Guest Post Archives - Page 6 of 18

May 7, 2017May 14, 2017

A Picture and a Thousand Words: Guest Post by Kim Suhr

“Leathery oak leaves grip my soles, and I am stunned by the realization that I must get used to seeing you from this vantage point — the back of your head bobbing, you running, running, running to the next vista, the next adventure.” ~ from “Sweet Scented Place” in Maybe I’ll Learn: Snapshots of a Novice Mom by Kim Suhr

Motherhood is a tricky business. There are plenty of books, mind you, that detail the how-to’s, the do’s, the do-not-ever’s. But inevitably, as soon as we take that baby in our arms (first-born, second-born, it doesn’t matter…every child is different) the books fall to the wayside, the instructions we studied blur, and we begin our individual journey as Mother, Mommy, Mom.

I’m not saying these how-to books should be ignored or discarded; they do provide a starting point. But it is a different kind of book on motherhood that often plays a larger role in our understanding: the book that reminds the new mom she is not alone; the book that says you’ll make mistakes, you’re only human; the book that suggests, even as your son or daughter grows up, that feeling of being a novice never entirely goes away.

Kim Suhr has written such a book. Her essays in Maybe I’ll Learn: Snapshots from a Novice Mom highlight her experiences of motherhood when her children are young, from that first bicycle day trip (where siblings turn enemies) in “Peace in the Trailer” to a quiet hike for two in “Sweet Scented Place.” But the story doesn’t end at the last page. Throughout the book, in the Afterword, and with her guest post here, the message is the same: take note of everything–good, bad, frustrating–and know that each adventure, each intimate moment, reveals a new truth about who we are as human beings.

I’m thrilled to host Kim as she shares a snapshot of her story now, as a mom of a college-bound son. And because Mother’s Day is right around the corner, I’m offering a giveaway. ENTER HERE for a chance to win a copy of Maybe I’ll Learn. Deadline to enter is Sunday, May 14th, at noon.

Now, welcome Kim Suhr!

A Picture and a Thousand Words

By Kim Suhr

“Take lots of pictures. They grow up so fast!” The advice came from all corners: the old lady in the grocery line, a mom of tweens at the library, the middle-aged neighbor who had just sent his last child off to college. Flash forward 18 years, and my hard drive can attest to the fact that I took this advice. Nineteen thousand images. Add to that the few years of actual hold-‘em-in-your-hand photographs from before the digital era, and we’re talking lots of pictures.

Now it’s time to send my first-born off to college, and, while I am glad I took the advice of strangers, I am also glad I listened to my writer’s heart and took notes. For each kid, I kept a notebook in which I wrote periodic letters describing simple things—my worry of the moment, the kid’s developmental level or fascination du jour, what was happening in the world. They include a few sticky notes and ticket stubs. One particular nametag I just couldn’t throw away.

When I revisit these journals, I get a reminder of the phase when Shelby would break into singing “EIO!” to show her general state of happiness, how she went through a time where everything in the past happened “the otter day,” how she first learned to “write” her name and “read” with inflection.

Twelve years later, I write down a few Instagram posts that capture the vision she shares with her peers, “Life always offers you a second chance. It’s called tomorrow,” and “You can always find sunshine on a rainy day,” both accompanied with arty pictures of herself in starfish-type stances.

A dip into Ethan’s journal takes me to his vexation at having our yard signs stolen during the 2004 election, and his brainstorming on how to solve the problem. One solution involved electrifying the metal posts in the sign. Another called for copious amounts of dog poop.

Fast forward eight years, and I record his reaction to the most recent presidential election, the one he missed voting in by a few months. In a darkened living room, we watched the results together, both at a loss for words:

Before we went up to bed, you said, “Well, at least some really good art is going to come out of this time period,” observing, I think, that it is times like these where we can look to the arts to express what we can’t.

It certainly wouldn’t have occurred to me to take a picture that night, but I sure am glad I recorded a few thoughts.

So, if you have kids and no other stranger has given you this advice, let me be the first: write it down. Start with “Dear Sweet (Name)” and the date. It doesn’t need to be eloquent. Sometimes a list is all you need: Funny Things You Like to Say, What Seems to Be on Your Mind Lately, A Parenting Conundrum. Describe mealtime conversation or what you talk about at bedtime. These snapshots will not only help your kids remember what they were like at different times in their lives but will also give them insights into who you were, too. Perhaps that is the biggest gift of all.

Kim Suhr is the author of Maybe I’ll Learn: Snapshots of a Novice Mom and director of Red Oak Writing. Recently, her work has appeared at Midwest Review, Stonecoast Review and Solstice Literary Magazine. Her short story collection, Nothing to Lose & Other Stories, was a finalist for the Eludia Award. To learn more about her writing, visit kimsuhr.com. Kim holds an MFA from the Solstice program at Pine Manor College where she was the Dennis Lehane Fellow in Fiction.

Don’t forget: ENTER THE GIVEAWAY by Sunday @ noon, May 14th (Mother’s Day), to win a copy of Maybe I’ll Learn: Snapshots from a Novice Mom!

January 11, 2017January 10, 2017

Writing Fiction with Help from Picasso

Today’s guest post is written by Patricia Skalka (@PatriciaSkalka). She is the author of the Dave Cubiak Door County Mysteries, with the third book of the series, Death in Cold Water, now on shelves. In her post, Skalka reveals how stepping away from her pen and into the world of art changed her perspective on the way she approached her writing.

I’d been a professional nonfiction writer for more than twenty years when I decided to make the jump to fiction. Specifically, I wanted to write mysteries – stories based on both character and plot. Those were the types of books I most enjoyed reading and felt most drawn to writing. I had plenty of ideas and the confidence that comes from two decades of making my living with words.

So, I started. And failed. The first draft of my first mystery was a dud. The second was not much better. I kept reading, revising, and chipping away. I was determined to do this but each faltering step drained away some of my self-assurance.

The problem lay with my perception of the novelist. As a nonfiction writer, I worked for national magazines like the Reader’s Digest and Ladies Home Journal, and was intimately familiar with the work involved in crafting a piece for publication. First came the idea, followed by the gathering of material through research and interview, then organizing the material and writing a first draft and, finally, the revising. Intellectually, I understood that the same basic process applied to fiction. But on an emotional level I had a very different concept, and therein lay my problem.

Deep in my psyche, I embraced the notion that fiction writers were born to the story. In this fantasy, I envisioned the novelist as one who woke with the idea in full blossom and who proceeded to write a captivating novel with almost effortless ease. The fact that I had to work – and work hard – at the process sent an unconscious message that I wasn’t and never could be a novelist and that, despite my attempts, I was just fooling myself.

I was at one of my lowest points, when I traveled to Europe to visit my daughter during her study-aboard semester in Spain. On a sun-drenched autumn afternoon in Barcelona, I walked down the famous La Rambla to the Museu Picasso in the Old Town area. I went to see his art, never realizing that the hours I would spend there would save my fiction-writing career.

photo of Chicago Picasso sculpture — The Chicago Picasso. *Photo credit: tacvbo via Visualhunt / CC BY-SA*

Among the more than 4,000 works on display were the table-top models and rough sketches that Picasso had made of the iconic untitled sculpture that would eventually be installed in downtown Chicago. I lived in the city and was familiar with the massive, 50-foot tall steel structure. But in Barcelona, I came face-to-face with the many versions that Picasso had to work through before he arrived at the final design.

There were so many, and as I took them in, the truth dawned. I was looking at an example of a world famous artist going through a struggle and process similar to mine. Picasso didn’t wake up one morning with a vision of the finished sculpture in mind. He started with an idea and then for some two years he nurtured it through a long string of evolutionary and developmental steps until he reached his goal.

If Picasso had to work at creating his art, then why shouldn’t I have to work at writing my novels?

The point seems obvious, but to me it was a revelation. I walked out of the museum almost giddy. My attitude and approach were transformed. I could do this.

pencil and pencil shavings Back home, I embraced my work with new enthusiasm and understanding. Failure was not a defeat but a learning process. Ideas were seeds waiting to be cultivated, nourished, and tended. Change was good. Revision was an elemental part of the process. If a plot line didn’t pan out, it wasn’t a disaster but an opportunity to figure out how to make it better.

Eventually, I learned two more important lessons. The first was discovering that I couldn’t write blind. I couldn’t take an idea and write by the seat of my pants. I needed to understand the entire story first. This meant plotting it out step by step before I began to write.

The second was learning to be comfortable writing at my own pace, and learning that the pace would vary. On some days it meant a thousand words and on some it meant five hundred. I congratulate those who are able to do more but no longer let myself be intimidated by their output or feel that I have to match their pace.

Writing is a very intense and personal experience. The only way to make it genuine is to believe in yourself, to go through the trial and error process of finding what works for you, and then to be true to yourself.

I made the trip to Barcelona ten years ago. Since then, I’ve published the first three books in the Dave Cubiak Door County Mystery series and am well into the fourth. All I can say is, Thank you, Picasso!

photo of Patricia Skalka — *Photo by B.E. Pinkham*

Patricia Skalka is the author of Death Stalks Door County, Death at Gills Rock, and Death in Cold Water, the first three books in the popular Dave Cubiak Door County Mystery series. Skalka, a Chicago writer, turned to fiction following a successful career in nonfiction. Her many credits include: Staff Writer for Reader’s Digest, freelancer, ghost writer, writing instructor and book reviewer.

October 12, 2016October 12, 2016

Guest Posting at Great New Books: Leaving Lucy Pear

Great New Books (GNB) is a website dedicated to spreading the word about favorite books and must-reads. With a team of 10 bloggers, GNB posts a book recommendation once a week on fiction or nonfiction, memoir, young adult, and more–a diverse range of reading guaranteed to grow your t0-be-read pile.

This week, I’m honored to be one of their guest bloggers, where I spotlight one of my recent faves: Anna Solomon’s newest novel, Leaving Lucy Pear:

Several years ago I fell in love with Anna Solomon’s first novel, The Little Bride, so it took hardly any press on the news of her second, Leaving Lucy Pear, to convince me to run out and grab it. In both books, Solomon weaves vivid imagery with a deep study of characters, so that the events of one person’s story are molded by the decisions of another.

Click HERE to read the rest of my GNB review of Leaving Lucy Pear, a book that speaks on the Jewish American experience, on cultural expectations and gender roles, and on women who go against the grain.

And many thanks to Jennifer Lyn King and the rest of the GNB team for the invitation to post!