Do you have a song? One particular song that represents the beginning or flowering of your romance. How did it become your song? Do you play it on special occasions? Or do you just remember vividly when you chance to hear it?
What is it about music that speaks to us so powerfully?
I don’t understand it, but that power isn’t new. Archeologists have found flutes made of bones and mammoth ivory that are over 40,000 years old. But instruments and song may be older than that. Charles Darwin, in The Descent of Man, suggested that our language abilities may have started with singing–a long and deep foundation for our pleasure in music.
Scientist say that making music aids in the development of reasoning and language, improves coordination and creative thinking among other things. And most of us began learning reading skills by singing the ABCs. We tend to remember what we learn through song.
Who hasn’t experienced that vivid, sensual (in the context of senses) memory brought through music? Do you remember tastes, colors, smells associated with certain music?
A few years ago, my husband and I attended the funeral for the mother of a good friend of his. He had spent a lot of time in their home, and she had made him feel a part of their family. The funeral was a sweet tribute to her and a celebration of her life.
Gideon’s Quilt
I was touched me by the stories that her grandchildren told of letters she sent to them on their birthdays every year. In those once a year birthday letters she would reminisce about what she did and how she felt when she was their age. What a precious gift this woman left to her children and grandchildren.
I would like to say that I started right then to write birthday letters to my grandchildren. I didn’t. First, I’m not sure I could remember enough about my childhood to accurately describe what I did and how I felt. And I felt a little like I was starting too late (which looking back I realize is ridiculous). Regardless, I didn’t do it.
What special, personal, intimate gifts you give to your loved ones-your family, your dear friends? I’d love to hear from you.
Luciana’s Quilt
One thing I have done is make a quilt for each of my grandbabies. I haven’t always been timely with this gift, but before they turn two, they have a quilt from Mimi.
Taze’s Quilt
Juniper’s Quilt
In my family, this has been an exercise in quilt binging because the babies seem to come in batches. So a few years ago and again this last two months, I made five baby quilts.
I hope you enjoy seeing what I do when I’m not writing, researching, or reading.
Recently Fiddler on the Roof came up in a conversation with my granddaughter. The chorus of this song has been running through my mind ever since:
Sunrise, sunset Sunrise, sunset Swiftly flow the days Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers Blossoming even as we gaze
Sunrise, sunset Sunrise, sunset Swiftly fly the years One season following another Laiden with happiness and tears
SUNRISE, SUNSET Composed By Jerry Bock, Lyrics By Sheldon Harnick
As the evening air begins to cool and the trees change colors in the mountains, I’ve been looking back. It’s been a full summer. Many of you have posted your hikes, vacations, family reunions, milestones. Some have shared struggles or illness, sadness or doubts. I’ve had a little of both happiness and tears this summer too.
As the season changes, take a moment with me and measure how far you’ve come. Did you try something new this summer or take a next step on our planned journey? Or have you experienced one of those surprising twists that changed your direction and forced you to make new plans? What have you learned? How have you changed? I’d love to hear about it. Comment below.
And I invite you to write about it. Amazing insights and even more growth happen when I write my thoughts and experiences.
Now look forward with me. More than January, September always feels like the beginning of a new year. What do you want to happen this Fall/Winter? What do you want to learn? What habits to establish? What relationships to build, heal, or improve? What do you want to accomplish spiritually, socially, physically, intellectually/mentally? I’d love to hear about this too.
Swiftly flow the days Swiftly fly the years One season following another Laiden with happiness and tears
SUNRISE, SUNSET By Jerry Bock and Sheldon Harnick
Maybe–I hope–if we take a few moments to think about, write about, talk about the past season and the one coming, the passage of time won’t seem such a blur. We can make time slow down. We can twist it and turn it, look at it from all sides and from the inside out.
It might only be for a few moments and then time will speed up again and we’ll be right in the middle of the movement and sound and demands of our lives, but maybe it will all look just a little different after our step out of time.
Take a breath. Maybe another.
Okay. Back to life. I look forward to a new season of growth with you.
We also had a family reunion. Health kept my father from attending, but all my siblings were there. Most of their children (and ours) were there. Most of their grandchildren (and ours) were there. We have not been together for–well, I can’t remember the last time. We talked, we reminisced, we played games, we took family pictures in a cow pasture. It was so much fun.
While we were gone, our basement flooded–a lot! Two of our sons pulled back the carpet, vacuumed the water, and started the fans. Then they came down to the reunion.
Then on the way home, another son had car trouble. So, we stopped at the cabin and spent the night. The next day we loaded his car on the trailer and started home together.
The story isn’t finished. On the way home, our pick-up threw a rod. I hate that I know what this is. I hope you never find out. I will tell you this: The pick-up is dead. The only way to fix it is to rebuild the engine or replace it. (And it is an older, high mileage truck. It’s not worth doing).
This meant that another of our sons had to come to the little town about 40 miles from home and hook the trailer up to his vehicle and tow it home.
We got home and the basement had flooded again. And today, with the help of one of our sons, we get to go and pick up the useless pick-up.
And I haven’t even mentioned the cost of this little weekend. Nor the fact that I somehow left my phone at the cabin, nor the complaint of one neighbor that caused the city to send us a notice about parking our trailer, when it’s not at the cabin, by the side of our house.
Two paragraphs about some really great things. Seven about some really awful things. But the good things were amazing, and look at how lucky we are to have four of our five living sons available and so willing to give us a hand. That has to be added to the good things, doesn’t it?
Still, I find myself thinking more about how to work through and recover from all the bad luck, and not nearly enough time remembering the good stuff.
How do you do it? Because, let’s be honest. Somehow this bad stuff will pass. We’ll fix the basement. We’ll live without a pick-up for awhile until we can save some money and find one we can afford. (We gotta have one while we’re renovating the cabin). Life will go on, and mostly our life is pretty wonderful. So how do we remember that? How do we think more on the connections with our family, and our achievements, and the kindness of friends and neighbors (who offer to help and loan us their chains and come-alongs)?
I’m sitting in my very comfortable living room in my really beautiful house, with a computer on my lap, and I’m writing. That needs to go in the good column. I am pretty healthy. In a few minutes I’ll go into the kitchen and eat. There is food in my kitchen–plenty really. We have a car. We have work we enjoy, mostly. We have family and friends. We have a lifetime of rich experiences and joyful memories.
Bad stuff happens, sure. And this isn’t anywhere near the worst we’ve experienced. But we have so much good in our life. I want to remember that, even in the midst of the difficult times. How do you do it?
Always family! But for us, July has become a month of increased family togetherness. This means food and talk and a hundred, okay up to 23, kids running around.
We celebrate our country’s birth with games, fireworks, and more food.
Jordan and Natalie for the Corn; Trevor is the man on the smoker.
Savannah made the rolls
Lexy made the salad;
And for most of the month, I will only write in small pockets of time when things are quiet, or I can sit in a corner (often in the middle of confusion) and ignore the present world and go to Regency England in my mind. The last novel in my Illusions series will inch along through the month of July, but I’ll enjoy my family.
I wish you a happy fourth of July! I hope you’re with people you love, in a comfortable place, with good food to eat.
She is an adventurous one, and a planner. (This makes it sooo easy for me). So the two of us flew to the coast and spent a few days adventuring as she had planned.
We walked through Balboa Park. We ate and shopped in the Gaslamp quarter. We spent a day on Coronado (more about that later). We went to the beach in La Jolla.
But a definite highlight of the trip was the day we sailed out to go whale watching. And please if you go to San Diego, you should definitely go out with these guys: https://nextlevelsailing.com/
They were great. The sailboat was incredibly beautiful. Seeing the whales was amazing. The whole day was indescribably wonderful.
I was fascinated and watched closely as the crew lifted the sails. (Maybe I could write off the cost of the trip as research. After all my main character in The Lies We Tell–which goes live in the next two or three weeks–must sail a boat for a short distance along the Southern English coast). Her sailboat is much smaller of course, but I got a taste of what she would see and hear and feel. I loved the whip and crack of the wind in the sails, the rolling and rocking of the deck as the waves beat against the hull. And the sky and the sea were breathtakingly expansive, in a way I don’t think you could ever get on land.
It did make me wonder, as we watched a rare Sunfish breach and the dolphins race along with us, and of course as the two blue whales crested and fluked, what would my characters see in the English channel. Since coming home I’ve looked into it a little. I’ve included many of the birds and animals along the coast. But in the sea, my heroine might see dolphins and porpoises. A Minke whale sighting is not uncommon in the English channel.
Now, Amelia doesn’t go far from the coast, but Sidonie, the main character in The Masks We Wear (Book three of the Illusions series, coming this fall) will be secretly crossing the channel into Napoleonic France. Maybe in the quiet of her night’s crossing, she should see a whale. After my birthday adventure, I’m inclined to give her that awe-inspiring experience.
I’d love to hear your experiences on the ocean. Or if you experience vicariously, what books have you read that have a good sailing scene in them?
More than a year ago, two of our sons started a discussion about singer-songwriters. Nathan believes Stevie Wonder is the best. Jordan doesn’t agree. He cited Bob Dylan and James Taylor, and all folk/country artists as contenders.
1967 Nationaal Archief
In defense, Nate quoted Elton John and Bob Dylan, talking about Stevie Wonder, crediting him with changing music for all time. Our “Stevie Wonder supporters” said that in “centuries to come” people will talk about Louis Armstrong, Duke Ellington, Ray Charles and Stevie Wonder.
1963 USIA
The discussion has spread over the year. We had a recent extended family What’sApp exchange where Trevor joined the discussion as another Stevie Wonder advocate. Jordan added Paul Simon and The Beach Boys to his list. And then he pulled out the Dolly Parton argument (She has written 3000 songs, released 956 of them, 25 of them #1 songs).
Brendan joined the discussion, supporting Jordan. “He (Stevie) is fine, but he’s no Mozart.” Natalie lightened the tone of the discussion by suggesting we should consider Justin Beiber (with special reference to these lyrics: Baby, baby, baby, oh).
Trevor made a spreadsheet comparing Stevie, Dolly, Bob Dylan, James Taylor, and Paul McCartney. (Yes. He made a spreadsheet). And Nate said this (and I’m so proud of his use of descriptive language), “Stevie Wonder’s albums . . . are just an inimitable artistic achievement. It’s the Sistine chapel of American popular music.”
At Sunday dinner this week, Devon joined the discussion, also as a Stevie Wonder fan, and we spent the final hour or so of our time together listening to some of his music. (Jordan wasn’t present, so no one complained).
I’m not a musician, but I do believe lyricists are today’s poets, and when they write well, it’s an unparalleled delight. As a budding writer, I am in awe at the power and beauty of well-written lyrics. So I’m enjoying the conversation, and the passion behind it.
And I’m interested. What does your family discuss–over extended time and with real fervor?
And a last question (okay 2 questions), who is your favorite lyricist? And what is your vote for the best song lyrics? Those lyrics that just speak beauty/power to you?
In my mind, there is an ideal family meal. The details aren’t detailed and clear, but I always hope a nice family meal will build or strengthen or heal–that during our time together, our conversation will bring us closer. Is it the same for you? Do you plan, shop, and cook with the hopes that something truly special and memorable will happen when everyone sits down to eat? Does it, at least sometimes, happen for you?
I’ve been thinking about family meals, mine and the ideal (which are not always the same). I’ve been thinking, not just about Thanksgiving, but everyday meals too. It’s on my mind because we are in Texas this Thanksgiving, helping our son and his family move. I don’t know yet what we’ll do for that important meal, but I’m excited to spend it with this family that we will see less often–and have around our table less often, now that they will be living at such distance.
But our indefinite plans for Thanksgiving made me think about family meals, why they are important to me and what I always hope happens at our family meals. And that made me remember some movie family meal scenes that I love. And for some reason, I do love a good family meal scene.
I’ll share a few examples. In “While You Were Sleeping” Peter’s family gathers for a ‘late’ Christmas dinner. The cross talk, the family shorthand, the teasing, good-natured arguing, prying–the love–it’s all there. I love it. “These potatoes are so creamy . . . Mary mashed them.” And “Would you want to see Dustin Hoffman save the Alamo?” No one is really listening to each other, but the important things get communicated.
Another meal scene I think is a masterpiece is the breakfast scene at the end of “Moonstruck.” In fact, I watch the whole movie and then I rewind and watch the breakfast scene again. I love the moments when no one is speaking, but everyone is looking at each other. Their looks say it all. “What is going on? Can you believe this? What now? Does he/she know? Secrets, betrayal, accusation, forgiveness, broken engagement, proposal, but most of all love.
My appreciation for these scenes is a paradox. I love them because they feel familiar and real, and I love them because they are not like anything I’ve experienced, and they are hilarious. I know a screenwriter wrote those scenes, a director and the actors interpreted. Someone lit them; someone filmed, and many more people had a part in the creation of those few moments that invite us into the intimacy of someone else’s family meal.
I’d like to have y’all come and share a family meal with me. Impossible I know, but I would love it. And I’d love a family meal scene in more books that I read. Is it possible to write one that captures the idiosyncrasies and rhythms and unique language of a family? Have you read a book with an engaging family meal scene? If you have, I want the title/author. And I’d love to read your experience around your table.
Ghosts? Ghouls? Witches? Demons? Scary movies? Candy and more candy? Does that sound fun to you?
How about orange, black, purple and neon green? That’s enough to give anyone nightmares, although I suppose that’s the point.
In case you haven’t guessed yet, I’ve never been a fan of this particular holiday.
Along with the above mentioned highlights of the season, there is what for me was always a mad scramble to make costumes for my multitude of children. And my children never wanted to be a ghost or a witch. Some of the random, unique costumes in our family history include: Paul Bunyon (we were reading a book), Mona Lisa (complete with frame), a toilet (candy went into the bowl), and as weird as it sounds, Ghengis Khan. I’m pretty sure our neighbors didn’t always recognize what they were seeing.
We used what we had and needed a lot of creativity. Okay, looking back I kind of liked this part of Halloween. We made some good family memories creating our children’s vision from what we had around the house. However, I do remember being especially frustrated because the day before Halloween, the weather would turn, and the costumes would be covered with coats.
One year I made the mistake of sewing a Legolas costume for our youngest son, who was six at the time. You must understand that we are one of those zealous Lord of the Rings fan families. We are passionate about the book and the movie, and I got a little carried away. I researched costumes from the movies and tried to be as authentic as my limited funds and time would allow, even down to sewing the leaf motif on the hem of the tunic. Mr. Watson even got into the spirit and made two wood swords and helped me with the bow, arrows and quiver.
Ever after, this particular son thought this detailed and accurate kind of costume was the norm. One year he wanted to be a War of 1812 soldier. I ask you, War of 1812? (which by the way falls right in the Regency period, which is where I’m spending a lot of time these days, but I don’t want to make the clothes. I’ll just mention details from time to time in my books). Poor disappointed Devon. He had to be a WWI bomber pilot that year because someone gave us a leather jacket.
So, if you ask I will probably tell you that this is my least favorite holiday, but while I write I realize that I do like the costumes, the drama, and the imagination of Halloween. I like the misty, brooding, atmospheric mystery of the season.
I like some of the literature that comes to mind–notably Frankenstein and the poetry of Edgar Allen Poe. I even binge watched Stranger Things. And this year I’m loving these fabulous eerie photos taken by our very gifted photographer daughter @cheznousimages
Okay, maybe I do like some aspects of Halloween. Just not the candy, more candy, and the colors.
What are you doing to stay sane during Covid? I see masses of walkers/joggers, bikers and skateboarders out on the trail behind my home. The roads to and from the canyons in the mountains around us are busier than the freeway during rush hour. It’s always wonderful when the weather improves in the spring and we can comfortably out in nature. But this year, it felt like release from a prison.
I think many people must be finding some sanity in working in their homes and gardens. Every time we go to the local home improvement stores, the parking lots are packed. And my friends have posted some wonderful projects they have completed since the beginning of this virus. There aren’t many things more satisfying than completing a project. I’m pretty excited about some of my own projects. (A confession: sometimes I wonder if my projects are more in the nature of avoidance rather than healthy pastime). Regardless, completing any project can be very exhilarating. There is a definite shot of dopamine when I step back and see a finished work. (Below: my reupholstered chairs for the cabin)
These are effective ways to stay mentally healthy, but there is another way I want to talk about today.
Graham Greene said, “Writing is a form of therapy; sometimes I wonder how all those who do not write, compose or paint can manage to escape the madness, melancholia, the panic and fear which is inherent in a human situation.” And he wasn’t in the middle of Covid 19.
Raymond Feist said, “I won’t say that writing is therapy, but for me, the act of writing is therapy. The ability to be productive is good for my mental health. It’s always better for me to be writing than vegetating on some couch.”
Their experience is supported by research.
Ashley Stahl wrote an article in Forbes on the benefits of creativity. She listed five benefits of being creative. It increases happiness, reduces dementia, improves mental health, boosts the immune system, increases intelligence. These are benefits I want, regardless of situation, but they seem especially necessary now.
So for us writers or aspiring writers, this is the time to write more. Not only do we have more time (I will feel terrible if when we are once again involved in life on a wider scale I look back and all I have done is watch Netflix and read brain candy-both enjoyable pastimes, true-but not if that’s all we do), but writing will make us more healthy, more happy, more sane.
So, what are you writing? When? Has your writing schedule changed during covid? What do you do to combat the temptation to procrastinate–when every day is the same and you know you’ll have lots of time tomorrow, how do you motivate yourself to write today?
Alice Walker said, “whenever you are creating beauty around you, you are restoring your own soul.” And Kurt Vonnegut said, “To practice any art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow.”
So–Let’s paint something. Sew something. Cook something. Play music or move to music. Build something. Create. But most of all, let’s write something.
