Seeing filled, not empty

When the above pictured house was built (1965) there was just enough foliage planted to round out the squareness in corners and soften and fill an otherwise stark landscape. I was only 3 then, my brother, Tim, 6.  I wondered if that was Tim standing in the den window just to the left of the garage. It does look like [...]

Reading into Memoir

It's all in the books. I've been at an impasse on my memoir. After receiving an editor's comments, of which I agree, I'm dazed to think how to go about incorporating her suggestions. "More about the birch tree." Yep, I know I've got unused "thematic potential" here, as she says. I appeared to have dropped my family members! Since they [...]

The “so what” factor

I've been working on my memoir for 10 years. As you learn just how long it has taken me to write it, I can feel your breathy sigh and see your inquisitive brow asking, "So what's taking you so long?" I read my first draft once and then I thought of my current draft and the two are not the [...]

Sensory Overload

From Under the Birch Tree As I lugged my stuffed granny cart home I stopped a few times to watch a basketball game, and then a baseball game in the field across the street, continuing on with people-watching who are carrying on with their business. I stopped time to be in the moment and lie down on the cool stiff [...]

2013-05-24T19:17:14+00:00May 24, 2013|Categories: book writing, memoir, spiritual writing, Writing|Tags: , , , |

From Under the Birch Tree

An excerpt . . . My emotions voiced their opinion one night. Talk in my head revolved. I cried for the memories of the past and the emotions I would pack with me, masked on my face and wrapped around my heart. Feeling lost and disconnected during the unemployment days was never too far away. I traipsed Michigan Avenue from [...]

2013-05-17T19:32:56+00:00May 17, 2013|Categories: book writing, memoir, writers, Writing|Tags: , , , |

Fears

Fears can be crippling, even stoppers of your tracks. Others seem to have many different fears - fears of spiders, heights, escalators, swimming. How did we learn to be afraid? Babies and toddlers appear to have no fears. As they become children they take on life experiences which may be good, but then some may be bad, hence a fear [...]

2013-05-16T19:38:14+00:00May 16, 2013|Categories: memoir, Writing|Tags: , , , |

The Yellow Weed

I was struck by how familiar the sight was yet there was something a little wrong about it. It is Spring and with budding of the new season, the conditions for  fauna and foliage are just right for their awakenings. Browns are turning with slight green tinges, spring bulbs have popped their showy heads in red and yellows. Nature's landscape [...]

2013-05-09T19:32:21+00:00May 9, 2013|Categories: memoir, spiritual writing, writers, Writing|Tags: , |

THE PHOTO

. . . an excerpt. . . My middle-aged hands fingered the black and white photos interspersed with yellowing color Polaroids. As I searched for the one of my mother, burrowing deeper inside the box through layers of years, the wavy skin and popping veins from the top of my hands caught my attention. I always thought I had my [...]

2013-04-16T18:23:39+00:00April 16, 2013|Categories: book writing, memoir, Writing|Tags: , , |

ROOTS

Heading north on Lake Shore Drive, summer sapphire skies complimented the pale green lake with its waves creating a rhythm that blended with the beats of my heart. But when winter winds demanded attention, grey skies clashed with blue-grey water, a tiring violence. Oak Street, Division, North Avenue, Fullerton, Belmont. I named each exit. Addison, Waveland. I used to get [...]

2013-04-05T19:41:56+00:00April 5, 2013|Categories: memoir|Tags: , , |
Go to Top