Murmur

Murmur

unreliable whispers

in sturdy iambic pentameter

potent demonstrations

detailing the art of concision

erratic circumspection

around the mechanics of desire

intoxicating philanderer’s

account of foolish gallantry

intermittent sentience

verses articulated amid bedmates

to count the quickened beats

of stridently tolling hearts

in adversity, murmur

in question, clamour

hushed breath

                blatant curiosity

master rhymer

                of old-fashioned quatrains

murmur

**

In the middle of my writer's block came this poem.  I'm still staring at 'Burden'.  I feel close to tears because so much of it is in my head playing like slow moving pictures but I can't get it down on the page.  I'm creatively constipated.  It's uncomfortable.  

Sad about Lou Reed.  Sad that it's Monday and that it's almost November.  Winter is coming.  I'll have to start wearing socks.  Blerg.

In propinquity,

Nic

From the Desk of a Blocked Writer

Uh oh.

I had the best of intentions to write after work last night.  I wanted to write.  I arrived home, ate a quick meal of Sunday leftovers, curry and naan bread, threw on my jammies with fuzzy slippers and fired up the computer.  I plunked my notes and the pages of ‘Burden’ on my desk to continue on.  In all of that aspiration, I spent a full hour gazing at a blank screen, mocked by the slow blinking cursor.  Admittedly, ‘Burden’ is a slow moving train and I’m really still listening to the sisters for the crux of the story, of why they appointed me to tell it.  Certainly there is a purpose, as with every story, the characters want and/or need something.  

I am six pages into their lives.  It wavers back and forth between the present and the past to highlight the behaviours and believes of each woman.  I think.  I hope.  Honestly, I am having a bit of trouble tapping into Judy’s personality because at first she’s such an asshole for lack of a better word.  It’s hard for me to write her meanness, her lack of humanity and her coldness.  I accept the challenge of course and understand it comes from somewhere but I’m still waiting to hear.  As for Helen, she’s endured a lot growing up alongside Judy and so she’s coming from a completely different perspective.  I feel myself on her side and I need to straighten out and be objective and be fair to my characters.  Not favor one over the other and I feel like Helen is soaking up my empathy at a rapid pace and I’m saving my disdain for Judy. 

Maybe this is why I hit a brick wall last night.  I tried to work out the block, determining whether or not it was just because I was tired from a long haul at the day job, or if my desk is too cluttered, or maybe it’s just my noodle is messy.  Whatever it is that caused me to fall flat on my face, hindered my creativity for a whole night.  I worry it will spill into today too.  I’ve been writing steady for a long time and it was actually painful to be mute, to be without one single thought or flash or note scribbled.  I tried music and pacing, I tried reading my pages aloud, and nothing.  Finally I closed up shop, watched a bit of TV and allowed myself to breathe.  I glanced once more at the pages when I crawled in bed but I didn’t want to jinx myself, get a sudden burst of thoughts and disrupt the night’s sleep I desperately needed.  So, I tucked into Elspeth’s book, her self-published gem, ‘Sole’.  I am grateful to her vivid characters for making me forget my writer’s ache and entertaining me to the point that even when my eyes were heavy and close to sleep I was still squinting to read.

I don’t expect a lot to happen writing wise today but I think I’ll continue to fill the well and see what happens.  I have Zumba after work so perhaps the hip shaking exercise will loosen some of the resistance.  Tomorrow evening I am attending the book launch for ‘Fallsy Downsies’ by Stephanie Domet at The Carleton.  I finished it yesterday on my commute home.  I savored the pages to extend my time in the story because I loved it so much.  If you’re looking for a good read, buy the book and meet Lansing Meadows, follow his tour.  I am hoping the launch and reading will further inspire me and help me get back on track with ‘Burden’.  Right now, I feel like it’s a big old mess.  But, I’ve been here before and I’ve come out the other side in one piece, overcoming obstacles and achieving some sort of success in the name of finishing something. 

I hope my uh oh turns into a yee haw soon.

In propinquity,

Nic

Look At Us

Look At Us

you saved my life

one evening beneath the stars

no signs to guide us

just your clever words

your confidence

keeps balance in the world

I am again with you today

saving your life in the sun

with the lure of writing

opening up before us

the wide expanse of the sea

the broad flight above the bay

between earth and cloud

between space and wet sand

we are right to marvel

we are right to travel

forward

together

look at us

look at you

look at me

our voices loud and laughing

sailing off beyond a mast of trees

mapping out colors with wings

skimming the tops of our heads

by some saving grace of heart

of starry nights and sunny morns

our presence upon this surface

faces the glory of light in which

we are made

**

My wonderful writer friend Haley will probably kill me for posting this but I found it today and feel like it needs to be shared.  She and I did a writing exercise based on the enclosed photo and mine came to me poem form.

I am working on 'Burden' and this sort of melted my heart thinking of my characters and their circumstances. It seems as fitting as it does opposing.  Eventually that will make sense, as in, when my story is complete.

I hope she will forgive me, after all, I'm pretty cute.

In propinquity,

Nic

A Quote by Carl Jung

“The artist’s life cannot be otherwise than full of conflicts, for two forces are at war within him [or her]—on the one hand, the common human longing for happiness, satisfaction and security in life, and on the other a ruthless passion for creation which may go so far as to override every personal desire … There are hardly any exceptions to the rule that a person must pay dearly for the divine gift of creative fire.” —Carl Jung

Too Much Happiness

Too much happiness, it’s an Alice Munroe title but it’s also been the global reaction to one of Canada’s most esteemed writer’s Nobel Prize win for Literature.  It’s especially happy news for women writers, for Canadian literature and in particular, the short story format – which Munroe excels and has also re-invented with her indelible command of the English language and her propensity for building unforgettable characters.   It is exciting news for me; I am Canadian, a woman writer and someone who has been working hard to be good at short story writing.  I don’t know how far I’ve come in that goal but it’s a blessing just trying.  It’s also a joy to see someone as treasured as Alice Munroe acknowledged for her stunning work, for her dedication to a craft I respect and love.

I read a fantastic interview with Ann Close, Munroe’s editor since the late 1970s and she said some wonderful things that struck me.  On Alice’s work she said: “Her work as the quality of making you think she’s just writing for you.  It’s fiction written from the inside.”  And this:  “Alice writes about the smaller parts of growing up, or marriage, or you’re leaving somebody.  She often gets things people don’t often write about.”  Such lovely things to say about an incredible woman and writer.  High compliments.

One other thing that seeped in while reading her interview was a comment she made about writing.  She said this:  “If you aren’t writing something you really care about, it won’t work.”  She is absolutely right.  I’ve been thinking about that statement, going back over my previous stories and applying that premise.  It’s true and I realize the reason that I finished any of them was because I was writing about subjects and for characters that I cared for deeply.  And they worked.  So, next time I am wondering why something isn’t panning out, I’ll keep that tiny assessment in the back of my noodle and apply it.  And, I can’t remember who said it so I’ll paraphrase and agree that when you read Munroe’s work, she seemingly goes anywhere she wants and we go with her.  I love that ideal, of a storyteller having free reign to take you anywhere they want to go and a reader willingly follows.  That’s symmetry, chemistry, literary fate. 

I regret not posting about this sooner but I’m having internet issues at home and would rather spend my writing time working on original work.

In terms of what I’m writing right now, ‘Burden’ has me perplexed but in a challenging and positive way.  I’m about five pages in and I have absolutely no idea where it’s going but I’m taking it all in stride.  Judy and Helen, sisters, are such different creatures, such opposing personalities and complexities.  The story is told from Helen’s point of view but I wonder how different it would be told from Judy’s, who is the contentious sister.  I am too deep now to change the voice and Helen is the one who asked me to translate but the devil’s advocate in me wonders.  It’s taken some interesting avenues and thrown me into places I’ve never been before emotionally and these women have also taught me a few things thus far.  That’s a good thing.

For now, I am putting my literary fate in Helen’s hands and have agreed to go anywhere she wants to go.   Seems that little notion works both ways.  Hmm …

In propinquity,

Nic

Steinbeck Redux

Just an extension of the fantastic Steinbeck quote I posted earlier.  This, a wee post as I am heading out of a wonderful Thanksgiving weekend full of friends, family, blessings and two turkey comas.  I'm back in full swing at my work desk and back to writing.  I meant to write this past weekend but I was busy socializing, eating and reading and resting.  I did scribble but I've gotten a page more into 'Burden' today so that's all that matters.  I'm attending a writer's 'meeting of the minds' tonight with my Open Heart Forgery friends and look forward to that. I'll be sure to get somewhere early enough to have a bite to eat and read more pages of Stephanie Domet's excellent new novel. I started reading it yesterday and I'm half way through.  I should slow down as to savor it but I need to be done for next week when I attend the book launch at The Carleton.

Today, new records by East Coast favorites The Stanfields AND Adam Baldwin are released.  It's a good day for music!

Things to look forward to this week:  Matthew Good Friday evening at the Rebecca Cohn and a pumpkin adventure on Saturday.

Back at 'er!

In propinquity,

Nic

Rudy Redux

It isn't quite Thursday yet but here's a bit of literary 'throwback' for those of you who have read the last short story I posted titled, 'Too Much To Contain'.  When I was writing the 'big bad' this is the mask I emulated for Rudy's 'event'.  It scared the slippers off of me much like the act of violence did when it was in my dream, put them together and blammo! I hesitated on sharing because I wanted people to see it in their imagination without an aid but now that the majority of friendly readers have read and commented, I thought it okay to share.

Gives me chills.  

Egads.

I wrote a little bit more today on 'Burden'.  I'm curious about the direction I was led in today but I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation.  Maybe I'm also writing out of order but we'll see.  It's complex and I want to write with abandon but it also requires a great deal of care.  It feels good, as Ruthie wrote about today in her blog, to have finished something and it also feels really amazing to still have more work to do on new projects.  Even when I am overwhelmed by the ideas I am grateful to have them at all.  

Gah.  That mask.

Off to buy books after work.  For gifts, you know.  And, maybe one for me.

In propinquity,

Nic