’ve photocopied papers for her, faxed documents to China, and I gave her kids most of my Halloween candy. They are moving out at the end of the month; their new
house is finished.

Today is Christmas and I need to do laundry. I had heard the whir of sewing machines earlier, so I know someone’s around. I’m not sure if they celebrate Christmas, with kids growing up North American and living in such a fusion of cultures. My own traditions have morphed since moving to Canada.

I grab a little present so I won’t go down empty handed. It’s a honey gift set that my friend made. Her parents run an apiary. They make the honey and she makes the beeswax candles. I venture downstairs and find Mom, Grandma, Sister, Cousin and a Girlfriend sharing a meal in the kitchen. Merry Christmas, Mom says. I hand her the honey gift set and she tells me in very broken English that she wants to invite me to a party at her new house. She then says to come over and she’ll hem my pants. Okay, I say.

Grandma opens all the cupboards, pointing and chatting the whole time. I smile and shake my head. She opens the refrigerator and gestures inside. I still don’t understand. She goes to a calendar and flips the pages to Dec 28. She points to everything around her and then gestures away. Ah, they are moving on the 28th. Everything in the kitchen will be gone by the 28^th is what she means. That’s a lucky day. The Mom had once said that numbers ending in “8” are lucky.

Grandma goes to the stove and grabs something wrapped in aluminum foil. She offers it to me. She points to herself, then the item, then to me. I'm pretty confident she's giving it to me, so I take it. It’s heavy and warm. Thanks, I say, Merry Christmas.

I go back upstairs and into our kitchen. Baby is in the middle of making a traditional Christmas chili. We've been camped out for a few days due to weather and illness. We didn't get a chance to buy any of the usual holiday fare, so chili and pancakes it is.

I set the steaming package on the counter.

What’s that, Baby asks. I believe, I say, it’s a Christmas Yam.

Today I am grateful for the beauty of small gestures.

Happy Holidays to all! Be well and safe! May you all be delivered your own Christmas Yams.

Our front yard, yesterday :-)

And a farewell from this planet to poet Nanao Sakaki who died on Dec 21 at age 86.

The Word on Wednesday - Gross National Happiness and Pronoia

2008-12-03T23:48:00.001-08:00

This weeks' word goes out to the happy feet of Matt Harding. I couldn't stop smiling as I watched this video. I also got a little teary-eyed a few times, because it's just so damn beautiful. Watch it in its entirety, cuz just when you think you've seen it all, he changes it up a bit. Well done!

(Since YouTube is now WIDESCREEN, it doesn't fit in my blogspace any more. Doh!)

If you just love him, his website is Where the Hell is Matt?

And if you want to see an interview with him, check out young VJ Alexandra Liss' Video on SanFranciscoIAM

In particular, what he says at 5:38 about the country of Bhutan is lovely. I had never heard this. Basically the king of Bhutan (they just moved to a democracy recently) decided to measure the prosperity of the country's citizens NOT on economic terms, but by their level of happiness. They have a Gross National Happiness and a Ministry of Happiness.

That is just about the coolest thing I've heard of since I discovered Rob Brezny's book PRONOIA a few months ago. It actually deserves its very own WORD Entry. Perhaps I'll do more on that later. I'd definitely recommend it as a great holiday gift.

Friday Five on Tuesday

2008-12-02T21:21:00.000-08:00

Better late then never, right? I'm working my way back to blogging more. I have to shape up because I was invited to participate in the upcoming Poetry Bloggers Conference (more info as it comes!).

The poem below was inspired by my recent trip to Hawaii, where I swam with sea turtles, and missed my husband back home.

gypsotheque

untidying the line between breath
and spirit
our nightly sculptures mock
dark matter
enter the
light of eternal sunshine
transformed via
our bliss
bedroom sighs
we rise
again and again
flying over pele’s mountain
woozy with love
plain and simple

words only jumble the treasure of it
all so godish
a connection of sea turtles
bidding aloha to brackish waters
our tears and kindnesses
mixing gesso on which
we overlay
their sun-kissed skins

FRIDAY FIVE words last week:

sculpture
gesso
plain
woozy
jumble

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!!!

2008-11-05T09:14:00.000-08:00

The title of this post says it all... the world breathed a collective sigh of relief as Obama was elected the next president of the U.S.

Being an ex-pat living in Canada, I felt a renewed sense of hope and pride in my home country.

Vancouver celebrated last night, and it wasn't just the Americans living here, either. I was out to dinner with two friends last night. I apologized for being distracted by the election, which was being broadcast on a large screen TV at the restaurant. They laughed and said they were distracted by it, too.

When Obama was announced as the next president, I let out such a loud cheer that everyone in the restaurant laughed. As Obama gave his speech, the owner turned up the television and everyone turned to listen. The wait staff, the kitchen staff, the owners all pulled up chairs and everyone sat, happily stunned. There were even some tears of joy, and they weren't all coming from me. My friend Ami and I held hands tightly, witnessing what everyone knew was an amazing historical moment. I high-fived my waiter on the way out.

I came home to some congratulatory e-mails from friends in other parts of the world. U.S. policy and economics affects the world, that has become very clear in the last eight years. The world was indeed watching last night...

Monday Poetry Train - yes, on the track...

2008-10-19T23:40:00.000-07:00

I've been typing up some of my 3:15 Experiment poems, which are pretty dark this year. If you don't know what the 3:15 Experiment is, it's an annual collective of poets who all wake up every night at 3:15 AM during the month of August. Many brave poets attempt it, few survive... well, okay, they all survive, but they do get pretty cranky.

The poems are posted UNEDITED, because the point of the experiment is to see what your 3:15 mind comes up with in its hypnogogic / hypnopompic state.

(the event at the end of this poem is tragically true, not a nightmare I had)

August 2, 2008
Vancouver, BC

As a way of falling asleep
broken thoughts turn into
automatic images playing
fingerpaints
Don’t want to force the images let
them come coaxed like eels
underwater, yes, where preference is usually
blind, but no there is a shock
in life that is unreal
how unreal the story of our lives
when we tell it back gripping I
have become a gripper holding
onto that which made the road here
boyfriends, jobs, speeches, crashes
all jambalaya

my heart rips open w/ today’s news
a man beheaded on a bus on his way back
home on a bus across Canada
nobody got up to stop the knife
and would I have been any more
confrontational? faced w/a mad man
would I run?

decapitated, the victim 3 minutes dead
what I imagine is the breath
one minute easing out w/a thought
of someone I love or used
to love 10th grade prom the
sloppy gropings and smiles
breathe one-two the knife descends
like that when did the lights go?
did he know his head was coming off?
did he have a chance a moment to
realize and love his life for
what it was?

First Attempt at a Video Poem

2008-09-03T02:05:00.000-07:00

This is the audio/visual to go with my previous post's poem.

Ironically, being a writer/producer/director, I have never actually edited anything before. All I have on my computer is this extremely limited Windows Movie Maker, but what'cha gonna do... perhaps I'll get inspired and invest in something a little more snazzy.

All wedding pictures taken by Tod McCoy, all other pictures taken by me.

monday poetry train - present beau for 2 friends

2008-09-01T16:24:00.001-07:00

A present beau is a poem you write for someone using only the letters available in their name/s. For instance, in the poem below, I could only use the letters a, b, c, d, e, i, j, l, m, n, o, r, s, u, v, w - which gave the poem a softer tone because it lacked hard letters like t, k, and g.

Present Beau for Dawn Samuelson and Neven Jambresic

on the occasion of their marriage

aug 31, 2008 - ashford, wa

once in a blue moon

a wondrous love evolves

raw and massive

riddles are balanced

a diorama dances

love’s drums drive rise above

all noise all scars subside

leaves us noble and alive

a sudden call across a room

in seconds loved bloomed

cried dove roamed soared

love drove our

man and woman on

as nervous summer smiles simmered

and wild amour burned

sun and moon and world

embraced lion and lioness

and since love’s sudden wow

our dawn and neven now

vow arrive at wedded bliss

will ever woven become

one sacred river

one sacred road

joined in dream and soul

love’s rare invaluable ode

~danika dinsmore

I'm going to figure out how to post an audio of me reading this poem to this blog. Anyone know how?

I bet it's easy in wordpress, I'm just too lazy to switch from blogger to wordpress. I'll get around to it someday.

You Know You Want To...

2008-07-29T22:07:00.000-07:00

The Annual 3:15 Experiment commences in TWO nights... and I think you all are just insane enough to do it...

You can register on line at: www.315experiment.com

If you've never even HEARD of The 3:15 Experiment... where have you BEEN for the last 15 years?

ON VACATION - RERUNS!

2008-07-15T00:22:00.000-07:00

Hello everyone. I am on "vacation" from my blog right now. Not sure when I'll be back. Sometime at the end of July.

In the summertime, there are reruns on television. In that spirit, here are a few of my favourite posts over the last year or so:

From my Thursday Thirteen File

A crazy idea that took me most of the day to post:
13 Pages from 13 Journals

If you like monkeys, you must check out:
Thirteen Sad Monkeys (from Thursday Thirteen)

A Few of my Favourite Writing Exercises:

The "literary definition"

The use of small incidences

Poetry fun you can have with Friends

A Few Favourite Poems:

Misfitting

No Matter

ID Matters

Something from my Polly Papers

Miranda July Rocks

And lastly... my cats' favourite post

Hope your summer is going well!

dd

Monday Poetry Train

2008-06-23T22:20:00.000-07:00

I just got back from a weekend reunion with several of my best friends from college. We all turned 40 recently. We've known each other for 22 years, and even when we don't see each other for a long time, it's like no time has passed at all.

The job of a writer is to capture these moments in words and I feel humbled by the task. Words really aren't enough. I want to return to this later and do it justice. For now, this is the fresh version.

Reunion

once together we
hummingbirds and flamingos
dance on the
dessert buffet
twenty-two times around the sun
pressing the rough parts free
the wrinkles and scars
musical notes on the agenda
of repeating the memories
that made us

artistry in life is play my
playmates my moulin rouge
my circle unbroken my song
my mother my poet my
once
together in the california sun
tears in our bloody marias
pull my finger jesus smiles
pull my finger and
shut the door

together
at once we children
hold hands at the zoo
in line for the night train
making home where we land
together once there
is no going back we
return to our dream
what is real what
is real our once together
lifetime

Monday Poetry Train (in Motion)

2008-06-09T00:15:00.000-07:00

I haven't written any poetry this week... however I DID attend a screenwriting summit this weekend with Michael Hauge, Linda Seger, John Truby, and Sid Field. I was very unimpressed with Sid Field. Not that I ever refer to any of his books... although I did like his Four Screenplays.

As for the others, I definitely took something away from each. Truby is an excellent lecturer on structure and genre, although a little rigid in his analysis.

For today... you'll have to settle for Poetry in Motion. I really dig this video from VancouverIAM.com. It was created by a student at Vancouver Film School. I've been obsessed with So You Think You Can Dance lately, and the unbelievable control people have over their bodies.

The Word on Wednesday - Word to Director Katrin Bowen

2008-06-04T18:51:00.000-07:00

Since I missed the Monday Poetry Train, I figured I would give this week's word to Vancouver Director Katrin Bowen and her beautiful video poem Almost Forgot My Bones based on Tanya Evanson's poem of the same name.

Monday Poetry Train - for Joe Stummer

2008-05-26T23:47:00.000-07:00

I just watched an incredible documentary last night about the life of Joe Stummer, lead singer of The Clash. Joe Strummer: The Future Is Unwritten. There was so much I didn't know about him, especially the amazing journey of his life. And even though he had some tortured years and pushed away a lot of his friends, he was authentic, and he was a very generous human being. I found the film inspiring in many ways.

When he died at 50 (of a congenital heart defect he knew nothing about), he had come full circle and found peace and happiness in his community.

(The title is in reference to Joseph Campbell's Monomyth, the Hero's Journey)

Separation – Initiation - Return

Joe Strummer lived
the perfect Hero’s Journey
status quo ransacked
when sent to boarding
school the inciting brotherly
suicide the threshold of the
free world trials and allies and
enemies lovers and fans
until finally the belly
of the beast
without a backup band
and the only redemption
to make amends with
all the hippies

he burned fires in circles
after he learned
it’s not places you return to
it’s peace of mind the
final okay I’m here this is it
this is me
and I’d rather be happy
than right
that rock laughing at me
in the shade
without form
we could live that long
and have compassion too

Monday Poetry Train - Found Poem from talk by Jill Bolte Taylor

2008-05-19T22:12:00.000-07:00

Assignment: write a found poem. Use the words of a piece of non-fiction or a speech to write a poem. Put someone else`s words into the style/form of your own poetry.

This is a found poem made up of words and phrases from Jill Bolte Taylor's moving talk on T.E.D. called A Stroke of Insight. Click the link and pull up a box of Kleenex.

a stroke of insight

I can no longer identify
the boundaries of
my body

my body

enormous and expansive
disconnected from all chatter

no longer the choreographer
of my life
I surrender
liberated
a sea of silent euphoria

and no way to squeeze
the enormousness of myself
back inside

I am the lifeforce power of the universe
with manual dexterity
and two cognitive minds

I am the lifeforce power of the universe
at one
with all that is

Weekend Workout - bonus poetry and a shout out to Eckhart Tolle

2008-05-11T00:23:00.000-07:00

I haven't given you all a weekend writing workout in a while, so I stopped in with a bonus poem for the Wishes, Lies, and Dreams class at Puget Sound Community School.

My assignment this time is to go someplace where there are lots of people and just wander around, being quiet, and listening to them all. I think buses are great for this. So are malls. Listen to everyone's pain, fears, worries, suffering, silliness... Your job is to empathize with them all.

I've been having a great time observing others after reading Eckhart Tolle's book A New Earth, which I think is a useful tool for writers. Forget books about writing for a moment and read a book about being a human suffering inside of an ego. Should give you insights for great character development.

During or after you do this listening exercise, write a poem that begins with the lines "I listen..." and see where it takes you.

misfitting

I listen to angels
on the bus wearing
narrative eyes - I've lost
my fearlessness the charm
of youth once wombed in an
immortality of ideas
I am now offered seats
sweets - and less hours in a day
The bus driver tells me
about how his sister smothered
the dashboard of her car
with stuffed animals

I had a car like that I say
Allen Ginsberg rode shotgun
when I gave him a ride home
from a party
elixired on poetry
an incident my keeper of
memory adores

A bodhisattva sits next to me
remembering his dinner
Chinese ladies with bags of aluminum cans
chat loudly and the bus lurches
tumbling us madly forward laughing
as we touch - we know
each other now
a bird of souls
a playground of misfits

Poetry Train... not so much...

2008-05-04T12:58:00.001-07:00

I'm not feeling so poetic at the moment, but I am pretty excited.

Now you can finally see why I have been so insanely busy lately (making for inconsistent blogging).

The first of 25 internet TV sites I am helping to create has launched!

It's less than a week old, so there are still bugs and glitches and funky things going on, as well as changes we just couldn't make in time for our launch. So, we'll be tweaking over the next few months to get everything right.

vancouveriam.com

Each site is locally-based and locally focused. Toronto and Seattle are next.

For some reason, the sound adjuster isn't working on the viewing pages, so you'll have to adjust the sound from your computer.

A few short films that I wrote are posted on the TV IAM portion of the site:

StickUp

What the Cat Said

And I wrote, produced, and directed the "How To TV AM" video, which is about creating video citizen journalism (Click on the pink How To TV IAM graphic)

Word is getting out, people are excited about participating and love the look. I can`t wait to start on the next city!

So, no poem today... but at least I`m getting sleep again. :-)

Monday Poetry Train - from the singed mouth of poetry

2008-04-27T21:55:00.001-07:00

I just got back from Burning Word, the "festival of poetic fire," over on Whidbey Island in Washington State. My husband was a good sport and came with me, sitting in on an impressive number of poetry readings for a non-poet. We were pretty full by the end of the day.

This festival has a special place in my heart simply due to the number of people from my past who haunt it. It's always a reunion. This year I marveled over how many of them I've known for 10 or more years. Anne Waldman, Judith Roche, Paul Hunter, Paul Nelson, Clarice Keegan, Heather Haley, Charles Potts, Amalio Madueno... und so weiter... so many more I can't even list. Cheers to you all for being a part of the who I am now.

I had the pleasure of MCing the Vancouver stage & open mic and one of the workshops. I wrote the following poem in that workshop, although it's already been through a few incarnations.

losing the hammer-will

we have no will
to hammer the hills
tell each other as
drakes chase ducks
around the pond
and into the parking lot

angels in loose clothing
hum fatly the drums
of breath
groping half-baked
in the day - -
industryless

Hop on the Poetry Train and have a super week.

Monday Poetry Train #22

2008-04-14T01:56:00.000-07:00

Hello, hello from your inconsistent monday poetry trainer. how y'all doing? we had the most beautiful weekend in Vancouver, sun shining and cherry blossoms and magnolias in bloom down every street.

Here's a fresh one from last week (when it was still cloudy and rainy).
I'm writing poetry again... hooray.

Id Matters

No matter my inner
chaos - the birds go on
with their lives
cats too, sometimes
all 9 at once
under the roof chicks
have hatched into
gray spring - the
big-headed tomcat skulks
down the cracked
driveway

Notebooks coffee my morning
I embrace words high
sages have warned me
not to use - I choose
emotion over intellect and
the letters get all curly
like a school girl's locker

Beyond that meadow
of voice all is right
with the world - I'm still here
behind the traffic of ego
in the lush cemetery of dreams
laughing - just laughing
my id off

Have an superlicious week!

Weekend Workout / Monday Train: Wishes, Lies, Dreams #6 of 6

2008-03-30T19:28:00.001-07:00

Yes, I'm cheating, I'm combining my Weekend Workout (cuz it's late) with my Monday Poetry Train. But since I used this new exercise to write a new poem, I figured it counted as both.

This is the last assignment for the Wishes, Lies, and Dreams portion of the Weekend Workout. Thanks Puget Sound Community School, for playing along.

Calling Out

"Calling" is a form of wishing. We call for help. We call for something larger than ourselves, to connect with something larger for ourselves. Sometimes our calls are simply pleas to something beautiful, something simple and pure, because we know we are flawed.

I think this exercise is best done outside. A quiet spot is better, but I did this one on my back porch with the traffic outside and all the telephone wires hanging like laundry lines.

In this exercise, you just get quiet for a few minutes, and then look around you and find something in nature to be "in awe" with.

After having a few moments of "awe," call out to this thing. When you call, speak on behalf of yourself as a human existing on the planet. Think about your time on the earth compared to its. Think that you can learn something from it. Listen to what it teaches you.

You literally start this poem with "I call to..." and then ride the call like wind and see where it takes you. This is a very "stream of consciousness" kind of poem and I'm looking forward to seeing where you all land with it.

Lost Flock

I call to the snowcapped blue
mountains Tuesday morning the
river of cars buoys ex-pedestrians
to the city
my muse
of politics
each vying for some heart
as if there weren't enough
to go around

Black crows on the wire
identify each other by instinct
while we do by hairstyles and
familiar arguments

I call to my people
follow through on your dreams
head forth
look the squeegee kids
in the eyes say
hello and thank you
like the magic you do
without fear
of losing your flock

Monday Poetry Train #20

2008-03-24T23:57:00.000-07:00

Hello Poetry Trainers.

First, some most excellent news... I finished the first draft of my second novel. Sure feels good. And it doesn't totally suck! Sure, it needs some love, but for the most part, I'm just glad I've got a full draft to work with. I think the real magic is in the editing...

So, tonight, in celebration, I wrote an original poem. This is about as hot off the press as they get.

It doesn't even have a title yet.

The dramaturge sits in his oafish chair
beard in breath
wrangling his metaphors
he wants demonstration not simple words
the bee bigger than life
just because you say a red bird
represents death
doesn't mean it can't speak

The puppeteer, too, wants a larger role
and the woman behind the bar
the audience in a slow suicide
of soliloquy
wanders home past the
midnight beggars
the bearded critic
stuffs himself
with himself
and goes to bed
dreaming of the speed of light

And speaking of dreaming... I should get to bed myself.

Happy Monday!

Weekend Writing Workout - Wishes, Lies, Dreams #5 or 6

2008-03-22T13:25:00.000-07:00

I've been having a blast writing these weekly exercises for Puget Sound Community School poetry students. If you have some time, please do check out some of their work. They've done a great job with the exercises (as a matter of fact, I may need to borrow some of their examples for a book I'm writing on teaching poetry).

I've been spending more time on wishes and dreams, so I though it was time for some more lies. Or, at least not exactly the truth... How many of you have been in a situation where you don't know the answer to something, and rather than admitting you don't know, you make something up? Little kids tend to do this a lot, but I bet adults do, too.

Then again, some questions are simply unanswerable...

INTERVIEWING OBJECTS

I decided this week to take one of my favourite writing exercises and give it a little bit of a twist.

For this exercise, everyone in the class/group needs to put a few objects on the table. I like a balance of natural objects and man-made objects, so perhaps each students could get one of each. I've used bricks, rocks, tree bark, glasses, pens, shoes, keys, flowers, a bottle of water, anything will work, really.

Exercise #1

Pick three objects that you will use for this exercise. Pick at least one natural object and one man-made object.

Write a question at the top of your page. It is important that the question be open ended rather than yes/no or answerable in one word. Examples would be:

Why is the sky blue?
Why does rain make people sad?
What is space made of?
How do birds stay in the air?
What is fame? love? war?
Why must we grow up?

What you will do is ask each of these objects your question and they will answer you in the form of a list poem. Keep in mind, though, that your object doesn't really know the answer to the question, so it makes the answer up.

Why would the object make up the answer? I suppose it depends upon the personality of the object. It's too egotistical to admit it doesn't know, it's afraid to tell you it doesn't know, it's ashamed it doesn't know, it thinks it should know, etc.

The challenge is in keeping the object's perspective in mind as it answers your question. Remember, it has a skewed and limited view of the world.

Set a timer for 3-5 minutes. Have the first object answer your question. Start each line of the poem in the same manner to give it repetition. You will do this with each object so that at the end you will have 3 stanzas.

Example:

(objects: bark, popsicle stick, brick)

Why Can't I Sleep at Night?

Because you dream of chainsaws
Because you worry about nesting birds
Because your grandparents are sleeping next to you
Because the seasons make you tired

Because you dream of teeth
Because you are disposable
Because you have forgotten your childhood
Because you aren't finished yet

Because you dream of wild oceans
Because you want to grow arms, legs, or vines
Because there is something blocking the door
Because grey isn't your favorite color

I like that this one repeats the "because" each line and each stanza begins with the same idea, that there is some dream involved.

Exercise #2

Now you can turn it around and have the objects ask YOU a question. Meaning, each object asks you the same question, and you answer it for them. You can use the same objects in the first exercise or different ones. You can ask the same question, or try a new one.

Why would you make up the answer or lie to this object? Maybe you are teasing it, maybe you have an attitude. You can decide to tell the object what you think it wants to hear, what it needs to hear, try to convince it of something, or assuage its fears.

(objects - pen, leaf, shoe)

What is love?

It is straight lines and no smudges
It is unmailed letters in a drawer
It is being both right and left handed
It is learning to write your name

It is straight branches and no bird poop
It is unwritten graffiti in someone's mind
It is having branches on the east and west side of the trunk
It is leaning to fall

It is straight lines down a car-free road
It is unopened boxes of fluevogs
It is having socks for every occasion
It is learning to walk

Have fun with this! I've always gotten really interesting results from this exercise.

Monday Poetry Train - Toot!

2008-03-17T23:28:00.001-07:00

I haven't done much writing of original poetry lately... and I'm still without my laptop, working off my ancient PC pulled out of the garage. It's an adventure every time I start exploring my old files.

I tried to find the oldest unpublished poem on this computer that was worth sharing.

This one is 10 years old, when I was traveling in and out of a very long "broken-heart-dark-night-of-the soul" phase in my life. Yeah, we all have at least one of those. I'll spare you from any of the overly-maudlin or overly-philosophical ones.

I've always kinda liked this one, though, not sure why I never published it.

beautiful sonnet

I have never held breath like your intake silence
how can I not love you in your way that
Gemini arm’s-length seduction
eaten with one cannibal cry
how like you to slide between the remains
renaming parts of me turned to dust

1:37 AM won’t stand in front of you
won’t beckon the curtains
draw runes from a black bag
everything about the air rings warning
this is my life this is my life this is my life - but
mantra is weak logic with you fresh on my skin

your passing fancy held onto for lack of better touch
leaves no tomorrow to teach you interpretations of such

Feels good to be back on the train, even if it has been regurgitated material these past two weeks.

Weekend Workout - Wishes, Lies, Dreams #4 of 6

2008-03-15T19:09:00.000-07:00

The Dreams of Small Things

To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.
 ~William Blake

Often times in my workshops I ask my students to go "small." What I mean is that picking large, abstract topics to write about (like love, loss, war) can lead to cliche and vague poems. When you focus on the details of life, and think in concrete images, the more abstract will emerge. You can start off writing a poem about a snail and get to a poem about love. The poem's meaning will come through the objects themselves.

When you want to write about loss, don't try to explain loss, don't tell me what loss is, show me loss. Think of images of loss. And start small.

Part #1 - Find a small moment

In my adult workshops I ask participants to go outside and find the smallest "political" moment they can. There are a lot of politics in small things. Politics means the use "of intrigue or strategy in obtaining any position of power or control." Do the cats in your neighborhood vie for control? Do the leaves? Does the wind?

If you find the idea of the "politics" of things too difficult, simply watch small things in action. Watch the wind blow the seeds off a dandelion. I like watching the pigeons gather on the roof of the tallest house on my block.

In the first part of this exercise, go outside and find this small moment and describe it. This can be done in poetry or prose. DESCRIBE and don't judge or try to make it mean anything. Then, after you've done that for a few lines, look around the object and see how it interacts with the other things around it.

(Thanks to one of my Creative Writing for Children (age 14) participants for the below examples)

The Top Leaf

The top leaf hides in the gray sky with a sigh
above all the other leaves, pointing to the sky
in between winter and spring it beats
its own drum, no wind, no rain, no tide
A plane buzzes overhead, a gull cries
the leaf stares straight up, holding a bud
that no one will ever see, except me
writing in my blue notebook, looking
for the mystery of small things

Part #2 - The Dreams of Small Things

Now that you've made friends with your leaf, or dandelion, or spider, or bird - go one step further and put yourself in the place of your object. Live like the object, and dream what the object dreams. Remember to use its surroundings.

If you'd like, you can use the start line "In my dreams..."

The Dreams of Leaves

In my dreams, at the top of the world, I open
my bud and bloom all year round, soaking the sun
up and never getting wrinkles
The gulls flock overhead in V-formation, calling down to me
an invitation to the beach
One plucks me in its beak and we fly to the shore
the wind laughing in my skin
as airplanes soar, caring for
passengers traveling to distant lands
I fall to the sand, as the gull gets bored
The waves tease slowly and grow
lifting me up to float
through the night by the moon's glow
through the day by the sun's gloat
I am golden and lost, like a delicate
boat

NOTE: I did not make rhyming a necessity for this poem, my student discovered that herself. I like the way it moves in and out of an unpredictable rhyme pattern.

Have a great weekend!

Monday Poetry Train - I'm back! (again)

2008-03-09T22:58:00.001-07:00

Hello Poetry Trainers... boy have I have a few crazy weeks. As you know, I was producing the annual Women In Film Festival, which ended last night at our Spotlight Awards Gala. This on top of my day job, made for a string of 14, 16, even 18 hour days. Whew!

In the middle of all this, my computer went KAPUT! I thought all my poetry was lost, but a friend saved my hard drive (NOTE: backup your hard drive on a regular basis, people!)

I dug my old PC out of storage and am writing on that now. Feels so archaic, haha. It's about eight years old.

In honour of my old 'puter, I dug up an eight year old poem, never published (never happy with it I guess), written while I was living in Prague. I was writing poetry pretty much everyday while I lived there. Wow, it all seems a lifetime ago...

Prague, CZ
July 28, 2000

i’ve attached myself
to the way space
opens up
when everything flames
carries you away to burn
in a new direction for a while

last night we cooked fancy meals
veggie burgers rice wine greek salad ice cream
with blueberries strong coffee
in the morning omelets with creamed spinach
for late lunch blueberry pancakes and
in that determination bought bus tickets for Split
craving at least one day of sun and beach
for all the dark rainy days July has brought

suddenly i’m on vacation
or pre-writing as Bernadette calls it
which is anything you do when you’re
not writing

it's all about mortality
or why we need to love
i’ve become afraid of flying
smoking cigarettes instead
there is so much smoking time here
it passes the meantimes between rational fears

Have a great week, everyone!

Check in and Weekend Writing Workout #14 - Wishes, Lies, and Dreams #3 of 6

2008-02-22T22:58:00.000-08:00

Hello all, thanks for the comments and notes. It's nice to know I've been missed. :-]

Last weekend I was out of town for my 5th anniversary and my 40th birthday. Wow, I'm 40! Where did the time go?

Also, not only am I working a day job, I'm producing a film festival in my "spare" time (so it's like working 2 full time jobs right now). The Women in Film Festival runs from Feb 29 - March 8th. Our website is www.wiffbc.com. It's not the most inspired site... but the films are awesome and the festival will be great... if I can survive until then.

Time for this weekend's Writing Workout: The Cherish Wish

I thought of this one while doing my morning pages. I'm reading through Julia Cameron's "Finding Water" (her third book in her Artist Way series and the perfect thing to keep me grounded right now because it's all about "perseverance" and how to stay focused when other parts of your life threaten to distract you from your art - ha!).

This exercise has three parts to it, and each part could be a poem in itself. Although, I think running through the entire exercise will bear the most rewarding fruit.

EXERCISE #1

In Cameron's book she asks readers to make short lists of things that they "cherish." They could be the small details of your life, objects you wouldn't want to part with, or pieces of the natural things around you.

Set your timer for 3-5 minutes and without stopping to think or edit, make a list of things that you cherish.

example:

I cherish the birds flying east when the sun is on the horizon
the seagull who sits on the chimney of the blue house every morning
the full moon on a clear night
my father's reading glasses, which are the same prescription as mine
my "February" doll he gave me for my 12th birthday
the little wooden Buddha on my altar
I cherish my little coloured wooden cats that sit on the mantle
my cats themselves in their temperaments
my completely worn out and over-read edition of The Phantom Tollbooth
the walk through the cemetery on my way to the store
ETC.

EXERCISE #2

Pick one of the lines above and write a short poem using the formula: cherish, cherish, wish.
Meaning, you write what it is that you cherish, expand or relate a second thing you cherish. And then wish something about it.

Do this at least 3 or 4 times until you have a series of small poems.

examples:

I cherish the birds flying East when the sun is on the horizon,
and the caw-caw-caw as they make their way,
an entire city of crows moving together in space
I cherish the sun, too, as it sits there
admiring the birds
I wish I could fly with my home
anywhere
and bring all the world with me

* * * * *

I cherish my father's reading glasses, which he wore
for the months before his death, so he could see us
large moist eyes behind good-bye eyes
I cherish the moment in the hospital room when we discovered our
prescriptions were the same, and we exchanged glasses, laughing
I wish I could give them back to him, so he could see me, and I him
one more time

* * * * *

I cherish my walk through the cemetery on my way to the store
and my discovery of Ruth Mystic, who must have been a fortune teller,
her small old headstone buried in the grass
I cherish the way the trees are shaped like animals, as if the spirits of the dead
have taken on new forms, the coyote tree howls to the sky
I wish I could howl, too, like an animal tree-spirit, and shake my furry leaves of
all the winter snow

EXERCISE #3

Now that you've got these little cherish-wish poems, you can leave them as they are, or you can try something a little less formulaic.

The formula was simply a way of getting the words out and onto the page, although the little poems are quite satisfying in theselves. Now you can play with what you have and merge them all into one long poem and see where it takes you.

Add details, let it take you new places, and FIND the connections among them. There's a reason you chose those items in your last exercise. There is probably a theme running through them.

I see now in the examples above, a theme of longing and loss. What connections can you make with the mini-poems you wrote? Take that connection, that theme or tone or idea, and base your final poem on it, keeping that connection in mind.

I recommend a circular path, meaning go back to where you began at the end of the poem. This will make the connection complete. You'll see in this one that the reference to the birds returns at the end:

Every day as the sun sits on the horizon
the crows head East
a city of birds
cawing together in space
I head West, taking a short cut
through the cemetery
on my way to the store to buy
more fruit
the trees are shaped like wild animals
howling across the graves
I visit Ruth Mystic, born 1889, died 1947,
a plain stone with no flowers
a tree-rabbit peers down at us
snow at its feet

At the store, I wear my father's glasses
to read the labels on cans of beans
the same glasses he wore for the few months
before his death, after eye surgery
large moist eyes behind good-bye eyes

I cherish the moment in the hospital room
when we discovered our prescriptions were the same
and my mother exclaiming,
when she learned there was
nothing to be done for him
that he had just gotten
his new eyes

Returning from the store
I fill the space between my self
and my home
the city of birds long gone,
the cemetery dark as
silhouettes of tree-wolves bay
at the moon

Have a great weekend!

Weekend Writing Workout #13 - Wishes, Lies, Dreams #2 of 6

2008-02-08T23:16:00.000-08:00

Is the opposite of lying telling the truth? We'll find out in this next exercise.

There's a really great group writing exercise I play when I lead writing workshops called "opposites." Each student writes a line on a piece of paper and then passes it to the next person. That person writes the opposite of what the line says, folds the paper so that only their line is showing and passes it again. The next person writes the opposite of that line and folds it again. They keep passing the papers, writing the opposite, and folding it so that only one line is showing until it gets around the room.

When you unfold the papers, you usually get a fantastic surprise.

This exercise is kinda like that, only you write it by yourself.

First, think up a wacky lie. Something a little quirky or surreal is good, like the "moon is made of green cheese." Then, write the opposite of that line, and the opposite of that line, and again, and again until you have written at least 10 or 12 lines. The odd lines should be the lies and the even lines the truth, right?

Not really, but when you get to the last line, you right... "and/but the truth is..."

When you play with opposites, don't be too LITERAL, otherwise you'll just go back and forth between: The sun shines during the night, the moon darkens during the day, the sun brightens up the night, the moon darks up the day... that's boring. Make it a little more creative than that.

The "opposite" can be whatever you define it to be. If it sounds strange, you're probably on to something.

These are both from students in one of my creative writing workshops:

EXAMPLES:

Cats with no tails can see into the future
Dogs with tails regret the past
Domesticated lions chase the wind
Turtles lie low in the hot sand
the ocean is home to wild dolphins
the sky will not support elephants
the ground beneath my feet welcomes tadpoles
my skin shivers when I think of pterodactyls
warmed by the fire, I dream of skeletons
on the snowtopped mountain I forget about meat
the plants cry tears of molten lava
and the truth is animals are made of air

This one takes a few surprising turns:

I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die
I saved a woman from drowning so she could be a star
I joined the circus in order to be forgotten
On the marquee was my name in lights
In the dungeon I turned to bones where
I dreamed of castles and staircases made of air
I sit down for breakfast, just an ordinary guy
but my name is in the headlines for my rotten crimes
so I moved to Africa out in the bush alone
the truth is I am surrounded by millionaires

Try it a few times and see what you come up with. Have fun with it!

Weekend Writing Workout #12 - Wishes, Lies, and Dreams #1 of 6

2008-02-01T22:41:00.000-08:00

This Weekend's Workout is the beginning of a six week series I am dedicating to Puget Sound Community School in Seattle. I used to work for them about 10 years ago and it was a blast. It's a small private school where kids focus on self-selected pursuits in a positive and collaborative environment.

The School's Director Andrew Smallman is leading a class on poetry called Wishes, Lies, and Dreams based on Kenneth Koch's book of the same name.

Since I cannot be there in person to hang out with them, I'm going to post 6 weekend writing workouts focused on poetry, in the spirit of wishes, lies, and dreams. Join on in if you'd like.

This week: The Dream Deferred

What is something you've always wanted to do, but haven't done due to fear or embarrassment or some silly excuse like you don't have time or you don't know how? Have you wanted to go sky diving? Have you wanted to take singing lessons? Have you wanted to write a novel? Have you wanted to learn to knit?

Write a poem based upon your dream deferred.

When you write the first draft, write it spontaneously. Write from your gut. Don't stop writing, don't edit as you write, just write.

Line One:
Begin the poem by stating that you are doing this thing you want to do.
"I dance the tango..."

Line Two:
You do this thing to... (finish line)
"I dance the tango to..."

Line Three:
You do this thing because... (finish line)
"I dance the tango because..."

Line Four:
You do this thing and...
"I dance the tango and..."

This time, let the line take you away (remember to keep writing). Keep running with the thought.

When your ideas run out, simply start the next line with "I --do--this--thing--" (I dance the tango...)

EXAMPLE

I play the drums
I play the drums to hide the pain
I play the drums because someone
has to hear my heartbeat other than me
I play the drums and the rhythm fits into the palm of my hand
a palm is the size of a heart they said in biology 9th grade
young and thinking I knew something about love
I hold the rhythm, hold grace, hold the place
where other hearts beat like footsteps like rain
I play the drums to soothe to hide to forget names
and places and dates but rhythms I'll keep I'll keep the rhythms...
ETC.

I usually time these exercises, but on this one, I just want you to write until it feels done.

Remember, go with your gut and keep writing. You can edit all you want when it's done.

Monday Poetry Train - Divine Creation

2008-01-28T22:08:00.000-08:00

Every once in a while I have a "missing my father moment." He died almost two years ago and I can't believe it's been that long already.

As usual, I used the 5 magic words from Michelle's Poefusion Blog

divine creation

today I am glass
inspired by a tome
of pink halos
left drying in the sun

you and the universe cohere
flying presently past
the dandelion field I awoke from
not so long ago

life is three days you said
on your death bed a man
now a boy
to a woman
not yet finished and
after you left
all I could offer was dedications
in books the pages years but if your
philosophy is true they are minutes
and I am flying through them with
you in my arms

today I am glass you warm me
immersed in your heart the one
that stopped beating
the one I drew my hand to
and closed your eyes

today I went to boxing class felt the
muscles of my arms as I punched
red gloves into red gloves inside the smell of
bodies burning
bending towards
no time

today I am glass
or tears or snowflakes my
eyes don’t know at any moment
what I am doing other than needing
to be in love

The Friday Five words were: create, immerse, glass, dandelion, and cohere

Join Rhian's Poetry Train, everyone's doing it.

The Word on Wednesday - What is Stephen Harper Reading?

2008-01-23T21:12:00.000-08:00

You don't have to be Canadian to enjoy this website. As a matter of fact, I think someone should start this same idea with President Bush (although keep it to books under a 6th grade reading level).

What is Stephen Harper Reading?

Yann Martel, author of the book The Life of Pi, which I read a few years ago, is sending Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper a new book every two weeks, along with a letter about why he chose that particular book. He's been doing this since last April and vows to keep doing so for as long as he is in office.

The books are meant to help the PM (or anyone) cultivate a stillness, which Martel deems as necessary if one is to enjoy the arts.

The idea was inspired after Martel was invited to the House of Commons with 49 other artists to celebrate 50 years of Canadian Arts and Culture.

The moment had come. Question Period was over and we were now going to be officially acknowledged by the House.

The Honourable Bev Oda, Minister for Canadian Heritage, whose seat on the government benches is as far away from the Prime Minister’s as is possible for a member of the cabinet, rose to her feet, acknowledged our presence and began to speak. We stood up, not for ourselves but for the Canada Council. Her speech was short. There was a flutter of applause. Then Minister Oda sat down, our business was over, MPs instantly turned to other things, and we were still standing. That was it. Fifty years of building Canada’s dazzling and varied culture, done with in less than five minutes.

...

The Prime Minister did not speak during our brief tribute, certainly not. I don’t think he even looked up. The snarling business of Question Period having just ended, he was shuffling papers. I tried to bring him close to me with my eyes.

Who is this man? What makes him tick? No doubt he is busy. No doubt he is deluded by that busyness. No doubt being Prime Minister fills his entire consideration and froths his sense of busied importance to the very brim. And no doubt he sounds and governs like one who cares little for the arts.

But he must have moments of stillness. And so this is what I propose to do: not to educate—that would be arrogant, less than that—to make suggestions to his stillness.

On his website, Martel has listed all the books he has sent, along with all the letters... and the one very brief response from Harper's assistant after he sent the first book, The Death of Ivan Ilych. There have been no other responses.

The book list is quite varied and interesting. I've only read 5 of them myself, so I better get reading as well!

Monday Poetry Train - no matter

2008-01-21T23:50:00.000-08:00

It's still Monday in the Pacific Northwest.

This is my take on missing the bus today.

no matter

today
it is no matter
missing the bus
my composition shifting
outside the forgotten structure of
last night’s yellow dream
glassy eyed and grotesque from
too much busy mind I welcome the sun’s
cosmopolitan greeting holding life
momentarily by a shoe
lace
the birds commute west
an interlude
between cosmic sheets
of music no matter to the
stage production below
no matter
their chemistry neglects intension
draws spirit from the body
of instruction and
discipline

Friday's fives on Poefusion were:

interlude
grotesque
chemistry
neglect
shoelace

Take a Ride on the Poetry Train. It's good for you.

Weekend Writing Workout #11 - Oh, the agony...

2008-01-18T22:30:00.000-08:00

I've gotten to what I call the SLOGGY part of my story.

I've lost my way, it doesn't seem to be moving anywhere significant, and my characters don't seem motivated (i.e. I'm pushing them through the story instead of them leading me through it).

This is about the time when I look at every other idea I have and think... hmmm, maybe I should be working on that instead? Look, shiny object!

But I don't think switching stories is a good idea. I think it's best to push through the slog to the end and see what you've got.

It's time for some good old fashioned spontaneous writing. Writing from the gut. The wilder the better. When the inspiration seems to have left and I have to drag myself to the page, it's time to think outside the box.

(even if you're not in the slog, you can still play along)

Pick whatever piece of writing it is you're going to work on. See where you are and think about what comes next.

Step 1) Set your timer for 5-7 minutes. At the top of your page, write the start: The scene that needs to be written is... because...

After you finish with that thought, write This scene needs to be written because... and start the next thought. Keep writing This scene needs to be written because... until you hit something, an idea, and then take off! At this point, no more punctuation. Just write in one long stream of consciousness. REMEMBER to write without stopping, without crossing out, without editing. If you get stuck, you can always start again with This scene needs to be written because...

Example:

The scene that needs to be written is the scene where Mabbe confronts Croilus because it gets Mabbe outside of her burl. This scene needs to be written because it's where Zhay learns that Brigitta was telling the truth. It needs to be written because it's where Zhay loses it and all his anger about being abandoned by the Ancients bursts forth and he attacks Mabbe but she's too strong for him and she strikes him down and when that happens the spell seed falls to the ground and they...

Step 2) Set your timer for 5-7 minutes. Pick one of the following as your start line:

In this scene my protagonist learns...
In this scene my protagonist reveals...
In this scene my protagonist proves...

You can also put in another character if that works better for you. In this scene my villain, my antagonist, my protagonist's mother... feel free to make it work for you.

The important thing is that a character learns or reveals or proves something. This will help move your story forward.

Again, total stream of consciousness, no punctuation, no editing, no stopping. Allow yourself to write the first thing that comes out of your pen. It's not permanent! We're getting ideas

example:

In this scene Brigitta proves that she can fight the force of the green zynthia and she believes it has to do with her having both air and water elements now and she discovers that she is more powerful than before and the extra element has made it easier to manipulate her environment and there is no way to give it back and maybe it was her first true element...

Step 3) Set your timer for 3-5 Minutes. It's time for a "What if" wild flow! By wild I mean don't discount any thought or idea. Let the What Ifs fall where they may. This is a list that you write as fast as you can. You can simply start with What if... on each line, or use any of the following prompts:

During this scene, what if...
After this scene, what if...
After my protagonist reveals ____, what if...
After my protagonist learns ____, what if...
After my protagonist proves _____, what if...

example:

After Brigitta reveals that she can overpower the zythia...
what if Croilus realizes the prophesy is coming true?
What if Devin and Ferris attack Zhay?
What if Brigitta thinks Croilus is going to attack the White Forest?
What if Zhay tries to kill Croilus?
etc.

Usually at least one lightbulb goes on during this exercise. But you've got to just let go and allow it to happen. Write as fast as you can, keeping pen on the page. Afterwards, you can go back and mark items that you like.

You should now be sufficiently pumped to write the next scene! I know I am. I learned at least three things about where I'm going next.

Have a great weekend!

Monday Poetry Train - Grief

2008-01-13T21:23:00.000-08:00

Okay, how's this for wacky.

I wrote a poem yesterday as an example for a writing exercise.

Today I went to Poefusion's Friday Five to get the weekly words for my Monday Poetry Train poem. I just happened to have used two of those words in yesterday's poem. Ooooh, twilight zone, man... considering all the English words in the world.

So, I decided to rewrite the poem, adding the remaining three words.

The words were: cease, intense, floss, prey, swallow

To see the original poem, and also the exercise through which I created this poem, CLICK HERE.

GRIEF

She sobs at the kitchen table
surrounded by yesterday's mail
floss of hair cascading around
shoulders’ intense wracking
through an irreparable crack
in the foundation of
her daily routine

Life with my father would forever more
be a litany of past-tenses
He was a good man...
He had a contagious smile...
He loved his work...

Dinner, newspapers, the garden
all but pain ceased to exist
it swallowed us whole

Grief, true grief,
is helpless and empty-handed
an immeasurable wrench
preying on the gut
no mortal words
can relieve

Jump on Rhian's Poetry Train. You know you want to.

Weekend Writing Workout #10 - Objects / Images / Incidences (#5 of 5)

2008-01-12T11:26:00.000-08:00

Hey, it's only taken me 2 months to get back to this... life gets in the way like that... This is the final installment of the Object / Image / Incident 5 part exercise series.

The following exercise was inspired by Milan Kundera. I call it a "literary definition."

Kundera often comes up with fabulous "definitions" for things via an incident or image. For instance:

Love
"The brain appears to possess a special area which we might call poetic memory and which records everything that charms or touches us, that makes our lives beautiful... Their love story did not begin until afterwards: she fell ill and he was unable to send her home as he had the others. Kneeling by her as she lay sleeping in his bed, he realized that someone had sent her downstream in a bulrush basket. I have said before that metaphors are dangerous. Love begins with a metaphor. Which is to say, love begins at the point when a woman enters her first word into our poetic memory."

I've always admired that definition of love. Well, we can't all be Milan Kundera, but we can have fun with this idea of creating definitions. The idea is to pick an abstract idea (we'll focus on an emotion) and define it by first visualizing the demonstration of it. Then we'll write the definition of it using that demonstration.

First we start with an incident.

PART ONE

Set your timer for 3-5 minutes for this warm-up exercise using the "I Remember" technique invented by poet Joe Brainard. Think back to your childhood, to an incident that still conjures an emotion (joy, fear, excitement, guilt, grief, embarrassment, etc). Start your timer, write the words "I remember" and continue the sentence, recalling the memory.

Without stopping to think or edit, simply keep writing lines, forming a "list-poem" with the words "I remember" starting each line. Do not write " " marks, you need to actually write the words "I remember" on each line, as it gives you a moment to find the next memory. See where the memories take you. You can skip through time as much as you like. Don't think too hard about it, just let it flow...

Example:

I remember dancing around a pizza parlor during my 6th birthday in my favourite long green and purple dress, thinking I knew how to tap dance. I couldn't stop dancing and everyone was watching and laughing with me.

I remember my mom tripping over the cat and hitting her head against the wall. She started bleeding everywhere and I ran to the neighbor's house to get help.

I remember my mom sobbing at the kitchen table the night after my Dad died.

I remember sticking a paperclip into a light socket and getting shocked.

I remember my friend riding her bigwheel into her pool and her Dad jumping in and saving her.

I remember singing "Hello My Baby" in a can-can line at my friend Kiki's house.

ETC.

This could be a poem itself... but wait, there's more!

PART TWO:

Pick any one of the above lines, especially if it conjures a strong emotion. Move the memory around in your head, what do you SEE?

Set your timer for 3-5 minutes. Without stopping, simply jot down a list of the images you associate with this memory.

Example:

old brown kitchen table with green legs
my mom bent over, her shoulders shaking as she sobs
her reddish blonde hair
newspapers piled up in the corner
mail piled on the table
dinner plates
etc.

PART THREE

Now, name the emotion. Then, demonstrate the emotion through the incident. Use the images from your list in your paragraph or to inspire your paragraph or both. When you get to the end of the paragraph, write your definition. The key is to put yourself in that moment and to FEEL, really feel, the emotion. Then describe it in words as if writing it in a literary dictionary. This is an invaluable tool for a writer.

GRIEF

I watched my mother sob at the kitchen table - shaking, wracking sobs that burst through an irreparable crack in the foundation that was her daily routine. Her life with my father would forever more be a litany of past-tenses. He was a good man. He had a contagious smile. He loved his work...

In that moment, all but her pain ceased to exist. I could only watch as it swallowed her whole. Grief, true grief, the one that leaves us helpless and empty-handed, is an immeasurable wrench of the gut that no mortal words can relieve.

What to do with this? Well, try a bunch and see which ones you like best.

You can then use them to create a poem
or perhaps place them inside a short story or a novel as part of your character's experience.

GRIEF

My mother sobs at the kitchen table -
surrounded by yesterday's mail -
wracking sobs that burst
through an irreparable crack
in the foundation of
her daily routine

Life with my father would forever more
be a litany of past-tenses
He was a good man...
He had a contagious smile...
He loved his work...

Dinner, newspapers, the garden
all but her pain ceased to exist
it swallowed her whole

Grief, true grief,
leaves us helpless and empty-handed
an immeasurable wrench of the gut
no mortal words can relieve

The WORD on Wednesday - Band Name Generator

2008-01-09T22:49:00.000-08:00

This site turned out to be way more fun than I had anticipated.

I needed a name for a female rock band for a mockumentary web series. I threw in a few words an ended up with Hell Sister Rebellion, Hell Sister Fiesta, and Suburban Hell Sisters. (hmmm, notice a theme?)

If you are ever in the need of a band name for a novel or screenplay, Band Name Maker is the place. There are other band name generator sites, but I like Band Name Maker because you can put a word or two in yourself and it will use those words in the name. Other sites like Band Name Generator or Rock and Roll Generator or Random Band Name Generator simply put random words together (although the last one allows you to pick the style of music).

Just for fun (on Band Name Maker) I put in the words "accidental," "novelist," and "accidental novelist" and came up with these gems:

Campground Of The Accidental Chihuahua
Accidental Hallucination
Misplaced Novelist
Delayed Novelist Emergency
Accidental Novelist Of The Lucid Sunday
Flannel Accidental Novelist And The Girlfriend

Anyone interested in forming a band?

Post other names in your comments if you try it out.

Monday Poetry Train - Double Triolet

2008-01-07T20:12:00.000-08:00

Because I am a sucker for assignments in form and poetic challenges... I combined two of Poefusions assignments, one being a triolet (which I haven't written in years) and the other being her Friday Five (in which she picks five random words we have to write in our poem).

When I was at Naropa, poet Pat Reed had us write what she called "double sonnets" and "double triolets." Which were basically one right after the other either continuing the sentiment or, even more fun, responding to it.

One thing that wasn't mentioned on Poefusion, is that a traditional triolet is written in iambic tetrameter.

Double Triolet for a Mind’s Mad Fiction

When I reach sleep I dream as moss
concordant breath connecting me
to other world’s distorted toss
when I reach sleep I dream as moss
bewildered lashes fishing free
when I reach sleep I dream as moss
concordant breath connecting me

I reminisce throughout the day
about the polestar of that path
across the vellum on display
I reminisce throughout the day
bookmarking mind’s material bath
I reminisce throughout the day
about the polestar of that path

Poefusion's Friday Five: fiction, reminisce, moss, distorted, vellum

Okay, I DID it... I didn't say it was a GOOD poem. haha.

Get on the Poetry Train

The Word on Wednesday - Friends Doing Good Things

2007-12-26T09:12:00.001-08:00

I said I was back and then promptly left again... Well, this time I mean it. I'm back and I've missed everyone!

Today's WORD goes out to some people I know who have recently followed their hearts (or guts, as some would say), with inspiring results.

Million Dollar Hunch and Hope's Last Request

A little while back I wrote about a former student of mine who had taken a risk on a hunch and started on a journey to simply hand people what they needed. His goal was to raise a million dollars and give it all away. He ended up giving all of his own savings away. He also ended up buying a Harley Davidson on his credit card as a dying wish for a girl, who wanted to give the bike to her father before she passed away.

He did and she died a few days later.

A friend of mine, who has been with Jim on his entire journey, documented the story and now it's available on DVD. The sale of the DVD goes towards production costs, as everything was created and funded at their own expense. Jim put almost $20,000 on his credit card to buy the motorcycle for Hope and some donations have come in to pay him back for his good deed.

Check out MILLION DOLLAR HUNCH to see what they've been up to or to buy the DVD.

Who Do You Think You Are?
by Keith Leon

I had the pleasure of helping edit a new book, now available on-line and to be released as a physical book in Spring. It's called Who Do You Think You Are and it includes interviews with successful people who have embraced their "purpose" in life and are living that purpose to the fullest. You can listen to a recorded teleseminar with Keith, and some of the people interviewed for the book, on the above link.

Participants include some of the top "thought leaders" of our time, many names you'll recognize from movies like The Secret or from the work that they do. He divided them into teachers, authors, entertainers, healers, speakers, and entrepreneurs. Included in the book are Jack Canfield, Marcia Martin, Dr. Joe Vitale, Terry Cole Whittaker, Bob Proctor, John F. Demartini, Hale Dwoskin, Rhonda Britten, Curtis Sliwa, and others. There are so many viewpoints, that I guarantee there's something for everyone... some one in that book will speak to you.

He asked them all the same three questions:
Who do you think you are?
What event or series of events led you to this realization?
What advice would you give to others still searching for their purpose in life?

It was really inspiring to help edit the book, because I was so immersed in these people's lives. I realized while I was reading it that they are no different than I am, they simply broke through the barriers (the ones we put in our own way). Reading it was like being bonked on the head with a velvet hammer over and over again. I have to say, it really helped me to take some big steps forward in my life.

Congrats to Keith. I know his book will do well and inspire many people.

Monday Poetry Train (I've lost count of how many)

2007-12-10T21:24:00.000-08:00

hello poetry trainers, how I've missed this ritual, this discipline. but I am back and hope you are all well and full poetic cheer.

again, I've used the fabulous friday five word list from poefusion to create tonight's poem.

when I retire

the snow silence will greet my notorious late morning
orchestrated by commuting leaf breath and teapot
gasping minuet-ish piano keys through
fogged window life a background
of mayonnaise and mustard jars
filled with small pebbles collected off
tropical beach waves and saved moat dreams
my art surrendered to an elastic infinity of views

For some reason, I have this notion that I will retire when I hit 45. That sounds pretty good to me.

friday's words were: notorious, piano, mustard, moat, and infinity.

Join the train.

I'm Back! Time to get back into that Weekend Workout

2007-12-07T14:40:00.000-08:00

Yes, I'm moved into my new home (not unpacked, mind you, that happens later) and although we did end up moving during a snowstorm with slick streets and sidewalks, I am happy to announce that there were no overnight hospitalizations and only one broken jar (that we know of so far).

And my Internet is up again! It only took 6 days for Telus to get it running properly! Thank you Mr. Telus man for coming to my house and fixing it!

I would also like to extend thank yous to the random friends who appeared out of nowhere to help and to all the coffee shops around town with Internet access... without which I would have been unable to perform the duties of my new job this week.

For this weekend's workout, I wanted to keep it simple. The holidays are approaching and creative time is minimal. I haven't written in over 10 days and it's making me a bit anxious. So, that's the theme of this post:

HOW TO GET BACK INTO YOUR WRITING AFTER A LEAVE OF ABSENCE

I always recommend writing every day because it keeps the creative "faucet" from freezing up, it keeps material fresh in your mind, and it's easier to keep a commitment to something you do every day. If you tell yourself you have to write every day, you'll more likely write than if you tell yourself you're going to write 3 days per week. Trust me on this one.

But life happens and sometimes our time gets sucked up by other things (births, deaths, metaphoric and literal). When we decide it's time to get back, it's challenging.

Here are a few things I'm going to do to get myself restarted. You can use them whether you've been away for 24 hours or 24 weeks.

1) Be kind to yourself for the missed time. Guilt is useless. Getting upset with yourself is useless. Just be grateful for the fresh jump back in.

2) Decide what you're going to work on (in my case, my 2nd novel and I'm about 3/4 done) and how much time you're going to work on it. Try for at least 45 minutes, because after being away, you may need extra time to get back into it.

3) Review where you left off. Read the last 10 pages if you need to. DON'T edit what you've written so far (unless you are done with the first draft and ready to edit). You'll get focused on editing and not moving forward.

4) Set your timer for 5-7 minutes. Using the start line: When I left off, my protagonist was...

Write for the full time (by HAND), do not edit, do not cross off, do not stop. Just keep writing and see where it takes you.

5) Set your timer for 7-10 minutes. This time, write spontaneously starting with the line: In the next scene, my protagonist must...

Again, write by hand without stopping.

6) Before you write your scene, try one more spontaneous writing exercise, choosing one of the following for your start lines and writing for 7-10 minutes:

This scene moves the story forward because...
This scene reveals the fact that...
My antagonist appears in this scene to...
My protagonist's / antagonist's goal in this scene is to...
In this scene, the secret is...
The BIG MOMENT in this scene happens when..

7) Read what you have written, circle "hot" words and relevant phrases. Pull stuff you want to use. Then, WRITE YOUR SCENE!

Have a great weekend!

On Leave for a Few Weeks

2007-11-24T11:51:00.000-08:00

I'm moving into my new home a week, so life's a little crazy at the moment. I also won't have Internet for a few days until after I move in, so I'm going dark for a little while.

Catch you when I get back!

dd

The Word on Wednesday - A Real Meme Challenge

2007-11-21T17:28:00.000-08:00

I'm amused how the term "meme" has been acquired by the blogging community. I'm not entirely sure how it started to be called a "meme." To bloggers, it seems to mean a questionnaire (or simply a question) passed through the blog-o-sphere in which participants post their answers on their blogs. The questions stay the same, but the answers change, so it's not technically a meme in the traditional sense. Or maybe it is, and it's a metameme...

The traditional meaning of the word is a societal / cultural piece of information that becomes adopted into the mainstream and understood, even if the person was not witness to the origin of the information. I always think of the phrase "Can't we all just get along?" which has been made fun of, but also marked a moment in time in North America where we had to stop and look at the ridiculousness of our behaviour. If you repeat that phrase, most people in North America know what you mean by it, even if they can't remember where it came from.

Other forms memes can take:

Jingles
Jokes ("A guy walks into a bar...")
Nursery rhymes ("Jack and Jill went up the hill...")
Children's culture: games, activities and chants typical for different age-groups. I'm amazed that kids in Canada play some of the same hand-chant games I played in Elementary School!
Conspiracy theories
Fashions (tube tops, anyone?)
popular catch phrases ("Show me the money!")
Group-based biases (racist stereotypes)
Internet slang ("LOL")
Viral marketing ("word of mouth")

The phrase was invented by evolutionary theorist Richard Dawkins in the 1970's. They're like cultural genes, and they can mutate over time. With memes, some ideas will propagate less successfully and die out, while others survive and spread.

Even this is a watered down version of what a meme means, and if interested, read the fascinating history of the idea on Wikipedia.

The reason I'm saying all this is to introduce you to my little social experiment. I've tried this twice before. I've started a word or phrase with someone and tried to see if we could get others to start using it, too. Once, with one friend, we started using the phrase "curb" as in "stop curbing me" or "you're curbing my cool" or "don't be curbing me, girlfriend." We didn't take it too seriously, so it didn't catch on.

Once, when I was teaching high school, my 9th grade English class invented a word called skooz - it didn't really mean anything, just a silly derogatory remark. "What a skooz!" We used it all the time and it only took a few weeks for the other students at the school to start using it. Their enthusiasm waned and it died out.

So... I've always wanted to try this on the Internet, because things can really get passed along around here. I tried to make up a few words, phrases and define them. What I'd like YOU to do, is to 1) use them in your own blogs and LINK back here. 2) use them when commenting in other people's blogs (without saying what it means, pretend its just something everyone says, like "meme"). and 3) IF YOU SEE someone else using it who did not post it here, let me know!

Everyone game? Okay, here they are:

Blixen - A blog vixen. In the traditional sense of the word vixen, though... not someone who's got a sexual appetite, but someone who is shrewish or malicious. This is a person who puts mean comments on other people's blogs. You could shorten it to Blix if you want, especially for a guy. OR, you could even Blix someone. "Man, she totally blixed me on my post about gay rights."

Salad Blog - I thought of this at dinner. It's a light blog. Not meaty, just a fun, non-serious, kind of blog. Nothing political or charged. "What's her blog about?" "Oh, it's a salad blog, you know, about traveling with her kids."

Rudy - This one is in honour of Christmas. Rudolph lights the way, takes the lead, inspires us. So Rudy, is short for a person who does that. "Rhian's quite a Rudy, she's led people to express themselves poetically.

Game on?

Monday Poetry Train #12

2007-11-18T23:20:00.000-08:00

I'm going to kill the proverbial "two birds with one stone" (I hate that saying, I have got to think up something better, like feeding two starving cats with the same fish).

I was tagged by the lovely Michelle Johnson over at Poefusion to list at least 4 things a beginning poet should attend to and four mistakes you think a poet should avoid.

In an added twist and challenge, I will incorporate the five words from her weekly Friday Five list into my answer. This is an advanced poetry move. DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME. You may pull something, perhaps an adverb.

Attend to:

1 - Writing groups are great. If on-line is your only option, do that. But nothing beats getting together with other writers in person to read - loudly, with pride, as if performing theater - and talk about your work. Have one person host each week who finds a warm-up exercise, which you can then rewrite as your "homework." Share your rewritten poems each week and give constructive feedback (see #3 in the AVOID section).

2 - Read your work out loud. To yourself after you write it, while editing it, and to your writer's group. Hear and feel the rhythms. Even if your poem is not a metered poem, it will still have a rhythm and the rhythm should work. Read other people's poetry out loud.

3 - Also, read books about poetry. In particular, read Jane Hirschfield's wonderful book Nine Gates: Entering the Mind of Poetry if for nothing else then the first essay "Poetry and the Mind of Concentration." It's extremely accessible and quite lovely. I promise you she's not overly erudite. One of my other favourite essays on poetry is Frank O'Hara's "Personism." It's quite funny, actually.

4 - Play in ALL the forms. experiment. try writing rituals (like waking up at 3:15 AM every morning for a month to write, right Gwen?). HERE are a few examples of some of my rituals and experiments. Try cutting up other people's poetry (I once made a fabulous Shakespeare - e.e. cummings sonnet). make collages! Fill up a journal page, place a leaf over the words, and trace the leaf. Take everything INSIDE the lines as your poem. experimenting yields the most surprising work. And poetry should surprise both the writer and the reader.

What to AVOID:

1 - It drives me crazy when people write in flowery language, using thees and thous, as if the language of poetry (and language itself!) hasn't changed like every other art form over the years! We don't speak that way, so why would we write that way? Poetry is to connect, you'll distance your audience if you can't communicate with them.

2 - Don't insist on sticking with (predictable) rhyming poetry... there are other forms out there. Rhyming can be fun (hey, I love a good rap or villanelle and I'm a total sucker for a surprise rhymed couplet), but it can be quite limiting. I mean, seriously, try to come up with a good rhyme for malaria while keeping the intent of your poem.

3 - I find it amusing when I get students in my writing workshops who present their work, and then get defensive when I critique it. I start to wonder why they're there - for me to simply pat them on the back and say well done? Shut up and LISTEN in workshop situations. Take it all in, think about it, use what makes sense. Be open to making your poem better! If it's not working for your audience, it's not working for them.

4 - Whatever you do, DO NOT enter the poetry writing contests on Poetry.com (aka the International Library of Poetry, the International Society of Poets and the International Poetry Hall of Fame) - it's a total scam and a shame that they got to that url first. They tell everyone who enters "you're a semi-finalist" and you can buy the anthology with your poem published in it for $59! Then it comes in a 600 page book with 10 poems per page. You do the math. (even Wikipedia lists it as suspect). Do not support them, they have scammed many unsuspecting poets over the years. My incalescent blood boils just thinking about it.

In case you were wondering, Michelle's words were:
theater
malaria
yield
incalescence
leaf

The poetry train has left the station...

I TAG the Art predator (because she's a new blogger and hasn't been tagged yet). You now must list at least 4 things a beginning poet should attend to and four mistakes you think a poet should avoid and tag someone else (if you want).

Weekend Writing Workout #9 - Objects, Images, and Incidents (#4 of 5)

2007-11-17T16:19:00.000-08:00

Yes, I am tardy with my Weekend Writing Workout.

I've been involved with FTX West these past few days, which is a growing Film and Television Expo in Vancouver, BC. It's got some really great people leading fabulous workshops at their conference. We (Women in Film) sponsored a pitch session with Laurie Sheer (media maven and all around great lady) this morning. Also teaching this weekend are Guerrilla film-maker Chris Jones from the U.K., Jeff Kitchen, and Blake Snyder (who wrote Save the Cat!, billed as "The Last Book on Screenwriting You'll Ever Need"). In addition to the conference, there's a huge exhibition over the weekend.

If you ever needed an excuse to come to Vancouver (other than the fabulous city itself), FTX would be it.

In any case... are you ready to ROCK your writing?

Back to my exercises around Objects, Images, and Incidents...

Here's a way to get into that mode of SHOWING instead of TELLING. Of finding the images within your story.

Part One

Pick a story you want to work on (short story, novel, screenplay, it doesn't matter) and for 5-7 minutes, write spontaneously - no stopping, no editing, no crossing out - starting with the line This is a story about...

Write it as a LIST, beginning with that line each time. WRITE OUT the line, do not write " " to repeat the line, as writing the actual words allows you to generate the next thought. This is important. Set a timer and just go.

Example:

This is a story about guilt. This is a story about love. This is a story about redemption. This is a story about loss. This is a story about a father losing his child. This is a story about taking responsibility for one's actions. This is a story about a man who needs a friend. This is a story about a man who needs to participate in life again. ETC.

Part Two

Go through your list and find one of the things your story is "about" that really resonates with you. Then, for another 5-7 minutes, list as many IMAGES (from your story) that you associate with that idea. Don't stop to think, don't edit, just write them down. Even if they sound silly, even if they don't make sense to you at the time, write them down.

Example:

This is a story about loss
Empty bottles strewn around Winston's house
Boarded up windows
Winston sitting up alone in his bed, middle of the night, awake
Margaret working alone late, at her desk, small lamp on, Janitor knocks on door
Margaret eating in a restaurant by herself, mostly empty, raining outside
Winston's pool, no water, leaves covering the bottom
Winston's ex-student leaving a pizza on the porch
ETC.

Part Three

Now the really fun part. You get to write a scene! Pick one of the images above, one that inspires you, and use it to generate your scene. Remember to consider all the images in the scene, which is actually an incident. So your image is moving you to create an incident around it.

Example:

Margaret stares into Winston's pool. There is no water. The bottom is filled with a season's worth of leaves. A plastic patio chair is half buried beneath them. She surveys the patio. A second patio chair sits overturned in a bush. She approaches the chair and pulls it out of the bush.
"What are you doing!" a voice shouts from the house. Margaret looks up into Winston's unshaven face in the window. He holds it open an inch. His hair is uncombed. "Leave that alone."

ETC.

Write on and have a great weekend.

The Word on Wednesday

2007-11-14T17:57:00.000-08:00

I don't actually say much about myself or my work on my own blog, so thought I would indulge. This week's W.O.W. is a little bit of self-promotion.

I was recently interviewed for PIF magazine by Derek Alger. I have to say, Derek was very nice and quite thorough and one of the only interviewers who actually sent material for my approval. We spoke on the phone for an hour and he was very enthusiastic.

PIF bills itself as the longest running on-line literary magazine. They have some great interviews and material posted. I was quite impressed with their site and very honored that they chose to interview me. Please check them out, it's well worth it. Be careful, though, last time I visited I was there for at least an hour reading interviews and some damn good poetry.

* * * * *

Also in the world of Danika... I thought I'd post this for my friends, family, and fans. Sometimes pictures speak a thousand words:

The Accidental Novelist "Before" (4 1/2 years worth of dreadlocks)

The Accidental Novelist "After" ( 15 minutes of Zoe's scissors)

Change is good. And I feel 10 lbs lighter. (anyone need any extra hair?)

Monday Poetry Train #11

2007-11-12T23:57:00.000-08:00

Ha! It's 2 minutes to midnight, still technically Monday. Just under the gun. Jumping on the train.

This week's Poetry Train entry was inspired by Poefusion's Friday Five. Michelle lists 5 words each week and our job is to write a poem using those five words. Sound easy? You should see the words she picks each week! She's making us work for it, that's for sure.

Love Us

I have arranged my heart with you
a formation of willows, bending
bedward we are
bedouins lingering in
vagile dreams we require
request, conquest, each
crepuscular creation means
we see each other anew
as plural us, our
nation, kin against
the hierarchy of history
loyal and free
nomadic across the we

words this week: vagile, plural, formation, willow, crepuscular

Weekend Writing Workout #8 (The Postcard Story)

2007-11-10T09:58:00.000-08:00

I'm posting something a little different this week for the Writing Workout. It's a break from the usual in-depth exercises. Everyone I know seems ultra busy right now, so I thought this was appropriate.

I was inspired when I read about a contest sponsored by the Writers' Union of Canada (not to be confused with the Writers Guild of Canada). The contest is called the Postcard Story Contest and it's open to all Canadian citizens and landed immigrants (sorry, Vicki).

The challenge is "to create a dramatic, short, snappy piece in only 250 words. You can use humour, poetry, dialogue…anything goes."

This type of fiction is often called Flash Fiction or Micro Fiction. I'd always admired it, but had never tried it. I've written plenty of poems, some of them narrative, and many short stories. However, I think the shortest story I've ever written was still over 1,000 words. This sounded like a great challenge...

Many of you know I love challenges and often do them in 10 day spurts. Well, this opportunity was no exception. I got two friends together and we decided to write a postcard story every day for 10 days. We're on our last day today.

Here are some different ways to approach your workout:

1) Write a story in 250 words or less. If you have no idea how to begin the story, I've supplied you with several start lines below. You can also just randomly pick a line from a book you're reading. When I was writing my stories I would simply crank out a bunch of first lines until one inspired me and I continued. That's why I have all these leftover first lines.

First Lines:

She packed everything except the salt and pepper shakers.

He was the biggest kid in the class at 310 lbs.

As soon as he had mailed the letter, he regretted having done so.

When he awoke from his dream, he had the answer.

If she was going to leave him, it was now or never.

There was only one person left on her Christmas list.

I buried the dog on Monday.

The zoo was empty.

He walked up to the blackboard.

Example Postcard Story:

Final Chapter

When he awoke from his dream, he had the answer. The final chapter for his book. A way to end it that was not contrived, not maudlin… a way to imply “happily ever after,” but not in fairy-tale manner, in a way anyone could believe might happen. He stumbled out of bed. It was 3:15 am. Where was his laptop… no, forget the laptop, this had to be written in ink, writer’s blood, it had to flow like his dream… his dream… He had been dreaming of Samantha. Of how she had looked at 17 and he was fresh from the Navy. He met her at a café. She was a waitress studying art history. He was a writer disguised as a servant of the government. She saw right through him. He left poems on napkins for her. He asked her to marry him by writing the words on her bathroom mirror. She said yes in red lipstick. He stumbled through the hallway, bathed strangely in green light. Without his glasses on, it looked as if he were underwater. The walls breathed like gills. He didn’t remember the house having so many pictures. Ghostly figures in large frames followed him until he reached his office. The door was closed. The doorknob so cold it caught him off guard. Then the smell, subtle, yet unmistakable, the perfume Samantha had worn every day for 50 years. He opened the door and was enveloped in the light.

2) If you are working on a screenplay or novel right now, why not try a series of postcard stories about your characters? You might write a series of five postcard stories about one character, or one each for five different characters.

3) Join the challenge! Write one postcard story a day for 10 days. If you're Canadian, enter the postcard contest for a chance to win $500.

Post the stories on your own blogs and link below.

The Word on Wednesday

2007-11-07T22:15:00.000-08:00

I've had several folks ask me why the WGA writers are on strike. What it comes down to is the pay structure for multi-platform and new media. There's currently nothing in place to assure writers will be compensated appropriately for this work. Where they could get residuals for shows broadcast on television, this doesn't exist for the internet. Writers have actually written webisodes (which are downloaded by viewers and chock full of advertising revenue) and not been compensated for them. In addition, writers make about .04 on each $20 DVD sale (and we all know DVD's cost about .15 to make so who's keeping all the money?)

Watch the following videos to hear it straight from the streets of Hollywood. We Canadian writers need to pay attention to this as it will affect all of us in the long run. And be sure to visit United Hollywood for daily news and updates.

THE WORD on WEDNESDAY is a weekly column here at the Accidental Novelist about writers and writing.

Monday Poetry Train #10 - Will You Play Along?

2007-11-04T20:27:00.000-08:00

Hello Poetry Train Riders!

I thought it would be fun to have a game/contest and hope you hop on and play. (you don't even have to be a regular poetry train rider to play)

I've rearranged 36 words from part of an old poem of mine to make a new poem. There are 6 words in each line and 6 lines in the poem.

YOUR job is to rearrange the words to form a new poem. Each line must have the SAME amout of words in it. So it could have 2 words per line and 18 lines, 3 words in 12 lines, 4 words in 9 lines, etc. You get the point.

Here's the poem I came up with:

landscape is a form of character
reaching into leaves a wasp nest
licked together by an orchestra of
tongues wild and orange sliver for
moon impeccable shadow some kinds of
beauty you just have to trust

Everyone who rearranges the words will be in the contest and I'll pick one winner (along with an anonymous judge and any of you who would like to vote for particular poems). I'll send a little poetry package to the winner.

Take a RIDE on RHIAN'S poetry train

Weekend Writing Workout #7 Objects, Images, and Incidences (Part 3 of 5)

2007-11-02T21:30:00.000-07:00

Yup, time for another Weekend Writing Workout. Gotta keep those brain muscles in shape.

This weekend we continue on my object, image, incident exercises. Todays focus: Incidents.

Incidents come in all sizes. I primarily focus on small incidences, not news-shattering items. Every day occurrences that stand out. For instance, today while I was in a waiting room, a young child put a plastic stool up to the counter and stood up on it. One of the legs collapsed and he fell. He cried until his mother picked him up. The other day, I sat down on the bus and picked up the paper sitting in the seat to read it. An old lady behind me, with a thick German accent, said "You don't want to read that, it's for the gays." She raised her eyebrows when I responded "I don't mind" and the man behind her started laughing.

These are small incidences that I tuck away in my mind to use later. Observations on what it is to be human and useful when writing about humans.

But let's begin even SMALLER than that.

Exercise #1

I encourage my writing classes to find the smallest incidences possible in order to find the larger truths within them. So, that's what you're going to do. You'll have to go outside (if possible). It's kind of challenging to do this one inside your own home, but you can try it if you'd like.

Wander around or sit and locate any "small incident." Not between human beings, but between the grass and the trees, the clouds and the sun, the chipmunks, the neighbor's cat, even the blades of grass. Pick something, the smallest "incident" you can and look at it politically.

For instance:
The clouds blocking out the sun.
One cat chasing another through a hole in the fence, guarding its territory.
A leaf falling from a tree and getting caught in the wind.

Using the incident as a start line, simply let it take you away. Start with the incident, describing the participants (in this case leaves and the wind), and then simply let it take you away. Time yourself for 7-10 minutes (may be done in poetry or prose).

Example:

The leaf, now dead, now over, tumbles down, turns, flits, too weak to direct itself. Its job description simple, the distance equal to the third act in its performance. Caught off guard in the wind it blows off course, if such a course exists. If such a path could be bought and sold. Now helpless, now bullied, it gives in to the breeze and crashes end over end in the street, passing parked cars and fences, the house being demolished and the house being built. In the direction of the park, now rolling faster... ETC.

Exercise #2

This one is done in a public space (again, if possible), on a bus, in a cafe, in the park. This time, note the people interacting. Note any small incidence that involves power, manipulation, deceit. Something a little "under the surface" would be good, or if an emotion is evoked. Using the same technique as above, write for 7-10 minutes on this small incident.

Example

Sitting side-by-side, two gangly, acne-faced teenagers with long uncombed hair and ratty baseball caps. One says they are looking for Sarah, for Sarah's school. He points to a bus stop and says "that's Sarah's stop." His smaller friend tells him he's retarded. The larger boy says "I was born in 200 log cabins." His smaller friends says "How is that possible, unless you were born in parts and assembled later?" The bigger boy thinks this is funny, he laughs and says "cool." They pick up a drum beat, singing loudly about tattoos and skateboard stores. The Asian Ladies shift their grocery bags and frown. Big boy wants a free skateboard. Wants to skip school and go to the store.... ETC.

Exercise #3 - Putting it all together!

Now, using a character from a story (novel, screenplay, etc) on which you are currently working, pick one (or both!) of the exercises above and put your character inside the "incident." Make her a part of it. You can try it twice with each incident or use them together if you'd like. Write a SCENE, this time, with action and dialogue.

Example

Polly walked through the scattered leaves. The leaves William had raked into great piles the morning before. The wind had taken no time to mock his work. It wouldn't have bothered her if he had gotten angry about the leaves, flying fiercely about the neighborhood. He had simply laughed and shrugged. So typically Bill. She used to like that he took things so lightly, that he could let the days and months and seasons go by... ETC.

You may be surprised by where you go in this scene and may end up using it in your final manuscript.

Have a great weekend!

(TT Substitute) What Risks Have You Taken Today?

2007-11-01T13:35:00.001-07:00

We interrupt the regularly scheduled Thursday Thirteen for this message:

What have you done to push your comfort zone today? How have you stretched yourself? What risks have you taken? What fears have you pushed past?

An ex-student of mine from Vancouver Film School is testing his own faith and trust. It's a long story, but in a nutshell, he decided to spend all his money giving people what they needed. On nothing but a hunch, he went down to an underprivileged neighborhood in Los Angeles and simply started asking people what they needed. He bought clothes and food for one family, a single hot dog for another man. He decided that he was going to raise one million dollars and give it all away in this manner, by cutting through the middle man and simply handing people what they need. He's had a wild journey working on this, and has changed directions several times figuring out what exactly he needs to do with this hunch.

Less than one week ago he found out that a friend of his sister's was dying. She was being kept alive by a dialysis machine and had decided to pull the plug. She didn't want to suffer any longer and her family had given her their blessing. He decided that she should be given a last wish by someone, so he asked her what she wanted.

What she wanted was a motorcycle for her Father. He had taught her to ride and that was their connection. Jim asked around for people to help, but no one stepped forward, so he bought it himself. ON HIS CREDIT CARD. He didn't have the money, but he bought it for her anyway because he felt this was a test of his faith in his idea.

Here's the link if you'd like to watch the story on our local news: View Streaming News
and then click on WEDNESDAY - the story is 13:25 minutes into the broadcast.

If you'd like to see more of Jim's journey, check out his WEBSITE

I was inspired by Jim to think about what risks I take in life and inspired by this story to think about how I spend my life, which could be cut short at any time. Where are my leaps of faith? When do I stop myself? How do I approach my fears?

Risks come in many different packages, from "risking" telling someone how you feel about them to the risk you take when you send your work to producers and publishers to financially risky things like purchasing a motorcycle on credit in order to do a good deed. But what are we really risking? I think the more important question is what are we risking by NOT doing these things?

To follow our dreams, we need to take risks.

So, today I challenged myself to take at least one risk every day. To do something uncomfortable. Something that also meshes with my goals and dreams. Today's risk was contacting a producer (out of the blue, cold contact) about a writing gig. She may ignore me, she may think I'm silly, she may not like my writing. But by not contacting her, I'm not even giving her the opportunity to accept me, to think I'm amazing, and to love my work.

Seems like a no-brainer to me.

Yay - I'm Excited About This One!

2007-10-30T00:39:00.000-07:00

I'll be the first in line!

(click poster for website to see trailer)

(I removed the trailer because there was no way to shut the darn thing off)

Monday Poetry Train #9

2007-10-28T23:12:00.000-07:00

I dug this one up from my 2000 files. Another unpublished one, having been dropped from a manuscript because I wasn't completely happy with it.

All these poems have inspired me to write poetry again, so thanks to all the folks on Rhian's Poetry Train for that. I have started a new series and will post some soon. In the meanwhile, an oldie...

formless (pt. 1)

whether time is a reasonable mode of transportation

whether transportation is a reasonable measure of time

I am not the poem

the poem is empty

stripped

of form

a hundred clouds move through the sky

like the monkey that escaped from my car

and became lyrics to a song

or was it a rain pellet

I forgot the melody

rather being movement itself

lingering by a vast body of water

there among the exploded nothing

without form I need no temperature

without form I need no tangible sustenance

I can’t even say float

because that would imply scales or wings

it is more an invisible wave

come to pass through the unexpected ear

that moves

from heart to tear

He said the painting made him cry

was it the brushstroke or the color of the

complete image

was the artist manipulating him

to prove a point

or was he himself crying

and wished someone would hear

was it the softness of the female figure

or the expression that triggered

a memory

and remembering

he was crying

exited the room

formless

Weekend Writing Workout #6 - Objects, Images, Incidences (Part 2 of 5)

2007-10-26T19:29:00.000-07:00

This is a part 2 of a series of writing exercises around objects, images, and incidents. I constantly use exercises around these three things in my own writing and in my workshops. They make excellent jumping off points.

This weekend, let's focus on IMAGES.

You've probably heard writers and instructors of writing chant SHOW not TELL a hundred-thousand times. One of the ways to do this is to constantly come back to the image. As you're writing, ask yourself, if this were a movie, what would I see on screen?

IMAGE LISTING

EXERCISE #1

Here's a nice warm-up exercise if you just want to write, but aren't working on anything in particular.

Take a walk outside for 10-15 minutes. Do not talk with anyone, do not write anything down, simply observe anything and everything as you walk. Make a mental note about what you see. Sometimes I say hello to the images as I notice them. It sounds silly, but it works. Something like: Hello tennis shoe hanging over telephone wire... hello dead crow in the green grass... hello blonde twins boys on the monkey bars... hello ant playing tug-a-war with another ant over a bread crumb... Any image that strikes you, make a mental note.

Then, go inside and LIST as many of the images that you saw. Don't do anything other than list them at this time:

Black tennis shoes hanging on telephone wire
Mutilated dead crow in green grass under tree with spring blossoms
Blonde twin boys in blue jackets swinging towards each other on the monkey bars
Black BBQ in the empty parking lot at the firestation.
ETC.

Give yourself 5-10 minutes to make this list.

Then, go through and circle the images you really like. When I do this in my workshops, I have other people pick three lines for you. Pick ONE line and use it as a starting off piece for a poem or a piece of prose. Write for 7-10 minutes without stopping. Then go back and edit it.

EXAMPLE

A black BBQ in the empty parking lot of the Fire Station as if
young men had to interrupt hamburgers on a warm blue day
to attend a meeting
no sense of emergency
lid closed
who would secure a lid if sirens were blaring?
who would take time to bring in the mustard if
flames leapt across homes?
who would bring in the trash, the bag of buns, the relish
who would manage the utensils
if bells were jarring the senses?
no, everything from this picnic walked away
the blue-uniforms still wear their crumbs
there may even be dishes to wash
but for now they digest their bit of summer’s end
and let the BBQ rest
for there is no rain

EXERCISE #2

If you'd like to do some backstory work, pick a character from your current story and think about images that come to her mind when she thinks about her childhood.

We all have images from our childhood that we've attached meaning to. When I think of my childhood, some of the images that come up for me are the huge almond tree in my front yard, my dad's tools in the garage, the 500 National Geographic magazines my parents refused to throw away, and our large square record player that was more a piece of furniture.

Think about your character's past. What images come up for her when she thinks about her childhood? Make a list of at least 10 images, the more, the better.

Once you have your images, select one. Let's say my character thinks about her father's broken watch that sat on the counter for months. Take that image and set your timer for 7-10 minutes. Write about the associations that come with that image. Do not stop or edit your work.

Startline: When my character thinks about ____________, it always reminds her of...

EXAMPLE:

When Polly thinks about her father's broken watch on the counter, it always reminds her of how many broken things she has in her life. Things get broken and don't get put back together. The basement window, the lawn mower, the reclining chair... how many things have to break around her until she breaks? Until she can no longer be put back together...

EXERCISE #3

Using the same idea of image listing, pick a scene from your story that you'd like to work on. Let's say I want to work on the scene where "Mavis confronts Prof. Herbert's wife, Terri."

Take 5-10 minutes and do an image listing exercise around this scene. What do I see in my mind as this takes place? Set your time and do not stop listing images, even if you are unsure of them. You don't have to use them for anything later, and you don't want to miss anything that comes to mind.

(BTW - if you ever need to think about a scene before you start, simply write "The scene I need to write next is when..." and write spontaneously for 5-10 minutes)

EXAMPLE

Mavis kicks Terri's door
Terri in a grey sweatsuit with paint stains
Mavis in her nurse's uniform
Terri and Mavis drinking wine on the back porch
Terri showing Mavis a photo of her son
The full moon when Mavis steps off the porch
ETC.

Then, write the scene starting with whichever image you want. It doesn't have to be the first thing that happens in the scene, it just needs to launch you into it. Keep all the other images in mind as you write.

EXAMPLE:

Terri and Mavis sit on the back porch, feet on white stools, a bottle of red wine between them. Mavis has removed her nurse's cap and Terri has a bathrobe on over her sweats.

"He's no demon, you know," says Mavis.

"I know," says Terri, "It's just easier to think of him that way."

ETC.

Have a great weekend writing and if you'd like to share your exercises on your own blog, put your link below.

Thursday Thirteen #15 - 13 start lines to 13 books

2007-10-25T18:04:00.000-07:00

TT logo by Goofy Girl Designs

Opening lines... they're tough to write. They've gotta draw people in, set the tone and the style and perhaps even the theme. I was examining the start lines of a few books and was intrigued by their uniqueness.

Below find the first line or two from 11 novels, one diary, and one short story. If there was a preface, I skipped it and went to the first chapter.

I think you'll have heard of most of the authors (and perhaps many of the books), but it was hard to find well-known books whose first lines didn't give the book completely away. (like this one: "In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.")

Do you know what books these are from? I will post in the comment section as people guess them right. Personally, I think the hardest ones will be #11, #9, #7, and #5 - I picked them simply because I liked them, not because I thought anyone would guess them.

UPDATE
ANSWERS will be revealed as they are guessed

The TRUTH revealed by The Accidental Novelist

It was a bright, defrosted, pussy-willow day at the onset of spring, and the newlyweds were driving cross-country in a large roast turkey. - Skinny Legs and All by Tom Robbins
I can feel the heat closing in, feel them out there making their moves, setting up their devil doll stool pigeons, crooning over my spoon and dropper I throw away at Washington Square Station, vault a turnstile and two flights down the iron stairs, catch an uptown A train... (Naked Lunch guessed by Superfast Reader)
"When your mama was the geek, my dreamlets," Papa would say, "she made the nipping off of noggins such a crystal mystery that the hens themselves yearned toward her, waltzing around her, hypnotized with longing. (Geek Love guessed by Megan)
Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.
(Anna Karenina - guessed by Superfast Reader)
An Octopus? He pulled out his knife and opened his eyes, it was a dream. - Troubled Sleep by Jean-Paul Sartre
Once when I was six years old I saw a magnificent picture in a book, called True Stories from Nature, about the primeval forest. It was a picture of a boa constrictor in the act of swallowing an animal. (The Little Prince guessed by Janet)
There was no hope for him this time: it was his third stroke. (Dubliners by James Joyce - I should have counted this as a short story, too, I suppose)
We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold. (Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas guessed by Superfast Reader)
The day had gone by just as days go by. I had killed it in accordance with my primitive and retiring way of life. - Steppenwolf by Hermann Hesse
Through the small tall bathroom window the December yard is gray and scratchy, the trees calligraphic. - A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers
Ten thirty... once again I'm ready too soon. My friend Brague, who helped me when I first began acting in pantomimes, often takes me to task for this in that salty language of his... - The Vagabond by Colette
The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could; but when he ventured upon insult, I vowed revenge. ("The Cask of Amontillado" guessed by Susan Helene Gottfried)
In Spring it is the dawn that is most beautiful. As the light creeps over the hills, their outlines are dyed a faint red and wisps or purplish cloud trail over them. (Hint - this is a famous diary, not a novel.) - The Pillow Book by Sei Shonagon

Have a great weekend everyone!

Monday Poetry Train #7

2007-10-22T00:29:00.000-07:00

How's this for a funny little poem I found in my files.

Concrete Designs on Things Less Tangible

spring cleaning for ghosts of past lovers

my sword of Damocles

we are all fragile vases containing the same big air

the news headline at breakfast:

trade made for player to be named at a later date

(1999)

Jump on Rhian's Poetry Train Y'all!

Weekend Writing Workout #5 - Objects, Images, Incidences (Part 1 of 5)

2007-10-19T23:15:00.001-07:00

Using objects, images, or incidents is a great starting point when you have writer's block, or when simply warming up for your writing day. In this Five Part Series, I will introduce you to some of the exercises I use in my classroom and in my own writing practice.

Let's start with OBJECTS.

There are numerous ways I use objects in my writing. For spontaneity in my writing workshops, I have everyone write random objects on pieces of paper and we draw from them for each exercise. You might try this on your own, just keep a little bag full of pieces of paper, each with a different object listed on it. (umbrella, drum, coffee mug, little red pillow, etc.)

Sometimes, when I'm on my own, I simply look around the room and pick something. It doesn't really matter what the object is, it's simply a launching point to get you writing.

The Precious Object Exercise

1) Decide which character you are going to develop / work on for this exercise.

2) Pick a random object, let's say a drum.

3) Imagine that this object is the MOST precious object in the world to your character.

Set your timer for 5-7 minutes. Using the start line below, write (without stopping, without editing) until your timer goes off:

The most precious object in my character's life is her...

EXAMPLE
The most precious object in Helen's life is her drum. It was the first thing she bought after her divorce. It's cracked from too many moves and she can't play it anyway. She has terrible rhythm. At the time, when Steve left her, she felt she needed a drum. She took her drum to weekly drum circles for 6 months and the sound of the rest of the drummers drowned out her own rhythm. It was like beating something without hurting anything. She needed that, to beat something, but to not cause harm. She was a Buddhist after all...

(If you have the time, you can go into the MIDDLE of this exercise and pull out a line and write for 5-7 more minutes, using that line as a start line. I think doing this THREE times is best. It gets you quite deep into it all)

4) Decide what scene you are going to write.

5) Decide who will be in this scene with your character. (example: Helen's mother and brother)

6) Write your scene, incorporating your object, and starting with this line:

"What are you doing with that?"

EXAMPLE:

"What are you doing with that?" Helen asked her brother Mark.

"What, this thing?" Mark held up the drum, "As if you ever use it."

Helen marched over to Mark and pulled the drum from his fingers. "That's not the point."

"Helen, it's dusty," coughed her Mother, fanning the air as if the drum dust were cigarette smoke. "Why are you keeping that silly thing. You're a grown woman for God's sake."

ETC...

IF YOU HAVE TIME write the scene a SECOND time, this time giving the start line to one of the OTHER characters. (in my example, Mark or Helen's Mom would have the start line "What are you doing with that?")

Have a great weekend. Write on!

AND A NEW ITEM! If you choose to do any or all of this exercise, post the results on your blog and leave your link here.

Thursday Thirteen #14 - All About Books and a Meme to Boot

2007-10-18T10:53:00.000-07:00

I was tagged for yet another meme, so I've included it in this special ALL ABOUT BOOKS issue of my Thursday Thirteen.

This TT is a bit random, so I'm organizing it into two parts.

I - My "reading challenge" progress (or lack there of)
II - The Book Meme

I. Summer Reading / Book Challenge Report

1) Since July 26 (the EXACT date I wrote up my Reading Challenge List), all of Vancouver's municipal employees have been on strike. Not only has this meant no garbage pick-up, it's meant no librarians. All the libraries have been closed for almost 3 months. And, since Baby and I are on a No New Book Buying promise (due to lack of space and having to move again in the near future), I was hoping to take advantage of the library down the street. Instead, I have had to depend upon book loans from friends and what we currently have in our own library.

So what did I read over the summer?

2) The final Harry Potter. I sped through it as fast as I was able, only staying up past 3 am twice. The conclusion was fairly satisfying (except for that horribly cheesy ending) and I admire how she tied up the loose ends (especially dealing with Snape, which I predicted, although his demise was totally anti-climactic).

Honestly, I was just glad the whole thing was over so that I could move on to something else. I still have the same issues with HP as I always have, and that is he is too passive a hero and I get very tired of how quick to anger he is. I bore of his screaming... There was a ghost character, for instance, that he began to yell at for no good reason. I also think that he has very little character arc. He seems quite immature at times, and not much wiser than he was 6 years before. In addition, I wish someone would bully JK into editing down her text and removing all her superfluous adverbs. (BTW- my friend Tod and I discovered a gaping plot hole, but that didn't really bug me too much for some reason.)

It really is a fun story, such a great world, and it has many other satisfying characters. I absolutely adore Luna Lovegood. The final battle was quite amazing as well. All in all, I understand why people love the books, though there are others I treasure more.

3) The Alchemist, which WAS on my list. This is a fable rather than a novel. It's a quick read and a feel-good story about following your heart. It's packed with little jewels of wisdom such as: When we strive to become better than we are, everything around us becomes better, too. Sayings that might come across as cheesy, but put in the context of the fable, they are sweet. I read it with a highlighter. I like the lessons and the manner in which the story plays out.

4) My fantasy adventure novel involves faeries, so I decided to borrow a friend's daughter's fairy books. The first one I read was for 2nd and 3rd graders. It was one of the Disney Fairy books called Rani in the Mermaid Lagoon. I can't believe this book got 4.5 stars on Amazon, because if I had a daughter, I would not buy this book for her. I found it condescending and shallow, as well as expository when it had the opportunity to use imagery. At one point, Rani goes through this fairly tragic event with a water snake, but then the mermaids do her hair up and paint her nails and make her look pretty again so gee, everything's all right! Yick!

NOTE: on Amazon it lists Rani for ages 9-12. They are on crack. There's no way with the sophistication of our readers these days that this book would titillate a 5th or 6th grader.

5) The second book I picked up was the first "Fairy Realm" book, The Charm Bracelet, but it didn't have any actual fairies in it. According to Amazon, it's for ages 9-12, but the book itself says 7-10. I can buy that. I liked it much better than the Disney book. The characters were far more interesting, that's for sure, but still not as clever as they could have been. It wasn't completely satisfying to me, but I wouldn't have an issue with my daughter reading it because the protagonist is independent minded and proactive. One pet peeve, though... I have this thing about overuse of exclamation points in literature! There were a lot in this book!

6) I next read the 2nd "Fairy Realm" book, The Flower Faeries, and enjoyed it more than the first. Perhaps the writer matured with the story. This one actually had fairies and they were way more fun than the Disney fairies. They were pesky in an amusing way. The story was a bit darker, more dangerous than the first. There was a lovely scene where the protagonist tries on a pair of wings. I think of the three fairy books this one had the strongest imagery.

7) I read The Phantom Tollbooth for the millionth time. I read it out loud to a student of mine on the set of Psych. As with all the kids I share it with, he loved it. The book fell apart halfway through, it's been loved so much.

8) Jeff Kitchen's book Writing a Great Movie. If you only read the part on dilemma you are doing yourself a HUGE favour. This is an excellent tool for screenwriters. I'm now using chapters in my classes at Vancouver Film School.

9) Do books on tape count? Baby and I listened to The Secret books on tape and both liked how it went more in depth than the film and also focused on more than just attracting personal financial abundance, but also larger issues that affect the world.

II. BOOK MEME

10) Total Number of Books I own: Sometimes, pictures speak louder than words. This is after getting rid of (sob) over 1/4 of our books when we moved and does not include the 40 books I also counted in our bedroom nor the 12 books in our bathroom (yes, we have a bookshelf in our bathroom).

Pic on left is in our living room
Pic on right is in our office.

11) Last Book Read: I am currently reading Skinny Legs and All (on my book challenge). Robbins had me at the opening sentence (which I will post on the next TT).

12) Last Book Bought: Rules for Renegades by Christine Comaford-Lynch (a self-made millionaire and self-proclaimed "renegade" entrepreneur). Yes, I said I was on a book buying hiatus, but she was having a pre-order special deal which gave loads of bonuses. Of course, due to the Canadian mail system, I have yet to receive the book. I heard Christine speak last spring in L.A. and she is AMAZING.

13) Five Meaningful Books:
I wasn't sure what meaningful meant... to me personally or to the world? Life changing? And meaning changes over time...

I decided to pick five books that impacted me when I was growing up and inspired me to become a writer:

All of the Oz books (because my Dad read them to me and they're fantastic)
Anything by Judy Blume and especially Are You There God It's Me Margaret (There's a new book called Everything I Needed to Know About Being a Girl I Learned from Judy Blume which I think it just about right)
Beezus and Ramona (All the Ramona books are wonderful, but I was was especially fond of this one.)
I, Trissy (I read this in 6th grade and for some reason it completely resonated with me. I think it was the honesty and humour. I loved Trissy's very real struggles and the fact that her father got her a typewriter when he divorced her mother)
To Kill a Mockingbird (I cried every time I read it.)

Okay, Vicki? (oh, and i'm reading that harlequin romance you sent, too. my first harlequin romance ever, seriously)

Monday Poetry Train #8

2007-10-15T23:13:00.000-07:00

I have a poet friend visiting from out of town, Jen Hofer. She's one of my favourite people and favourite poets. She's one of the original 3:15 poets with me from way back in 1993.

Since she is here, I asked her to participate in this week's poetry train with me. At 2 AM last night, we wrote two exquisite corpses together. Here are the specific rules we made:

1) Each line is 11 words long.
2) The poems are 11 lines long.
3) We each selected a book from my bookshelf and opened them to a random page and selected a random sentence to use as a start line (the freaky thing being that both of us randomly selected sentences with 11 words in them)
4) We left only 3 words showing for the next person, who would then finish the line with 8 words to total 11, fold the paper, and leave 3 words showing on the next line.

Considering it was 2 in the morning, I think we did quite well.

If the above explanation confuses you, just know that in an exquisite corpse, the previous person leaves no or only a few words showing for the next person to write from. It's a fun form, writing blindly like that.

POEM#1

Hermaphroditos was an outdoor type who roamed wild on Mount Ida.
Gods gone wild, gone windy, gone out the window past that
future we saw forests with no names, animals whose fur had
worn in patches or worn down at the elbows, knees, heels
to walk miles as a camel across dream deserts not knowing
how long until we traced and untraced footsteps of another
mammal body, another glance at the working muscles of it and
we can conclude only how utterly inconclusive the night sky is
and the day sings like leopard cubs and falls to its
knees with ironic supplication, mock awe for the real gods or
real awe for fine silver, slipping between the cracks, lost again.

POEM #2

We had a real feeling for the human element in it.
A real feeling like sticking a finger in a socket or
lightning striking twice into tree branches open, fern pattern fronding open
into electric ricochet, a bouquet of light and matter, my fingers
extensions of something we believed could not be extended or could
be extended if the ego attracted peacock attention. When the day
came that we, like the world, undid becoming further unraveled against
this violent and necessary moment, it was as if time had
won and cashed or lost and cashed, spent, trashed, jilted and
jolted into some jungle space, kicking and screaming, colliding with the
natural state of the state, if we can call that natural.

Jump on Rhian's Poetry Train!

Thursday Thirteen #13 - The Truth Revealed

2007-10-11T17:38:00.000-07:00

Last week I wrote eight things about myself (to fulfill a meme request) and five things about characters in my stories. I asked people to guess which were me and which were my characters. This week I reveal the answers...

1) I lost the spelling bee in 2nd grade because I couldn't spell the word "kiwi."
This is about me. I was mortified. It was the first round of the 2nd graders. I didn't even know what a "kiwi" was. I had been absent for some reason and had forgotten that the spelling bee started that day. To this day, when people ask me to spell things out loud for them, I freeze up.

2) I raised several thousand dollars for a cancer research center by holding a chocolate festival.
This is about me. It was awesome. Everyone was all dressed up and went from table to table eating chocolate. Yum.

3) I drove across two states to stop my best friend's wedding.
Well, I'm glad no one thought this was about me, although 15 years ago I wanted to drive across two states to stop my best-friend's wedding. Instead, it's part of the plot in my romantic comedy feature screenplay Chickens and Stars.

4) My first real job was shredding paper at a real estate office. My second was at Winchell's donuts.
This is about me. Shredding paper wasn't as dull as it sounds. I did this after hours and read a lot of the material before shredding it. I also vacuumed. After my job at Winchell's, I couldn't eat donuts for months.

5) I accidentally hit a blind woman's dog with my car.
Not me. This is from a short film I wrote. I picked something that sounded unforgivable and tried to make the audience sympathize with the drunk woman driving the car instead of the blind woman whose dog she hit.

6) I have taken formal Buddhist vows of refuge.
This is me. I graduated with my MFA from Naropa University, a private college in Boulder, Colorado founded on Buddhist principles, in 1993. It wasn't until a few years later, when I was having a spiritual crisis, that I took refuge. I even took a Tibetan language class for a while so I could chant the words properly.

7) I lived in Eastern Europe for a year.
Also me. I lived primarily in Prague (although if you call Czech's Eastern European they get a little snippy), traveled to Bosnia, Croatia, and Hungary, then spent a month in Vienna (although they also don't consider themselves Eastern European).

8) I was on top of a mountain in Colorado when a thunderstorm moved in. A man hiking below us was struck by lightning.
Also me. Scary as hell. I could feel the electricity in the air. I was crying and sure we were about to die. The man struck by lightning was picked up by a helicopter. By the time I got to where he had been, they were gone, but I remember blood on the rocks. I have no idea if he survived.

9) I fell and broke my arm while trying to find the Christmas present my husband had hidden from me.
Not me. A character from a short film script called No Peeking. In the script she gets progressively more injured as she seeks out the present.

10) I used to videotape my room at night in case there were ghosts.
Not me, but totally sounds like something I'd do. From another short film script called In Case of Ghosts. This short is being produced some time in the next few months. I'm excited, because it's always been a favourite of mine.

11) I make the best carrot-cake you'll ever taste.
This is me. My husband won't order carrot cake in restaurants because it never measures up. Vicki, if you're ever in town, I'll make you a carrot cake. :-)

12) The lenses in my eyes have been replaced by fake ones, which make me far-sighted.
This is me. I had premature cataracts in my eyes due to long-term prednisone use. I have fake lenses now. I went from being near-sighted to far-sighted overnight. It was a bit of a shocker and for a while I thought my writing life was over. Now I just wear reading glasses.

13) When my forest was hit by a mysterious curse, my little sister and I had to travel to Dead Mountain to find an excommunicated faerie.
Not me. I don't have a sister.

Have a great weekend! Watch out for that Mercury in Retro!

Monday Poetry Train #7

2007-10-09T00:34:00.000-07:00

Here's an unpublished one I found in my journal from our honeymoon in Greece. I've always liked it, though have never been quite satisfied with it. Suggestions welcome! Tell me what's working and what's not.

(BTW - if the spacing seems off, it's because I cannot for the life of me figure out how to get the tabs and spaces into blogspot - it always leaves them out! Grrrrrr!)

phobia

after too much food and drink
I take a walk in the night
while my husband does dishes
I turn down a dark street not
frightened by the dark street we are in
Platanes, Crete and the most dangerous thing
I can think of
is the uncertain sidewalk

a motorcycle takes the corner - heads
directly intentionally for me
and at the last second veers and speeds away
there isn’t any laughter
I could be less frightened
if there were laughter

back at our hotel prepared
with my motorcycle story
I find my husband on the floor
keep your shoes on he says I dropped a wine bottle
and there are shards in every corner
of the room - this is his fear
right now he is frightened by bits of glass

I keep my shoes on while we prepare for bed
no longer the motorcycle engine in my head
or its light blinding my eyes

when flying in planes with my husband
I figure one of us should not be afraid
as the plane dips I take
his damp hand and smile

I am frightened sometimes by herds of animals
of the way they all move at once
one thought becomes all thought
all thought becomes sudden

I am not frightened by cherry blossoms
although they are just as sudden
and of one mind but I’ve never
had to jump out of their way

and when they drop on stone floors
it is merely fragrant snow

April 5, 2004

Ride Rhian's Poetry Train! Yee-hah!

Weekend Writing Workout #4 - Defining Moments

2007-10-06T14:08:00.000-07:00

I give an exercise to my writing classes called "10 Defining Moments of my Life." It is inspired from a short story by Canadian Author Anne Fleming called "The Defining Moments of my Life."

It's a fabulous story first told from the perspective of protagonists' mother before she is born. What her mother fantasizes her daughter's perfect life will be like. It is then told again from the protagonists' perspective. Well, we all know, life is messy and doesn't happen the way we, or our parents, always fantasize it does.

The story is told in list form, each "defining moment" numbered. As the protagonist's life journeys on, the numbers get a little wonky. As does her life.

I've asked elementary school students to write the 10 defining moments of their lives and they come up with great stuff like getting their pet iguana and coming in first place in the school spelling bee.

When I give the exercise to my older students, they usually groan a little and feel slightly uncomfortable. But more than any other exercise I've given, the students tell me later it was their favourite assignment.

You can do this for yourself, as a personal journey. It's a really great exercise. Have you ever thought about the moments that have defined who you are and why you do the things you do?

Today, I'm recommending you write these moments down for any characters you'd like to develop. These defining moments are all backstory, the joyful moments, the painful moments, the wounds that make them who they are in your current story. Some of these things may never even be mentioned in your actual story, but keep them in the back of your mind. It will give this person a life before you met them on the page.

Here's how it works:

1) Make a list of the 10 Defining Moments of your character's life (or yours if you'd like to try this yourself)

2) From each moment, write at least 3 images that go with that moment. I want you to SEE it happening, as if on a movie screen.

example:

Father's suicide: briefcase, crystal bird, open door to balcony
Ran away from home: black limousine, red "otel" sign, stained carpet
Met Gary on-line: library, broken blue umbrella, wet streets
etc.

3) Now, for each defining moment, show us what happened. Write a paragraph or two. make sure to SHOW the story, don't explain what happened. Do it in visuals. I try to get my students to think this way, in images, as much as possible. It will make it more "real" in your mind if you can see it. And showing in your writing is always good practice.

You can tell it in 3rd person OR 1st person as the character.

Example:
Casey opened her eyes. She was lying on the couch. Her father's black leather briefcase, the one he had taken on his business trip, sat two feet from her face next to the coffee table. The room was cold and quiet. Someone had left the patio door open and the white curtains were blowing in and out like delicate sails. She had goosebumps on her bare arms. She looked down. Her bird, the crystal bird her father had given her, lay broken on the marble floor... (and so on)

Have a great weekend and Happy Thanksgiving to all Canadians out there.

Thursday Thirteen #12 - 8 Truths and 5 Lies

2007-10-04T13:07:00.000-07:00

Vicki tagged me with the old "8 things about you" meme. Since I hadn't yet done my Thursday Thirteen, I figured I would merge the two.

So, below, EIGHT of these things are facts about me.
FIVE of them are things about characters in my stories.

See if you can guess which are about me, and which are about my characters.

1) I lost the spelling bee in 2nd grade because I couldn't spell the word "kiwi."

2) I raised several thousand dollars for a cancer research center by holding a chocolate festival.

3) I drove across two states to stop my best friend's wedding.

4) My first real job was shredding paper at a real estate office. My second was at Winchell's donuts.

5) I accidentally hit a blind woman's dog with my car.

6) I have taken formal Buddhist vows of refuge.

7) I lived in Eastern Europe for a year.

8) I was on top of a mountain in Colorado when a thunderstorm moved in. A man hiking below us was struck by lightning.

9) I fell and broke my arm while trying to find the Christmas present my husband had hidden from me.

10) I used to videotape my room at night in case there were ghosts.

11) I make the best carrot-cake you'll ever taste.

12) The lenses in my eyes have been replaced by fake ones, which make me far-sighted.

13) When my forest was hit by a mysterious curse, my little sister and I had to travel to Dead Mountain to find an excommunicated faerie. (just seeing if you're paying attention)

That was fun! Sort of like "two truths and a lie" only on a grander scale.

I'm supposed to TAG someone for the meme now... hmmm... well, I'll tag POST MODERN SASS and CAMMIE IN BLOGLAND just because I haven't before, so they are the least likely to kill me for it. CAMMIE and SASS - you are to write in your blog 8 things about yourself. (you don't have to do the lying part, that was my twist on it. Although that was fun.)

Monday Poetry Train #7

2007-10-01T15:49:00.000-07:00

I was looking through my old virtual files and found this little poem. I don't remember writing it. I hope I did. It's not my usual style, but I think it was from a time when I was unemployed and discouraged.

I do not know who Sylvia is.

applicant

I am responding to your recent posting
for a reader-of-words I have extensive
experience petting grass I am very
fond of sunshine and spent the last
few minutes of my time absorbing
the warmth from my window I get
along well with leaves and pinecones
did I mention my degree in solitude?
during my previous position as a
singer-in-the-shower I was responsible
for prioritizing soap bubbles I would
be happy to solve any riddles or provide
a means of transportation to the center
of anything thank you for your time
and consideration love Sylvia

1.28.03

Join Rhian's Monday Poetry Train

13 Reasons I Have Been Absent in Blogland

2007-09-29T21:36:00.000-07:00

I missed the last 2 Thursday Thirteens. I've barely had time to check my e-mail in the last 2 weeks, let alone post a TT. A few of you sent private e-mails to see if I was okay, that was sweet, thanks! I'm fine, just busy. :-)

1) Baby and I finally took our (mini) summer vacation to the SUNSHINE COAST. This is where we've decided we will live some day soon. We left our computers at home.

2) While on the Sunshine Coast, we took a hike to SKOOKUMCHUK NARROWS. This is NOT a river. The rapids are created simply by the rising and falling of the ocean tide through a narrow area that connects two inlets.

3) I aided in organizing the PLEASE ADJUST YOUR SET Campaign Launch, which took place last Monday night. This is the culmination of a three year study on the status of women in film and television in British Columbia. The results... things haven't changed much in over 20 years. It's the same all over the world. Women are still not significantly represented in "above the line" positions (i.e. those with creative control over content).

4) Women in Film and Television Vancouver hosted our annual opening night party for the 2008 Vancouver International Film Festival, MARTINI MADNESS, this year held at the elegant Macaroni Grill:

5) And speaking of the Vancouver International Film Festival... I went to the opening film ATONEMENT, a British film based on the Ian McEwan novel. Run, do not walk, to see this film if it comes to your town. I'm sure it will have a theatrical release, just don't know how it will do competing with all the Hollywood blockbusters.

6) After the film, I attended VIFF's own opening Gala Event. They had yummy food and a fashion show. As the night progressed, the models wore less and less clothes. At the end, they came out in tops and underwear. I am not exaggerating.

This is me with actor Mackenzie Gray (a wonderful supporter of Women in Film) and production coordinator / fellow Women in Film boardmember Robyn Wiener

7) During this time I was also teaching classes in the writing department of Vancouver Film School. I have a new class this term that I just love. It's a feature film workshop. Basically, we read student's scripts and discuss them. How fun is that?

8) I rode my bike to the doctor. I got a prescription, which I still haven't filled.

9) I attended the Telefilm reception for the Vancouver Film Festival. I started to lose my voice from all the receptions and galas.

10) I've been promoting and working on WIFTV's own film festival, which takes place in March. I'm the festival chair. We're now accepting submissions. Tell all your female film-making friends.

11) I've been working on getting my short film Make up the Dead out of post-production. We're getting there... it should be done by mid-Oct. Yay! That's me in the blue cap looking directorly. Sitting next to me is fabulous DOP Kelly Mason. Let's hear it for camerawomen!

12) Took a shift Friday at the Women in Film booth at VIFF's annual Trade Forum. Unfortunately, I didn't get to attend any of the forum talks! But I did have a good time chatting with participants as they came and went.

13) And, don't laugh... amid ALL of this, Baby and I have been house-hunting. Yes, in our spare time. We even made an offer on a house last week. We didn't get the house and are still hunting... tomorrow, I'm going to buy a bigger gun.

And yes, I still wrote every day, even while on vacation (by hand).

So, what have you been doing to occupy your time? Can you believe how busy our modern day lives are? Do you look at your own schedule and want to pull your hair out?

Monday Poetry Train (a delinquent #7)

2007-09-25T00:51:00.001-07:00

I believe it is still Monday somewhere. Probably Hawaii.

I have been inspired by the PT to write more poetry. Aside from our annual August romp, poetry and I had gone our separate ways several years ago, wishing to see others. We had been together for 20 years and needed a break.

We have slowly started to see each other again, and are testing the waters. We'll see how it goes.

petitio principii

I exist
therefore I am

I write to you in your existence among plums
a creation of my existence
this is a material fallacy
I love you
therefore you are
the existence of love
among plumes
as hope is a thing with feathers
but without the rest of the bird
will not bring you home

my heart hears
through doors
my dreams leap like disasters
once there, you kissed me
twice
it was all me, on the outside
inside
I think
therefore
I look up words in dictionaries
the task of domestic animals
leaning into drunk-with-love ears

I love the way you love me
with anger
it begs the question
as love exists to prove love

Take a ride on Rhian's Poetry Train.

Mid-Week Writing Workout #3 - How to Unstick your Stuck

2007-09-18T09:22:00.000-07:00

Yes, my workout is a little late. I'm giving you a large dose, though, because I will be out of town Thursday night through Monday. Baby and I are finally taking our summer vacation... haha.

Sometimes I'm writing "hot" and completely in the flow. Other days the writing is sluggish and it's challenging to get into the story. This often happens if I take a few days off from the writing. I need to get refocused. But sometimes, my mind just isn't there.

When this happens I always turn back to my old stand-by. This exercise always manages to push me through my writer's block and launch me into the work. I'm sure I've used versions of these in the "Start to Finish" Assignments. Of all my exercises, these are the ones I come back to the most.

(These exercises were inspired by Jack Remick and Bob Ray over at The Weekend Novelist. They were two of my mentors in the University of Washington screenwriting program.)

1) Set your timer for 5-7 minutes. Pick one of the following start-lines. Write in short sentences, using repetition if necessary. (i.e. This is a story about love. This is a story about revenge. This is a story about a girl who grows up too fast.) Keep writing, do not cross out, do not edit your work.

This is a story about...

The story I'd like to write is about...

The scene / chapter that needs to be written is about...

(if I'm in the middle of a screenplay or novel, I tend to use the third line, because I usually know what needs to be written next, but starting with the first two are equally helpful)

2) Go to the middle of that piece of writing and pull out a line. This will be your next start line. Using the CHAINING technique (the last word in one sentence is the NEXT word in the following sentence), write for 7-9 minutes.

i.e. Brigitta thinks the faeries are being frivolous. Frivolous because they are more interested in parties than the decisions the Elders are making behind their backs. Backs turned on history and lineage. Lineage that dates back 1000 years and is written in secret books kept...

3) Go to the center of the exercise from #2 and pick your next start line. This time, write in ONE LONG SENTENCE using conjunctions to connect each thought instead of periods. Set your timer for 10-12 minutes. Keep writing!

Now write your next scene! You'll find your thought are much looser now.

BONUS exercise

Write your next scene twice. Once in SILENT MOVIE fashion, meaning, only what you would see if it were on screen. No thoughts, no dialogue, just description and action.

Then, write it only using the dialogue. See what kinds of conflicts you can create this way. Write it in quick one-two rhythm, back and forth. Stay off the "nose" - meaning, don't have the characters say what they mean. Have them cajole, dodge, bribe, exaggerate, seduce, or manipulate instead.

Have a great week!

Monday Poetry Train #6

2007-09-17T10:16:00.000-07:00

Since Susan requested to see the rest of this poem, I thought I would oblige her.

This is from a small sequence called "Winter Sonnets," which had no particular rhyme/meter, they were all simply 14 lines long, which many contemporary poets consider "modern sonnets" (sometimes referred to as 14ers). I don't recall any publishing any of them.

Bernadette and Phil are Bernadette Mayer and Phil Good, two poets who were visiting from out of town. This was originally written in late 2001.

moth storms

bernadette and phil watch the
women cooking in the night across
the yard single window lit three sisters
without any love but their own and strong
cooking is intimate sustenance and
bittersweet rosehips drying on the table
waiting for tea the mountain ship of white
in the distance like us luxurious spies
with red wine and a back porch

i have taken shelter of poetry for
granted and forgotten to remember my
dreams but as winter hibernation
introverts my guilty pleasures
bend to let the moth storms in

Have a great week, y'all!

And don't forget to drop by Rhian's Poetry Train.

Thursday Thirteen #10 - 13 LAST lines from 13 poems

2007-09-13T23:09:00.000-07:00

13 Final Lines from 13 Poems

I figured you might be getting tired of my 13 first lines from 13 poems routine, to I mixed it up a bit. Here are 13 LAST lines from 13 original poems. And I'd be happy to share any of these whole poems on my next Monday Poetry Train. If memory serves, only one of these is a published poem, the rest are simply hanging out.

my guilty pleasures

bend to let the moth storms in

escaped from cages after stoned nights of apathy

when things fell unclean around us

every other thing

is a holy relic. and i am the suffering christ.

we lose touch with our feet

in the courtyard

beasts join us

praying that we didn’t ruin a good thing

praying that there will be good things to come

your laughing eyelashes

teasing angels as they plant cedar trees

in beaded robes

if he could be my body guard

I’d have another drink

round like a heart beat dangling in

the hopeful future

your pen is beautiful arrangements

warmer

your music too

10)

i draw puzzles for words

and hurt all over like a woman

11)

when we fall free and easy

into our

most memorable kiss

12)

you are inside

on a fine christmas shopping day

tender butterfly taking off

and landing

13)

I love my love it is what I have

when your heart is missing the point

Most of these were written in 2001 and 2002, when I was a better poet then I am today. It was in my life more often. But I seem to be coming back to it.

Have a great weekend.