Tag Archives: Writing

Woman Cures the Blues by Writing Poetry

12 Aug

My Take

DiVoran Lites

I am my own guinea pig. I figure what’s good for the goose is good for the gander, in other words, I learn things about myself all the time and wonder whether others feel the same way I do.

My latest discovery is in connection with the writing of poetry. I was in the middle of a final polish of my third novel in the Florida Springs Trilogy, Clear Spring, and I was feeling so down, I had to stop every thirty minutes to eat a teaspoon full of pecan pieces. Besides being nervous, a condition I attributed to stage fright because I was drawing near the end of my book, I also had a bad case of self-chastisement, a plethora of thoughts about how I wasn’t any good as a writer, nor as a person. I know I’m the only person in the world who ever has these thoughts, and that bothers me too. What is wrong with me?

Then I saw a Face Book call for entries for poems  about forgiveness from a Christian point of view. I was onto that like ducks on a June bug. First I started through my poetry workshop file, hmm, nothing specific on forgiveness, I usually write about more tangible things. So well, the thing to do is to start a new poem about the topic. I got so caught up in that I found the morning passing without a single bad thought or pecan piece. I wrote and rewrote. I asked my husband to read the poem to me. It was perfect except for one word. I wrote and rewrote again, this time shortening each line by two syllables. That required some word changes too. It got better. By the time I finished I was feeling mighty fine. No stage fright, no collywobbles, no cat-o-nine tails across my own shoulders. I felt ready to tackle anything, even polishing.

A similar thing happened once when my mother and I were waiting at a fish camp for our men to come home from a boat-shopping trip. It got later and later, but I didn’t have time to worry because I was working on a poem, “Bridgett’s Mustang.” You can see that poem in Bill’s, Old Things R New, “Slice of LIfe archives,” Our Trip Across America Part 9.

I need to go now, I am still working on forgiveness, and I hope to send it off within the next hour or so, then back to Clear Spring for some more polishing—stage fright free.

DiVoran’s books can be found at Rebekah Lyn Books as well as on Amazon

A Handwritten Note

6 May

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Photo by Melody Hendrix

Photo by Melody Hendrix

When I was younger, I decided not to fall into the trap so many older people live in, with several dates a month marked for the purpose of going to the doctor. However, you know what Robert Burns said, “The best laid plans of mice and men gang aft aglay.” Last week I visited three doctors with a member of the family in two days and this week, for various reasons I will have been in waiting rooms every day except Monday and Wednesday (twice on Thursday).

I get tired of passive things like reading, listening to audio stories, watching TV. (I never do that anyway), but I don’t knit or crochet, so I’m coming up with a new plan. I will take a small packet of paper; pens, maybe watercolor crayons and either write notes or draw a bit.

Emails are a big thing now, but writing notes and letters on paper has been part of my life since I was a child and I still get the urge to do it when I’m waiting. Mother and I wrote to each other every week. I still have all her letters and she kept mine up to her last days. When I was twelve and moved away, my best friend and I wrote each other every day. Recently, we wrote our schooldays memoirs together, but that was by computer. Out of habit, I hurry to the mailbox every day expecting something, but usually it contains only commercial mail, so I take that in, sort it out, and throw most of it away.

On my last run to the SPCA store, I got a thin book that reminds me of Alexander Stoddard’s beautiful, Gift of a Letter. It’s called, The Art of the Handwritten Note, this one by Margaret Shepherd.

Realizing how happy it made me to read another book about the subject, I realized I missed writing and receiving handwritten notes more than I knew and decided there was no reason not to take it up again.

Ms. Shepherd says, “Writing by hand makes you look good on paper and feel good inside. Even an ordinary handwritten note is better than the best email, and a good handwritten note on the right occasion is a work of art.”

One thing I’ve always loved about notes is that you can save them and re-read them. I know you can do that with emails, and I do have a file, but for some reason, once they’re out of sight, I never take the time to look at them.

“Art Has Always Survived Technology,” says Margaret Shepherd. I agree. It takes about a minute to write a note, so I’ve put a small pad of paper in my purse and some cards in the door pocket of my car. Last Tuesday I wrote a note to my son, (who, because he lives in another town, always sends a handwritten note on birthdays and mother’s days) and one to our pastor’s wife who did my family a big favor. She is also a card-sender and note writer, so it was a pleasure.

Don’t get me wrong I like to get emails, and I enjoy writing them. It isn’t one or the other, for me, but both. It’s something I’ve missed for many years. Are you missing it too?

Handwritten note copy

My Friend, Rebekah Lyn

16 Mar

I am venturing out onto the wild blue ocean, crossing my fingers the March winds will be gentle and the seas will be smooth. March certainly came in like a Lion, so I am hoping she will go out like a lamb. While I am away, my dear friend and guest blogger DiVoran Lites will be carrying on.

My Friend, Rebekah Lyn

I ran into my friend’s daughter in the grocery store one day and we got to talking about our secret loves, which are novels. Both of us wanted to write one, but the daily round and toil was keeping us from it. As we talked, we decided we could probably help each other, so we began meeting once a month. At first, we talked over some of the things that were stopping us, then moved on, almost unconsciously, to actually writing, and from there to reading each other’s pages aloud, without criticism or critique. Soon, Rebekah Lyn completed drafts for two novels and I was well into one of my own, still enjoying the process.

At last, it was time for Rebekah to publish. With the help of savvy and willing friends, and because of her own hard work, she had an e-book. I ordered it on my Kindle right away and later Rebekah Lyn presented me with my own in-print copy. What a great book! I can highly recommend it.

Over time, Rebekah and I discovered that the full generation (and more) between us, rather than being a drawback, worked to our advantage. Each of us had a new friend for life and a finished novel to warm our hearts.

DiVoran is also an artist. Her works for sale can be found here.
Creative Artworks!.

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