Open Mic Blog
|Posted on December 30, 2013 at 6:45 PM||comments (13)|
in an old, yellowed, lace glove
in a forgotten, silk lined pocket
of a scratchy wool coat
in the cobwebby attic of a house
I’ll never own.
* * *
A few weeks ago, a dear writer-friend posted on Facebook a question: What happens to a dream deferred? My mind immediately whispered, “It dies,” but that is too sad to post, too sad to be true. I responded what I hope happens, that the dream plants itself in the heart and waits for the sleeper to awake. I’m a dreamer by nature. I always have been. I dream dreams for myself. I dream dreams for others. I dream dreams of others, those who have lived in lives passed, and of those who I’ll never know except for in my dreams. Growing up, my family always called me a dreamer and worried that my feet would never touch firm ground. It is this dreamer mind that gave me my writer’s heart, that drove me to become a teacher.
I wonder if other professions hear, “Oh, I’ve always wanted to be a …” as much as I have. I wonder what stifles the dreams of those who want to become teachers. We are all teachers in our own ways, whether we want to admit it or not. We teach our children to be polite, to mind, to lie, to steal, to die – all without ever having a content standard or a lesson plan to guide us. We teach others how to do the things we love, how to fish, crochet, build, create. We teach others how to get out of the things we hate, cleaning, laundry, homework. All the things we teach, all without standards, all without tests.
During my first full-time job as a teacher, I began to teach my students to write stories. I was a silly, new teacher who naively assigned my students to write stories by saying, “Write a story.” The first question was how long did I want the story to be. A page. A page was a good length. A page sounded official. A page sounded writerly. The “stories” I received were anything but writerly and reading through an entire page was painful, though at times laughable. I had a problem. I had to teach my students how to write a story and I had no idea how. I found a book in the closet of my classroom that featured pictures of people and scenes on overlays. Pulling the cart with the overhead projector into my room, the class began writing together. I put a picture on the overhead and we created names for the people, discussed their personalities and characteristics. We dreamed up and argued their stories. What would they have to tell us, if they could speak? Together we outlined their stories and wrote each on the board. After writing this way with my students for weeks, I slowly began to realize my students were telling their own stories through the pictures.
Soon, I realized students told their stories in all kinds of ways. A student running into the room saying, “You’re not going to believe what happened!” was greeted with, “Stop and write it down! You are not allowed to share or tell anything that isn’t on your paper.” Students told their stories through jokes, moaning over problems, sighing aloud when a certain someone seemed to be ignoring them. My students turned into walking stories. I gave them a place to voice their stories. Each day I would give them a writing prompt. The prompts were usually authentic, such as Tell me what you did this weekend or Tell me about your first love. Yet, not until I became a Writing Project teacher did I see myself as a writer teaching others to write.
I joined the Three Bridges Writing Project at Marshall University in the summer of 2007. It was a hot sweaty summer, where I sat in my house trying desperately to put something on paper I thought others would want to hear. June was the longest month that year. June was also the month where I officially introduced my dreamer self to my writer self and each, in turn, to my teacher self and they merged– somewhere during long, intense days of writing groups–into the same person. It was this new person who returned to the classroom to teach writing that fall.
I can’t tell you, at least not in one blog post, the ways my teaching writing changed. It did not change all at once and still changes even today. For instance, this school year changed everything about how I teach writing. The implementation of the Common Core State Standards and the Ohio Improvement Process brought fear into this dreamer-writer-teacher heart. Staff meetings informed me I didn’t know how to teach writing, nor could I teach it without extensive worksheets and graphic organizers. I threw everything I thought I knew about writing and teaching writing out the window. Flash forward to December, quarter exams and the narrative paper. Although I gave my students daily prompts and every graphic organizer I could find, when the time came to write a narrative no one believed they had a story to tell. The narratives were the poorest writing I have seen from my students all year–and I ain’t talking grammar either.
Worry filled me. Looking at my students, I became angry. I had reduced writing to a formula, a set of graphic organizers, a meaningless test. I had left behind the beautiful words and phrases of authors. I had left behind the amazing craft that authors place in their works to open our eyes. I had left everything that was important to writing out. I had to make this right, had to make my students truly write. I began to bring in my favorite works. I read stories aloud to my students and we discussed what made the writing “good.” After reading Cynthia Rylant’s In November, each student picked a month to describe using her text as our “graphic organizer.” Did you know that in July food is a red, white and blue color, tastes like the gunpowder from a firework, and melts on your tongue? After reading The True Story of the Three Little Pigs, students chose their own fairytales to retell through the villain’s eyes. Who knew that Ursula was actually Ariel’s nanny and Flounder was a shark who proved to be a bad influence? Imagine our surprise when Cinderella’s stepmother told of finding out that Cinderella had eleven little brothers and sisters. Eleven! No wonder Cinderella had to help with the chores.
I’m still nervous. Just last week I put out a call to my fellow writing project teachers for books they use to teach writing. I’m not nervous about meeting content standards or the ability of my students to write. I’m nervous that I’ve wasted so much time worrying about how to do what those who aren’t writers were telling me to do. I’m nervous that I so easily doubted what I knew to be best, that I may do it again one day. I’m nervous that I didn’t teach my students to listen to their dreams, that instead I encouraged my students to defer their dreams. I’m nervous my dreamers will fail to wake this year and fully see themselves as writers.
* * *
Jennifer Stapleton lives and teaches in the Ohio River Valley. Aside from reading and writing, she loves to spend time with her son, Trey, and their two rescue cats. In the growing world of technology, one of the things Jennifer finds to be hardest is trying to keep up a blog–she has started several and has yet to maintain one for more than two or three posts.
|Posted on November 15, 2013 at 1:40 PM||comments (11)|
“Hindman,” ETSU professor Tom Lane said. “They have the Appalachian Writer’s Workshop there every summer. You should go.” It was a strange name, a stranger idea that I should go to a writer’s workshop. What exactly is that? I studied the brochure intently. That August in 1980 I packed up my little Toyota Corolla and set off through Pound Gap over into eastern Kentucky. As I drove, the mountains seemed to move closer and closer, the road became more narrowed and crooked. I pulled across the wooden bridge over Troublesome Creek and walked toward the log house that said “Office.” I got all the paperwork, my information packet, my name tag, and went over to the main classroom building next door. As I watched people come in and get ready for the opening meeting, I was suddenly paralyzed with self-doubt and anxiety.
“What was I thinking? There are all these famous writers here and college professors; I’ve never published anything or even finished college! I’m going to make a fool of myself!!” But I’d already paid my money and driven all the way over there; it was too late to back out now. And thank God for that.
Out of the next 6 days, which is 144 hours, I think I slept somewhere between 8 and 10 hours total. The daytime heat index hovered between 95 and 100, and this was in the days before air conditioning, but we were too enthralled to notice much. During the day, I was in classes taught by James Still, Cratis Williams, Harriette Arnow, and Jim Wayne Miller; in the evenings I listened to them and other wonderful writers read from their work, including new work. The special guest reader that year was Wilma Dykeman, and I got to meet her. I was in awe and star struck disbelief—I was getting to actually meet and talk to favorite authors. In the evenings we played and sang the old mountain songs, talked and talked, entertaining each other with stories and wordplay. I had gone from feeling so out of place and self-conscious to knowing that I was exactly where I needed to be.
When it came time for my first manuscript conference with my teacher, Jim Wayne Miller, I was so nervous I thought I was going to throw up. But when I sat down at the table in the dining hall next to him, he smiled and said, “There you are. I’ve been waiting to meet you. Reading your manuscript and meeting you will be the highlight of this workshop for me.” I was too stunned to speak. I now know that Jim was the kind of person who probably showed lots of young participants that kind of generosity and kindness. But his encouragement, which was then echoed by the other poetry teacher Richard Hague, gave me something I thought I needed then—permission to think of myself as a writer. I had told people since I was in 4th grade that I was going to be a writer, but adolescence had caused me to scoff at the notion that someone like me could actually be that.
I left there a changed person, part of a new family, strong as blood, and our bond continues to this day. We have grown old together, grieved over many who’ve gone on, and maintain an understanding and bond that is hard to explain.
By the time I finally got home that weekend, the exhaustion had fully engulfed me, and my husband came home to find me sound asleep on the carpet in the middle of the living room floor, right under the little window air conditioner. “Wake up and talk to me,” he said. “I want to hear about it. Did you have fun?”
“More than fun,” I said. “I found my tribe.”
* * *
Rita Sims Quillen’s novel HIDING EZRA is forthcoming in 2014 from Little Creek Books; it was a finalist in the 2005 DANA Awards competition, and a chapter of the novel is included in the new scholarly study of Appalachian dialect just published by the University of Kentucky Press entitled TALKING APPALACHIAN. One of six finalists for the 2012-14 Poet Laureate of Virginia, her poetry received a Pushcart nomination as well as a Best of the Net nomination in 2012. Her most recent collection HER SECRET DREAM, new and selected poems, is from WIND Press in Kentucky and was named the Outstanding Poetry Book of the Year by the Appalachian Writers Association in 2008. Previous works are poetry collections OCTOBER DUSK and COUNTING THE SUMS, as well as a book of essays LOOKING FOR NATIVE GROUND: CONTEMPORARY APPALACHIAN POETRY. Rita lives and farms on Early Autumn Farm in Scott County, Virginia. Visit her Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/ritaquillenhidingezra
Rita Sims Quillen’s novel HIDING EZRA is forthcoming in 2014 from Little Creek Books; it was a finalist in the 2005 DANA Awards competition, and a chapter of the novel is included in the new scholarly study of Appalachian dialect just published by the University of Kentucky Press entitled TALKING APPALACHIAN.
One of six finalists for the 2012-14 Poet Laureate of Virginia, her poetry received a Pushcart nomination as well as a Best of the Net nomination in 2012. Her most recent collection HER SECRET DREAM, new and selected poems, is from WIND Press in Kentucky and was named the Outstanding Poetry Book of the Year by the Appalachian Writers Association in 2008. Previous works are poetry collections OCTOBER DUSK and COUNTING THE SUMS, as well as a book of essays LOOKING FOR NATIVE GROUND: CONTEMPORARY APPALACHIAN POETRY.
Rita lives and farms on Early Autumn Farm in Scott County, Virginia. Visit her Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/ritaquillenhidingezra
|Posted on August 2, 2013 at 6:00 PM||comments (0)|
One huge highlight of this year so far was when I was interviewed by award-winning novelist Zoe Ferraris. She is the author of the literary thrillers FINDING NOUF, CITY OF VEILS, and KINGDOM OF STRANGERS. She is also a good friend and mentor whom I admire and respect, and I was honored to be featured on her blog. Watch for her simply amazing fantasy novel THE PYXIS in the near future.
|Posted on July 22, 2013 at 11:15 AM||comments (0)|
Four talented students at the 2013 West Virginia Governor's School for the Arts, an actress and three dancers, interpreted my poem "Monday." It doesn't get much better than this
|Posted on February 14, 2013 at 10:40 AM||comments (7)|
|Posted on January 31, 2013 at 5:55 PM||comments (13)|
S. G. Reding
S.G. Redling is a veteran of morning radio, an avid traveler, and a more avid wine drinker. The thriller Flowertown (Thomas & Mercer, 2012) was her first novel. After only six weeks on Amazon, Flowertown broke Kindle's top 10 and sold more than 50,000 copies. Her second novel Damocles (47North, 2013) hits the sci-fi shelves May 28th, 2013.
Discover seven cool things about S.G. Redling! She will be answering your questions for the next two days, so stop by and take advantage of this great chance to learn more about her writing journey and deepest, darkest secrets for creating riveting thrillers and sci-fi novels.
~Seven Things You Probably Don’t Know About Me~
1. My Great-Uncle Pat is an important figure in the history of Lawn, Newfoundland. He alerted the town to head to high ground when he didn’t like the look of the sea. A tidal wave rolled in hours later, wiping out most of the town. No lives were lost.
2. I played an extra in Melrose Place (the original show!) Jack Wagner showed me his nipple and I lied to Rob Estes about my job. I worked in radio at the time but I told him I ran a personal karaoke service. (What? Did you think this was going to be deep?)
3. I was the first female PA announcer in the East Coast Hockey League.
4. I met Andy Warhol.
5. I worked as a sheepskin packer in Truckee, California.
6. I am an ambidextrous watercolor painter.
7. The sight of a bat flying overhead will instantly reduce me to a flop-sweat-soaked quivering mass of terror. I’m not crazy about rabbits either. Guinea pigs, however, are awesome.
"Flowertown is a high-intensity conspiracy thriller that brings the worst-case scenario vividly to life and will keep readers riveted until the final haunting page."
|Posted on November 17, 2012 at 10:45 AM||comments (1)|
Are you superstitious? I know that I am. I hope the Morton's Lite Salt I just threw over my left shoulder works!
What are some of your good luck charms and rituals? Do you always carry or wear something for good luck?
Do your read your horoscope every day? Have you ever been to a fortune teller or used Tarot cards, etc., to predict the future?
|Posted on October 15, 2012 at 10:05 AM||comments (6)|
White Shadow/Black Beauty?
What do Dr. Seuss, Boz, George Eliot, Lemony Snicket, Mark Twain, Silence Dogwood, and Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell have in common? They all used pen names.
Not so long ago, women had to resort to using a man's name to get their work published. Think the Bronte sisters: Charlotte/Currer, Emily/Ellis, and Anne/Acton Bell. Even today, J.K. Rowling was told to use initials instead of Joanna (her first name) because her publisher thought her book would "sell better if she disguised her gender." She didn't have a middle name, so they gave her the middle initial of "K." Obviously, that strategy paid off in gold bullion!
Some writers today use pen names when they switch genres, so their devoted fans don't turn on them. Writers like actors tend to get typecast (think John Boy, Julia Roberts, Stephen King (Richard Bachman), and Patricia Cornwell) so if they want to break out and write a pop-up book (which I adore!) or something, they might adopt a clever pen name to publish incognito.
I ran across a wonderful discussion of pen names in The Atlantic and learned a number of facts about author's names that I didn't know: http://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2012/04/the-strange-stories-behind-famous-writers-pen-names/255619/#slide1
Are pen names really necessary in the 21st century? What would you change your name to if you had to make up a pen name? Don't be shy!
|Posted on September 16, 2012 at 9:35 AM||comments (11)|
Quick book survey:
1) What's the title of a recent book that you purchased?
2) What's the title of a recent Kindle/Nook/ebook that you purchased?
|Posted on September 3, 2012 at 12:25 AM||comments (4)|
In the last few years things have been changing at a lightning pace in the publishing industry. For the first time UK Kindle sales have surpassed Amazon print sales: http://bit.ly/R49C8x
Would you or did you ever have an ebook published? Would you do it again? If so, what would you do differently?
Do you find that you read more books now because you own a Kindle, Nook, etc., or do you only buy and read print books? Or both print and ebooks?
|Posted on August 11, 2012 at 9:35 AM||comments (15)|
Ah, the dreaded writer's block . . . Call it creative exhaustion, fear of failure, or just coming up empty, we've all had it. So, what are some of your home-grown solutions that helped you declutter your keyboard and get back to what you love to do?
|Posted on July 26, 2012 at 5:30 PM||comments (14)|
I recently took a poll on Facebook and ask some of my friends what controversial or writerly issues they'd like to discuss next on my blog. Many great ideas were shared, and I will get to them all over the next few months.
I thought I'd kick off our discussions with the topic of celebrity novelists and fake memoirs. Snooki's novel A Shore Thing comes to mind as does Frey's A Million Little Pieces, but there are many others out there that haven't been in the headlines as much.
I've provided a few sample questions below to help get us started:
* Have you ever bought a book written by a celebrity or a writer who has fictionalized their memoirs?
*Were any ghostwriters used to write or co-write these books?
*Were the books entertaining/informative/life changing/compelling/fun/worth your money?
*If you have not read any of these kinds of books, tell us why not.
*Many public figures get book deals because they make money a lot of money for the publishers. If a talented writer has no platform, do they, too, deserve to be published?
*Do these kinds of celebrity/faked memoirs generate enough money for the publishing companies so that some debut writers waiting in the wings can now get published?
*People have always been fascinated with celebrities, so do you think this trend will continue? Will there always be a reading audience for them?
*What motivates a memoirist to lie and embellish their work? Money? Fame? Greed?
*How do these kinds of books impact your life? Do you feel cheated in any way? Betrayed? Uplifted? Informed? Bored? Transported?
*What does the popularity of these kinds of books tell us about ourselves, our society?
*Doesn't everyone deserve to be published? Why or why not?
|Posted on July 3, 2012 at 6:55 AM||comments (20)|
If you are a writer or an aspiring writer, I thought it would be beneficial for us to read about one of your writing regrets, a little known writing success, and something that keeps you going when the writing life throws you a major curve or just seems impossible/hopeless.
I think we could learn something from each of you. Who's going to jump in the water first?!
|Posted on June 18, 2012 at 8:35 AM||comments (6)|
In memory of my friend Ray Bradbury
My measure of greatness is not celebrity but how someone treats humanity, the humble, the working class, and, yes, even a simple poet like me.
Ray Bradbury's greatness, therefore, is beyond stellar in my eyes. His creative powers, telepathic vision, and literary legacy are treasured, but what I remember the most about Ray was his friendship, his inspiration and fervent support, his love of life, his devotion to family, and all that's truly important.
My friendship with Ray began in 1993 when I sent him a heartfelt fan letter, and he wrote back. That began our long correspondence, sharing books we liked, poems, cartoons, good times and bad. The first time I sent him one of my poems, he wrote "Send it somewhere---The New Yorker? The American Scholar?---to be printed!"
His enthusiasm was contagious. He used exclamation marks more than me, and I loved that about him. He advised me to "Write every day from now on. A poem a day if possible, or one every two or three days. I don't want to force you. Act natural. Have fun. Be beautiful." His letters were always signed with an exclamation mark: "Love! Ray," and I've kept all of our correspondence, emails, and Christmas poems that he wrote each year and shared with his friends.
I met Ray in 1997 for the first time in Eureka, Illinois. I was star struck and a nervous wreck. I did manage to buy him a pear at a local market in honor of that beautiful passage from Fahrenheit 451: "A glass of milk. An apple. A pear." I got to ride in the same car with Ray as he was escorted back to the airport in Peoria and managed a shy conversation but often found myself at a loss for words---the moment, both profound and unnerving.
I composed this poem in my head as I drove 500 miles on my way home to West Virginia. Loren Logsden, the editor at Eureka Literary Magazine, published it in 1997. When I sent it to Ray, he said it was beautiful, made him cry. This time I'm crying, but not for too long. I have to write a poem today.
"A glass of milk, an apple, a pear."
April 1997: Day Meeting for Ray Bradbury
What I meant to say,
became a pear
I placed in your hand.
What I meant to say,
you had already answered.
On that Illinois road
that divided empty cornfields
with a new silence,
I wanted to give you immortality.
But how can I give,
what is already yours.
|Posted on June 12, 2012 at 8:50 AM||comments (3)|
A poem in memory of my mother Laura Moore Treacy
My neighbor hangs wet laundry in the sun.
Wooden clothespins turn in her hands.
Like a supple dancer she bends
and stretches her arms over her head.
The clothesline gently sags;
the wind catches the weight.
Her hair floats like milkweed.
At night she irons mended clothes
with swollen hands.
Standing on varicosed legs,
white hair clouds her face.
The hot smell of starch and steam
fills the dark kitchen.
Her windows are painted shut.
But in the morning the dancer returns.
Winds play in her hair.
Hands become swans;
feet rise en pointe.
A new ballet in the wash of days.
(First printed in Controlled Burn and collected in Lake Effect)
|Posted on May 26, 2012 at 4:45 PM||comments (19)|
Since this is Memorial Day weekend, I've decided to publish my poem online in memory of the 29 miners who lost their lives at Upper Big Branch Mine in 2010.
Montcoal, West Virginia: April 2010
Night after night of this cruelest month,
porch lights beckon the miners home
and wait for a truck to top the hill.
Each evening they keep watch,
listening for the crush of tires on gravel,
the bark of a faithful dog.
But the men aren’t coming back,
tonight or any night
from Upper Big Branch mine.
have long gone out,
but families hold vigil and pray,
and somehow the miners
hear each whispered word,
see all those porch lights
candling the darkness,
calling them home.
|Posted on May 6, 2012 at 11:05 AM||comments (4)|
Word & Song Café
Photo by Roger Roppel
Join us this summer at the Word & Song Café atop the beautiful gazebo at 14th Street West in Huntington, West Virginia, during the 21st annual Old Central City Days. Sit back and enjoy a cup or two of tea and delicious pastries from Betty Schoew’s Manchester House Tea Catering and listen to The Harmonica Club, Rocco Muriale play saxophone with Griff on keyboard, Dave Lavender sing, and award-winning writers read original selections Saturday and Sunday, June 16 and 17, 2012, from 1-3pm. For more information, go to www.oldcentralcity.com
Our featured readers for Saturday include short story writer and author of Still Life With Plums, Marie Manilla, O’Henry Award winner and novelist, John Van Kirk, poet and author of Lake Effect, Laura Treacy Bentley, playwright and freelance writer, Diane Wellman, and a recitation by two-time state winner of the Poetry Out Loud competition, Jasmine Lewis.
Our featured readers for Sunday include novelist and author of Emily’s Shadow, Christina St. Clair, novelist and author of underthebridge.com, Paul Martin, and debut novelist and author of Flowertown, Sheila Redling.
Celebrity readers include radio news personality: Bill Cornwell (Saturday), WSAZ morning news anchor: Susan Nicholas (Saturday), Commissioner: Bob Bailey (Sunday), owner of Hattie and Nan's antique shop: Joanna Sexton (Sunday), Director of Weed & Seed: Jennifer Williams (Sunday), and Quilt Trail artist and author: Sylvia Thompson (Saturday).
Signing authors include Carter Taylor Seaton, an award-winning author of Father’s Troubles and a figurative sculptor, Daleen Berry, a blogger for The Huffington Post and author of an award-winning memoir, Sister Of Silence, Jane Congdon, author of The Count, My Mother, and Me, Patrick Grace, publisher of Wild Sweet Notes, Marilyn Shank and Llewellyn McKernan.
Admission is $3.00 or three cans of food. All profits will be donated to a local food bank.Your ticket entitles you to tea and a pastry served by our Celebrity Servers and an afternoon of entertainment plus a chance to win door prizes at 2pm and 3pm. (You must be present to win.)
Arrive early for limited seating on the gazebo stage! There will be another seating at 2pm.
Both featured and signing authors will be on hand to discuss and sign their books.
* * *
Huntington native Marie Manilla frequently peppers her fiction with local landmarks: Frostop Drive-In, Dwights, Neirman’s Pharmacy, curvy Spring Valley Drive. A graduate of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, her award-winning stories have been collected in Still Life with Plums (WVU Press, 2010). Her novel, Shrapnel, also set in Huntington, won the Fred Bonnie Award for best first novel and will be available in August 2012. Her website is www.mariemanilla.com
John Van Kirk’s short stories have earned him the O. Henry Award (1993) and The Iowa Review Fiction Prize (2011). His work has been published in The New York Times Magazine, The Hudson Review, The Iowa Review, West Branch, Kestrel, The Sonora Review, and Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine, as well as several anthologies. His novel, Vossimilitude, is set to be published in 2013 by Red Hen Press. He teaches writing and literature at Marshall and is a long-time member of the Huntington Harmonica Club.
Laura Treacy Bentley is a poet, fiction writer, and book editor who writes “Conversations” for WV Living Magazine. She grew up in the West End of Huntington and spent many summers at the Olympic Pool. Her work has appeared in the United States and Ireland, and her first book of poetry, Lake Effect, was published in 2006. One of her poems, “Keepsake,” was recently chosen by the editors of O Magazine and is featured on Oprah’s website. Visit Laura’s website: www.lauratreacybentley.com
S. Diane Wellman lives in Huntington and works as a freelance writer. She is the author of several works of fiction, including short stories, plays, and screenplays. Her flash fiction was nominated for the 2009 Best of the Net Awards, and her play The Hen House was performed as part of Women’s History Month at Marshall University, where she received an MA in English. Visit her at www.dianewellman.com
Jasmine Lewis is the Poetry Out Loud State Champion for both 2009 and 2010. She is currently a Junior at Marshall University majoring in Communication Studies with a focus on Organizational Communication and minoring in Business Management. Jasmine's favorite instrument is the violin, and she loves guinea pigs as pets.
Award winning author, Christina St. Clair, born and raised in London, England, has written articles, essays, and many novels for young people. She will be reading from Terrible Toes (available on Amazon Kindle) about an incident from her childhood. Her website is www.christinastclair.com
Though born in Los Angeles, Paul Martin, novelist and author of underthebridge.com http://amzn.to/JUoyQZ has lived and written in Huntington, WV, so long that he considers these mountains and valleys both his only real home and inspiration. His fiction draws its breath from the people, small towns, even the geography of this region, and he hopes his work honors that debt. He understands that many of you might own an iPad, but doesn't want you to ever forget the sensual pleasure of cracking the spine on a great new book.
You may remember Sheila Redling from her fifteen year stint on the morning show at WKEE-FM in Huntington. Still an avid traveler, language geek and wine lover, she now writes under the name SG Redling and is anxiously awaiting the release of her debut thriller, Flowertown, from Thomas & Mercer, June 19, 2012: http://amzn.to/weY7uU Find her on Facebook and Twitter at SG Redling.
Photo by Roger Roppel
|Posted on April 8, 2012 at 12:05 AM||comments (5)|
Thanks to Sheila Redling (whose debut novel, Flowertown, is being released very soon on Amazon from Thomas & Mercer) for sharing this fabulous link:
In this video via http://ted.com, Elizabeth Gilbert of Eat, Pray, Love fame talks about the origins of creativity. It's entertaining, inspiring, and moving. I highly recommend this video to every writer or would-be writer.
|Posted on March 10, 2012 at 10:05 AM||comments (2)|
I will be leading two poetry workshops this summer at the 2012 West Virginia Writers Conference, June 8 - 10 at Cedar Lakes in Ripley, WV.
A stellar line-up of presenters includes Lee Maynard, Edwina Pendarvis, Marc Harshman, Marie Manilla, and Brad Barkley, among many others, plus great music and singers.
Come and join us!! http://www.wvwriters.org/conference12/2012-descriptions-and-bios.html