WHERE DO I START?
This is not the time to apologize for not being here for all of you. But...Life has had its ups and downs, the muses have been playing games with my heart and soul, and sometimes we all feel like running away from home. Enough said. I am here and, hopefully, will do a better job of keeping my readers updated, informed, having fun with, and hoping to let you into, not only my life, work, and dreams, but offer a little knowledge from someone who has been playing this creative game a long time.
***
When I was five I had already learned to read and was the youngest child at the nearby County Library to be given her own library card. By age ten, I had read everything in our small school library, could only go to that County Library every two weeks, so decided I'd create my own "books" and stories. That love for creating other lives has clung to me for more years than I want to admit.
Every time I think I have nothing to write about, in my memory I recall growing up in that small Texas town. I remember taking pencil in my teeth, Red Chief Tablet tucked in my waistband, and my climb to the top of a favorite mulberry tree. It was a great writing room--a place where no younger siblings could bother me and I could hide from Mama calling me to do chores. There are stories upon stories in those childhood memories.
What is your favorite place to go for peace and relaxation? Where would be the perfect spot for you to "hide" in order to write without interference? I sometimes take my notebook--or just a spiral notebook--and walk several blocks from my home to Jack's Pond. During many summers we have taken two weeks, driven 350 miles north, and camped on the Kern River where Ray fishes and I write. Along Bull Frog Creek, with the soft sound of water falling over the rocks, the muse opens up and pours forth all manner of creativity. I work on my stories already started. Or I soak up those sounds and sights around me--emotions that then seep out of my pen or laptop in poetry form. A peaceful place can allow you the right to freely compose whatever your heart dictates.
Look around you, or change your location. Listen to the world in that special place, or shut it out entirely. Close your eyes and soak up the atmosphere, or dream of worlds beckoning from your imagination. Never forget there is a time and a place for you muse to open up, and there is always something to write about.
***
I'm working on a novella, "Badge of Honor," written from a prompt given to my creative writing class. Sometimes my muse grabs one of those starters and runs with it. Carmela Rojas has just slipped away from her former fellow Agents into the night to pick up evidence she has hidden. I know she is going to meet up with a murderer. Does she save herself? Or does she get the help she desperately needs?
***
When I was five I had already learned to read and was the youngest child at the nearby County Library to be given her own library card. By age ten, I had read everything in our small school library, could only go to that County Library every two weeks, so decided I'd create my own "books" and stories. That love for creating other lives has clung to me for more years than I want to admit.
Every time I think I have nothing to write about, in my memory I recall growing up in that small Texas town. I remember taking pencil in my teeth, Red Chief Tablet tucked in my waistband, and my climb to the top of a favorite mulberry tree. It was a great writing room--a place where no younger siblings could bother me and I could hide from Mama calling me to do chores. There are stories upon stories in those childhood memories.
What is your favorite place to go for peace and relaxation? Where would be the perfect spot for you to "hide" in order to write without interference? I sometimes take my notebook--or just a spiral notebook--and walk several blocks from my home to Jack's Pond. During many summers we have taken two weeks, driven 350 miles north, and camped on the Kern River where Ray fishes and I write. Along Bull Frog Creek, with the soft sound of water falling over the rocks, the muse opens up and pours forth all manner of creativity. I work on my stories already started. Or I soak up those sounds and sights around me--emotions that then seep out of my pen or laptop in poetry form. A peaceful place can allow you the right to freely compose whatever your heart dictates.
Look around you, or change your location. Listen to the world in that special place, or shut it out entirely. Close your eyes and soak up the atmosphere, or dream of worlds beckoning from your imagination. Never forget there is a time and a place for you muse to open up, and there is always something to write about.
***
I'm working on a novella, "Badge of Honor," written from a prompt given to my creative writing class. Sometimes my muse grabs one of those starters and runs with it. Carmela Rojas has just slipped away from her former fellow Agents into the night to pick up evidence she has hidden. I know she is going to meet up with a murderer. Does she save herself? Or does she get the help she desperately needs?
posted by Barb | 9:38 AM
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