Write a few words. Make every moment count. Those minutes those words add up. #MondayMotivation
Today my students, my inner-city high school students, asked me what my book is about. After giving them a brief synopsis, some said, “I want to read that.” “First I need to finish writing it,” I replied.
Now maybe, quite possibly, they were just trying to butter up their English teacher, but still, they reminded me to keep working on it. So, when I missed my train home by a minute and had a half hour to kill, I brought it to life instead by grabbing some napkins from Starbucks and scribbling a new part of the story. Who knows if this will make it in, but at least I’m back in the story’s world, a place I’d been away from for far too long.
It’s good to be home.
I saw this posted on FB today by #KevinSmith. Yes, I thought. Yes. Let us create in the face of destruction. Write a poem, a letter to the editor, a short story–it can be about the tragedy our nation faces or it can be about puppies; it doesn’t matter. What matters is that we continue to create, we continue to make this world new, we continue to affirm our community with others, all others. So, knit a scarf; paint a painting; make some jewelry; hook a rug; sing a song; play an instrument. Do what you do to create some beauty in world that looks pretty ugly when we turn on the news.
I just posted a poll on the Facebook page for my Etsy shop asking friends what their favorite summer craft is. I did this because I have more time in the summer to craft, so I think of it as a time to create. I’ll be honest though, unless the air conditioner is on high, I prefer to save the yarn crafts for cooler weather! There’s nothing nicer than being halfway or more through a blanket on a cold winter evening. In the summer, I tend to turn more towards sewing.
Part of this may also be because I am a high school English teacher. During the school year, I use my crocheting as a way to unwind (unwind the mind while winding the yarn!); I sit in front of the TV with my hubby and crochet. It helps me let go of the hectic day so that my brain is ready for bed.
Sewing, on the other hand, I have to do while I am alert and focused. It is more exacting and fires up my brain rather than relaxes it. When I have off from work, it’s exciting to engage in a few projects during the day that charge my brain. I’m currently working on a sundress and have a plan to make some Roman shades too.
Writing is an all year activity, but I will admit that I do rachet up the hours during the summer. Teaching, planning, and especially grading can be exhausting, so I while I journal a lot and write some during the school year, less gets polished than I would like. During the summer, I can devote more time to “finishing” works.
Another all year activity, without the caveat, is painting. Our school’s annual art show is always in June (last weekend in fact). Then, we start again. Rain or shine I go, even in the snow if it isn’t too bad. And if it is, I might draw at home. Painting/drawing demands focus as well, but in a different way than sewing. I have to focus on what I’m seeing and put all the other random thoughts out of my head. I find it rather meditative and cleansing (even though my paint clothes might not show it!)
What about you? Do your crafts have a season?
That handwriting is impossible to read–
The pencil has smudged the words
Out of existence–
Sometimes their pens blot and words
Become blobs, obscuring
And then, there are the
crossouts, the write-overs,
The spots never
The lights are dim in here, aren’t they?
My eyes burn and water, blurring
The page, drowning the cries of Frankenstein who
Has suddenly stabbed Laertes in Elsinore, or of
Hamlet, chasing the creature
Across the frozen tundra to
It is cold in here, isn’t it? I’ll go get
A sweater, and a cup of tea. Then,
I’ll be ready. Except,
Where did I leave my glasses? And
There’s one. –Ah, but it’s red, and
Too upsetting to their
Delicate hearts that i carry with me
As they ponder who is the mad lady hidden
In Pemberly’s attic.
I’d better switch to green, or better yet
Purple for Celie and her sister, Little Nell.
Dear hearts, they’re trying, but when
Offred travels to the Savage Reservation
And meets the Eloi in 1984, my head
Spins and my throat is as dry as
The Sahara where the Little Prince
Cries about his Beloved Country, and it seems like
These papers may never get finished.
Whether you are in the last days, last weeks, or last months of the school year, if you are an English teacher, I am sure you have stacks of papers to grade. Today’s Creative Writing Club prompt was to write an “impossible poem” (See Writer’s Digest prompt for May 1st.) Of course my first thought was finishing all the grading I have to do! As I wrote, the characters started to story hop. I hope you enjoy! Now, back to grading!
I just participated in the most amazing teacher workshop, and all I want to do is write! Through The Academy for Teachers, I was lucky enough to be a part of a group of astute people discussing The Art of the Essay with Jeff Nunokawa from Princeton as our cheer leader and guide. Today was day 2 of 2. I wish there were more.
Last Sunday, I finally sat down to “do my homework” at the last minute, having carefully avoided it for ten days. I knew I wanted to revisit and revise a piece I’d started two years ago about my friend Harry, but I kept putting it off because I was tired, because I had papers to grade, because I had lessons to plan, because, because, because. Finally, I sat down, opened the file, and dug in. Two hours later my husband called to find out how I was doing. I was great! Writing had revived me from the lethargy of winter, the albatross of grading, and the oppression of procrastination.
The other part of our homework I completed this afternoon before the session began: reading essays written by the other teachers attending. Wow. They were powerful–and diverse in both content and style. I couldn’t wait to get there and begin!
And I was not disappointed. We discussed them with care and insight. There is something so exhilarating about intelligent conversation that seeks to understand and build up. This was no show of “how smart I am,” but rather “how good a writer are you”: Let’s discuss this personal, yet universal issue you brought up; let me tell you what I understand from your writing; you can tell me more about the topic or situation. And then, I’ll take note of what I can learn from this exchange, again in both content and style. Isn’t this what we should always be doing?
I am at my best when I do what I ask my students to do– read, write, discuss. So now even though I’m exhausted as I sit on the train home 15 hours after leaving there this morning, I’m writing, to you, and I hope you’ll write too. And we can learn together.
No fooling, April 1st begins National Poetry Month. I told my students on Monday that I didn’t care about April Fool’s Day, the important thing is that it is the beginning of National Poetry Month. I went on to explain how the NCAA-esque poetry brackets work. You see the NEHS is sponsoring a poem tournament for the month of April, school-wide. It’s a pretty ambitious project. Fingers crossed it goes well with a lot of participation. (More on this later; stay tuned.)
But appreciation is only half of the NPM coin for us writers and poets. So once again, I’m trying my hand at Writer’s Digest’s Poem-A Day Challenge. It’s really good exercise for one’s creative muscle to commit to writing every day, and so many do it regularly. For me, it’s fits and starts. I go for stretches when I write regularly, let’s say five out of seven if not every day, but then… something happens that gets me off track. April and the Poem-a-Day Challenge are a great way to get back in the groove.
So, you may have noticed, this is not a poem. But as the wee hours of April 1st wore away, I scribbled down a few lines in response to the day’s prompt: write a morning poem. And as I write this, another angle for this prompt springs to mind. I may not post every day to give myself time for review and revise, but the aim is to write. I’ll keep at it. I hope you do too. Happy National Poetry Month.
National Poetry Month is around the corner. With it, spring, and Easter, I feel myself coming alive again. Hibernation is over. Sharpen the pencils. Let’s see what has germinated over the long winter.
When you can’t decide between reading more poetry or writing some, life is good.
End of the Line
The last railroad tie was finally hammered into place. Now there was nowhere left for Chen to go.
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