Tag Archives: writing life

Experimenting With Novellettes

Recently I ordered some experimental novels I found in articles online. I believe I wrote awhile back about dabbling in fiction.

I dropped that for awhile. Now I am back. In desperate need of a sense of structure, I wanted new novels to read. However, I don’t want to write a regular sort of novel. As a poem writer, I want to break things down. I also want a shorter story. Can a story with no plot be good? Can the color orange be my protagonist? Can I structure my book as a series of ekphrastic poems? What does it mean to structure a story as a scrapbook? Can I include footnotes, to-do notes, and playlists?

I want to find out. I have a lot to learn. I am a voracious reader, but this is stuff I haven’t really touched. It is time to leave the familiar terrains of my mind and map a new world.

Eating Men

My sheath is made of leather.
I am a woman.
I am a knife.

Tonight I will dine
on an industrial
Dynasty,
eating in the workspace
of men –
Eating men.

Iron rising from my pulse
To the air
I see my doppelganger –
The pregnant cat
Luring the mouse.

This is part of my project to write poems that pair with colors and textures, or the other way around.

Shy, Parsnip, Mother’s Day

I feel so private, so shy. Earlier in the week I submitted to two magazines. I hadn’t done that in a long time. There is a poet group I want to join, but I can’t even fill out the paperwork. Putting myself out there feels exhausting and violating – especially because they talk about giving readings and things like that. I have never been an extravert. In fact, I have been very introverted my whole life. The older I get, the worse it gets. There is a group of horror writers I want to get plugged into. I am excited about it, as I really love reading horror, have supernatural experiences at home, and I want to write fiction.

The thought of going to a meeting sucks my spine out of me.

Forcing myself to go would be good for me. I would love to find inspiration and meet like minded people. Being there would probably be spectacular. The thought of going gives me butterflies. Not even butterflies. It gives me moths.

Parsnip has a new enclosure that Craig built for him. It is in the library, which gives him more sun than he got in the laundry room. There are plenty of pros and cons for parsnip. He is now enclosed in a much smaller space. It’s more fun and definitely cozier, but it’s smaller. When he was in the laundry room he got to go out and run around the house a lot more. He was shut into the laundry room while we were sleeping or when I had to go to a store, but he spent a lot of hours a day running around the house. Now he doesn’t. This us partially to minimize possible future damage to the house. My little bunny has already caused trouble. Part of it is because this new enclosure doesn’t have a way to open the gate. He has to be put into his enclosure from the top. So if we let him out to run around the house and we aren’t available to really really watch him and follow him he could run into trouble. If he needs to eat, drink, or use his litter box he can’t get to it. So he can only come out of the enclosure at certain times. It was possible to make an enclosure that would allow him to get into it, but then it wouldn’t be secure enough to keep him from getting out of it. Parsnip is a fuzzy genius. Craig actually stapled the walls of the pen to the plywood.

We took Angelica out front on her skates. She doesn’t yet know how to skate per se, but she walked in the skates. Her balance was amazing – especially considering we haven’t been teaching her. We need to take her to a rink.

Mother’s Day was lovely. Good food, good gifts, good time. My daughter picked out a pretty watch for me. Craig got me two pieces of art from a local gallery, and another gift that I am not sure where he got it. We grabbed lunch at that cute little French place. I feel cherished

Reinvigorating my Creative Life

I have returned to writing in the past few weeks, and I have tons of poems to post as we start 2019. My painting has been full of experimenting.

To jumpstart my creativity, part of what I am using to keep myself inspired is the planner I wrote about before that was custom designed for me. Seeing everything written out that I should do each day, from reading to writing to learning, helps give me that accountability. I write for the love of it and because I have images in my head that just must come out. But the reality is I frequently don’t feel good and doing anything can be difficult. This week in particular has been hard. But I am creating.

I have used the times Angelica has been getting tutoring to read, write, and blog. She gets tutoring for an hour at a time and rather than just sit there, I get stuff done. The new environment is actually stimulating.

I may start doing digital poetry, in this case meaning poetry on images, and I definitely want to start using dyed and cut up words in my paintings.

Collages are in the cards. I also want to do still life photography around the house with journals, art supplies, salt, flowers, bibles, etc.

I have a few little plans in the works and I am looking for more. I want to be as creative as possible this winter

My Mode of Living

I’m free of rain.

I show my picture to the blank mirror.

I was not busy in my shiny days

and now I see

clouds of apologies ahead,

burning bronze.

 

My shape shifting selfishness

Folded into a skin box,

Origami.

 

My life was born for a while,

between sameness and joy.

 

Ten times I memorize myself,

candy candle

I have to light,

To guide kaleidoscope perception

Back home to me.

 

Interdependence is difficult and soft,

ad infinitum.

Marriage

My silence is a blue tapestry
hanging by the old runny window.
Beneath my tongue the dream
dissolves, disheveled, voiceless.

Where his feet go,
my soul follows,
swimming through the cerulean sea,
stalking through the scorching sands,
clattering through canals.

His feet make tracks on the moon,
his ambition a horse for me to ride
to some frosted paradise.

In my tapestry,
the design of a snowflake,
sublime and thick.