Category: Uncategorized
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What We Nurture in Art and Life Makes All the Difference
“I think of myself as a sort of farmer; I tend the rich soil of troubled children and nurture them as they grow, “ a social worker once said to me when I told her about my dreams of being a writer/farmer. At the time I had no idea that I would write novels about…
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By the Shores of Solon Pond (7)
Waldo’s embarrassment at Christmas (novel excerpt) Although Waldo tried to ignore it, he dreaded the embarrassment this Christmas of not having joined Amy and Lucian at school after he’d talked so much about it. He imagined he might explain to them how sick Dan was and how he had heroically stepped in to chop wood…
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By the Shores of Solon Pond (2)
Will a new opportunity keep Waldo from going to school again? (Excerpt from Chapter Two of WIP) The day was low now with only moments left of twilight as he passed his uncle’s farm with its neat stone and wood fence along the road and his prize winning English White cows ambling within the big…
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Weekend Thought
It’s as simple as this. On a class trip to a one room schoolhouse a little boy named Skylar left a message: God bless you. Even if you are a grumpy person who hates when people mention God, you have to admit that this kid’s heart is in the right place. There was…
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Has someone ever tried to kill you?
“I’m having the feeling that I want to kill you, Mom,” she said to me as I measured out grain for our sheep in the feed room. “But there aren’t any knives down here,” I said. She glanced around, her eyes landing upon the heavy tools she could bludgeon me with. We were alone on…
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Pray for the Dead?
Do you think it’s morbid to pray for the dead? Do you think they can pray for us? I accept that I may have an active imagination and we can’t know for sure if visiting cemeteries brings us closer to our loved ones, but I feel it can. I visited one of my Civil War…
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O Solitude!
O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell, Let it not be among the jumbled heap Of murky buildings; climb with me the steep,— Nature’s observatory—whence the dell, Its flowery slopes, its river’s crystal swell, May seem a span; let me thy vigils keep ’Mongst boughs pavillion’d, where the deer’s swift leap Startles the wild…
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Ode on a Grecian Urn by John Keats
Thou still unravish’d bride of quietness, Thou foster-child of silence and slow time, Sylvan historian, who canst thus express A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme: What leaf-fring’d legend haunts about thy shape Of deities or mortals, or of both, In Tempe or the dales of Arcady? What men or gods are these? What…
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A Writer’s Calling
You should not expect a return on your love. The idea that you deserve anything in life leads to disappointment. How many times must we suffer disappointment before we make peace with the idea that it’s a sorry part of life? It’s our lot. We expect so much from others and fine things from ourselves…
Author Adrienne Morris 