Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Broken Hearts
August was a pretty bad month for members of our little group.
On August 20th, we lost beloved group member Walter Rein. He had been "living with leukemia" (as he always said) for several years, and was doing very well on a new series of treatments. But he developed a secondary infection that his body just couldn't fight and within a couple days, he was gone.
Walter was a wonderful writer and spent the past several years publishing many books. You can look him up on Amazon, and purchase his works, there are several. His second and last novel will be coming out soon as well, as his wife Janell is working hard to make sure that happens.
We will always miss Walter, and we are all grateful for having had him in our lives.
On August 21st, group member Alessa Leming lost her mom after a long battle with cancer. (That's Alessa on the left, her mom in the red next to her.) Linda Edwards was a writer as well and also has a book up on Amazon called "After Julia". Please do go and check it out.
Linda was another fun and creative person who leaves a big empty spot in the world with her passing.
It has been over two months since these two bright lights were extinguished, and it still feels like yesterday. But, amid all the sadness and sorrow of these passings, there are many happy memories to hold on to and share.
Friday, April 27, 2012
National Poetry Month - Part 3
One of our group members passed along a quote about poetry that I really like. In a letter to his then 13-year-old son, John Quincy Adams, John Adams wrote: "You will never be alone with a poet in your pocket."
Monday, April 9, 2012
National Poetry Month - Part 2
Group member Chrissy McVay says this is one of her favorite poems as she is reminded of it every time she embarks on a new journey. I too have a fondness for this one, and am lucky enough to have a recording of Frost himself reading it. Enjoy. ~SB
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Labels:
national poetry month,
robert frost
Sunday, April 1, 2012
National Poetry Month - Part 1
Our first featured poem for National Poetry Month was sent to me by group e-member Ron Johnson. He didn't say why he likes it, but I know why I like it. It's a fun poem written about a cat. How perfect is that? ~SB
Macavity: The Mystery Cat
By T.S. Eliot
Macavity's a Mystery Cat: he's called the Hidden Paw -
For he's the master criminal who can defy the Law.
He's the bafflement of Scotland Yard, the flying Squad's despair:
For when they reach the scene of crime - Macavity's not there!
Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macavity,
He's broken every human law, he breaks the law of gravity.
His powers of levitation would make a fakir stare,
And when you reach the scene of crime - Macavity's not there!
You may seek him in the basement, you may look up in the air -
But I tell you once and once again, Macavity's not there!
Macavity's a ginger cat, he's very tall and thin;
You would know him if you saw him, for his eyes are sunken in.
His brow is deeply lined with thought, his head is highly domed;
His coat is dusty from neglect, his whiskers are uncombed.
He sways his head from side to side, with movements like a snake;
And when you think he's half asleep, he's always wide awake.
Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macavity,
For he's a friend in feline shape, a monster of depravity.
You may meet him in a by-street, you may see him in the square -
But when a crime's discovered, then Macavity's not there!
He's outwardly respectable. (They say he cheats at cards.)
And his footprints are not found in any file of Scotland Yard's.
And when the larder's looted, or the jewel-case is rifled,
Or when the milk is missing, or another Peke's been stifled,
Or the greenhouse glass is broken, and the trellis past repair -
Ay, there's the wonder of the thing! Macavity's not there!
And when the Foreign Office finds a Treaty's gone astray,
Or the Admiralty lose some plans and drawings by the way,
There may be a scrap of paper in the hall or on the stair -
But it's useless to investigate - Macavity's not there!
And when the loss has been disclosed, the Secret Service say:
"It must have been Macavity!" - but he's a mile away.
You'll be sure to find him resting, or a-licking of his thumbs,
Or engaged in doing complicated long division sums.
Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macavity,
There never was a Cat of such deceitfulness and suavity.
He always has an alibi, or one or two to spare:
And whatever time the deed took place - MACAVITY WASN'T THERE!
And they say that all the Cats whose wicked deeds are widely known
(I might mention Mungojerrie, I might mention Griddlebone)
Are nothing more than agents for the Cat, who all the time
Are nothing more than agents for the Cat, who all the time
Just controls their operations: the Napoleon of Crime!
Labels:
cats,
national poetry month,
t.s. eliot
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
A Favorite Poem
Next month is National Poetry Month. May not mean much to some, but to poets in particular, and writers in general, it can mean a lot. For this blog, it means I'm going to post some favorite poems throughout the month. I will get with members of the group and find out their favorite poems and see if I can post them here, along with any comments the member has about why it's one of their favorites.
Now, I know April is a few days away yet, but I'm going to go ahead and share this, my all-time favorite poem. I first discovered it in high school and have been a big Edgar Allan Poe fan ever since, with this being my favorite work of his. Every time I read this poem, I can feel it in my heart. -Susan Bell-
Annabel Lee
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
Now, I know April is a few days away yet, but I'm going to go ahead and share this, my all-time favorite poem. I first discovered it in high school and have been a big Edgar Allan Poe fan ever since, with this being my favorite work of his. Every time I read this poem, I can feel it in my heart. -Susan Bell-
Annabel Lee
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
Labels:
annabel lee,
edgar allan poe,
national poetry month
Monday, March 26, 2012
Meeting Tonight
Our next meeting takes place tonight at the Spruce Pine Public Library. The usual time, 6pm, but in the room up front instead of the usual meeting room.
Hope to see lots of writers there.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Next Meeting: Tomorrow Night
Don't forget everybody, our next meeting is tomorrow night at 6pm in the Spruce Pine Public Library. Also, we'll be in the front room this time instead of our usual spot in the back meeting room.
Hope to see y'all there.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Struggling Writer
Is there such a thing as a writer who is not 'struggling' in some way? I mean, most writers don't make a lot of money at it, so there is that struggle. But then there are those few who makes tons of money but yet still have the struggle of coming up with the next story. Stephen King and James Patterson are the only ones who come to mind when I try to think of a writer who doesn't seem to struggle in either of these areas.
For those of us who live "regular" lives, one of the biggest struggles is trying to find the time to write. I have two businesses going (pet sitting and social networking) and I do some house cleaning. I am also getting ready to become a licensed insurance agent so that will be added to the mix. There just aren't enough hours in the day it seems.
My solution? Well, who needs sleep? I think I'm going to start writing late at night. I seem to get most of my ideas then anyway. I honestly thing when my body and mind are a bit fatigued (or more than a bit), my thoughts just seem to be more free to go off into some really odd tangents that might just make some really great stories.
What about you? When do you find time to write?
-S-
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Saturday, January 28, 2012
MEETING CANCELLED
Due to a scheduling mix-up with the meeting space, the regular group meeting scheduled for Monday, January 30th has been cancelled.
Sorry for the short notice.
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