BAWWWWK!

What Inspires: Chicken Scratch I walked away from a post-holidays “debate” with my sis-in-law, Joanne,  with chicken scratch on my mind.

Joanne, a Special-Ed teacher,  maintains that learning cursive isn’t important anymore, and furthermore, that future generations may not write at all. Not to say they won't comunicate. They may well communicate faster, more easily,  and on more advanced levels. Instead of writing, they'll dictate and a machine will respond accordingly and/or transcribe if needed;  non-verbal folks will type and the machine will speak. Wha-Lah: Communication!

This might well be the way of the future. But…but…but… BAWWWWWWK!

Recent arguments about how practicing and learning writing is as important t0 brain development as going through the “crawling stage” and learning to skip aside, I can’t stop thinking about what will be lost if people stop writing?

I keep a box of cards and letters; my mother has one; my grandfather did, too.  (I type, “did” because my grandmother burned my grandfather's, along with his family photos, shortly after his funeral (will we ever know why???)

When my grandmother died, I found hers, too. I didn’t burn it; I was embarrassed by it, though, and delighted and saddened and mortified to discover "brilliant" Mini-me thought “Boston” was spelled “Boaston” and  my teacher, Mr. Tweet, may well have had legitimate cause for giving me a C- in 5th grade penmanship (which crushed me and kept me from making the Honor Roll)

I was touched and thrilled  to discover my grandmother kept those cards and letters--if for no other reason that that I get to read them, touch them, smell them. . . . An exchange of molecules takes place during the process of “penning a note” which adds a different twist to the term “give something of yourself.” During the process of writing the note we transfer piece of ourselves to the paper.  Unlike carbon dating, human residue on hand-written card, notes, letter—recipes—don’t lessen by halves,  it becomes more precious.  (Any historic, cultural, kitsch value of the card is another discussion entirely.)

This holiday season, just as I have other holidays, I pulled out my raggedy recipe accordion folder and riffled through recipes. One Christmas eons ago (when my mother had more time and imagination than funding) she created a recipe file for my grandmother and herself. She typed “favorite” recipes on index cards and decorated them with doodles and comments. I relish those recipe cards. They whisk me back to when Mom was younger, energetic, and willing to spend the time on handmade gifts. As cheesy as many of them are, I love looking at them. They always make me smile and remember, as does “Aunt Margie’s Sheet Cake,” Grandma Lee’s “Noodle Koogle” and my grandmother’s “Never-fail Pie Crust.” (And dang if those pre low-fat, low-butter, low-calorie, low-sugar, high-nutrition recipes aren't dang tasty!)

This holiday season, I received a piddly pile of cards—which I saved to savor after the rush and beyond as they will be duly read, then stored in my memory box. The bulk of my holiday greetings and post-holiday thank you notes arrived via email. And though I read and enjoyed them, I didn’t—even when I could have—print them out to save. I may save an e-mail note or card in Outlook, I rarely print one with the purpose of saving it. Those I do print rest in a wicker basket which bears a striking resemblance to the recycle basket.  Even in my wildest imaginings, I can not make myself believe a time will come when scent, skin, bone, tears, smudges, molecules can travel through the Internet, to the satellite and fiber optic cable, squish out the printer. (At least old-fashioned "dittos" smelled good--Oooh! Ooohh! I'll run  off the copies for you, Mrs. Hsang...can I? Please, oh pretty please?????)

In a lecture on non-fiction at Vermont College of Fine Art last year, Diane Stanley shared how she researched her books.c She shared that judging from the volume, frequency, and immediacy of correspondence, communication in London during Charles Dickens time was almost as fast as today. As a result, volumes of his thoughts, ideas, musings, menus, gripes—in his own words—are read, enjoyed, studied, perused, evaluated, analyzed, synthesized, idolized, etc. etc. by scholars today.  With e-mail notes, sms, cards, tweets, etc. stand the same test?

AAMOF, 404!

Scribble on…BAWWWWWWK!

Welcome 2012!

What Inspires: A Clean SlateHappy 2012 to us all.

Our new calendars are open and flipped to bright, new, blank pages. Along with all those other resolutions, let's save space for creative moments, deep jolly belly rolls,  and personal fulfillment!

For my part, I'll keep seeking tidbits that inspire me and promise to share them here in hopes they'll inspire you, too.

As the song goes: "It's a new dawn/It's a new day..." add to that It's a new year!

Community Begins With Two

What Inspires: Community We do most of the really hard work—to quote George Baily in one of my favorite Christmas movies, It’s A Wonderful Life—“most of the living and dying around here” alone.

Nothing wrong with Alone.  Alone is when I do most of my deep thinking. Alone is when I do my deep cleaning, straightening, organizing. Alone is when I write down most of those brilliant ideas.

Alone is when I falter, too.

That’s when Community makes the difference.  As  a brand-new mother in a brand-new town, I was completely lost and helpless until a neighbor, Sally, crossed the street and pulled me by the hand into hers.

With my children grown, I consider myself more of a writer than mother, so that's the community I'm thinking of now.  When I was first beginning my writing career, I belonged to a writing Community of 2:  Ronnie Davidson and me, sitting side-by-side in her attic office from 8:30 to 11:00 am Monday through Friday, her at the computer keyboard clicking away, me with a legal pad on my lap, scribbling. However small, without my Writing Community, I may well have dropped the notion of becoming a professional writer.

Mid-way through my writing career, my Community grew to include critique groups, writing organizations, such as OWFI, SCBWI, Authors’ Guild, etc. My Writing Community grew so large that its tentacles spread into almost all other areas of my life.

Then just as George’s younger brother Harry, and Sam Wainwright and even brassy Violet tried to, I left my Community. I didn’t realize what I was leaving until I faltered again…and again and didn’t have my Community--  colleagues/friends/critique buds/teachers-- to which I could turn.

• Community are those folks who talk you off the ledge when you’re feeling like chucking it all…

• Community keeps you honest and grounded when you’re on top, by remembering you when—and never letting you forget.

• Community keeps you going when you hit bottom, by reminding you why you’re trying to do something “so dog gone hard in the first place” and how far you’ve come.

• When you need advice, commiseration, support, love, Community is the place to go, because there’s sure to be someone there who has either “been there, done that” or knows someone who knows someone who might, or might not, have been.

Clarence the apprentice Angel took that icy plunge on Christmas Eve just so he’d have a chance to remind George of his Community and his role in it.

I didn’t need a Clarence to remind me; I have a Marilyn, my sister-in-law who’s battling breast cancer [for more click back on Helping Hearts blog posting]. Like George, Marilyn’s Community is huge, and rich and diverse. And just as everyone in Bedford Falls rushed over when they heard the call that “George Baily” needed help, Marilyn’s Community is rallying around her. They arrive with treats, with notes, with rides, with offers of help and support of all kinds. Soon after I arrived to support Marilyn post-surgery, she said to me, "I'm learning how to let people help. You have to keep that in mind, too. People want to help and it's important to let them."

We talk so much about giving--especially at this time of year. We don't spend so much time considering receiving. We don't want to be receivers (except on the ball field). We don't want to be in the position of needing help. But that's Community! In giving we receive; in receiving we give.

Community! A gift we  give and receive

 FYI: I Googled quotes to make sure I correctly remembered the line from “It’s A Wonderful Life.” In the process, I came across this article by Joe Carter, comparing Frank Capra and Ayn Rand. I found it worth the read. You might, too!  “The Fountain Head of Bedford Falls”

Want the full movie quote?

George is talking to Old Man Baily, justifying the existence of the Savings and Loan, when he says: “Well, this riffraff you’re talking about does most of the living and dying around here. Is it too much to ask for them to do it in two decent rooms and a bath?” – For more memorable lines from the movie visit Eudanomics: My Pursuit of Happiness blog 

Community: Starts With Two...

How To Make Money as An Author

What Inspires? Gumption What to know how to make money as an author: Put a tip jar on the signing table at your next bookstore or library presentation.

It worked for David Sedaris!  According to an article in The Guardian, Sedaris told people "it was all for me to spend on candy." he said they were "delighted because it's funny to give money to someone who doesn't need it."  (Bestseller author, Sedaris, doesn't, evidently.)

Sedaris suggested putting out a tip jar at signings as an "interesting money-making tip for authors."

I'm inclined to agree: At then end of one evening's reading at a Dallas bookstore, Sedaris's tip jar had $350.00 in it--his "best evening."  Sedaris said he netted "$4000.00 in candy tips" on that book tour.

Will Read for Tips!

Will Write for Tips!

(And if you're one of those fortunate authors who "don't need the money" why not put your tip jar out at signings anyway--you can then donate it to one of those "not fun" someones who does need it.)

Handwriting Contest for Students

Back in the day, it was more about how you wrote than what you wrote. There was something to that--still is if you ask the IRA!

Are you ready for a healthy, educational competition that rewards everyone, builds students' self-esteem, and generates positive public relations for your school?

Enter the Zaner-Bloser National Handwriting Contest—an annual event that Zaner-Bloser sponsors to promote legible handwriting. The contest is free to enter and open to all students in Grades 1–8.

Over $100,000 in cash and prizes will be awarded. Prize packages for students, teachers, and schools include an all-expenses-paid trip to IRA’s 57th Annual Convention in Chicago, Illinois, for the eight outstanding teachers of the Grand National Grade-Level Winners! Watch this video to learn more.

Give all your students the opportunity to win. Download contest entry forms today. The deadline to enter is January 23, 2012—National Handwriting Day.

Sincerely,

International Reading Association

Writing vs. Cooking

What inspires: Pushing Through

“Unlike cooking, for example, where largely edible, if raw ingredients are assembled, cut, heated, and otherwise manipulated into something both digestible and palatable, writing is closer to having to reverse-engineer a meal out of rotten food,” -author David Rakoff, from his essay “A Writer’s Day,” published in the spring 2011 Authors Guild Bulletin.

Rakoff shared how he procrastinates, justifies, stalls before settling in to write each day. How in most things, art, for example, one progresses, learns, becomes more adept and so the work gets easier. Conversely: “Writing—I can only really speak to writing here—always, always only starts out as shit; an infant of monstrous aspect; bawling, ugly, terrible and it stays terrible for a long, long time (sometime forever).”

Still, even with the “terrors and agitations,” Rakoff pushes through—never forgetting for a moment that his is not a life of “mining coal, waiting tables, or answering someone’s phone for a living”— beginning each writing day “suffused with this sense of privilege, shell-pink and pulsing with new hope.”

Helping Hearts

What Inspires: Outreach I'm finally able to write what is on my mind. You know how it is: saying a thing (or writing it, in my case) makes it real. So often, when a thing is really sad, or bad, or scary--or all three and more--we hold off putting words to it in hopes that it won't be so. But it is so. My lovely, lively sister-in-law Marilyn is battling breast cancer. Marilyn just finished her fourth round of chemotherapy and is facing surgery, more chemo and maybe radiation treatment. If I were she, I'd be curled up in a ball in the corner somewhere. But Marilyn has laughter in her heart and so she is trying on Andrews Sisters-style wigs

(hopefully for Halloween and not every day wear hair), rejoicing because the side-effects of the 3rd chemo were less debilitating than those of the 2nd, and sending love notes such as this: "... So, all of you, know how fabulous you are and how much I appreciate your love, care, and humor. And even when I don't hear from you or see you, I don't doubt that you're rooting me on...and know, I'm in your corner too."

Because our health care system is what it is, even though Marilyn has insurance, she is still being slapped with massive medical expenses. In an effort to alleviate some of the worry of having to scratch up the money to pay for treatment so Marilyn can, instead, focus her energy where it should be focused--on beating the cancer and regaining vigor, friends organized a benefit for her. It was a grand and loving event but it didn't raise all the funds needed; please contribute if you're able. And join me in sending Marilyn light and healing energy.

Let's Make Like Bulbs!

What Inspires: Heirloom Bulbs Chris Weisinger, the Bulb Hunter,  shares his boyhood memory of “one red tulip” which, like Jack’s bean, magically rose up from a shriveled brown “rock," in the forward to Heirloom Bulbs for Today.

That red tulip didn’t bloom another season, it didn’t need to; its work was done. In this gloriously illustrated, informative--and most importantly, fascinating--treasure,  written with master gardener and author Cherie Foster Colburn,  the Bulb Hunter writes of discovering daffodils, hyacinths, lilies, gladiolus and naked ladies marking the foundation of dilapidated shacks, ringing the base of ancient trees, marking all but invisible paths—“going through drought and flood, heat and cold.”

Like fine stories, these bulbs caught Chris's attention, lured him in, and sent him off searching for more.

Like fine stories, these bulbs survive, even thrive!

“Each bulb blooming today has a story to tell: it has traveled from somewhere, to someone. It was carried in the pocket of an immigrant coming to a New World, or symbolized the love of a child on a parent’s grave, or was divided from a clump in grandmother’s garden  provide a “start” for a daughter’s new home. Each bulb comes with a full and seasoned past.”—The Bulb Hunter, Chris Weisinger.

Let’s make like heirloom bulbs: Thrive, prosper and create our stories!