Five Reasons Why You Should Listen to Sioux About the "Listen to Your Mother" Show

1. Sioux doesn't lie--at least not about this. Now, when I was pulled over last spring for going 78 in a 60, I did lie (by omission) and didn't open my mouth and say the truth, "It was a reeeeally good song on the radio. It was Uptown Funk," when the officer asked why I was going so fast. At least he was a nice guy and only wrote it for 70...

You should submit a piece to the Listen to Your Mother show. They're only taking submissions until February 17 in St. Louis.

2. They're open for submissions. Right now. Like, this minute. At least they're open in St. Louis. Writers around here--check it out. (Cathy and Lisa--check out the details for the Atlanta show.)

3. You're treated like you're royalty when you're in a Listen to Your Mother show. In St. Louis, the three producers-directors treated us to dips and chips and cookies (oh, my!) at the rehearsals. We guzzled mimosas the day of the show. We reunited in the summer for a BBQ when the videos hit YouTube. 


4. You might get some swag along with the notoriety. In St. Louis, we each got a new pair of designer shoes. The whole cast went to a shoe party and drank wine, nibbled on snacks, got massages, and tried on shoe after shoe after shoe. 

While at the shoe party, I held a shoe execution. My daughter and granddaughter (both quite stylish and both haters when it comes to my Crocs) came to the party and--as promised--witnessed me cutting up with scissors one of my favorite and well-loved ratty-looking pairs of Crocs.

I'm willing to do the same thing this year if I end up being part of the show. Which pair of Crocs might be heading toward the guillotine? Check out this beauty:

        And before you get to salivatin' over these stylish kicks, don't get too jealous. Yes, they're fancy Crocs knock-off Crocs, what with their swirly pattern. I know they're extra-special because they were purchased from the Five Below store (where everything is $5 and less). No, they don't have straps any more. Those were cut off a long time ago. And yes, these Crocs are sneaky as crocodiles. They look stylin' on top, but the soles have several holes. Hence my willingness to part from them... forever.

5. You don't have to have had a June Cleaver mother in order to tell your story. You could have had a good-for-nothin' mom. You could have been a rotten mom. Or dad. Google "Listen to Your Mother" videos on YouTube, and get inspired... 

      ... and then submit.

Getting Back in the Groove

         Here's what has happened in the last week:

• I forgot to include a picture for the next week's Back-of-the-Book Blurb Friday, but I'm including it now. (Scroll down to the end of the post.) Of course that means that the dozens of writers who participate now only a few days to ponder their blurb, instead of an entire week. 

• I did not finish my WIP by the end of June (like I planned on) but I am hopeful praying that it will happen this week. And I came up with a marvelous decent better title than was originally stuck on it. (The WWWP Critique Society. That was what I originally slapped on this pile of papers. Doesn't that sound like a confusing snoozer?) 

• I finally used one of those digital random-izers scrawled names on scraps of paper, closed my eyes and picked on so the winner of a copy of Fevre Dream could be ascertained... and the winner is 

Cathy C. Hall.

• I finished my Dexter binge-watching (very disappointing from the fifth season on) and am now onto Downton Abbey. (I know. They don't go together at all.) I finished Augusten Burroughs' latest (a great read). I get to work on a project tonight that involves drawing/zentangling. Hip hip hooray!

       Hopefully next week I will be fully back on track. But I wouldn't put money on it... (And please come back on Friday.)

This is the cover for your next fake book.
Think about it between now and Friday.
For some of you, this guy might look too close for comfort...

Back-of-the-Book Blurb Friday # 11

This is a weekly writing exercise. But it's also supposed to be fun. Write a book blurb for the cover photo below. And you only have 150 words (or less) to do it.

• You choose the genre of your prospective novel. Is it a mystery? Chick lit? A romance? A sci-fi story? A horror story?
• Post your blurb on your post... and then link your blog, using the charming Mr. Linky below. (It's really easy. If I can do it, anybody can do it.)
• Make it enticing. A book blurb is crafted to seduce the reader into buying the book. But it has to be enticing and succinct.
• Check out the other linked blurbs, and leave a comment. You'd be surprised how different our inspiration is, given the same photo. 
• If you enjoy writing or reading these, head to Lisa Ricard Claro's site. Lisa was the brainchild behind this book blurb idea many years ago. However, don't expect her to reply if you leave a comment and say, "Thanks," because she's on an international romance writers' conference tour right now. Her keynote address--each time she speaks--is called, "They Don't All Have to Have Brimming-Over Bosoms On the Cover, Do They?"

      The photo for the next week is also included, so you have some think-time...

Dusty's Last Trail

         Dusty had been a cowgirl all her life. She rode. She roped. She strung barbed wire with the best of 'em. Her callouses, her sore joints, her skin as breeze-browned as an acorn... they were all proof that a woman's as good as a man. Most of the time.

         But when she celebrated her 35th year of life, Dusty wondered. What else did life have in store for her? When she got too stiff to climb into the saddle, what would she do?

          One day, her uncertainty overwhelmed her. She slid off Beckett--one of her favorite horses--and swatted his rear end playfully. "Go on Beck. Go home." Dusty jammed her hands into the pockets of her blue jeans, looked around, hung her hat on the first fence post she passed... and headed out on the biggest adventure of her life. (141 words)

       This is the photo for next week. It's from morguefile, just like the picture above. (Thanks, Cathy C. Hall). Hopefully some blurb will bubble up in your brain about this character...

Where is SOAS When I Need Her?

        This weekend I went to New Orleans to present at a national conference. When I got there, I found out Barry Lane was going to be there. Barry Lane! Squeal! Squeal! Shriek in such a high-pitched fashion, only bats can hear. I know--Barry Lane! 

         If you're not a teacher of writing (and probably if you're not specifically a teacher of elementary or middle-school writing), then you might not know who he is, but trust me--to lots of teachers, he is a god.

         Here's a bit of what Barry Lane is like...

      Now, I should have learned from Cathy Hall. Whenever I go to any workshop or conference, I should take Sioux-on-a-Stick, because a person never knows when they're going to be reduced to a drooling groupie and they desperately want their picture with the god/goddess and they never have a good hair day but they have no choice... unless they have their alter ego on a stick.

      Of course, Cathy-on-a-Stick looks lovely. Hair perfectly in place. A blazing-white smile. COAS is attractive, just like the real-life Cathy. And Sioux-on-a-Stick looks very much like the real life Sioux. Except not so lovely as the lovely COAS.

Here is SOAS when she went on Val's tour.
SOAS made a surprise appearance at Val's gas-station chicken spot.

       So, when I found out Barry Lane was going to be part of the program in New Orleans, I felt fortunate I at least had my ipad packed and charged up. No SOAS tucked away in my suitcase, so I had no choice. I'd have to take a selfie to prove to all my writing friends that I got to schmooze a bit with Barry Lane.

I know. I'm blurry. I have a couple more where I'm in focus, but I kind of like
being a blur. And guess who took each of the selfies that I have?  Barry Lane.

      So, when I saw this leprechaun-like man walking ahead of me (leprechaun because he's magical), I pounced. (Thankfully it wasn't the Lucky Charms guy, it was Lane.) Since I just recently figured out how to reverse the camera to take a selfie, Barry Lane ended up taking the pictures. (Most likely he would have done anything to get rid of me, so taking a few photos was easier than chewing his own leg off...)

       Take Cathy Hall's advice so you don't end up like I did. Take your stick version with you to conferences and workshops and concerts. In fact, take your stick version with you no matter where you go. 

      'Cause you never know who you'll run into...

     
 

When to NOT Follow the Rules

      Anyone who knows me knows I am a strict rule-follower. For example, when I wrote an underground newspaper in 7th grade, it corresponded with this rule:

* Middle-schoolers are a crazy bunch and must rail against the system.

    I am also known far and wide for my adherence to fashion rules. Oh, Oscar de la Renta, before he died, swooned (and often fainted, he was so aghast) over my fashion choices. The rule I stick to:


* Crocs are appropriate in every situation. A black tie event? Black Crocs, of course.


    Here comes the sticky wicket when it comes to rule-following. NaNoWriMo is coming up, and there is no way in not-heaven (as Val is fond of saying) that I want to start another project. I don't have another novel novel idea in me. The well in me has run dry when it comes to that long of a fictional project.


    However, I do have a NaNo from cough*cough*cough (several years ago--more than two coughs, Cathy C. Hall). Last year, I scrapped the whole thing and started--more or less--from scratch. It's been slow slogging, and now I have 20,000 words on the page (and lots of mashed potatoes under my belt).

Here is a picture of my original NaNoWriMo novel. It will be lining my guinea pig cage...whenever I get a guinea pig.

     I was a NaNoWriMo participant last year, and the other writers in my writing critique group (the WWWPs) called ourselves NaNoWriMo Rebels. We adored many of the components, but--for the most part--were not strictly adhering to the rules.


     Should I be a rebel again? I know I can't keep up with the word count (I teach third grade and it's a brutal year, workload-wise) but I benefit from the nudge prod electric cattle prod that NaNo provides. There are write-ins that I've enjoyed participating in. 

      I figure that however I can add to my word count, I should do it. But what do I call myself, since I was a NaNoWriMo Rebel last year? I need a new name on a new badge to pin onto myself, since it's a new year for NaNo.

      Any suggestions?

Know Yourself

      It's crucial to know yourself...to know what works for you...to stay true to yourself.
      In the spirit of self-awareness, I thought I'd share a few tidbits of self-discovery I've unearthed.

•        It's important to know what kind of workplace you require. Recently, I've been reading about how sitting for too long is bad for you. But if you write, not writing long enough is bad for you. So, what's a writer to do?

       Take a look at my new desk. It allows me to stand up and write.

This was a birthday present this summer. It was a little under $5000 but is soooo cool and soooo worth it

.

 *

•         It's vital to know what you can and cannot do. Know your limitations and don't angst over them. Cathy C. Hall has her prankster sidekick, Cathy-on-a-Stick, and this mischievous imp is beautiful. Her hair is artfully styled. She has a lovely expression on her face. (It makes me want to stick a screwdriver into one of her tires. Cathy, what kind of car do you drive?)

                       I can't do that (the looking pretty on a photograph part--the screwdriver part? Easy). So, I had to figure out what I could do.

This debut of Sioux-on-a-Stick occurred in Val the Victorian Land.

 
           I can do crazy. I can do whackadoo. I can do self-deprecating. However, I need a new name for my alter-ego. Cathy-on-a-Stick had me served with a subpoena a few days ago. It seems she has her name copyrighted, and doesn't appreciate having her turf tromped on. I must cease and desist. Immediately. (Who knew a tiny woman stuck on a piece of wood could have such a sophisticated vocabulary?)

          So, if you have a great suggestion for my stand-in, please send them over.

•    It's critical to know what will energize you or what will get you out of your funk. Right now, when Paramore's "Still Into You" comes on, I'm bopping along--I can't help myself. Just about anything by One Republic does it for me as well. Sometimes snuggling with my puppy (when I'm not writing ads to give him away ;) will do the trick. For others, it might be cooking up a storm, or running/exercising. And apparently for this baby, Katy Perry has the key to happiness...

 

          So, don't forget alternative suggestions for my picture-on-a-stick. (Are you happy now, Cathy-on-a-Stick? I didn't even get close to infringing on your rights that time.) And if you're so inclined, you can share what things you have found out about yourself that have brought you more peace...


        And as a slight digression, assume good intentions. When someone--a colleague, a friend, a family member--says something that offends you, assume they meant well ...and have a dialogue about it. An angry monologue shot towards someone does no good. You never know. The offender might have a completely different background, and are speaking out of ignorance. They might have been gently joking (and humor is sometimes difficult to convey on paper). They might have simply worded things in an awkward way and didn't mean to hurt anyone. Assume. Assume and then ask ... 

* Of course this is not my desk. I have seen one like it, and they are cool, but what a preposterous price. My "stand at" desk (I think) is going to be an old sewing cabinet, with a turntable case on top of it. I think I've measured correctly, and with my laptop on top of it, it's the perfect height. And it's free.

Go, Go, Go--ReviMo!

      Do you have a picture book that is collecting dust? Do you have a picture book manuscript that needs some serious slashing and burning revising? Have you been procrastinating busy, and keep shoving that picture book draft to the side? If your answer to any of those questions is "yes," this is the nudge foot up your rear encouragement you need.

      Cathy C. Hall got me on the trail of Meg Miller's ReviMo. If you're interested, you need to register by Saturday, January 11. Different from the NaNo 30-day nightmare, you only have to focus on your picture book from January 12-18.

      I have a picture book manuscript. I have a long, tear-stained story about past publishing attempts (a story I will never tell) when it comes to this manuscript...but now I have a new publisher in my sights, which means I need to shine it up and get it as spiffy as possible.

    This is just the prodding I need. Thanks, Cathy and Meg. In seven short days, I will have a new and improved picture book (she said, as she pulled the draft out of a drawer and blew the dust off. Ooh, even a spider had made its home on one of the pages, the writing had sat there dormant for so long...).

Tag!

          I've been tagged. Yes, that's what happens when one is fat and slow-moving--it's easy for them to lose a game like "Tag."

       But wait. This is the kind of game I can play while I am procrastinating mulling over a current work-in-progress.

       Cathy C. Hall tagged me. Or maybe it was Cathy-on-a-Stick. (You never know about that one...) Cathy answered some writing questions, and then passed the torch, for a burning inquisition...

What are you working on right now?

        Right this moment, I'm working on a submission for Chicken Soup for the Soul. I also used to have a pet snake--several, in fact--and am planning on writing a piece to send to Publishing Syndicate for possible inclusion in their Not Your Mother's Book...On Pets.

          As far as something lengthier, I began a "longish" piece last November during NaNoWriMo. It's a little more than 60,000 words long right now, and is currently the object of much colorful language called "The WWWP Critique Group and SD Society."

How does it differ from other works in this genre?

      Well, for one, it's not finished. (Duh.)

       It's a mash-up of novel/cookbook/collection of essays. It's part marathon and part sprint. It's been dormant for a month or two, but I think I've found the thread I need to weave throughout the whole thing. Only time will tell...

Why do you write what you do?

      I began this novel monstrosity longish piece with just a kernel of an idea at its core. It almost immediately morphed into a vehicle that could honor an endless parade of people---my close friends, my granddaughter, my critique group, the authors I adore, blogging buddies--because the story centers around five fierce women writers. With my clumsy deft hand, I could manipulate the characters to rant about Rush Limbaugh, to stalk Jean Ellen Whatley as an ardent fan, to drool over Khaled Hosseini. 
     That's why I was writing it...And at some point, the story took over, and I'm no longer in control.  

What is the hardest part about writing?

       It depends on the project. Sometimes it's the title. There's lots of times I come to my critique group and have to beg and plead for a title. There are other times (like with the piece I'm bringing tomorrow) where the ending is suckola. (And I know that odor when I encounter it, believe me.) Sometimes (very occasionally) the hard part is keeping up with the story. On rare, magical moments, the piece tumbles out all by itself. I wish that happened more often...

       Now it's time for me to tag three people. Tammy. You're it. Val. You're it. Lynn. You're it. Oh, and along the way back to the "safe" spot, I brushed past Shay. You're it, too.


  

The Kind of Sugar That's Calorie-Free

 

 

 

 

Lynn Obermoeller got this award, and then passed on the award to some of her blogging friends, which ended up being all of my blogging friends, so I'm going to have to find some strangers on the street to give this award to.  (Thank you, Lynn.)

 

The Rules:

• Thank the Super Sweet Blogger that nominated you.
• Answer five Super Sweet questions.
• Include the Super Sweet Blogging award image in your blog post.
• Nominate a baker’s dozen (13) other bloggers.
• Notify your nominees on their blog.

The 5 Super Sweet Questions:

1. Cookies or Cake? – Cake, with lots of frosting. 
2. Chocolate or Vanilla? – You mean there's another flavor besides chocolate? Are you sure?
3. Favorite Sweet Treat? – I have many favorites. Fudge. Chocolate nut heaps (a family recipe cookie). Ted Drewes' hot fudge macadamia sundae. I could go on and on and on... 
4. When do you crave sweet things the most? – I am an equal opportunity addict. I eat to celebrate, I eat to wallow. I eat when I'm bored, I eat when I'm stressed. It's always dessert time somewhere in the world...
5. Sweet Nick Name? – Suzy-Q, which coincidentally is the name of a chocolate, cream-filled snack cake...

    Okay, I can count, but I couldn't stand on the street corner any longer in order to get 13 names of bloggers. The police kept circling around, thinking I was hooking for dry-erase markers, so I am a little shy of a "baker's dozen," but here goes:

 

Kim

Shay

Pat

Katie Gates

Cathy C. Hall

Jennifer Brown Banks

Lisa Ricard Claro

Mary

Janel
Pat Wahler
Kathy and Her Kampground


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Let It Snow, Let It Snow...And Let the Words Flow

      As much as I've joked about snow storms in March and April and even freaky ones in May (in my hope that we get another snow day or two we get enough precipitation to help our plants this spring), I did not want this one that came in the middle of the night (and it's still snowing). After all, my spring break begins tomorrow and I have family in town and things to do and places to see.

photo by land [e]scape

      But not today. It's too slippery and my car's too low-to-the-ground.

      Today, with me all pumped up and no place to go, and my daughter and son having plans for lunch and a movie (in spite of the snow), I'm writing.

       I began a submission for Publishing Syndicate's Not Your Mother's Book On Cats and I plan on finishing it up today. And then sending it off. (There's a May 1 deadline on those submissions.) 

       I also have a self-proposed deadline. I'm working on a longer project, I'm going on a writing retreat with a wonderful editor-friend in early June, and so I hope to get at least a completed rough draft done by then. (The retreat is at an abbey, so there are no distractions--all weekend!)

       (Part of the story has evolved into a road trip, and I got a Trip-Tik from AAA, so I can research some off-the-beaten track places the characters can stop at along the way. Today seems like an ideal day to make some progress on the plot.) 

          If you're snowed in today, what are you doing? And if you're Lisa or Cathy and you're sippin' on a mint julep right 'bout now, enjoy.

        

     

Super Writers

My son-in-law and my granddaughter...Daddy obliged his daughter and posed as the Hulk to her (I think) Ironman.
Can you tell this was a Superhero Christmas?

As writers, we have to think of ourselves as superheroes. We have to slip on our cape to shield ourselves from the rejection so that it doesn't hurt too much...

We have to put on our power belt, so that we can get rejuvenated and replenish our energy supply when we run low... 

And we have to strap on our photon-shooters/arm-blaster thingys so we can shoot down our inner critic who whispers in our ear, "Your writing sucks...You'll never make it as a writer. Just give up, why don't you!"

If you want to be inspired about a goal you really can achieve during 2013, check out Cathy C. Hall's post at The Muffin today, entitled "Just for Today, For a Writer."  And hopefully you're having a great start to this new year.

Another Fairy Tale

           Once upon a time in a land far, far away there lived a community of writers. Each one of them had their own little castle, and met every evening so they could chat, procrastinate about writing, and sip beverages.

photo by Gary Shield Photography

         "Aaah, a community," you might say, and you perhaps envision a group of writers who only had altruistic intentions. Thoughtful authors. Collaborative creatives. 

         You'd be wrong.

         Just like in Chuck Palahniuk's brilliant (but twisted) book Haunted, these writers tried to sabotage each other...in creative ways.

          Some of the sneakiness involved food. Fireblossom got the whole kit and kaboodle hooked on Bolthouse Farms Vanilla Chai Tea. One evening she brought several bottles and soon, every single one of those writers was bellying up to the upturned, empty jugs like guinea pigs at their water bottle, desperately trying to get the last drop. Lynn served up some spaghetti (a la Nora Ephron) and everyone gorged themselves. Tammy whipped up some stuffed tomatoes (Oh, how healthy? Au contraire.) that made even one writer swear off her decade-long avoidance of pork and beef as she stuffed them into her gaping piehole. (Later, this writer could be found hiding in a corner, with mayonnaise smeared around her mouth, mumbling, "Bacon...yum.") Even Donna Volkenannt
brought to the table a potato salad recipe. After everyone tried it in their own little castle's kitchen, they all looked like potatoes...

        Some of the sabotage centered around diversion.  Beth would regale the group with tales about her travels. South America. Australia. Her beauty (tall, skinny bitch) along with her hypnotizing stories got all the writers off track. Val would lure her colleagues into her blog, baiting them with wry, pointed posts and then would hook them again...because as her followers are well aware of, Val's replies to comments are just as amusing as her posts are. Lisa was another one of those diversionary ones. She'd rent kids, claim they were her own (even though she clearly was too thin and too young to have spawned the grown-up rent-a-kids) and then host a brilliant meme, Book Blurb Friday.  

        And some of the stealth and sneaky goings-on had to do with blinding their fellow writers. 

        Donna won the Erma Bombeck contest, and she'd flash that eight-foot tall trophy at you like she was sending signals across the canyon to the Lone Ranger. Linda always had--in her pocket-- a list of the publications who had sent her an acceptance letter that day, and after reading the seemingly neverending list, her colleagues couldn't see straight. And speaking of straight...You wished you weren't after reading Fireblossom's daily serving up of poetry. She does it all--blazing hot love poems, hilarious stabs at society, channeling of Emily Dickinson. The lady's way too mercurial... 

        Some of the authors living in this community resorted to old school medieval fun. Cathy C. Hall would keep her fellow writers from writing by jousting and challenging other punsters to duels. She'd unsheath Cathy-on-a-Stick and threaten the other writers.

photo by Sioux

        And finally, there was a musical duet to divert us. Lynn and Tammy would whine play a sad song on their tiny violins. In perfect harmony they would sing, "Thisisawful-Itispurecrap-Don'tyoufallasleep." The chorus was, "Mywritingstinks-It'sreallynothing-Helpmehelpmeplease." (And they never even served any cheese with that whine.)

        And since it's a fairy tale community, do these writers live happily ever after? Why don't you finish the book you're currently reading, and once you've read the last word on the last page, ask yourself "Was I moved?"

        'Cause writers have that power. They can do that. They can move you. And while that doesn't make it all happy, it makes it all good...

                                             The End

Talkin' Trash

          Little known fact about me: I used to be a professional wrestler.

          This was in the 60's, way before female wrestlers were thin and tanned and gorgeous. In the old days, women wrestlers had lots of hair--true--but most of it was between their nose and their upper lip.

photo by sabreliode

           In my era, when I reigned in the ring, women "rasslers" were bulkier. They were brawnier. They were tough. Sadly, I still eat like I am bulking up for a bout, so the only "ring" I see these days is caused by the over-strained elastic in my pants...

         This week, I tried to encourage Cathy C. Hall to submit a story to Mozark Press. They're looking for fictional bad hair day stories. And my intention? Just some gentle prodding. Some writerly encouragement.

        Well, Cathy threw me against the ropes with a roar. She accused me of "talking trash" (which I never do--I am always genteel and demure) and then challenged me to a game of Donkey Kong. I immediately retreated into the corner, whimpering.

       What kind of teasing/prodding/encouraging do you do or receive that helps others/you as a writer? 

       And as for how I will answer the fierce competitive spirit of Cathy C. Hall? Perhaps we need to settle it with sticks. (And Cathy knows what I'm talkin' 'bout.) 

           By the way, if you live in the St. Louis area, next Friday (June 29), Jodi Picoult will be a speaker at the St. Louis County Library Headquarters. She, along with her daughter, has written a book. (And since Linda O'Connell has a previous engagement, she won't be in front of me in line, waiting for the doors to open.)  If there are any friends who would like to join me, let me know...
         

                                                photo by dcnerd
                        (Picoult writes wonderful novels---"Sing You Home" is one
                          of my favorites, along with my all-time favorite of hers,
                                          "Handle With Care.")

Switch It Up

photo by saralonde

        No, this is not me having a bad hair day. Actually, if this was me, it would be a good hair day. My hair is notoriously uncooperative.

        However, I have been working on a "bad hair day" story for Mozark Press. The deadline is July 15.

         When I got the information about the guidelines, I failed to read it carefully, because I was quite excited. I had the perfect story--I had a wild experience that involved a sink--so I started writing it.

        Then Alice Muschany reminded several of her blogging groupies that Mozark wants fictional stories. Ooooh.

        However, I proceeded full-speed ahead anyway, figuring the story could be told in first person.  But it just didn't feel right.

        Last night, I switched it up. No longer told in first person, this story is about Maggie (which happens to be my go-to name, since it was the name I was given at birth) and the story just came together. Or at least I think it's a new cure for insomnia halfway decent. 

       So, check out the Mozark's call for submissions. You'd be in good company if you get your story accepted. Cathy C. Hall has been published by them, along with Donna Volkenannt.

        And if you're having trouble with a story, switch the perspective. If it's longer story or a novel, you could even alternate the perspective. (Jodi Picoult uses this technique a lot.) That might be all you need to get the story flowing...



Mt.Vesuvius--Vanquished by the Amish

           I was reading Cathy C. Hall's blog, and she was writing about mistakes we make--in life, in writing. I wrote a comment about my former life as a quilter, and it prompted me to dig up an old wall hanging.

        This wall hanging was made during a retreat. Since I hate using the machine am not overly fond of working with a sewing machine, in times such as this--where the machine was used for lots and lots of piecing--I cursed and spit and threatened my Singer machine...a lot.

      Sometimes you're not thrilled with the writing process when it comes to a particular draft. But be persistent...

    However, as the weekend progressed, I was pleased with the results. The colors, the "movement" in the piece.

     Celebrate the small victories in writing. You crafted a great phrase, a wonderful image, an effective metaphor? Revel in it. And then continue writing...

           All these evil lovely diamonds were coming together--in rows--to create larger diamonds. How cool. It was somewhat of a mystery what it would look like once it was completed, but the parts were pleasing...so far.

       Sometimes, when you're working on a poem, a story, a novel--you're not sure where it's going to go.  Enjoy it when you step off the cliff.  If you know the characters, the story will take off on its own direction in a sure-footed manner. If it's a poem--well, ask Fireblossom what it's like to "freefall" while writing poetry.

      I was ecstatic when I finally got the thing pieced together. The final step--before it was basted and then hand-quilted--was pressing it. I proudly took my creation to the ironing board and started to press. And press.

    Unfortunately, no matter now hard I pressed down with the iron, the center would not be subdued. The middle would not lie down flat. All those diamonds converged in the center and erupted.  The center of my wall hanging was like Mt. Vesuvius--and from the looks of it, it was about to spew.

     My piecing skills--as usual--had failed me. While other quilters' seams are perfectly uniform and unwavering, there were probably dozens and dozens of tiny mistakes I had made...resulting in a "perfect storm" of thread and cotton fabric.

      If your draft is not working, rearrange it. If it's a story, begin at the middle or the end and go back to the beginning. Change genre. There was a memoir I wrote that sucked in prose. But when I put it in the form of a free-verse poem, it sang. Don't be afraid to change things up.

       No amount of spray starch worked. I was ready to chuck it (I was that frustrated, after working on it all weekend) or I thought, 'I'll sew a huge button in the middle, to hide the eruption,' when the workshop leader suggested I cut out one of the eyeball-looking things in the border fabric and applique it in the middle.

       I did, and it looked like I had intended it as part of the design all along. The "eye" kept the center of my cotton volcano from erupting.

       The Amish don't believe in perfection. They don't think humans are capable of anything completely perfect. So, when they make a quilt, they will make a small, deliberate mistake.

       When you screw up a piece, call it your Amish essay # ____.  When you mess up on the rhythm of a poem you're writing, tell everyone it was an on-purpose mistake.

    And then keep on writing...

Critique Group Secrets *

        Every group of writers has their own "method to their madness," their unique way of working.

        For example, the critique group I belong to decided that the pieces do not get read aloud. Each story, every essay... **they stand on their own, unable to benefit from the writer's inflection and expressive voice. After all, we figured, that's how a story will have to make its impact if it gets published---read by the reader, silently, in the bathtub familyroom...or the bedroom.

       One problem that was solved easily by Lynn was this: how do we know for sure when everyone in the group is finished reading and scrawling out their comments? None of us wanted to jump the gun and begin too early...no one wanted to step on anyone's toes or appear too eager.

        After jotting down our last suggestion, our last bit of praise, we'd give sneaky, side-glances at each other. Ooops, I don't want the rest of the WWWPs to think I have so little to offer that my critique offerings are meager...I'll make another short notation. Then we'd look around again at each other. Is she gazing up to consider how to word "Good grief, Sioux. This piece is a sure-cure for insomnia. You should patent it" or is she daydreaming about how sweet it'd be to steal Schmeagol the Cat and make him her own? You're not sure...

       Lynn, Queen of Craft, took paint stir-sticks and decorated them. Now it's almost a joke..."Is your stick up?" if one of us is obviously finished but forgot to hold up their stick or stick their stick in-between the chair cushions.

        Recently, Lynn upped herself and gave us each these wooden faces on a stick. We all said we'd decorate them but only over-achiever Linda (she was feeling high after receiving her 197th Chicken Soup acceptance letter) followed through. (I actually think she chained her cutie-patootie granddaughter Nicole to the kitchen table and made her color it, but the police have been out to her house to check it out...no evidence was found.)

        On my next post, I will unveil my "Sioux-on-a-Stick" (not to be confused with the international sensation, Cathy-on-a-Stick).

         What clever ways has your critique group found to work more effectively? What solutions have you found? Other writing groups are curious... 

* There are inside-jokes our group tosses around that must remain secret. Jokes about frozen legs of lamb, a woodchipper, a nail gun, the benefits of having a personal trainer, how scary trips to South American countries can be...the list is endless.

** I slipped in as many ellipsis as I could, as I am trying to draft a story without a single ellipsis. My OEA support group (Over Ellipsis-er Anonymous) said it would be a step forward in my recovery...(Ooops.)