What with author/historian Jerry Apps coming to talk with Guild members, then give a public presentation; plus an email from an NPR (National Public Radio) employee inviting the Guild to take part in a new venture, our numbers are, for the forseeable future anyway, steeped in rural aspects.
That raised questions:
What drew Mr. Apps to give "little histories" a voice?
We're hoping to hear that answer on Thursday evening.
What draws Guild members to live where we do?
That sparked conversation at this evening's meeting. Park Falls. Glidden. Butternut. Springstead. Fifield. All map dots - some smaller than others. And yet...There is a special freedom born from living in smaller places. A freedom to be what we want, how we want, when we want. We tend to be stubborn. We tend to be more self-sufficient than our city-dwelling counterparts. We tend to find true appreciation in the small. We're proud of our rural roots and aren't afraid to let it be known! Whether we stay for love of place, love of person, love of quiet, love of solitude -- we actively choose to stay.
Do we miss out? On certain things of course. But as our youngest Guild member, Hailey, so aptly puts it -- "for us going to a bigger city can be a treat, a break in our routine; even if we're just going shopping at WalMart or Target, because its something we can't do every day."
What makes you bloom where you are planted? Do you ever give it a passing thought? Think on it. You might be surprised at what you discover.
Monday, October 14, 2013
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
go deep
by Anna Maria Hansen
I sit on the front porch of my house, back nestled against the sun-warmed wooden siding. All around me, autumn light seeps... vibrant and many-hued. The smell, both sweet and tangy; a tiny ripple of wind brushing by. I roll a pencil back and forth between my fingers. I'm trying to catch this moment of time. Pin it down on a piece of paper.
For myself, I am never satisfied with just putting down the facts. I want to make it so others can feel it. I want to give them a single moment in my head. The colors of fall -- we've heard them all a thousand times. Red, orange, yellow. Gold, russet, cranberry. Burgundy, amber, tawny. I'm tired of lists of colors. I'm tired of descriptions of fall.
And yet, I love autumn. I love the way it feels. All bitter and sweet and regretful and beautiful in its brief and glorious passing. It's a scant moment, a flash of weeks that flood by too fast to get a hold of.
Sometimes, capturing certain things is very challenging. Not because it hasn't been done before, but rather, because it has been done so very many times it has become passe. And all at once, writing becomes a bit more work as you analyze the details, look closer that before, see things that are new. Be aware of what has been written before you. Take another look and see it with your eyes. No one else has ever seen autumn through your eyes. Watch. Think. Write.
Go deep, and the cliche can become new.
I sit on the front porch of my house, back nestled against the sun-warmed wooden siding. All around me, autumn light seeps... vibrant and many-hued. The smell, both sweet and tangy; a tiny ripple of wind brushing by. I roll a pencil back and forth between my fingers. I'm trying to catch this moment of time. Pin it down on a piece of paper.
For myself, I am never satisfied with just putting down the facts. I want to make it so others can feel it. I want to give them a single moment in my head. The colors of fall -- we've heard them all a thousand times. Red, orange, yellow. Gold, russet, cranberry. Burgundy, amber, tawny. I'm tired of lists of colors. I'm tired of descriptions of fall.
And yet, I love autumn. I love the way it feels. All bitter and sweet and regretful and beautiful in its brief and glorious passing. It's a scant moment, a flash of weeks that flood by too fast to get a hold of.
Sometimes, capturing certain things is very challenging. Not because it hasn't been done before, but rather, because it has been done so very many times it has become passe. And all at once, writing becomes a bit more work as you analyze the details, look closer that before, see things that are new. Be aware of what has been written before you. Take another look and see it with your eyes. No one else has ever seen autumn through your eyes. Watch. Think. Write.
Go deep, and the cliche can become new.
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
writer's block
by Karen Dums
All writers get it, or so I assume. That time of staring at a blank sheet of paper, or a blank computer screen. A few words are written, then scratched out with a pen, tearing holes in the paper. A few words are typed, then backspace takes a few hits, all are deleted. It leaves me to wonder...
Ideas are all about us, floating just above our reach, knocking at the doors of our consciousness. Or is there more that leads to the blank page? Are we fearful? Who will find our words worth reading? Are we lazy? I just don't have time. Maybe we truly don't have time...or think we can't make it.
A few weeks back I threw out a prompt "what is the greatest invention ever created?" It didn't even have to be a REAL invention. Writers could use their imaginations freely. Guild member Linda Rybak came up with an interesting invention. A time bank. Her premise was that we could take back all the time we've wasted through the years and be given new time to spend in more satisfactory ways. Maybe we could call it time laundering. Criminals do it with money and we're not criminals. Discussion ensued among Guild members carrying her idea further. What if it was like an actual bank account. There we deposit money, withdrawing it when needed. So too with time. Time could be deposited, withdrawn when needed. That made perfect sense to me! Guild member Scott Schmidt took it even a step further. If it was a joint account could two people draw on it in an equitable fashion? A humorous meeting took place that evening. Bantering back and forth regarding time. But when put in a writer's life perspective what a wonderfully valid invention a time bank would be!
Most Third Story Writers Guild members cannot or do not write full time. We have pressures of work, family, life. Where to squeeze in those hours for unfettered writing? As is often said "somthing's gotta give." Too often for us its not the job or the kids or the volunteerism or the household duties, it's the writing. A time bank would indeed be wonderful. For none of the aforementioned should be neglected either.
This train of thought sparked an idea of my own. What if we cleared an evening from our calendars and spent the entire time writing? What if not just an evening but an entire night? Twelve hours of uninterrupted writing would be bliss. A write-athon. A write-in. Whatever name we put to it would suffice. We could spend it with our pen and paper or with our computer keyboard.
I've broached the subject to Guild members. Not much response yet. They may be thinking what will "give" is sleep. Too true. But what's one night if we can spend it getting our dream down on paper?
Could a few hours loss of sleep cure your "writer's block?" Let me know your thoughts, please.
All writers get it, or so I assume. That time of staring at a blank sheet of paper, or a blank computer screen. A few words are written, then scratched out with a pen, tearing holes in the paper. A few words are typed, then backspace takes a few hits, all are deleted. It leaves me to wonder...
Ideas are all about us, floating just above our reach, knocking at the doors of our consciousness. Or is there more that leads to the blank page? Are we fearful? Who will find our words worth reading? Are we lazy? I just don't have time. Maybe we truly don't have time...or think we can't make it.
A few weeks back I threw out a prompt "what is the greatest invention ever created?" It didn't even have to be a REAL invention. Writers could use their imaginations freely. Guild member Linda Rybak came up with an interesting invention. A time bank. Her premise was that we could take back all the time we've wasted through the years and be given new time to spend in more satisfactory ways. Maybe we could call it time laundering. Criminals do it with money and we're not criminals. Discussion ensued among Guild members carrying her idea further. What if it was like an actual bank account. There we deposit money, withdrawing it when needed. So too with time. Time could be deposited, withdrawn when needed. That made perfect sense to me! Guild member Scott Schmidt took it even a step further. If it was a joint account could two people draw on it in an equitable fashion? A humorous meeting took place that evening. Bantering back and forth regarding time. But when put in a writer's life perspective what a wonderfully valid invention a time bank would be!
Most Third Story Writers Guild members cannot or do not write full time. We have pressures of work, family, life. Where to squeeze in those hours for unfettered writing? As is often said "somthing's gotta give." Too often for us its not the job or the kids or the volunteerism or the household duties, it's the writing. A time bank would indeed be wonderful. For none of the aforementioned should be neglected either.
This train of thought sparked an idea of my own. What if we cleared an evening from our calendars and spent the entire time writing? What if not just an evening but an entire night? Twelve hours of uninterrupted writing would be bliss. A write-athon. A write-in. Whatever name we put to it would suffice. We could spend it with our pen and paper or with our computer keyboard.
I've broached the subject to Guild members. Not much response yet. They may be thinking what will "give" is sleep. Too true. But what's one night if we can spend it getting our dream down on paper?
Could a few hours loss of sleep cure your "writer's block?" Let me know your thoughts, please.
Monday, September 23, 2013
beloved friends...
by Lisa Cook
Well. Autumn means dwindling daylight hours here in our great Northwoods of Wisconsin. My laptop computer is down...again. And since I'm a terrible cheapskate who sees no reason in paying an extremely high light bill, here I sit, writing with ink and paper, by candlelight.
Sitting in my quiet apartment, I find myself thinking rather symbolically. Writing by candlelight. What ARE the "lights" in life? Church and faith would likely be foremost. Home. Music. Family and friends are great light, certainly. Writing itself is a light, in a very metaphorical way. The simple joys, you know? These are perhaps not "deep" thoughts...but symbolic ones, to be sure. All the above are my "lights. They give me both reasons to write and subjects to write about.
As Edith Wharton so aptly stated, "There are two ways of showing the light; to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it." Very wise. Where and what are YOUR candles? Can one not be both candle and mirror at times?
And here I sit, on my own in my quiet apartment, writing by candlelight
God Bless you, Beloved Reader. Write on !
Well. Autumn means dwindling daylight hours here in our great Northwoods of Wisconsin. My laptop computer is down...again. And since I'm a terrible cheapskate who sees no reason in paying an extremely high light bill, here I sit, writing with ink and paper, by candlelight.Sitting in my quiet apartment, I find myself thinking rather symbolically. Writing by candlelight. What ARE the "lights" in life? Church and faith would likely be foremost. Home. Music. Family and friends are great light, certainly. Writing itself is a light, in a very metaphorical way. The simple joys, you know? These are perhaps not "deep" thoughts...but symbolic ones, to be sure. All the above are my "lights. They give me both reasons to write and subjects to write about.
As Edith Wharton so aptly stated, "There are two ways of showing the light; to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it." Very wise. Where and what are YOUR candles? Can one not be both candle and mirror at times?
And here I sit, on my own in my quiet apartment, writing by candlelight
God Bless you, Beloved Reader. Write on !
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
words
I love writing.
That might seem obvious -- I call myself a writer after all; have written in many different forms; and do so on a daily basis. So yeah, obviously I love writing.
But I'm talking on a far deeper level... I love the feeling of a pen in my hand, shaping letters. Shapes that transmit feeling from one person to another. 2D doodles that can change a person's mood. I love the subtle power of words and the way a single word can sometimes make you feel something, think something, see something. I collect words; gathering them from different sources. Simple words, extraordinary words, paradoxical words, magnificent words. Then I put them in my invisible box of writing tools and pull them out, one at a time, to explain thoughts I have to other people. So that they can see, feel, smell, hear, be, want, fear, know... what I want them to.
I love that these shapes us humans made up can hold such power. People say, "Paint a picture with words." That's exactly what all writers should be doing. The recognition that words are art. Each shape has meaning that can be transmitted from person to person.
I love when a sentence comes out just the way it should. I love reading a sentence that is so good I mark the page so I can come back and re-read that one sentence again and again. I love words that are put together in such an out-of-the-box fashion that I see them -- and what the writer is saying -- in a completely and utterly different way. That, in a flash of eternity, other people's words can become something of you.
word (wûrd)
n. A sound or a combination of sounds, or its representation in writing or printing, that symbolizes and communicates a meaning
Monday, September 9, 2013
outside the box
by Karen Dums
At tonight's meeting a Guild member came up with what I felt was quite a unique idea. He proposed self-publishing his book, then attempting to market it through traditional publishing channels; ie getting an agent or an editor to pick it up.
His idea raised some interesting questions. Initially I wondered why he would go through the self-publishing process when his work has good merit; he could undoubtedly be published traditionally in my opinion.
That being said, his idea is a rather unique one and could work. Nothing ventured, nothing gained? In his hand would be a nearly complete project. I say nearly complete because as another member remarked, he would need to be open to suggestions and possible editing or be viewed as unyielding in his ideas and then who would want him as a possible client!?
Thinking outside the box has become a rather trite phrase, and annoying at times. But it causes creative growth when we step outside our comfort zones; when we become willing to risk. Risk our time. Risk our financial resources. Risk our egos being deflated.
I could probably do some research to learn how many authors have been published the first time they sent a manuscript out. Off the top of my head I can think of only one, Sandra Kring, a fellow Wisconsinite who's novel Carry Me Home was the quickest start I've ever heard of! There may be more, but probably not too many more. Even mega-hits such as Stephanie Meyer's Twilight series took some time to get off the ground.
So where's the harm in attempting something new? Is rule-bending so horrible?
In the future perhaps you'll be hearing the rest of the story.
At tonight's meeting a Guild member came up with what I felt was quite a unique idea. He proposed self-publishing his book, then attempting to market it through traditional publishing channels; ie getting an agent or an editor to pick it up.
His idea raised some interesting questions. Initially I wondered why he would go through the self-publishing process when his work has good merit; he could undoubtedly be published traditionally in my opinion.
That being said, his idea is a rather unique one and could work. Nothing ventured, nothing gained? In his hand would be a nearly complete project. I say nearly complete because as another member remarked, he would need to be open to suggestions and possible editing or be viewed as unyielding in his ideas and then who would want him as a possible client!?
Thinking outside the box has become a rather trite phrase, and annoying at times. But it causes creative growth when we step outside our comfort zones; when we become willing to risk. Risk our time. Risk our financial resources. Risk our egos being deflated.
I could probably do some research to learn how many authors have been published the first time they sent a manuscript out. Off the top of my head I can think of only one, Sandra Kring, a fellow Wisconsinite who's novel Carry Me Home was the quickest start I've ever heard of! There may be more, but probably not too many more. Even mega-hits such as Stephanie Meyer's Twilight series took some time to get off the ground.
So where's the harm in attempting something new? Is rule-bending so horrible?
In the future perhaps you'll be hearing the rest of the story.
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
eavesdropping 101
by Karen Dums
A tried, true and taught technique for writer's is eavesdropping. Finding yourself in a situation, any situation, can provide fodder for the pen.
You are dining in a small cafe'. At a table near you is a young couple. They are engaged in a heated exchange. Your powers of observation kick in! Conjure a scenario that could make it to your page, or if you have a notebook handy, jot it down immediately. Possibilities are easy. Since the observer has no true knowledge of the situation, he/she can make one up. Is there a ring on her finger? No. She wants to get married, he doesn't. Or, both are wearing wedding rings. His mother is coming to visit, he's happy, she's not. Perhaps one of them just lost a well paying job. "How will we make the rent?" One of them just had an affair. "What do you mean you slept with Jack?!"
Recently I was a vendor at a flea market. To my right was a man with a small Jeep and one table. "How is he going to make a dime?" thought I. A pony saddle for sale plus three fish filleting knives and three bone pullers on his small table. Would he take orders for delivery? Would buyers trust him to do that? His table was approached, people listened to his spiel. When we were packing up to leave he shared some info -- not one sale. Hmmm. Was my guess correct? Or do folks already know how to fillet fish without gizmos and trinkets? I don't know, but I could make something up...
On my left were an older man and a younger one. His grandson? They were selling cabinet pulls made from rocks and a type of mineral found in Mexico. "I spend my winters in Mexico," I heard the older man tell a potential customer. He didn't sell much either, nor was he as friendly as the man on my right. Rude? Shy? Unsociable? I don't know, but I could make something up...
Across the way was a couple, one male, one female, with six or seven tables loaded with household items. "Bet they're selling off their "inheritance" thought I. They did a brisk business all day. As we were packing up they said their folks had passed on. They'd been selling off what they could at flea markets and rummage sales all summer. Thus the hodgepodge of lamps, dishes, knick knacks, were what I had earlier guessed. Someone else's "stuff." Did I know the entire story? No. But I could make something up...
Eavesdropping 101. Stop. Look. Listen. One never knows from whence the muse shall come.
A tried, true and taught technique for writer's is eavesdropping. Finding yourself in a situation, any situation, can provide fodder for the pen.
You are dining in a small cafe'. At a table near you is a young couple. They are engaged in a heated exchange. Your powers of observation kick in! Conjure a scenario that could make it to your page, or if you have a notebook handy, jot it down immediately. Possibilities are easy. Since the observer has no true knowledge of the situation, he/she can make one up. Is there a ring on her finger? No. She wants to get married, he doesn't. Or, both are wearing wedding rings. His mother is coming to visit, he's happy, she's not. Perhaps one of them just lost a well paying job. "How will we make the rent?" One of them just had an affair. "What do you mean you slept with Jack?!"
Recently I was a vendor at a flea market. To my right was a man with a small Jeep and one table. "How is he going to make a dime?" thought I. A pony saddle for sale plus three fish filleting knives and three bone pullers on his small table. Would he take orders for delivery? Would buyers trust him to do that? His table was approached, people listened to his spiel. When we were packing up to leave he shared some info -- not one sale. Hmmm. Was my guess correct? Or do folks already know how to fillet fish without gizmos and trinkets? I don't know, but I could make something up...
On my left were an older man and a younger one. His grandson? They were selling cabinet pulls made from rocks and a type of mineral found in Mexico. "I spend my winters in Mexico," I heard the older man tell a potential customer. He didn't sell much either, nor was he as friendly as the man on my right. Rude? Shy? Unsociable? I don't know, but I could make something up...
Across the way was a couple, one male, one female, with six or seven tables loaded with household items. "Bet they're selling off their "inheritance" thought I. They did a brisk business all day. As we were packing up they said their folks had passed on. They'd been selling off what they could at flea markets and rummage sales all summer. Thus the hodgepodge of lamps, dishes, knick knacks, were what I had earlier guessed. Someone else's "stuff." Did I know the entire story? No. But I could make something up...
Eavesdropping 101. Stop. Look. Listen. One never knows from whence the muse shall come.
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