Writing Process

I went to school before the days of writing prompts. I went to school when you had to write research papers. Those research papers required a trip to the library and copious note cards. Rules like, "If you have an A you have to have a B. If you have a 1, you have to have a 2." still ring in my head.

I had a mom who insisted I "needed more light" when I was reading. She also said we couldn't do our homework with the TV on.

I have done research on learning styles. Kinesthetic, Visual, Auditory.

I've been thinking this month about my writing process. What do I need to be able to write? This is the first year that no major event is occurring or has occurred during this month and I am struggling every day to write.

 I have discovered:

*I can't have music because music without words annoys me and I love to sing. If I have music, I end up singing instead of writing.

* I can have the TV on, but it either has to be something I don't care about or down low.

*I can't have absolute silence because then every sound is distracting.

* I have a hard time writing (or reading) when there are other people around because I get interrupted and then it is hard to pick up any flow I may have achieved.

* I probably could write at the table in "writers position," but I prefer the couch with my laptop.

* I prefer to write at night because I feel writing is about reflection and I can't reflect on what has not yet happened.

* I would write better to a prompt because I was an English Major and writing is what English Majors do. But then it is about a certain genre, topic, book, theory, while this... blog writing... is about me. What thoughts or observations warrant a blog and not a diary?

I love that my boys had writers workshop when they were in school. Then they had a mixture of prompts and free writes. They usually wrote within a certain genre but could write what they wanted. Our district no longer does this, and it makes me worry about the kids in class today. They may be able to write to a writing prompt, but will they be able to write their heart? They will be able to compare a fiction work to its non-fiction counter part, but will they be able to write their own story?

Will they be able to go beyond the question being asked?

And most important of all -- Will they be able to ask the question and then seek answers just because they want to know the answers?

A Drive Through Amish Country

Indiana is not all in the same time zone. Here in the North-Eastern part we are on East Coast time. In the Northwestern part, where I am from, they are on Central time. Because of this, as I travelled on Saturday, the light on the farm fields was amazing.

I left at 8 so the sun was up but at that perfect angle that makes the photographer in me drool. As it is generally frowned upon to do digital SLR photography while driving, I had to be content with just enjoying the moments.

I had the new Ed Sheeran on the WiFi jack.  I love his music so much. This album is so personal and autobiographical my thoughts kept wandering to personal thoughts of my own.

 I was going to see a relative of my mom's who had old photos that she wanted help identifying.  I thought of my mom and dad, and the fact that the  anniversaries of their deaths are coming up. Dad's will be five years tomorrow. Mom's will be 3 years next week. I found parallels in the songs. Stories Ed Sheeran told that I wished I could do as succinctly played on the radio as the stories I wished I could tell played in my head.

I had to pass through Amish country to get to my destination. Passing buggies and people riding bikes with the sun bathing the fields in golden light made me think of my ancestors who settled in my hometown. German ancestors who rode in buggies and farmed fields by hand and hung laundry out to dry on lines are who I am from. I wondered if anyone else driving was in awe of the beauty all around. Do the Amish notice anymore since it is what they live every day?

As I drove, I thought about the fact that I was driving a vehicle and waiting for the part of the drive where I could go 65/70 miles an hour. A van that could comfortably hold 7 and that had heat.  I was listening to music I transferred from my google account to my phone that I then cast it to the WiFi jack, because the CD player is not working. All the while passing people who have no idea who Ed Sheeran is and have chosen a life that seems so much harder than the one the rest of have chosen.

The dichotomy really struck me.

Coming home, the sun was once again behind me and was starting to set all golden again. The relative had a portrait on the wall of my grandfather's family where he is between 12 and 15. I took photos of it. She had albums of my mom's side of the family that she gave me. There are photos of my grandfather as a young man before my grandmother or my mom. There are photos of family gatherings where everyone is in a big group. I had no idea there were photos of people at the beach or posing by the DANGER Railroad crossing sign in the 19teens and 20s.  I thought everything then was still formal and posed by professionals.  Every picture I see makes me want more. Is there someone somewhere who has a photo of my great-great grandparents? What about the other sides of the family? Where are those photos?

 I should be satisfied.  I know this. 5 years ago I had no idea the pictures I would now have. I am grateful.

Grateful but I want more connections. I want to see me in those faces. I want to see my children in the childhood faces of my ancestors. I want to know their stories. Are any of them the same as my story?

Grandpa is between his mom and dad -- the youngest in the family --born in 1897.  What stories could he tell if he were alive today?

I looked it up and the Amish do not believe in posing for photos. Perhaps the connection they have to the past through community is enough to satiate the need for knowledge of what came before.

I want more.

It's amazing what a little music, while driving through Amish country bathed in golden light, can bring to mind.

Music in the Dark

Darkness allows you to focus on the words
on the beat
on the emotion.

At a dance or club
when they turn the lights down
for a slow dance

Driving down the road
heading home
or away
Street lights and head lights
keeping  rhythm with
heart beats
Moving pictures of
the mind

Music surrounds
connects
embraces

And music always remembers