A Curse Poem

Now that my writing class is over (Writing Poetry to Say the Unsayable--Sheila Bender) I wanted to share one of my favorites. We had some fun writing the curse poem in class.    

Curse you Computer

And your microchips too

May they turn into nachos

Dripping with goo

 

Curse you computer

With your cursor a-blinking

May your data dissolve

As the hard drive stops thinking

 

Curse you computer

And your email box too

May you develop a virus

Most voracious to you

 

Curse you computer

And your functioning keys

I shall soak them in soda

And clog them with grease

 

Curse you computer

And your foul clicking mouse

May he move from the mouse pad

Right into your house

 

Curse you computer

You inhuman freak  

You stole my husband

And gave me a geek

To give some background, my husband has a computer business.
If you were to write a curse poem, what would be your curse? 

New Poems Coming Soon

photo by Chelsea Roberson

My poetry class has been interesting. Sheila Bender is a great teacher, I highly recommend if you're looking. It is so easy online. You never have to be embarrassed when you read out loud because no one can see or hear you!

Sheila's prompts have been educational and fun. We are working on Persona poems right now, which I like because you get to say what you want and write through the eyes of someone or something else. There's one assignment and two weeks of class left. I've produced about 5 poems, some need more revising.

I was planning to post one for my birthday tomorrow, but it needs more work, and I'll have more time to fix it next week. I will post it for you to see. If I keep waking up at 4 a.m. with ideas, I might post it sooner!

The way the class works is we turn in two poems a week and one revision. At first, I was thinking this is too much work. Usually, I don't write poetry that fast, but you'd be surprised what help a deadline can be. Especially if you are paying $$ for the class.

I'm in the class with 3 other students and we critique each other's work too, all gals, all terrific poets. Small class, great teacher, win, win! More next week.

Nothing Ventured...

Ready for class.

Every now and then my writing seems to fall flat, and I start to look for ways to give it a zing. In the past, writing prompts have helped, but I am looking for a long term solution. When a writer friend recommended an online class I was, at first, hesitant. 

I know there are the usual concerns like cost and time, but when I looked at our budget I noticed much more frivolous spending going on. Education is not frivolous, and too, one can make time for something that is worthwhile, something that can improve one’s ability.

There is another concern that rattles me, fear. Fear of failure, or in the context of writing this fear equates to rejection, but rejection is a flimsy excuse for a writer. Unfortunately, I am all too familiar with negative response. Anxiety is more the issue here, and it’s aimed at the idea of an online class, something I haven’t done before.

Nothing ventured nothing gained, I tell myself, a cliché, but it’s true. It helps to think back to a conversation I had with my father. Dad loved driving and I often went for rides with him. On one such ride, he told me his thoughts about the word combination, have to. He said, “Barbara, do you know that in this world there is nothing that you have to do?” Since I was a young child at the time, my father did not include a discussion about having to die.

This have to idea seemed unbelievable to me. I proposed many examples to try and prove him wrong. “You have to go to work, to sleep, to eat, dress, brush your teeth, and etc…” Dad listened and suggested alternatives to each.

Finally, exasperated with his game, I said, “You have to go to school.”

He said, “No, you don’t. You can stay home and watch cartoons, or you can put off school till you are older if you want.”

Well that sounded ridiculous to me. “Do you mean like you? You’re too old for school,” I told him.  At around age 35, Dad seemed old to me.

Perhaps he laughed before answering. “You’re never too old to learn new things.”

My father valued education. Since he loved photography, he learned late in life how to develop and print his own photos. When we moved to Guam, he built a boat with a friend from work, but it didn't live up to his expectations. He either gave it away or he salvaged it. Dad was not afraid of failing. He seemed to enjoy the challenge.

I finished my traditional college degree when I was forty-nine. Now, a decade later, it’s time for another challenge. Thanks Dad.

News in the New Year

Phone sketch photo by Dave Toboni

 

1.)  Third time is the charm! I won Honorable Mention awards for two poems in the 2013 Redwood Writers PoetryContest. This is a major accomplishment as it is the third time I’ve entered the competition since becoming a California Writers Club member. Most of the entrants are accomplished, published, poets so the talent quotient is high. The judges picked blind so they had no idea that both awards were going to be me. Click on Redwood Writers Contest above if you'd like to see who else won, and you can also read my winning poems by scrolling down to my bio and clicking on the titles.  

2.)   My book, Water Over Time, was published in 2013 and it is for sale on Amazon and locally at Copperfield’s, Napa Bookmine, and Jessel Gallery!

3.)  I'm going to have three additional poems published in a poetry anthology titled,  And The Beat Goes On. Catharine Bramkamp is the Editor, a fellow member of the Redwood Writers Club. The book will launch in April.
 

Also for anyone who is more interested in a literary reading than the Super Bowl there will be an OPEN MIC event organized by the California Writers Club-Napa at Napa Bookmine on February 2nd. from 3 to 5 p.m. Hubby usually escorts me to these events but not this time because of the Super Bowl. This will be the club's first reading at Napa Bookmine so I plan to be there and to read.

It feels good to focus on the positives. This is a great start to my new year.  

 

First Friday Fling

I recently went to an art show at Main Street Gallery in Lakeport. My friend, Elaine Lewis, the artist who illustrated my book cover for Water Over Time, invited me. She wanted me to bring a few books that I might sell. I was excited to see Elaine’s paintings and be part of the show. After pinning on a name tag and meeting two of the gallery’s organizers and a few of the artists, I sat down at a table to discuss my books. It was a lovely affair with live music and a wine tasting along with goodies to eat. I’m told they host these art and wine parties the first Friday of every month, called First Friday Fling.  

Elaine and I enjoyed hearing the positive feedback for both her paintings and my book cover. Hopefully you will have a chance to visit this gallery. There is something for everyone, watercolors, oils, pastels, pencil drawings, photography, and jewelry. Also on display: turned wood and metal sculpture. Very cool. And don’t forget to admire my books! They will be featured along with Elaine’s art through the month of January.

Elaine, Barbara, and Elaine's art



Many attendees

Books!

Books!

"Water Over Time"

Hello, my adoring fans! What's the point of having a blog if you can't do a little boasting now and then. My books are here! It was such a kick to open the box and find them, all shiny and new. I spent two years off and on writing the poems and stories, some of that time I didn’t realize I was writing a book. Below is the description I wrote for Amazon.com.

When Barbara Toboni takes a trip back to Guam in 2010, she finds what remains of the family’s first home abandoned and barely visible, ravaged by many years of storms. The house becomes a symbol for the author inspiring her to write poetry and short prose about her life on the island spanning twelve years. Memories are clear and portray Barbara’s coming of age as she grows from pre-teen to young woman.

I hope some of you will order the book from Amazon, or if you live in Napa, stop by, stop me on the street, or stop me while I shop, and I will sell you a copy out of the back of my car. I plan to take a few copies to a local bookstore and perhaps Jessel Gallery would be interested, as they do have my other little book, Undertow. I’m very proud of both my books. Can you tell? So wow! Here we go! Buy! Thank you!

A few books have been signed and sent off to relatives. For those cousins and friends I didn’t send books to I apologize, but it would be nice to make a little money. If I send to one cousin, the other cousins would be jealous. How do I choose? Do you see what I mean? And the book is cheap, $5.50 plus shipping. It’s not a large book. It’s what they call a chapbook, 32 pages. It won’t take you long to read, and please let me know what you think.   

Pictures are included, all but one taken by my father, Morton Friedman, whom among other things was a terrific amateur photographer. Amber Lea Starfire helped me format my book for CreateSpace. And Amber, along with my other workshop pals, Patsy Ann Taylor and Christina Julian supported me through the whole process. To them I say thanks and cheers!  

For comments, what are you most proud of lately?

Keeping a Secret

I’ve known Tish, my hairdresser, since the 80’s when I stumbled into her shop with a hair emergency. Not wanting to do anything too drastic to my long hair, I had let another hair pro lop off inches to my shoulders, but the outcome was dreadful. I had paid good money to resemble a sphinx. Seriously, it is not a good look to have your entire head look like a pyramid. Thank goodness Tish had time to remedy the situation.

With a good eye for style, she washed, clipped, and blew dry my mop into a more appealing do, and in return she became my new hair pro forever more. Back then, Tish and her husband, Dana worked together at their salon on Jefferson Street, and I liked their easy banter, which often included their clientele.

Tish and I had much in common both being the same age and married with two children. We discussed friends, relatives, trips, and holidays. When Whitney, Tish’s niece and Jim, my youngest son started dating, we had even more to talk about.

Shhh! Don’t tell the kids. They don’t like it when we talk about them.  

My hair style hasn’t changed much over the years and I still rely on her today, but during my last appointment six weeks ago, we were both oddly quiet, and it had everything to do with keeping a secret. October 9^th, 2013, I entered the shop with my mouth zipped shut. I was determined not to share any information about Jim and Whitney. Jim had confided in his father and me recently that he had planned to propose to Whitney on her birthday, which happened to be the next day, October 10^th.


I had known about the engagement when I made my appointment, but I couldn’t delay my do any longer. That familiar sphinx still haunted me when I looked in the mirror. I would have to keep my mouth shut. I didn’t want to spoil their surprise and, I might add, no one had proposed yet, and no one had accepted.

I did my part by not saying a word, but I noticed Tish was oddly quiet too, a mystery. I tried, “Can you believe it hasn’t rained this season?”

"No.” Tish looked about to yawn.

I led again, “Do you get many trick-or-treaters for Halloween?” Luckily, that subject took hold for a few minutes, and the owner of the shop sparked some interest when he walked in off the street carrying a scarecrow to be used as a decoration.

Then the conversation waned again. I sighed and closed my eyes, but the sound of the scissors grew unbearably loud. Snip, snip, snip. What was wrong with Tish? I asked about her health. She mumbled a few words and then, thankfully, the blow dryer muted everything. After that it was time to pay and leave. Good for me! I had kept my secret.

Six weeks later, with my hair out of control again, I called Tish to make an appointment. By then, Jim and Whitney’s news has made the rounds, emails, Facebook, and good old-fashioned word of mouth. I laughed when she congratulated me over the phone about the engagement. I told her I was relieved now because we could talk about the wedding. Jim had proposed and Whitney had said yes.

Tish said, “I knew about Jim’s plan to propose when you came in last month, but I didn’t want to say anything either, thinking it would be awful if I knew before the groom’s mother." 

We congratulated each other on keeping a huge secret, although it’s still a mystery to me as to how she knew about the engagement plan. No matter. For now, I’ll just have to assume aunts know these things.  

Whitney and Jim

 

Zorie, Zorry, Zori

Photo by iMool

Ever feel like your eyes are in the right place at the right time? Recently, while reading Your Daily Poem—a fun website that emails followers a new poem every day—I spotted the word, zorry. One of the stories in my upcoming shiny new collection, Water Over Time, is called “The Zorie Sisters.” After having done a hasty search of sandal advertisements on the Internet, I trusted my spelling of zorie was correct.

How lucky to be reading a poem displaying the word, zorry.  Made me question its spelling. My chapbook is in the final just-a-smidgen-left stage of edits before zipping off to CreateSpace.

Only yesterday, Amber, my high-tech helper, emailed me a PDF version. “Give it a last look,” she said.

Excitedly, I opened my copy, this after reading my daily poem. How odd is it that I should read a poem featuring a zorry? It’s not like zorry, or zori, or zorie, is a common word. Is someone up there trying to help me? Do I have an editing angel?

Wishing to mind the signs that be, I consulted Wikipedia: “Zōri (草履^?) are flat and thonged Japanese sandals…quite similar to flip-flops…” I changed my spelling, and I bow to Wiki and kiss zori. Thank you, Japan, for zori. Slipping into flip-flops is one of the joys of summer.

Thank goodness my eyes were in the right place at the right time.   

Water Over Time, thirty-three pages of stories, poems, and pictures about growing up in Guam, including the story, “The Zori Sisters,” is nearing completion. Then off we go. Stay tuned.

Are We Done Yet?

My old Guam neighborhood
Picture sample for upcoming chapbook

When riding in the car with your parents, do you remember asking, "Are we there yet?" The answer was vague, "Just around the bend." Vague, because as a little girl, I couldn't tell how long the bend was, no frame of reference for maps, and miles, and hours.

In memoir, just around the bend can take you back years, and although you have a map, you will need a magnifying glass, and the miles don't tell you about stops along the way, and the hours don't tell you who you're going to meet, or how long you need to stay and talk, so there is no one to ask except for yourself, "Are We Done Yet?"

 I feel exactly like that little girl in the back seat now about to publish Water Over Time, my chapbook about growing up in Guam, "Are we done yet?"

"Close," is the answer. Decisions are being made, and I finished the About the Author page, which jolted me out of my creativity mode, and set me back into a reality mode. Reality being, I'm making a list and getting things done. 

I've decided to self-publish, and to use CreateSpace, and to get some help. A fellow writing group member, Amber Lea Starfire, has been a valuable resource. She writes a brilliant blog at Writing Through Life. She has used CreateSpace services in the past with great success and has offered advice and encouragement.

Some people can zip over to CreateSpace, upload their file, tap the submit button, and everything they enter turns golden, but I'm an anxious sort of person and I worry a lot about styles, and formats, and the end product.

Patsy Ann Taylor, another writing group pal, wrote on the acknowledgements page of her book, Click, "Writing is an activity usually endured alone. But from opening sentence to coda an author, if she is lucky, has support along the way."

Sooo maybe there is someone, other than myself, I can ask, "Are we done yet?"

In the meantime, I am reading one of the stories from my collection at SISTERS Consignment Couture in Sonoma along with two other authors, arranged by Laura McHale Holland. I invite you to come by if you're able.

 

Friday, Oct. 4, 2013

7 to 8:30 p.m.

Authors will share original writing about

sisters born or sisters found.

Open mic will follow for further readings on the theme. 

Crying Babies

photo by Stefan Gara

If you read my last blog, there's been a slight change. I'm in the editing stage of my book. Perhaps you didn't notice, but I sure did. After all, a mother can recognize her own baby's cry, and boy, was my baby crying. How could I not see this before? One very awkward sentence. It wasn’t me. Baby must have written that one herself and she can’t write yet, but I fixed it, and now it reads fine.

Second guessing seems to be the norm. Lying awake last night─that's right, babies keep you up at night─I wondered if my sarcastic tone might put off a whole race of people, but after another look again this very early a.m., I think not. I'm mostly happy with the content of stories and poems. I need to edit and think about design.

Only one more page to write, About the Author. I know nothing about myself. After all these years, what can I say that is new and endearing?

After that, the publishing process begins, but I would also like to add a few pictures. I'm very vain and I was quite beautiful as a young girl. It will be hard not to use many. Seriously, I have to decide how many pictures are appropriate, and will they work in black and white or should I use color? I have at least two in mind.
.
And what about contests? Should I enter? Try to get a few books published for free and win prize money? Sounds good, but it’s a long process. What, what, what, is the best route? My workshop buddies share advice, but ultimately the decision is mine. I will probably have Copy Corner in Napa print my chapbooks again. They did a great job with Undertow, in 2011. 

Want to hear the best news of all? I showed a friend photos of the trip I took to Guam in 2010, and asked her opinion about one of the pictures for the cover of my book. She’s an artist so I thought she would have a good eye, and she said, “I can paint that for you.”

Wow! Her name is Elaine Lewis and she works out of her home in Lake County. She does a show at a gallery in Lakeport once a year, and she’s won many prizes at the local fair.

So lots of little things to think about for baby, but first I have to get her to stop crying. Anyone want to weigh in here?