One could go on and on forever talking about anything, but I'll just touch on it here.

Monday, June 29, 2015

Writing Buddies

Two women, decades older than I, for some reason like to drive across town to my neighborhood Starbucks once a month and sit reading their poetry or critiquing my story with me. Often only one can make it, sometimes none of us can, but when we meet I return home happy, energized, inspired, and thankful. As mothers, readers, and amateur writers, we have much in common. We share stories of our kids, our travels, our education. We talk about rejection slips and fear of submitting work for publication. We laugh till our eyes run dry, but I can't even tell you what exactly we laugh about. (Except for when they tried to think of a pseudonym I can use for my romance-novel writing career—'cause that's where the money is! Ha!).

They tell me they wish they hadn't waited so late in life to take writing so seriously. They laugh at me if I say I feel that I've waited too long. They tell me what it's like to have grown sons and to get to spend time with them and travel, and I feel hope that my son will still want to be around me when I'm their age. They tell me my date nights with my husband are SO IMPORTANT.

When I get writer's block, want to scrap the short story I've been working on for over a year, start feeling bored or down on myself that I'm not any good as a writer, I remember that we are meeting soon. We communicate by e-mail, even if we can't meet in person, and they give me honest feedback on my work, as I do for them. I come away with new ideas, new vigor. They recommend books, authors, and websites that I can go to for further inspiration.

But reading their own poetry gives me inspiration aplenty. A scientist and a minister, these two share knowledge, grace, truth, and wisdom through their written words. Sometimes they reflect on a time of life, a moment in history, a tree in the yard. I peek at the world that was and is, get a glimpse through their lenses and refocus mine. I feel blessed to sit side-by-side with these authors who want to sit beside me. When I'm in my 60s and 70s I hope I can be a part of a writing group with younger women (and guys too) and continue the blessing.

Creative Commons Image courtesy of Denise Krebs

Monday, June 1, 2015

Two Years Young

-Do you want to put on your shoes?

"No, walk on toes."

-What else do you want to eat?

"Else . . . um . . . maybe applesauce."

-Can you say Thank You?


-Will you let me read you a story?

"No, Geddy's turn."

-Do you want to go outside?

"No, play with toys."

-I'm going to take a shower. What show do you want to watch?

"Watch Little Brown." ["Guess How Much I Love You] Or "Watch Clifford." Or "Watch Cookie Monster."

"Go Daddy. Go garage."

-Put on your shoes please.

"No, Mommy's turn."

-Do you want some juice?

"Yeah, OK! Me too!"

(Toys all put away in a box.) "Mommy, please, get the cars!"

(Raining) "Go side. Walk rain!"

(He won't let us read him a bedtime story.) -OK, it's time for bed then.

"Mommy, read book!" (Happily climbs into a lap.)

-Geddy, please share your toys.

"NO! Mines!" (Hugs toy or toys tightly to chest.)

-Do you want to go visit Liam?

"Yep! Amen's toys." (He calls his friend Amen. Sometimes he gathers up a bunch of toys as if to take and share, but then he leaves them home.)

(The house creaks.)

"Mommy, sound. Creaking."

-That's the house. It's OK.

(Daddy comes downstairs, comes home from work, comes out of the bathroom.)

"Hi Daddy!"

(Luke kisses me before he leaves for work.)

"Geddy, kiss!" (Gets a kiss from Daddy).

(His friend Liam has his birthday; four days later Geddy has his. He can't stop talking about it.)

"Amen, birthday. Geddy, birthday. Happy birthday!"

-Did you have a fun birthday?

"Yep. Kids. Bubbles. Blue one. Ball."

-How old are you now?

"Two!" (Shows five fingers, then in deep concentration trying to only hold up two like Mommy showed him.)

-Geddy, I love you. Go to sleep.

"Piwwo fight!"