“Is It True Dear Sue?”

In the Spring of 1862, Emily Dickinson wrote the words “The heart wants what it wants, or else it does not care” in a letter to her friend Mary Bowles. She was offering Mary consolation, as her husband was going abroad for an extended period of time. At the same time, Emily admits that there is really no way to console her friend, because the heart has a mind of its own and the friend’s husband will still be missed, even as she is assured of his return.

Throughout Emily’s 55 years she was never known to have a romantic relationship, but the letters she left behind suggest she did have several intimate relationships, which she “tells it slant” about in her poetry. “Tell it slant” was a phrase used in another poem of hers, whose first line is “Tell all the truth, but tell it slant” which seemed to suggest that rather than shocking a person with the whole big truth at once, one should start from a circuit around it and gradually reveal the whole picture. The phrase “tell it slant” has come to be associated with Dickinson and each year the Emily Dickinson Museum in Amherst holds a Tell It Slant poetry festival and gives a Tell It Slant award.

In researching analysis of “Is it true dear Sue?”, most agree that those words were directed to her lifelong friend, love and sister-in-law, Susan Huntington Gilbert with regards to Emily’s brother Austin, whom Sue would go on to marry. Emily is questioning whether or not there are now two who love her, and competing for her love.

Todays Carol and Emily poem is based on a real experience that I had at the end of a long term relationship, one that ended slowly, and slant, but led us both to where we belonged, with another.

“The world is round, and the place which may seem like the end, may also be the beginning.”

Ivy Baker Priest.

The Gift & Power of Showing & Telling

Remember that one day of the week in Kindergarten? The day you were allowed to bring that special object of yours and tell the entire class all about it and why it was special to you? That’s what writers do every day, whether they are poets or novelists, screenwriters or essayists, they tell stories and paint pictures with their words. Today happens to be International Writer’s Day, a day established to recognize and honor those who chose a lifetime of show and tell.

There’s a so called Golden Rule of Writing that says you should show instead of tell, by using sensory details that allow the reader to be immersed in the scene or emotion, as if they were there, experiencing the action or sensing a character’s personality traits. Emily was quite adept at explaining abstract concepts using imagery and concrete objects that readers could easily relate to. In other words, she was really good at show and tell. When I read her work, I get the feeling that like me, she viewed words as almost sacred conveyors of emotions, thoughts and stories. The following quote illustrates her understanding of the power they hold.

“I know nothing in the world that has as much power as a word. Sometimes I write one, and I look at it until it begins to shine.”

Emily Dickinson

My quote about the power of words.

Today’s Carol and Emily poem is about words, writing, and the hope that in sharing our words, we writers touch hearts. And perhaps, some of our words even shine.

Sunset In A Cup

I’ll never stop being the girl who drags people outside to watch a sunrise or sunset. The power, magic and majesty of each one fill me with the awe of a child, still. My phone is filled with hundreds of photos of them that my husband believes all look alike. But I can see the difference in every one, remembering the time and place each was taken, who I was with, what the air smelled like, and how gravity held me in stillness as I breathed it all in.

In her poem beginning with this line, Emily wonders about many things. It’s about the many wonders of nature, who created them, and of course her immense pleasure in the spectacle of the sun setting. I share in that pleasure. It fills my soul. If even if for a short time, I’m filled with peace and the knowledge that there is always beauty to be found. Life goes on and begins again, every morning, giving new hope to us all.

*When trying to find words rhyming with need, I learned that “mead” is honey wine, sometimes flavored with fruits, spices and grains. The word fits perfectly.

Happy Sunday!

Future Spawn

A year ago today, I was lucky enough to be chosen to participate in the first annual Story Summit upon a Royal Caribbean cruise ship. We sailed to the Caribbean for an immersive 5 day mentoring experience with some of the worlds most talented authors, screenwriters, and industry professionals. One week later the world would stop due to COVID-19, but the relationships begun on that trip would not stop. Books would be published, screenplays optioned, and the support and encouragement for all of the participants would continue. I count it as the absolute best thing that happened in 2020.

Since that time, another (COVID safe) summit was held at Cape Cod and a Writer’s School was developed with a wide array of classes and phenomenal teachers. Tonight we’re celebrating our 1st birthday by getting together via Zoom to reminisce, catch up and celebrate the Story Summit and all the learning, joy, success and camaraderie it has brought us.

Today’s Carol and Emily poem speaks of sailed toward dreams and that’s exactly what we were all doing on that cruise, working on our projects and trying to create our own individual future spawns.

Of course no one is cruising now, but whatever your dreams are, I hope you’re sailing (figuratively) towards them.

Artwork -R. L. Lewis

Not Anyone’s Spiritless Girl

Emily Dickinson, known by most as only a reclusive eccentric, lived life her own way, just as everyone should. By all accounts, and as her poetry reveals, she was the farthest possible thing from spiritless. Not only did she defy the traditional role of women during her time, but she wrote poetry in her own unique style and by her own rules. Today’s offering speaks for both of us.

Perseverance

No, I’m not referring to the famed Mars rover that just touched down yesterday after a more than 6 month journey. But how amazing is that? I’m talking about the fact that Emily Dickinson continued to prolifically write, even in the face of no real encouragement from her parents or those in the publishing world at the time. Only 7 of her poems were published during her lifetime, but writing was a passion she could not let die, a flower she continued to nurture, a hunger unabated.

I can be really hard on myself at times for not meeting goals I’ve set. Like on this project, where my goal is 5 poems a day and I’m dreadfully behind. But I am pretty proud of the fact that I’ve continued to write publicly for the past 11 years. I have persevered, even when my stats or followers didn’t sky rocket. I’ve been honest about times when the words wouldn’t come, but I’ve never given in to thinking it wasn’t worth it. Even if no one ever read my words, like Emily, I still need to write them.

When I taught 6th grade, I constantly encouraged kids to persevere in the face of difficulty, telling them that quitting was the only way to fail. Like the NASA engineers who had to wait 6 months to see if they would be successful in landing the rover on Mars, we may not immediately know the full impact our words, our art or our work, but we only fail if we stop doing it. So hang in there. I’m rooting for you, and I hope you are for me too.

Here’s today’s offering, which includes a reference to Washington Irving’s Rip Van Winkle.

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Making The Best of A Pandemic Fat Tuesday

I love the fact that folks in NOLA are decorating their porches and yards. Seeing them, even from far away through the magic of satellites and video imagery puts a little joy in my heart. No parades this year, but we can still mask up and go get the King Cake, dig out our beads and the red Solo cups and pretend we are just as happy being wherever we are. Personally I’d be happier if this pandemic was over and I could safely travel to hug my kids and grandkids. That in itself would be worthy of a parade!

As it is, I’m extremely happy and grateful that it’s 68 degrees here and that I have power, unlike so many millions across the country today. I’m currently in my home office, listening to my ocean sound machine and just completed 5 more poems for the project.

Speaking of my home office, I had to devise a new system for letting my husband know I’m in the creative zone and shouldn’t be disturbed. Yesterday I got a little finger-tapping- impatient with him when he burst in and started “sharing” something with me while I was trying to write. I did have the door closed, but that was also because we had a service person here about our AC and I wanted to isolate myself.

The good news is that this pandemic has given us lots and lots of together time. The bad news is that this pandemic has given us lots and lots of together time… So, there I sat at my computer desk, listening to him share the details of a frustrating phone call and a few minutes in I started tapping my fingers as if impatient. I swore I didn’t mean to. It just happened, and well, you can imagine the rest. So now I have a new system. If my office door is closed AND has a scrunchie on it, (hearkening back to college days) that means Please Do Not Disturb.

I hope you can think of something to celebrate today. Maybe just that it’s Tuesday and one day closer to the weekend, maybe your kid completed their virtual school session without tears, or maybe you got a vaccine appointment for you or someone you love. Maybe you just kept it together on this 340th day since the US Covid crisis began. Tell Alexa to turn up the tunes and have a little conga line parade in your house.

Here’s today’s Carol and Emily offering.

My Eyes Have Always Been Bigger Than My Stomach

Today is Day 28 of The Carol and Emily Project and I should have 140 poems completed. I have 40, five of which I wrote this morning between the hours of 2 and 4 AM. It’s a good thing I don’t have an agent pushing me to produce and stay on schedule (yet). Actually, I do work best under pressure. (Email me if you’re into being a pushy agent.) I also tend to think I can do it all because I have done it all for most of my life. Putting your butt in the chair is the place to start, but that doesn’t guarantee creativity will be responsive when you call.

A little voice inside says I’ve bitten off more than I can chew and another little voice says shut the hell up and just write. So that’s what I’m doing. I did go back to sleep for a couple of hours, conquered some housework/laundry, had a virtual home-school session with a grandson via Zoom and then hit the notebook/computer again.

I’ll be sharing at least one new poem every day. I hope you’re interested enough to follow along and see what becomes of it all.