Words Upon Words

January 14, 2019 – Hope*Writers Prompts

 I love words. I think you have figured that out about me by now. But there is something that I deeply dislike: saying words without a point. I don’t like babbling, and I feel exceedingly embarrassed when I think I am babbling pointlessly. I don’t think that I have ever wanted to be famous for my words, but I do know–or rather, have come to realize–that I want my words to mean something. I want them to be meaningful to someone in some way for some reason, whether that reason is encouragement, an inspiration to be and/or make the world around them better, to see others in a dearer light, or to extend that dear light to themselves. All I know that I am desperate for my words to mean Something.

Josephine March is my favorite novel character, and, inLittle Women, Jo longed for a life beyond her beloved Orchard House, a life that was astonishing. I am not reaching for astonishing, honestly. I am not entirely sure I could handle astonishing. I am not reaching for the book deals, the speaking engagements, etc., though I dearly do love rejoicing in and with those who have flown to those amazing, inspiring heights. I just have this craving, deep down in the belly of my soul, for what I write and say to have meaning, to fall on hearts and minds and sink in somehow for the better.


Moments in Magical Modernity: V


Winter can be hard on beings who draw their power from the warmer aspects of Nature but many have developed coping mechanisms akin to those who deal with SAD. Dryads’ homes are often filled with warm light and UV lamps/bulbs to help warm them through the months. The satyr-run brewery has daily specials on warm, sit-in-your-belly meads and ales throughout the entirety of the winter season. And the Hollow keeps its summer-stoke fireplace going constantly; you’ll even see some dryads start to blossom under its enchanted light.

The world needs Winter, Nature its rest, and, with it, Winter brings its own particular brand of Magic. Frostlings and winterbroods make sure the sidewalks stay safe and those who work at the local DOT make sure roads stay passable and clear with a little charm here and a special mixture there  (not salt, though. We did away with that a long time ago. Too corrosive and harmful.) They do not tamper with the Weather itself but rather merely mitigate its results. Ponds freeze solid for skating. There’s an extra diamine shimmer on the morning and moonlit snowfalls, courtesy of local creative frost fairies. Holiday pictures taken out of doors are always perfect if set up/arranged ahead of time. Snowflakes stay frozen in mittened hands long enough for their myriad shapes to be inspected. Sleds whoosh along only to avoid obstacles and thunk safely into snowbanks. Fairies’ wings sparkle with snowdust, that subtle, delicate shimmer that is all but undetectable without the sun filtering through the sky just so on an icy day.


Jessamin, the frost fairy barista, always perks up immensely and helps Kingsley whip up all kinds of wintry treats and special drinks for the Hollow. A favorite is the Winter Apple—a spiced cider that starts warm and then, at some point between tongue and tummy, gives you the most delicious sweetness of a late fall apple just touched through with frosty cold. You can positively see the bright red of the apple glowing beneath its icy dusting.

In the winter, Sophie always comes around more often and stays for longer despite her always-busy schedule, basking in the hominess of the Hollow and its rejuvenating warmth. Humans like her linger longer over their coffees and pastries, slowing down a bit from the frenzy of life. They seem to take in more, feel like they notice and think more. In Winter, the world grows slower, steadier, for human and magical being alike. But Winter is not without its own brand of Magic, if one will simply slow down with it enough to see its beauty.



NaBloPoMo 2014 Day 30: The End is the Beginning

Here we are at the end of November and the end of NaBloPoMo 2014 (for me, at least). As I sit here on my couch, my newly-downloaded Infinite Rain app filling my ears with rain, thunder, and soft chimes, I find myself stymied as to what I can write to simultaneously sum up this month and move me on to the next. I have enjoyed the exercise and “muscle”-building of writing (or at least posting) something every day and it is a practice that I really want to keep up. I want writing to become a discipline and not just a hobby.

Wordsworth admonished, “Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart,” and I truly feel as though that is what I do when I write. Whether fiction or non, story or reflection, what I write is attached to my heart, breathed of it, part of it. The nonfiction pieces are infinitely scarier to me, though. Those are my personal thoughts, feelings, and opinions. That’s my soul right there, laid wide and bare for anyone – family, friends, stranger, comrades, critics – to read, enjoy, despise, pass judgement, give encouragement, or comment on.

Articles like “Discussing the Other” and “The Weight of Silence”, in their deep vulnerability and honesty, are terrifying to me. They terrify me because of the probability of their divergence from the opinions of others who mean a great deal to me, of striking a heart too hard, or touching a raw nerve, and, therefore, the possibility of their inciting the anger, hurt, or disappointment of those particular people. Even at the age of thirty-one, it is difficult to divest myself of the importance of others’ opinions. My husband once said, “You don’t worry about people not liking you. What worries you far more is someone being upset with you.” And it’s true. Believe me, it isn’t as bad as it used to be. Not that many years ago, I truly think I seriously would have chosen to have my head cut off before allowing others who had known me all my life to see me as less than. Less than perfect, less than what they had always assumed me to be, less than the example that I should be. In order words, I would have rather had the earth swallow me up than take a chance at being vulnerable and see looks of disappointment reflected back at me. I feared it all the time, guarded my vulnerabilities and shortcomings with a frightening vigilance, though, truthfully, probably not as closely as I thought I did. As an adult now, I cannot kid myself in the idea that someone didn’t know, that my mom or dad didn’t see that I wasn’t perfect. And you know what? They loved me anyway. The people who are steadfast in my life always have. They love me no matter my shortcomings, no matter my failings, no matter my vulnerable humanity. And so I write. I write as honestly as I may, speak as I need to, across this medium and others. If the results are negative, then I shall deal with them as they come and, hopefully, consider it practice in graceful reactions and healthy conflict resolution.

I write far better than I speak. In the time that it takes my words to travel from my brain to my fingers to either write or type them out, there seems to be a bit more of a profound filtration system than the path they take from my brain to my mouth. Of course, with writing, there is the benefit of editing and revising before we hit Send, Post, Tweet, Publish, etc. Writing enables me to take extra time before “speaking” to see how my words look before I “say” them and that is a benefit and a boon. I am trying to practice something similar in my verbal conversations, taking necessary moments before speaking from an unglued place. After all, HOW I say something can make or break what I have to say, regardless of how true or honest it might be.

Over the past four and a half years, this blog has become a place for those paper bullets of my brain, my thoughts and wonderings, my heart and soul to be poured out, parsed out, taken apart to be analyzed, and pieced together in a coherent whole. You, gentle reader, have been exceedingly patient with me as I have walked and continue to walk this path of bettering my art and, simultaneously, myself. So thank you for that. And I hope that, even just now and again, I can write something here that will help your heart, harmonize with your voice, and make happy your soul.

Thank you for sticking with me through this National Blog Posting Month, and here is more steps along the path and adventures along the way. Cheers!