The BIG Review of Flowers in the Attic

Flowers in the Attic by V.C. Andrews




This is a book I read when I was in the sixth grade--it was not for sixth graders, which made it all the more fascinating. Then I read the whole series and everything I could find by V.C. Andrews. Even after she died. Until realized (ninth grade or thereabouts) that the plots were all the same, and the love affair between V.C. Andrews and me (albeit one sided) was over.

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The BIG Review of Punkzilla

Punkzilla by Adam Rapp


My rating: 3 of 5 stars
Parts of Punkzilla's adventure were heartbreaking, and some seemed a bit too fabricated, but the bottom line is that Rapp does an excellent job of what can happen when parents put pressure on their children. In some ways it seemed like Rapp had a smattering of characters in his head that wanted out, but he didn't have a lot of future direction for them. Punk's journey to his brother is one to remember.

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The BIG Review of Going Bovine

Going Bovine by Libba Bray


My rating: 4 of 5 stars
This book was an awesome adventure; Bray does a wonderful job capturing the spirits of some outlandish characters, and gives Cameron the best lesson of all: Live.

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Composting

When I first read this, I thought it said "Composing," but no :)
"Our senses by themselves are dumb" (14). Oh so true. This passage is about the waiting that writers must do. Betsy talks about a similar situation in yoga all the time. In any/everything people do, practice must happen for a skill, essay, or poem to shine through. We cannot, as Goldberg states, write about something as we are going through it. We must do so after we have some distance.

Of course there are paths, right? Like when my mom was slipping away, I was furiously scribbling about every intense feeling I had. Everything I thought and felt and wanted to scream and wanted to say poured into a hot pink notebook. For two weeks I laid on a hospital bed and talked to my mom through my notebook. At the time, I never thought I would survive or be able to do anything except think about it and about her.

Yet, here I am, and since she died I've forgotten many things I initially wrote about. I had to compost about her cancer for a few weeks, but wound up with a polished piece, but I haven't done anything with it. Perhaps that will come later as well.
There are many things about her that I haven't written about. Many things that have happened to me that I haven't written about or processed yet.
In yoga, Betsy says that I may work on shoulder balance for a lifetime before I master it. Many poses will never be entirely mastered. Many topics will never be entirely mastered. I imagine I will continue to miss my mother until I die myself. Some days less, and some days more. Maybe some days not at all. But, it is impossible to completely let go of something that shaped my core.

I imagine teaching will also be a thread I continue discussing, and as much as Barrie and Witt hate it, I will probably write about writing--at least while I'm looking at Goldberg, anyway :)
Raking through the surface level junk to get to the rich soil ready to blossom beneath. Just like everything worth practicing.

Writing as a Practice

"If every time you sat down, you expected something great, writing would always be a disappointment" (11).

Isn't that all of life? Yesterday on Facebook, I saw Camille was on, and I tried to strike up a conversation with her. Last year was so hard on her. She lost her father not too long ago to brain cancer, she was living in Kentucky, but she want to move back to Colorado badly. I had lost touch with her when my mom died, and I finally left home and grew up. I remember when my mom was gone, I had called Camille, and I expected her to come to mom's funeral, or send me a card. That expectation was unfulfilled. She pretty much ignored me.

I remember talking with her mom and her mom saying, "Camille really needs you, she's just not paying attention right now. You need to stick with her." At the time I wasn't strong enough to stick to anything. I was struggling to figure out what to do with my whole life. I couldn't support my friends who lived near me, much less friends who lived in Kentucky.

The whole time Camille's been married--even before that, she's been wanting a baby--many babies. And she can't conceive. In February or March of last year, she finally got pregnant, but she went into labor and lost the baby in June. I know her heart broke. I can't imagine.

So, yesterday, I saw her on Facebook, and I tried to initiate a conversation with her and asked her how she was. She seemed so sad. And, I know she has good reason to be, but I can't imagine her life right now. I wonder if she laughs and smiles. I wonder if she has fun and has friends.

I hate to think of someone I was so close to, being so depressed.

I hope this year is a hopeful one for her. I hope we can reconnect and be closer, but I'm not sure it will happen. I wonder if happiness is something that we have to practice. Do we have to be in the right mindset to be happy? Is joy something that must happen spontaneously, or can we search for it? Does laughter have something to do with the faith that we have in our core that convinces us that life is wonderfull?

First Thoughts

Rules for writing:

1.) Keep your hand writing

2.) Don't cross out (don't delete)

3.) Don't worry about spelling, punctuation, grammar

4.) Lose control

5.) Don't think. Don't get logical

6.) Go for the jugular

It's hard to just write without thinking about all the things that "writers" are supposed to think about. Hitting the delete or backspace button is second nature, and has happened about twenty times since I first started working on this post. I'm finally at a point where I see editing as important, so I probably shouldn't give it up.

The rest of them seem possible. Logic has never been an issue :)

When trying to figure out direction for this, Witt kept coming back to the idea of what people are supposed to get out of this, but I don't think others will really read this. Blogging now is so common place, that even if I do link this to my Facebook and Twitter the only people who will definitely stay up with it already know everything about me. So, this blog is more a practice of self indulgence than teaching. Maybe I teach enough already, and this can just be about me or what I think.

This weekend I watched Julie and Julia. It was such a beautiful movie. I loved both stories, and of course thought of a the movie that would accompany my blog: Natalie and Leslie ;)

I'm pretty sure, though, that Natalie would like my blog better than Julia liked Julie's (isn't that humble of me!)

Beginner's Mind, Pen, and Paper

Experiment, Goldberg commands, with different writing utensils--pens, papers, notebooks, etc.

I love typing on Mac. I love his little keys and how the shell of the laptop feels cool against my skin. I go back to pen and paper, though. I'm not sure if I will ever stop liking the way a good pen feels in my hand.

Experimenting is so fun in theory, but in real life it's hard for me to experiment with much more besides food and music. Maybe I need to experiment more.