Inspiration Grows

I wrote a poem today. It's been quite a while since the inspiration has come so easily. Usually when there's been a long lapse in my writing, the first thing that comes out in my poetry is all the stuff I don't like about myself or my life. Today was different. It was a poem about inspiration and the way it feels to me. I call it "Teapot" for lack of a better title. Here it is:

Teapot

I feel like a teapot.

Boiling water bubbling up

from the depths of myself.

Creative ideas dance on the bottom,

leap through the heat to see

the light of my face.

Why is it that these creative bubbles

can be both exciting and terrifying

in the same moment?

Just like the teapot my stomach boils

ideas create acid fear

and efferscent joy

jumbled together in a messy fountain of thought.

Why can't ideas come from peace?

Why can't stillness be their calling card

instead of this crazy tilt-o'-whirl of emotion?

They pick me up and carry me

to the place they wish to go

with echoes of "ooo, what if" and "wouldn't it be cool"

following behind like a pup

racing after a speeding car.

Why no the still, quiet waters

of a mountain lake?

Stop! Wait!

I cry as they race about.

I need time to write it down

before the teapot runs out of water,

before the creative binge runs out of steam,

but, heedless, the ideas race on

and only I seem to notice the dry crack

of the empty kettle on the stove.

It's a little rough, but it served its purpose.

I had quite a flattering event happen this week. One of my friend's daughters wants to be an illustrator, so her mom called me up this past week and asked if she could have a copy of one of my books so Molly could practice illustrating scenes from books. I had an extra copy just sitting around so I gave it to her. Molly read it, loved it, and drew about a dozen pictures. She's eleven, but you'd never know it. She's GOOD!!! One of my favorite pictures is at the top of my blog. The kids is astounding. I know people who have been drawing for twenty years who aren't so good. It's awesome and extremely flattering that she asked to use my book to do it. It's been a fairly happy week. I'm hoping to write another blog entry tomorrow as I've got tons to catch up on and it's time for bed.

I know I've been tagged at least twice over the last several months but can't remember by whom and for what. If you've tagged me anytime since, oh . . . say, September, let me know, would you? I'll get on it as soon as I hear from you.

Quote of the Day: To me, the greatest pleasure of writing is not what it's about, but the inner music the words make.

~Truman Capote, McCall's, November 1967

Moving On

Isn't if funny how we so often think a project is finished only to find we've still got a million more things to do? I am in that position. I'm editing the Sapphire Flute AGAIN, thanks to some much needed suggestions from Tristi Pinkston. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful, VERY grateful, it's just hard to go back to the same thing once more when I thought it was done. Boy, have I learned a lot in this process though. Tristi is an amazing editor. If anyone is looking for a great editor-for-hire, I'd totally recommend her. It's like getting an editor and writing tutor all wrapped-up in one. So, THANK YOU, Miss Tristi! Even if you are making me work my fingers off again. Hopefully this will be the last time until a publisher/agent swoons over the smooth writing and creatively original story. :P

On another note, I just found out that one of my favorite mystery writers, J.A. Jance, is going to be in Bountiful tomorrow evening at the Davis County Library. If anyone wants to go, it's at 7pm at the south branch of the library. The address is: 725 S. Main Street. Look for me if you come, I'll be there for sure! She'll also be at Sam Weller's the following night at 6:30.

Things are still crazy around here, but I'm finding some peace at last. I can't talk about it yet, but I'll blog about it once I can.

Best of luck to all of you with your writing and in your lives.

Quote of the Day: "The act of putting pen to paper encourages pause for thought, this in turn makes us think more deeply about life, which helps us regain our equilibrium."

~Norbet Platt

I'm Not Dead Yet . . . .

It has come to my attention that there is an odd rumor floating about that I might have died. I am happy to say, this rumor is most definitely untrue. I have been living a rather busily insane life through the holidays, and once the insanity died down I stuck my head in my pillows and hid for a while. I'm recovered now, and though I am not yet sure how much of my sanity has returned, enough of it is back that I can post a blog at long last.

On a more casual note, the holidays were good. My little brother spent a week painting a beautiful miniature dragon for my birthday, but I can't get my pictures to upload from my camera. I'll post them when I do. My in-laws took us to the Homestead Resort in Midway for Thanksgiving, while Christmas and New Years were spent at home and at work.

Not really anything much of interest going on around here. I've just been really, really busy - and I must admit a little discouraged, due to the lack of writing time. Sometimes I wonder if I'm living a pipe dream with my writing aspirations. Part of me knows this is what I'm supposed to do, but all of the "what-if's" get a little discouraging at times. I know, I know, I've just got to get a thick skin and keep submitting, but some days that's easier to do than others, and the passing of another year without having my dreams find a home always makes me a bit melancholy.

But enough of that. One of my resolutions for the new year is to get organized and to write something every day, including blogs. I've done pretty good so far. Hopefully I can keep this one going for a long time.

"It is necessary to write, if the days are not to slip emptily by. How else, indeed, to clap the net over the butterfly of the moment? For the moment passes, it is forgotten; the mood is gone; life itself is gone. That is where the writer scores over his fellows: he catches the changes of his mind on the hop."

~Vita Sackville-West