Enchanted

Enchanted, entranced …. swept away … by such a lovely piece of music by Mike Rowland, who I am just now discovering. Entitled “Magic Moment,” the added visuals, (by truus 1949), are just that – simply magical, a reminder of such moments – so often in our lives and not noticed, or just a star’s breath ahead of us – and a reminder of how beautiful we actually are. Watch and summon your own true beauty. Feel the magic always in our lives if we just let ourselves be.

 

Building Your World on Your Dreams

Morning by Maxfield Parrish

“Cherish your visions; cherish your ideals; cherish the music that stirs in your heart, the beauty that forms in your mind, the loveliness that drapes your purest thoughts, for out of them will grow all delightful conditions, all heavenly environment; of these, if you but remain true to them, your world will at last be built.”

– James Allen from “Visions and Ideals,” As A Man Thinketh

Where Do Story Ideas Come From?

Back in December, I devoted a post to where ideas for picture books come from. With energy still running high from the NJ SCBWI June Conference, I feel inspired to expand that post. I’ll start with an example.

The photo below tells a story that may or may not have interest to you, but it definitely does to me. You may not even see the story right away. But stick with me. By way of background, I put food and water on my back porch for the 2 cats next door who are outside most of the time, and often visiting me. In time, a small tuxedo feral whom I’ve named Little Fee found the food, and now he’s a regular. I feed him morning and night, and he can graze whenever he’s inspired until I bring the food in. But who else is at the food bowl?

Well, if you know animals, you can look at the photo and know that it’s not just a cat. Towards the end of this past winter, when food sources were slim, I had two visitors who discovered the food – a young skunk, and a young opossum. While neither bothers me, I don’t need animals with lots of teeth or who can spray horrible smells on my porch. So I started bringing the food in as soon as it got dark. They left and found food elsewhere.

Feeling confident, now that it’s June, I started leaving it out a bit later again for when Little Fee comes around. So look again … and check that footprint. Here it is enlarged – Exhibit A. Based on my research last time, I’m pretty sure that I have a possum again. But he’s not the only visitor … I started noticing an increase in bird poop on my porch railing. Closer observation has revealed that a mama Blue Jay swoops down several times in the morning and late afternoon, takes a piece of food and flies away. She’s either feeding her young or eating it herself and regurgitating for her young.

For me, that’s a story idea. Three cats, a skunk, a possum and a Blue Jay all coming for dinner. I’m always enamored with nature, and this inspires me!

So where do story ideas come from? Always something of meaning and interest to ourselves. It can be something as simple as an observation of nature on our back porches, or something we’ve always wanted to know more about, or experiences or observations we feel compelled to write about. It’s when we are trying to write about “not us” that stories fall flat. We need to know ourselves, (or be willing to discover), and write from our hearts. So simple.

At the June Conference, I had a PB critique which inspired me to improve my story and rework my dummy. In a First Page Session, I got some suggestions that got wheels turning about really writing that middle-grade novel I only occasionally thought about. Where are those ideas coming from? My past, my love of horses, and all the information I’ve been absorbing over the last 7 years from helping an equine rescue and having friends who ride. The ideas are flowing as through an open faucet. I didn’t expect that from a simple First Page critique.

And in one workshop about breaking picture book rules, we split into 2 groups halfway through, and one of the two presenters, Alison Formento, gave us a writing exercise. What we participants wrote in such a short time was both amazing and moving to us all. And right there was another idea for each of us, because Alison had triggered our writing about something meaningful in our lives.

It all starts with an idea … what has meaning for you? What MUST you share with the world in whatever genre or whatever format or voice you choose? That’s where story ideas come from. And sometimes it can be as tiny as a muddy little paw print.

Balance

It has been my thought for a while now to write about balance … it has been a constant source of reflection over the past weeks … months. So while I mused over my subject, I searched for an appropriate photo for this post.

Unfortunately, having the love affair I’ve had with photography most of my life, looking for a photo is something akin to the proverbial child in the candy shop. Or better yet, wandering in the woods. I easily get lost. I searched for a photo by my subject, but the word ‘balance’ didn’t yield what I wanted, so I tried see-saw. Nothing. I tried `edge’ and that brought up images I didn’t expect, (like knives), so I tried `ledge.’ Still nothing. Then I thought of one of the greatest ledges of them all …. the parapets of Notre Dame. And gargoyles. This now became free association at its best.

And so you see the photo I chose, above. This is probably one of the most famous gargoyles in the world; he may even have a name, but I don’t know it. As someone who has been enamored of gargoyles before they became faddish and fairly common garden statuary, I have a few of my own; in particular, I have one of the Notre Dame gargoyles in candlesticks.

I’m in love with this photo. The gargoyle is quietly looking over his beloved city, shrouded in mist … HIS Paris. I look with him. And I contemplate the wonder of it all … the beauty and richness of life and the sometimes pain;  the inescapability of responsibility and the luxury of letting it all go to become steeped in daydreams; being surely anchored in cement and that violent shrug in which we break free and fly.

So yes … balance.

Springtime Whispers Green … and White

Who can wait? After 2 solid months of not seeing the ground in my part of the state, every soul eagerly awaited the slow greening of the Earth. Despite the fact that we were greeted this morning with a light blanket of snow – not so unusual for March in New Jersey – I’ve been noticing the telltale signs of Spring each day.

One of my favorite indications of Spring is the noticeable pairing off of Canada geese … mating season has begun. While seemingly indiscriminate flocks abound all winter, they now pair off with their bonded mates, and can be seen everywhere in couples. For whatever reason large numbers of geese no longer migrate South for the winter, and have become a “nuisance” animal to some, I still love watching the faithful pairs and their protectiveness towards each other.

I notice other signs of Spring as I drive, such as the cut stalks of last summer’s corn now sheared to the ground, which will soon be ready for tilling. I passed a local farmer in his orchard, pruning his sleeping peach and apple trees. I noticed small clusters of snowdrops peeking through the ground as I walked to town the other day. Perhaps most encouraging, just the lightest veil of green wisping about some of the trees … telling me that soon the world will be lush and verdant. All this is amidst the ever-growing morning song of birds returning from their winter havens.

And, as always, it seems mere moments from the first greening that the world will be in full bloom.

This morning, however, the Earth tried on her lacy white gown just one more time before tucking it away, soon to embrace her own lovely, green rebirth.