Poetry Friday

My daughter was chosen to represent her school at "An Evening with Young Writers" at our town's art center.

The two poems that were selected are ones I've posted before on Poetry Friday, but they bear repeating. I'll put one here and the other over at The Simple and the Ordinary (spread the wealth.)

Home is...
by KRM (6th grade)

Home is guitar music
Set to blasting,
Echoing on the stairwell.
Home is the tapping of keys
As Mom's fingers dance
Over her laptop keyboard.

Home is Dad, sleeping
On the couch downstairs
Quiet, like a cat.
Home is our dying
Maple that isn't as young
As it used to be.
Home is books
Scattered around the
Living room haphazardly.

Home is red raspberry bushes
In the sweltering summer,
Prickly stems, bright berries, and all.
Home is rosebushes
In the springtime
Surrounding the backyard
With their sweet aroma

Home is love,
All year round.

The Poetry Friday Roundup is by Tricia at The Miss Rumphius Effect.

A Writing Tip From Pippi

"I know why most stories don't have a first person main character who is blind," my 12-year-old daughter said the other day, "If you are showing what a person sees and the person doesn't see anything..." She thought a second. "You know what would be a really good writing exercise? To write scenes as if the narrator were blind - you'd have to really focus on the other senses, it would make all of your writing stronger."

Smart girl that Pippi. I may have to try that exercise.

Light a Fire Under Him

There is a story in my family history about an uncle of mine. Actually he would have been an uncle of my grandmother's I believe. I don't vouch for the veracity of this story - only that this is how the story was told to me.

My great-great uncle was walking along the canal paths of the Erie canal. He came upon a mule that was refusing to pull it's load. No matter what the driver did to it that mule just stood there. The driver was fed up. My great-great uncle said he would buy the mule for a quarter (maybe the amount was even less, I'm not sure). The driver, facing a worthless animal agreed and turned the stubborn mule over to my uncle but wondered what my uncle would do with an animal that refused to move.

Simple. He lit a fire under him and the mule moved right quick. And my uncle got himself a mule right cheap.

Hopefully no one actually has to light a fire under me to get me writing and blogging again.

On Being a Mom and a Writer

A new MamaWriters Blog was launched the other day, and in honor of the launch, there is an interview with some Mom's who are are writers at Happy Endings. I'm one of the writer's quoted - so go have a look!

Need a Hero

Every story needs a hero and if you go over to the Climbing Roses blog you can take a quiz to see which of the Climbing Rose books has a hero for you.

Hint: Mike has long hair, a tattoo, a great singing voice, is an awesome dancer and Emma dreams of walking on the beach with him (not that I'm trying to influence your answers or anything)

Poetry Friday

Once again, for Poetry Friday, I'm going to offer a poem written by my 12-year-old daughter. This was written as a school assignment. It is about a warrior - and through the poem you can see his transition from brave, before battle, to scared during the battle, to relief to be home afterwards.

I Am...
by KRM

I am the warrior,
I am the strength of words,
Cutting deeply into someone's mind.
I am the swiftness of a bolt of lightning,
Here one minute, gone the next.
I am the sweetness of revenge,
Like peppermint dipped in powdered sugar.
I am the silence of snow, spilling from the sky.
I am the anger of the wind,
Wrecking homes and uprooting trees,
I am the warrior.

I am the stillness of a rabbit that's been seen,
I am the teeth of a wolf, sharp,
and bloodstained.
I am the curtain of death,
Blocking out the light of life.
I am the ferocity of a tiger,
I am the boldness of a bear,
I am the warrior.

I am the size of an ant,
Praying that I won't get squished.
I am the sadness of an empty home
I am the whisper of the breeze
tickling the trees,
I am the lie in the fruit of truth.
I am the mistake in perfection.
I am betrayed.

I am the taste of relief, warm
and bittersweet.
I am the color of happiness
and hope.
I am the calm of warm cookies
in the winter
I am the laughter of a newborn
I am the strength of words,
I am the warrior,
I am back.

The Poetry Friday round up is at Karen Edmisten's place today.

Sometimes a Story is Just a Story

My 12-year-old daughter (like every other tween in this country) is reading Twilight. She had put it off because the thought of a vampire love story didn't intrigue her and she had plenty of other books to read.

And, as a responsible parent, I had read reviews and other people's opinions on the book (I'm not so responsible that I read the book first - but I do plan to read it). And some people love the book and some think it is the single thing that will destroy our children forever (okay, maybe no particular review said that.) The point is that there are differing points of view out there - on any book.

I think that once a book reaches pop culture icon status, like Twilight has, and Harry Potter before it, it becomes a magnet for all kinds of criticism. Now some of the criticism may be valid. And other times it may be more the opinion of the critic than anything else.

The thing is, I'm not that concerned about my daughter getting faulty views of relationships based on Bella's relationship with a vampire. First of all, she gets her views on relationships from lots of places, including real life. Second: vampires aren't real. No really, they're not. And she knows that. Just like when she reads books about faeries and elves and centaurs, she knows that they aren't real.

A famous psychiatrist once said, "sometimes a story is just a story". Okay, that's not what he said, but it works for me. Because if you delve too deeply into just about any story, at least any worth paying attention to, there are some very disturbing elements.

Let's take a look at fairy tales. And I won't even go into the Grimm brother versions of them, because those can get really disturbing. Let's just think about the pleasantly cleaned up Disney versions. The versions that our pre-school girls absorb in greater quantities than the tweens and Twilight.

Cinderella: She falls in love with a guy she has met exactly once, danced with, never told her name to, and then marries (makes me think of the song "Hello, I love you, Won't you tell me your name")

Sleeping Beauty: Prince falls in love with a person who has been asleep for 100 years. She wakes to find a stranger sitting next to her and immediately marries him.

Snow White: Prince falls in love with someone who is supposedly dead. She awakes to a stranger and immediately marries him.

None of those really give a great view of how a healthy relationship should proceed. But the talking heads don't over-analyze these stories and worry that they are harming our daughters.

And why is that. Because they are just stories - and only a part of how children are going to view the world around them.

Sometimes a story is just a story.