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?
