So I Write

 So I Write

I’ve always loved this quote by Stephen King: If God gives you something to do, why in the world wouldn’t you do it? So I write. 

Does Stephen King think we need yet another book in the world? I guess he does because he’s still cranking out dozens of them.  Does anyone need a book, poem or work of art from me? I don’t think so, but I do have a strong sense that God gave me these things to do. So I write. I love the writing and hate what comes afterwards—the months of sending out queries, the rejections, being ignored, feeling like I had wasted my time—every writer knows this feeling—except Stephen King, of course. 

Whenever something I’ve written is published I think of my grandmother. She raised six children, lost much during the depression, and became a widow in her sixties. I remember her dwelling alone in a small apartment above a hardware store across the Ohio River from a steel mill. She wrote novels and some poems. I relate to the need to create and accomplish something once your children are raised and you finally have the time. She dreamed of being published but her dream was never fulfilled and so sometimes I feel like I’m living her dream or at least doing it in her honor.

Long after she was gone all of her handwritten manuscripts were found in a relative’s basement. She was so short on money that the words were crammed on every page from top to bottom, front and back, to save paper. I set about sifting through the thousands of pages, some out of order or missing, and put together six complete novels and some pieces of others. They were full of good people struggling through life, just as she had. There were also letters from “vanity presses” expecting large amounts of money in exchange for publishing her work, which was an impossibility for her. I put them in 3-ring binders, and after re-reading them, I presented them to my mom. So much for the dilemma of what to do with them—until my mom died and I was left to clean out her home of sixty years. 

At that point I laid them out at a family reunion and offered them to my cousins. They took them all but it made me think about all the unread copies of my three novels and three poetry books (so far) that are languishing in my house. What to do with them? Will one of my children have to throw them out at some point or should I make a bonfire in the backyard and do that now? Because, you see, even though my books are published they are not in demand. Yes, I feel the sense of accomplishment and I am proud of all of them, but all I ever wanted was for them to be read—maybe by more than my family and friends, too. 

I’m facing the same dilemma with my mother’s art. She was prolific and spent over forty years creating beautiful and unique works. She entered many shows and won awards but she never made much effort to sell her work. Everyone in the family chose pieces when she died and many are being displayed, but, you guessed it, the rest are all stored in my house and in my sibling’s houses and none of us know what to do with them. Some of the work was experimental, class work, or unfinished, but can I just throw them in the trash? Not yet. But neither do I want my own children to have to do it. (I like to paint also, but I hesitate to put another piece of unwanted art out into the world at this point.)

I acknowledge that I have a deep need for self-expression—sometimes I envy people who do not—so I know I will continue to create. As infuriating as the internet and social media can be, the upside is that there are multiple ways to publish and share all types of creative work. This is something my grandmother could have never imagined. 

During this terrible year of a world-wide pandemic those in the arts have had to be especially creative to get their gifts out into the world. It seems like everyone is vying for attention for what they do to stay relevant and unforgotten. I am thankful for all that is available to me. Writers can self-publish now without stigma and, if they’re good at promotion, they can do quite well. Personally, I stink at self-promotion, but I will do the best I can for this new book and if God gives me another one—-I’ll probably have to write that one, too. Oh well.

The Musings of an Author in Search of a Publisher

 April 24, 2020

Talking to myself about publishing my third novel, which is biographical fiction:

As of this date I have been rejected and/or ignored by 124 agents and/or publishers. They have each been well-researched ahead of time to assure that historical fiction was of interest to them. I have received a number of positive responses and comments, and asked to send more chapters, or the whole manuscript quite a few times, but no one, ultimately, accepted my book. (Meanwhile someone else has published a book about my main character after her story has been ignored for 100 years. Grrrrr. )

At the point when I began sending it out to very small publishers I realized they could not do much more for my book than I could do myself. They would only put it on their website and on Amazon.

I spent 6 months researching and writing the book, had it professionally edited, and have spent over a year submitting it. It is such a worthwhile and timely story, and biographical fiction has been popular for several years. 

Recently, I began researching self-publishers. Self-publishing is much more widely accepted than it was when I self-published my other two novels. It is a legitimate way for authors to be read, and even make money, especially on Amazon, whether paperback or ebook. It is cheap and relatively easy to self-publish on Amazon, although it is not globally distributed otherwise. Amazon has a number of ways to promote books, especially ebooks, that I could not do myself.  I stink at self-promotion, so this is a plus.

Am I ready? Getting this book out has been hanging over my head for over a year. I’m ready to move on to something else. Rejections, although expected, get old. I am not a trained fiction writer. I did not intend to ever write fiction again, but this story was too good to pass up. 

Questions: 

Am I okay with only my kind-hearted friends and acquaintances reading my book as with my other ones? (If not, I will obsessively ask myself what it was all for?) 

Did I love writing it? Yes. 

Am I proud of it? Yes. 

Do I want it to sit in a 3-ring binder on my shelf forever? No.  

What do I have to lose?

APRIL 25 - One day later

In counting the number of agents/publishers I had contacted I noticed the name of someone who had expressed interest but never got back to me ––Jared Bendis of Atbosh Media in Cleveland.  I thought, What the Heck, and emailed him one more time. He responded and asked for the synopsis. I felt a twinge of hope but he had responded twice before and let the communication die.  He emailed later and asked when we could chat! I sent my number and told my husband I didn’t think he’d call–––but he did that same evening.

We talked for a half hour and he explained his whole process, the contract agreement and what he could do with the book. He said he would send me the contract that night if I agreed. What? Of course!  Then the email didn’t come that night. ( But it did show up the next day. I’m pretty sure he’s a night person because it was sent in the wee hours of the morning. 

It’s been two weeks since then. We’ve exchanged a couple emails and he says he’s putting the mock-up together but he doesn’t commit to a timeline so I must be patient.  Lou took some outdoor photos of me for the head shot and it is on his website. I signed a contract so I know it will happen eventually.  I thought this time of quarantine would be perfect for working on marketing and getting the book out there etc. We’ll see. 

It seems like one more surreal and unbelievable occurrence right now, just like the rest of life. But I am thankful, relieved and proud. 

Being a Writer

All the Light We Cannot See

This is the book I have been waiting for: All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr.  If you are a reader you wait for that book that you don't want to put down but you also do not want to end. It's rare.

I savored this book, stretched it out as long as I could.  When I heard it was set during WWII I was not excited. I had vowed not to read anymore novels set during the war or of slavery. While they are mostly all wonderful it just felt like enough was enough - but this one is different.

First, the writing is exquisite. Every page has at least one beautiful sentence that you want to write down, underline, keep in your heart. There is not a single cliche in the 530 pages - quite a feat for a writer. (I love long books too).  I'm sure Doerr spent years in research, but you never feel like you are supposed to be learning something historic. You are caught up in the experience of these two young people.

Marie-Laure is the girl at the heart of the story. Some of the best writing is seeing the world through the perceptions of this blind girl:

Music spirals out of the radios, and it is splendid to drowse on the davenport, to be warm and fed, to feel the sentences hoist her up and carry her somewhere else.

Marie-Laure sits at the square table, a plate of cookies in front of her, and imagines the old woman with the veiny hands and milky eyes and oversize ears. From the kitchen window comes the wit wit wit of a barn swallow, footfalls on ramparts, halyards clinking against masts, hinges and chains creaking in the harbor. Ghosts. Germans. Snails.

You know from reviews that it is the story of two young lives are interwoven at some point, but it happens in an unexpected way.

There are so many awful books that make it to the fiction best seller list that it was a relief to find one that actually belongs there.

Living in the Present and Compulsive Journal Writing

This is a photo of a couple decades of personal journals and all the pages I've deleted from them . (Actually this is the second go-round).
After a year of spiritual searching this is my attempt to live in the present moment and accept that the past no longer exists.

We all know that the past is gone, but sometimes our minds and hearts do not accept this fact.  I ripped out, shredded or whited out almost half of every journal because they were filled with angst, depression, sadness, regrets and embarrassing entries. I have had a compulsive need to write every emotion and thought in hopes of understanding myself and my life better. It's just my way, but my self-expression needs have been excessive as well as my incessant need to understand everything about my life.

While it is comforting to know how far those situations and my emotional life have come over the years they are not things I want to remember any longer - about myself or anyone else for that matter.

We all grow and change and learn throughout life and at my age I have nothing left to prove. I do not have a need to be right - just to be happy.  Forgiveness becomes easier and easier as I go through life. Not sweating the small stuff is also easier now and even addressing the small slights in life seems so silly in retrospect.

This is a goal I've had for retirement - having the time to reread these many journals, do some reminiscing, and put them in the past where they belong. (Also, knowing that someone could read my years of instability was a good motivator as well!)

But there are many, many pages left. Page upon page of the joy my children have given me through the years, of falling in love and marrying the love of my life at age 40, of singing, traveling and writing, of friends and family gatherings… many joys that I hope to read about again someday and know that while I spent many years in emotional pain and necessary growth -  it has been a life of many joys as well.

If Only.....

The epic novel "One Hundred Years of Solitude" (1967) is one of my favorite books. It is lovely and magical and beautifully written by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. He also wrote "Love in the Time of Cholera"(1985).

I recently read this quote by Marquez and, as a wanna-be writer, just said "Ahhhhh... if only."

People spend a lifetime thinking about how they would really like to live. I wish my life could have been like the years when I was writing "Love in the Time of Cholera". I would get up at 5:30 or 6 in the morning. I need only six hours of sleep. Then I quickly listened to the news. I would read from 6 to 8 because if I don't read at that time I won't get around to it anymore. I lose my rhythm. Someone would arrive at the house with fresh dish or lobster or shrimp caught nearby. Then I would write from 8 til 1. By midday, Mercedes would go to the beach and wait for me with my friends. I never quite knew who to expect;there were always people coming and going. After lunch I had a little siesta. And when the sun started going down I would go out on the street to look for places where my characters would go, to talk to people and pick up language and atmosphere. So the next morning I would have fresh material I had brought from the streets.

Ahhhhh.... if only, right?

Laura Ingalls Wilder

Today is the birthday of writer Laura Ingalls Wilder, born just north of Pepin, Wisconsin in 1867, author of the wildly popular children's book Little House on the Prairie (1935)and other books about growing up in the Midwest in the 1800's. They are all part of the Little House series, which she began writing in her 60's. THAT gives me hope! Since her death about a hundred different titles have appeared in the Little House series that she created. From her books have come a wonderful television series on NBC (1974-1984) - in my opinion, one of the BEST shows ever on television. Also, a 26 episode animated Japanese cartoon series called "Laura, The Prairie Girl", a couple of made-for-TV movies, an ABC mini-series (2005) and a musical.

All of her books have remained in print continuously since the time they were first published, have been widely translated, and have sold millions of copies. Little House in the Big Woods begins, "Once upon a time, sixty years ago, a little girl lived in the Big Woods of Wisconsin, in a little gray house made of logs."

Those words must have captured me because, although I don't have too many specific memories of elementary school, I clearly remember reading the first book and anxiously anticipating library day so I could check out the next one. I read all of them in succession and loved every one.

The TV series came on when I was almost an adult,so my fondest memories are of watching the shows in syndication years later with my own children. I think my daughter saw all 10 years of the series multiple times. I loved it because each episode taught a wholesome, loving lesson about how to treat each other, knowing wrong from right and the importance of always doing the right thing. I believe the show had a positive impact on my children and for that I honor Laura Ingalls Wilder today.

Good Books

One of the wonderful things about summer for a teacher is the time to read. Somehow a good book is even more appealing while sitting on the deck (or beach) with a nice glass of wine or a cool iced tea.

I read four excellent books this summer and I want to share them with you.

Cutting For Stone by Abraham Verghese. I love books that are sagas, that span a long period of time. This story starts out in Ethiopia with the tragic and compelling birth of conjoined twins, brothers who are separated at birth while their mother, a nun, dies in childbirth. Their father, a doctor, witnesses her death and abandons his boys to an Indian doctor, who raises them as her own. It continues for the next 25 years of their lives, through loss and betrayal, but with an almost mystical bond that the boys have. They both become physicians and one ends up in New York City. The book has an unexpected and shocking ending. Well worth the read.

American Gods by Neil Gaiman. I never thought I'd read a Neil Gaiman book. He is most well-known for writing a type of fantasy and the Sandman graphic novels. Not my thing, but curiosity got the best of me. Even as I was reading the epic American Gods I was shocked that I was loving it. I chose the 10th anniversary issue which advertised "author's preferred text". I just discovered that it contained 12,000 extra words from the original! I cannot even describe this book to you so I am giving you the Wikipedia description:
"The novel is a blend of American, fantasy and various strands of ancient and modern mythology, all centered on a mysterious and taciturn protagonist, Shadow."
Gaiman is from England and now lives in America. This is his take on what makes America spin.

State of Wonder by Ann Patchett. If I could write like anyone I might choose to be Ann Patchett. She is also the author of Bel Canto and The Patron Saint of Liars. Her books are wildly diverse in their topics. State of Wonder takes an American research scientist into the jungles of Brazil to check on the progress of an elusive scientist for a pharmaceutical company. She is also sent to discover what happened to a coworker who was reported dead. There, she becomes enveloped in the Amazonian tribe and their ways of living. It's a fascinating look into a world most of us know nothing about. Also, has quite a cool ending.

Life by Keith Richards. I can't really call myself a Rolling Stones fan let alone a Keith Richards fan, but I love autobiographies if they are well written and take you on journey into the person's life - and this one does that. He writes in a charming way. I particularly enjoy discovering how famous or successful people came to do what they have done, and this one is no exception. I did learn more about recreational drugs than I eve needed to know, but it was still a great read.

If you read, or have read any of these I'd love to read your comments. and of course, my own book The Desire Path is still available if you're looking for a good book:))

What is Not Expressed

This is an excerpt from a book called "The Book Of Awakening" by Mark Nepo. It is a book of inspirational essays for every day of the year. My poem, "Unopened" (see below) is about my confusion at sometimes feeling rejected and even disrespected for the ways that I am compelled to express myself. I have experienced the desire for self-expression to be a blessing and a curse. People react with anything from encouragement and support to indifference and bitterness. I am always taken aback by the range of reactions since I consider what I share with the world from my heart and soul - with no other agenda but to do what God has given me to do.

One of my favorite quotes is from Stephen King, who says - "If God gives you something to do, why in the world wouldn't you do it?"
Another is from Mark Twain:
"Keep away from small people who try to belittle your ambitions. Small people always do that, but the really great ones make you feel that you can become great."

A recent discouraging experience was in extreme contrast to my friend, Gail, who is a writer and poet, who took the time the other day to call me just to encourage me to continue promoting my new book. She had put a great deal of thought into ways that I could market it and assured me that she found the book worth every bit of effort I could give it. Amazing generosity.

What is Not Expressed
It seems the more we express, that is, bring out what is in, the more alive we are. The more we give voice to our pain in living, the less build-up we have between our soul and our way in the world. However, the more we depress, the more we push down and keep in , the smaller we become. The more we stuff between our heart and our daily experience, the more we have to work through to feel life directly. Our expressed life can become a callus we carry around and manicure, but never remove. Experience can in effect lose its essential tenderness and poignancy, as we mistakenly conclude that life is losing its meaning. To a man unaware of the cataracts filming his eyes, the world seems dimmer, not his seeing. How often do we find the world less stimulating, unaware our heart is diminished because its encasement in all that remains unexpressed?

Readin' and Writin'

Read, every day, something no one else is reading. Think, every day, something no one else is thinking. Do, every day, somethiing no one would be silly enough to do. It is bad for the mind to continually be part of unanimity.
Christopher Morley
1890-1957

Reading is sometimes an ingenious device for avoiding thought.
Arthur Helps
writer, 1813-1875

Risk being unliked. Tell the truth as you understand it. If you're a writer you have a moral obligation to do this. And it is a revolutionary act. Truth is always subversive.
Anne Lamott
from Bird by Bird

Taking Stock

My first week of summer has already gone by and I realized that I spent it lost in my own little world - writing a poem for my son's wedding, cleaning projects around the house, catching up on "General Hospital", taking walks, doing yardwork - in short, heavenly, peaceful, quiet, and stress-free. I thank God for every day. The one thing I did not pay any attention to is this BLOG!

This is my 584th post. I've tried to make each post meaningful and not a waste of time for my readers. There have been 116 posts of my own original poems and 31 COEXIST essays, among many other topics. But I'm wondering whether to go on. Is anyone still out there?

A couple months ago I noticed a huge jump in the number of hits on my blog on the stat-counter. I checked out where they were coming from and the vast majority were searching for Johnny Depp! I had one post about him being the sexiest man alive (duh) and apparently when people from all over the world Googled Johnny they ended up on my little blog post. I deleted that post because I want real readers, not celebrity seekers. Now the hits are greatly reduced, but that's OK as long as those of you out there are checking in. On the other hand, I have not given you much to check in on, now have I?

I have also been a bad blog reader. It became an overwhelming job to read everyone else's blogs every day or so, and maybe that's what has happened to all of you! And I don't blame you! What is the point of reading someone's blog just so they will read yours?

I guess I'm asking if this blog is truly worthwhile to any of you. It has been fun and challenging for me and also a great outlet for my self-expression needs. It has often kept me writing and thinking and keeping the old brain alive in the evenings. I want to continue to have a place to occasionally share a viable thought or a meaningful poem, I really do! Maybe just not quite as often. What do you think? (If anyone's still out there.)

I'm So Glad We Had This Time Together . . .

just to have a laugh or sing a song,
seems we just get started
and before you know it
comes the time we have to say
so long . . .

Four years ago I advertised around town to start a writing group in my area. Every month for the first year between 6-10 people showed up at the library to critique each other's diverse writing projects and give general support. But the majority of the group varied from month to month until there seemed to be four of us who worked well together, enjoyed each others' company and were on a similar level of writing abilities. I decided to end the library group and the four of us started meeting in a variety of places. We'd send each other new chapters of our books-in-progress by email to review before the meetings. It was a beautiful thing.

Until Nancy moved away. Then there were three of us. We continued on - two girls and a guy.

Most of my evening activities are ones I enjoy but often don't feel like attending after a long day's work. But being with Amy and Dan was something I always looked forward to. We nurtured and encouraged each other through one novel a piece as well as other fledgling projects.

We named our group WWR - Writers Without Readers - existing in the hope that someday at least ONE of us would be a writer WITH readers. I truly believe that any one of us would be as happy for another ones successful publication as we would be of our own - and that is a rare relationship to have with anyone.

We have become friends, sometimes meeting and sharing our lives with each other when none of us had accomplished any writing the month before (because sometimes life just gets in the way of being a part-time writer.) We've believed in each other, encouraged each other, supported each other and spent hours and hours editing and reviewing each other's work. A good, good thing that is now coming to an end.

Amy is moving away too.

We met last night for the last time to share a few laughs and few tears. It won't be the same, but we're glad to have email to continue to send each other our work in the future. And if one of us experiences any writing success of any kind, the others will be rejoicing from wherever we are.

Thank you Dan and Amy for a one-of-a-kind group. I look forward to receiving your published books in the mail someday. I will always treasure our time together.

I'm reading Carol Burnett's new book so as I drove away last night I quietly sang - I'm so glad we had this time together......

Quotes on Reading and Writing

Reading a book is like rewriting it for yourself. You bring to a novel anything you've read, all your experiences of the world. You bring your history and you read it in your own terms.
Angela Carter

The world of books is the most remarkable creation of man; nothing else that he builds ever lasts. Monuments fall; nations perish; civilizations grow old and die out; new races build others. But the world of books are volumes that have seen this happen again and again and yet live on. Still young, still as fresh as the day they were written, still telling men's hearts, of the hearts of men centuries dead.
Clarence Day

You write to communicate to the hearts and minds of others what's burning inside you. And we edit to let the fire show through the smoke.
Arthur Plotnik

The pages are blank; but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible.
Vladimir Nabokov

READ ANY GOOD BOOKS LATELY???

Looking for a Good Book?

Recently I read two excellent books and I wanted to share them with you.
The first one, Olive Kitteridge, I read this summer. I chose it for my book club pick this month and enjoyed reading it a second time, which is rare for me. It is a Pulitzer Prize winning book by Elizabeth Strout. Olive is a character in a book of 13 linked stories, or a "novel in stories". Sometimes she is the main character in the story and sometimes she is on the periphery or only mentioned. The setting is a small town in Maine and we come to know many of the residents through Olive. She is a woman that you may love or hate, or both at times. She can be abrasive and bossy, but also capable and helpful in a crisis. To me, Olive is someone we have all known and had to deal with. I also love the portrait of her long marriage to kind-hearted Henry and the poignant moments of loss and growing older.

The second book is The Help by Kathryn Stockett. The setting for this book is 1962 Mississippi at the cusp of the civil rights movement. The main character, Skeeter, is a woman ahead of her time. Her education gives her the desire to be more than a member of the women's Junior League, as all her friends are. She graduates from college after a childhood of only knowing black women as "the help", in her home and all the homes of privilege around her.When the black woman who raised her is wrongly accused of stealing and coldly fired, she rebels. As her eyes are opened to the reality of these women's lives, she is appalled and begins to write a book about them. She interviews them secretly at a high risk for all involved since their jobs as maids are the only ones available to them in that era. The book introduces you to a wonderful cast of female characters and amazes you when you realize this way of life was only one generation ago.

My 500th Post

This is my 500th post. I started in September of 2007 and haven't stopped. My first post explained why I chose COEXIST as my title. I wrote " When you think about it, the word coexist embodies all the good and bad of this earthly life. There is very little in life that does not require us to coexist with something or someone."

Much to my surprise I now coexist with many amazing and prolific writers in the blogging world. I coexist with oh, so many "friends" on Facebook. These are new and wonderful ways to be a part of the world, but they also require time, energy, interest and creativity.

What surprises me more than anything is that I have found 500 things to share. I used to lie awake at night fretting over what my next post would be and if all my readers would abandon me if I skipped a few days. Now I just write spontaneously as I am right now.

I appreciate every kind comment and word of encouragement. I have enjoyed meeting a few of my blog followers in person. To be honest, I wish that my readership would have grown much more than it has, yet, I believe I do this for myself more than anything else. It's a bit of a challenge, but more than that, it is self-expression. And if anyone thrives on self-expression it's me!

Blogging has given me a new perspective on people. All the people I've met through blogging have truly been wonderful, creative, often spirit-filled humans that have inspired me endlessly. Bloggers and writers, in my experience, are extremely generous people, and that gives me hope in the future.

So, if you are reading this - thank you. You have blessed my life more than you could imagine.

Madeleine L'Engle

Madeleine L'Engle wrote dozens of books many of them her own journals which I always found inspirational and quotable. L'Engle's most famous book is probably the young adult novel "A Wrinkle in Time."

I looked through one of my favorites "A Circle of Quiet", published in 1972 and found these words:

I haven't defined a self, nor do I want to. A self is not something static, tied up in a pretty parcel and handed to the child, finished and complete. A self is always becoming. Being does mean becoming, but we run so fast that it is only when we seem to stop - as sitting on the rock at the brook - that we are aware of our own is-ness, of being. But certainly this is not static, for this awareness of being is always a way of moving from the selfish self - the self-image - and towards the real.
Who am I, then? Who are you?

Madeleine L'Engle lived from 1918 - 2007. Read more about her HERE.

Good Books

I'm starting to wonder if some of the stay-up-at-night books I've been looking for have been hiding in the young adults section. Sometimes I think that I've read so many novels that I am just cynical and burned-out from them. I've read so many awful books this year, all the while wondering how the heck they got published in the first place! But finally, I read one that I did indeed want to stay up after bedtime and not put down and it is classified as a young adult book. It is called "The Book Thief" by Markus Zusak. I seem to enjoy good writing more than anything these days and this one was creative, quirky, not sappy, touching and written like one 550 page poem. Loved it! The narrator is Death and it is set in Nazi Germany. Here's a sample of the narrator's poetry:
When their bodies had finished scouring for gaps in the door, their souls rose up. When their fingernails had scratched the wood and in some cases were nailed into it by the sheer force of desperation, their spirits came towards me, into my arms and we climbed out of those shower facilities, onto the roof and up, into eternity's certain breadth.
The book is about a little girl named Liesel (love that name) who wants to learn to read and the priceless gift that books can bring when they are rare and desired. Something we take for granted now.

Another beautifully written book is "Olive Kitteridge" by Elizabeth Strout. It is a collection of linked stories and the writing drew me in and made me want to be a better writer. Novels are often for enjoyment and escape, but they also take hours of our time to read. I like to know that my time is well-spent. These two books were well worth my time. Have you read anything good lately?

A Moveable Feast

I haven't read much Hemingway since high school but I am reading a new edition of "A Moveable Feast". Published posthumously in 1964, the book is a collection of his personal memoirs of writing in Paris in the 1920's. It gives you a clear portrait of Paris at that time and of some notable writers that Hemingway encountered there such as F.Scott Fitzgerald and Gertrude Stein. This edition is supposed to include his complete papers and intentions for the book, not the edited version that his wife Mary published after his death.

Here are some a my favorite sentences from the book. Such pure writing:

Do not worry. you have always written before and you will write now. All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence you know.

I had learned already never to empty the well of my writing; but always to stop when there was still something there in the deep part of the well, and let it refill at night from the springs that fed it.

But you knew there would always be spring, as you knew the river would flow again after it was frozen. When the cold rains kept on and killed the spring, it was as though a young person died for no reason.
In those days, though, the spring always came finally; but it was frightening that it had nearly failed.

We ate well and cheaply and drank well and cheaply and slept well and warm together and loved each other.

TTFN

I 'm sorry for the sad lack of inspiring posts lately. My heart hasn't been in the writing mode this summer and I'm sorely disappointed in myself for that. I am taking a break for this week and hopefully will return with something worthwhile to say. Enjoy these summer days and say a prayer for me if you would. So, as Tigger would say "TTFN! Ta-ta for now!" stop back and visit me in a week. Love you all.

Well-Behaved Women Seldom Make History

This is taken from "The Writer's Almanac" on July 11, 2009.

It's the birthday of the woman who first said "Well-behaved women seldom make history"; historian and writer Laurel Thatcher Ulrich born in Sugar City Idaho (1938). She wrote several books about the lives of women in colonial New England, including A Midwives Tale (1990), which won the Pulitzer Prize for history. And back when she was a graduate student, she wrote an obscure academic article about Puritan funeral services and she included the quote "well-behaved women seldom make history." She was saying that nobdy paid much attention to the group of ordinary law-abiding Puritan women she was writing about, because everyone was so focused on the women accused of witchcraft in Salem. But her quote got taken out of context and used as a rallying cry for women to break away from their expected roles and misbehave. It got reprinted on T-shirts, bumper stickers, mugs and tote bags. And finally she decided that if she was getting so much press in the mainstream culture, she might as well use it, and she wrote a book with the same title, published in 2007. The cover features a woman wearing a shirt with the authors' own famous quote.