Two Line Tuesday: Madeleine L'Engle

Stories are like children.

They grow in their own way.

-Madeleine L'Engle

from A Swiftly Tilting Planet

Secret Superpowers

“While we try to teach our children all about life,
  our children teach us what life is all about.”
         - Angela Schwindt

The Flying Dream, Richard Wilkinson

2014.  This is the year I intend to fly.  

Care to join me?

To prepare for takeoff, I'd like to share the poem I received from the talented Tabatha Yeatts during last month's Winter Poem Swap.  It was the first time I participated in one of Tabatha's poem swaps and now I'm hooked!

Besides Tabatha's inspiring poem (unveiled shortly), she sent me several goodies, including Horror Refrigerator Word Magnets, "perfect for leaving a final message before that thing standing behind you swallows you whole...."  But, well, that's a post, and a limerick, for another day.

Today's little ditty is meaningful to me on a deeper level.  It's symbolic of why I choose to write for children, because of their inherent powers to inspire and live life in the moment, to enjoy each day with unequaled exuberance, and to absorb and reflect the world's goodness like sunlight.
 

         Secret Superpowers

          Drawing places no one’s ever seen –

                Turning a bed into a trampoline –

          Not getting sick no matter how much I spin –

                Finding the only mud puddle to step in –

          Imagining stories about people I see –

                Thrilling my dog at the sight of me –

          Sensing when I am near ice cream –

                Sleeping upright once I’ve run out of steam –

          Catching a leaf before it hits the ground –

                Creeping up behind you without making a sound…

            © 2013 Tabatha Yeatts.  All rights reserved.

So here's my gift to you: a magic toolbox. . .

Today I urge you to collect and fill your toolbox with your own secret superpowers.  May you use them with wild abandon each day of 2014... and beyond.

At I Think in Poems, Betsy is also sharing poetry magic.  Please join her for today's Poetry Friday roundup.

And another opportunity to help you take flight in 2014:

Join me and other picture book, middle grade, and young adult writers this month who are embracing Shannon Abercrombie's challenge to Start The Year Off Write.  For each of 21 days, established authors will present unique writing exercises to inspire, motivate, hone your skills, and help you soar in the new year.  You may even win a prize!  Do check it out! 

Two Line Tuesday: C. S. Lewis

 

Idris Akdal, by ucmorlale

You are never too old to set another goal 

or to dream a new dream.

-C. S. Lewis

Five for Friday: Year End Celebration

 

It's the end of the year.  I feel it in every tired sigh; every pound I've put on; every muscle that yearns to be stretched; every urge to begin anew with fresh plans, re-prioritized goals, and (dare I say it aloud?) New Year's resolutions.

As a writer, a mother, a homemaker, and a participant in the human "race," frustration is part of the job description.  While I am able to do many things adequately to keep myself and my family afloat, I crave those extra, non-existent hours to focus on one thing at a time until I am satisfied that I have met my own lofty expectations.

I am reminded of Becky Shillington's tree, which she described in her recent visit to the Haiku Garden.  I stretch upward, brushing the surface of the life that I envision for myself.  But while I'm proud of my accomplishments so far, I know that I'm not there yet-- it's still out of reach, just beyond my squinty gaze. 

New Year's resolutions, or for me, goals, are a way of seeing my way toward that life I envision for myself.  Do you make New Year's resolutions?

For those of you who stop by today, I hope you will join my celebration of moving forward.  To participate, string five words together (plus title if you wish) about the year's end, the start of the new year, a resolution that you have adopted, or perhaps a reason for not making resolutions at all.  Leave them in the comments and then I will move them up to the party room.

I also hope you will join Mary Lee at A Year of Reading, who is celebrating the 52nd Friday of the year with today's Poetry Friday roundup.

YEAR END CELEBRATION

Resolution

This time I mean it.

-Michelle, Today's Little Ditty

* * *

Smooth White Page

Working toward possibilities presently unimagined.

-Tabatha Yeatts, The Opposite of Indifference

* * *

outward, onward, write, smile, love

-M. M. Socks, The Drawer of M. M. Socks

* * *

On the Eve of the New Year

Ready, willing
to begin anew.

-Mary Lee, A Year of Reading

* * *

In a Nutshell

It's not problem, it's yours.

-Diane Mayr, Random Noodling

* * *

Twenty fourteen already? Oh my.

-No Stinkin Ultracrepidarian

* * *

 Motivation

simply wired
to be inspired

-Liana Mahoney

Two Line Tuesday: Christopher Moore

 

Children see magic...

because they look for it.

-Christopher Moore

Book Love: Views from a Window Seat

You won't find a lot of book reviews on Today's Little Ditty.  While I love to read, reviewing books usually feels like homework, and this Ditty Girl doesn't do book reports.  However, every once in a while a book comes along that feels like an old friend-- one that sits so comfortably in my heart, by sharing it I feel as if I am sharing a piece of myself. 

Views from a Window Seat: Thoughts On Writing And Life, by Jeannine Atkins, is one of those.

A few of you may remember a certain giveaway on Irene Latham's blog, Live Your Poem, last month.  It was marked by waving hands, flailing elbows, pushing and shoving... okay, there were no flailing elbows to speak of, but the rest is all true.  Somehow, I managed to win that giveaway, and have been savoring Jeannine's book in bits and pieces ever since.

On the surface, this is a book of essays that focuses on the writing process.  It is organized into four sections, or seasons, as viewed from Jeannine's window seat: Spring: Beginning, Summer: Moving Through the Middle, Fall: Revising, and Winter: Finding an End.  But really, this book is so much more than a how-to guide.  It's an honest look at what it means to be a writer, a beautiful personal account of one writer's journey, and a source of meditation and motivation-- an inspirational companion. 

I have chosen to share with you a piece from one of Jeannine's winter essays, titled "Words and Wreaths."  The reason I chose it is because my parents arrived this week from out of town.  Up until now, we've scarcely paid any mind to holiday preparations at the Barnes house-- no tree, no lights, no cookies.  Why? Because we've been too distracted by "everything else."  Family time has taken a back seat to homework, outside social engagements, work responsibilities, and a whole lot of same old same old.  But now that school is out and the grandparents are here, the full orchestration of togetherness and family holiday traditions can begin!

In the following passage, Jeannine describes her annual tradition of hosting a gathering where family and friends make holiday wreaths together: 

       A friend admired the bushiness of the one I made this year, the way branches jutted every which way.  I told her that this was how I write, first going for broke, leaving the clipping for later.  I let the colors of the spruce and hemlock suggest whether they want red ribbon, holly berries, pale dried grasses, or a glittery band of stars.
       My friend worried that the stuff on her leaner wreath would blow away.
       Peter, whose wreath was enormous, said, "That's what's supposed to happen."
       The world is windy.  Dried grasses or blooms fall off, like memories or extraneous facts.  But the green circle holds for a while.

For me, it's now time to focus less on the accessories, and more on nurturing that inner green circle.

And speaking of inner circles, Buffy Silverman is waiting to welcome you to the Poetry Friday roundup.  Frankly, I don't know of a more supportive or welcoming bunch of people, so please do join us at Buffy's Blog.

Haiku Garden: Becky Shillington

I've had a blast participating in the merry madness of Susanna Leonard Hill's Holiday Writing Contest over the past week.  Out of 118 entries, fourteen have been chosen as finalists and the choice is now up to you!  Voting has commenced and will continue until Wednesday, December 18th, at 5:00pm EST.  Please cast your vote for whichever story makes your jolly heart jingle. 

As for myself, I've enjoyed aspects of each and every entry (yes, all 118), but now feel quite ready to take a break from Santas and sleighs, reindeer, elves, and all varieties of mishaps, mix-ups, and mayhem.  Like a breath of fresh air, Becky Shillington joins me in the Haiku Garden today to share her own gift of the season.  Not the kind that is unwrapped in a flurry of excitement, but the kind of seasonal gift only Mother Nature can provide-- the kind that unwraps itself, slowly, over time, and belongs to anyone and everyone who stops to relish the moment.

Winter Silhouette

 Bare branches reach up,

Fingers brushing a blue sky

So bright that I squint.

 

(c) 2013 Becky Shillington. All rights reserved.

As a writer of picture books, chapter books, and poetry; a former third grade teacher; and an active mother of twins; Becky's personal life mirrors these branches, reaching out to those in her immediate and extended communities.  If you visit her blog, Tapestry of Words, one of the first things you'll notice is all the resources she generously shares with fellow writers and readers of all ages.  But I especially admire the fact that she frequently volunteers in her boys' classrooms, sharing her love of poetry with children and adults who recognize the benefit of watching the world unfold.  She describes her life as "a tapestry of love, laughter, and southern comfort." I, for one, am grateful that she chooses to share these qualities with the rest of us.

In the midst of the craziest month of the year, thank you, Becky, for stopping by the Haiku Garden; and for encouraging the world to slow down, if only for a few moments, so that I could stop, breathe, and enjoy today's little ditty.