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I’ve been largely missing out on time for serious writing lately. That worries me. The rule of thumb is to write every day.  I wonder if critiquing the work of the other authors in my two writers’ groups and revising their stories to submit for publication really counts.  I also know that I have to be ‘in the mood’ to write de novo, something that Elizabeth Hein in her blog, Scribbling in the Storage Room, calls a ‘luminal state’.  For me, being in the mood means I have an inspiration and am so eager to get it down, that I can sit at the computer for several hours without even noticing the time. In any event, I’m reinvigorated and have completed the second chapter of my new book and am researching an idea for a piece about the Pilgrims, which I hope might be published around Thanksgiving. I grew up in Plymouth, MA, in the 50s and 60s, during what I think was a special time, after WWII and before the social changes and upheavals of the mid-60s and 70s roiled the country.  Because my father was anxious for his children to fit in, I was enrolled in a course given each summer at the Harlow Old Fort House.  The house was a small story and a half dwelling with graying shingles, gambrel roof, and a large central chimney, built in 1677 by William Harlow, a cooper or barrel maker.  There I learned something of Pilgrim life.  We, all young girls, learned to cook in the fireplace; make candles and soap; and to wash, card, spin, dye, and weave wool—all in that wonderful, old house.  It enchanted me with its creaking floors, the smell of nearly three hundred years in its wood, and a sun-dappled, peaceful garden with rows of corn and vegetables growing at the rear.  When I was in high school, I was asked to become a tour guide at Plimoth Plantation, which was opening the following year.  In preparation for the Plantation’s visitors, I took Saturday classes to learn more about the Pilgrims.  At that time British accents were not required.  The garb I wore had not been thoroughly researched and wasn’t accurate, but I nevertheless felt a kinship with these doughty people who crossed the ocean in a small, leaky boat and risked their lives for freedom.  I’m looking forward to writing this piece. To all of you who have posted comments, thanks for your support. I can be contacted more directly on my Facebook page! 0 0

I’d like to tell you about a book I just finished reading, called Escape from Camp 14.  It is written by Blaine Harden,  who is an author and journalist for PBS Frontline and contributes to The Economist.  I read about the book in a Wall Street Journal report and had to give it a read. The book recounts the story of Shin In Geun (now Shin Dong-hyuk ), who is the only person to have been born in a North Korean prison camp and escaped.  Shin is the child of a man and woman who were awarded a gift of having a night with each other, and he grew up chronically malnourished and unloved in a place of brutality, torture, paranoia and fear. When he was 13, he reported to camp authorities that his mother and brother were planning to escape. He was tortured just for knowing about it and then had to watch their executions.  He felt no remorse.  Surprisingly, Shin’s desire to escape from the camp was not based on a desire for freedom, but simply because he wanted food, in particular meat!  How he managed to get out required an inordinate amount of luck and incredible perseverance, and is fascinating in the telling, but the real story is his struggle to adjust to the modern world, first in South Korea and later in California.  This is a powerful memoir, written from interviews with Shin over the course of several years.  I recommend it not because of its sensationalism, but because it reveals the truth about North Korea’s prison camps and also explains why South Korea, and indeed the world, has shown little interest in reunification, the human rights violations of North Korean, and the abolition of the camps.  It is also a testament to the power of the human spirit in the face of unfathomable cruelty and deprivation. 0 0

Like Rhe, the main character in my book Sudden Death, I learned to sail at an early age, skimming around Plymouth Harbor in a Turnabout, now called a Class 10. She was small, maneuverable, and came about on a dime (hence its name).  Since that time, I’ve crewed on a Columbia 50 on the Great Lakes and sailed a Shields (a 30 foot “mini-twelve meter”) off Newport Beach, CA, but I’ve always wanted to get back to sailing a one-two person boat.  Kids and a career intervened, but finally this past winter I bought a used Tanzer 16 (she was a bargain) with a friend.  Saturday, we took her out for a shake-down sail, and it was everything I’d hoped for.  Wind and sails and the slap of waves on the hull and dancing over the lake.  We still haven’t named her, but plan to take her out on the sound side of the Outer Banks next month. Maybe the name will come to us then. So here’s to all small boat sailors and the exhilaration of being one with wind and water! 0 0

Dear Readers: This is my first time I’ve blogged, and right off the bat, I need to thank the writers in my critique groups for helping me to become a better writer and learn the practice of the art.  There’s still a way to go, but I think I’m getting better. Special thanks to Bob, Elizabeth, and Sandy, who slogged through every chapter of my book over the last eighteen months, offering great insight, reality checks, and practical advice.  Bob and Elizabeth have their own blogs, and I recommend them: birdwords.wordpress.com and scribblinginthestorageroom.wordpress.com. I’ve attached the first two chapters of Sudden Death to get feedback from a wide variety of interested readers, along with a couple of short stories.  Do not be put off by the title There’s a Penis in my Pocket.  It isn’t pornography, but rather an incident that happened to me during the years I was teaching gross anatomy laboratories and sort of funny, at least from an anatomist’s point of view. I plan to write more as my search for an agent and a publisher progresses this spring and will have some books to recommend that I’ve read this year or am in the process of reading. 0 0

A Night At The Royal Sudden Death -A Novel 0 0

My story was published in the 2012 January issue of Deep South Magazine! Please leave comments for “When I Became A North Carolinian” below. 1 0

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