“A creative life is an amplified life. It’s a bigger life, a happier life, an expanded life, and a hell of a lot more interesting life. Living in this manner–continually and stubbornly bringing forth the jewels that are hidden within you–is a fine art, in and of itself.” ~ Elizabeth Gilbert in BIG MAGIC
I’ve been reading BIG MAGIC lately, taking to heart much of Elizabeth Gilbert’s advice (or maybe it’s more like confirmation) that this thing we do–writing–has purpose whether or not the stories land in this publication or that. It’s easy to minimize our work and on some days to want to give it up outright. So, I do whatever I can to stay connected to creativity.
♦ I read novels or short stories (or books on the craft) that amaze me and inspire me to write more or write better. Lately, I’m reading Shann Ray’s soon-to-be-released novel, AMERICAN COPPER, which is a story I don’t want to put down and a model of writing I would love to emulate.
♦ I schedule coffee dates with other creatives who get it. Who say, Yeah we’re easily distracted by laundry or dinner or bedtime conversations with kids, but we’re easily distracted because our minds are always open–open to the busyness of the world around us and, in turn, open to the inspirations found within that same world. “Easily distracted” is a good thing.
♦ And, I make a commitment to writing in some regular way: every Friday afternoon, once a month at Harwood Place, and, beginning November 1st, six weeks online with you.
Principles & Prompts an online course on creativity, story, and writing
In simple terms, this is a six-week course from November 1st-December 12th where we will discuss a few principles of the genius and the craft, pulling from books like BIG MAGIC, Lisa Cron’s WIRED FOR STORY, as well as podcasts, videos, & essays online. And, we’ll draft a story or essay based on one writing prompt a week.
This is a busy season, I know, but the main goal of this course is to keep you engaged with writing during a time of year when our creative aspirations fall to the wayside in the midst of menu planning, family gatherings, and holidays.
With that in mind, the time commitment is low and so is the price, because not only is this a busy time of year but an expensive one: $65 (returning students will see an even lower rate) guarantees you six weeks of inspiration, the beginnings of several pieces, and new connections with writers like yourself.
I hope you’ll join me. Register through PayPal by clicking the button below. Even though this is online, seats are limited, and the deadline to sign up is Wednesday, October 28th.
Principles & Prompts November 1-December 12, online. New students: $65 Returning students: $50
*Registration is now closed, but for more information on the course or future offerings, contact me.
The old ones tell us, “live as you are named.” / We sense the truth in our bones / if we listen.
~ from “Listening” in Weweni by Margaret Noodin
Last weekend, I attended the Mount Mary Publishing Institute in town, and during a workshop with Bridget Birdsall, I wrote a six-word memoir–not an easy exercise, but nevertheless, here’s mine: Mom, too introspective, my best feature. Introspection sends me down a rabbit-hole of worry sometimes, but it also adds layers to the understanding of myself, others, and the world around me. “Live in the layers, / not on the litter,” as Stanley Kunitz writes.
Layers of understanding and meaning are at the heart of Margaret Noodin’s new book of poetry, Weweni. This is a unique book as each poem is written first in Anishinaabemowin (the language of ‘the People of the Three Fires’–the Odawa, Potawatomi, and Ojibwa”) and then in English.
I can’t speak a word of Anishinaabemowin, but I appreciate the complexity and art of the language. As Noodin writes elsewhere, “[Anishinaabemowin] words stem from the center, the way stories say life began with a spark of light and earth and was made from a speck of dirt. Meaning radiates from a central spoke of action, and diversity of interpretation is important.” I also fell in love with several of her poems as translated into English.
And, I fell in love with the cadence of Anishinaabemowin when I heard this traditional song, called “Nindinendam (Thinking),” sung by Margaret herself on Ojibwe.net:
Margaret Noodin teaches American Indian Studies at the university where I work–the day job has its perks, meeting professors who you discover are amazing poets as well as great teachers. I’ve read two of her books so far, and I’m thrilled to host Margaret here to talk about Weweni and her writing. As is my custom, there’s also a giveaway. Drop your name in the comments below for a chance to win a copy of her wonderful book of poems (winner will be chosen on Tuesday, October 6th).
Now, welcome Margaret Noodin!
CC: I should begin by asking you where you are from? Then, how does the word “Weweni” translate into English?
MN: I am originally from Minnesota and have taught Anishinaabemowin in Michigan, Wisconsin and Minnesota. I grew up in the Lakota part of the state in a town called Chaska, but my own relatives are from the St. Cloud area.
Weweni is a word we use to wish one another well and hope they are able to “take care” as they move along their journey in life.
CC: Your book offers readers a unique look at poetry as each poem is printed in Anishinaabemowin and in English. What do you hope others outside of the Anishinaabe culture will take away in reading these poems?
MN: I hope they will become curious enough to visit www.ojibwe.net and listen to the language, maybe even try saying a few words and thinking about the ways those sounds fall together so differently than English. I also hope the translations help students confirm their progress and inspires readers to become students of the language. Perhaps even a few other poets will try writing in Anishinaabemowin.
CC: In another book you recently published, Bawaajimo: a Dialect of Dreams in Anishinaabe Language and Literature, you explain that the Anishinaabe people are “a ‘woodland’ culture” as much as a community tied to the waters of the Great Lakes. You say, “One does not move from the mutable seas to the stationary pines without traveling the land between,” meaning perhaps that it’s impossible to separate the land from the language. Many of your poems, such as “Bizindamaang | Listening,” illustrate this idea. When you write your poems, are you inspired first by the language or the landscape around you?
MN: I am inspired by the systems all around us – water systems, forest systems, the way swamps evolve over time, all of the life that constantly changes and recharges everything that is connected. I suppose, ultimately, all the old stories about “mishomis-giizis” and “nokomis-dibiki-giizis” (the sun and the moon) are at the core of it. The fact that all of this life is happening across vast distances and inside tiny molecules reminds me of the way we put sounds and meaning together to make words that allow us to actually communicate ideas and perceptions to one another. None of this is new, but taking time to notice all the influences of the universe certainly leads me to write.
CC: How does poetry influence other areas of your life, creative or academic (or vice-versa)?
MN: Building words and making connections is essential for using Anishinaabemowin and is the central approach to many of my poems. They often begin when a sound or piece of meaning echoes across a story or song into a topic I wasn’t expecting and I find myself wanting to follow the thread to see where it leads. As a member of women’s hand drum group I am always connecting moving between poetry and lyric verse.
CC: Who is another poet or Anishinaabe author you would recommend (or insist!) we read?
MN: Kim Blaeser and Heid Erdrich are two poets who have worked with me to create poems in both Anishinaabemowin and English. Each of them has a strong poetic voice readers might like to experience. They offer different views of the land and history. Jim Northrup is another writer who connects Anishinaabe language and culture to the land and seasons in his stories. His book, Walking the Rez Road, weaves poems and stories together in a way the blurs the definition of each genre.
Margaret Noodin has a PhD in Literature and Linguistics, an MFA in Creative Writing and is Assistant Professor of English and American Indian Studies at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee. A contributor on Ojibwa.net (a website dedicated to saving the language), she is also the author of Bawaajimo: a Dialect of Dreams in Anishinaabe Language and Literature.
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Don’t forget: leave a quick comment for a chance to win a copy of Weweni.
This isn’t a post about writing, but it’s still about story.
On a road trip earlier this month, my daughter took my phone so she could (supposedly) listen to music. It was weeks later when I found the video she made. She filmed it in slow motion; all I did was add music. I love these kinds of tiny surprises. Maybe it’s just me, but seeing the world through her eyes produces a story all on its own, with or without words. Reminders to pay attention to the road between us, the outline of trees like animals along the horizon. A tiny town, a bridge, you and me and we. And the sun–white, bright. Always the sun.