“No, honey!” the mother said
reaching across that table and plucking
a crayon from her daughter’s hand.
“The sky isn’t pink. Here,
use this blue crayon.”
The little girl blinked tears.
The teacher leaned over,
and studied the picture.
“What a beautiful sunset
you’ve drawn!” she said.
.
.
For Charlotte, who is teaching crafts at the art gallery, and is amazed at some parents.
(early October)
I can’t go to conference this year.
Ahhh! Please come!
I can’t think what I’d pitch this year.
Stay with me!
Oh. I have that old thing I could share.
Come!
Okay.
(Mid-October)
Here, look at this piece.
I like it! Send me more!
Here, look at this piece.
I like it! Can I see more?
(November)
Yup. I really like it. Send it to her.
Here is the rest!
(December)
I like it! Let’s work together!
Here’s a contract!
.
and so begins the next part of the journey
and thanks to Leena because I could have missed it all!
You illuminate my life
like Christmas lights.
You create happiness
in bright coloured bulbs
You saturate my senses
like season’s greetings
You fill my whole being
with happy holidays
Clear out the inbox
An innocuous line
looks like the others
but wait! What’s that name?
The heart starts pounding
air around feels quite thin
A note from an agent
makes me stifle a grin
Is it good news or bad?
I click closing my eyes
Open one cautiously
and to my surprise
She writes that she loves it!
A contract’s attached
I shout to the rafters
New beginnings are hatched!
.
TRUE STORY! Happened today! About an hour ago, in fact. Now to read through the fine print of the attached literary contract. Large prestigious agency though, and an agent I was very impressed by when I watched her at a conference.
Wait. Time to celebrate with some new Fluevogs? 🙂 The fun and frolicsome Kitschy kitschy Boom Boom Vivs might be appropriate for this kind of a celebration…
Writers live life, twice, trice;
their words are worth most any price;
they wish, they dream, they dice & slice;
they craft their words, they stretch & splice;
Writers fly to many heights;
they make you see amazing sights.
Writers live most when they write.
This still cracks me up. True story from belly dance class! We were warming up, all moving in a circle doing a grape vine during this conversation. 🙂
So we were dancing away today and after learning that Ranndie had gone bungy jumping for her birthday, the discussion turned to sky diving. Ange told us that her friend who skydives regularly says that if you are considering it, you really have to be willing to commit or you shouldn’t go up. I observed, “like marriage.” Rachael nodded and added, “or heroin.”
I wake to
the scrape of the snow shovel
below my window,
and the rumble of
the plow on the road.
The air is white
with winter
now.
They lie
across my lids
stuck like caterpillars
Coyly magnifying
each magnificent blink,
each flirtatious flutter,
adding power to each
sultry glower,
Prepare prey
to be ensnared,
enter and be
rendered helpless,
as I flash
these false
eyelashes.
.
Today is hubby’s birthday, and I managed to get these lashes back on (last worn on my birthday, see photo above). They’re fun, but they sure feel weird! 😉
She is full
of dark visions.
She wears
prickly armour,
of protruding spikes .
She shows a
black expression
daring you to come closer
but you step
into her darkness,
with a candle of consideration
share her visions
and show her
what kindness looks like.
.
.
(For Robin, just one of my many amazing teacher colleagues).
The Americans
are gone.
The internet
is quiet.
Apparently,
Thanksgiving
really is about
face time.
How wonderful
to be thankful.
Shawn L. Bird 