Here are two excerpts with links to the full reviews:

From Patrick Reardon’s blog:

“… Davis’s words about writing do ring true. So do the stories in this book. They aren’t for the risk-aversive.

“As she headed for the door, Tanya told herself not to look back, but couldn’t resist, and was arrested by what she saw. Jeremy had lifted her old-fashioned glass and fit the print her Dior lipstick had left against his own bottom lip. He held it there, eyes nearly closed, body relaxed against the half-kiss of the glass.

If that doesn’t make you want to read the rest of the story, I don’t know what would. Read more …”

~ Patrick Reardon, Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist

And from Stephanie Lipsey’s blog:

“… let the stories speak for themselves. Read each one with care. It takes a tribe to maintain the flames, and each writer lives up to the task … I highly recommend this anthology, as a librarian, writer, yoga teacher and mostly, as a girl who likes a good story. And who doesn’t like a good story ‘round a fire?” Read more …

~ Stefanie Lipsey, writer, poet, workshop facilitator and and librarian

True story:

Rama (black cat) stares at a bi-fold door on the floor. The door has been taken down from its frame temporarily so that the dryer could be pulled out of the laundry closet and repaired.

Rama, sits, and stares, and stares, for hours and hours. He’s a patient mouser, and there’s something under that door.

Something is under that door.

Rama waits, and waits. He waits all day.

Momma cat (i.e., head cat, i.e., ME – author of this blog) takes out pellets for a snack. The other four cats quickly come running, and have a few kibble-pellets off the floor.
Rama ignores pellet sounds and smells, and stares at the bi-fold door. He’ll wait all night until that mouse comes out. Then, when it comes out, he’ll get it. He’s amazingly fast for a big cat. He’ll play with the mouse and slowly kill it, as cats often do. Unless I rescue it.

Finally, hours later, husband picks up the door to reinstall. The mouse darts out. Rama grabs it.

Rama makes a big production, carrying mouse around and growling and acting proud. Then Rama releases mouse. Mouse is unharmed.

Mouse looks at Rama, and mouse stands still. Is mouse offering his life, or simply smart enough to know not to move?

Rama looks confused.

Rama grabs mouse again, tosses it around, acts proud, and lets mouse go.

Again, mouse stands right in front of Rama, not moving.

Rama again looks confused. This is too easy!

Husband takes pity on the mouse, grabs it (mouse lets him), and puts mouse outside in the garage.

???

Conclusion (?) — we are feeding Rama WAY too well, OR the mouse wanted to die…or…the mouse was very smart and threw Rama a curve ball.

Silly cats.

##

Jamie keeps Chris and me in his sight. He wants to be with us, and he wants us to be with him. We do the best we can, and honor Jamie’s wishes. Jamie is polishing us, refining us. Love, sadness, heartache surround the house in a huge golden light. Love overrides it all. Sadness with love is a sweet kind of sadness. I am learning I am better than I realized. Chris is learning about the depth of his love. His heart is cracking open.

I had a good friend, an artist, who died several years ago. She had cancer and chose to pass at home with minimum medical intervention. My friend, and her hospice worker, referred to this period of time as the long stretch. It was then I realized death is a process, not a concrete occurrence that happens all at once.

Death is a stretching. A twine exists between you and the other being. It seems it could stretch to infinity. Perhaps the quality of the twine simply changes, when the being passes on from this world. I’d like to think the twine never breaks.

Jamie is dying. Jamie is getting ready to say goodbye. The twine is stretching.

##

Read about this labor of love at www.storieswekeep.com.

Stories We Keep was conceived two years ago by two phenomenal women who are also writers and yoga instructors (Dawn Curtis and Robin Bourjaily). Five of us were learning to give workshops that meld yoga and creativity (the actual Yoga as Muse ™ process). Naturally, our creative juices were flowing. Dawn and Robin decided to create an anthology that would not only honor our creative writing, but would showcase our own creative processes and give insight into how yoga facilitates our own writing.

The product is beautiful.

You can visit www.storieswekeep.com to purchase the book (print or e-book), but there’s more on the website. We’ll share our thoughts on creativity, yoga, and how to best honor our creative lives. You can join in the conversation by responding to our discussions. Go and take a look.

The synergy of a new creative work, especially one created by several people, is a very special phenomenon. I hope you will sense some of that special quality at www.storieswekeep.com .

Visit www.storieswekeep.com to learn more. Stories We Keep will be available through this website, in print or e-format, beginning March 1. The website will also offer blog contributions from all of us, and opportunities for you to participate in discussions on creativity.

“Well,” said my cousin, half-joking, “it had to be better than that ______ (insert the name of a very local radio show where people call in to say they have stuff for sale).” And I cringed.

Community

I cringed because I can remember when I probably would have said the same thing. (Yikes.) At one time, these small town thingies seemed odd and silly to me; perhaps quaint or a waste of time. Now, I think they’re neat. It’s actually a form of community. I know the people who run the radio show. I might be interested in the objects for sale. Hey, maybe not everyone in the world gets turned on by skijouring equipment for free, or a beautiful $200 oak dining table and chairs (which I coveted, but didn’t have the money for at the time, sadly) – but I do.

My cousin means no harm by her statement. I cringed mostly because it reminded me of how much I may have changed. I could try and try to explain to my friends and relatives there that yes, I have a life up here in the woods. A rich life. But I bet some of them would never be convinced of it. And yes, every place has its pros and cons. Sometimes I yearn for things that are far away. I wish I could get to the opera without driving for hours. I miss the Ordway. I want sushi nearby. But I also love being able to ski outside the back door. I love the quiet, which helps me think. I love the stars. It’s all a matter of perspective.

Social Media as Small Town Community

I read something very interesting on my Kindle the other night. I had downloaded an ebook on social media marketing for writers. The author compared social media to small town living, because social media is all about relationship. I thought that was pretty neat. Finally, a way I can think about social media. Suddenly it doesn’t seem so cold and big. Relationships. Humans need these, even if they can’t always be face to face.

What am I doing? Trying to use social media more. Trying to give it the time it deserves. I like the relating.

How about you? Do you enjoy using social media, or find it another chore? (Quite honestly, I’ve been in both places.) Do you like the ability that we now have to relate to people in this way?

Till next time,

Cat

Yoga as Muse ™ uses the very simple and effective tools of yoga (movement and breathing) to help writers and artists create and sustain momentum in their creative work. You can use the tools of Yoga as Muse to create momentum in your work, keep distraction at bay, and access a deep and subconscious level of creativity. It’s very simple, and very very effective. I use it every day in my writing work as well as my life.

If this sounds like a method you’d like to use to engage with people and to help writers (and artists and others) create and sustain creative momentum, then read on.

I can’t speak for other artists, but I can tell you that writing can be a lonely process! And more importantly, writing can be a sedentary process. When we sit for too long, we can lose momentum in our work. If we’re accountable to only ourselves, how do we keep going?

If you love working with people and helping them use their bodies and tap into their deeper awareness to create momentum in their own creative practices, consider taking this training.

Yesterday a good friend and I were talking about how important actual movement is. If we move our bodies regularly during the day, we create more momentum around what’s important in our lives. It never fails.

Movement is important for all of us. Awareness and movement are just a few of the gifts that the ancient art and science of yoga brings us.

Here’s an excerpt from the Yoga as Muse facilitator training page that sums up whether this training might be for you:

This training is right for you if you’re a creative practitioner, yoga teacher, counselor, coach, physical therapist, or anyone with a creative practice ready to:

• embrace this amazing creative life & what you have to share with your own right people
• trust yourself and honor your unique gifts as a facilitator
• deepen your creative tool belt so you’re equipped with extraordinary advantages as a facilitator, coach, consultant, or leader
• learn substantial ideas and information that you’ve always been curious about regarding the body, the mind, creativity, and group facilitation
• be part of a new field of embodied creativity and embodied learning

Again, go to this page if you’re interested in reading more about or signing up for this facilitator training. It is an intense experience that it well worth it. Creator and teacher Jeffrey Davis is a phenomenal teacher and you will leave the training fully equipped to give workshops and work one-on-one with people, using the Yoga as Muse approach.

I’m comfortable in the city, but I had a patch of time on the last visit when I wondered what in heck I was doing there. Everything felt so…cold. And it was! The temp was hovering near the zeros. But worse, I felt anonymous.

There’s a line in my short story “Farmwoman” where the narrator says “I’ve become invisible in the city.” (She’s an older woman who was forced to leave her homestead and come to town and live in assisted living). That’s how I felt for an instant, in the city. I wandered into Trader Joes looking for lettuce. The store was full of people milling about, and it seemed that none of them were interacting in a meaningful way! For one moment, I wished I were in my small town grocery store, where I might actually run into someone I knew, who might actually stop and talk to me for a minute.

We’re complicated, we humans. I like to work alone, but I need my connections too.

When I first moved to the small town, many years ago, it freaked me out to go into town and get noticed by everyone. I wanted to be anonymous. Now, I don’t care for the anonymity in the city. How strange is that?

Stranger still, I can’t put my finger anymore on the personality of this city I grew up in. I really have “moved” to a different place. When I visit the city, I no longer feel like a native. I’m a visitor.

I think that Place can have a personality. The place where I live can have a stark personality, a personality of beautiful hardships, and knowledge of the land that simmers under the surface of the sameness of rural reality. The nuances of greatness are there if you know how to look for them. I think it takes some time living in a place to start to hear and see and sense these nuances.

I’ve completed a new short story collection that I will start sending out at the end of January. Like My Heart, it has to do with Place, but other themes emerge as well. Stay tuned!

I have two quick announcements of book readings that I’ll be part of, this week:

I’ll be reading live at the Loft in Mpls (www.loft.org) with Ann Iverson and Tony Bukoski at 7 pm on Thursday December 8.

I’ll be reading live at the True Colors Bookstore (www.truecolorsbookstore.com) in Mpls with Kathryn Kysar and Ellen Lansky at 7 pm on Friday December 9.

These should be lots of fun. The audience will get a mix of authors and genres – poetry, fiction, possibly creative nonfiction. Come and enjoy the written/spoken word.

I hope to see you or meet you there.
Thank you!
Cat