Ever Think About Writing a Book of Poems?

Nattional Poetry Month is nearly over. This morning, I learned that a poet in my state writers organization has a book of poetry soon to be released. I'm looking forward to reading it for one reason. Roy J. Beckemeyer is one fine poet.

He's started a blog about the process of writing a book of poetry. I hope to follow it as Roy guides us through the steps taken to do this. His blog can be found here.  He's only posted twice, two consecutive Sundays, so I'm guessing it's gonna be a Sunday kind of thing.

Poets can assemble a book of their poems in different ways. There might be a theme of some kind--transportation, childhood, coming of age, job-related, love, tragedy--any number of choices. Or, it could be just a crazy quilt assembly with the theme coming through in each section rather than the entire book.

If the poet is prolific and has hundreds of poems to choose from, how in the world does he/she do it? I think all writers have their own favorites and those are the ones that will be selected. The ones that shine through the stacks of poems written over years.

Have you ever thought of putting a book of poems together? Do you have enough poems in your files to make up a full book? Poetry books are often short so perhaps you do. Here's a book with blank pages for you to get inspired.

Time For A Picture Prompt Exercise

It's the end of the week so let's consider a picture prompt writing exercise. Spring has finally arrived in the USA, although it's in various stages in different parts of our country. Some are still dealing with leftover snow while others are surrounded with the colorful blossoms on trees and in gardens. 

I've selected three pictures that have springtime flowers. The picture gives you the setting. It's your job to provide the story or poem that comes from studying the picture. Try your favorite, or if you're ambitious, try all three. No rules here. It's up to you to write a paragraph, a full story, or a poem. Even an essay or memoir piece. 

Hint:  this one's in England

Don't Dwell On Past Errors In Judgment

Do you worry too much about what you did days, weeks, months or years ago in your writing world? I think a lot of us spend more time than is good for us regretting the way we wrote a story or a response to an editor when a story was rejected.--even a scathing critique we might have given someone who wrote a god-awful story.

How many times can we tell ourselves--I wish I had...  or I never should have...? We shouldn't put our past problems, or perhaps a better term is errors in judgement, in a position to hinder our writing world future.

Think about the past but don't dwell on it. 

Maybe some of you don't even want to think about those things you now regret. My thought is that we need to think about it in order to learn from it. I firmly believe that we learn from our mistakes. Or maybe I should rephrase that to we are given th e opportunity to learn from our mistakes. We need to look back and do two things:
   1.  figure out why what happened was a mistake or error in judgement
   2.  decide what can be learned from the experience.

Think about the past but don't let whatever happened overwhelm you. You can't change what happened but you do control the present and the future. Make both your top priorities.

Happy Birthday Mr. Shakespeare

William Shakespeare

Big day today for fans of Will Shakespeare. It's his 450th birthday. He lived a mere 52 years but what an influence he has had on the English speaking world. The playwright, poet and actor began life in Stratford-Upon-Avon in England and he died there, too.

Several years ago, Ken and I visted this charming town on the River Avon. We saw the outside of the place where his birth supposedly took place, and we visited and toured Anne Hathaway's cottage. Anne and Will married when he was 18 and she 26. I would think she was considered a spinster at that age during that period of time. The story goes that Miss Anne was pregnant at the time of the wedding. Great fodder for gossip at the local shops and marketplace.

After seeing the announcement that this is William Shakespeare's birthday, I got to wondering if one of the world's most famous playwrights had a critique group. Did he sit around a table at a pub with other men in the arts world? Did they banter back and forth as to who was the best? Which one could claim the most fame? Who was  the dunderhead of them all? More importantly, did they look at one another's work and offer suggestions?

If they did critique one another's work, did they do it politely or with scathing words tossed across the table? Did they compliment one another when face to face, then tear another writer apart behind his back? Were they all good enough friends that they could accept criticism in any form? We'll never know the answers to these questions.

Whether William Shakespeare had a critique group, or even a single mentor, in his writing world is of little importance to us today, it's more of a curiosity topic. But for writers in our own world, having that one special mentor or a writing group of some kind ranks very high on my list of what a writer needs.

Whether a single mentor or a group, you can only benefit from their input. You'll grow as a writer by truly  listening to what they tell you about your writing. You might not like some of what they say. It's a bitter pill to swallow at times. You'll appreciate any praise you receive but you'll learn from the constructive criticism. Enter any critique group with the proper attitude and you'll come out the winner. Go in with a poor attitude and you'll reap poor results.

When you are in the position of critiquing someone else's writing, keep in mind that you should point out all the things you liked as well as what you felt could do with some revision. Be honest but be kind. Keep in mind that you might be the person being critiqued next.

Happy Birthday, Mr. Shakespeare. We're still benefiting from the words you wrote in longhand so long ago.

Where Do Readers Buy Books?

A Perfect Gift For Mother's Day

Where do you buy your books? Strictly at the local bookshop? Or online? Or at secondhand bookstores? Or at big box discount retailers? There are differences in prices, ambience and appeal, as well as your views on publishers.

I received a notice yesterday that Not Your Mother's Book On Being A Mom is no longer just a pre-order status on Amazon You can order it for immediate shipping at a 10% discount on the retail price. At Barnes and Noble, you can order this anthology as an ebook for close to half off the retail price of the print copy. I checked the Walmart booksite and did not find the book there. However, there was another title in the Not Your Mother's Book On... series and it was priced at about 1/3 off the retail price.

The bookstore that you physically walk into, stop and soak up the atmosphere, is more than likely going to sell at full retail price. I don't have a problem with that because that bookstore is offering me an experience along with the ability to purchase a book. Or two! The chain stores offer volume while the local bookseller has far fewer books but they might be high up on the atmosphere scale. Anyone who is a true reader benefits a great deal from a visit to a bookstore.

You're not going to find a recently released book in a secondhand store or your annual library book sale, so don't bother checking those places.

I buy books at different places. Sometimes, it's easier to order online so I do. Sometimes I am traveling and find a large retail bookseller and purchase books there. Sometimes, I go to my local bookstore and look for a title. If they don't have it on the shelf, I'm always offered the option of letting them order it for me.

If I'm in Kansas City and shopping at Costco, I always take time to browse the open bin book area. Good selections, good prices. Besides that, browsing through a whole lot of books is satisfying to my soul!

Book prices go up just like everything else in our world. It happens for good reasons. Publishers costs go up and must be passed on to the customer or the publishing house will soon be out of business. Those who self-publish print books also have costs which increase over time, as well. It's one reason that publishing as an ebook has become so attractive. The costs are lower and the author can set the selling price lower but still make a profit.

The next time you grumble about the price of a book, give consideration to all that goes into it. I hated to see the jump in prices of children's picture books. I understand full well why they had to go up but I also felt bad that it meant many children would have fewer books to call their own.

Where do you buy your books? Or are you a library user instead? How do you feel about paying full reatil price versus a discount seller? Let us know in the comments section below.

Write About The Place Where You Live

The Flint Hills

We spent last week in the Hill Country of Texas. In some ways, it reminded me of the scenery where I live. There are probably more trees and bushes in the Texas area that what we have here in the Flint Hills of Kansas. We're known for being tallgrass prairie. 

You often hear about Montana being referred to as the Big Sky country. That's true, but the term applies to this area of Kansas, too. As we drive the four lane road the nine miles out to the interstate, we're surrounded by the prairie grasses, the hills, and the amazing sky. It always makes me wish I could reach out and graps a handful of the sky. Occasionally, there are cattle close enough to see but usually, it's the natural scenery that makes my heart soar. The vastness alone makes me feel so very small and inconsequential. 

The prairie grasses change with the seasons, a glorious green now after the spring burning. Yes, they burn in early spring to allow the tender new grass to emerge. I've read that this new grass will add extra pounds to the cattle that graze on it. As long as it's a controlled burn, there is great beauty in the blazes. The charred earth left afterward lets those who pass by know that the new grass will be coming up soon. In the fall, the grass gets dry and has a rust-hued tinge to it. 

National Geographic has featured this area as have TV shows and other magazines and books. Artists and photographers spend hours painting or snapping pictures. Ours is the largest stand of tallgrass prairie left. That fact alone brings biologists and paleontologists here to study. 

One day, when we were driving through the Flint Hills on our way to Topeka, I felt so overcome by all that surrounded me that I wrote a poem, submitted to a state contest and won first place. 

A Heavenly Gift One calm and peaceful day the hand of God passed over the land we know as Kansas, this place where the hills meet the plains, where sweet prairie grasses bend and sway like ballerinas amidst soft and gentle breezes, then dance wildly when furious winds blow. The Lord God pulled the vast skies close to the ground, like a soft coverlet of blue. He gave us air to breathe so clear the stars can do no less than shine in glorious reply through velvet nights. Over these hills and across these plains, the Creator scattered many-hued wildflowers and treasured trees in all the right places. His mighty hand carved brooks and streams alike. With grateful heart my prayer of thanks soars Heavenward from this very special place that I call home.

The point of all this talk about where I live is that each one of you lives somewhere that has something unique about it. Look around you. What is your area noted for? Write about it. Let others know what it is about the placewhere you live that warms your heart and makes you proud. It may be more concrete than grass but that's alright. There is beauty of different kinds in different places. There is something that says home to you. 

Make this your writing exercise one day this week. Share it here with me and other readers if you like. Make us want to come and visit the place where you live.

Easter Memories

Have you written Easter memories for your Family Memory Book? This is one I wrote a few years ago. 

I’ve been thinking about the Easter celebrations of my childhood years in the Chicago area during the 1940’s. When Easter fell in March or early April, we donned colorful spring dresses and coats to walk to church in sharp north winds, even a little snow on occasion.

On one of those bitter cold Easter mornings, I had a new aqua-blue spring coat and hat that I’d looked forward to wearing. Mother told me it was much too cold to wear it. “You have too far to walk to church. You’ll freeze,” she said.

I begged and begged. “Please let me wear it. I’ll wear a sweater underneath.” Tears slipped from my eyes as I waited for her to give in. They were genuine, not a ploy. Wearing that new coat was a monumental need at that moment at age eight.

Mother relented, but I did have to wear the sweater I’d proposed underneath my lightweight, pastel-colored coat. I think I was very glad to have it as my brother and I headed to church to hear the Easter story once again. My parents never attended church

with us. Theirs was a mixed marriage—Dad was Catholic and Mother Methodist, and neither ever gave in to the other. But we kids all attended the Methodist church and Sunday School. Dad polished our shoes every Saturday night so we’d look our best on Sunday mornings. He buffed them to a high shine and lined them up in the living room.

The day before Easter, we dyed eggs in glorious colors. Coffee cups filled with hot water, a dye tablet and a splash of vinegar covered the kitchen table. We arranged the eggs on a big platter with artificial grass as a nest. The Easter Bunny would hide them while we slept that night.

The Easter Bunny usually brought us a few chocolates, jelly beans and a new comic book. He also hid the brightly colored eggs in our living and dining rooms. What fun it was to discover the decorated eggs, one or two of which we always found in Dad’s shoes left out overnight.

Later in the day, aunts, uncles and cousins joined us for a special dinner. Mother usually fixed a leg of lamb or a big ham, glazed with brown sugar and mustard, cloves inserted in the scored top. Many side dishes weighed down the dining room table-- scalloped or mashed potatoes, two or three vegetables, a jello salad, homemade rolls, pickles, olives and pickled beets, and a springtime dessert of some kind, cream pies, berry pies, or a cake with whipped cream frosting. The aroma of all these good things filled our small apartment.

When we were all too full to move, it was time to do dishes. No dishwashers, but all the women pitched in and they were finished in no time. Maybe not all the women. I had one aunt who always announced she needed to use the bathroom as soon as the cleaning up began. Off she went, and she never appeared in the kitchen again! The clatter of dishes and the chatter of women filled the tiny kitchen. My cousin, Carol, and I were drafted at an early age to dry the silverware, a job neither of us liked. We hurried through our task so we could walk to the park to play the rest of the afternoon.  Occasionally, we finished our Easter celebration by going to the movies. We sat transfixed at the fabulous musicals starring Betty Grable or some other glamorous star.

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The rebirth of springtime flowers, trees and bushes still symbolizes the meaning of Easter for me. Christ’s resurrection created a rebirth for all Christians, and as He taught us to love one another, I also think of the love of family as part of our Easter celebrations. It isn’t only the ones of my childhood but for today, as well. We will be spending this Easter holiday with our daughter’s family, going to church, having a celebration dinner, and being together. Not so very different than all those years ago.