Palisades Amusement Park…by Kait Carson

Oh no, I’m not stepping on any copyright, but I bet you’re humming!

I really wanted to post something serious and writerly this month. Something worthy of Writers Who Kill. I tried, I started at least ten wonderful posts. They died. Hum, does that fit with the Writers Who Kill theme? Nah. Not really, the deaths were neither mysterious nor unexplained. They died, you see, of boredom.

This is Memorial Day weekend. A serious and hopeful double-header for my friends and family during my school years that still permeates my senses. Serious because the weekend commemorates the sacrifice of hundreds of thousands of men and women across the decades in the service of their country. Fun because it’s the start of the crazy, lazy, long, dreamy, days of summer!

The halcyon days of pools, beaches, and amusement parks opening are long gone. My brother and I no longer argue over who controls the radio knob. Me listening to WABC (Cousin Brucie!) in the brief time between parade and fireworks, or him, listening to the roar of race cars at the Indy 500. I can still smell the fried chicken competing with the scent of fresh cut grass and the excitement of waiting for the fireworks to begin. If we were lucky, we had places on the hill where we could see into the stadium. As dark fell, the floor of the local high school stadium became a fairyland of sparkling lights telling the story of the revolution, as George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, and the White House swirled in colors that seemed to ignite one from the other. As they faded to darkness, Old Glory sprang to life in front of the scoreboard and the first of the skyward explosions took off. The show never varied, and it never ceased to awe.

Memorial Day was almost as much fun as Christmas. It marked, after all, the end of a school year. A far more important year to a kid then the turn of a calendar year. Nothing would ever be the same. You were going to the next grade. Huge questions loomed for the fall about teachers and classmates. That was the future. Summer was the present. It was the perfect time to make changes, reinvent yourself, rededicate yourself, make new habits, learn something new and exciting, and move ahead and figure out what to do over.

As Memorial Day approaches I still have that same feeling of pent up excitement building. Anything is possible, and frankly, 2017 so far, well, it’s been pretty harsh. I could use a do over. How about you? Nothing done will change, but maybe, just maybe 2017 redux will get better, and better, and better.

See you at Palisades! I’m riding the coaster again this year, but this time—up front!

The Gift and the Dinner Invitation

by Julie Tollefson

Despite my best intentions, 2017 so far has fallen short of the roaring, productive writing year I envisioned at the end of 2016. Whatever the cause—post-holiday-hustle weariness, flu, mid-winter doldrums—my creative well has been in serious need of refilling.

In recent weeks, by chance, I found a bit of inspiration and renewed energy in a Christmas gift and a dinner invitation.

The gift: Born to Run, Bruce Springsteen’s new memoir. I came late to Springsteen fandom—1984, the “Born in the USA” tour—and I’ve had an on-again, off-again love affair with his music since.  The stories in his memoir about his life and rise to superstardom are interesting, but the pieces I find most fascinating are the descriptions of his creative process. This passage, for example, could apply to short stories or novels as easily as it does to songwriting:

The precision of the storytelling in these types of songs is very important. The correct detail can speak volumes about who your character is, while the wrong one can shred the credibility of your story. When you get the music and lyrics right, your voice disappears into the voices you’ve chosen to write about. (p. 401)

It’s inspiring to read the stories behind the songs, to get some insight into the creative process and struggles of an unquestionably successful and prolific artist.

The dinner invitation: An “authors and appetizers” fundraiser for the local chapter of Altrusa, an international service organization with a focus on literacy projects. A friend invited me to join her for this evening featuring Barbara Stuber, author of 2015 Kansas Notable Book Girl in Reverse, and Nancy Pickard, author of The Scent of Rain and Lightning (recently made into a motion picture and, fingers crossed, coming to nearby movie screens soon), and I’m so glad I did. Barbara and Nancy talked about their muses, research, and the roots of their stories. Their accounts struck just the right note and felt like the personal pep talk I needed to get past my recent bout of ennui.


The gift and the dinner invitation. Inspiration and encouragement. How do you re-energize your creativity when the well runs dry?