Writing is a solitary pursuit--the imagination guiding the hand moving the pen. I'm pretty old-school, valuing the work of good editors and the revisions process before letting my words go public. But life is short, right? And sometimes, just sometimes, we need to spout off.

About me...

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A writer, mother, teacher, friend, I love books, blizzards and beaches, music from Hildegard von Bingen to the Beatles to Bonnie Raitt to The Brood; I love medieval churches, red wine, creme caramel, and roasted beets, and walking the woods and coastlines of home. 

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Serendipitous dive

Have I become a blawker? A blog-stalking dog-walker? The most ordinary events and activities laden with writerly opportunity. Like this morning, a classic blue-and-white Maritime winter moment, when I happened upon some divers taking a dip. The Northwest Arm uncharacteristically crystalline. Took them forever to duck, backwards flipper-flopping into the water. Air temp a balmy -1; dunno about the water.
So much like taking a story-plunge. A ton of tinkering, adjustments, hook-ups and prep-work beforehand to make it safe enough, pleasurable enough, before delving into the unknown.
"What are you looking for?" I asked, and they said, "Can't say. It's top secret."
Lots of old bottles down there, and golf balls.
And a ton of other stuff too, apparently.
But you start with what you know, then keep going.
So many treasures, gathering rust and barnacles.

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