Writing Books Written by Women

Natalie Goldberg. How could I have forgotten Natalie Goldberg? Wild Mind. Writing Down the Bones. And I found on my goodreads list, If You Want to Write: A Book about Art, Independence and Spirit, by Brenda Ueland. I need to read it again, because although I raved about it, I do not remember it. Brain fade. Power save. I'm going to find it right now, and buy one. And if I forget I own it, I'll buy it again.

Books on Writing Written by Women

A screenwriter shared with another screenwriter a list of writing books. All were written by men. Since I was cranky about this sort of thing at the time, I tried to find more books about writing written by women; more than those I know and own and appreciate. Until I find more, here we begin. Julia Cameron, The Artist's Way. Francine Prose, Reading Like a Writer. Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird. Carolyn Heilbrun, Writing a Woman's Life. I looked up Frances Marion, a woman who made a fabulous living screenwriting in 1920s' Hollywood. She published a book in 1937 How to Write and Sell Film Stories, and I just put a hold on it from Hope College. I LOVE Michigan's library system. Web wandering, I found Leigh Brackett, a woman writer with a long career in many writing genres, including screenwriting. Unknown yet if she wrote anything about the writing process. Stay tuned. Keep writing!

Deaf C.A.N. Interpreters Sign Wicked at Wharton

We three sisters saw Wicked at the Wharton Center in East Lansing yesterday. It was a beautiful day, wonderful performance and a marvelous experience altogether. The musical had two sign language interpreters: Henry Lowe and Tracey Romano. The two were lyrical, expressive, wondrous, and my eyes were riveted on center stage, and on Henry and Tracey performing as well. I called Wharton today to discover if the two men were with the Wicked 2nd national tour, or Michigan interpreters. Nina Silbergleit, Director of Patron Services, returned my call, and said the interpreters are with Michigan's Deaf Community Action Network. After hiring Deaf C.A.N. interpreters for a previous Broadway tour performance, she retains their services for all shows so interpreted. Wicked won 3 of the 11 Tony Awards it was nominated for in 2003/4, and I think the American Theatre Wing needs to honor also those who interpret performances for the hearing impaired with heart, skill and empathy as rich as we saw yesterday. Bravo! Wharton Center and Nina Silbergleit for accessibility options, Bravo! Wicked, and Bravo! Henry and Tracey.

Using Your Voice for a Change

Leah Lambaria started selfworks.org. You can read about her mission on the site, and get a glimpse of the energy uplifting Leah is engaged in, and while you're there, sign on to get invitations to Share Circles. Believing that our stories are inspirational to other people- and that what we need to learn, we teach- Leah asked friends, colleagues, women's circle participants to share a personal story. It was a privilege for me to guide the first share circle. I have difficulty using my voice. My true voice, with authentic expression of who I really am. I write, blog, talk, mostly armored with the protective devices I have picked up since birth. Many of us speak to improve our lie (in the golf sense-about moving the ball), impress, obfuscate. The noble reason is to view ourselves in the best possible light. The hidden reason is to hide our perceived flaws, our subordinate position to the audience, whatever other ego stuff we've donned, or cannot see. In the spirit of authenticity, I did not prepare. What was going to come out would come out. I was among friends, in a safe and loving environment. Nothing bad could happen; only good would result for all of us. I would feel what being true to me felt like. And that's what happened. It was a beautiful experience. I encourage you to tell your story, in whatever way, and however loudly you are able. Do this among friends, and feel the joy.

Sunyata and Potatoes

I woke from an active dream yesterday in which my lucid brain was trying to write my dreaming brain a message. Literally, on a piece of paper with black ink. It was one word. Ademuth, asemuth, absemuth, something I could not recapture. Frustrated, I wrote what I just wrote here on a 3x5 card, and got on with the day. This morning, finding this card on my desk, and another that read "do Barb's honey label," I first made Barb's raw honey label, and then ruminated on the word. Azimuth came forward out of the dark. Looked that up. I know I knew that word, but I have no idea what my brain was sending me about that word. Planetary alignment? Words with z? How High the Moon? Noodling on the internet, I bumped into Saturn/Venus, Jupiter viewing early mornings this month. Trine, conjunct, quincunx and all that. Then I chose an Osho Zen Tarot card and got the Major Arcana No-thingness (sunyata). Then I read Pisces at Free Will Astrology, in which I was reminded that while the Spanish were looking for El Dorado gold in the New World, what they brought home was the potato. Then I stopped to feel the energy zooming around my body. I looked up sunyata (soon-yuh-tah), and decided I will not have time in this incarnation to learn everything I think I want to know. And that is the message from this morning. The energy zooming around my body is universal energy. Life is the journey from nothingness to nothingness. And in between, there are fun, interesting, joyous, awesome, quixotic, maddening, delightful, gorgeous, crazy, wonderful sidetrips. And potatoes. Why worry?

Mother Nature Does Improv

Anti-Aging

Anti-aging. What does that mean? I'm against aging? You're against aging. We all are going to fight aging with every breath we take. We will wrest control of aging from...uh...you know, whoever has control of it right now. No. This is not our word. This is a marketing word, a gimmick, trickery. 30-something guys in NY and Paris came up with this word because they work at advertising agencies that sell us the prestige beauty products we buy. How much money do we spend on this war against getting old? Just the anti-aging products alone in the U.S. only are worth $300 billion. How many children will that feed a year? How much healthcare can we afford per annum with that kind of loot? We are practically buried in anti-aging junk hourly. We can ignore it, but we don't. Because the boys in Paris and NY know that the word anti-aging, with enough exposure, causes nostalgia, regret, insecurity, low self-esteem and depression for what used to be; and women are going to cure what causes all that by hauling our credit cards and our butts to the mall. I just chastised a care2 post titled "Embracing Our Sexuality in Middle Age." My hackles got wriggly with the title. How does one exactly embrace one's sexuality? Ugh. Three paragraphs were in quotations, but it wasn't until I got to the 4th paragraph that the author revealed it wasn't her writing, it was Dr. Jean Shinoda Bolen. I admire Jean Shinoda Bolen. Jean Shinoda Bolen is a wise woman, who writes about how to be a juicy crone. She is the real deal. Read all her books, and you will grow just by having the ink in front of your eyes. But the lifecoach, when she did start speaking in her own voice in the 4th paragraph, wrote she hates the word crone. Oh, fine. I was already riled, then glanced at the picture care2 put over the article. A woman, maybe over 55, maybe not. She'd either had a little work done, or she was airbrushed the way I altered my picture here. There is nothing real, nothing embracing, nothing authentic or true about this sort of manipulation. Although it was wicked fun to draw. If a woman chooses surgery, photoshop, or that $150 toner she can't live without, that's her business. And the business of the trillion dollar beauty products industry. The beauty products industry wants us to be unhappy with self, to live every day believing our true selves are not the best we can be. I get that. I buy stuff, too. But I do not enjoy the sort of activity-like scrubbing my own face just now-that makes me discontented with getting older. That makes me yearn for the past. That gives me pain. As I final-checked this picture, I thought I should take the ridges out of my nails. Somewhere in the etymology, yearn must share a common root with fool. I am aging. We're all aging at the same speed. My mother used to say consider the alternative. I get that, too. But the fight is to keep aging, not war on aging. No corpse I know owns 7 MAC lipglasses. I'm going to have to find out if MAC calls anything it puts out there anti-aging. Just looked. No anti-aging. MAC is smart. I want smart cosmetics companies that advertise as PRO-aging. Maybe with some 60+ year old women in the marketing and communications department. With titles. Can you imagine? You're a babe, babe! And you're wise, too, because you buy our goo! If that company ever shows up, my wallet will get more of a workout. For now, if I spend my money, it is with companies that honor, respect our age. No money to companies that want us to be unhappy with who we are.