Very Maine-y Day

(Click to enlarge all photos)

Today a visit

to a very Maine-y beach

on a midcoast bay.

Didn't get close-ups 

of enormous smooth boulders

but they're there

at the base of the pines.

You can clamber over them

and hang your legs

over the sides

and 

let the cold ocean water

splash

up around your ankles.

Cropped out of the photo

on the right, above,

is another favorite

beach endeavor:

Husband is hunkering down

doing a crossword

right there

on the beach

in the sun

and the clean air.

xx

Crabby Crab

Strolling along the beach today

cool breeze sparkled water

met this fellow

skittering sideways:

left left left

right right right 

black beaded eyes swiveling 

missing a leg or two.

Poor crabby fellow

looking for a place

to hide.

He's hoping

I won't 

step

on

him.

I'm hoping

the

same.

xx

The Habit of Seeing

"I like to change my habit of seeing."

I think it was the musician John Cage who said this

but it might have been another musician or artist or writer.

Maybe you are working on a book

and the intricate pieces of it are becoming 

as tangled as a mangrove forest

(above)

Maybe you change your setting

so that everything is new again

Maybe you kick off your shoes

and walk in the sand

Maybe you ponder the wildlife

And visit old friends

(wildlife of another sort)

Maybe you contemplate

the blue green ocean

and the white white sand

Maybe you do all that

and restore your mind

and your soul

so that your story or song or painting

realigns

so that you see your way ahead

calmly and clearly.

Maybe.

Beaming you all sun and sand and blue green water.

Beaches and Writing

Maybe you love beaches

especially deserted ones

where the only sounds you hear 

are the waves and the seagulls. 

Maybe you come here to walk

and to empty the mind

so it can absorb the rhythm

of the water.

Maybe you stand in shallow water

and see the sun reflected

at your feet

and then look up

at the blue blue sky

and that astounding

sun.

And maybe then

when you are realigned

you go home

to write.

Mm?

Beach Day

To the beach with my grand-nephew today. I've yet to meet a child who does not love the beach, all that wide open space to roam, and sand, waves, water, shells, and critters. Here's one critter we almost stepped on:

And here are a few of the shells that came home with us. We like the small, imperfect ones:

And you, do you like the beach?

Revision Done (Maybe)

This is the latest revision (post editorial comments), ready to go back to my editor. Many pages have small changes; the yellow pages are new scenes.  Most of the changes came in the second half of the book, tweaking characters and plot points, uncovering new connections. Revisions could go on endlessly--no matter how many times you read something, you can always find something to tweak, but at some point you have to let go of it.

On Sunday, I loved it. On Monday, I hated it. On Tuesday, I kissed it.

And now, a reward--off to empty my brain:

Beach Revisions

Time: noon today.  Place: Oak Island, NC.  Temperature: 70.  Activity: Revising.

Today I was working on revisions.  At the beach.  Truly.  Received long, eloquent editorial letter yesterday, with astute observations and questions on the work-in-progress.  The questions are complicated and not easy to resolve, but if resolved, they will make the book stronger. And so today, with the questions in mind, I walked the beach. And sat. And walked. And sat. And thought.

The value of thinking/gazing time is enormous. It's an essential part of writing, and it is why many writers take on that glazed, daft look: they are off in the world of the book, resolving problems, even when they are not at the computer/typewriter/paper--maybe especially when they are not at the computer/typewriter/paper.

These are the times when I put the phone in the fridge, the milk in the oven, keys in the freezer. It is hard to live in two worlds at once, mm?

January Beach Day

For those of you who are snowbound, I almost hate to show you this photo, taken today on the beach in North Carolina. Sixty degrees. Not too hot, not too cold. Just right.

Walking on the beach is one of the best ways to solve problems, either in 'real' life or in stories-in-progress. On such a walk last January, a solution to an awkward bit in the new book arrived, unbidden.

You reach down to pick up a broken shell and instead you pick up a gem of a character.

Ahhh.