I read a book on creativity a while back, a borrowed one, unfortunately, or I would be able to remember who said that an artist/writer needed to “go for a long walk, and every day, and alone.”
For me, that’s it: how I prime my pump. I can’t go with anyone, not even my dogs. I have to go every day, or I lose the momentum of my imagining.

Yesterday and today, the walk resulted in a story, called “The Outside Music,” which I very much like, even in its rough first draft state. I haven’t read anything exactly like it, and I made it to fit Texas and the American South, so it may be “marketable.” Sigh. I hate thinking of the market when I’m writing, it seems so much like preparing your toddler for a rigged beauty pageant.

But there’s enough saleswoman left in me to know it’s necessary.

Maybe someday it won’t be that way. Pleasant dreams!

(Oh! I did have an idea for an MG or chapter book today about a kid magician who keeps doing tricks that go very wrong and very right! He cuts his brother in half, and can’t get him back together, etc. I think I’ll play with it this weekend. My oldest son has more than enough magic books and tricks for research!)

Here’s a teaser from today’s story, the first few lines — poetic, though lacking references to local flora/fauna:

Once there was a boy who could do something very unusual —
He could be still. Completely still.
And when he was perfectly still, he could listen.
And when he listened, he could hear the music of the Outside.

Happy Monday!

You know there’s nothing like a really long really meandering sermon to get the creative neurons firing! I had an idea yesterday — yes, during the sermon –for another PB. I wrote the first draft this morning. I don’t know what the Spirit is doing, but recently I’ve been writing this lyrical, poetic stuff, in between jags of snarky middle-grade humor — and I LOVE IT!

Although I won’t post the entire manuscripts here, I thought I would give you a teaser. Email me if you would like to see the full text.

My favorite line from The Treasure Nest (today’s draft):

She built it out of twigs and ribbons, peacock feathers and candy wrappers,
buttons from her favorite winter coat, and gleaming silver tape.

My favorite line from Shadow Dance:

“I remember dancing the salsa in a crowd on the streets of San Juan, my arms like streamers before me, my legs so long they stretched into the ocean.
But that is not the tango.”

From “Once Upon A Duhhhh”:

But the next night was the same. His Mom tried to tell one of his favorites, the story about Drew and the Amazing Albatross from Alba, but all that came out was “the Amazing Duhhhhhh.”

And now back to your regularly scheduled programming… and revisions for me (oh, joy).

Peace!

What a marvelous, strange day! I had the great opportunity to hear Jeannette Walls, the author of
The Glass Castle (now moved to number one on my nightstand list, right after I finish Elizabeth Bunce’s A Curse Dark As Gold) speak at a Caritas fundraiser in Austin. My husband Dave was the official photographer, and I volunteered as well. They put me in with the group in charge of selling the artwork done by a support group of formerly homeless women. Of course, I don’t think they knew I did this professionally for years (selling art glass across Texas and Louisiana when I was young and sales rep material)! I have to say, we sold a lot. One piece to me! It’s painted on a skinny cabinet door, very cool. Found art.
Now to the stuttering. For the first time in… ever… I had an idea come together for a story that made me stop, break into a cold sweat, and think “Can I do this?”
I mean, really. I was freaking out, wondering if I could make this fabulous idea rest on the page, retaining its inital impulse and shape.
I have the first draft done. I don’t know if I captured it all, but I tried.
And, for the first time in… ever… it’s not humorous. It’s a picture book where all the main characters are shadows, at night, when they are free to relax and play. It combines my love for Latin dancing with my love for grandmothers. Gosh. I hope I can refine it, and find a home for it someday.