Hold that position…
My eldest daughter came home from her first writing class rather baffled.
“Free writing,” the 10-year-old told me. “That’s what we had to do.”
She showed me her notebook with her attempt. She had written sentences about not knowing what to write followed by others expressing her adoration for her favorite pop band One Direction. Then more sentences about what on earth could she write.
“That’s a good start,” I said.
“No it isn’t,” she contested. “There’s no story.” [continue reading…]
You see. If you just give it a chance, you’ll find you like it.
I love road trips. The longer they are, the better. And when the destination is not so important as the trip there, that’s even better.
I’ve taken many road trips, often in the search of good waves to surf. And several as a family of five, with the latest trip up the coast of Central California.
Time seems to stand still on these trips. My thoughts wander as I stare out the window, and I dream. Stories flood into my head for this blog and elsewhere.
And we talk and listen to music.
It’s the tunes that often come to remind me months and even years later of those very moments out on the road or reaching a beach or a national park. The memories come flooding back vividly with pictures, tastes and smells. [continue reading…]
Yeah, one day I’ll find the look.
I’ve grown a beard. Becoming or not, that’s still a debate in my household – and with some friends.
I’ve always shaved once a week, a perk of working for myself as a writer. Now it’s been more than six months since using a razor, and I’ve come to think that the beard makes me look rather rustic. Or maybe a bit like the Scottish-born American naturalist John Muir, a childhood hero.
My wife found it adventurous at first, whatever that meant.
I’m still, well, scratching my beard as I ponder my new look and whether it is cutting it or not. My older brother has a thick and multicolored beard, and my uncle has a long white beard. They both look good. And me? Well, it’s a plain brown beard. And it has brought a few downers. First came the inevitable and nagging itchiness. Then came the appearance of my first white hairs after years of saying, “Hey, I still look so young. I’ve got no gray hairs at 44!”
Now the white hairs stick straight out of my beard. [continue reading…]
