Blue Moon- feminine voice

I wanted to be poetic and beautifully deep while thinking about a Blue Moon, but honestly all that comes to mind is beer. I love beer. I don’t love getting drunk. I love the taste, the mouth feel, the patient creativity of brewing your own. When I am enjoying the flavor, the dulling drunk is annoying, limiting the palate.

The first time I drank beer, I spit it out. I think it was a Miller product. The next time was Guinness and I was redeemed. The two experiences could not be further apart. I started home brewing in 1993 while living in Florida. There were 5 of us sharing the house, which required plenty of beer. With a full crew, we had one batch blowing off, one in second fermentation, one aging, and one to drink. I lost the necessity of lots of bubbles. I appreciated what a good head was and how the top of the glass can be different than the bottom.

After a several year stop in production, I started to experiment again. I wanted to make a historical beer. Me being me, I had to choose the most difficult ones-the ones with no surviving recipes- Rye Beer, and Ebulum. With the German Purity Laws, brewing guilds had to destroy their secret recipes. Ebulum – an elderberry oatmeal beer- was never really written down. Well, they sort of were. They were like my recipes: a list of ingredients with no quantity or instructions of any kind. These are the best recipes. I like to play with my food. And drink-

I called the rye Judas Tears. The beverage is against the law. It is perceived as yuck by those who hear what it is, but when cajoled into trying it, those who hate beer are surprised to be fond of it.
The ebulum is called Heather and Hay- two Scottish items for an old Scottish beer. There's wheat and elderberries and a list of spices that it makes no sense that they would work together, but there you are- a bunch of individual elements that can stand on their own or combine unexpectedly into something good.

After 14 years of growing, my grape vines burst and overflow and I am encouraged to a more patient level creativity in wine making. I use my grapes, and honey and ciders to make combinations I've never heard of. My freezer is full of 15ish gallons of grapes waiting for the prefect day to get smooshed. It is the only time I am capable of patience- when I am brewing and vinting or waiting until the perfect day to do either. I'm willing to wait for a Blue Moon until it's ready.

Impotence - femine voice week 17

-inability to preform and accomplish
-too much pressure, which is an unblaming way of saying insecurity and fear
Frozen in fear
Impotence:
frustrating at best in terms of creativity
terrifying at worst in the face of violence when being frozen in fear results in harm.

I have spent many focused weeks on creative writing- poetry- and now this feels foreign. it will take some getting used to to write in full sentences again.

Illusions- feminine voice week 16

I'm back in order, and almost on time-

I am disappointed to realize that my own search for truths in life has resulted in the disbelief of illusion. Like a Victorian scientist, I am focused on looking behind the curtain, to not let myself be swept away, or otherwise fooled by a trick of the eyes or hand. I'm finding it terribly unfair to my heart, my spirit of whimsy to not let it be amazed by a street magician's card tricks.

Pray to not lose your innocence- to not lose your ability to just be amazed.
Pray to not need the truth.

Simple Subtraction- femine voice week 11

This topic still eludes me. I read it, and I have nothing.
Math?
Paring back commitments?
Eliminating unhealthy people?

Not a thing has come to mind for 6 weeks.
I think I'm going to have to pass on this one, Alex-
Maybe someday something will come of it. Until then, I'll put a line through it on my list of things I hope to right about.

done and done

Poetry, by it's very nature is secretively personal, whatever the emotional circumstance. I have ones from when I was sure I was in the deepest love or pain (sometimes both at the same time)that I was sure were brilliant at the time, but now I shake my head at how little I knew about either thing at that time. I would never let them go though. They are more than mine. They are the manifestation of something significant enough for me to document.
Because of that personal nature, poetry is so very intimate. To send out a manuscript is a huge step of chance. It feels riskier than other forms of writing. It is standing naked at the Super Bowl and asking everyone what they think of your body, and then compare it to others equally naked.
I just mailed my first collection of poetry to be judged. I'm at the 50 yard line, during half time, and I can't see how much time is left on the clock.


Exciting, isn't it......?

Away from home-

I've been missing my book. I'm out of the house a lot more now. My eyes are so tired by the time I get home. I'm feeling the "practical" of my everyday like distracting grains. I miss my characters and taking them out to play with them to see what happens to them and when. I miss seeing if a situation fits this character or that one better. I have not been completely keyboard quiet.
I have been working on the Walt Whitman Award for Poetry entry. I still have a few weeks. I just might make it to 50 pages without resorting to double spacing. I'm ok with taking the time off to take the stab at the poetry project. I first wrote poetry and didn't think I could write fiction. But I'm missing it.
It'll be good to go back after being away to see if what's there still holds when my mind is different. I'm looking forward to finding out if it does. And if it doesn't, I'll take a break, then go back again to see if it was the writing or my mood.
But I miss it-

A Whole New World

When creating a fantasy world, you have to know who your "good guys" are. You have to explain to your reader why they are the good guys and your bad guys are bad guys. I'm finding G.G. society has to be somewhat idyllic, but not unbelievably Utopian. You want your reader to want to live there on some level. Some parallels and a touch of reality makes a connection between what the reader knows and what you tell them. As a writer, I have to understand that a crime free world probably came from an extreme disciplinarian mindset. It's core social evolution things like that which determine the flow of classes and religion. I'm don't think I have to explain the full history, but I do need to know what it is to reflect the mood.

My society is classless so far. The religion is basic and sparsely mentioned in the form of traditions. Genders have equality. "Protect the men!" is just as likely as a cry as for the women and children. While parental responsibility is big, being a biological parent is not. To write a society, I have to decide what these people strive for, what they hope to earn in their lifetimes, and to achieve their end.

In short, in your created world, who are your hero's heroes?

I know who they are in my story. If I did my job right, then the reader will know who I am talking about. If I'm really lucky, I will change an ideal or two-
One can only hope.

Needing Pep

I'm having temporary discouragement. Other than the big bad world stuff, my application for another job has been rejected as well as my first attempt at a paid writing piece. It's the self pity moment of the new writer. I feel the same way when I think about how many books are in the library and who do I think I am believing my silly story is worthy of sharing shelf space? It's a nagging doubt that everybody has. You know you did at some point.
Just 5 more minutes to feel sorry for myself, then look at the review of my work and learn from it. But for the next 5 minutes, I'm not going to be so happy.

Lines- feminine voice dare - week 10

originally written 4-26-1993

What do you think it is? No, look deeper- it goes further than just geometry- more than just a line on a sheet of paper. It's a line sure- but it could be a line connecting two points. They are different, but the line between them joins them and let's them respect the privilege of having an opinion.

And it could be more than that. Instead of just a point at each end, maybe there's more- five, six,twelve, a hundred- a hundred points in between, all connected by a hundred tiny lines. A hundred separate thoughts all pulled together and depending on each other to pass the line along. Maybe a thousand pin points doing the same thing- a million- trusting the unwavering strength of each other to keep the line alive. Without one point to bind them, the whole thing would be blown in to utter chaos- the kind that crumbles nations.

Every line we draw and the shape it makes defines us. Each line shape we put on paper holds a segment of our infinite ideas that need to be understood. We have to be careful about the order the lines go in. The order helps us to perceive- to join thoughts without criticizing the other. And we are different, but the lines we draw join us and let us respect the privilege of having an opinion.
The more finite the lines, the more points, the more thoughts connect and more ideas, joining in comprehension until it all just flows back and forth- different and same in improbable continuity.

You look confused. Where did I lose you? At a line connecting two points....Maybe if you look at it this way? No? Maybe I just have a longer line than you. Or maybe mine is just a different shade of blue- either way...

Phonetically speaking

I noticed this morning something about the character names I created for my book.
There are essentially 3 generations. The wise sages, the main characters(let's say mid-teen to 40ish), and the very young children.
Those in the eldest have names that sound distinctly different than other names.
Of the mean age group characters- The women have primary vowel sounds, specifically long E and short I. (the two are indeed similar)
The men all have double consonants at the exact center of their name. This is more a fact of spelling than sound.
The youngest have short A common.

An interesting subconscious trend-

Refining words

It is not enough for me to simply say I am a writer. That is so broad a definition. It's like saying "I am water"- are you a gentle rain, a pond, a waterfall, a river? There are too many ways to be to limit explaining yourself. A writer is someone who can place words on paper, like a ToDo or grocery list. I write all day on scraps with what ever bit of knowledge I need in 5 minutes or 5 days. I write here. I write more private things there. I add to things and take away lines to poems no one will likely ever read. On paper, on line, on my hand, with chalk in the driveway - "Writer" is not clear enough for me.

I am a story teller of dream-like tales
I am a poet
I am a witness of places I visit.
I am a teacher from far away.
I need to know what hat I am wearing or the words won't come.

When you are a writer, what kind of writer are you?

New ground

I have been laboring probably too much, over an article for http://unfinishedprojectparty.wordpress.com/
a sewing blog run by a new friend. I'm having some difficulty trying to narrow down my subject matter. I have only taught orally. Putting things down on paper for the first time like this is an interesting learning process. I have to assume my reader has limited knowledge about the subject. At the same time, I know they are not stupid. I'm learning to find the point were over explaining becomes the problem. I hope I can learn this, because while writing this article, about six more ideas for later ones came to mind! I'm also increasing my computer skills. I am teaching myself to add pics and links to an document. It feels good to catch up.

my book

I'm taking a minute to plan where to go next. A list of the thought process:
I'm writing an hour or so in the morning for the time being. I'm having some difficulty in generating names. When it's hard I pout- do I really have to? Isn't it difficult for the reader? What if the pronunciation in their heads is not the same as mine? The new guy will be named 'Bob'. That's just easier on everyone.

In the afternoons, I have been listened to "Eldest". He, along with Tolkien, McAffrey, and dozen others have done it. Every fantasy writer has to for some degree. My story is a fantasy novel. It doesn't have magic and dragons, but it still is for a list of reasons-
I have generated a map of this place. I have created a religion, social structure, and code of ethics, not only for the main culture, but for an opposing force as well. I have created a sunrise unlike the one I see. Names would reasonably follow suit. If I'm worried about pronunciation, well that's why God made appendices.
I have realities as I understand them. There is civic planning and military tactics, schools, hospitals, farms and livestock. The research is there.

Something I knew, but finally understood clicked today. This is harder than it seems.
The technical aspects got in the way for the first few days. My verb tenses are all over the place. I have good sentences I keep moving around until I find the right spot. That's not my part write now. The designer of a universe is my job right now. I's and T's come later. That makes it easier. Sort of-

Space- feminine voice week 8

The boys have gone back to school already , and I have had a strangely difficult time writing.I had been looking forward to the time to mentally and emotionally stretch out- to let my mind take up all the space it can in my head while the boys are under someone else's care. I haven't written yet. I have rearranged furniture, painted the pantry (:-)), mowed the lawn, ironed everyone's shirts, caught up the laundry and dusted the living room. I have manipulated my space. Now that I have my space, and the uninterrupted time to write, I still don't have time to do so. I want my space to be right- to be neat and tidy and I'm making excuses. I see me, trying to hide over there in the corner of a sphere.

Some friends moved away yesterday. I called the truck pack and tried to keep it tight, but easy enough for them to unload. Half the truck was still empty. I can manage space well. Managed space is efficient, efficient is easy and quick. There is something to be said for slopping right in too. I keep thinking about my book. I'm going to write some now-

Feminine Voice Dare

* a message sent to many of us from a woodpecker with a cattle prod*

The Feminine Voice

Saturday, June 12, 2010 at 4:06pm

Message to all women: write.

I've realized just today why I hate the term "women's history" or "women's studies." I have always felt that women are/were a part of ALL history, that we didn't have a separate history where we evolved in a bubble. Our lives should not be considered separate from that of men. Our lives are defined by our relationships to them and to each other. However, women came late to literacy, so that most ancient records portray the feminine voice as one of muted pluralism defined and described in most part by men. I don't want our voices quieted again, so I'm asking the women in my life to write. Write fiction, non-fiction, conversations, letters, journals, blogs, cookbooks, strategic battle plans, etc.

These are the keys to being heard by future generations. Tell your own stories. Please don't be quiet. make some noise, ladies. :D
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I had always been proud of my writing until one English teacher told me it sucked. I kept much of my writing private, having become so self conscious of it. A poke from the right place at the right time can start the ball rolling. She plans to give us a subject and we have one week to create.
Let's see if I still got it....