Updates

2024 Writer’s Round Up

It’s been a year, hasn’t it? I have two small children (getting less small by the day!) and looking back at pictures from the beginning of 2024 just has me stunned by how much can and does happen in a year, how much growth can occur, and how much it’s worth taking some time to appreciate it all as the year turns. So here’s a brief roundup on writing things I accomplished in the last year.

By The Numbers

  • 13 new works written and completed to the point of submission this year (with a few other partials or nearly-ready)
  • 45 works submitted for potential publication or entered in contests and pitch events
  • 30 rejections or passes, though several invited me to send other work, and one held a submission for a few extra months for further consideration before finally passing.
  • 4 still out waiting for responses
  • 1 acceptance
  • 1 Picture Book Conference attended
  • 1 Published (or soon to be) work

Contests and Events I Participated in:

  • #SkyPitch (I got one agent “like” on a pitch and made my first agent query)

I’m not quite done for the year yet, one or two more projects to finish in the next few days, but I can look back and say I’m really pleased with my writing year. Here’s to more good words in 2025, and good wishes to you all!

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Who Stole Santa’s Boot? (Contest Entry)

In amidst the addressing of Christmas cards, the list making, and tree decorating, it’s also the time for Susanna Leonard Hill’s Holiday Writing Contest!

Image from Susanna Hill’s contest page, see link above

The guidelines are that it must relate to any winter holiday, be a mystery, and no longer than 250 words (not including title). I was extremely honored to get an all-around honorable mention in the Halloweensie contest for Baby Goblin at the Halloween Ball, and am happy to present to you my tiny Christmas mystery, Who Stole Santa’s Boot?

An arctic fox in winter, all white, standing in the snow in front of a thicket of winter twigs. Emma, CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Who Stole Santa’s Boot?
By Meg Winikates (250 words)

This is the kitchen, smelling great,
where cookies slide right off the plate.
A chocolate boot-print on the floor—
and Mrs. Claus points to the door.

This is the spot beside the sleigh
where Santa tucks his boots away.
He turns to put his slippers on—
but suddenly, one boot is gone!

This is the fox who nabs the shoe
for playful kits to gnaw and chew.

This is the stoat who shocks the fox
(while Santa wanders in his socks)
and drags the boot along the ground,
delighted by this thing he’s found.

This is the owl that spooks the stoat,
who hides below as white wings float.
The owl swoops, the boot falls down,
and crashes into tunnel town!

These are the lemmings that scoot and swarm
into the boot, so safe and warm.

(This is St. Nick with chilly toes,
his glasses balanced on his nose,
requesting acrobatic elves
to search the closets, climb the shelves!)

This is the hare with legs so strong,
a boot hat on his ears so long,
leaping across a frozen brook—
(Where else can Santa think to look?)

This is the wise old caribou
who gently bends to sniff the shoe;
with boot between her teeth, she clops,
and near the stable-door it drops,
ready for Santa to retrieve—
barely in time for Christmas Eve!

“So where do you suppose it’s been?”
asks Mrs. Claus, and Santa grins.
“My dear, we must admit defeat,
and just rejoice they’re on my feet!”

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To Slice The Sky

A year ago, right around now, a friend of mine died tragically and unexpectedly. He was a gentle, lanky, funny person, who loved haiku, photography, and martial arts, which he whimsically referred to as ‘slicing the sky with a stick.’ (And cutting the occasional pumpkin with a sword, especially this time of year.) The skies around town have been showing off particularly well this week–I like to think that they’re turning out some autumnal best in honor of his memory as well.

Orange and green leaves on a maple tree glow in full afternoon sunlight against a clear blue sky. Photo by me, October 2024

Autumn winds whip trees,
dropping twigs, leaves, and one stick
perfect to slice the sky.

by Meg Winikates, in memory of Brad L.

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5 Tips for Your Inspiration Expedition

Not all those who wander are lost. All those who wonder are found.
Detail from a map in the collection of the Boston Public Library’s Norman B. Leventhal Map Center.

A few weeks ago, all the sins published my reflections on and exhortations to the wonders of gathering artistic inspiration in museums. (If you missed it, you can find it here.)

This week, they’re back with my best suggestions on how to outfit yourself for a museum exploration. Matthew Henson didn’t head for the North Pole without a coat, after all!

So if you’re suffering writer’s block, or it’s been ages since you went on that school trip to your local historical society, here are my 5 tips on using museums for inspiration.

…Inspiration can come from a fossil in a natural history collection, a scrap of wallpaper in a historic house, the view from a national park peak. What would a taxidermied specimen have to say to its collector? What words still resonate in the walls of an old structure? Whose hands molded the pot whose shards sit in that case, and how do the pieces evoke the whole?

 

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Narratives Found: A day of surprise and serious wordsmithing

I have lots of thoughts about the last few days of the Mass Poetry Festival, so expect those in a subsequent post, but first I’d like to say ‘thanks!’ to everyone who attended my workshop “Found Narratives” on Sunday morning at the Peabody Essex Museum. I promised I’d put my presentation up online, so the slides are below, with a summary of the ideas that kicked off our writing session.

http://www.slideshare.net/mwinikates/meg-w-mapofest15foundnarratives

What is the role of curators in creating an exhibition, and how is that like (or unlike) the role of a poet?

Curators have a number of roles:

  • Caretaker/Historian/Preservationist – all exhibitions are a continuation of, response to, or rejection of previous history (art history, historical narrative, etc.)  By choosing to include objects, artworks, etc. in a show, curators demonstrate that they think these particular things are worth saving, displaying, and sharing.
  • Author/Editor – curators pick which exhibition elements will best help them tell the story of the person/place/time period/movement/historical event that they want to tell.
  • Interpreter – A good curator (through a good exhibition) poses questions, invites discussion, offers new perspectives, and has an impact on the viewers that gives them a brain-tingling set of new ideas and questions of their own.

Arguably, a poet has much the same set of roles:

  • Historian – all poetry draws inspiration from, responds to, rejects, or reworks the written (and oral!) canon and literary tradition that preceded it. Play and challenge are vital acts of the poet-as-historian.
  • Author/Editor – words are a poet’s tools, and which words you pick and which words you juxtapose, emphasize, etc. are the keys to creating a poem with impact.
  • Interpreter – “If it blows the top of my head off, I know it’s Poetry.” Emily Dickinson was right on, IMHO. Just like visual art, a good poem makes the reader think, question, observe, react, feel, breathe a little differently than before they encountered the words.

The power of both of these roles is in the choices that we make.

Blank walls, blank paper, blank screen. You can put anything there in any order, so where do you start? It all depends on the impact you want to have. Are you aiming for accessible or inscrutable? Mysterious? Open? Comforting or confronting? Your goal determines your choices as much as your natural voice does.

In the case of an exhibition, there are numerous voices involved, of course. Aside from the curator, there are exhibition designers, an interpretive editor, often an educator, all offering suggestions which will help highlight and shape the story the curator wants to tell.  The team’s choices form the bridges for the connections visitors will make when standing in the space.

Will there be long sight lines or lots of small spaces? Which pieces are in conversation with each other, whether in support or in opposition?  Do you hang them together or separately? What color are the walls?  How much extra information do you put on the labels/wall text? What style font do you use?

For poets, this correlates to choices about line length, word juxtaposition, rhyme and meter, form.  Where do you want your viewer’s/reader’s eyes to go next?

The Idea for the Workshop

All this discussion grew out of a collaborative project between myself and photographer Michele Morris, Palettes of Light, in which we paired images from two of her series and then I wrote a poem connecting the two. It seemed a natural progression to me that this would work with any pair of artworks, provided that the poet started with two pieces that resonated with them for one or more reasons.  Ekphrastic poetry has a long and proud history (Musee des Beaux Arts, anyone?), and this is a way to celebrate not only the creative efforts of the visual artist, but also the imaginative connective power of the viewer. (A workshop participant later described this exercise as ‘Next Level Ekphrasis’ and said she was going to teach it to her students, which made me very happy indeed.)

The Task: Find your Narrative

In preparation for spending time in two exhibitions, I asked the workshop participants to do the following:

  • Find 1-2 works in each of the exhibits that really sang to them, for any reason at all.
  • Brainstorm a list of words and phrases provoked by each work.
  • Take photos of the works to use for future reference.  (There was a hard limit of 10 minutes per gallery to make sure we had time to get back to the studio to write, and poetry and art appreciation both benefit from more time.)
  • Once back in the studio, find a connecting thread between the 2 works.
  • Write ‘the bridge,’ aka, draw out the connection and give it support using the inspiration from the two artworks.
  • If they hated everything from one exhibit, they could pick 2 from the same exhibit. (No one who chose to share their work at the end chose this option.)

How do we get there? The Source Material

Using Visual Thinking Strategies, we spent a few minutes in each gallery as a group looking at one art work.  I asked only three questions (“What do you see?” “Why do you say that?” and “What else?”), and let people build upon their own and others’ observations to discuss the work in front of them, then let them go to explore each gallery.

Stop 1: Duane Michals, Storyteller

I picked this show because Michals often treats his photographs as a storyboard: there’s a lot of narrative, sometimes with his own reflections, stories, memories, and poems written directly on the surface of the print. He has a playfulness to a lot of his work that I find appealing, and many of his themes tie easily into poetry (time, mortality, desire, wonder, discomfort, humor).

Stop 2: Branching Out, Trees as Art

This show focuses on the way artists use trees as both artistic material and as inspiration.  There are many more abstract works in this exhibition, and lots of themes about the ways humans relate to their environment.

On their own time, I encouraged participants to explore the rest of the museum as well and try this exercise again.

foundnarrativesmpf15

Possible Connections

There are a lot of ways to find a bridge that connects two seemingly disparate artworks.  The following list I had up on display for participants to consider as they began their writing:

  • Theme
  • Emotional reaction
  • Visual similarities
    • tone
    • texture
    • composition
    • color
    • movement
  • Resonances or dissonances
    • personal memories
    • references to artistic/literary tradition
    • using one artwork as a metaphor or frame for the other
    • timelines (cause and effect, before and after, etc.)

Participants then had about 15 minutes to work on their poems, and time at the end of the session to share their favorite lines (or the whole poem if it was short).  About half the workshop chose to share, and I was really impressed with the vivid language, the fantastic imagery, and the unusual connections they made.  I was also pleased, amused, and a little surprised that a few people chose an interactive element (an amadinda, similar to a log xylophone) instead of an artwork for their second piece.  I had, after all, asked them to find a piece that ‘sang’ to them–a few took me quite literally!

Do you find visual art a stimulus to your writing? Would you try this exercise or share it with your students/writing group? Have you tried it and do you have a result to share?  Add your thoughts to the discussion in the comments below!

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Mapping Emotions, and Location as Character

How strongly are your emotions tied to places you know? Does thinking about the airport lead to frustration or elation? Do you automatically smile when you turn a corner that brings you closer to a favorite view? How much of what you feel bleeds into what you write, and how does where your writing take place influence the characters/perspective of your narrative?

I can feel my heart slow down and the corners of my mouth lift every time I look at this picture from last summer on Cape Cod.
I can feel my heart slow down and the corners of my mouth lift every time I look at this picture from last summer on Cape Cod.

And what would it look like if you made an emotional map that goes with your world-building? It might look like Stanford University’s “Mapping the Emotions of Victorian London” project. The New York Times has a great write up of it here. Or it might look like Toronto’s Poetry Map. Or maybe it looks like this:

Mapping Westeros onto Boston & Environs, by Michelle Forelle. Click for source.
Mapping Westeros onto Boston & Environs, by Michelle Forelle. Click for source.

(I’m having visions now of writing a character who treats their entire existence as if it’s lifted from other fictional sources. That could be fun.) Maybe it’s as simple as this, to help remember how your various characters are going to be likely to react in certain locations or under certain conditions: charactermaplotr As the weather’s been getting better and people’s spirits are rising, these are the kinds of things I’m thinking about, especially since I also recently moved and am learning a whole new set of favorite haunts.  What are your thoughts on the impact of place on your writing?