Your Story Sanctuary
Sometimes I get into such a good writing rhythm. Day after day, I go to my writing desk, the words and pages flow, and I get that draft done. Oh, the good old days. In more recent days, I’ve felt like two of the middle Von Trapp sisters in the Sound of Music, gracefully running away from my work in progress. I flit. I float. I fleetly flee. I fly.
by guest contributor, Veronica Martin* In Turkey there is a hotel on the edge of summer, on the edge of the sea, that seems to hold its nostalgia as if it is holding its breath. The Kismet’s walls are covered in black and white photographs of former clients – royalty, movie stars, politicians, writers –, a parrot wheezes in the corner and, if you have the chance to stay there
by guest contributor, Jane Pellicciotto* You wouldn’t think you could be nostalgic for something you’ve never experienced. But oh, to have been an early human, unshackled from having to cover yourself up, free to prance around the savannah in your birthday suit without so much as a titter from your fellow homo erectus. Speaking of birthday suits, the nakedness of babyhood is about as close to early human freedom from
by guest contributor Gloria Harrison* There’s this thing that happens when I listen to “Sweet Home Alabama” by Lynyrd Skynyrd. As soon as I hear Ed King’s simple, plunking opening notes – before Ronnie Van Zant even says, “turn it up” – I’m transported to another time and place. A place of shoeless little kids and dirt-packed back country gravel roads and the smell of alfalfa and cow manure all
by guest contributor, Arin Black* I’m no stranger to fauxstalgia. Being Finnish, Irish and French, a modicum of daily ennui is practically a genetic requirement. I often find myself longing for a place I have never been. Unlike those who yearn for college years or a long-ago vacation, I long for a place I simply refer to as home. In saying this, I mean neither the place where I was
Oh, longing. One of my favorite pastimes. I love wanting chocolate mousse almost as much as eating chocolate mousse. Oh, mousse. Okay, before I get mired in mousse… Early in May, I wondered via a Facebook post if I could be nostalgic for something that had never been, something I hadn’t experienced. Others jumped into the conversation, and I got lots of affirmation that yes, that was possible. From my
*URQ=Upending Revision Question; something to help you return to your story with fresh perspective and energy to revise This week’s URQ is sponsored by Inspector Javert. And it’s about making sure all of the characters in your story are pulling their weight, and are, in fact, in the right story. Thank you so much for reading. You might notice that I don’t have a space for comments, but I’m certainly
So what I’m beginning today is a regular feature for all of you hard-working, big-dreaming, and ridiculously good-looking writers out there. And it doesn’t have a name. I was going to call it KARQ: Your Kick-Ass Revision Question of the week. And although I like the way KARQ sounds and how it suggests I might be really smart about physics after all, I’m not loving the whole ass-kicking thing at
The way back to lightheartedness is up. If down is a heavy sinking, getting stuck in quicksand muck, then up is the way to joy. Up, up, out of the dark murk of the ocean floor, where no one can see anything unless they’re a jaguar shark. Thank you so much for reading. You might notice that I don’t have a space for comments, but I’m certainly open to conversation
Today I’m feeling a bit like a sturgeon–this sturgeon in particular–and wishing I had a little more Weird Al kind of vibe to make it more fun. Thank you so much for reading. You might notice that I don’t have a space for comments, but I’m certainly open to conversation about what’s written here. If you’re so inspired, feel free to start a conversation with me via the contact form
