March 27, 2024. Future Generations

 Warm up

What strategies are working so far in your writing?

Any techniques that are working for you.

5 minutes to think about it.

What has worked for me was the last writing prompt, and everyone’s concerne\ns about their writing. I shared a piece about my father and then talked with my sister about my mother and t hat opened a floodgate of meories for her, and I thought, this conversation is really good, how can I can continue it, giving her permission to talk and also saying I wouldn’t write her thoughts or ideas in any history I wrote, especially without her permission maybe except to say, she was there for my parents t. Still it does feel like an intrusion onto her space and I remembered the idea of giving the relatives a changce to expression express their epersonal histories, without being intrusive. I didn’t realize how much that intrusiveness impacted my writing but now I think I should write an historical fiction piece, like about what couldn’’ve been. Then I encountered a thought that I have been trailing for a while about about how ideas seem to come together sometimes to justify a point of view, and that happens in dreams, in intuitive, in soothsayers like Nostradamus, and how much that affects writers. Then I thought about a book I just read about Amelies NOrthombs father called first blood and how the review questioned her memory of events, but was that really important if it was a really good story.  

Who are the people in your legacy. “Who are the people in your neighborhood.” What are the stories that they bring?”  I.E. People and their stories. Start with stepping stones.  Who is in there, who is making things happen and then what are those stories.

LIST OF PEOPLE IN YOUR LIFE. 3 people you would like to focus on today (yourself)

Dad, Moms, Great Aunt Viola, Grandfather, Grandmother, their siblings and their surrounds, Not my siblings (too close),Grandfather and Grandmother on Mother’s Side, Neighbor down the street, next door neighbor, neighbor across the street, house across the street, Christianson, Gould, neighbor next to me and next to that neighbor, the, neighbor on  the corner. The neighbor across the railroad tracks, Ma Luis, Luisita, Jorquite, Sofia, the neighbors who collected rocks, the neighbors who grew peonies, the neighbor I had breakfast at,  the neighbor with no shoes, Marjorie, Miss Tedder, Flyer Thompson.The neighbor that lived on Grey Cloud Island */Gentry and Jeanette). 

“A Character sketch” something new: a form of descriptive writing, create a written portrait of a person and of self or some aspect of yourself, Paint a picture with words, physical, surrounds, things they do, the kind of relationship you have with that person, take a look at the people your chose, identify them. Jot down for two people: a quick jot down of their physical aspects, where do they belong, which stepping stone do they belong to. Take a couple of moments, 3 minutes to jot down some ideas, before start the actual writing.

Great Aunt Viola, 97 years old, put together a reunion for all the extended family all over the world, Lovely laugh, soft appearance, smiling, yet sharp as a tack, eyes clouded by cataracts but could still see, read people by their voices, and didn’t hold back on comments of fact, not derisional, grateful, amazed by the world around her, amazed by her grandchildren, one who took care of her. Lived in a one bedroom house in Proctor Minnesota, which she divided in 2 to take in income for rent, resourceful.

Now write about this person as a character sketch. Any vivid images, start with  that. Maybe start by explaining with this person doing or saying something. Keep writing, don’t stop, follow your train of thought. Just following your train of thought. 

X is important to me because. 

I picked this picture because it was so central to my grandfather’s sister. She told me a story, actuallyalso wrote a story or listed events in the life of her family, that got me thinking and because of that these kinds of images stick with me. She’s important because at the age of 97 she “said it like it was” and was totally coherent plus enjoyed her visitors in a way I can only describe as welcoming. It was as though she had been waiting for you to drop by all day long, and when you walking into her small one bedroom house in Northern Minnesota. A house with dark soft lights, no ambient noise, just the quiet of the surroundings and her quiet voice, you felt enveloped by that graciousness. I have had several dreams in my life where I am surrounded by grandmothers all like her, with her rounded beaming face, and sparkly eyes, cradling me as though I were the most lovely creature ever. And those smiles and that laughter at life’s impossibilities included me with a sense of joy and wonder in the world around me, and it seems to come at that oddest moments and always with an atttachment of the image of her holding my infant child, as though she were the happiest person in  the world. I believe and still do believe that she is the happiest, or was the happiest person  I had ever met. No bitterness or rancor, just kind of amazed at the people that surrounded her, kind of never surprised, but always accepting, like “oh, that’s how they roll” as though it was more new  information to take in , in a life already filled with a century of clanged, she was born in 1896, so she had some experience on some level of the US entering into The Spanish Warat the end of the century, or was it the French, WWI and WWii and then Korea and Vietnam. And still held no political distrust, she made do with what she was given, and welcomed all into her home. Although both of her husbands had passed away and all of her children, she did not dewell on the poverty that ensued, but simply notices what she had to do. Take in slewing, divide the house in 2 and rent out half. There was always an answer in her mind. And finally now when one of her 2 surviving grand tend stayed with her to help her care for herself, she was grateful. Sometimes wondered  why, but just accepted it. she appreciated the doctors who always wanted to help her get better from illness they though could impact her, and when they continually compounded the problem, she graciously declined to follow through on their advice. She wrote letters to me she said from the sides of her at acts and although the line in the writing was wobbly, it was the only letters I received when I was out of the country for  8 years. I loved visiting her, and wished Icould do more to see her, but Iwas in a place in my life where I couldn’t travel that much in and out of the country. That reunion I told you about was a  life line for me and I insisted everyone I knew come with me to her house to go to celebrate. It’s wonderful, and in someways terrible, but wonderful in the way that clouds pour rain on to a parched earth. Her stories filled me with hopeanda background I knew nothing about and am still searching for today. I guess you would say I loved her. 

Reflection write: review, high list, what you learned, what about going forward?

I kind  of reflected while I wrote, of the characteristics I consider the ones I value: a sense of humor combined with acceptance, the ability to adapt and the ability to be thankful, and to be in the moment. Going forward, I think this would be a good template for writing future stories. I am missing some details about the TIME, WHAT WAS GOING ON, WEATHER, PHYSICAL SURROUNDS, PEOPLE IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD. 

Make sure we know who this person is through scenes and more dialogue. Take a look at the person you have identified. Is there a scene or interaction with you or with someone else? Take 2 minutes to land on a scene in the character sketch.

The Tylers lived down the street from my house, and I really don’t remember their first names because they were The Tylers. Somehow my parents knew about their rock collection and stated I could ask them if I wanted to, to see that collection, because by then I had accumulated boxes of rocks that intrigued me. Some were geodes, some were simple granite, some quartz, some agate and some a kind of chert. So I set out down the road to knock on their door. I don’t know if my parents called them ahead of time. But I wasn’t really sure I would actually do that. I was a bright sunny day in rural Minnesota, kind of dusty. I never really liked being out in the sun, because when I sweat it dripped down into my eyes and stung. But this time I kept going. I was given general directions.Like the house that is painted green about a block from here. I slowly walked in the general direction and eventually came across a house that was painted a kind of dark green with concrete steps leading up to the door. I knocked on the door, I didn’t really want to ring the bell, but eventually I think I did. I was about 10 years old at the time. When the door opened, I  introduced myself.

And they introduced themselves to my as “Mr and Mrs Tyler”

I stood there for a while, finally “can I see your rock collection?”

The house was so dark and they walked me into an even darker room.  I welcomed the coolness but now wondered what I had  done. “Don’t look into the light, just look at the rocks inside.” I kept quiet, waiting for an explanation, too nervous to ask why.

“It’s a black light and it will hurt your eyes if you look directly into it.” I followed directions as I saw how magically the dull rocks started to sparkle  and shine. They explained that rocks with white quartz would look bluish in the light.k

“Would you like to see  our home movie?”

I didn’t stay for that, but it was the first of many visits I took to their house, watching their home movies showing them rock hunting.

Eventually I got permission from my parents to go with them to  a rock shop in Minnesapolis that was right on Lake Street and I think stayed as such until about 25 years ago, when it became for a while a candle shop. Now when I look for the shop it seems like all of those building are gone or transformed either into parking garages or apartments/condominiums, and it’s so noisy along that street I don’t believe I can think of anything but making sure I pay attention to traffic.

Once they even took me out to eat and I ordered a hamburger, but I was so uncomfortable in the setting that when I put the recommended Ketchup on the sandwich it spilled all over the plate and me, but I don’t remember saying anything except being kind of mortified by the  event, compounded by all of the attention. 

REFLECTION;   Noticed the weather and discomfort, extreme introversion on my part, the curiosity, and the dread, how I had no preparation for the events and now I know that as a kind of introversion that is typical for me, wanting to know all of the possibilities and the environment before I enter into a new situation. How comforting it is for me to be one on one with someone and how I recognized that in my grandson. I love the stories about the grandchilren as a legacy for them. Kind of writing their own diary when they are not. Perhaps in the form of children’s books. 

Now about yourself, sub personality of yourself, main characteristics, aspect of time. Generous, stubborn, high  minded, driven say what’s on my mind,  2 minutes of note taking and then do the write. In pain, limping, look of pain on may face, hard to say no. Talk about myself too much or what surrounds me, hard to stay interested in others, except as they help me think about myself. Too self-critical perhaps Always want to learn, Have to finish what I start, but start too many things. Sometimes forgiving, other times not. Love new recipes, start a new experience. Think about someone who might be at the receiving end of it, child or future generations. Suggested prompt: “Here’s a bit about who I am/was….”

For my grandchildren: Perhaps you have been wondering who I am or who I was before you were born. I think about that now, because I am thinking about my grandparents and great grandparents as I try to have a context in my life. I moved to Michigan to be with  your mom and dad, before you were born. Your parents invited me here and it was and is the best invitation I have ever had. To be near them and be a part of the lives they were creating, both professionally and with you all. I hoped I would have the energy to keep up with you, because I wanted to be around you so much. I moved here during the Covid Pandemic and I have to admit I was glad to be moving away from a profession where I was exposed to the virus on a daily basis. So part of me was willing to quit everything I was doing to avoid getting sick. Well, now I understand how that anxiety was well founded and subsequently the support that your mom and dad gave me during the move and my subsequent life here was life saving and grounding. I was so lucky to be able to take care of you Brendan, you were like sunshine in my life, you wanted to help me around the house and made sure I completed my routines. 

I moved into a townhouse that I rented for 3 years before I moved to my current house in Ada. Over the last year I had a “series of unfortunate events” that made it difficult for me to go anywhere, but this year I am on the mend, and hope to be seeing more of you. Brendan, you and I took walks everyday down a path that was wooded and covered with flowers, where we saw and heard birds, where we saw deer and rabbits, and picked flowers. Usually we were the only ones on the path, and you loved to climb into the bike trailer to go on our adventures. Off and on we saw Mallard Ducks in little ponds that formed behind my townhome and I took pictures. I wanted to write a book for you and I still may do it, as you develop more of an interest in this stuff. You recognized some of the butterflies we took pictures of in Meijirs gardens that I posted in my kitchen the other day. 

I CAN I HAVE AND I WILL

OPPOSITE SISTERS OVER THE 3 WRITES