new location/writing update

I've brought my laptop to the big front porch that overlooks our front pasture. There's room for a crowd here, and I've often imagined a writing group meeting here some evening, reading out loud with glasses of wine and horses blowing in the background.

Now, it's mid-morning, I'm alone, except for the illustrious black cat Keats, a fitting companion for a writer, the low-flying small plane passing overhead, and four happy horses grazing and snorting to my right.

There is an easy breeze rustling the leaves, sounding a bit like distant surf, or waterfall, and it's one of those sunny spring days that prefaces summer but without the heat.

I've come out here mostly to enjoy the atmosphere, but also to get a new perspective on my writing agenda.

The official work-in-progress is on the back burner, simmering quietly but absolutely still in my head. Every few days I have a thought that needs jotting down in the black moleskine and it will be a wonderful day when I open that file and have several pages of notes to incorporate.

The main project right now is the second novel's revision. I've been fortunate in the past month to have two new reads to add to a previous read done last fall. And one close read of the first five or so pages. In June I'm heading to Weymouth with all these notes in hand, and a serious intention to dig in and implement some very good suggestions.

Next week I'll be rejoining my Thursday morning writing group for a summer sojourn - through mid-September - to focus on the second novel and gear up to query it after Labor Day.

And in little creative bursts on the side, my daughter and I pulled out the picture book we started a year ago and made some progress continuing the story.

I rewrote the first chapter of the YA novel I'd started a year ago and am awaiting feedback from my son, who can spot a plot hole a mile away and will also tell you without the blink of an eye if you're not hooking the reader.

All this should get me through 'til fall, when I hope to get back to the work-in-progress. There's a kaleidoscope-making workshop that figures largely in my plans to dive back into that ms.

And finally, the first novel is still being considered. Send it some good energy and if you have time, tell me about *your* creative agenda. I have lots of good energy ready to send.

loudon wainwright on songwriting

"Writing songs is like fishing. You sit in the boat and you wait. It's true you have to know the best spot, time of day, which bait to use, the difference between a nibble and a strike, and most importantly, how to get the damn fish into the boat. Talent is essential, craft is crucial, but for me, it's mostly down to waiting and luck."

the cure for anything

The cure for anything is salt water, sweat, tears, or the sea.

-Isak Dinesen


And gorgeous horses in fly masks in the back yard. :)

Some things...arrive in their own mysterious hour, on their own terms and not yours, to be seized or relinquished forever.

-Gail Godwin


I was thinking about this quote on the way to my office today, how fleeting things are sometimes and how easy it is to miss them altogether. There's an art and a talent to seizing the moment. There's an art and a talent to letting one go.

Just as I was thinking that, a song came on XM and while I've heard it before and liked it well enough, this piece resonated today:


Our lives are made
In these small hours
These little wonders
These twists and turns of fate
Time falls away
But these small hours
These small hours
Still remain


The small hours and little wonders of horses munching first cut organic orchard hay soft as silk, children with sore throats sipping ginger root tea and soup before napping, the gift of a much-wanted novel in the mailbox today.

At the office, walking in, this, which seems to mix spring, summer, and fall all into one:




Inside, seeing clients, the small hours became therapy hours and the little (and not so little) wonders continued.

I was not in the best mood earlier today, but by the time I came out of work into a soft but steady rain, that had shifted.




Seize. Relinquish. Knowing when to do which thing. Being present enough to see what's landed at your feet.

the week's end

Yesterday afternoon this image on the wall outside my garret perfectly captured the mood of the week's end ... golden light and dancing shadow, warmth inside as the wind outside took on a chill.

The image here doesn't quite capture the color and definitely not the movement, but it has its own grainy appeal.

And now, of course, we're on to Monday and a new week's magic.