In preparing to launch The Release this October, I’m dizzied by the ironies of releasing a book about releasing creative work. If ever there were an opportunity to heed my own advice! So between now and then I thought I’d share some excerpts, in part to give you a foretaste but mostly to remind myself. The Release shares spiritual […]
This Queer Divine Dissatisfaction Read More »
On a weekly basis, one client or another will tell me, “If I wind up on my deathbed without finishing this project, I’m seriously going to regret it.” This population of writers is, admittedly, peculiar; they share an intense enough degree of passion, compulsion, or vocation about writing to pay me good money. Or perhaps they seek
Well, friends, my decades-long obsession with revision has reached a new extreme. I’ve shamelessly messed with another author’s work. Is this even allowed? When my mother died, her study group was preparing to read Teilhard’s Divine Milieu. I picked up her beat-up paperback copy just as I began a two-year formation program in contemplative Christianity. One day my teachers
Celebration on the Altar of the World Read More »
A few years ago I submitted an essay to an anthology of queer Minnesotan writing. I called it “Wearing Bi-Focals” because it explored bisexuality as a lens much as my progressive lenses help my eyes integrate what’s near with what’s far. I sent the essay out and promptly forgot about it. Six months later the
Flourishing in Creativity’s Gift Economy Read More »
Years ago I coached a Buddhist priest in the development of his memoir. Unlike most beginners, Sensei V (as I’ll Christen him) cranked out a crummy but exceedingly workable rough draft in no time flat. Plagued by none of the usual hang-ups (self doubt, insecurity about “not being a real writer,” despair at how terrible his writing
“Let it go! Let it go!” Read More »
Perhaps because my first big writing project gave me room to articulate my sexual longings, come out bisexual, and figure out the implications for my Christian faith; perhaps because I’m drawn to spiritual and therefore intimate subjects, my first drafts (and often second and third) I tend to write for no one but me. Of course
Writing in the Cloud of Privacy & Unknowing Read More »
Twenty-five years ago, I met a woman in the Loft mentor series whose feedback was superb and whose prose I adored. When she mentioned her writing group, I was so overcome with envy I blurted, “Any chance you’re taking new members?” Sure enough, someone was leaving and I was most welcome. Two and a half decades later,
In Praise of Writing Community—And Fancy Cheese Read More »
As I write, Gwyn’s at the piano practicing a Beethoven Sonata, repeating trills, stumbling on scales, figuring out fingering. Distracting as her mistakes are, I find myself amazed that, after ten years of parental supervision, Gwyn is finally capable of cultivating for herself the joy of puzzling out a piece. Gwyn’s not naturally talented, but
Cherishing the Measureless Read More »
My family occasionally prays down by the Mississippi River with the Nibi walkers, a group of Indigenous women and other water-tenders. Water is life, so we plant our feet in the sand and offer thanks. One morning, the Anishinaabe elder Sharon Day translated her prayer for us: “Great Spirit, Gitchi Manitou, have pity on us.”
As a serious practitioner and teacher of one art form—writing—I don’t often share that I also play piano. Actually, I keep it secret. Why say anything when there’s no way in hell I’ll ever perform for you? I started taking lessons at age seven, two years before I began writing, and studied it relatively seriously,
Practice makes… pleasure? Read More »