On Being Stuck, Needing Rest, and Forgiving Oneself by Laurel S. Peterson

First, thanks E. B. Davis, and Writers Who Kill for hosting me. I’m honored to be here.

This is about the fifth incarnation of this blog post. I’ve been writing most of my life and at the moment I can’t come up with a single thing to say that’s light-hearted. On my mind, I’ve got gum surgery, a cat lost to cancer, the inauguration, my return to the spring semester’s teaching in a state that’s $1.4 billion in debt, and an uncle who died at Christmas. I’m stuck.

Modern American society seems to suggest that if one isn’t working, one is wasting time. My cat thought differently. For him, rest was the point, preferably snuggled up against someone warm. I should learn from him.

But I, like many people I know, have difficulty with rest. There’s so much to do: we have to write the next novel, find reviewers, go to conferences, write blog posts, go to our day jobs, feed our families, clean the closets. I look at the list and get depressed.

I don’t really want to write at the moment; I’d much rather be drinking a martini and watching “Good Girls Revolt.” (And if you haven’t seen it, it’s on Amazon Prime.)

What I need is a way to stop. Yoga helps, if I do it. Going to the gym helps. Reading a good book helps, although sometimes that feels like work, too. More often these days, beauty helps. Museums are important to me, because they house so much of it. Beauty—or any kind of art, and that includes literature—makes me believe that no matter the trauma or disaster, something meaningful can come out of it. 

I suppose that’s what happens for my character Clara Montague in Shadow Notes. She comes home because she dreams her mother is in danger, and the danger she discovers is so much greater than she imagined. What gets her through are her friendships and the memories that she has of all the beautiful gardens she’s visited, like Versailles or the Royal Botanic Gardens in Sydney, Australia. If I weren’t so terribly tired, I would go find you pictures of those. Instead, here’s one from the Monet’s Garden exhibit at the New York Botanical Garden, which is equally fabulous.

Sometimes, I think not-writing is important. And forgiving ourselves for not writing is important, too, especially if, like me, you’re a Type A. (Remember those?) We need time to heal from whatever has hurt us before we can write about it—or anything else.

So I’m taking the rest of the week off. I’m going to make a decadent white chocolate Frangelico mousse for a party of friends on Friday. Saturday, I’m going to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York to look at beautiful things and be soothed. I hope in your busy life, you find some time for beauty, too.

What soothes you? Do you schedule time to rest in the same way you schedule time to write? Is writing your “resting,” the thing that renews you? I’d love to hear your thoughts, and thanks so much for stopping by. 

                                 

Laurel S. Peterson is a Professor of English at Norwalk Community College. Her mystery novel, Shadow Notes, was released by Barking Rain Press in May 2016. In addition to writing mysteries, she has published two poetry chapbooks, That’s the Way the Music Sounds, from Finishing Line Press (2009) and Talking to the Mirror from The Last Automat Press (2010), and a full length collection, “Do You Expect Your Art to Answer You?” was released by Futurecycle Press in January 2017. In 2016 – 2018, she is serving as the town of Norwalk’s Poet Laureate. You can find her at: www.laurelpeterson.com, on Twitter @laurelwriter49 or on Facebook. Drop by!

SHADOW NOTES by Laurel S. Peterson

Clara Montague’s mother Constance never liked—or listened—to her but now they have to get along or they will both end up dead. Can Clara find the connection between the murders and her mother’s past that will save her mother and finally heal their relationship?

Clara suspects she and her mother share intuitive powers, but Constance always denied it. When Clara was twenty, she dreamed her father would have a heart attack. Constance claimed she was hysterical. Then he died.

Furious, Clara leaves for fifteen years, but when she dreams Constance is in danger, she returns home. Then, Constance’s therapist is murdered and Constance is arrested.

Starting to explore her mother’s past, Clara discovers books on trauma, and then there’s a second murder.

Can Clara find the connection between the murders and her mother’s past that will save her mother and finally heal their relationship?