Star Sticker

One of the most important habits I picked up in my creative writing classes was to always email myself updates of my drafts. That way, if my computer died or a tornado carried my house off to the land of Oz, at least my work would be accessible online! Recently, on a whim I started adding a tiny pep-talk with each attached draft email. 

 

*Embellished screenshot of email

We writers can be really tough on ourselves sometimes...so why not be our own cheerleader occasionally, too? 

I'm happy to report that I am now one-third done with my first draft of Agent Regalia!

And the Word of the Year is...

Some friends unexpectedly invited us over for a new year's party. We played board games (I'm a Dixit fan forever!) and enjoyed scrumptious snacks and celebratory carbonated grape juice. However, I was baffled when I was asked what my "word" for this year would be. I struggled to think of an appropriate focus word to reside at the heart of all my goals, and settled on "drive." 

However, I discovered an even better syllabic confection that I wish to use as the prism lens to filter all my wishes and goals this year:

EUNOIA 

It is Greek for "well mind" or "beautiful thinking." I want to learn to balance all my aspirations and energies evenly. I don't want to be outpaced and outstripped by my dreams, but to work in silence and strength towards my better self . . . and best stories yet!

 

Wishing you serendipity with all your endeavors this year, fellow Earthlings.

A Winter Poem from my Past

My mom passed away after I had barely published a single poem, and before I had completed any of my novels. So it gives me great joy that some 20 years later, an old poem that she loved of mine has finally found a home in the 2022 edition of Northern Narratives. An ode to Orion:

 

In Seasons of Snow 

 

 I waited for you

At the edge of a lake,

A frozen space

Outside the city’s glare.

Earthbound, I scrambled down

An ice-glossed jetty—

Searched crisp-gemmed skies

That only winter keeps.

 

My eyes snagged

On the loop of your belt,

Three stars strong.

My mist tinged bright

By moon

As I sounded you out

Off a single breath:

Orion.

 

Pursuer of the Pleiades,

Scorpion’s stalker,

Giant Hunter—

I, too, have become

A huntress, and in

Seasons of snow

I ransack the stars

To flesh you out.

 

I would be your Artemis—

But my arrow would be no accident,

Nor tipped with killing head.

Accept my heart into your breast,

A weak ember next to your fierce

Magnitude of light, yet even so

I would add my high-shot scintilla

To the bonfire of your strength.

I'm not this girl anymore. I've aged, or rather edged, more into weariness than wonder as the years have piled on. But I hope my heart will never forget the starlit gladness thrown into the sky by nature every night. My mom had a beautiful Rabindranath Tagore quote I try to always remember: "If you cry when the sun is gone, you won't see the stars." 

As this year ends, may we all find those little starry joy-gems in our life that rekindle our hearts.