Tag Archives: novel

Purpose, habit

Today I made gazpacho, rice/corn salad, and a blueberry cake. Sometimes, that’s enough. I don’t mean enough to satisfy hunger but enough to create a container wherein purpose and comfort can dwell.

After the post about trump-fatigue, I had to ask: why do I do this? It’s not to afford others hope. It’s not to teach. I guess I don’t really know, but I’m pretty sure I do it for myself –perhaps with the hope that a few others find value?

Novel update: Conversion of font from Corbel to New Times Roman continues apace (industry standards). Some editing. Since I’m still not used to the modern convention of inserting only a single space between sentences, I’m closing ’em up where I catch an extra space.

Today, a few chronology issues needed sorting. And, the thing is too long.

Angel Oak, Johns Island, SC

But, I have momentum. Also, an unexpected (and pretty marvelous) thing is happening: I am in the story. Really in it. I don’t think I have been before.

So, even though the more I read about agents, the weaker I get in the knees, I don’t think fear will stop me.

When I found out I was pregnant with C, I was working in a women’s prison advocating for mothers. To calm my nerves about giving birth, I occasionally reminded myself that every single one of my clients had given birth. All of them. Surely, I could, too?

That’s not meant to be uncharitable, although the literary corollary is. The corollary says: There are a lot of bad books in the world and THEY somehow got published. Maybe I can be, too.

Drayton Hall, on the Ashley River outside of Charleston

Old map of Charleston

Magnolia Plantation, on the Ashley River outside of Charleston, SC

Have a wonderful Sunday!

Nothing is simple

Such a crashing week of news. One terrible revelation after another. I am gritting my teeth waiting for this tax bill to pass. And that might not be the worst thing happening this week. The FCC. Tom Cotton? The hateful, incendiary retweets. Sexual assault wall to wall.

On a personal front, there was also disappointment: a work place slow down for one of my sons. Money and more money flowing out from here to there. Unsustainable.

Good news? Is there any? It could be that the writing is chugging along with a kind of sparking determination. I’m hard at switching the chapters told in third person close narrative to first person, did I say? There’s a lot behind that. Years of thought actually. And it’s happening with a kind of forward movement that is energizing. Lending coherence.

For years, writing the enslaved characters from first person seemed an impossibility. I built in some distance out of respect. I thought. Then it started to seem like cowardly avoidance. Respectful/Cowardly. Back and forth that went. The debate about Sofia Coppola’s remake of the Civil War movie “The Beguiled” (in which she wrote out the black character, thinking she wouldn’t do the character justice) was a tipping point.*

* the specific debate that was most compelling can be heard here on the podcast “still processing“.

Writing this after midnight.

Here, too is a link to It’s Crow Time blog, where Mo posted about my pennant’s progress for the “I Dream of a World Where Love is the Answer” project. How her summary and the comments uplifted! I want them handy for the next time I sail into the doldrums.

Today, I stitched more than twenty red beads onto the walnut-dyed covering cloth. They look beautiful.

balance

glassball-deemallonThe leaf blowers blow. The dog goes nuts seeing another dog. My sister announces she is going back to bed. Twitter turns unbearable. Coffee cools and I need to get going.

But before I head to Salem, I just want to say THANK YOU to all the readers of this blog and those of you producing your own work and posts because I am so, so grateful for this circle… how it holds me, informs me, and helps me to grow. This community stretches across national boundaries and feels particularly worthy when the world reveals how fragile and fraught with hate it is. 

I wish my pace and rhythm here were more sustained, but — you know — stuff keeps getting in the way. Happily, one of the things taking my attention right now is reading through the 400+ pages that I’ve written over the last three years for my fiction project (single spaced!!). Someone said (Natalie Goldberg?) that when she gets a student writing a novel she just wishes them a good journey, because it is like sailing out into the wide, wide ocean alone. Yes. And seeing two binders full of printed pages has provided an island for me to step on for the moment. I can turn and see where I’ve been and I have a little less panic about getting back in the boat and continuing toward the far shore.  

Joy — kickstarter campaign 103% funded in two days!!

14" x 14", 2002 or 2003

14″ x 14″, 2002 or 2003


 

I am 91% funded!!!  Make that over goal.  By the afternoon, I hit 103% funded!!

This is me jumping for joy (actually, it’s Cary, about 12 years ago) — but you get the idea.  Thank you Thank you Thank you — to all of you who have contributed to my kickstarter campaign. It is remarkable to feel this support pouring in!

Do you know that Sea Island Indigo will be using indigo with provenance dating back to Eliza Lucas Pinckney’s day?!!  How cool would that be — to actually work with plants that are connected genetically to the 1740’s?

My going to this workshop feels almost as fortuitous as Eliza studying at a boarding school in England that was gifted a greenhouse when the childless next-door neighbor died.  I look at that stroke of fortune and wonder, how much flowed from that — for surely she must have discovered her love of horticulture then.
tugged-on-the-lineI just revised the campaign and it is much better now — more about my project and why the trip would be a boon, and a little less about the indigo workshop itself.  Even if you’ve been, take a second look.

Thank you, Jude, for putting me on your sidebar.  The metrics of my site show me where the donors are coming from — and your link matters (of course it matters!)

This whole process has been kind of unbelievable to me.

Thank you. Thank you.

Ken and I are heading up to Salem today.  It promises to be cooler than yesterday, which is good, because we will be rearranging furniture (among other things) at my sister’s. I am disappointed that I managed to visit Salem almost every week during the Peabody Museum’s Turner exhibit and missed it.

But with this kickstarter news, I won’t be feeling that disappointment for long!