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| From Blacktail Mountain, Lakeside, MT |
Fall in Montana. Flathead Lake has been mired in fog for two days, but just a few miles away to the west you can climb out and above the fog. Hiking today above the clouds.
Sunday, October 27, 2013
Monday, October 7, 2013
Fall Books
The summer beach-read/blockbuster book season has passed and the mass market Christmas season is coming up, but fall is here and it's filled with some new offerings by stand-out writers who are still brave enough to make readers think. As many readers of serious literature know, fall tends to be filled with great new books and this fall is shaping up to have many excellent choices. Look for new titles from that iconic farmer/philosopher Wendell Berry http://www.wendellberrybooks.com/ ; another glimpse into the wonderfully strange mind of Chuck Palahniuk http://chuckpalahniuk.net/ ; a new novel from Nobel winner J.M. Coetzee, as well as work from the extremely talented son of my all time favorite, Andre Dubus--Andre Dubus III http://andredubus.com/ . Pair that with offerings last month with a new book from the likes of Jumpa Lahiri, and as the nights cool and you begin to use the fireplace again, you've got some great reading ahead.Friday, October 4, 2013
Musing on Confluence
Perhaps because I have recently moved to a new state, perhaps because I have been long absent from this blog, perhaps because I have been given the gift of writing time once again, I've been musing a bit on the title of this blog--"Confluence Musings". Now, when I speak of confluence, of course I have in mind a whole lot of metaphoric meanings beyond the literal notion of rivers merging--the confluence of minds, of ideas, of viewpoints, to name a few.
But of course the literal meaning of confluence remains important to me as well, for I try to stay conscious of my dependence on the natural world, both literally in the sustenance of life, my life and all life, and sustainability of a healthy mind as well, which, for me, means not only consciousness about my interactions with the natural world but steady doses of living actively within it. As mentioned, I have recently relocated, trading one specific geographical place for another, once point of confluence, literally, for another. For the last several years I have lived within a mile of the confluence of the Snake, Greys, and Salt Rivers. I now live on the shore of Flathead Lake, not so far from the confluence of the Flathead, Stillwater, and Whitefish Rivers. Indeed, my wife now works of an institution that takes its name from the fact of that confluence.
I suspect most of us do not live that far from river confluences, but too often take them for granted or have urbanized them beyond recognition. Yet, contemplating a river, there is something remarkable when one thinks about all the land, all that land touches in a watershed, all the water and all that it carries passing by in an endless march, a realization that is heightened when seeing one river meet another and watching those waters join and blend.
That's what I am interested in with people and with ideas as well, those points where they meet and interact, for sometimes confluence does happen and we find new ways to move forward, informed by new waters, finding our common roots and shared ideas, learning ways to work together.
But of course the literal meaning of confluence remains important to me as well, for I try to stay conscious of my dependence on the natural world, both literally in the sustenance of life, my life and all life, and sustainability of a healthy mind as well, which, for me, means not only consciousness about my interactions with the natural world but steady doses of living actively within it. As mentioned, I have recently relocated, trading one specific geographical place for another, once point of confluence, literally, for another. For the last several years I have lived within a mile of the confluence of the Snake, Greys, and Salt Rivers. I now live on the shore of Flathead Lake, not so far from the confluence of the Flathead, Stillwater, and Whitefish Rivers. Indeed, my wife now works of an institution that takes its name from the fact of that confluence.
That's what I am interested in with people and with ideas as well, those points where they meet and interact, for sometimes confluence does happen and we find new ways to move forward, informed by new waters, finding our common roots and shared ideas, learning ways to work together.
Thursday, January 3, 2013
Sunday, December 11, 2011
On Days You Are Feeling "Small"
Some wonderful writing advice from writer Sean Ferrell for those times you are convinced you can't carry on writing any longer.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
When You Are Struggling to Stay in a Writing Routine
The other day a good friend and former student (thanks, Jessika) emailed asking for the name of a classmate who had a writing process she had always remembered. I came up with the name almost immediately (something nothing short of astonishing given my poor recall for names). I remembered likely because this classmate's writing ritual is one I shared frequently with other classes through the years. I tended to rely on this story when students were full of complaints about writing blocks, or when they simply weren't producing. Call it motivation; call it embarrassment; call it what you will. They tended to remember her story, as I have, all through these years.
She remains an inspiration to me. Her name is Leslie. When Leslie was my student, she had returned to college a couple of years before after taking some time off having nearly failed college once before. In the intervening years she had served her country in the military, she'd married, had become a mother. When I knew her she volunteered an extraordinary number of hours at a local middle school on top of her own courses. She worked evenings delivering pizzas. She raised children. Several times a week she drove one son over an hour to the nearest city with a good children's hospital for leukemia treatments. She was a remarkable student and a remarkable woman. She was serious about school and she was serious about her writing.
Taking me at my word about the need for consistent work habits as a writer, that year she set her alarm to go off early in the morning. I mean early. Like 4:00 or 4:30 such that she could get some writing time in before the rest of the house woke up and she had to start making breakfast and kid's lunches and get ready for her own long days. One of her sons caught on to her quickly and soon tried to join his mom in the early morning dark and quiet, brought with him his own pen and pad and wanted to join her in writing. She insisted that he needed his sleep. And since the plan for alone time to think and to write hadn't panned out, she left the house. She started writing in the play fort her husband had constructed at the top of the slide for the kids. This was Colorado in the winter. It can get cold in a Colorado winter. Her methodology: for every page she wrote, she rewarded herself with another blanket.
And how she wrote. Before the semester was done, not only was her growth as a writer with each piece she submitted to the class, she sold a piece to a national magazine.
My charge to future students was simple: if Leslie could find a way to write, they could.
On the bad days, I remember her lesson for myself. I have time now. I have a warm place, indeed a room dedicated to nothing but writing. I don't have a child battling cancer. If Leslie can write, I can find a way to write today.
She remains an inspiration to me. Her name is Leslie. When Leslie was my student, she had returned to college a couple of years before after taking some time off having nearly failed college once before. In the intervening years she had served her country in the military, she'd married, had become a mother. When I knew her she volunteered an extraordinary number of hours at a local middle school on top of her own courses. She worked evenings delivering pizzas. She raised children. Several times a week she drove one son over an hour to the nearest city with a good children's hospital for leukemia treatments. She was a remarkable student and a remarkable woman. She was serious about school and she was serious about her writing.
Taking me at my word about the need for consistent work habits as a writer, that year she set her alarm to go off early in the morning. I mean early. Like 4:00 or 4:30 such that she could get some writing time in before the rest of the house woke up and she had to start making breakfast and kid's lunches and get ready for her own long days. One of her sons caught on to her quickly and soon tried to join his mom in the early morning dark and quiet, brought with him his own pen and pad and wanted to join her in writing. She insisted that he needed his sleep. And since the plan for alone time to think and to write hadn't panned out, she left the house. She started writing in the play fort her husband had constructed at the top of the slide for the kids. This was Colorado in the winter. It can get cold in a Colorado winter. Her methodology: for every page she wrote, she rewarded herself with another blanket.
And how she wrote. Before the semester was done, not only was her growth as a writer with each piece she submitted to the class, she sold a piece to a national magazine.
My charge to future students was simple: if Leslie could find a way to write, they could.
On the bad days, I remember her lesson for myself. I have time now. I have a warm place, indeed a room dedicated to nothing but writing. I don't have a child battling cancer. If Leslie can write, I can find a way to write today.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
bioStories Call for Submissions
http://www.newpages.com/classifieds/calls/. Please consider submitting.
Visit bioStories at http://www.biostories.com/
Artwork to the left appears on the site and is by my daughter, Jennifer Leichliter.
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