Reading Out Loud

Woke up this morning still laughing about a couple of Robert Fulghum stories I read out loud to Mrs DM before calling it a day last night.

We do that sometimes.

Read to each other.

My go-to author of short stories is Robert Fulghum.  Many of the stories are only a couple of pages long.  He’s got a wicked sense of humor. I highly recommend  just about anything he’s published.

Last night I picked up his book What On Earth Have I Done?

Mind if I share one of the stories with you?  It’s called Sunday Morning….

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Sunday. Sunday morning.  Some in church. Some in bed.  Some in limbo.  Some in slow motion to nowhere in particular.  And one alone looking for a small slice of the pie of delight:

Around 8:30, cool and foggy- shifting toward warm and sunny.

Walking along a quiet street, I hear a melodious voice sing out:

“Sweetie Pie; oh, Sweetie Pie, where are you, Sweetie Pie?”

I stop and listen.  “Who? Me?”

The voice came from a porch of a house across the street.

Trees and bushes hide the front of the house.

All I can see are the bare legs of a woman who is calling.

Nice legs.

“Sweetie Pie, oh, Sweetie pie.  Where are you, Sweetie Pie?”

So, what the hell,….what harm?

“I’m over here, darling,”  I answer in my best bedroom voice.

She can’t see me either.

I’m hidden by the trees and bushes on my side of the street.

But she’s hip and sings out:

   “I hope you’ve taken your dump, she says, “Come eat your nibbles,”

Aha!  A game is afoot.

 

“The dump is done. Can I have a latte with my nibbles?”

She doesn’t back down.

“And would you like a tummy rub with that?”

She laughs.

I laugh back.

And now her shaggy little black dog has finished his dump and comes woofing across the lawn and charges up the steps.

“Come to momma,” she says, “I didn’t know you liked coffee.”

I wander down the street, and the lovely voice calls after me.

“Have a nice day, Sweetie Pie.”

I see her now.  An old lady in her nightgown waving from her porch.

Nice legs.

Nice, nimble mind, too.  She’s a player.

I walk on with the dog of my imagination running unleashed through the bushes of my brain, looking for a place to unload.

Too bad her dog came back.

I could have used a tummy rub.

Photo by Google

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Do you have a favorite author(s)?  Tell me who (and why).  Any books you’d highly recommend?

Call me old school.  I still love the feel of a good hard cover book in my hand.  Normally buy them for pennies on the dollar through Amazon books (used hardcovers).

Later!  DM

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The Man from the lobby

I had an hour to kill.

Decided to sit in the hotel lobby and people watch.  I was in town to give another presentation of a book I had gotten published the year before.

Then I saw him.   A man who had attended a previous presentation I had given 6 months before.  Felt a low-grade panic settle in my gut.  All I knew about the man was he too was an author.  Pretty sure he was a college professor.  My biggest concern was a good portion of my presentation would be similar to the one he had heard 6 months before.

Dang.

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I’m one of those people who when faced with a fear, 9 times out of 10 I will got after it head on, rather than stew.   I decided to head to the conference room early and re-introduce myself to the man from the  lobby.

He wasn’t hard to find.  He was sitting close to the front, right behind my table.  I walked up to him, and said I remembered him from before.  He instantly lit up. I put one knee down on the carpet, next to the table, and confessed to him, much of what he would hear  this afternoon was probably going to sound familiar.  I’ll never forget what he told me.

” You need to make sure you tell the story you told before, the one about the feedback you’d received on your rough draft. Bill So and So and I talked about that after your presentation.  That was so powerful.”

I looked him in the eyes, and thanked him profusely…for you see, the last time I had given my presentation, I had vented to the assembled.  I had gotten off my notes and shared some behind the scene angst on the writing of my book.  I questioned the wisdom of doing that at the time.  Come to find out, this seasoned author, this man from the lobby,  had been touched by that story, as much, if not more, than by my book.

We never know, do we.

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If you’re a long time reader, you may remember.  I’d written the introduction and first chapter to a book.  Shared it with someone I used to get together with on a regular basis, who had had several things published and seems to know what he was talking about when giving feedback.  Well, his feedback, while well meaning, was brutal.  I ended up second guessing myself to the point, the book project was shelved from 2008 until 2015…

7 years.

Then after 7 years, I still had this book rumbling around in my head.  The internal pressure began to build.  Those of you that have to write know what I’m talking about.

I had to get it out.

Even if it didn’t  measure up.

So in 2015 I wrote  the rough draft.

Then in 2016 I got it published.

 

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Here is an excerpt from my favorite writing mentor Brenda Ueland from her book If You Want To Write:

“How does the creative impulse die in us?  The English teacher who wrote fiercely on the margin of your theme in blue pencil: “Trite, rewrite, helped to kill it.  Critics kill it, your family.  Families are great murderers of the creative impulse, particularly husbands. Older brothers sneer at younger brothers and kill it.  There is that American pastime known as “Kidding” – with the result that everyone is ashamed and hangdog about showing the slightest enthusiasm or passion or sincere feeling about anything….

You have noticed how teachers, critics, parents, and other know-it-alls, when they see you have written something, become at once long-nosed and finicking and go through it gingerly sniffing out the flaws. AHA! a misspelled word! as though Shakespeare could spell! As though spelling, grammar and what you learn in a book about rhetoric has anything to do with freedom and imagination….

And so no wonder you don’t write and put it off month after month, decade after decade.  For when you write, if it is to be any good at all, you must feel free, free and not anxious.  The only good teachers for you are those friends who love you, who think you are interesting, or very important, or wonderfully funny; whose attitude is: Tell me more.  Tell me all you can.  I want to understand more about everything you feel and know….Let more come out….

Yes, I hate orthodox criticism.  I don’t mean great criticism, like that of Matthew Arnold and others, but the usual small niggling, fussy-mussy criticism, which thinks it can improve people by telling them when they are wrong, and results only in putting them in straitjackets of hesitancy and self-consciousness, and weazening all vision and bravery.

I hate it not so much for my own account, for I have learned at last not to let it balk me.  But I hate it because of the potentially shining, gentle, gifted people of all ages that it snuffs out every year.  It is a murderer of talent.  And because the most modest and sensitive people are the most talented, having the most imagination and sympathy, these are the very first to get killed off.  It is the brutal egotist that survive…

…. and so now you will begin to work on your writing.  Remember these things. …Work with all your intelligence and love.  Work freely and rollickingly as though you were talking to a friend who loves you.   Mentally (at least three or four times a day) thumb your nose at all know-it-alls, jeerers, critics, doubters…”

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Well, time to get to work.  🙂 Later! DM

 

A Peek Into My Writing Journal

Last night the Internet was down.

I was in the mood to read something stimulating, so  I opened up my writing  journal that I have stored on my computer hard drive.

My writing journal is a catch-all of anything  that grabs me….

The only criteria for getting into the journal is at that moment, I am thinking, I might want to revisit these words again sometime, and the words grab me.

Quotes I come across, articles on current events that are especially articulate, things I’m wrestling with personally, etc.

Much of it is highly personal, and will never see the light of day (at least on the Internet).

Raw and unfiltered.

It takes just a couple of seconds to copy/paste  something good for later.   I highly recommend starting one if you haven’t already.

Word picture…Did you know cows have (4) stomachs? Yep. Ever hear of a cow chewing it’s cud?  Basically, the cow coughs up something it has already chewed on and swallowed and chews on it some more.  That is what my writing journal is…good stuff I have already digested, but may want to chew on it again. 🙂

In 2013, I was second guessing myself as a writer.  Got some good feedback from several of you that wound up in the writing journal.

Here is one piece of advice on writing that caught my eye last night:

“Write about what interests you, and do the best job you can.  Publish it, and then move on to the next thing (If you don’t move on, you risk one of two things.   If your piece is good, you’ll spend too much time patting yourself on the back.  If it’s bad, you’ll beat yourself you.  Write, and let go.

If people offer comments or criticism, consider them, but don’t be ruled by them.  For heaven’s sake, don’t worry about the numbers.                Linda

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If you are a blogger, (or a writer but not a blogger)  do you have any goals/ thoughts/ rules, etc.  for how you write?  Any tips that work for you as to what makes good writing?  Define good writing as far as you’re concerned.  What suggestions would you give someone who wanted to start blogging, but wasn’t sure of where to start?  Any suggestions for what not to do?  Who are some of your favorite writers and why?  (Feel free to leave a link  in your comment, if you have one.)

Google image

 

Stoke’n the fire

There is a fire that burns most days, way down in the depths of my soul.

Not just figuratively, mind you, but literally.

This morning as I was going over my notes for a series of speaking engagements this weekend on local history, I  could  literally feel the burner kick in…..

On the gas water heater and furnace that heats our house, you can hear both of them when they get ready to fire up. There is a distinct sound as the igniter kicks in….then after the flame lights/ the fan kicks in…..

 

That fire (passion) burns 85 % of the time when I am at work.

It also burns on days like today, when I’m talking somewhere.

Not even sure why I’m telling you this…. 🙂

I’m speaking this morning @ 10:30 and again @ 1:45.  I will let you know how it goes.

Can you see the fire in this guys eyes?

Photo compliments of google

Fallow

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Fallow field just outside my window

Fallow: Dormant, Inactive.

Fallow field: Intentionally giving a field a rest, a break from crop production, in order to replenish soil moisture and nutrition.

The same can apply to writing…. whether I am writing  a blog post or a book…

          “for he thought I was idle…. perhaps I am,  and perhaps I am not.  He forgot that a plowman’s mind wants to lie fallow a little, and can’t give a crop every year….”                                                                                                                              John Plowman

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Assertiveness Bill Of Rights

I have the right to change my mind

(From The Assertiveness Bill Of Rights)

(Not sure that is the exact same list we worked off of, but you’ll get the idea if you read through it)

I took a weekend workshop several years ago through our local community college on the topic of assertiveness, and assertive communication.

It was a watershed experience in my life.

Best $45 I have ever invested in personal growth and development.

I would highly recommend it!

I know I’ve written about it before, just not sure if I was here….

It gives me the freedom to tell you, I have changed my mind.

I have decided to continue posting  here.

I miss the interaction….  DM

Heads Up

From the mid 1990’s until 2007, I used to write the stuff like I write here, in an e-mail that went out to several dozen people from all over the place.  There was still the interaction, just in a different format.  Then I discovered blogging.

Wanted to let those of you that are regulars know I am  pulling the plug on this blog (heart to heart) sticking it in the archives and going back to e-mail interaction.  I plan to keep my farm blog up and running just because there are things happening on the farmstead I want to write about yet.

I have to write.

And I want to write in such a way I don’t have to second guess or censor what I write.

I’ve written a couple of things recently that after posting, stuck them back in the archives for various reasons……

I told someone recently, whenever a blogger I have interacted with suddenly falls off the Internet without notice and I have no way of knowing how to get in touch, it always makes me sad.  Even though I’ve never met most of you in person , in many cases you have become as dear to me as  family.

So, here’s the skinny.   There is absolutely no pressure on you to get your name in the hat for the new format.

None.

Nada.

I hate that when I feel someone manipulates me like that

Absolutely hate it.

If you are interested in getting those e-mails,  shoot me an e-mail.  Most of you that are reading this are bloggers anyway, and my e-mail contact would be on a comment of mine. If for some reason, you don’t have my e-mail and want to sign up, by all means leave a comment here and I will grab your e-mail off your comment.

Most of us have such full busy lives it’s hard to stay on top of reading we want to do.  I get that.

I still plan to read and interact with those of you that have blogs, so I’ll be around.

I’ll  keep this last post up for a week then..poof..this blog will be archived.

The times they are a changing….

DM

view throught the walking trail #2

Sunset behind our barn

Photo by DM