Plumb Crazy May: Writing Real Stuff

Hi, folks! Welcome to the blog! This month I am offering a series that shares some of the inside story of my book PLUMB CRAZY (Swoon Romance, June 2014). Consider following the link and giving it "a like" on Goodreads. Oh, it such a good feeling to launch a story into the world.

This week I'm going to focus on writing real stuff. Plumb Crazy is about everyday life -- real stuff. It uncovers my inward celebration "of joy comes in the morning" and my inward cry "O ME! O life!". Here's a little discussion that I hope you find helpful.

Have you ever seen a painting by Rembrandt. He has a way of making the soul of a person appear on the canvas. He uncovers a hidden part of life that is not easily reproduced. It's like he looked into the face of man, found a treasure, and revealed it for all to see. Now let's pop to the other side of the planet. I'm a southern storyteller with deep roots in Mississippi as well as Texas. This need to uncover "who we are and what we want" is part of me, like my near-sighted vision and my springy flexibility. There are secrets in this field of everyday life, treasures even. Who doesn't want to unearth buried treasure in their backyard?

I write the "real" for the comfort, too. Writing "real" is like rolling up in a favorite blanket on a rainy day with a good book and a cup of hot tea. I feel close to my people when I tell a story about everyday life. I hear my mama on the back patio, retelling Don Quixote, I hear Uncle George at the kitchen table, rolling out World War II, I hear Mema and Granddad's wild days as teens in Mississippi. It pains me that their voices are no longer here in in the Earth. I must respond, so here I am adding my verse to existence and identity. I'm glad I have this chance.

I hope that you spend this week adding your verse. Come back next week as I share more of the inside story of PLUMB CRAZY.

Here is a doodle: "Noah's ark.






Here is a verse that I keep tucked in my pocket. I hope that you keep it tucked in yours.

O ME! O life!... of the questions of these recurring;
Of the endless trains of the faithless—of cities fill’d with the foolish;
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light—of the objects mean—of the struggle ever renew’d;
Of the poor results of all—of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me; 

Of the empty and useless years of the rest—with the rest me intertwined;
The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?

Answer.

That you are here—that life exists, and identity; 

That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.

Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass #166