Julie R. Neidlinger: Lone Prairie Art Works

The Everything Group, for the right brained.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 3 comments link this post

I've got to stop joining reading and writing groups. I'm never satisfied.

Perhaps it's just a glorified wish of wanting to be part of a group of people who enjoy art, music, writing, reading and film. The common denominator in the reading group and the writing group which I have been dissatisfied with is...me. I can tell you all the things I didn't like about each group, but really, I can only change myself and I was the one who was part of both groups.

I'll use the writing group as an example, since I've long since abandoned the reading group.

For me, writing isn't about grammar, publishers, and novels. Writing is like art, like music, like reading -- it is an essential part of being for me; they are all in connection with each other. They are symbiotic, they feed each other and, if I try to separate one from the other, they all suffer. I need to be able to write to draw to write. It is not necessarily a career, but a way of existing. The writers' group seems only focused on writing as a career, with the goal of being published.

That, of course, makes sense. What else would a writers' group be for?

And that's why I know I just can't go anymore.

I used to enjoy talking with a former member (who no longer attends) about interesting books or things he'd found, because it gave me ideas of things to both read and write about. I feel his absence markedly. A huge frustration for me in both groups, the writing group in particular, has been a distinct feeling of square peg in round hole. I notice it more, now, with the absence of this member.

The last writers' group meeting found me without any writing sample to hand out though I dare say I write enough on all of my blogs to fill several books. Instead, I offered a handout with some web links and a few ideas that people might find helpful only to have it barely glanced at (except by one person) and essentially shrugged off. It may not have been a stellar source of information, but to have to put up with 15 minutes of discussion prior to that, about getting a person in to teach grammar as our special speaker, and not get any similar interest (feigned or otherwise) back from what I had to offer...

And then I handed out one of the cartoons I'd drawn for a comic book I'm attempting to put together. It may have seemed odd to hand out "drawings" at a writing group, but in my mind...it's all connected. It's writing, to me. The cartoons have scripts that I work through. I did preface it by saying my sense of humor was odd and they probably wouldn't get it. I wasn't too concerned about all of that, nor am I terribly thin-skinned about "critique." (You don't go through five years of art school without learning how to handle the critique of your work.) I was attempting to show the writing I was working on, even if it contained drawings.

"These cartoons are kind of like a seriously pared-down, edited story," I explained. "I only have about four to six panels to get the story across, and my dialog is obviously limited." I handed out the drawing.

It was quickly passed around the table and literally tossed carelessly back at me by a member. My reaction to that was of annoyance. I was annoyed at the disrespect showed to another person's work, not that they weren't fawning about the cartoon (frankly, they're weird humor that few people will laugh at) but apparently the annoyance was misconstrued at not being able to handle critique.

"I can handle a critique just fine," I said, carefully putting the original drawing back in the folder case, further annoyed that it was suggested I couldn't take critique even though I'd been part of this group longer than all but one other person there. "This is an original drawing and I don't appreciate you throwing it about the table."

We moved on with the rest of the meeting, but at that moment I knew I was done with the group. I very much like the people, but I do not fit with them as an "official" group, a group with a purpose.

Frankly, I don't mind not fitting.

I want to be part of group that isn't so narrow. I want to be part of a group where, if someone writes something personal that makes them cry, it doesn't have to be awkwardly sandwiched between the discussion of getting a speaker to come and talk about grammar, and a critique on writing. I want to be able to talk about a book in broad terms without falling into pointless discussions on child daycare and side-tracked conversation more befitting a Ladies' Aid meeting. I want to be part of a group where we bring things we're doing -- reading, writing, drawing -- an Everything Group.

Come to my Everything Group, the imaginary poster might say, We encourage you to be and do. If you're doing it, creating it, we welcome it.

Do you like to write? Bring your writing! Have a book or film you are dying to talk about? Let's talk about it. Really into art? Great. Got a thing for music? Come on down. Want help with motivation for your art, writing, journaling, music, or reading? That's why we're here.

A Jack-of-all-Trades group. A Renaissance Man group. A Creative Thinker group. An Aimless Wanderer With Lots of Thoughts group. A Group Without A Traditional Means to an End group.

A group where it wasn't about grammar and systems and how-to, but encouragement and creativity and, essentially, right-brain focus. A group where people who write are encourage to let it pour out without ever feeling like they have to make it a career, where people who read can gush and recommend and talk about a book, where people who have found some great new music can tell the rest of the members, where people who have an artistic streak can let it out before they explode.

Something like that.

I don't know if I'd get anyone to show up.

We humans like orderly specifics, it seems, rather than such "vague without purpose" activity.

But it'd still be cool.

Labels: art life, writer's group, writing life

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Writing about clutter.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 0 comments link this post

I don't know why I'm such a smarta** when it comes to the writing exercises at writers' group. I always write like I'm attempting to get something in McSweeney's.

Yesterday, at writers' group, we were to write about clutter. It felt a little to general -- I tend to lean towards weird writing prompts like our next week's assignment (which I contributed via a writing prompt book), which is to write on the topic of "someone found the Venus de Milo's arms."

Anyway, clutter.

I tapped my pen on my notebook and, with little further thought, decided to try some bad poetry.

Clutter
Rhymes with stutter.
And flutter.
Butter.
Like stutter it repeats without warning
the more you try to control it
the less success you have.

Like a fluttering bird
it drops
dropping(s)
randomly.
Though usually on the nearest empty counter.

Clutter is in no way like butter.

That sucked. I tried again.

Clutter as Metaphor
Clutter is like grammar: double letters, out of control.
Clutter is like iced mocha: not really. No, it isn't.

Terrible. That's the problem with meeting in a coffee shop; everything becomes related to the iced mocha you want.

I decided to go with a list route and be done with it.

Things said upon discovering clutter:

Grandma, we thought we'd lost you.
I guess dairy products need to be refrigerated.
Hmm. A pink slip. That would explain the absence of a paycheck this week.
Let's just buy a new table.
Check out my unique filing system.
I haven't been able to find my blood pressure pills for weeks.
We have six cats but have only been able to find one for some time now.
The service plans from Best Buy seem to be breeding!
You can never have too many Hummels.
That table is my scrapbook.
Grandma, are you still there?

We had a few minutes left, so I decided to further cement my status as Most Unwilling To Participate As A Serious Writer and come up with the following beauty:

The Clutter That Wasn't
"You're room is spotless!"
"I know!"
"I guess we're done here."

Why do I write like this in writers' group, when others try to be serious and when I can be overly serious on my own blog?

I know why...

Labels: writer's group, writing prompts

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After two months, I'm back.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 0 comments link this post

I'm going to writers' group today. I haven't been there for a while, and I don't know that I'll keep going every meeting (gas is expensive and it's a long drive). However, a friend decided to try out a meeting and I thought it would be good for me to get back into the loop.

It's going to be strange; our group has significantly changed since I was last there.

I don't have a lot of writing to bring, though, with all the blogging I do, it's not as if I don't write regularly. However, I did come up with a little something that I thought I would share with the group. It's a very basic listing of web sites they might find useful as writers. You can see the page I'll be passing around here (PDF).

Labels: links, writer's group, writing

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Remember me? Of course I do.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 0 comments link this post

Granted, maybe you like poems about toilet paper, grouse, and soap dispensers. I can certainly handle those topics.

On the off chance, though, that you're not interested in reading poems that contain phrases like "bifurcated garment" -- you're in luck.

I'm taking this opportunity to send you to Meg's blog, a young woman who, pre-college, was in the writers' group I am in. She sent me one of those "do you remember me?" kind of emails I even still get once in while from students I taught back in my art teacher days, filling me in on some of the great travel, education and writing opportunities she's gotten to take part in. She has poetry and travelogues and photos on her blog.

None of which, as far as I can tell, talk about getting a bloody nose in the winter, which was my topic du jour just a short while back.

I always appreciate such emails from students or young people I've had the opportunity to get to know, as long as they don't say anything like "hey, remember me you horrible art teacher who ruined me on art for the rest of my life? I was the one who keyed your car."

Stuff like that? Not so swell.

Anyway, check out her blog and stop back to see what she's writing. We can all use readers, we writers.

Labels: links, poetry, writer's group

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One less around the table.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 0 comments link this post

I haven't been to the Lake Region Writers' Group meetings for a few months, partly due to recent Nicaragua planning and travel, and also because of gas prices. The last time I was there, however, we'd had a good meeting. We shared our writing, listened and critiqued each other's efforts, and had our usual 10-minute writing exercise.

It was the last time I saw Bill.

Bill had a huge memorial service on February 27th, attended by the entire community and firemen from across the state. It was held in the WW2 Memorial Building because of the numbers of people who attended. His obituary was massive and revealed the kind of person he was, his life having been one that touched so many. The newspaper had articles on how his passing really affected people, and members of the writers' group even sent out emails talking about how he will be missed in just our own little circle.

I only really knew Bill through the writers' group. He wrote a book, and I was always reminded that despite all my excuses and protestations for not finishing any number of writing projects that I had started, Bill, despite battling some physical limitations, had finished a book (two, actually), and was working on a third. His wife Mary was delightful, and helped Bill with his books as editor and typesetter.

Sometimes, when we did writing assignments during our writers' group meetings, I'd come up with some pretty bizarre solutions to the problem. Each person would go around and read their effort and I would slide a bit lower in my seat as my turn approached. I'd read whatever bizarre bit of creative writing I'd managed to pull out of the air in ten minutes, and when I was done, Bill would just get a grin on his face at the end of the table.

"Julie, that sounds just like something you'd write, now, doesn't it?" he'd chuckle. He even took the time to thumb through my entire Bob book when I brought it in to show the group, laughing and shaking his head. "This is great," he said with a chuckle when I brought in the western Bob story.

I was working on Wednesday, when the memorial service was held. I watched as Bill's flag-draped casket was carried out, preceded by bagpipes. I took some photos. I kept thinking how strange writers' group will seem, if I ever get back, to not see him at the end of the table keeping the discussion going and talking about publishers.

I don't know if the stuff I dragged into writers' group, or created there, was so great.

But Bill? He was a great guy.

Photos: Firemen lined up in front of Memorial Building | Fire truck and casket

Labels: writer's group

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Whispering wheat.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 1 comments link this post

A few years back, the writer's group I'm a part of (Lake Region Writer's Group) put out an anthology. We invited writers from across the state to submit up to three pieces on the topic of winter. Another woman and I were the ones who came up with the idea and sort of did all the work on the book. The end product didn't reveal the process, which is to say the book looks very fine and the process was not. When you put out a call for up to three pieces of writing from North Dakota writers on the topic of "winter", you're going to get bombarded with:

Four or more pieces, sans explanation, with the obvious intent being that either all make it in and we'll be forgiving of the rules, or that we'll just pick the best three out of the last ten year's worth of work instead of the writer being his or her own editor.
Writing that has little or nothing to do with winter except a casual insertion of something like "hell freezes over", as if that would qualify it.
Some really bad writing.
Instructions on how and where to send the check to pay the writer for their submission.
And so on.

It was a very frustrating experience. Some of the submissions were not so good, including my own. That is why I said I would not be involved in heading up such a project again.

It is nice, then, that another writing group is working on an anthology, though they are not opening it up to the entire state. However, not being involved in the inner workings of the project sounds lovely, and so I found myself, at the meeting this past Saturday, contemplating possible things to write.

Let's see. The title of the book is going to be 'Whisperings from the Wheat' or something like that, I thought. "So...we can write anything, basically, that has to do with this title?" I asked the group aloud. I'd missed a few meetings and hadn't been in on all of the discussion of this project.

"Yes, pretty much anything on harvest, in a broad context. Except porn, of course," was the reply.

Could porn and harvest really be a viable mix? Then I remembered some of the stories we got for the winter anthology, bizarre ones on older people in the "winter" of their life and how to have more vibrant...uh...lives. I suppose it could feasibly be a problem.

"If I wrote a story called 'Wheat Porn', would they accept it?" I asked. I always want to cause some trouble whenever I can. I was envisioning lascivious descriptions of "busty kernels" and "long, shapely stems" and "flexible wheat grass."

I also considered humorous poems or stories with the following titles: The Deaf Farmer; The Drunken Farmer; Wheat Weaving; With or Without Beards; The Prices Are in the Toilet Again; and John Deere Sucks.

The deadline is approaching. I don't know if I'll ever get anything submitted. If, however, you hear of Wheat Porn floating about on the internet, you probably know who wrote it.

Labels: writer's group, writing

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Writers' Group: A book on fire.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 0 comments link this post

A member of the writers' group I belong to recently self-published a book. Check it out.

Labels: writer's group, writing

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Writing: Something is unearthed.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 1 comments link this post

Today's writers' group went a little over time so that we didn't get to do our usual ten-minute writing exercise. However, everyone did their homework assignment from last meeting. The assignment had been to write about a woman digging in her garden who discovers a sealed, ancient box. The word limit was 500 to 1200 words, and we were to provide two different endings. Though the assignment wasn't followed exactly by all, there were a few interesting developments in the stories. I've included my story in the comments, and anyone else who tried their hand at the exercise is welcome to do so as well.

As usual, we had a lot of good books on writing brought to group and lent out. One I'm enjoying is 78 reasons why your book may never be published and 14 reasons why it just might be by Pat Walsh.

Assignment: Use the quote "It's lonely out here...surrounded by all of these people" in your writing. There is no word minimum, but it is important to not go over 600 words. It's as important to learn to write tight and not go over the limit by allowing yourself the luxury of bloated writing. (This writing prompt comes from The Writer's Book of Matches)

Labels: writer's group, writing, writing prompts

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Writing: Edgar Allen Poe buys some milk and a mysterious box is found.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 2 comments link this post

The homework assignment for today's writers' group session was tricky. We were to write a mini-mystery between 500 and 1200 words. That's not a lot of space to hook a reader, build a plot, sprinkle in the mysterious and bring it all to conclusion. I've included my homework assignment in the comments section of this post. Anyone else who gave it a try is welcome to do the same.

Our ten-minute writing assignment was taken from The Writer's Book of Matches: 1,001 Prompts to Ignite Your Fiction. We were to write on the following: Due to the raven that follows him wherever he goes, a young man is convinced that something terrible is about to happen.

I'll share mine. Leave your efforts in the comments if you'd like.

Poe's Milk
by Julie R. Neidlinger
(me, trying to remember the poem off the top of my head)

Once upon a midnight dreary...

There it was again, a compressed shadow flitting behind him, closely following the two-second rule. Its darkness was still visible against the fading daylight.

...while I pondered...

"What does it want," he thought, sweaty palms clenching and unclenching the grocery list in his pocket.

It spread its dark wings and with a sharp snap of them, landed on the wrought iron fence near the sidewalk.

He kept walking, looking forward but thinking backward, focused on what was behind him.

...weak and weary...

This was too much. For milk, eggs and fabric softener he was going to have to deal with the devil. He walked faster.

...there came a tapping...

It tilted its head up, throat rippling slightly, sharp mouth opening. An off-tune rasp came out. His heart began beating faster, held in only by his rib cage. All this for groceries! He turned around and, in a dead run, headed back home.

It lifted up, a floating shadow, a moving grimace, diving after him.

He reached his front porch and threw open the screen door.

...at my chamber door...

It sat there, watching him through the screen, moving with sharp twists of its neck. Its dark eyes watched him silently, as eyes are prone to do, seeing everything.

There'd be no milk tonight.

The raven rippled its wings, relaxed its legs and settled onto the porch. The evening darkened around him converging shadow upon shadow, leaving his shiny eyes the only movement.

There'd be no milk. Nevermore.

Assignment: If you're in the mood to try, our prompt for next week sounds like fun. It's from The Writer's Book of Matches, but we've added our own twist. A woman digging in her garden uncovers a sealed, ancient box. Write between 500-1200 words. Provide two different endings.

Labels: writer's group, writing, writing prompts

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Writing: We laughed, we cried, and we chose between the lesser of two evils.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 2 comments link this post

Today's writers group was oddly gory.

This, of course, was not the intention.

I shared some of my writing from a few years back on this blog, and a few members of our group dug up some of their old writing, back when they were in high school.

Bill's selection was a report he'd written on embalming. The report was both well-written and very detailed and suddenly my hot chocolate just didn't seem to taste so great. Throughout the rest of the meeting, in both off-topic discussion and in written exercise, the theme of blood and gore seemed to pop up in the strangest places. I'm not sure the other patrons of the coffee shop, if they could hear us in the back room, appreciated it.

The writing assignment from the last meeting, however, brought us back to the lighter side of things. John's short essay involved two hilarious neighbors, a plum tree and dog crap; he had the entire group laughing and he was laughing so much that at times he couldn't read. I told him to post what he'd written in the comments section here on this blog, so we'll see if he does. (Hint, hint).

Our 10-minute writing exercise for today's meeting was to write about a character who must choose between the lesser of two evils, a prompt taken from The Writer's Block: 786 Ideas to Jump-Start Your Imagination by Jason Rekulak.

As always, I'll include my efforts. I'd love to hear from others who try it.

Right or Left
by Julie R. Neidlinger

Right or left? The choice was too much. He paused.

Left or right, right or left.

If I go right I'll have to deal with the left, he thought. And if I go left, the right won't leave me alone.

He picked up the number two pencil again, tapping it against his lips. Just one circle was all he had to commit to.

Going right had it's appealing benefits, there was no doubt in his mind. But left? There were unions on the left.

The pencil felt heavy in his hand; he wished it would make the choice for him.

The sound of metal rings scraping along a curtain bar brought him out of his stupor.

I must decide, and soon! he thought frantically. If only he weren't from North Dakota. This wouldn't be an issue, this free choice that haunted him.

Left or right.

He placed the pencil on the paper and wrote in Daffy Duck. His ballot was complete. He was free to go.

Assignment: Your homework, should you decide to accept it, is to write a mini-mystery between 500 and 1200 words. I got this idea from a book I bought this week called 100 Malicious Little Mysteries where all the mysteries are one or two pages in length and great for when you have just a tiny bit of time to catch some reading. This assignment will be a tough challenge; writing a good mystery with few words sounds difficult. So have at it!

Labels: writer's group, writing, writing prompts

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Writing: Writing about shoes, and an assignment.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 2 comments link this post

The writing exercise at today's Lake Region Writers' Group meeting was, strangely, about shoes.

Borrowing a writing prompt from The Pocket Muse: Ideas and Inspirations for Writing by Monica Wood, our 10-minute challenge was seemingly simple. Write a scene in which a pair of shoes figures prominently.

We had one member write a detailed descriptive scene on giving a spit shine, and two wrote about shoes as evidence in a crime scene. I'll include my efforts below to give you an idea of how you don't have to write like Faulkner just to take part in an exercise. As always, I encourage you to use the comments section to include your efforts and ideas.

Short
by Julie R. Neidlinger

"You didn't walk a mile," she said. "You have no idea."

The short man -- he was barely four feet tall -- shook his head. "I couldn't walk a mile. They don't fit. Besides, I'm British."

"Are you against wearing leather?" she asked.

"No."

"-- because these are leatherette."

"It has nothing to do with what they're made out of," he said, standing up as tall as he could, his stocking-clad feet in the first stages of a chillblaines attack. "You're taller than me. They didn't fit."

She narrowed her eyes. "Then you can't tell me anything; no advice, no judgement."

"Just because I'm short doesn't mean you shouldn't listen to my good advice."

"I'm not against being short," she said.

The man shifted his cold feet. The woman went on.

"Until you've walked a mile in my shoes, you don't get to say anything."

The short man shook his head sadly. He'd never dreamed his height would be such a disability when he had decided to become a priest.

Assignment: The writing group actually wanted me to give them homework, and because power trips are my favorite travel destinations, I obliged. Taking a prompt from the same book by Wood, the assignment for the next meeting is to write about an escalating dispute between two normally polite, upstanding neighbors. The word count should come in somewhere around 500 words. If you get it done, feel free to post your efforts in the comments section.

Labels: writer's group, writing, writing prompts

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Writing: Writing about murder.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 0 comments link this post

Though only four members of the writing group braved the near-zero temperatures and icy wind and made their way to the Liquid Bean for our regular meeting, we had a great time.

John brought yet another great book which of course, I quickly grabbed up. He's turning into my regular lending library. You might want to check out the book: The First Five Pages: A Writer's Guide to Staying Out of the Rejection Pile by Noah Lukeman.

After the usual discussion on what we've been working on, we got to the writing exercise. I got today's topic out of The Writer's Block: 786 Ideas to Jump-Start your Imagination by Jason Rekulak.

The challenge? To write for ten minutes using the following for inspiration: Write from the point-of-view of someone who committed a murder today. Do not mention the murder.

I'll share mine below; it's not great, and that's the point. This was an exercise. I encourage others to share what their own version of this writing exercise in the comments below. Even if you couldn't make it to our writers' group, you can still get in on the fun.

Tart
by Julie R. Neidlinger

The apple tarts had a metallic taste; the weren't up to their usual snuff.

"What's wrong with these tarts?" he asked the waitress behind the diner counter. He didn't bother listening to her reply.

Pennies. The apple tarts tasted like pennies in his mouth.

She was a tart, he thought, his fork scraping against the plate. Tart.

The woman in the red booth across the diner caught his attention. He watched as she poured ketchup over a mound of French fries; thick, red, congealed.

He was angry. His shadow seemed even darker in the bright sun light.

He reached for the slice of bread on the plate next to him, left from his meal of hamburger steak, rare. His knife scraped and cut across the soft surface of the bread, the stiff butter snagging and tearing it. With a sharp jab, he plunged his table knife deep into the heart of the block of butter, scooting the plate across the counter surface with a loud, grating snap.

"Can I get you anything else?" the waitress asked warily.

Tart.

Labels: writer's group, writing, writing prompts

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Writing: An article, an assignment and some recommendations.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 0 comments link this post

The most recent meeting of the Lake Region Writers' Group was small (three regular members and a visitor) but productive.

First, we told ourselves how awesome we were for finishing up NaNo (four out of five of us did it, and that's none to shabby). One member even printed out the certificate that NaNo made available to those who had complete their 50,000 word novels and had it laminated. I'm going to have mine embedded in a brass placque and hung outside my door.

No, I'm not. But I am still reveling in pride over my personal triumph.

Newspaper article: In talking about the past month of frantic writing, we decided that I would write a short article for the local newspaper telling them about NaNo. You can read the article here (MS Word format, click on NaNo Article.doc).

Homework assignment: We also decided that I would email out a "homework" assignment to all the members of our group, not only the people that show up for meetings but also the many members of our Yahoo! group who are unable to come to our meetings. I decided I would also email the same "homework" assignment to my own Lone Prairie Group and see what kind of response I could get. If you decide to take part and are unable to make it to a meeting of the Lake Region Writers' Group, I encourage you to leave your written efforts in the comments section of this blog post.

Think of it as attending the writers' group by proxy. Anyway, here's the assignment. If you're reading this, whether you're a member of any of these groups or not, you are more than welcome to give them a try!

1. The Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest: Basically, bad writing is rewarded. Check out their website for more information on the details. It's fairly self-explanatory and our group will be working on this for the next few months. The official contest deadline is mid-April, but we are asking members of our group (and non-members, too!) to either bring a few samples to the next meeting or post them here, in the comments section. Write both a worst opening line and a best opening line.

2. Write the best opening "hook" paragraph of a story or novel. There is a 250 word limit on this paragraph. Basic goal? Hook your reader big time in the first paragraph.

Book recommendations: Various members of the writing group bring books and other materials to meetings if they think others might find them useful. You can download a list of these books at the writers' group site or at my own Lone Prairie group site. (MS Word format, click on LRWG Book Recommendations.doc)

Labels: writer's group, writing, writing prompts

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The Everything Group, for the right brained.

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Writing about clutter.

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After two months, I'm back.

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Remember me? Of course I do.

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One less around the table.

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Whispering wheat.

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Writers' Group: A book on fire.

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Writing: Something is unearthed.

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Writing: Edgar Allen Poe buys some milk and a mysterious box is found.

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Writing: We laughed, we cried, and we chose between the lesser of two evils.

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Writing: Writing about shoes, and an assignment.

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Writing: Writing about murder.

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Writing: An article, an assignment and some recommendations.

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