Safe Haven

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Safe Haven

By Lisa Barker

Warm floorboards drenched by midday sun, 
swept clean, 
the tidy broom in the corner

Yellow is the room – 
the walls, the glow, the aura

There stands a bare table, aged 
and worn smooth 
with a sensible chair to keep it company in its elder years

I shall place my typewriter there
I shall click and clack and breathe in ink and electrical warmth

Stories will flow, 
characters will fill the room; 
heartbreak and heartache will be the tune 
as main and minor characters dance to a healing finale

This room, my soul, will protect them and nurture their transformation

Amen

Slow and Steady

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I broke 5K words on my novel. The goal this week is to finish this chapter – almost there! – and get well into the next.

Will be happy to write three chapters this April. I’m reading Still Writing: The Perils and Pleasures of a Creative Life by Dani Shapiro. I am in good company. She writes that it takes her two years to finish a novel. Yay! I’m not alone. (I’ll write a review for those writers who may be interested when I finish the book.)

Meanwhile, keep on writing NANOWRIMOs!

Commitment (for writers)

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COMMITMENT

By Grant Faulkner – Executive Director, NANOWRIMO

Call your novel.

Open your heart.

Make time for your dreams.

Mix your favorite writing fuel.

Ignite your imagination.

Trust that your story matters.

Muster up the moxie to go boldly into your story.

Engage your community in your creative pursuit.

Never doubt.

Tell yourself you are a writer—because writers write, and you are writing!

NaNoWriMo is a nonprofit, dedicated to making the world a better place through bold creative acts.

What Matters in Life and Love

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Let’s Love Each Other

By Rumi (translated by Haleh Liza Gafori)

Let’s love each other,
let’s cherish each other, my friend,
before we lose each other.

You’ll long for me when I’m gone.
You’ll make a truce with me.
So why put me on trial while I’m alive?

Why adore the dead but battle the living?

You’ll kiss the headstone of my grave.
Look, I’m lying here still as a corpse,
dead as a stone. Kiss my face instead!

(This is from the weekly email digest of The Marginalian (formerly Brain Pickings) by Maria Popova.)

No Foolin’, I’m Writing

April 1 – 30

It’s not too late to join in! Usually I make the attempt at a writing goal in November, but November being what it was, I only wrote 390 words out of 20,000 or so.

This month I am chasing the brass ring: 50k. Working on my WIP (work in progress), DELIVERANCE. Where will it take me? We shall see!

Working summary: Daniel Taylor and his husband Ryan are called to help Daniel’s brother, Joe, face the grip of alcoholism after a separation from his wife, Wendy.  But coming to his brother’s aid will plunge Daniel into the past where he also must face his own demons and perhaps the devil himself.

Two brothers team up to find deliverance from a childhood that still casts a long, dark shadow over their adult lives.

Excerpt

Addie sat expectantly and Joe threw the ball for half of an hour before they both went inside for a drink of water.  Joe watched the Golden Retriever lap at the bowl while he finished his bottle of Aquafina.  Ryan had been so right.  Addie was just what he needed.  She’d arrived fully trained at the age of three years.  There would be no extra fuss or puppy days to work through which was ideal for him at this state in life.  Addie and he were fast buddies through and through and he enjoyed her company so much that he found his days full and complete, centered around her.  Thanks to Addie, Joe enjoyed walking twice daily and rode through the country in the new Jeep with her.  She slept alongside him and licked away his tears when the loss of Wendy haunted him.  She nudged him until he wrapped an arm around her and fell asleep that way, comforted and content knowing that the night would carry on in peace and a good day would follow.  As the months passed and became a year, Joe accepted Wendy’s absence and when the divorce papers were served, he accepted those as well.  She had never contacted him personally at any time since she’d left, and he had kept his word about not attempting to contact her, though he often dreamed of seeing her again, offering apologies and comfort.  He missed her.  He often talked to her as if she were there and Addie would watch him inquisitively, then nudge his hand until he smiled down and pet her.

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