Beginnings

Some writing books advise you to begin a story with a bang, to jump right into the action, to "shoot the sheriff on the first page."

I don't do that. I like a more leisurely opening - whether I'm reading a story or writing one. 

I like to invite the reader onto the porch of the story -

Come on up, have a seat, take off your shoes, sit a while . . .

I want readers to feel comfy - 

and to be surrounded by air and light and natural beauty - 

I want to offer readers something worthy of their time - 

So, maybe you will come on up, set yourself down, stay a while . . . mm?

Squirrels in the Crabapple

"She has squirrels in the attic"

someone might say

of me

when I'm deep in a draft

and dizzy in the 'real' world

but outside my window

there are

squirrels in the crabapple

happily munching

on 

blossoms

xx

Stones

Stones

so solid

and smooth

fit so comfortably 

in my hand

cool to the touch

I am drawn to them

but

I don't know exactly 

why

xx

Pearl in England: Point of View

Many of my stories are written in the first person point of view

because I like that intensity of focus

of being completely in the mind

of the main character

seeing what she sees

feeling what she feels

The above girl could be one of my characters

but instead she is my granddaughter Pearl

visiting England

where my husband, children and I lived

for many years.

I am eager to hear what she's thinking and seeing and feeling.

I am eager for her point of view.

top photo: at TASIS England School, checking out the Peter Rabbit Garden, 

planted by the lower school.

bottom photo:  at Kensington Palace, London.

Wordless Thursday

xx

California Dreamin', part 3

For this last glimpse of Davis, California

I offer you this

from the central park

Overhanging the bench -

artichokes!

I'd never before seen an artichoke growing

and it made me laugh

to see it so boldly there.

The first thing that came to mind

was a descriptive paragraph 

written by one of my 11th grade English students

nearly 30 years ago.

The student described a woman in a blue scarf

standing in an artichoke field.

The image was so vivid that I've carried it in my mind

all these many years -

So intriguing, the words and images

that stay with us,

don't you think?

A woman in a blue scarf

standing in an artichoke field.

xx

California Dreamin', part two

More from Davis, California

We are made of many pieces

We are playful

(See me in the overhead mirror?)

Trees bring peace

The wonder of an apricot tree!

The elegance of redwoods!

Such calm in this park

in Davis, California

such tranquility

xx

California Dreamin' and Being . . .

Book tours have often led me to coastal California

to San Francisco, Los Angeles,

San Diego, San Jose

but this past week I've been in the central valley

flying into Sacramento

and then on to UC-Davis

where I worked with teacher candidates.

Near my charming cottage/inn

was a small park with elegant gardens

and each morning before the workshops

I spent time here.

Amid the roses and lavender and scores of native plants

were intricate mosaics

and sculptures

Even the waste containers were decorative:

More tomorrow from this special park

but first I need to say

that as special as the park is - 

the people I've met at UC Davis

are even more special:

one of the most memorable trips ever -

and I came away with such hope

and a very full heart.

xx

Flying Off

I kid you not

this was straight out my office window

such a sight!

For you: 

butterfly on blossoms -

a gift to tide you over

while

I'm off in California

for a few days

doing workshops with teachers

at UC-Davis.

Sacramento, here I come!

xx

Nesting: Birds and Writers

Every year the robins scope out our porch

seeking shelter for their nest

and every year 

they slop twigs and straw and leaves

every which way

and usually the mess-nest 

falls

three or four or five times

but they pick all the mess back up

and slop it up against the pillar

which isn't nearly wide enough

for a secure nest

but they are stubborn

and keep at it

and slop some mud in it

to cement it to the

white pillar

and you know I'm going to

compare

this to writing a book, right?

. . .the way I toss this and that 

onto the page

hoping it sticks

and sometimes it doesn't

and it makes a mess

but I am stubborn

and I keep at it

cementing those words

to the

white page.

ciao, bellas . . .

xx