The Inner/Outer Writing Paradox (Or, From an Old Oak Desk in New England)

Writers write. Right? Author Michael S. Fedison nails the paradoxical reality that fuels many of us…

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Where is your special place, the place where you block out the clutter and noise and distractions, and let your creative energy flow?

Mine is an old oak desk that my father used to use when he was a student in school, decades ago.  It’s solid, heavy, and not designed for the accoutrements of 21st-century digital technology.  But it’s my little oasis to think and dream and create.

oasis

My father actually passed the desk on to me while I was still living with my parents, a high school student with my eyes peeled toward the future, the promise of ten thousand tomorrows, of horizons to be explored and aspirations realized.  We are old friends, my desk and I.  The oak is scarred in spots, dented in others, victim to the long passage of time and the elements.  But the imperfections merely serve to make it more approachable, more real, more

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ONCE THE LIGHT IS OUT

jazzface
I miss you already.

Once the light is out and the room is silent,
I will miss you even more.

“Remember the time…” fills the house already.

Once the light is out and the house is silent
I will remember you even more…

 

Like how you taught me to pause, take a deep breath, and jump to find my joy Continue reading

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A CHALLENGING TRANSITION

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Once upon a time, not so very long ago, my children’s feet fit into the palm of their father’s hand – but only

 

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AN ICON SPEAKS

statue-of-liberty-690574_640The sky grows dark. Thunder heralds the approaching storm. The lamplight flickers. A passing dove stops to rest on the icon’s shoulder.

“Tell me, friend.” The great lady creaks in the wind. “What’s the news from the outside world?”

 

The symbol of peace pushes off from the knotted fold in the grand dame’s tarnished tunic and fights the gathering gale so that he may perch on her ear. “Given the turn in the weather, it has been suggested that a cloak be stitched for you.”

“Now? But I’ve withstood greater storms than this for nearly thirteen decades. That’s not to say that a wrap would certainly keep my shoulders warm. And what of my standing invitation?

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“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me. I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

A cloak of such great length will Continue reading

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APRÈS HALLOWEEN

halloween bremer musikantenAnticipation builds when a decorate-able holiday approaches. Eggs are hung from trees, reindeer are bolted to roofs, carved jack-o-lanterns are set at the door. The decor reminds our salivary glands of  the marshmallow Peeps, chocolate-filled gold coins, and spiced pumpkin pie to come. So, we decorate to the nines. We cook for days, then stuff our bellies full.

But before the football game’s over, it’s time to clean up and undeck-the-halls. The dried up boughs of holly get tossed, the spent candles are pitched, and the turkey carcass is made into soup. After Halloween, the skeleton is stuffed back into the closet – but, as in my case, only once he’s had the last word:

“Gather your vampires, witches, and bats,
Spiders, ghosties, and arch-backed black cats
Put them together with the goblins and ghouls,
Then load them up high on the backs of pack mules.
Or store them in boxes way up in your attic!”
The skeleton in my closet was downright emphatic. Continue reading

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A PETTY THIEVES’ TALE

12183950_1057108614324041_1944270533573573675_oI can’t think of a better TBT to share with you on this National Donut Day than an earlier tribute to two old donut lovin’ dawgs. Enjoy. It’s fat-free.

Donna Gwinnell Lambo-Weidner's avatarDonna Gwinnell Lambo-Weidner

photo 2Sir Francis Bacon once said, “Opportunity makes a thief.” Indeed, it does. For what do you think happens when you leave a box full of donuts untended in a room with two Labrador Retrievers?

Now, when I say a box full, I mean a heap – a complete dozen. I’m talkin’ three Bavarian Kremes, two chocolate glazed, four jelly, an apple crumb and two powdered.

If you’re thinking the obvious answer is a couple of bloated (w)itches with a ‘B’  or  puddled boat loads of barf on the living room rug well, no, not this time. Although, having read some of our pooches’ previous antics, I can understand why you’d think that.

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ONE HECK OF A MO

Here a Mo, there a Mo,
Everywhere a Mo, Mo.
If you write or are thinking of writing, November’s got the MO
that will invite the muse and ignite inspiration.
First, the mother of MOs.
The MO that started it all Continue reading

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A HALLOWEENSIE TREAT

IMG_1872‘Tis the eve of All Hallows. Gus embarks on a jaunt
to The Lodge at Devil’s Canyon, his Mummy’s favorite haunt.

Flying in the dark, astride his sister’s broom,
the wee ghoul soars in his snowman costume.

Until *putt-putt-poot* the broom starts to roll—
The gas tank is empty!
He’s outta control—

Zigging past witches, pumpkins, and bats,
Zagging o’er graveyards complete with black cats…

But then – an idea – and Continue reading

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(EXTRA)ORDINARY

When a fortune cookie

Fortune Cookie

and a photo challenge cross paths, the results can be extraordinary,
like
the sites of San Francisco made from 100,000 toothpicks

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MY HAPPY PLACE

When the craziness of the outer world invades my inner peace, a visit to a nearby happy place and a deep breath restores the calm:

HappyPlace2 Continue reading

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