Taking my own advice and Eating it…

It’s about time I took my own advice.  I love that Natalie Goldberg talks about Writing Practice in the same way as Yogis.  And while I love to read about ‘practice,’ and I make lovely plans to practice, I often neglect the actual “DO” part of the equation.

This February, in a tiny love-letter to self, I’m following the Writers Regimen sponsored by the Southeast Review.  The thirty-day effort is an awesome way to stretch my very lax muscles, but I don’t want to give their prompts away.  For a $15 subscription fee, they send me an email once a day that includes all kinds of neat writing inspiration… here–you can visit yourself:


But I would like to share some works in progress without revealing too much behind the various prompts.  If you, too, are a participant, I’d love to hear from you and see other items inspired by the program.  In the meantime, I have some short goals for the month:

1. Write Everyday

2. Blog Once a Week

So Here’s a poem

The Bookshelf

The worn and warped shelves
have borne witness to the heavy gestalts
of my life.  The sagging planks
force tombs shoulder to shoulder,
carrion crows of my tragedies,
chotkes of the day-to-day detritus.
dust conceals the filigree tracery
of my dragging finger along the edges,
as I contemplate my next choice.
The shelves are too narrow to house all
the questions of my heart.


4 thoughts on “Taking my own advice and Eating it…

  1. Nancy Hamilton Sturm says:

    How true, April. Too often we writers simply don’t write. And, perhaps worse, we don’t submit when we have written. Sigh! Guess I need to follow your advice. I loved your poem; alas, all our “shelves are too narrow to house all the questions of [our] heart[s].” Well done.

  2. Meg says:

    I like “sagging planks force tombs shoulder to shoulder” for the visual imagery and your last 2 lines for the spiritual sense I have around, about, and within the books from which I’ve extracted and formed some of the wisdom and truths by which I steer my life.
    Also, “carrion crows of my tragedies” is sorrow distilled, well done!

    As I am only in the first grade, so I had to look up, “Tchotchke chotchkes Tchotchke are small toys, gewgaws, knickknacks, baubles, lagniappes, trinkets, or kitsch. The term has a connotation of worthlessness or disposability, as well as ..”

    I looked up Writers Regimen sponsored by the Southeast Review when you mentioned it in an email, or FB post a while back. I seriously considered the discipline it would provide me, and planned to sign up. That was on a weekend. The next day, I was asked to sing another solo and have poured most of my creative energies into learning that song. I’m also trying to fit the right words about the Trinity to a melody I want us to sing in worship, a challenging yet joyful venture. I have not forgotten your wonderful prayer and will take your words with me to band practice next week to share with Charlie, our lead guitar and band leader. I’ve got to dig through the email inbox to locate the poem and your scripture suggestion for a chorus.

    Sadly, this last weekend provided a genuiine purpose for writing, as I searched for my voice and words to respond to a dear cousin who announced her 16 year battle with breast and bone cancer is soon to end. So much to say within an uncertain gift of time. I wrote through cascading tears and will do so again until all is written. Her stamina for email communication will eventually fail and require phone calls in their place, but the written word can be printed and offer comfort upon demand, unlike the telephone.

    Keep writing. Do you ever have time available on a Monday evening between 7:00 and 7:30 or 6:30 – 7:30 to meet with Charlie and me to see what style of melody you’d like to have surround your prayer text?

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