Festive bubbles in a blue blown-glass paperweight

Ten reasons I write

I’m talking about the poetry, fiction, even letters and blogging. My “personal” stuff, much more than anything I usually did at the office.

To remember.
To explore.
To play with language.
To connect.
To dialog with myself.
To read/share in public. To be part of a community.
To become visible, earn recognition in the now fading dream of fame.
As a form of prayer.
To better understand and appreciate other writers. See what makes their work tick from the inside.
To make money?

A squirrel-proof bird feeder. So this one becomes a gift for the birds, too, while greatly amusing us as we watch the furry tales in their frustration.
Electronics support, including an external speaker for my laptop and a smartphone.
Recordings and books. Even two exquisite journals from Venice! One year I got a big collection of CDs spanning the New York Philharmonic’s history, while another was CD copies of some of the earliest wax recordings. One gift was even Max Rudolf’s book, The Grammar of Conducting, along with a real baton.
Wool socks and other clothing. Yes, they are appreciated.
Lenses. My camera and fine binoculars. Plus a microscope, back when. Think it came from the Sears catalog.
Martini glasses. It’s a joke in our household. Oh, yes, the hand-carved olive skewer.
Indoor pool swim pass. Something I used almost daily.
Revels workshop, where I learned I could sing with the pros. Led me to become a charter member of the Revels Singers chorus in Boston.
Ceramic vase with a “frog” to hold a flower stem. It’s a great way to admire a single bloom close-up.
A mummy sleeping bag, still in use 45 years later. Yes, I know they make them lighter today, but this one has memories.

~*~

What gifts do you treasure?

Wake up and fill a mug with coffee.
Grab the paper from the front steps.
Do Spanish. (Not a bad way to wake up.)
Check emails, the blog, etc.
Clean the coffeemaker and refill for tomorrow.
Write, revise, whatever.
Household chores plus yardwork and errands.
Check the mail.
Try to get some exercise in. Laps in the pool, a hike up the hill, that sort of thing. Maybe followed by a nap.
Sit down together for a lovely dinner.

~*~

So much for the plans I’d set up for my retirement years. Extensive meditation, Bible study, copious reading?

What frames your days?

Random notes in no particular order:

Consider each chapter a movie – beginning, middle, and end – conflict and some resolution. Boy meets girl etc.
My characters don’t lie … it’s one of my defects.
Any time it sounds like writing, cut!
Always go for RIGHT BRAIN revisions
Each book is unique, special, fragile in its own way. Honor it.
Talk to your readers. Like in a smoky bar.
Rereading an old favorite, only to realize how much my own standards have risen.
Certainly, there is room for a range of Midwestern writing as well – and for recognition of the manifold subtleties among the smaller localities within that country. It ain’t as bland as you’d think.
“Riotous complexity moving swiftly within a basic unity” (from How the Irish Saved Civilization) … not a bad formula for creativity, is it?
What was I really hoping to accomplish, back when there were only 500 new novels a week?