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Writing a Book and My Inspiration List

November 3, 2015

mary oliver the world I live in

 

“A book writes itself. You are just the hand that puts everything on paper.” – Bangambiki Habyarimana

 

The first time I wrote a book, I had the story rolling around in my bones for years. And then one day, I came out of a meditation with a whole first line and a character and a voice, and within 5 minutes, I sat down to write. It was a difficult, ten year process from that moment to the moment of publication. A process that mostly involved me wrestling with my own fear and demons. But in the end, I wrote a book!

Three days ago I sat down to begin NaNoWriMo. I had an idea and a character, but it never felt right enough to start – so I didn’t. I thought that the problem was me. Within ten minutes of sitting down to begin writing, my idea and my character went out the window. A voice came through and demanded to tell the story herself. She has been talking ever since – and it’s all I can do to keep up. I don’t know where it is going, but after more than 6,000 words, I don’t think she is going to give me up anytime soon. I feel possessed.

When I wrote the last book, I wrote in the mornings before work. I thought that that is when I write the best, so when I found myself finally sitting down in the late afternoon on the first, I thought I had already messed things up. Turns out this character likes to work as the sun goes down.

So all bets are off.

Why am I telling you this? Because I want you to know that there are no rules to writing. There are no shoulds or have-tos when it comes to creation.  The important thing is that you show up. Show up and see what happens. Sometimes what happens is magic.

 


 

In the past few months, lots of inspiration has come my way, and it’s not just any inspiration, but deep, rich, honest calling outs; the rallying call of wild women from all over the internet. So rather than keeping them all to myself, I thought I would add my voice to the call. Because every woman joining the call makes it louder.

And every woman creating from that place makes better art.

Mary Oliver’s new book of poetry. The poem above speaks to my soul. I am all about the Maybe.

How to Talk to Your Muse – Chris Zydel

The Year of the She Wolf – Anna Lovind

What it Takes to Write – Pixie Lighthorse

When You Write – Mary Beth Bonfiglio

The Year of the Witch – Pamela J Grossman

Why We Remember – Briana Saussy

Big Magic – Elizabeth Gilbert

Distaff Lines – another word for matrilineal lines.

Tokens – Your Edge. Our Edge. Dragonfly. by Maya Hackett

Burning Times – National Film Board of Canada (+ the other two films in this series on women’s spirituality.)

Today I Rise – an amazing amazing video. If you watch nothing else, watch this and the next one on the list.

Ms Marianne Williamson raising the call like no one else can.

My Sacred Feminine Pinterest Board has so so much more inspiration from so many more women.

And this may not seem like a rallying call – but I am binge watching Nashville as a way to cleanse my mental palate. Sometimes soft and sweet is just as inspirational.

So what inspires YOU? Please let me know. I’d love to add to this list!

xo

 

writing

Create it. Who are you not to?

October 29, 2015

“Art is not meant to be created in stolen moments only.” ~ Clarissa Pinkola Estes

I used to think that when I had more time, I would write. I used to think that when I moved, had the right desk, the right space, and uninterrupted hours, that I would naturally get back to writing my next book.

Turns out that even when you change everything, you don’t change. You still have the same fears and hang-ups and worries and silly inner voices that you have always had. They don’t go away. They get louder.

When I had a boss and was a boss, I had externally imposed deadlines. I had people counting on me for answers and figures and decisions and ideas. I had to be prepared and excited and inspired and armed with information. I had to turn up. There was no room for my fears of not being good enough. There was no room for insecurities. There was absolutely no room for ‘who do you think you are?’

Which brings me to today. To here. To the edge of the writing of my next book. I’ve started it dozens of times. I even have the beginning written. In fact, I sent the first page to a few friends to read and heard back from them that it was really powerful and they couldn’t wait to read more.

So of course, I stopped writing. I panicked. Because who do I think I am to write about the things that will come up in this book? Who am I to write about women and power and witchcraft and ancestral lines and matrilineal wounds and magic?

But the signs kept coming. Write it. Write the Book. Follow this path where it leads. You’ve been chosen to write this.

Who am I?

I am a woman who is inspired to write a story. And that story is about women and power and witchcraft and ancestral lines and matrilineal wounds and magic. It found me. It asked to be written.

Who am I to deny it? To turn it down? To not write it?

And so I am here to tell you that I am writing it. And because I (apparently) need some structure and a deadline, I have signed up for NaNoWriMo this year. So I will not be here very much in November, because I will be writing.

Who I am not to?

I’m going in.

xo

P.S. What creation or inspiration are you avoiding? Who are you not to?

Brave

Chicken: The International Language

October 15, 2015

 

san isidro meghan genge

Courage is found in unlikely places. ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

When I was working on my Bachelor of Education, I was lucky enough to do one of my teaching placements at an International School in Singapore. It was my first (and only) time in Asia. I remember getting off of the plane and feeling like I had landed on Mars. The heat was astonishing, and that coupled with the jet lag made everything feel even more foreign than it truly was.

I was also lucky because I got to stay with a very old friend. She and her boyfriend made sure that I had a wonderful experience. But – perhaps sadly – one of my most vivid memories is a strange one.

They decided that we needed to go to Chinatown for dinner. They both had obviously been there many times, so they left me to decide on what to eat while they both bought their favourites. Honestly? It was one of the scariest moments of my life. There were dead cooked things hanging everywhere, stalls were filled with piles of – what? I didn’t know. Different colours, different smells, different languages all tangled around me and I felt the beginnings of a panic attack. I had no idea what to do.

Then, there in the middle of the crazy, stood a very small Chinese man. He looked up at me, smiled, and said, “chicken rice?” I could have hugged him. It turns out he spoke very little other english, but boy did know enough to take care of frightened tourists.

I think about that man a lot. To me, he was an angel. Others would have passed right by him as they excitedly chose something from one of the stalls. Flying on my own to Singapore? Easy. Choosing a mystery meat to eat? Terrifying.

I thought about this again yesterday when we were in San Isidro. A man we know recommended a place for us to go for lunch. It turned out to be inside a covered market. The noise, the smells, the smallness of the space, all felt very overwhelming, but we stayed. We were definitely the only non-locals in the place. We were all staring up at the menu when a man came over – smiled – and looked at me and said, “pollo y vegetales?” Translation: chicken and vegetables? Turns out he didn’t speak very much english either, but again, he knew just what to say.

And he sure made me grin: I’ve come a long way, but it’s nice to know that the angels are still looking after me.

Bravery. Something you may think is easy, I may find terrifying. It doesn’t make my brave any less brave. Getting on a plane, taking a chance, creating the thing, getting out of bed, loving, leaving, staying, dancing, speaking, taking the leap, facing the spider – it all matters, because it’s all brave.

I have learned that if you step into your bravery, the angels appear.

Even if it is just to offer you some chicken.

xo