Went to the big city yesterday, to Los Angeles, and visited the Griffith Observatory. I spotted a lot of great writing spots: trails, tables, benches, grassy knolls... A change of scenery, and perspective, is always a delight. Sometimes that's just what I need; I either write while I'm there or feel motivated to get back to my own little corner of the world to re-explore the spot in my own writing.
My little corner is upstairs in my cabin, tucked under the eaves, conventionally, at a desk with a large window. The window overlooks my garden, and there are sheer crinkly white curtains that dance in the sun. Birdsong is constant and varied, and I wonder which bird is making which sound. Sometimes I go down to the garden to sit for a while, and once in a while I can connect the song with the bird. I want to get better at this. Hummingbird wind sounds like big bumblebees or tiny helicopters, as their tiny wings beat, as they hover and dart among the bright red feeders, and as the king (or queen) we've named Hercules struggles to drive his even smaller friends away.
Favorite photos and cards are mounted on black and white scrolled tag board to the right of my window--my writing group, family, a sparkly 1930s movie star drinking a martini whom I was once told I looked like (and I cannot at this moment think of her name), a note from my brother, and a black and white photo of a black cat reading Le Chat Et Nous.
Hanging on the left is my favorite Chagall print. It features floating blue lovers, a big red bird, a basket of fruit and a vase of yellow and white daisys. Better yet, there is a window above the lovers, filled with tiny white stars and a yellow crescent moon.
I have an old wooden library card catalog in this room; I fill the drawers with pictures and mittens. Books are everywhere. Stacks of papers I've written that I'm always going to reread and shape into something new wait patiently on a black metal flower cart. Of course there's a plant, and my Goddard degree. I love Goddard! There is a white leather loveseat for my dog. Sometimes my cat joins me, clawing my lap and meowing when I shift position (she's a very old cat).
This is my favorite writing spot; it is where I feel most sheltered, yet connected to the things I love.
What is your favorite writing spot? Describe it in detail and try to explain why this place speaks to you and in what ways! I'd love to hear about it.
The Writing Life. Focus on Fiction, YA, Adult, Poetry, Nonfiction, Historical Fiction, and Literary.
About Me
- Rachel Lorene "Lori" Johnstone Pohlman
- Lake Arrowhead, California, United States
- I live for my family, teaching, reading, and the joy of every new day, and I write to live! I've written both non-fiction, and adult and young adult fiction, and am currently working on a novel set in both California and London. This means I get to travel! Qualifications/Education: M.F.A., Creative Writing, 2009 Goddard College, Vermont. California Single Subject Teaching Credential Program, English, 1996 University of Redlands, Redlands, CA. B.A., English Literature, 1996 California State University, San Bernardino, CA.
Writer's Sites
- AWP- Association of Writers & Writing Programs
- http://primaryaccess.org
- http://www.howstufffworks.com
- http://www.lexipedia.com
- http://www.libraryspot.com
- http://www.newseum.org
- http://www.publishersweekly.reviewsnews.com
- http://www.writersmarket.com
- Joyce Carol Oates On Writing Characters
- Neil Gaiman's Blog
- Writer's Digest Monthly Contest
Sunday, June 12, 2011
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Bodies of Smoke
From Bodies of Smoke
"The day was suddenly quieter, or maybe it just seemed to hush as Jan witnessed the spectacle of ashes falling all around him, slowly turmbling out of the sky, carried on the soft breeze from some unknown fire. He looked toward the forest, thinking of a wildfire, but the sky in that direction was serenely blue. The wind was blowing from the other direction, anyway. It was coming from town. Oswiecim. There was a railroad station there, and a camp.
Jan continued to stand, face upturned, wondering what was happening. What new calamity might this foretell? Maybe the whole world was going to light itself on fire. Maybe it already had.
Ashes continued to float down on his face, his head, his shoulders, cradling themselves in his outstretched hands. Finally, ashes covered all of the roses."
Bodies of Smoke
"The day was suddenly quieter, or maybe it just seemed to hush as Jan witnessed the spectacle of ashes falling all around him, slowly turmbling out of the sky, carried on the soft breeze from some unknown fire. He looked toward the forest, thinking of a wildfire, but the sky in that direction was serenely blue. The wind was blowing from the other direction, anyway. It was coming from town. Oswiecim. There was a railroad station there, and a camp.
Jan continued to stand, face upturned, wondering what was happening. What new calamity might this foretell? Maybe the whole world was going to light itself on fire. Maybe it already had.
Ashes continued to float down on his face, his head, his shoulders, cradling themselves in his outstretched hands. Finally, ashes covered all of the roses."
Bodies of Smoke
copyright protected, R L Johnstone-Pohlman, March 14, 2010
What Are You Reading? The Two-Minute Book Review Series
- Wallace, David Foster. A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again.
- Foer, Jonathan Safran. Everything is Illuminated and Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close.
- Irving, John. A Widow for One Year
- Didion, Joan. The Year of Magical Thinking.
- Dunn, Mark. Ella Minnow Pea.
- Donnelly, Jennifer. A Northern Light.
- Kingsolver, Barbara. Prodigal Summer. This is one of my favorite novels; it's lush and filled with nature imagery, humorous and thought provoking. Entirely wonderful.
- Knapp, Caroline. Drinking: A Love Story. For anyone wondering about the alcoholic experience, here's your book. Exceedingly readable and feels absolutely honest.
- Salinger, J.D. The Catcher in the Rye
- Gaiman, Neil. Neverwhere
- Zusak, Markus. The Book Thief. As my writer friend says, "This is the book I wish I wrote." A book narrated by Death about a little girl living in Germany during WWII. This book will always live in my library!
- Selznick, Brian. The Invention of Hugo Cabret. YA Graphic Novel. Some of my teen readers loved it, others found it too simple.
- Colfer, Eoin Colfer. Airman. This book was voted favorite of the year with my middle school age book club.
- du Maurier, Daphne. Rebecca
- Card, Orson Scott. Ender's Game
- Proulx, Annie. Brokeback Mountain
- Spinelli, Jerry. Milkweed
- King, Stephen. On Writing
- Hamilton, Edith. Mythology
- Lamott, Anne. Bird by Bird. My favorite book on writing!
- Gilbert, Elizabeth. Committed.
- Skibell, Joseph. A Blessing on the Moon. An amazing Holocaust tale..this book stays with me. I want to read it again for the first time!
- Anderson, M.T. The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing
- Harris, JoAnne. The Girl With No Shadow
Poetry Corner
"August in Waterton, Alberta" by Bill Holm
Above me, wind does its best
to blow leaves off
the aspen tree a month too soon.
No use wind. All you succeed
in doing is making music, the noise
of failure growing beautiful.
"Lincoln by Vachel Lindsey"
Would I might rouse the Lincoln in you all,
That which is gendered in the wilderness
From lonely prairies and God's Tenderness.
Imperial soul, star of a weedy stream,
Born where the ghosts of buffaloes still dream,
Whose spirit hoof-beats storm above his grave,
Above that breast of earth and prairie-fire--
Fire that freed the slave.
Above me, wind does its best
to blow leaves off
the aspen tree a month too soon.
No use wind. All you succeed
in doing is making music, the noise
of failure growing beautiful.
"Lincoln by Vachel Lindsey"
Would I might rouse the Lincoln in you all,
That which is gendered in the wilderness
From lonely prairies and God's Tenderness.
Imperial soul, star of a weedy stream,
Born where the ghosts of buffaloes still dream,
Whose spirit hoof-beats storm above his grave,
Above that breast of earth and prairie-fire--
Fire that freed the slave.
Read!
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