Thursday, July 24, 2014

Writing in the moment

July 23, 2014

My writing schedule changed today. The early morning was spent adding posts to my two blogs. I started a new Pilates class at noon, then must-do errands. I did manage to write from 10:00 a.m. to 11:00 a.m. During that time, I revised a poem I started at retreat in Grand Lake. The end product:

The Naked Playhouse
A perfect, barren wood hole. Unborn, secret, living. The peepiest peep hole. Sunburnt face rolling over smokeysmooth wood, every curled, smooth piece. Dog barking to pop radio, peeing an imaginary territory far away. I want to mark every inch. I jump, I skip, I somersault, yelling to no one and everyone, this place is mine and only mine! My daddy built it from nothing just for me!

My naked memory playhouse. My daughter wants to see my dream. Off we go, listening to 80's pop radio. The playhouse is gone. I dream, taste the logs, hear dogs, feel music. My only regret that day was not rolling naked among the logs, marking my territory, among the logs my very own carpenter sanded just for me. 

This poem is a true experience. Writing about "real life" at the retreat made me realize that I might never be a memoir writer, nor a writer of personal essays. I feel uncomfortable, and anxious, when I write true to my life. I love the freedom of fiction writing too much!

Anyway, I carried my purse notebook when I was out and about yesterday. I am like a fly on the wall, listening, looking, feeling other's experiences. Of course, when I write these down it is strictly from my viewpoint. Nonetheless, I keep each purse notebook snippets. These are true experiences I had yesterday. Here are a  few snippets from my notebook:
Target. Waiting in return line. Long line. Cashier is rude. Does not bode well for me. My turn. Clerk questioned me about poster frame return. I told her it didn't fit. She told me it had scratches on it. I said, yes, that's also why I'm returning the frame. Her look--pure disgust. She snapped at me 'cause didn't have credit card out to complete return. Could not bring myself to tell her that I also didn't come home with one of the items on my receipt. Felt powerless. Shrugged it off, got a cart, and went shopping anyway. Found exact picture frame. Yay!

Petsmart: Running thru store. Frozen food in car. Cool day, tho. Cashier and I talked about the rude people at the nearby Target. She said she was happy because at least the Target experience wasn't just happening to her.

Rec Center: Frozen food still frozen. Sitting down waiting for my card. Very efficient place. Picked-up much needed fitness schedules. Pilates therapist said my knees have healed and I am good to go. Can hardly wait to tone-up and  lose the 10-plus pounds I gained over the last three months. Ugly picture of me on membership card.

The thing I like about notebooks, or iPhone Evernote, is that I can write anywhere I go. Some of my snippets are in the exact moment; and, then, the rest of the memory I jot down in my car. All of these notes are kept in a folder. If one of my characters comes across a similar situation, then I can just refer to my notes. I tend not to use the experience that happened to me. I just riff on it.

It's 10:00. Novel writing time.


  1. Love this blog. Today is always the time to write. I'm going to go write now.

    1. Thanks, Jim! A wise, old sage once said, "If you don't write you will never finish your book." I absolutely adored the piece from your new detective series! I keep calling the series The Buddhist Detective"???? You are truly talented. You write books I want to read. I hope I do the same.