One Word At A Time . . . in the Rain

On Facebook today, everybody's Status Update in the tri-state area is rain related. My friends are stuck in traffic on their way to NYC with their brand new baby due to a fallen tree. A tree! My brother is making his way uptown on a bus that is evidently almost as wet inside as outside.

In other words, it was and still is the perfect day to stay home and curl up on the couch with a good book. OR to go out and be with a group of friends and their laptops for some creative writing. I was hoping that my Saturday group of girls at Writopia would choose the latter, and I wasn't disappointed. (Although as I weaved my way down the slick city streets, no cab in sight, I questioned my sanity. But nobody can say I lack commitment!)

We were comfortable inside, protected from the rain and chatting up story ideas, instead of working on stories. There was so much brainstorming going on that we ended up playing "hot laptop". (Yes, same as the "hot notebook" game that my Girls Write Now mentee Meg and I play, only this time with five girls plus me!) I love this: writing as a social event and opportunity for learning about voice and story structure. Making ourselves write - at least a sentence, because someone else depends on it. One word at a time.

I have been struggling to finish the crappy first draft of Work in Progress for a couple of weeks now. I know what needs to be written, but I can't seem to get it down on paper (um, computer). I'm childishly waiting for the inspiration, when the grown-up part of me knows that the inspiration comes from the perspiration, from just doing it.

One word at a time. (This post reminds me that I'm due to read Bird by Bird by Anne LaMott again. Doesn't she say that? And so much better than I?)

Tense: Past, Present, Future

In every meaningful relationship, each person brings to the table some beautiful qualities, and some very annoying ones. Confession: I have a habit that drives my husband to distraction whenever I ask him to read something unedited (like a blog): My blatant disregard for tenses.

"Léna," he says slowly, then with rising exasperation, "You started in the present tense and then switched to the past tense, and then back again!"

Past tense, present tense, future, the pluperfect - how does a gal keep it all straight?

Lest you think I'm a ditz here, in my youth I was often up to my eyeballs in conjugating verbs in French, Latin, and in college, Italian. A sense of time is important in many languages. But recently I came across a language where these tenses don't even exist!

"How wonderful," was my immediate, visceral reaction. I love writing about the American Southwestern desert: much of EDGES is set there, and it also serves as the backdrop for my current Work In Progress. I am trying to learn as much about the Hopi Indians, (a people in Northeastern Arizona) as possible, and it is the Hopi language that eschews tense. What does that say about them as a people? Are they always in the present? I have so much more to find out!

This concept also reminds me of my grandmother, and the ways she would play with the concepts of time in her books. Is time linear? Is there really a past, a present, a future, a pluperfect? Her books and her over-riding philosophy of life started to teach me that maybe it's not, maybe all things happen together at once, and we are all an important part of the fabric of the universe.

So is this a lofty way of making excuses for myself and lazy writing? Probably, but it is definitely worth further exploration into the mindset of the Hopi Indians!

Megday: Sometimes Ya Gotta Gab

"What should I blog about," I ask and Meg strokes her chin. Meg is my mentee from Girls Write Now and we meet every Monday. We have just spent our past writing hour gabbing together about this and that. We usually meet at Starbucks, but as my daughter is sick, we are in my living room while my angel watches Noggin.

"Well," I say, attempting profound thoughtfulness. "Sometimes ya gotta gab in order to . . ." I falter and stare into space. "C'mon Meg, help me out here. Be fab?"

"Be drab?" Meg offers. "No, that's terrible. To catch a crab?"

We need something pithy and too the point. This is embarrassing.

"I don't know what it is about your couch, but it makes me want to spill my guts," Meg says. We did have a plan: we were to write rough drafts for the fantastic Girls Write Now anthology: 800 words.

"Okay, we'll just have to do them on our own then, and go over them next week," I say. "Sometimes ya gotta gab . . . this is driving me nuts!"

"It's all good," Meg says, pausing. And I know she's right. It sure is all good. Writing, talking about writing, delving into and finding pieces of ourselves through relationships with others. "Sometimes ya gotta gab . . . is a profound statement in and of itself," Meg finishes her thought.

Surrounded by creativity, whether I like it or not.

I didn't want to leave my family this morning. My daughter was sick, which meant my husband would be stranded in the house with all three kids all day. But I had other commitments, as my life has gotten bigger and bigger. I needed to be at a Playwrighting Workshop at Girls Write Now in the morning, and at Writopia in the afternoon.

"We'll be fine," my husband said over my son wailing Led Zeppelin on his electric guitar.

"Can I watch TV?" My daughter was coughing and her eyes watering. It was just going to be that kind of day, and there was nothing I could do about it except to go and show up for the other parts of my life.

Down at Girls Write Now, Meg, my mentee, greeted me with a big hug at the refreshment table. At our monthly workshops, we always start off with a writing ice-breaker, so Meg and I spread bagels with gloppy natural peanut butter, sat down, rolled up our sleeves and started working, coming up with three characters and stage directions. I hadn't noticed the subtitle: One-woman show. (Cool! I had written and performed a one woman show fifteen years ago as my thesis for my MA in Drama Therapy called: Pandora's Hot Box.)

Writer, actress, mentor (and former classmate at Barnard) Julie Polk took us through a dynamic analysis of The Wizard of Oz, going through the six components of dramatic structure: 1) Status Quo and Exposition, 2) Inciting Incident, 3) Rising Action, 4) Turning Point, 5) Climax, 6) Resolution. It was a wonderful reminder to check my current manuscript for all of these elements; it would help me get organized.

Next up was Craft Talk with actor, teacher, writer Petronia Paley, who performed a piece from her own one-woman show, On The Way to Timbuktu. Her presence, rhythm and character changes were compelling. Then she talked about delving into your higher self to write, and lead us through a pranayama: a yogic breathing exercise. It reminded me that my best writing comes from a place where I am relaxed and open.

I wasn't able to stay for the in depth writing exercise after that, but I was happy to go back uptown and see my Writopian girls, who were ready, willing and eager to write. It's funny how much energy is supporting me to live a creative life: I find myself surrounded, even in the moments when I don't want it, when I just want to stay in bed and cuddle my sick daughter. That's what these commitments with other writers are good for. And now, next time I sit down to write and have that "block" I will do a yogic pranayama exercise, and think of Petronia Paley!

A World of Radical Possibility

What is that? A church? I thought she promised to blog about her Writers 4 Writers lunch, and brag about the gang: Rebecca Stead, Deborah Heiligman, Elizabeth Winthrop and Lucy Frank? Instead we get church? Well folks, I'm sorry to disappoint, but there's nothing about our lunch I can really share with the world at large - but know that we sat there for hours and were loath to leave one another! (Daphne Grab and Carolyn Mackler were sorely missed.)

So yes, today's blog will be about the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, where I work part-time as a tour guide and workshop leader for the education department. What does that have to do with a Lit.Life, you may well ask. St. John the Divine is the patron saint of writers for one, and for another, it is a place I will forever associate with my grandmother, who for forty years was the librarian and the writer-in-residence. I became involved with the Cathedral myself, volunteering to create a workshop for the education department based on A Wrinkle in Time. Later, I created a more generalized writing workshop. Last summer I thought, hmmmm . . . the money sure isn't raking in with my writing career, maybe I should work here. So I underwent training to become a tour guide, looking at the cathedral in a secular, educational way.

Today I had the insane pleasure of giving an architecture tour to my son's second grade class. My son was excited, the class was excited, and I was over the moon that my son still thinks I'm cool. I led them through the cathedral, explaining the mish-mash of architectural styles, Gothic and Romanesque, pointed arches vs. rounded arches, columns vs. piers. There were tech people around preparing for an event and at one point, the dark cathedral was flooded with light. A gasp came from a little girl in the class.

"Do miracles happen in this cathedral?" she asked.

"I love your question, Why do you ask?" I said, not knowing where this conversation would lead.

"Well, when the lights came on, it felt like a miracle." Wow. She blew me away.
I didn't have an answer, but I riffed off of her.

"Yes! Often it depends on what you believe and how you choose to see things. I think people who come here, regardless of religion, want to believe in miracles in this beautiful space. So they see them."

"I felt one," the girl corrected me.

All I could do is nod, and ponder her Yoda-like response.

The other kids seemed satisfied with this answer, and I went on to talk about how the building is structured, with an emphasis on flying buttresses, getting the prerequisite giggles.

But I kept thinking about the girl's question and her certainty in feeling. This theme also comes up in EDGES, as it is something that is always hovering about my consciousness: what we believe and how we cope. As a writer, I value child-like curiosity, I strive for the openness to see and to listen to the characters and their story. And as a grown-up, maybe I strive too hard to see, and not to feel. I too long for a sense of the miraculous, and want to live in a world of radical possibility.

Honoring Dr. Seuss' Birthday

What better way to honor Dr. Seuss' birthday than to participate in a READ ACROSS AMERICA event at friend Steve Evangelista's charter school, Harlem Links! Steve found me last year through my grandmother's website, and came to a few writing workshops that I was leading at Morningside Bookstore on the Upper West Side (including a workshop based on A Wrinkle in Time.) He then invited me to come and share my love of reading with some other writers and board members of his school.

So it was with eager anticipation today that I walked over to Harlem Links' new location on 111th and Lenox. I would also be hanging out with friends Elizabeth Winthrop and Courtney Sheinmel. Elizabeth is old friends with two of the board members, (Steve had made the connection between Elizabeth and myself through this blog), and I had recommended Courtney because I think every tween should read POSITIVELY. (Elizabeth's catalog of work is too long and awe-inspiring to list!)

We were greeted by coffee and muffins, and had a chance to schmooze with some of the other guests. This was followed by each pair of guest readers sitting at a table with four "ambassador" students. Elizabeth and I were at a table with four fifth graders who were eager to be read to. One girl remembered me from last year, and that I had read The Lorax to her fourth grade class. Would I read it again? You bet! Elizabeth and I developed a great rhythm together with the kids: I read and paused at certain places, and we would raise questions about character and plot.

Next up: Elizabeth and I went to different classrooms for a read-aloud and a Q&A. Elizabeth brought her book, Squashed In the Middle to read. I asked my two ambassadors to choose a book for me, and they picked my favorite: Oh, the Places You'll Go!

The kids brought me up to their classroom and set up a chair for me, even offering me water and going so far as getting me a peppermint!

I enjoy reading aloud immensely - and this was no different. The children were attentive and appreciative, but it was the Q & A that blew me away: so much curiosity and sharp intelligence about the writing process! I could have stayed much longer and schmoozed with them, but alas, they had the rest of the school day, and other things to learn.

Courtney and I met afterward for lunch in the neighborhood. We compared notes on a wonderful, enriching morning, feeling grateful to have our opportunities in the literary world, and the chance to enthuse young readers about books.

Happy Birthday Dr. Seuss!

Next post: Thursday, March 4th - another Writers for Writers lunch!

EDGES: ARC show & tell

How to celebrate hard work coming to fruition? Carry around bound galley and show to absolutely everyone you meet! (I would go get a pedicure, but all three kids need new shoes!) My first stop was breakfast with the fabulous Lila Castle who brought along her ARC of The Star Shack to show me. We cooed and oohed and ahhed over each other's babies as any other mother would do. It's so wonderful to be able to share this experience with Lila! I've also had a really fun experience on Facebook, where friend Lauren B. Davis suggested another friend Lish McBride from Seattle because we both have YA books coming out next fall. We've had a great time getting to know each other in cyber-land, and she got her ARC's about a week before mine!

Next stop in my Lit.Life was home to write a scene for my new book. I should have stayed out, because the bed (my office) was too comfortable, I couldn't help closing my eyes . . .

And as you know, Monday is also Megday, so I woke myself up to run to a different Starbucks to meet her . . . and she shared my excitement about the ARC. The ARC! It's been YEARS of struggling with self doubt about my choice to heed the call to practice the art of writing, and I am doing everything I can to set up my life so I can keep at it! My eyes are watering . . . I am SO grateful!

I will leave you with my favorite piece of writer advice this week, from Margaret Atwood, via Lauren B. Davis:

"You most likely need a thesaurus, a rudimentary grammar book, and a grip on reality. This latter means: there's no free lunch. Writing is work. It's also gambling. You don't get a pension plan. Other people can help you a bit, but ­essentially you're on your own. ­Nobody is making you do this: you chose it, so don't whine."

Tomorrow, Tuesday: READ ACROSS AMERICA at my friend Steve Evangelista's school, Harlem Links, with friends Elizabeth Winthrop and Courtney Sheinmel!