Falling into place

This was a bit of a strange summer for me, with inspiration coming to me through new places and experiences.  

One of those new experiences was trying out the role of mentor. I decided to take part in a mentorship program through the Lake Region Arts Council, working with a high school student on a writing project. Helping a young author develop her voice, particularly a novelist rather than a poet like myself, was an interesting challenge.

It reminded me of some of the things I love about language: the pictures we can create with words and how different they can seem in our heads versus on the page. I know it can be difficult to explain your vision to someone, and even more difficult to accept critique of it.

So, I decided to approach mentoring as though I were the voice of the reader, asking the kind of questions I’ve always wanted to ask my favorite writers as I read their work. It was also a lot of fun to talk to a young writer about this craft, hear her excitement for her story, and help her discover ways to keep growing in writing.

Like many authors and writers, I struggle sometimes with imposter syndrome, so it was strange to have someone looking to me for advice and encouragement. However, it was a good reminder that we don’t always understand how much we’ve learned until we’re asked to share it.

Being a mentor also brought me back to looking more critically at pieces I've written that I’ve grown attached to, and recognizing when they might benefit from another reader’s perspective.

As Fall closes in and I look at creating new work, I hope to carry some of those lessons with me.

New growth

“To everything there is a season…”

— Ecclesiastes 3:1

This year, spring had a way of becoming summer before I felt ready to let go of everything it asked me to leave behind. 

It wasn’t necessarily that spring itself asked me to leave anything behind, rather that everything around me was blooming and new while I was grieving the death of my beloved cat and trying to adjust to the changes afterward. He really was so much a part of our life, and having to say goodbye was very difficult.

Meanwhile, my toddler was turning 3 and becoming her own sweet little self, growing (and running!) faster even than the grass seems to this time of year. In comparison, there were moments when my writing life seemed to stall a bit in favor of being a stay-at-home-mom.

Lately, though, I’ve begun to feel some movement again. I have a few new manuscript projects taking shape, as well as an opportunity to mentor a student writer. Just some small reminders that the creative part of me is still moving and growing too.

It's probably not surprising that recently I've written a lot of pieces inspired by either my late cat, my toddler, or both. I even decided to submit one of those poems to an area contest, just to try dipping a toe back into the water.

I do still deeply miss my kitty and the time we spent together, growing, and watching seasons change.

But even after losing someone who was so woven into my (and my family's) life story, I find there are still new things blooming quietly nearby, or bursting brightly open with a toddler’s flourish.

It's only natural to let the light come through, turn toward it, and grow into it.

Walking in Wadena

There’s something both comforting and gratifying about seeing your own words taken in by a new audience. Being invited, held, and given space to share for a moment.

This past weekend gave me the chance to reconnect with poetry in two different, but equally welcoming settings in Wadena, Minnesota. I began with a talk at the Wadena City Library as part of Author Talks: BookEnds Season 7.

BookEnds is the library’s long-running visiting author program, originally started by the Wadena County Historical Society. Each season features conversations with writers and artists from around the region, hosted by the library.

I spoke about my background in writing and my poetry collection Ordinary Omens. I chose several poems to read from the book and followed with a Q&A session for attendees. We finished with a group poetry exercise, exploring the ordinary moments in our everyday lives that might carry hidden or deeper meaning, and how language can lift those moments into poetic form.

During my visit, several people told me they had already encountered my poems along the walkways at Wadena’s Green Island Nature Preserve, where the collection was featured throughout October and early November.

Hearing their descriptions of seeing my poems “in the wild” made me want to experience it myself, so after the event I headed out to Green Island. There was indeed something peaceful and fitting about finding the poems tucked along the forest trails. Many pieces in the collection are tied to the natural world, and reading them there felt powerful and restorative. Although it's close to town, somehow the space they've created is quiet, contemplative, and open enough to let the words settle as you walk.

I am truly grateful to have had the opportunity to speak with the Wadena audience, and to experience my poetry as part of the wonderful natural space at Green Island.

If you’d like to watch the BookEnds conversation, that video is linked here. Also consider a visit to Green Island and take a moment to enjoy the quiet of the forest! I've added photos from my visit to my website's portfolio page.