And the traveling continues, most unexpectedly! Thanks to a lovely gift from my sis Kathy, I found myself March 10th, hopscotching to Rome and landing in Cairo for a twelve day pilgrimage of the Holy Land. I responded as a writer--I journalled every night when we came back to home base on our cruise ship, the Cristal, at least a bit, no matter how tired I was. And now I'm grateful as I read over the snippets of what we did each amazing day, to be able to break open each experience and relive it, coming to understand more fully as I write.
I'll share my insights with you, bit by bit: Egypt, Israel, Turkey and Greece. The very presence of these countries in my being now shapes my writing in ways that will surprise me, I know.
One bit for today--an experience in Galilee that rises quickly to the top for me. We stopped at the Mount of Beatitudes, overlooking the Sea of Galilee, a holy spot where tradition teaches Jesus spoke those eight wonderful Blesseds to the people. There on the green hillside sloping down to the sea our little group of pilgrims, in the Catholic tradition, celebrated Mass. Olive trees trembled in the afternoon breeze, their leaves green and silver. The birds (sparrows?) sang a spring song to us as we gathered on the top of that hill where Jesus taught almost 2000 years ago. And I had the joy and privilege of standing where Jesus stood and reading the Scriptures aloud at that Mass, Micah's words, "Shepherd your people, the flock of your inheritance." And then Psalm 103, "Bless the Lord, oh my soul; and all my being, bless his holy name."
It was a moment to be held tenderly for all my life. Someone told me afterwards my face glowed as I read--I'm sure it did. In that moment I realized the powerful blessing of God's goodness in a way that I will not forget.
So many moments in those twelve days. This is one of the joys of being a writer, to take each of these life experiences and hold it like a jewel, seeing new facets, then sharing the treasure in some way with my readers. I smile just thinking about it. Who knows what wonders will come forth?
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Thursday, January 08, 2009
Epiphany
I love this time of year! In our church year, we call January 6th Epiphany, the time when the magi arrived bearing gifts for the Child Jesus. But also, symbolically the time when the wider world (symbolized by those three wise men) came to know about this newborn King.
The Epiphany was an Aha! moment for the world, and even the word epiphany has come to mean an awakening, a sudden knowing. I love it! This is one of the most exciting things about the writing life--those little light bulbs going off when a new awareness comes. Sometimes it's the moment when I suddenly understand my character, and what she's all about, like when I finally got why Ellie feels so connected to her mysterious, long-dead Great-aunt Eleanore, in my newly finished Finding Nonna.
Sometimes it's a great plot twist, something unexpected, that comes in the middle of the night, or when I'm out on a moodling walk, like that Aha! moment I discovered what happened to the cruel Red-bearded soldier in Two Moon Journey, that was going to be mean a life and death decision for Shanote.
Sometimes the Epiphany is wordless, a feeling, something moving inside me, like the moment I had just after midnight New Year's Day, our neighborhood sky dripping bits of glitter from fireworks, and the snow covered trees glowing white in the velvet night. I stood there by the window, feeling an inner joy, an excitement for this year to come.
Kids have this excitement, this willingness to watch, to be surprised. See the watchful look on my granddaughter Cecilia's face? She's ready for the epiphanies of this year.
And this is my New Year's hope and prayer for you. May we stay awake in our deepest being, watching and listening for those epiphanies, great and small. May we see and hear them all.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Ringing out the Old Year
Three hours to go before 2009, and I am determined to do one more post to my Blog for 2008.
This is my commitment to blog more often in this coming year.
Blogging (for me) is a means of noticing some specific event of my life, searching out the meaning of that in a bigger way, and that making it truly mine by sharing it with you. For example, I (along with the rest of my fellow Seattle folk) have just come through two weeks of snow and ice, of postponed Christmas gatherings, and slippery, slushy roads.
For most of us in western Washington, this is unusual, and not all of us coped so well, quite a few getting truly stir-crazy and attempting icy hills with cars that should have stayed in warm garages.
I admit I loved being snowed in. I would like to say I wrote fast and furiously, reworking my Finding Nonna revision, and I did do a bit of that. But mostly I played Christmas carols, baked tons of cookies, made snow angels, walked in the snow (and yes, skidded on the ice at times, but in my hiking boots, not in my car.) I found it altogether lovely, and my one concern was the safety of family and friends who at times were out driving around.
My daughter, visiting from California, was snowbound with me and we loved cocooning in at night watching old Christmas movies, and eating (I regret to say) LOTS of those Christmas cookies I made.
So, did I waste my time, that precious writing time?
I don't think so.
I think I filled up my writing soul in a delightful way, as I looked out at those feathery flakes coming down, and the bare branch tree in my neighbor's yard, even the tiniest twig of it magically crusted with snow. I don't write fantasy novels, but that fairyland tree could easily inspire me to try one!
My spirit feels at peace this New Year's eve, rested in a deep way that I haven't felt for awhile.
I have just talked to (or left messages) for each of my five children, and I am ready to begin anew.
The snow is melting now, even the most cautious of snow chickens (like me) can get back on the road again. The postponed Christmas gatherings can take place, people can get to each other without sliding off into a ditch on the way.
But in that hunkering-down time when the snow was falling, falling, falling, and the roads were icy, I filled up that deep part of me writing soul.
Let the New Year begin!
This is my commitment to blog more often in this coming year.
Blogging (for me) is a means of noticing some specific event of my life, searching out the meaning of that in a bigger way, and that making it truly mine by sharing it with you. For example, I (along with the rest of my fellow Seattle folk) have just come through two weeks of snow and ice, of postponed Christmas gatherings, and slippery, slushy roads.
For most of us in western Washington, this is unusual, and not all of us coped so well, quite a few getting truly stir-crazy and attempting icy hills with cars that should have stayed in warm garages.
I admit I loved being snowed in. I would like to say I wrote fast and furiously, reworking my Finding Nonna revision, and I did do a bit of that. But mostly I played Christmas carols, baked tons of cookies, made snow angels, walked in the snow (and yes, skidded on the ice at times, but in my hiking boots, not in my car.) I found it altogether lovely, and my one concern was the safety of family and friends who at times were out driving around.
My daughter, visiting from California, was snowbound with me and we loved cocooning in at night watching old Christmas movies, and eating (I regret to say) LOTS of those Christmas cookies I made.
So, did I waste my time, that precious writing time?
I don't think so.
I think I filled up my writing soul in a delightful way, as I looked out at those feathery flakes coming down, and the bare branch tree in my neighbor's yard, even the tiniest twig of it magically crusted with snow. I don't write fantasy novels, but that fairyland tree could easily inspire me to try one!
My spirit feels at peace this New Year's eve, rested in a deep way that I haven't felt for awhile.
I have just talked to (or left messages) for each of my five children, and I am ready to begin anew.
The snow is melting now, even the most cautious of snow chickens (like me) can get back on the road again. The postponed Christmas gatherings can take place, people can get to each other without sliding off into a ditch on the way.
But in that hunkering-down time when the snow was falling, falling, falling, and the roads were icy, I filled up that deep part of me writing soul.
Let the New Year begin!
Thursday, October 30, 2008
A Berlin Baby and Other Joys
I'm back! It's been an amazing few months: An end-of-summer trip to Berlin, Germany to hold my brand new grandbaby Cecilia, who of course, is strikingly beautiful, and coos in both German and English. You may suspect I'm stretching it just a bit, since Cecilia is just two months old now, but that's how it sounded to me Saturday, as she told me a long story in her coo language.
Cecilia is richly blessed with a trumpet-playing papa (my son) and a dancer mama: Christiane who was born in East Germany, and who you will soon see is quite beautiful. Besides the great joy of being with this loving family for three weeks, I had the remarkable experience of writing some of my chapters for Finding Nonna sitting on the rocks by the waterfall at Victoria Park, my home away from home in Berlin. Not only are there wooded paths for wandering as I pondered just what Ellie would do to discover Nonna's secret, Victoria Park also has a great outdoor cafe with lecker eis (delicious ice cream). Each day I rewarded myself for my roughed-out chapter, by ordering " eins waffel mit eins kugel vanille und eins kugel erdbeere." (one cone with one scoop vanilla and one scoop strawberry.)
All in all, it was a lovely three weeks.
Less than 24 hours after I returned from Berlin, I welcomed my 4 year-old grandson from Santa Fe, New Mexico, along with his mommy and daddy, for ten days of blackberry picking, visiting with cousins, going as high as we could on the swings, buying two new swordtails for our aquarium, going to the Turtle Park, making muffins, making a magic wand, and other such delightful pursuits.
I rejoice in saying I suffered little Jet Lag from the Berlin trip--there just wasn't time for it!
And now the third Rejoicing I want to share with you all: I finished my revision of Finding Nonna this week. My writing group, the Diviners (see picture with the blog entry before this) gave me a round of applause. I was a little startled when I got to the end--somehow it just didn't seem that could happen, after all the time I've been working on this book.
Yes, I still have some rewriting to do--I've been at this business long enough to know that. I will be printing the book out this week and reading it all the way through to see what I still need to do before I begin marketing it. But for now, tonight, I am smiling, my heart happy at all the surprising insights, and the unexpected action scenes (who knew that Mark was going to be a skateboarder? Not me, at least not when I started.)
As I sign off from this first entry after my summer absence, I promise to be back much sooner this time around. In the meantime, my hope is for all of us to keep our hearts open to the Rejoicings all around us, be they cooing babies, double scoop erdbeere cones, or finished chapters of our books.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Celebrations on the Journey
Pictured here, Holly Cupala, Katherine Grace Bond, Janet Lee Carey,
our celebrated author,Molly Blaisdell, Judy Bodmer, and myself, Peggy
Not pictured: Justina Chen Headley, and Dawn Knight
The trials of the writing journey can sometimes discourage us, and then how thankful I am for my writing group, the Diviners. We meet each Wednesday afternoon to read and critique each other's work, to console during hard times, and to celebrate the grand events of our writing lives. This past week was one such glorious event, as we gathered to celebrate our dear Molly Blaisdell's new book, Rembrandt and the Boy Who Drew Dogs, just out through Barron's Publishing. Molly has such a fresh and wonderful take on Rembrandt's life through the eyes of his son Titus. This book is going to be a must-read for teachers, librarians, and lots of delighted kids, and we are rejoicing with our dear Molly! We cheered her (note the pom-pons) and had fun with flowers, cards and gifties of a writerly sort.
We did our work, too, reading and giving feedback on current chapters we'd brought, feeling fresh energy from our time of rejoicing. I left smiling, newly confirmed to keep on keeping on. The writing journey is worth it, and these joyful celebrations are one of the ways I remember this.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Catching Air
My almost-ten year-old grandson Jordan attended skateboard camp this week, and I, as his chauffeur learned right along with him. It was pretty cool, if a bit unnerving to watch Jordan zip up and down ramps and half pipes, trying out new tricks. The first trick to learn is the ollie, I discovered. This involves slamming down the tail of the board and leaping up in such a way as to "catch air." It looks easy when it's done right, the skater and board coming up as one.
But it's scary, too, and painful when skater and board don't reconnect in the right way. Jordan has an impressive-looking bruise on his left shin as testimony to this.
Still, the ollie is the basis for all the other skateboard tricks, including the kickflip, which mesmerized me as I watched the experts do it, leaping up, nudging their boards to spin in the air, then reconnecting gracefully: board, skater, and ramp.
Jordan and I both learned a powerful lesson this week: If you want to be a master skateboarder, you have to be willing to "catch air" no matter how painful the learning may be.
Writing (and life) are a lot like that too. Catching air means leaving behind the firm ground and taking at least a little leap. This summer, I've committed to doing just that with my current book project, Finding Nonna. I'm leaving behind the firm earth of the old plot and leaping up to catch some unexpected story twists involving an Italian greengrocer, a neurotic dog, and, as of this week, a skateboarding friend for Ellie.
I have to admit, as I leave the terra firma of the old plot, which was quite serviceable, my stomach is sometimes churning. But wow! As I catch air, and sometimes land on my feet by the end of the chapter (like yesterday) my heart soars. Each day I'm getting better with my writing Ollies.
I think this week I'll try a kickflip.
But it's scary, too, and painful when skater and board don't reconnect in the right way. Jordan has an impressive-looking bruise on his left shin as testimony to this.
Still, the ollie is the basis for all the other skateboard tricks, including the kickflip, which mesmerized me as I watched the experts do it, leaping up, nudging their boards to spin in the air, then reconnecting gracefully: board, skater, and ramp.
Jordan and I both learned a powerful lesson this week: If you want to be a master skateboarder, you have to be willing to "catch air" no matter how painful the learning may be.
Writing (and life) are a lot like that too. Catching air means leaving behind the firm ground and taking at least a little leap. This summer, I've committed to doing just that with my current book project, Finding Nonna. I'm leaving behind the firm earth of the old plot and leaping up to catch some unexpected story twists involving an Italian greengrocer, a neurotic dog, and, as of this week, a skateboarding friend for Ellie.
I have to admit, as I leave the terra firma of the old plot, which was quite serviceable, my stomach is sometimes churning. But wow! As I catch air, and sometimes land on my feet by the end of the chapter (like yesterday) my heart soars. Each day I'm getting better with my writing Ollies.
I think this week I'll try a kickflip.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Singing to the Birds
I saw a woman singing to the birds this weekend. She was standing under a gigantic willow tree in my favorite Juanita Bay Park, and chirping and trilling at two birds perched high up in the branches. She eagerly identified the two birds for me--a dusky flycatcher, and a common yellow-throat. "You just missed a Wilson's Warbler," she told me.
"I bet the birds love it, when you sing back to them," I said.
Her face lit up. "I know they do. If I were Cinderella, the birds would make a dress for me."
What a delightfully startling statement!
I will always remember this woman and her love for birds because of this. It made me ponder my own writing: Do I say things in fresh and startling ways, so that my reader will be pulled in and want to read on?
At a recent writing conference our facilitator at a round table discussion urged us to do just this. "Shock the Broca," Jim Rubart told us, explaining about that very small part of the brain (the broca) that filters out the ordinary, the usual, those expected words we all seem to spout in our first drafts.
In writing, as well as in life, we want to be heard and remembered. I think that's why I put iguanas and llamas in so many of my kid stories. Who could ignore a llama named Rama? That's what I hope at least.
And so, as I write today's chapter for Finding Nonna, I'm looking for ways to shock my readers' brocas. It has to be true to the story, of course. I can't just put in dramatic language for the sake of it, without moving the story forward. But I'm having fun today with the once ordinary Mom next door, who now mutters in french when she gets upset. And of course, she has some startling things to say to Ellie about the injured snow goose Bela.
Am I tantalizing you? I hope so. I want to shock your broca, just a little bit, and encourage you to use fresh and unusual language, both in life and in writing.
Who knows what you may sing up?
"I bet the birds love it, when you sing back to them," I said.
Her face lit up. "I know they do. If I were Cinderella, the birds would make a dress for me."
What a delightfully startling statement!
I will always remember this woman and her love for birds because of this. It made me ponder my own writing: Do I say things in fresh and startling ways, so that my reader will be pulled in and want to read on?
At a recent writing conference our facilitator at a round table discussion urged us to do just this. "Shock the Broca," Jim Rubart told us, explaining about that very small part of the brain (the broca) that filters out the ordinary, the usual, those expected words we all seem to spout in our first drafts.
In writing, as well as in life, we want to be heard and remembered. I think that's why I put iguanas and llamas in so many of my kid stories. Who could ignore a llama named Rama? That's what I hope at least.
And so, as I write today's chapter for Finding Nonna, I'm looking for ways to shock my readers' brocas. It has to be true to the story, of course. I can't just put in dramatic language for the sake of it, without moving the story forward. But I'm having fun today with the once ordinary Mom next door, who now mutters in french when she gets upset. And of course, she has some startling things to say to Ellie about the injured snow goose Bela.
Am I tantalizing you? I hope so. I want to shock your broca, just a little bit, and encourage you to use fresh and unusual language, both in life and in writing.
Who knows what you may sing up?
Sunday, April 06, 2008
Mazatlan Musings
Here I am back from Mazatlan, and it was truly as wonderful as I'd hoped. Iguanas (BIG ONES) on the sidewalks and in the trees, walks on the beach, checking out the flamingos with my grandson Weston, and just relaxing and pondering by the pool as we ate shrimp fajitas. (Mazatlan is the shrimp capital of the world, or so they told us. )
And yes, I did work on Finding Nonna. Okay, so a lot of it was subliminal, but I came back with a good feeling for this rewrite. I am up to Chapter 6, as well as back to the general fast-forward of life, with library workshops, and teaching writing classes.
But besides just the fun of Mazatlan, something else happened that is a blessing for me now in this busy time. To explain what happened, I need to tell you a story that our pastoral coordinator, Kathi Rowley told us at a workshop, just before I headed for Mazatlan:
The CEO of a big California company headed for Africa for a safari vacation. When he arrived, he hired some tribesmen to carry for him on the safari--he had lots of stuff.
The first day the CEO and the tribesmen got up very, very early and traveled very, very far, very, very fast.
The second day, the CEO and the tribesmen got up very, very early and traveled very, very far, very, very fast.
The third day, the same thing--the CEO and the tribesmen got up very, very early and traveled very, very far, very, very fast.
The fourth day, the CEO got up very, very early and found the tribesmen sitting under a big tree, looking out into the distance. They refused to move. "What's going on?" the CEO asked his interpreter. "What do they think they're doing?"
The interpreter looked at the CEO. "They are waiting for their Souls to catch up with their Bodies," he said.
And that's what happened for me in Mazatlan. In that time of reading, and resting, and reflecting, of looking at beautiful sunsets, and basking in the honest delight and wisdom of my three year-old granson, my soul finally caught up with my body. I think that will stand me in good stead these next busy weeks.
But I know this is a blessing that needs to be renewed consciously and often.
As for me, I plan at least twice a day to stop, to reflect, to breathe deeply, and to let my Soul catch up with my Body.
I hope you'll do the same.
Saturday, March 08, 2008
Heading for Mazatlan
Okay, so I know I said I wasn't going on so many trips this year, that I was staying here at home in rainy Seattle and write, write, writing. And I have been, for the last two months, faithfully plugging away on Finding Nonna, like I committed to in this very blog. I'm actually starting to get excited again, researching snow geese, and Alzheimer's Disease (both in the book) and having fun getting to know Ellie and Nonna all over again. I'm up to Chapter six, reworking as I go.
But now I have a chance to go to Mazatlan--warm sunny Mazatlan with my Deb, her husband Eric and our 3 year-old Weston, the brilliant kid I've told you about, who last week, sitting in the tub, saying "Bam, Bang, Crash" as he played, called out to his mom--"Mommy, is 'bam' onomatopoeia?" Oh yes, I need to invite this 3 year-old grandson of mine in to do a class for my writing students!
But in the meantime, I'm heading for Mazatlan with them this Monday, and will be doing most of this week's writing on the beach. I do have a laptop, but often on vacation I just take my notebook and pen--and am surprised at the new and exciting plot twists my stories take when I make this occasional switch in my writing mode.
It's a perfect time for a fresh take, too--I've just gotten to the part of the book where I'm getting a bit tangled. Which way to go? What happens next? How do I get to this beautifully plotted end I already have in mind for this book?
I'm betting a week in the balmy sunshine and tropical breezes of Mazatlan will break open some brand new possibilities for Ellie and Nonna, and Bela the Snow Goose.
So now I'm off to pack--a hat, some sunblock, my writing notebook and pen. I'll keep you posted when I get back, on how it all went. In the meantime, I wish you all a creative vacation of your own, whether it's Hawaii, Mazatlan, or your own backyard deck. Any change of pace or place brings new life to our hungering creative souls.
So this week, create that space and enjoy!
But now I have a chance to go to Mazatlan--warm sunny Mazatlan with my Deb, her husband Eric and our 3 year-old Weston, the brilliant kid I've told you about, who last week, sitting in the tub, saying "Bam, Bang, Crash" as he played, called out to his mom--"Mommy, is 'bam' onomatopoeia?" Oh yes, I need to invite this 3 year-old grandson of mine in to do a class for my writing students!
But in the meantime, I'm heading for Mazatlan with them this Monday, and will be doing most of this week's writing on the beach. I do have a laptop, but often on vacation I just take my notebook and pen--and am surprised at the new and exciting plot twists my stories take when I make this occasional switch in my writing mode.
It's a perfect time for a fresh take, too--I've just gotten to the part of the book where I'm getting a bit tangled. Which way to go? What happens next? How do I get to this beautifully plotted end I already have in mind for this book?
I'm betting a week in the balmy sunshine and tropical breezes of Mazatlan will break open some brand new possibilities for Ellie and Nonna, and Bela the Snow Goose.
So now I'm off to pack--a hat, some sunblock, my writing notebook and pen. I'll keep you posted when I get back, on how it all went. In the meantime, I wish you all a creative vacation of your own, whether it's Hawaii, Mazatlan, or your own backyard deck. Any change of pace or place brings new life to our hungering creative souls.
So this week, create that space and enjoy!
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Springing into Spring
Okay, so I know it's not really spring, but this morning the sun is peeking out, and I saw a yellow crocus, my first one, while out walking. Not only that, I'm eagerly springing back into a rewrite I've put off for a long time, a novel called Finding Nonna. (In one version, it was called Spring Forward, Ellie, which may be why I feel this fresh excitement to work on it, now with a hint of Spring in the air. )
I'm publicly proclaiming to all of you that I will pursue this time, and get this book completed and off to market. It's a book dear to my heart, dealing as it does with a tough topic: Ellie's beloved grandmother has Alzheimer's (early stage) and is coming to live with them.
But the book has humor as well, and a particularly personable Snow Goose.
Okay, that's all I'm going to say about it, remembering the writer's maxim, if we talk about a book too much, we tend not to write it!
So I'm signing off rather quickly this time. If you're looking for me, I'm holed up at the computer, boldly writing away, while outside on the deck two dark-eyed juncoes, who also believe it's Spring, are trilling along to keep me company.
I'm publicly proclaiming to all of you that I will pursue this time, and get this book completed and off to market. It's a book dear to my heart, dealing as it does with a tough topic: Ellie's beloved grandmother has Alzheimer's (early stage) and is coming to live with them.
But the book has humor as well, and a particularly personable Snow Goose.
Okay, that's all I'm going to say about it, remembering the writer's maxim, if we talk about a book too much, we tend not to write it!
So I'm signing off rather quickly this time. If you're looking for me, I'm holed up at the computer, boldly writing away, while outside on the deck two dark-eyed juncoes, who also believe it's Spring, are trilling along to keep me company.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
A January Surprise
Oh wonder! Oh Joy! I have the Starbird Ridge Snowflake in my possession--a gift from my sneaky Sis Nancy and her husband Mike. I so wanted it as a memory of my four years Starbird Ridge fiction series with Pockets Magazine. And once my dear family found out about the Robert's Snow auction to benefit cancer research, they decided to bid on the Starbird Ridge snowflake for me for a belated Christmas gift. There was a lot of bidding going on--thanks to all of you who decided to support this worthy cause.
But my sister persisted, and on January 4th, sitting at their kitchen table in Tucson, I opened the surprise gift and rejoiced. Anni Matsick, my illustrator for the series did such an amazing job of capturing the other Annie (Sammy's youngest sister in the story series.) And Haggis, the family Scottish Terrier! He makes me smile each time I look at Anni's rendering of him. The snowflake will soon be ensconced in a glass case and put in a place of honor here in my office, not only a joyful memory, but also an encouragement as I write, to bring to life my characters for each story, so that readers may have that jolt of recognition when they read, knowing this is a worthy character, real in the best sense of the word.
And now on to the New Year--so many books to be written. I'll be sharing that process with you in its many aspects--from simmering the "soup" of my daily life and skimming off the ideas, to applying writerly glue to the seat of my pants to stay attached to my computer chair each day, to weeding my writing garden as I revise.
There now, I've mixed three metaphors all in one sentence, just to make you all smile.
May this be a year of smiles for all of us.
But my sister persisted, and on January 4th, sitting at their kitchen table in Tucson, I opened the surprise gift and rejoiced. Anni Matsick, my illustrator for the series did such an amazing job of capturing the other Annie (Sammy's youngest sister in the story series.) And Haggis, the family Scottish Terrier! He makes me smile each time I look at Anni's rendering of him. The snowflake will soon be ensconced in a glass case and put in a place of honor here in my office, not only a joyful memory, but also an encouragement as I write, to bring to life my characters for each story, so that readers may have that jolt of recognition when they read, knowing this is a worthy character, real in the best sense of the word.
And now on to the New Year--so many books to be written. I'll be sharing that process with you in its many aspects--from simmering the "soup" of my daily life and skimming off the ideas, to applying writerly glue to the seat of my pants to stay attached to my computer chair each day, to weeding my writing garden as I revise.
There now, I've mixed three metaphors all in one sentence, just to make you all smile.
May this be a year of smiles for all of us.
Friday, December 28, 2007
Four Calling Birds
It's the fourth day of Christmas (yes, I do count the 12 days--that's the only way I get my cards and cookies done during the season.) So today we celebrate four calling birds, and I'm pondering--what are the Four Calling Birds for me for this coming year? In my mind I see a white dove of peace swooping in, and that's my first calling bird--praying for peace, yes, in our world, and also in my own life.
Second calling bird: That cheerful chickadee who stays through the winter, coming to the bird feeder on our deck, not put off at all by the snow. Yes! He makes me smile, and gives me determination to get through the cold winter days.
Third calling bird. Okay, I'm thinking an eagle. We see them often here in the Northwest, majestic, soaring high over Lake Washington, not put off by the wild winds, but riding them. A good image for me to keep in mind when the tumultuous winds of life blow hard.
Fourth calling bird: A robin. A sign of spring--I know it will come: flowers and sunlight and the joyful chirping of that red-breasted beauty who shows up early, thank goodness, in our backyard cherry tree. Hooray for robins!
How about you? What are your Four Calling Birds? It's a fun thing to ponder, this fourth day of Christmas.
Second calling bird: That cheerful chickadee who stays through the winter, coming to the bird feeder on our deck, not put off at all by the snow. Yes! He makes me smile, and gives me determination to get through the cold winter days.
Third calling bird. Okay, I'm thinking an eagle. We see them often here in the Northwest, majestic, soaring high over Lake Washington, not put off by the wild winds, but riding them. A good image for me to keep in mind when the tumultuous winds of life blow hard.
Fourth calling bird: A robin. A sign of spring--I know it will come: flowers and sunlight and the joyful chirping of that red-breasted beauty who shows up early, thank goodness, in our backyard cherry tree. Hooray for robins!
How about you? What are your Four Calling Birds? It's a fun thing to ponder, this fourth day of Christmas.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Home for Christmas
I'm home again! Since I last blogged, I've spent ten days in Maui (with 3 grandkids, nine, three, and one-year) as well as 11 days with my 3 year-old grandson Weston in Santa Fe, New Mexico. And now I arrive home to our Pacific Northwest gray drizzle--but my heart is singing! There are Christmas lights everywhere, I have the carols playing, and I'm so grateful for this place I call Home.
I loved my visits with dear children and grandchildren. I will be blogging insights and memories from those trips for these next several months--from my first snorkeling ever, swimming with the giant turtles near Molokina--to my first ever Las Posadas celebration in historic Santa Fe Plaza this past Sunday.
But now, this rainy Tuesday, exactly one week until Christmas, I rejoice in the quiet moments in my own dear home to reflect on it all.
As a writer, I need this time. My soul hungers for it, like my body sometimes hungers for a bowl of my daughter's homemade soup. It warms me, comforts me, settles my spirit. From these quiet moments to reflect comes all that has meaning to me, both in my life and in my writing. Right now, this past month is still a blur to me, from my last hasty note to all of you when Anni's and my Snowflake finally posted (more about that later) to hastily packing shorts and sunblock for a trip in the Hawaii sunshine, to jumping waves at Wailea Beach with three-year-old Amanda, to making snow towers and throwing snowballs with three-year-old Weston in his Santa Fe front yard two days ago!
Are you confused? Me too! But now as I sequester (even if only for two days) and reflect here at home, I will sort it all out. I journaled, of course, on my trips, and I will be re-reading, praying, thinking, looking for the meaning of it all, pulling out those jewels of Truth that reside in each precious moment and event, and sharing some of it with you, some of it in my stories, all of it more richly in my life.
For this, I am so grateful to be Home for Christmas.
I loved my visits with dear children and grandchildren. I will be blogging insights and memories from those trips for these next several months--from my first snorkeling ever, swimming with the giant turtles near Molokina--to my first ever Las Posadas celebration in historic Santa Fe Plaza this past Sunday.
But now, this rainy Tuesday, exactly one week until Christmas, I rejoice in the quiet moments in my own dear home to reflect on it all.
As a writer, I need this time. My soul hungers for it, like my body sometimes hungers for a bowl of my daughter's homemade soup. It warms me, comforts me, settles my spirit. From these quiet moments to reflect comes all that has meaning to me, both in my life and in my writing. Right now, this past month is still a blur to me, from my last hasty note to all of you when Anni's and my Snowflake finally posted (more about that later) to hastily packing shorts and sunblock for a trip in the Hawaii sunshine, to jumping waves at Wailea Beach with three-year-old Amanda, to making snow towers and throwing snowballs with three-year-old Weston in his Santa Fe front yard two days ago!
Are you confused? Me too! But now as I sequester (even if only for two days) and reflect here at home, I will sort it all out. I journaled, of course, on my trips, and I will be re-reading, praying, thinking, looking for the meaning of it all, pulling out those jewels of Truth that reside in each precious moment and event, and sharing some of it with you, some of it in my stories, all of it more richly in my life.
For this, I am so grateful to be Home for Christmas.
Monday, November 12, 2007
The Snowflake has Arrived!
Yippee and double yippee! Our Snowflake is finally posted on the Robert's Snow website. Anni just emailed to tell me and we are both thrilled that it is finally up. If you'd like to take a look, go to www.robertssnow.com, click on View 2007 Snowflakes, click on Auction 1, November 19-23, and scan down. Anni's snowflake, "Snow at Starbird Ridge" is second from the bottom. Isn't it beautiful? Actually you can see it in the blog entry just below, but you 'll need to go to the Robert's Snow website for bidding which starts a week from today, November 19th. What a wonderful way to make life better for so many--bid on a snowflake, help fund cancer research that will save lives--and get a lovely Christmas gift for someone in the process!
We'll update you again after the auction. Just a few more days and I am off to Hawaii with my daughter and their family, including three kids (ages one, three, and nine--Grandma will come back with lots of story ideas!) Hopefully the time will include some lounging in the sun as well. I'm smiling already, thinking of those balmy Hawaiian breezes and blue skies.
Blessings to you all this Thanksgiving week. There is much to be thankful for. I'm going to make a list and post it right here above my computer--how about you?
We'll update you again after the auction. Just a few more days and I am off to Hawaii with my daughter and their family, including three kids (ages one, three, and nine--Grandma will come back with lots of story ideas!) Hopefully the time will include some lounging in the sun as well. I'm smiling already, thinking of those balmy Hawaiian breezes and blue skies.
Blessings to you all this Thanksgiving week. There is much to be thankful for. I'm going to make a list and post it right here above my computer--how about you?
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
The Snowflake is Coming! The Snowflake is Coming!
This is a quick note to let all you faithful readers who have been emailing Anni and me that you are indeed right: Our Snowflake is not yet available to view on the Robert's Snow website. Yes, it is scheduled to be in the first auction, as described in our Blog Interview below, and yes, we are promised it will be posted any day now! We'll exuberantly notify you right here, as soon as that happens.
In the meantime, keep looking, and enjoy all the other wonderful Snowflakes that are posted on that amazing website.
We'll all watch together for the rest of the Snow(flake) fall!
In the meantime, keep looking, and enjoy all the other wonderful Snowflakes that are posted on that amazing website.
We'll all watch together for the rest of the Snow(flake) fall!
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Robert's Snow!
This blog is a bit longer than usual but with good reason! Something wonderful is happening all over the United States now through December 7, and I have the joy of being part of it, thanks to Anni Matsick, my illustrator for our Starbird Ridge story series that has been running in Pockets Magazine (www.pockets.org) for the past two years.
In our great excitement at being part of this event, Anni and I decided to do an interview to post here on my blog. Here it is below, along with a picture of Anni Matsick and the snowflake she has designed for the auction. I’m asking the questions, and Anni is answering.
Why did you choose Annie for the snowflake?
Annie is a charming, spirited little character who would enjoy a good snowfall so she popped into my mind instantly when I was thinking of possibilities. I’m into illustrating the third year of the series so I know her well and I particularly enjoy the episodes where she appears. Especially if she is wearing her red cowboy boots or has done her own pigtails. :)
Yes, the ones where you made me work hard researching things mentioned in the story! I had to find visual references for bear bells, flame flowers, an Ethiopian cocoa pot, and many more things that figured in the plots. That’s how you and I got to know each other, through the email exchanges. Chris Schechner (Pockets art director) and I always laugh about having to contact Peggy again when we are stumped. We always agree that’s what makes your stories so special, introducing new, interesting things to your readers.
I have to admit, Anni—I do get a kick out of throwing in those little unusual details, and I smile when I see you figuring out ways to picture those in the series. I’m wondering though--Do you ever get tired of showing the same characters?
People asked me that when I did Goofus and Gallant for Highlights Magazine over a nine year period. The characters seem very real to me after a while so it becomes easier to portray their postures and emotions. There are quite a few characters in Starbird Ridge so enough variety exists to keep me interested.
As a closet artist/illustrator myself, I’m curious. What medium did you use? Could you describe your process for us?
I had to buy a new set of acrylics since I haven’t used them since college. My work for publishing is in watercolor. I practiced a bit on a piece of gessoed cardboard. The snowflake has two layers of gesso which I sanded for a nice, smooth surface. My composition was worked out in a sketch on tracing paper in reverse, so that when I rubbed it the pencil lines transferred to the snowflake surface. I began with light washes of color, diluting the acrylic paint with water, to lay in the palette. After that, I used the paint full strength to develop the image in small brush strokes. The facial expression is always the first thing to establish, then I work around it. I kind of loosened up on Haggis, with the snow on his coat.
Once the paintings dried I applied quite a few light coats of spray varnish to seal the image and create an even surface that I think enhances the work.
And I know readers may want to know this as well—could you tell us your background and professional experience?
My degree in painting from Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh gave me a strong foundation in drawing and a valuable aesthetic sense. I’ve worked for close to twenty years in children’s illustration.
Looking at the snowflake you designed, and seeing how natural Annie and Haggis look on this snowy day, I have to ask you--Do you live in a place where it snows?
My home is in a college town in central Pennsylvania so I am very familiar with snowy winters! Snow has been lucky for me, since I acquired my reps Cornell & McCarthy when they saw an image depicting children making snow angels in an ad directory. It was one of my first covers for Pockets, which has been a great association over the years.
I recall the debut issue of Starbird Ridge had a snow scene on the cover done by you!
Yes, and the winning bidder will get a signed copy as a bonus.
Where can we see more of your work online?
Samples are on my reps’ website and at Picturebook online:
I’m excited about participating too, Peggy, and having two charming characters to make the snowflake special. It will be fun to watch the bidding!
And a final note to all of you: Remember, you can preview the snowflakes online (and if you’d like, place a bid) by going to www.robertssnow.com . Anni’s snowflake will be in Auction One, November 19-23.
The master calendar for other snowflake illustrator features can be found at: http://blaine.org/sevenimpossiblethings/?page_id=935
Click on any of the artists' names on the list at bottom to go to each blog.
And if you'd like to go to my (Peggy's) website to see what else I've been up to recently, come on over, at www.peggyking.com
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Walking in the Rain
The last day of September--how did that happen? It's pouring rain here in Seattle--so nicely seasonal, I have to smile. My grandson Jordan (age 9) and I just walked down our hill and back up with umbrellas and lots of good cheer. I'm guessing not too many folks would be wildly excited about an hour-long steep hike at 9 AM on a rainy Sunday morning, even if the reward was breakfast at McDonald's. (or maybe, especially not if!)
But if you're nine, and you're full of Sunday morning energy, and you love McDonald's Sausage McMuffin, and if you're celebrating your birthday with your Grandma who is almost as joyful as you are, well then, that gives a whole new light to it.
So Jordan and I discovered together the great satisfaction of feeling cold rain water in our shoes as we walked not around, but in the little streams coursing down our hill. We laughed together as our umbrellas turned inside out in the wind. We made silly rhymes as cars splashed us in their hurry to get to where they were going.
And we plunked ourselves down, warm and cozy at McDonald's, right at the foot of our hill, and enjoyed our well-earned, not-so-healthy breakfast. After all, on birthdays, especially cold and drizzly ones, we get to do things like that.
As the rainy days of fall and winter set in, it's a good thing to remember--how many unexpected joys can we find, if we just keep that nine year-old kid outlook?
I plan to remember this as I hunker down at the computer these next few gray and rainy months to write. But of course, I'll walk in the rain as well. You never know what new adventure might be waiting out there!
I'll keep you posted!
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Stretching Our Horizons
I'm writing this week about an Inuit girl, Buniq, stepsister of Sammy in my Starbird Ridge series. I've discovered a wonderful word: silatujuq. It's the Inuit word for one who is wise, and it translates literally, Endowed with a Large Sky.
Isn't that great? I think of a visit we made to Montana a few years ago, and remember how awesome it was, that Big Sky stretching as far as I could see. Here in the Northwest, we have evergreen trees poking up into the sky everywhere, and while I love living in a forest land, it does make it hard to see the unbroken sky. The other night I went out on our deck at 4 AM to view the eclipse. Though the night was clear, my view of the moon was blocked by the tall evergreens in our back yard. In shoes and pajamas, I wandered our neighborhood until I found enough open space to view the orange-shadowed moon.
So it is in my writing sometimes: I see little pieces of things, get part of the picture. It takes awhile for that first flash of a story to develop into a cohesive plot, for those glimmers of a shadowy person to take on the solid shape of a fully formed and unique character in my story.
And in the process, I need to do a lot of thinking, meditating, walking, moodling--getting to that place where I have an unbroken view of this story. For it's not just the plot and characters I need to see clearly, it's that inner life, the insight and understanding that comes to me as I'm writing, something I can't always put into words, but which is the true heart of the story. It's what gives me (and hopefully the reader) a little chill, a sense deep inside that here is truth, here is meaning, here is something to nourish and remember, be it Miles freeing the true victim from the Shriker in Janet Lee Carey's The Beast of Noor, or Stephen finding the only way possible to save his sister Maria in Helen Szablya's and my book, The Fall of the Red Star.
This week, as I come to see the bigger picture for Buniq and Sammy, and perhaps the bigger picture for this whole Starbird Ridge series, I will take time to journal, to ponder, to pray, to walk--to get to that place where I can see more clearly.
May all of us this week, in whatever we encounter, find a place to stretch our horizons, to discover that we are indeed, silatujuq, Endowed with a Large Sky.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Dreams In the Night
This whole thing of finding ideas for our stories can be a challenge. There are ideas everywhere, of course, but which ones will have staying power? Which ones will hook into our hearts in a way that we'll have the energy to finish that story we started with such eagerness. In my next few blogs I'll share some things that work for me.
Number one thing (for me) is the idea HAS to be a sound from my heart, like the title of this blog. That is, it has to tie in emotionally for me in some strong way. That's why I like to pay attention to my dreams. Yes, I mean my real dreams, the ones that come in the night as I'm sleeping.
But how to do that? And how does it help? Lots of folks say they can't remember their dreams, and others don't want to. What I've found is that I CAN remember at least some of my dreams, with a simple prompt which I'll share in a moment. And I've also found, if I write down, "journal" my dreams right away in the morning, I often find a spark of a story in that seemingly jumbled dream made of of lots of images from my previous day.
Here's how it works: I tell myself, just before I fall asleep, "Tonight I'm going to remember my dreams." Then I go to sleep. As soon as I wake in the morning, before getting out of bed, I think, "What did I dream?" After a night or two of doing this, I begin to remember at least tattered shreds of my dreams, and I write these down right away in my journal. Oftentimes, even writing them down, little "Aha!" moments come to me, and I'll see a meaning I didn't before--something I'm struggling with clarifies, or an insight I didn't have before comes to me. Some of these help me in my life, some of them come into my stories. I think I've shared before in another blog, that the ideas that work for me in creating story are almost always two ideas coming together, creating a spark that runs right up the back of my neck, sometimes giving me a literal chill. Oftentimes one of the ideas will be something that is troubling me, or that I'm struggling with, and that is the piece that often surfaces as I'm writing down my dream. When that piece comes together with another idea--could be a story I'm working on, or something one of my grandkids does, or something I read about in the paper--ZING! I'll feel that little tingle up my neck, and I know I've got an idea that's got staying power.
Example: An actual dream I had a while back. I was climbing a grassy hill, trying to get to a little stone house at the top. Behind me was a roar, and I realized a monster was heading up the hill behind me. I ran, trying to reach the top of the hill, the little stone house, and safety. But you know how it is, running in a dream--slow going. The monster was gaining, though I was running as fast as I could. I made it though, to the stone cottage, out of breath, the monster hot on my heels, and I turned the door knob, struggling to open the door.
It was locked.
The Monster was upon me, and I couldn't get into that house, that place of safety.
I stood there, hopeless, helpless, waiting to be destroyed by this huge furry monster that was breathing over my shoulder. Then, looking like one of the monsters in Maurice Sendak's book, this giant being reached around me, unlocked the door, and gently let me in.
Wow.
I wrote down the dream, knowing even as I wrote it, the clear meaning: The very thing I fear the most will be the thing that lets me into the place where I most want to be.
What a profound truth. I've thought about this dream many times, in my own life, and in the life of my characters in my stories. At the time, in the book I was working on, SAFE AT HOME my main character Tony had to face the scary monster of his Mom's alcoholism. He spent a good part of the book determined not to look back over his shoulder and see that monster. But eventually he got brave enough and looked.
In the book I'm working on now, TWO MOON JOURNEY, Simu-quah has to face her own anger at the Red-Bearded Soldier who has been so cruel to her father. She avoids that for a long time, but of course in the climax chapter, she has to come face to face with her own anger and decide what to do about it. In this case Forgiveness opens the door and lets her into that place where she needs to go.
I've journaled lots of dreams over the years--and insights from those dreams have powered my stories in all kinds of ways, from specfic images or characters, to plot events, to sharp awareness of story theme.
Starting tonight, I challenge you to dream along with me, and write it all down in the morning.
Who knows what doors you'll unlock?
Number one thing (for me) is the idea HAS to be a sound from my heart, like the title of this blog. That is, it has to tie in emotionally for me in some strong way. That's why I like to pay attention to my dreams. Yes, I mean my real dreams, the ones that come in the night as I'm sleeping.
But how to do that? And how does it help? Lots of folks say they can't remember their dreams, and others don't want to. What I've found is that I CAN remember at least some of my dreams, with a simple prompt which I'll share in a moment. And I've also found, if I write down, "journal" my dreams right away in the morning, I often find a spark of a story in that seemingly jumbled dream made of of lots of images from my previous day.
Here's how it works: I tell myself, just before I fall asleep, "Tonight I'm going to remember my dreams." Then I go to sleep. As soon as I wake in the morning, before getting out of bed, I think, "What did I dream?" After a night or two of doing this, I begin to remember at least tattered shreds of my dreams, and I write these down right away in my journal. Oftentimes, even writing them down, little "Aha!" moments come to me, and I'll see a meaning I didn't before--something I'm struggling with clarifies, or an insight I didn't have before comes to me. Some of these help me in my life, some of them come into my stories. I think I've shared before in another blog, that the ideas that work for me in creating story are almost always two ideas coming together, creating a spark that runs right up the back of my neck, sometimes giving me a literal chill. Oftentimes one of the ideas will be something that is troubling me, or that I'm struggling with, and that is the piece that often surfaces as I'm writing down my dream. When that piece comes together with another idea--could be a story I'm working on, or something one of my grandkids does, or something I read about in the paper--ZING! I'll feel that little tingle up my neck, and I know I've got an idea that's got staying power.
Example: An actual dream I had a while back. I was climbing a grassy hill, trying to get to a little stone house at the top. Behind me was a roar, and I realized a monster was heading up the hill behind me. I ran, trying to reach the top of the hill, the little stone house, and safety. But you know how it is, running in a dream--slow going. The monster was gaining, though I was running as fast as I could. I made it though, to the stone cottage, out of breath, the monster hot on my heels, and I turned the door knob, struggling to open the door.
It was locked.
The Monster was upon me, and I couldn't get into that house, that place of safety.
I stood there, hopeless, helpless, waiting to be destroyed by this huge furry monster that was breathing over my shoulder. Then, looking like one of the monsters in Maurice Sendak's book, this giant being reached around me, unlocked the door, and gently let me in.
Wow.
I wrote down the dream, knowing even as I wrote it, the clear meaning: The very thing I fear the most will be the thing that lets me into the place where I most want to be.
What a profound truth. I've thought about this dream many times, in my own life, and in the life of my characters in my stories. At the time, in the book I was working on, SAFE AT HOME my main character Tony had to face the scary monster of his Mom's alcoholism. He spent a good part of the book determined not to look back over his shoulder and see that monster. But eventually he got brave enough and looked.
In the book I'm working on now, TWO MOON JOURNEY, Simu-quah has to face her own anger at the Red-Bearded Soldier who has been so cruel to her father. She avoids that for a long time, but of course in the climax chapter, she has to come face to face with her own anger and decide what to do about it. In this case Forgiveness opens the door and lets her into that place where she needs to go.
I've journaled lots of dreams over the years--and insights from those dreams have powered my stories in all kinds of ways, from specfic images or characters, to plot events, to sharp awareness of story theme.
Starting tonight, I challenge you to dream along with me, and write it all down in the morning.
Who knows what doors you'll unlock?
Friday, July 27, 2007
Down in the Valley
Yesterday, we made a family trip to Rattlesnake Lake. The crew wanted to hike to the top of Rattlesnake Ledge. Part of me wanted to get to the top too, even though that sheer cliff drop at the top made my hands clammy to look at it. As it turned out, I wound up hiking just a little way up, then returning down with my little grandson Weston, whom I've written about before. The two of us had a lovely time on our return trip, Weston taking time to hug a tree (he was so delighted to find one slender enough to wrap his arms and really hug), and saying hi to every hiker, old and young, who passed us on their way up or down.
Down in the valley, we found a prime spot in the grass by the lake and used our binoculars to watch his two uncles, who made it all the way to the top of the mountain, and who were perched out on the very edge (yikes!) waving to us.
It was a different perspective down in the valley. Through Weston's eyes it was wonderful, seeing those on the mountain top and getting excited about them, but also thoroughly enjoying every thing around us, down in the valley. We pretended to be helicopter passengers on a big log, with Weston piloting us. We found some great rocks to pick up, rolled in the grass, and laughed as the wind off the lake tickled our faces. Once more it's a lesson for me, both in writing and in life. It's great to be on the mountaintop, but most of us spend a whole lot of time down in the valleys. Why waste energy wishing we were on the mountaintop? Wave to those who are there at the moment, cheer them on--and pay attention to all the wonders in this part of the valley we're in. Right now my writing valley includes some delightful short stories for Pockets, some brainstorming for my next writing project, dinking around with my almost ready to market novel, and tons of everyday experience "research" as I enjoy all my family members coming through for visits here in the lovely Northwest.
And come to think of it, that is the valley of my life right now, and it's a pretty wonderful place to be. It's blessing to have kids and grandkids and friends all around me through this summertime, to do the ordinary things together. I'll have the Mountain Top experiences again, I know. For now, there's a lot of joy right here in the valley.
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