Unexpected Returns

This is September's (and the three year anniversary!!!) post for IWSG...it's all about writers helping other writers.  And if you don't think it works, well, keep reading.  You can find more participants here.

This post is a thank you. 

 

All of you who read this know the ninja king, AlexCavanaugh, the master-mind behind IWSG and the A-Z Challenge and president of the online world in demonstrating kindness and spreading blogger high-fives. 

Here’s a story of how his giving actions led to more and more.  The ripple effect, if you will.

While I’m a loyal and diligent IWSG blogger, I have never participated in the A-Z, other than as a cheerleader to those who stay the course. It’s been fun over the years to read and appreciate the themes folks choose for the 26-day challenge. 

 

I’ve told you some of this before.  This year, Robin, from Your Daily Dose chose to feature other bloggers in her A-Z challenge by highlighting one of his or her previously published posts. I don’t include a lot of poems on Middle Passages, but a while ago, I posted one Robin liked, and she featured it during her A-Z.  Next thing I know, all sorts of people were visiting Middle Passages, having been driven there by Robin.  So that’s two thank you’s so far.  To Alex, for, well, everything, and to Robin caring so much and for tooting my horn.

Now here’s the rest of the story.

The same week Robin ran my poem, I received an email from Robyn, Life by Chocolate who’d seen my poem.  She told me about a project she was involved in, led by Julie, The Empty Nest Insider, and Susan I Think Therefore, I Yam.  These talented women were working on a compilation of poetry written by, ahem,  mature woman, and asked if they could use the poem they read on Robin’s blog.  Oh, and by the way, would I send more?  I was flattered.  Honored, really.  But then came the really good part.  Any proceeds from this self-published book (e-book  and paperback) will go to CARE International, a humanitarian agency.  How cool is that?  This is writerly networking and giving to the millionth degree.  From Alex to Robin and then to Robyn, to Julie and Susan, to me and best of all, proceeds to CARE.  That’s a lot more people to thank.

The whole thing has me tickled. I never considered a poem of mine would be seen anywhere but on this blog, and now I feel like they were written for a good cause, too.  

Old Broads Waxing Poetic will be released to the world on Friday, via a mini-blog fest.  So, may I ask you to come back then?  And before Friday, think about an “old broad” who means something to you.  Get ready to write about her in comment form.  Or in a poem if it suits you.  ‘Cuz yes, there will be copies of the book to be won.  And poetry to read.  And books to buy.  And people to be helped.  And more thank you's to be said.

Here’s a little blurb about CARE: 

Founded in 1945 with the creation of the CARE Package®, CARE is a leading humanitarian organization fighting global poverty. CARE places special focus on working alongside poor girls and women because, equipped with the proper resources, they have the power to lift whole families and entire communities out of poverty. Last year CARE worked in 84 countries and reached more than 83 million people around the world.

Keeping at it - IWSG November, 2013

This is my November post for Alex Cavanaugh's Insecure Writers' Support Group, where writers help writers.  For more posts, click here.

Only two weeks until my Grub Street workshop ends and I’m pondering how I'll feel the first Monday I don’t have class.  I’ve learned so much via these two courses, the most important of which is without ongoing, objective feedback, I slip into ugly habits.  I deluded myself, thinking if I read, read, read about the craft, I’d figure things out.  But now I know reading must be combined with regular, unbiased criticism.  Don’t get me wrong.  I've had critique partners, and before these workshops, I believed I acted upon their feedback relating to my shortcomings.  But when challenged to read five pages of my work in front of classmates as well as a direct and astute teacher/novelist, criticism takes on a more tangible quality. 

I am so not there, yet.  

Still, most times I leave class inspired.  Energized.  Thinking, I get it.  I can’t wait to try to work the suggestions into my story.  Did you notice the modifier?  Try?

It is so hard to do it right.

I bumped into a woman from my former writing group the other day.  She asked how the Grub Street workshop was going and I answered something like, “Ninety-five percent of the time, I leave class amazed at what I’ve learned.  Five percent of the time I leave thinking, God, I‘ll never to be able to do this.”

But after each session I drive home with this renewed commitment to sit down and edit the life into what I’m writing. To ratchet up the conflict. To pare down my description to one stellar phrase.  To consider pacing.  To make the dialogue more realistic.  To stop stage-directing my characters all over the story, to use all of my senses, and to place back story in increments, only where it belongs. 

I navigate the two-lane highway toward my house contemplating this:   

Every single word choice, sentence, paragraph, scene and chapter must move the story forward.  

Knowing that?

I try harder.