“The way home has always been there. It has stretched out in front of me but I have not had the eyes to see it. The way home is a broad, dusty road. There are curves and overgrown places. Forest pathways and granite cliffs. The way home is always lit—by sunlight, by moon light, by star gleam and by an open heart. The way home is quiet. It is gleaming in front of me even as I write these words.” --Laura Davis, writing practice

Tell me about the way home…for you.

“It's not what you produce as you write that's important; it's who you become as you write that's important." --Louise deSalvo, American writer

How has writing changed your life? When I write, I become…

“If I tell you my character has grey hair, you will not see her. If I tell you she has a tiny scar at the upper left corner of her lip from which protrudes one grey whisker—you will make up the rest of her face with absolute clarity. If I tell you my character is waiting in a car, you won’t be ‘caught,’ but if I tell you he pushes his fingers down in the crack of the car seat where the ancient leather has pulled away from the seat frame, and pulls up a small coin purse with a faded note in it—you will be mine.” --Pat Schneider, Writing Alone and With Others

Now try Pat’s exercise:

Try writing a description of these three: a man lifting a bottle of cold beer to his ... [Continue Reading]

“I feel strongly that I have a responsibility to all the sources that I am: to all past and future ancestors, to my home country, to all the places that I touch down on and that are myself, to all voices, all women, all of my tribe, all people, all earth, and beyond that to all beginnings and endings.” --Joy Harjo

Tell me about all the sources that feed your writing.

This exercise was inspired by Tim O’Brien’s magnificent book about Vietnam, The Things I Carried. I carry some extra weight on my frame, thirty pounds plus from the time I walked, a gaunt shadow of myself, my body shot full of the chemicals that were poisoning me and saving my life. I carry my disappointments in love, the stories I don’t want to tell anyone, the failures I don’t want to admit. I carry my deep love for my children. I carry my need and desire to control them and the equal force in me to love them and let them go. I carry with me the Jewish mother gene, the gene that pushes education and fills the house with books and gives educational presents. The huge Atlas I gave the kids five Chanukahs ago will be a failed present I will never live down. I carry with me ... [Continue Reading]

“I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.” --Sylvia Plath

Tell me about a time you were immobilized and couldn’t make a decision. Bring us up to the moment where you finally made a decision, or through inertia, one was made for you.

“I know I had to risk more in life before I could risk more in poetry.” --Shirley Kaufman

What risks do you need to take in your life right now? Where is your edge?

"I have a feeling that my boat has struck, down there in the depths, against a great thing. And nothing happens! Nothing . . . Silence . . . Waves . . .Nothing happens? Or has everything happened, and am now standing quietly, in my new life?" --Juan Ramón Jiménez

Tell me about a time you found yourself suddenly standing in a new life.

“Be content with what you have; rejoice in the way things are. When you realize there is nothing lacking, the whole world belongs to you.” --Lao Tzu

Tell me about a moment when you felt completely content with who you were, where you were and what you had.

“Smell is a potent wizard that transports us across thousands of miles and all the years we have lived. The odors of fruits waft me to my southern home, to my childhood frolics in the peach orchard. Other odors, instantaneous and fleeting, cause my heart to dilate joyously or contract with remembered grief." --Helen Keller

Make a list of 10-20 smells that evoke the past for you, smells that hook you into a memory of a person, a place, a time in your life, or a particular incident. These smells can have either a positive or a negative association, or both. (Examples might be: vanilla extract, woodstove smoke, the smell of gasoline, Old Spice and cigarettes, bourbon on someone’s breath, Dr. Bronner’s soap).

Choose one smell from your list. Tell the ... [Continue Reading]