Women Writing Up North

When Life Hands You Lemons, Make....

2009-04-22T12:06:00.000-07:00

....Poetry!

Our beloved son checked into rehab 6 weeks ago for problems with alcohol, drugs and severe anxiety, which he was self-medicating with the aforementioned substances.

It has not been a totally negative experience, I am happy to say. He is at a very good treatment center, which specializes in co-occurring conditions, so the anxiety is being treated, as well as the addiction. Also, my dear husband and I attended a fabulous parents' weekend, where we learned a lot about addiction (no distinction is made between alcohol and drugs...it's all addiction) and how to parent a child with this disease. And it IS a disease. All kinds of evidence exists of pre-disposing genes and brain hard-wiring that also makes the addicted brain different from the "so-called" normal brain (is any one of us really normal?).

Of course, writing has kept me sane during this episode in my life. Journaling and writing poetry. It's just what I do. And it does make me feel better, along with prayer and going to Alanon meetings and working my own 12 step program (yes, we parents get addicted to the child who is addicted to a substance). We, too, must learn that we are powerless over substances and our lives have become unmanageable.

Fortunately, my angst over this has yielded some decent poetry. I'll share one poem with you all.

Keep us in your thoughts and prayers...and keep writing, you never know when it will really come in handy and save your life...or at least your sanity!

Using

You never said, “I’ll take a shot
of alcoholism on the rocks
followed by a swig of depression,”
when you made your Faustian bargain.

Alcohol was your drug of choice,
mixed with reefer, speed,
Benzodiazapines, even cough syrup.
A crazy cocktail of isolation.

For months, you chased that first high:
A mad marathon of numbing
shades of grey haze,
en route to blackouts.

We pray your soul will still be
at the baggage carousel to reclaim
when you are once again sober.

Blessings,

Anni

I have Been Remiss

2009-04-16T14:42:00.000-07:00

...in not writing.

Much has happened since last September when I posted "life without power."

To hit on the highlights:

I have had 6 poems accepted for publication....

A retreat in November went swimmingly.

I attended a writers intensive in England in January...lots of fun and learned a lot.

My Women Writing for (a) Change class in Traverse City last fall nurtured my teaching skills.

In November, I moved back to Cincinnati and took a full time job in Marketing Research due to the economy.

I am still writing and TAKING classes at Women Writing for (a) Change in Cincinnati (the mother school).

Retreats in Michigan will continue to be offered twice a year, in July and November at the Augustine Center in Petoskey, MI.

And that's been my life....

Of course, I am still writing. Here is one of the poems that is being published:

The Apocalypse

We are all tourists,
passing through,
collecting souvenirs:
flamingo toothpick holders
demerits for venal sins.

War is fought daily
over minutiae, fodder
for the wrens’ nest.

Life is not all
black and white,
soon we shall all be
the color of strong
coffee with cream.

God spends her
capital on the
most wretched:
homeless vets
hooked on booze,
mothers who
commit infanticide,
paranoid schizophrenics.

Freed, they will lie on beds of
cottonballs and down
when the final evening falls
as the rest of us succumb to
endless meandering, collecting stuff.

Cheers, please write...

Anni

Life without Power

2008-09-17T07:35:00.000-07:00

Dear Writer Friends:

Life in the 21st century without power is an interesting thing. Right now, I am at a Panera Bread Company location because power is out at my house, which went black last SUNDAY because of a windstorm from the remains of Hurricane Ike.

Frankly, life in the 18th century is getting old, though I am grateful that the toilets work and we actually have hot water. It is scary how dependent we are upon electricity, but it also got me thinking about the poor people in Baghdad who have power only intermittently and live in a much hotter climate!

My daughter and I have been reading, doing crosswords ad nauseam, playing Scrabble, going to the movie theater (they have power) and otherwise occupying ourselves with out the technology of TV and the internet.

It's also a great time to write! I have been making journal entries to remember this time (where were YOU when the lights went out for 4 days in '08!). I am also writing a poem about the ordeal-- great fodder for poetry in this.

Generally, I have been very impressed by the consideration people are showing one another. At dead stop lights, people are treating them as four-way stops, letting each other go in an orderly fashion. At Panera, the guy with the power strip is letting people use it to connect and charge their computers. It is restoring my faith in man and womankind!

Duke Energy says that 85% of power will be restored today, but I have a funny feeling that the tree that downed the power lines for our little neighborhood may not be a high priority! So I won't be surprised if we are in the 15% who don't get their power back. And if that's the case, we'll deal. Fortunately, I snagged the last 2 battery operated lanterns at Meijer the other day and we can see. We have extra batteries and candles thanks to my best friend, whose power has been restored (stores are out of all necessities, including ice for the ice chest!).

Once we get power restored, I'm going to fix up at special "Power Out Kit" to put in the basement, with everything we need. Next time, instead of scrambling, we'll be prepared.

Good writing to you all. Wishing you plenty of fodder for your work, but hoping it's not due to a natural disaster!

Anni

2008-08-03T12:53:00.000-07:00

Dear Readers:

Have you ever wondered if you are a "real" writer? Well, here is a quiz for you to take to judge.

Yes No 1) You keep a journal.

Yes No 2) You love everything about words...definitions, origins, new words...

Yes No 3) You own at least one book on the art of writing.

Yes No 4) You've entered a writing contest (3rd grade counts!).

Yes No 5) You love word games (and hate Sudoku).

Yes No 6) When you start writing Haiku, you can't stop.

Yes No 7) You have The Writer's Almanac in your bookmarks/favorites.

Yes No 8) Your friends have accused you of using big words to confuse them.

Yes No 9) You keep a notebook by your bed in case something comes to you.

Yes No 10) You have written a poem (even a bad one).

7-10 Yesses -- Oh Boy, are YOU a real writer!

4-6 Yesses -- You are a real writer!

1-3 Yesses -- You may be a writer who is just getting started, keep it up!

0 Yesses -- You might want to stick to math or sports!

Blessings,

Anni Macht Gibson

Creative Writing Tips - How to Develop a Discipline

2008-07-23T09:03:00.000-07:00

Hello Fellow Creative Writers:

I'm often asked how best to go about developing a creative writing discipline. Sad to say, there is no "one size fits all" in this realm. But I do have some tips for those of you who want to write more.

1 - Write when you are at your best. Don't try to be creative when you've spent the day ferrying kids to activities, doing housework or have put in a full day at the office and are exhausted. Write when you are fresh.

2 - Prepare your writing space. Write someplace where you feel good. It could be a window seat, in the kitchen, in your bedroom. Surround yourself with pretty things. Light a candle. Put yourself in a good mood and the ideas will flow.

3 - Make Writer's Appointments. Use your calendar to carve out time for writing. Make this time sacred.

4 - Start Small. Don't take on the great American novel until you have some experience. Many women begin simply by journaling every day. Afterwards, scour your journal for phrases that can jump start a writing piece. The will be there.

And, of course, if you are in N. Michigan, join a Women Writing for (a) Change Up North class. Classes start on Aug. 30th, 2008. For more information on classes and free samplers classes on Aug. 2, 9, 16, and 23, see the website pages.

As usual, I'll leave you with a poem:

How to Change the World

First, do no harm.

See what others cannot.

Persist in the face of obstacles.

Be self-reliant -- it's up to you.

Battle bureaucracies like a fire-breathing dragon.

Let your idea posses you.

Do it backwards, upside down and inside out.

Start small and learn, then spread out.

Be child like in your desire to change the world.

Never take no for an answer.

Blessings,

Anni

Improved Website

2008-07-19T05:45:00.000-07:00

Dear Readers:

You may have noticed some changes to our website! I've been busy writing about Women Writing for (a) Change -- our values, our practices, our retreats -- to help you learn more about us before you give us a try.

Check out the new articles on confidentiality, values and practices in creative writing classes and retreats, diversity of writing, why I (personally) love creative writing, what the "change" in Women Writing for (a) Change is all about. I invite you to read about us, confident that you will be intrigued by what we have to offer.

I am still on a natural high after our wonderful retreat. In the next few days, you'll be able to check out writing from the retreat on the site. I hope this writing will inspire you to try your hand at some poetry, creative non-fiction, fiction, memoir or journaling.

Right now, I am preparing for the FREE sampler classes I will be holding in Traverse City at Just Imagine Creative Arts Center at 225 W. 14th St. each Saturday in August. Our weekly classes begin on Saturday, August 30th from 1:00 - 3:00 p.m., also at Just Imagine.

If you have any questions about Women Writing for (a) Change after browsing the site, contact us via email (anni@womenwriting.com) or call me at the phone number on the website.

As usual, I'll leave you with a poem, this time a short poem inspired by the Vietnamese Monk Thich Nhat Hanh:

compassion

cleansing open wounds,

tendrils of the heart unfurl

mindful of the pain

Blessings,

Anni Macht Gibson

Great Retreat!

2008-07-14T13:05:00.000-07:00

Hi, Fellow Writers:

We had a terrific retreat this past weekend at the Augustine Center in Petoskey, Michigan. Six women writers got together to inspire and encourage one another, to write and to share writing with each other. We had a terrific time....there were serious moments of sharing and lots of laughter, too. I drafted several new poems and some of the women were inspired to write late into the night.

The Augustine Center could not have been more hospitable and we offer our thanks to Sister Barbara who is the retreat center Director and Megan who ably prepared our meals and served them.

I always come away from retreats on a natural high from the terrific writing and the camaraderie of being with other creative writers.

Meanwhile, back in Cincinnati we have moved to our condo. Boxes await me down there as we finish moving in and making it homey.

But before I leave for Cincinnati, I am enjoying another beautiful, cool Michigan summer day with the sky a cerulean blue and the brilliant green of the leaves on the trees and bushes. I'll eat some fresh cherries for each of you and wish you happy creative writing.

Blessings,

Anni

Getting Ready for Retreat

2008-06-26T14:03:00.000-07:00

Hello, Readers!

Right now, I am busily preparing for our Summer Retreat at the Augustine Centerjsut North of Petoskey, MI on July 11-13. That means writing agendas, making up notebooks for each participant, thinking of writing prompts and exercises, nailing down details with the retreat center and the like. I also like to take some time for myself to meditate and center myself before leading a retreat so that I can be fully present to the retreatants and focused on holding the space for them.

My husband and I are in Cincinnati getting ready to move here from a house to a condo, so we can shut the door and spend more time in Michigan, without worrying about taking care of a lawn and flowers and bushes...you get the picture. We are happy to be moving somewhere where the outside responsibilities are taken care of for us. Move day is the 2nd of July, so just a few more days to organize before the move! We have de-cluttered and downsized and are storing some things for the kids in the future and getting rid of others. It feels good to "deaccession" things...clothes I haven't worn in years and will never fit again. In fact, I've put some things in storage and with the exception of one box, I can't even remember what I've put away. Clearly, we had too much stuff.

So, I'm looking forward to the move...getting unpacked as much as possible before I leave on July 8 for the retreat and then holding the retreat with my trusty assistant and friend, Bronwyn Park.

If you are interested in the retreat, don't hesitate to get in touch via the website. There is still some room, but we've got a good group of 8 women.

As usual, I'll end with a poem. This time, it is one I just got news will be published in the literary journal, The Pearl.

Ashes to Ashes

Cremate me.

Whatever you do,

don't give the undertakers

an extra dime!

Sing at the service.

Belt out my favorite

hyms, Like "Go Tell

It on the Mountain."

Off key, if you must.

Wear red and purple,

preferably together.

No somber garments

rent with anguished cries.

Cut a dashing figure, turn heads.

Celebrate my life: A wake

with booze flowing,

stories and good food.

Serve carrot cake

like we had at our wedding.

If you feel down

read Alexander

and the Terrible

Horrible, No Good

Very Bad Day.

Scatter my ashes

by Lake Michigan

where I wrote

poems that make

you weep and essays

that make you laugh

so hard you pee.

But give me a headstone

in the family plot, so

generations hence

will wander by

and know I was here.

Never mind that the grave is empty.

Blessings,

Anni Macht Gibson

Let Me Know You Are Out There....

2008-06-15T19:20:00.000-07:00

If you are reading this blog and have an interest in Women Writing for (a) Change Up North, don't be silent -- let me know. I am happy to answer any questions you might have about our classes and retreats.

I just returned from a Leaders' retreat and it was terrific. I came away with great facilitation ideas to use in classes and retreats, guaranteed to bring your most creative self to the fore!

The beginning of the retreat was for our own writing (even we leaders need writing retreats to jump start our creativity). I wrote 4 or 5 poems over the eight days of the retreat. WWf(a)C validates me, strengthens my voice, elicits creativity. My writing is held gently by those who listen to it. I get much needed feedback in a supportive environment. My voice is nurtured in the confidentiality of the writers' circle.

We are looking for women who want to take some time for themselves to develop their writing, discover their voices, awaken their creativity. If this is of interest to you, just contact me at gibby767@aol.com for more information.

As usual, I'll close with a poem, this time about writing.

AT THE TABERNACLE OF WRITING

My desk is an altar to the Goddess

of Writing, who blesses me

when I have been a good girl.

on it are gathered a brimming chalice

and plate, gleaming, ready

for my work: number 2 hb pencils,

chaste pads of paper, pages bearing

the imprint of their Maker: Staples,

resting beside my trusty Apple Macintosh.

Draped over a chair, the alb and stole of my vocation:

Levi 515 jeans, a white turtleneck, buttery soft

from ample washings, the incense of Tide and Downy.

I wake promptly at six, smack the alarm,

shake the sleep from my brain,

pad down the hall for morning ablutions,

I want to sit down to a feast of bran muffins

and Kenyan AA coffee from Zingerman's,

but perhaps I should fast before the ritual.

Still unclean, I scrub my thoughts with prayer,

intercessions for others and myself,

that a worthy stanza might stumble my way today.

Poised at the tabernacle of writing,

I reach for the Ark of the Covenant

and, ready, begin to receive a poem.

Blessings,

Anni

Whole Lotta Stuff Goin' On!

2008-05-28T06:12:00.000-07:00

Gentle Readers:

There is a lot going on with Women Writing for (a) Change Up North these days!

I am preparing for our July 11-13 Writing Retreat at the Augustine Center just North of Petoskey, Mi. For more information, check out the Retreat section on my site: www.womenwritingupnorth.com

Meantime, I'm getting ready to move from a house to a condo down South in Cincinnati...so there's a whole lotta work going on there. This is so we can spend more time Up North.

I'm also waiting to hear from 4 universities about getting into MFA/Creative Writing Programs - for poetry - and am on pins and needles until I get news.

Luckily, I have been writing regularly, with 5 more poem drafts in the past couple of weeks.

Classes: Boy am I excited to be offering Women Writing for (a) Change classes starting on August 30. Again, check out the website for details.

Women Writing for (a) Change provides a safe, structured community for women who want to continue or start a writing practice. All levels of experience and genres of writing are welcome!

As usual, I'll end my blog entry with a poem:
Bees

The redolent apple blossoms
await your arcane dance.
but you are absent this year.
Bumblees and carpenter bees abound,
but where is the dainty honey bee??

I read that there is a mold or a virus
infecting hives, killing half your kind.
Billions of dollars for cancer research,
is there enough left over to find you a cure?
For what would we do without
lead characters in the play of Life?

So many swat at you, not knowing
you are small Gods, blessing the world
with blue delphinium, russet apples, Big Boy tomatoes,
rhubarb for pie, honey on crusty home-made bread.

In the cherry orchards by my cottage,
you buzz around rented wooden crates
so you can pollinate delicate white flowers.
an alchemy that conjures juicy red fruit
for tourists to buy at roadside stands
on dry July days, the sky painted deep Michigan blue.

Queens, drones, worker bees --
we hope for your consonant hum.
There must be an ancient Navajo
dance for conjuring the bees,
if only I knew it.

Blessings,

Anni Macht Gibson

Welcome May and Writing Retreat

2008-05-10T13:43:00.000-07:00

Well, it is turning to Spring, albeit slowly, Up North. You'll get the picture from this poem from two weeks ago:

Awaiting Spring

Almost froze my ass off
getting gas today. April 26th.
Up North is not for thin blooded
Southern women who drink sweet-tea.

Forty-three degrees, blowing a gale,
the wood stove warms your shop,
where we drink strong coffee as you organize
drill bits, levels, lathe gouges and skews.

Sophie, with her spaniel’s keen nose
sniffs around for rodents in corners,
poking from one spot to the next,
disappointed with the results.

The mice huddle in their holes,
nesting with scraps of tissue
from the shredded box I should not
have stored in the closet under the eaves.

Come May the threat of snow
will vanish and we’ll emerge
into the sunshine, waiting
for lilacs to bloom and scent the air.

The threat of snow HAS vanished and we even have forsythia in bloom! I'm looking forward to those days that hit 70 degrees...so far it's been mostly in the 50's.

Back to writing and writing workshops. Northern Michigan is my muse and I've been writing up a storm. Lots of ideas.

My next event is a writing retreat in Petoskey the weekend of July 11-13, for $299. Take a look at my site for more details. As always, the retreat is guided, with writing prompts and chances to share your writing in small groups and with the entire retreat.

Lot's has been going in my life. I'm hoping to go back to school for my MFA in Creative Writing (Poetry Concentration) and have applied to 4 schools. Now it's nail-biting time as I wait for results.

Also, I just got word that another poem will be published in a literary journal. So I was riding on air, yesterday.

We move to our condo in early July and there is lots to do in the meantime.

I'd love to hear from anyone who finds the site...there is a way to reach me via the site or just email me at gibby767@aol.com -- be sure to put "Women Writing" in the subject.

Keep writing!

Blessings,
Anni Macht Gibson

I'm Back!

2008-04-15T10:24:00.001-07:00

Gosh, It's Been a Long Time...

since I have posted. Truthfully, I have neglected my site because of technical hurdles (changing from a pc to a mac) which are now solved.

Last fall, I offered my first Women Writing for (a) Change classes in Traverse City and we had a wonderful time writing, discovering and sharing our writings.

Then life got crazy. We needed to sell our Cincinnati house and buy a condo (it's impossible to maintain a house from 500 miles away!) and that necessitated my spending time in Cincy: de-cluttering, un-decorating and de-personalizing our home for sale. The good news is that we sold in 2 weeks in a down market. The condo is being updated (it was circa 1973) and we'll move in in July....either before or after my Weekend Writing Retreat, July 11-13 at the Augustine Center in Petoskey, MI.

My writing life has been very rich. Every day I write a poem is a good day and I have had plenty of good days. My latest poem is a haiku that was inspired by listening to Speaking of Faith with Krista Tippett on NPR. She had a Vietnamese Buddist master on and he represented the epitome of peace, calm and compassion.

Here is the poem this listening session spawned:

Compassion

Haiku inspired by Vietnamese Monk, Thich Nhat Hanh

Cleansing open wounds,
tendrils of the heart unfurl,
mindful of the pain

I am excited about returning to the Traverse City area in a week or two.

In addition, I received the fabulous news that a poem of mine is being published in the University of North Carolina - Charlotte - literary magazine, Sanskrit in May.

Here is the poem that is being published (I must admit it's a favorite of mine!):

I’m Not Really a Waitress

Hands down my favorite nail color,
“I’m Not Really a Waitress”
is come-on crimson,
imparting cachet, shedding caution
with each precise brush stroke.

But if “I’m not really a waitress,”
who the hell am I?
A glamorous diva singing Puccini,
my audience waiting
for the fat lady to sing?

The woman who waves the flag
at road construction sites,
jackhammer staccatos
punching my time clock?

Maybe a saucy CEO –
flush with bucks for a
weekly manicure, throw in
a massage for good measure.

No, “I’m Not Really a Waitress,”
shouts I’m a classy broad.
with well turned ankles,
confidence and conviction.

I’m not really a waitress,
but I can act like one
if you want me to, Honey.

I'm thrilled about being published.

Well, look for more information about retreats and classes. I am investigating an August retreat in Ann Arbor and am planning classes in Traverse City on Saturdays at 10:00 a.m. in the Fall.

Blessings to you all,

Anni Macht Gibson

My Book: Unfinished

2007-06-07T07:30:00.000-07:00

Dear Blog Reading Friends:

This is the cover of my book of poetry, just released by Woven Word Press. I thought I'd share the cover and a couple of poems from the book -- two of my favorites: the title poem and one on Rosa Parks.

Unfinished

Melancholy descends like a mother-in-law
arriving unannounced,
peeking through all your cupboards,
in all your most private corners,
until you throw your hands up in disgust,
leave your bagel on the plate
unfinished,
crawl beneath the covers to hide
from the obvious transparency
of all your flaws.

The painting sits,
only pinks and mauves daubed on the canvas,
as you forget
where you put the keys to your life.
One stanza of a poem moans with loneliness,
a one-sleeved sweater sits,
knitting needles akimbo.
The linen closet’s contents strewn
in the hallway attest to the fog,
descended
as you were matching striped pillowcases to sheets,
watermelon washcloths to their cousins the bath towels.

All the while, she lurks, reading your mail,
commandeering your haunts,
until there is just a tiny slice of you left,
peeping through the keyhole,
watching instead of living.

Then one day, fed up, you decide to throw her out,
summon the courage to tell her it is time.
You make the plane reservations yourself,

and when she is finally gone,
you batten down the hatches,
watching the midnight lift,
sunshine melt through the house,
buttery and rich,
alighting on that morning’s bagel.

Unfinished
on its blue willow plate.

You sit alone and begin to eat again.

Rosa Parks

What was she thinking?

Measuring hems,
taking fine stitches
with thimbled hand in 1955,
a department store
seamstress
to Montgomery’s finest ladies.

What alterations
to Alabama,
the seat of segregation,
did she contemplate
that destined day?

Inquisitive, Jim Crow
peered over her shoulder.
She sat
in middle seats
reserved for those of fated birth.

Quiet dignity
urged her to stay
when driver James Blake
ordered she stand
on worn feet
in sensible black shoes.

“To the back of the bus.”
Matter-of-fact,
he threatened
to call the police.

“You may do that,”
she rejoined, soft yet steely,
her proper grammar
and Mama’s good manners
an honorable hallmark
.
Ejected,
arrested,
fined ten dollars
and court costs,
courage took the reins.

Quiet icon making headlines --
erect, worthy of birthing
a movement she never intended.

“You may do that.”
A dignified refusal,
the fight song of a generation
whose cup of intolerance overflowed.

You can buy my book at www.womenwritingupnorth.com or at www.amazond.com.

Blessings,

Anni

New Poem...

2007-06-07T07:19:00.000-07:00

Every day that I write a poem is a good day. Writing thrills me. I like everything about it. The words, ideas that come to me and fleshing them out into a poem.

Here is a new poem about global warming.

Comments welcome.

Also...I am very open to reviews of my book. Just go to my website www.womenwritingupnorth.com to purchase. It's also available at www.amazon.com

Global Warming

God knows, this winter is
frightening for its lack of snow,
the absence of hands rubbing together
in the universal sign of cold.
Not this season
where December and January
have tried April on for size,
ditching our temperate climate,
for something more tropical.

We claim to mark time by four seasons,
but folks moan we have only two –
six months of summer, six of winter
with fleeting spells of spring and fall,
not worth mentioning but for
the occasional bijou, a jubilee,
crisp as an autumn apple,
wood smoke ticking the nostrils
or first warmth, teasing us
as we strip down to shirtsleeves,
losing layers of lambswool for linen.

They say this is an El Nino winter,
the little weather boy huffs and puffs
warm air our way, while some hope
for blizzards to keep us home
throwing extra logs on the fire,
sap jumping like popcorn.

Ambling about in light cotton sweaters
this January, I fret about the battles
my children and my children’s children
will live to fight. What catastrophes can I not
yet imagine? Twenty-first century plagues:
tidal waves drowning New York,
locusts ravaging Laramie,
pestilence in St. Paul?

Feeling small and lonely,
I religiously recycle newspaper,
carry cloth grocery bags,
bemoan the dearth of public transit.

What else can one person do, save pray?

Blessings,

Anni

Selling Books...

2007-06-05T07:16:00.000-07:00

...is the hard part, compared to writing it! Unless you are with a big publisher, you are pretty much on your own, calling bookstores -- sending out press kits.

On Sunday, I had a book-signing party which was awesome. All my good friends and family. I read 3 times during the party and was very well received (friendly audience, you know!). Sold almost 100 books, too!

I am learning book merchandising as I go. It's definitely a slog for a small press writer, but I relish the challenge.

I have a reading set up for June 30 at Horizon Books in Traverse City and hope that my Michigan community will come to that.

Now it is time to produce press kits, which I'll do myself. Plus I have fliers going out to libraries, book reviewers and 2000 independent book stores.

Ironically, while doing all of this, I have little time to write. Alas, alack!

Otherwise, life continues. Our daughter's graduation from high school is on Friday and then I go to a writing retreat. She leaves for Greece to study Art History and Painting the next week and then I leave for Michigan for a glorious month.

I have 3 samplers set up in Michigan at the Traverse Area Library -- go to my website, www.womenwritingupnorth.com if you are interested in the details. Each one is a sample Women Writing for (a) Change class. They are usually 2 1/2 hours long and this one is 1 1/2 hours. Lots of fun if you have ANY inclination to write and the samplers are FREE. So please come and bring your friends!

Off to work on press kits and accounting records, tra la, tra la!

Anni

On Becoming a Poet

2007-06-03T06:42:00.001-07:00

I did not start out saying "Today, I will become a poet." On the contrary, here I find myself a poet and have to reconstruct my path to this point. True, I've always like writing. Was editor of my high school newspaper. But I got side tracked by real life. The Corporate thing.

Coming out of school, like many young women my age in the mid-seventies of the last century, I didn't have the foggiest notion of what I wanted to do. When I entered college, all the Seniors were sporting engagement rings and going after M.R.S. degrees. I thought I'd probably do the same.

But in the 4 years I was in school, the world changed dramatically. Women began entering the workforce in droves. Women's lib was at its height and, frankly, I had to make a living like the next gal.

I got a degree in communications (well, for reasons I won't go into here, really one in Education with a concentration in communications) so that I could go into PR...a job that requires writing. An idealistic young woman, I wanted to do non-profit P.R. But no one would hire me without experience. And besides, "non-profit," it turns out, is non-profit for everyone, including employees.

As a native Cincinnatian, there was one major employer in town for which everyone aspired to work: Procter and Gamble. The great Soap Factory. My grades were good, I had shown some leadership ability in college and I interviewed well enough to get a job in promotion...not quite non-profit and not quite P.R., but close enough.

And so was born a 24 year career in business. Yes, I wrote, but it was expository writing and creativity was limited to figuring out what words would make an idea sell to upper management. Not exactly poetry.

It wasn't until I took an early retirement package in 2001 to care for my elderly, dying parents that other worlds opened up. P&G had been a more than full time job...and during my years there, I was also a young mother of two and a wife. No time for creative endeavors on the side. I am no longer so young, am still a mother of two kids, who are more grown up and am still a wife.

After my parents died two things happened. First, I felt freed of parental expectations for success and decorum. Suddenly, I could be anyone I wanted to be. The world was my oyster. Second, I rediscovered my love for writing.

I was in pain over the loss of my parents and poetry was cathartic. What I wrote was intimate and not anything I would share with anyone but my husband or best friend (BFF). But I did find I enjoyed playing with words in the very tight, very short-short stories that are poems.

I began to read modern poets: Jane Kenyon, Ted Kooser, Billy Collins, Naomi Shihab Nye, Lucille Clifton. I noticed that their poetry made observations of the world. Each little story contained a vignette or a moral or an "aha" moment. I began to emulate this model and to write a different kind of poetry. This poetry I could share with the world.

Well, the world is a big place to start with, so I began by finding a writing group, Women Writing for (a) Change, where I could share my poetry in a small and supportive group. I then ventured out to my church's poetry group (yes, my Episcopal church has a group that meets once a month or so to share poetry -- one's own and famous poets').

Finally, over four years or so, I developed a body of work. I was nearing 60 or so poems about which I felt pretty good. I started to think about publishing.

Of course, I had no idea how to go about this. All I was told is "poetry doesn't sell." A maxim in the book-selling world, apparently.

I was unfazed. I went to the poetry section of my local bookseller and began looking at publishers who had printed books that were on the shelves. I started sending them my work. Especially if they had a web address.

BINGO...I got a hit. Woven Word Press in Boulder, CO loved my poetry and offered to publish me.

The rest, as they say is history. And, I suppose, I am now officially a poet.

At least that's what I put down on forms (like my daughter's college matriculation questionaires) that ask for an occupation.

It feels good. It all feels very, very good.

Try it, you might like it, too!

I'll leave you with a poem about the process of becoming a poet:

Don’t Quit Your Day Job

Don’t quit your day job
the little voice on her left shoulder says.

Stay a waitress, pink uniform and apron
fitting a trim figure, easy to keep
with the walking and hefting of orders
for customer’s tips -- her favorite, the
regular who left her twenty and told
her to go buy a condominium.

Don’t quit your day job,
the insistent voice nags, nags, nags.

Be a doctor, a lawyer, an Indian chief.
Daddy says get on the payroll at the plant,
what with the benefits and all. Or go to school
to be a nurse, slapping the cold steel scalpel
into the doctor’s deft and waiting hand.

Don’t quit your day job,
the little voices cries,
afraid of consequences
unthinkable, unspoken.

Don’t quit your day job, abandoning
the security of teaching at a school
with thirty to a class and a policy
manual the size of a small atoll.

Don’t quit your day job,
to be a poet,
doing the minuet with words
sifting through junk for the perfect phrase
to make the reader’s gut zing ,
or to be an artist,
transforming everyday forms
with perspective, moving her audience to tears.

Don’t quit your day job
for dreams heavy with hope,
a Vegas dose of risk and the
temptation to do what you love.

Don’t quit your day job?
Hah. Watch me.

Blessings,

Anni

The Books are Coming, The Books are Coming...

2007-05-18T12:59:00.000-07:00

...I'm so excited! Just got word that my books are on their way. Unfinished and other poems is a reality and on Tuesday I'll get my mitts on them when the inventory is delivered to me.

This book has been 4 years in the making, though a reality for about 6 months in the form of a dream I could make come true, through my wonderful publisher, Sheila Dierks at Woven Word Press, Boulder, CO.

The book consists of 75 poems...small stories that celebrate the ordinary.
Each poem stands alone, a vignette from life.

Someone asked me where I get ideas for poems...and, really, they come from many different places. They come to me when I am reading, driving around...just observing the world. Often a set of words will come to me - the title of a poem or a phrase that I have to write down so I won't forget it.

Writing makes me so happy. I love everything about the process. The ideas, capturing a first draft...even the editing is fun for me. I'm very lucky to have found my calling...even at 54+ years of age.

If anyone out there is reading this, please let me know about your writing process. Or about whatever calling is yours and makes you happy.

I leave you, cheerfully anticipating the arrival of my book...

Anni Macht Gibson

Welcome To Women Writing for (a) Change Up North

2007-05-10T08:09:00.000-07:00

Welcome to Women Writing for (a) Change Up North. To learn more about us, go to www.womenwritingupnorth.com. We offer writing retreats that provide a safe place for women to tell their stories. If you are a woman in the Grand Traverse/Leelenau/Charlevoix/Petoskey area who journals, writes fiction, poetry, non-fiction or plays, Women Writing for (a) Change could be for you!

What do we do? We gather to share writing, inspire one another and listen to one another's words. We celebrate writing and women's stories. All of this is done in a safe, non-threatening environment that is perfect for new and experienced writers alike.

I will be offering weekend writing retreats in November, 2007 and January 2008.

In additon, this month, my first collection of poetry is being published by Woven Word Books. Unfinished and other poems will be available in Horizon Books, Borders in Traverse City, on Amazon.com and through my website by June 1, 2007.

Here is the title poem, Unfinished.

Unfinished

Melancholy descends like a mother-in-law
arriving unannounced,
peeking through all your cupboards,
in all your most private corners,
until you throw your hands up in disgust,
leave your bagel on the plate
unfinished,
crawl beneath the covers to hide
from the obvious transparency
of all your flaws.

The painting sits,
only pinks and mauves daubed on the canvas,
as you forget
where you put the keys to your life.
One stanza of a poem moans with loneliness,
a one-sleeved sweater sits,
knitting needles akimbo.
The linen closet’s contents strewn
in the hallway attest to the fog,
descended
as you were matching striped pillowcases to sheets,
watermelon washcloths to their cousins the bath towels.

All the while, she lurks, reading your mail,
commandeering your haunts,
until there is just a tiny slice of you left,
peeping through the keyhole,
watching instead of living.

Then one day, fed up, you decide to throw her out,
summon the courage to tell her it is time.
You make the plane reservations yourself,

and when she is finally gone,
you batten down the hatches,
watching the midnight lift,
sunshine melt through the house,
buttery and rich,
alighting on that morning’s bagel.

Unfinished
on its blue willow plate.

You sit alone and begin to eat again.

I hope you like the poem and will buy the book for more.

Again, Welcome to Women Writing Up North