Thursday, September 27, 2012

A list of songs that give me "the feeling". (Not that feeling. Seriously, stop being a perv.)

I know I have talked about "the feeling" before.  You know, the particular tingle that starts at the top of your head and moves down to the nape of your neck, out through your shoulders, and ends up as goosebumps all along your arms? "The feeling" that reverberates through your spine and ends somewhere around your tailbone? This is the feeling I want when I write. Sometimes I can bait the feeling with music. What songs specifically, you ask? Well, I've got a short list right here for you! No, I didn't go all "High Fidelity" and rank them and group them by category. It's just a list, in no particular order...

Wish You Were Here - Pink Floyd
Wonderwall - Oasis
The Light - Common
Tattoos on this Town - Jason Aldean
Love Like You - Paper Tongues
Closer to the Edge - 30 Seconds to Mars
To Make You Feel My Love - Garth Brooks (yes, I did mean this version, not Adele)
Fall to Pieces - Velvet Revolver (No, most definitely not the Patsy Cline song)
Drive - Incubus
Some Nights - Fun.
Beautiful Girl - INXS
Lightning Crashes - Live
1979 - Smashing Pumpkins
Gigantic - The Pixies
Once in a Lifetime - The Talking Heads
Nothing Compares to You - Sinead O'Connor
Shadowboxer - Fiona Apple
Blackbird - The Beatles
Not Ready to Make Nice - Dixie Chicks
If it Kills Me - Jason Mraz
Only the Good Die Young - Billy Joel
Mona Lisa's and Mad Hatters - Elton John



Friday, September 21, 2012

Realizing you are a storyteller (despite your best efforts).

So, while having a quick chat online with Jimmy Blackwell (...go ahead, click on it and check out some of his writing. Do it.) about writing dialogue for fiction pieces, he said/wrote this particular phrase that jumped up and punched me in the throat. He said, "Rather those who possess the skill to tell a captivating story have the power to tame the world". WHOA! Even though I am total crap at writing dialogue, I know when an opportunity for a poem is knocking on my door. I did what any normal girl would do and proposed that we each take that line and come up with a piece based on it, and then see what happens. We gave ourselves a week.

Well, it has been a week and here is my piece titled, The Storyteller:

Storyteller. Yes, a story yeller.
From the rooftops to the rocking chairs.
I am.
The believer, doer, knower, feeler.
Dream painter, heart healer
risk maker, and love taker.
I am all of this and so are you.

Words falling from my mouth like rain.
Catch them on your tongue; taste my smiles
for they should not be given in vain. Drugged as you want to be.
Numb. My words
are equal to and greater than novocaine. 

Hands failing around. Directing this choir of old stories
to be heard by your ears only. Fingertips punctuating each secret
and every joke. Telling you things
I wish you wouldn't know. Didn't know. Won't care.

Story of her and them; but mostly of us.
Of full truths,
half lies, mighty tries, of burgers and fries.
Of then and now.
Where and how.
Wasn’t it just like you were there?

Let me tell you one more story. I’ll share,
if you’ll stare
at me just like that for 15 minutes.
This story is like a coat to wear.

I promise. 
Something to hold. 
Keep out the cold.
Like the greatest story you never told
me.

And never will. 
 
Storyteller with magic in my hands.
But the
truth is in your eyes
and
anticipation in your heart.
With
out these stories, these memories
I find it hard to trust
that cosmos giggle
that ghosts float
that angels descend
and that lives are lived outside the lines of my college ruled paper.

Won't you let me spin you a tale
using my hair as the fiber that binds us together
like bad magic.
You sing.
I’ll dance.

Just for tonight.

(Here is the link to Jimmy's piece: "More Than Words")

Monday, September 17, 2012

"Creative Writing" (No eye rolling or sighing implied)

Do you ever get the feeling that when people talk about creative writing, they are implying air-quotes? Like "Creative Writing" (sigh, eye roll, air quotes)? As if it is something to be mocked?

I really don't think they understand that creative writing is much more than sonnets, soliloquies, and iambic pentameter. It is song lyrics, movie scripts, and stand up comedy routines. It is fortune cookie slips, advertising copy, and op-ed pieces.

Know what you don't ever hear: "I'm sorry, did I hear that correctly? You're a rocket scientist? How useful is that in everyday life? I can't believe your parents supported that college major!".  Sheesh. To each their own, right?

Yes. I am a writer. A creative one at that.

A friend of mine found this on the interwebs and sent it to me. Yes, she was also an English major in college. How'd you guess?

Friday, September 7, 2012

Zodiac Exercise #7 - Cancer


What a way to spend my lunch hour, eh?  Here's the seventh part to my Zodiac writing prompt exercise titled, Contra:

Your memory is uncanny. How do you recall these details?
The extra fine curves and lines of the lies we happily told each other.
The way you can describe our first meeting makes me nervous.
I remember it much differently. And with difficulty.

I thought you wanted only yourself for company. Possibly your scotch.
That I wasn't good enough. Not funny enough. Not clever. Not captivating.
Now I find you wanted me as more. As all. As yours. Definitely not his.

Living inside past memories and dreams of the future is dangerous.
(For both of us.)
Why remain silent about the here and now?

I am not a bird in a cage to set free and watch.
Not serendipity in human form. Arms out and fingers grabbing for chances.
If you want me, show me. Come and get me

As a woman, I may be a contradiction.
But you, are just plain contrary.


Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Honesty is the best policy...

...unless you are going to say something negative about me. Then you can just keep it to yourself.
No, no. Seriously. I need to be honest here. I have not submitted a single piece of writing since June. There, I said it.

It seems like I have been writing some new stuff and editing some existing pieces, but I have simply been too lazy to submit. That is all there is to it. I am not nervous about submission and am not anxious about rejection letters - I am just being lazy. This is a seriously sad state of affairs because I will certainly never get published if I don't submit. I recognize this vicious circle and have instead opted to watch episodes of Weeds on Netflix.

Well, no time like the present to make some changes. Guess I'll go look at my submission spreadsheet (Yes, spreadsheet. Don't judge me.) and get my ass in gear.


Here is my dog Jasper being as lazy as I feel. It is possible that his reluctance to help me fold laundry is due to his lack of opposable thumbs.