Daily Archives: 01/20/2015

writers ignite

Margie is a friend-who-is-a-writer I communicate with regularly.  Today she sent me a connection to her blog  referencing an email note we exchanged.   I chuckled because she had no idea I was about to blog about our support of each other as writers and reference the same email!

I don’t think I could attend to communicating in writing on a regular basis without the support of friends like Margie.  I have a nice list of people who check in with me, read my stuff, and encourage me to keep at it.  Their support is visible, audible and often tangible.  But there is much that is invisible and intangible and audible only in my head!

The email exchange I was going to reference today is part of a weekly check-in that Margie and I have.  She has arranged with me to email her a little note on Monday mornings as a way to say “hey, are you writing?”  The unsaid portion of that exchange is that I am thinking “hey, I care about you and your process.”  So I’ve got a reminder on my phone and tablet to check in with Margie on Mondays at 6 am  – although I have to admit I turn it off on holidays.  I have sent notes, scraps of poems, photos, drawings I’ve made.  It is a way I get my own juices going too.

Last week I sent her a poem I’d found on the website A Year of Being Here.  (I found this site when I was deciding on my One Little Word and wanted help jump-starting my way to being “mindful.”  I get a poem from them everyday and I just love it!)  I offer this connection to others who don’t have a Monday morning companion like I do.

The poem I enjoyed most this week is this one:

“Down on My Knees” by Ginger Andrews, from An Honest Answer (Story Line Press, 1999).

cleaning out my refrigerator
and thinking about writing a religious poem
that somehow combines feeling sorry for myself
with ordinary praise, when my nephew stumbles in for coffee
to wash down what looks like a hangover
and get rid of what he calls hot dog water breath.
I wasn’t going to bake the cake

now cooling on the counter, but I found a dozen eggs tipped
sideways in their carton behind a leftover Thanksgiving Jell-O dish.
There’s something therapeutic about baking a devil’s food cake,
whipping up that buttercream frosting,
knowing your sisters will drop by and say Lord yes
they’d love just a little piece.

Everybody suffers, wants to run away,
is broke after Christmas, stayed up too late
to make it to church Sunday morning. Everybody should

drink coffee with their nephews,
eat chocolate cake with their sisters, be thankful
and happy enough under a warm and unexpected January sun.

on your mark – get set – get writing!