While it may seem that my writing bug has died down, nothing can be further from the truth! Since writing the post Women aren’t that bad, I have been a writing fiend. Nothing motivates you more than righteous frustration! I have been working on my creative writing. More specifically my short story called The Island of Trees, a tale of a superficially ‘enlightened’ woman confronting actual sacrifice. I will be sharing the first half of my story with my writer’s group this Saturday. If you are a creative writer I highly recommend starting or joining a writer’s group. We share our writing, as well as our cooking and our favorite books. Not only does it take you out of the isolation of writing, but it motivates you to keep writing because you don’t want to show up empty handed. We’ve been meeting weekly for almost three years, and although we took a break this summer, I’m excited to get back into the regular groove. Here’s an excerpt of The Island of Trees just to let you in on what I’m working on.
Alma St. Clair made a point to be ahead of all the latest enlightenment trends. She mastered downward facing dog before Madonna discovered yoga. She was a locavore when green was just a color and not a lifestyle. She didn’t eat tofu – too much estrogen. She didn’t use plastic – too many carcinogens. She didn’t eat uncooked vegetables after sunset – something to do with her Ayurveda constitution. When people asked her what religion she believed in she smiled as if she heard something amusing and said, “I don’t believe in organized religions, but I’m very spiritual.” Her favorite i-phone app was the one that sent her a new Hindu deity everyday with a little description. She loved to slip those long complicated names into her conversations, regardless of whether or not she was pronouncing them right, or remembered their traits correctly. It’s not like her friends knew any better. They would simply say, “Oh, Alma, how do you know so much?” She would chuckle and reply with, “Well as Gandhi said, ‘A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool.’” No one ever told her that that was Shakespeare and not Gandhi, but who’s keeping track?