Dear Rita Mae Brown,
Last night we had a Writer’s Circle meeting. One of us is moving to Texas, one of us is walking surprisingly far for someone still recovering from a stroke last year, one of us is making a movie, one of us is writing Rita Mae Brown letters, one is having her roof fixed before it rains again and one of us is wondering where on earth she is going to find time to write between boys, class, homework and her job.
The six of us have been gathering monthly-ish for several years. We will miss our Texas defector. We chatted about having her skype or use some other method that is a live chat system so she can be in on future meeting, or at least her image will be there, on a computer screen.
Long before we formed our Writer’s Circle group I wanted to write. I know I write better now because of it. The instant feedback, the encouragement, the pointers, the practice exercises and focus without pressure, all breathe life into our creative nature.
We catch up with one another over dinner, then read whatever anyone has brought to share, swap books and conclude with ten minute exercises read immediately afterwards. What comes out of those minutes is amazing. Often we will ask one another to type them up and share them.
We decide on a topic for our writings, but I always add the ending “or anything else” as I tend to wander if I can’t find words to match the topic. In one of our Ten Minutes last night I wandered, sketched three sets of words…
Fine, Fine lines, Fine mist, Fine idea
A fine thread winding through time
Tying the past to the future
You to me
Sorrow to joy
Lives to eternity
A thought, a word, a phrase, a sentence, a paragraph, a story…read, spoken, shared, lived
Drawn to warmth, don’t get too close, lest you be burned.
Don’t feel too deep, lest you drowned.
Don’t stray too far, lest you disappear.
Another answer to the “whys” for your letters appears.
“Don’t stray too far, lest you disappear.”
I won’t. I am right here.
Nite,
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