Traveling Mercies by Anne Lamott

Traveling Mercies by Anne Lamott

Anne Lamott: Travelling Mercies
If you want to be amused and informed as a writer, read Anne Lamott, and If you want to write a memoir, be sure to read this book.

Here is a review of this book from another blog I maintain:

Most of you who write are familiar with Anne Lamott. If not, you should be. She wrote a wonderful book, Bird by Bird, that is often used in writing courses in colleges and universities. I stumbled across another of her books, Traveling Mercies, while looking for more of her writings. This book is a wrenching, soul-bearing, honest-to-God experience. From her upbringing by a beloved atheist father and an agnostic mother, to her frequent use of the “f” word, it covers her years’ long conversion to Christianity. Jesus chased her up mountains, down to the seashores, through births and deaths of loved ones, through self-hatred, promiscuous sex, drugs and alcohol. Jesus was thatHound of Heaven that the poet, Gerald Manley Hopkins, speaks of in his poem by the same name.To get the full impact of this book you must read every word of it. There are some pages that will rip your heart into shreds. Other pages will bring on a viscera .reaction in your gut, and in-between those emotional reactions, you’ll be laughing at her wit/wisdom. Go ahead. Buy the book. Or ask for it in your local library. If they don’t have it, they’ll order it for you. You too will then laugh, feel, experience,and live in the life of this remarkable writer.

Just Desserts

* Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 175 (Dessert Poems) - http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/wednesday-poetry-prompts-175-dessert-poems

For this week’s prompt, write a dessert poem. The poem can be titled as a dessert. The main characters could be eating or waiting for dessert. Or dessert could just be hinted at in the poem. Of course, I’m expecting a variety of desserts to be mentioned. Happy poeming!

Just Desserts

What

made me

think I could

write about just

one luscious dessert?

They are the joy and the bain

of my existence, and to name just

one–ah, even Shakespeare could not:

“You are but summer to my heart, and not

the full four seasons of the year. . .”, but if I had

to narrow down to one, my pick would be Ice cream–

and only Blue Belle Homemade Vanilla. Now I have to run–

where did I put the syringe? I know the insulin is in the refrigerator,

right behind the brownies I baked yesterday and the blackberry turnovers.

Compartmentalized

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For this week’s prompt, write a vacuum poem. Seems like every time I finish a big project (or challenge) there’s this vacuum ready to suck me into it. So I have to keep moving, or I’ll find myself staring into nothing for hours at a time. Your poem can be about this type of vacuum, a vacuum cleaner, or a vacuum-sealed container.

Compartmentalized

Perhaps it began the winter when

all the baby chicks died,

their tiny bodies, some yellow, some

black-feathered, were stiff and their legs

pointed straight up, minuscule feet raised

like hands that knew the answers. The coal-oil

lamp was still burning but it wasn’t enough–

the night had been bitter cold. Ice crystals

encrusted the wire that encased their small house.

As I walked back home, ice-coated twigs snapped

beneath my feet and grass hung its head, weeping

for them because I could not. My six years hung heavy

on bony shoulders. I carried their picture inside my

head until I found a compartment where it could fit.

Gently, it sealed itself with ice that would not melt.

A Good Friend and a Fine Photographer

My buddy, Sandra Guillory, or Sandy, is an egnima. Yes, she is baffling and she is perplexing, but that’s part of why I like her. Never boring, always full of plans and hot-off-the-wire news. Now that’s not gossip news, but real news. The kind you can’t find in most of the news channels these days. She keeps my political blog hopping. (http://stargazer12.wordpress.com) Nothing like a little horn-blowing.

She calls herself an “amateur” photographer and I spend more time than I should refuting that tag. Some of her pictures are luscious but she continues to minimize them. Gosh, if you can’t accept acclimation from a good friend, how are you ever going to handle fame? Hmmm. . .perhaps that’s why she hasn’t hit the big time yet. But actually, I’ve never heard her say she wanted to hit the big time. Could it be she’s just happy in her skin with life just as it is?

Here are some of her delicious pictures. Please comment. Maybe, just maybe, we can drum up a bit more gusto for glory?

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            Sandy’s granddaughter, Caroline

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 Sandy’s friend, Me–the Writer in Paris   .                                                 Image

                                Grand Mariner Souffles

               St. Louis Cathedral, New Orleans

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  Sunset on the lake, Lake Charles, LA

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  Staircase in LA’s old State Capitol,

                 Baton Rouge

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                  Eagle atop a building in New Orleans, Louisiana

Magazine Memories Descending

* 2012 April PAD Challenge: Day 30 - http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides/poetry-prompts/2012-april-pad-challenge-day-30

Well, this is it. Crazy as it seems to me, we’ve somehow reached the finish line on yet another poem-a-day challenge. Please tune in tomorrow for a list of instructions on turning in poems to be selected as the Poet Laureate or have a top poem for the month.

For today’s prompt, write a fade away poem. I’ll let you decide how to interpret what a fade away poem might cover.

 

Magazine Memories Descending

 

The photographer from Progressive Farmer magazine took the pictures of Dad

marching along behind his beloved Angus, herding them toward the barn,

past the pond, calling them away from water, standing in their way,

then past the pens where on other days the vet tended them.

The pictures graced the magazine in a much later month

and included Mom–color-flushed, bringing blackberry

pie to the kitchen table, stirring latent memories

I thought lost forever. Trees trimmed, yard

manicured, even the grass beyond the

fence clipped to perfection for that

time–the time that Progressive

Farmer recognized true grit

and told the world what

the term to pull one’s

self up by their

bootstraps

meant.

Poem-a-Day Challenge: Day 29

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* 2012 April PAD Challenge: Day 29 - http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides/poetry-prompts/2012-april-pad-challenge-day-29

For today’s prompt, take a favorite line or image from an earlier poem this month and re-work it into a new poem. This is a fun exercise that I’ve used to successfully write new poems in the past.

 

The Rock at Lobos Point

Adrift on a Sargasso Sea, wearing a crown of weeds,

the berries and leaflets streaming down your body–

only your blue eyes tell who you are. Neptune unlocks

the deep as the moon speaks, sweeping depths of the

Kurile for its treasures. Is it only you who are set free

to visit? Brash, brassy seagulls break the spell, walrus

issue cacophony while flippers beat against the great rock.

Ocean roars meeting land, the spray is a kaleidoscope of 

colors in the sun, awakening a dreamer no longer asleep

on the rock at Lobos Point.

 

Poem-a-Day: Day 27

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 Write a poem beginning with The trouble is. . .
 
The Trouble is: Would William Like It?
 
Butterfly Sonnet
 
Chrysalis bound, the butterfly emerges,
Not caring for its former silken bower,
Dried by sun and lifted by wind surges–
Creation from the hand of unseen power.
 
There are but four weeks to his life and yet,
No matter how or by what winds he’s driven,
No matter glorious sunrise or sunset,
He flies and stretches life so given.
 
He swoops, he soars, stops to kiss the flowers,
Monarch of the skies, just brush my cheek,
And tell me of your memories of that bower,
That time in dark and silken-threaded deep.
 
Silence from this wonder of the sky,
But velvet wings sing out, “I fly, I fly.”

Poem-a-day Challenge: Day 26

* 2012 April PAD Challenge: Day 26 - http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides/poetry-prompts/2012-april-pad-challenge-day-26

For today’s prompt, write an animal poem. The poem can be about an animal, just reference an animal, or well, however you’d like to handle writing an animal poem.

Angels in Disguise

Alone on her own Fern Hill,

life was sweet. A mother and

a father lived there too, but no

other children graced the land.

She waited for the sound of the

great engines as they click-clacked

against the rail joining s. Sometimes

a “musical genius” was at the helm,

and there was a concert of ear-splitting

proportion. Then it was gone so soon.

The caboose rattled its “Goodbye,”

and she was left with nothing she could wrap

her hands and heart around. Then the  first puppy

appeared and her heart was forever captured:

German Shepard, Rat-Terrier, Cocker Spaniel,

Scottish Terrier, Bloodhound–she loved them all.

They loved her back This was a mystery. It led her

to the great Unknown–Who also loved her back.

Poem-a-Day Challenge: Day 25

 

 

* 2012 April PAD Challenge: Day 25 - http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides/poetry-prompts/2012-april-pad-challenge-day-25

For today’s prompt, write a poem about a sport. Pick any sport you want. And yes, feel free to bend and stretch the rules as far as you wish.

LSU Football

It’s

not just

a sport down

in Baton Rouge.Tiger

Stadium is a great cathedral,

built for worship. Rabid fans eat,

pray, love football. Tsunami waves of unbridled

sound rise and fall, filling the bowl and drowning words.

Miles rides the waves, a seasoned surfer, surviving even the Red Tide.

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