The curtain pulls aside. The priest opens the Royal Doors of the iconostas, looks out into the nave then turns around to the sanctuary as the congregation stands, the choir singing. Mass has begun. We have been attending this Ukrainian church since last fall, Olga reconnecting to her roots. I don’t understand a word, saveContinue reading “Private Eyes”
Tag Archives: #writing
Wake me up before you go-go
What time is it? For that matter, what day is it? The flickering flat screen at the far end of the dining area suggests it could be Sunday. Images of gesticulating men and women, arms raised in praise, swaying to the rhythm of electric guitars, unheard voices singing in unison, a lighted cross in theContinue reading “Wake me up before you go-go”
Looking Back, Looking Forward
December 2021 has come to an end, finishing with my monthly review of books read. The year began in a flurry, ending with a mere trickle in the remaining three months. The last book for the year was a memoir, recommended by the instructor for the writing course. For the same reasons my reading peteredContinue reading “Looking Back, Looking Forward”
You’ve Got Mail
Another Christmas card arrived in the mail today, a welcome alternative to the flyers and bills and requests for money which clutter the box in December. The number of cards sent and received is shrinking but it is a tradition which marks the holiday season in the same manner as purchasing a real tree. ChristmasContinue reading “You’ve Got Mail”
Novememoir
If one is intending to write a memoir, reading other people’s version would be a logical way to improve and learn. My goal for enrolling in the memoir writing course was to enhance my writing skills. The work published in my blog seemed to me to lend themselves more to history; yet, after a fewContinue reading “Novememoir”
Return to Sender
Today would have been Dad’s 89th birthday. Petrus Gerardus Cornelius Aloysius de Cock was born on this day, November 27, 1932 in Tilburg, the Netherlands. Return to Sender is a story about my writing to him up until his death at a long term care home in Wallaceburg, April 2, 2019. The notes began whenContinue reading “Return to Sender”
Not a single one
The month of October passed into the next without the completion of a single book. I did start with a new memoir by Donna Morrissey, Pluck and attempted to read each night just before my head went to the bottom of the page to stay. I managed only a few before the lights would beContinue reading “Not a single one”
By definition
A section in the memoir writing course discusses structure; more specifically, whether or not adhering to a predetermined one assists or inhibits creativity and achieving the goals. Sticking to a plan can be beneficial for some while restrictive and static to others. At the same time abiding by a particular practice, like the writing ofContinue reading “By definition”
Good things come in threes
One of the exercises in my memoir writing course challenges participants to write a story using only three word sentences. There is no expectation to be grammatically correct; rather it is in an exercise in parsimony, being able to communicate your message without elaborate sentences. The exercise is part of a chapter on what toContinue reading “Good things come in threes”
The Last Breath
I remember Mom’s last breath. It was more of a heave, a bursting of air, a quick exhalation preceded by days of shallow, open mouthed panting. We had sent Dad to our house, imploring him to get some decent rest. He had held vigil for the last five days, never leaving the hospital since heContinue reading “The Last Breath”
Wonderings 