Celebrating a century - TruLife

Celebrating a century - TruLife

I worked for the Index while I was in college at Truman State University. What an awesome experience! I served as a sports writer and sports editor -- the latter during the 1997-98 school year. I remember working 60-plus hours a week for the paper, skipping classes to make sure stories were written, edited and pasted. I made some great friends and we have some great war stories to share those rare times we're together 10 years later. At that time, teachers (especially those who'd actually worked in the journalism industry) were telling us that our clips were more important than our transcripts. And that was truly the case, as my clips landed me my first job -- and the rest is poverty-stricken history. Just kidding. I'm glad the Index is still around, and it seems to get better with age. Me, not so much!

Another poem

This one has a somewhat elementary rhyme scheme, but the more I read it, the more I like it. What do you think?

Legacy
By Eric Eckert

When we age, we strain to see
Just what our legacy will be.
A chest of treasure, silver and gold
Or simply the feat of growing old?

A castle, some jewels? No, I do not believe
Those are the things that we would like to leave
Behind to the loved ones who relied so much
On our abilities, our strengths and, at times, our touch.

Who we are – that is something to consider,
Not what we’ve collected, those things leave us bitter.
Not want for belongings, materials will fade.
But want for the laughter, the time that was made.

Dinners at home ‘round the table at night,
The pat on the back for a chore that’s done right,
A good wish in a card, maybe a note to say hi.
Those are the legacies for which we should strive.

A trip to the ballpark, or a hike through the trees,
Catch in the back yard, or fishing the streams.
Time with a coloring book, a story before bed.
Those are the wonders that will be remembered.

Have we served our own masters with selfish delight?
Or did we pass on what we knew to be right?
Responsibility, stewardship, justice, faith –
How about caring for others? Or giving all away?

Did we talk with one face yet act with the other?
Did we engage? Or did we ignore our brothers?
Did we care for our neighbors, for their spiritual being?
Or did we walk on by and pretend not to see?

Did we submit to the Lord? Put our lives in His hands?
Or did we do it ourselves, and forego all His plans?
Were we selfish, impure, drunk, or enslaved?
Did we acknowledge our weakness and ask to be saved?

Did we pass on to children a reflection of Christ?
Or did we concentrate on ourselves and lose sight
Of the goal, our one chance in this mortal life
To make peace and love, to subdue any strife?

At the end, we’ll reflect on our words and our deeds.
And what will grow will be the results of the seeds
That we planted and tended during our brief time.
Will our legacies blossom, or will they wither and die?

I am guilty, convicted of the words that I write.
I want to love and live better, so that I might
Hand down to my children a me that they’ll see
Tried his best to provide for their spiritual needs.

Time, faith and love are the best things we give
Our legacies, our gifts, are the ways that we live.

Copyright 2008

A new poem

I played around with a new poem. What do you think? Is it too much? (PS -- while I wanted some funky spacing, I just can't seem to get the correct spacing on this blog post!)

On Writing

My arms are strong in the deep water
Shoulders stretched
Elbows bent down at right angles
Forearms circling like eggbeaters
Circling like eggbeaters
Legs kicking
Pushing me up

A breath
Between intermittent waves
A faraway shore
Success if I can make it

Waves carry me forward
Then pull me back
Forward
Then back

Progress is slow, tedious
But there is progress
And my arms and legs still move

At night
Black water sloshes against my cheeks
To sleep would be to die
To lose my strength to die
My arms give out
Give in
To the density of the waves
And the movement of the water

The movement of the water

The movement of the water

My legs, determined still to win the shore

At daybreak
Sun reflects off the sand,
Uncut diamonds for the picking
My goal is the shore
The faraway shore,
Respite from the fight,
The constant battle to breathe

The weight
Of the water
Against
My chest

More waves

Salt and sun bake my tears,
Tears that come with the loss of my legs
The faraway shore
Now invisible through crusted eyes
The smell of the shore is strong
And the water continues to move

Waves
More frequent now
Dip
And rise
Dip
And rise

Kelp glances off my wrinkled toes
The blisters on my eyelids
Don’t hurt as much
My strength’s absorbed by the water
So I float
On my back
Head first toward the shore

The smell of the shore is strong
And the water continues to move

At dusk
Sand bristles along my back
A crab clips at the base of my neck
Driftwood pounds my ear
My lips are blistered shut
I am blind

Yet the smell of the shore is strong
And the water continues to move me

out

to

sea

again

Copyright 2008

Back in the saddle

Well, I started writing the novel again. But I had to read through the whole thing first. And the fun thing about that is this: The last thing I had written is now the preface to the book. A section of text that would have been buried in the middle of the book fits quite well at the beginning. It was like the proverbial lightbulb came on. Sometimes I guess you just have to step away from something for awhile...

I also decided to break up my chapters. So, some of them are actually pretty short -- about two pages. Personally, I think it works great. I'm just making chapters wherever there's a natural scene change, or a change in tone. So, if you're following this blog -- and you're probably not -- keep your fingers crossed that I continue. I have renewed faith in this thing and I want to keep that passion alive.

Writer's Digest Links

My friend Angela on Wicked Wordsmith posted the link to the following Writer's Digest site. The link lists the 101 Best Websites for 2008. I haven't checked them all out, but I will.

Personal essays

I've recently been reading The Norton Book of Personal Essays. I recommend this book to anyone who is interested in essay writing and memoir. As you might know, my thesis centered on creative nonfiction, and the personal essay is something that I've been studying lately. Some of the selections in this book are very good. Favorites so far: Willa Cather's A Chance Meeting, F. Scott Fitzgerald's Sleeping and Waking, and H.L. Mencken's Reflections on Journalism.

Hard work pays off -- for two of us

Last week was a busy week. My son, Michael (age 5), and I both graduated from our respective programs. He will be moving on from preschool and will start kindergarten in the fall. I graduated with my MA in English-Creative Writing from Missouri State University and, for the moment, plan to simply enjoy the diminished amount of stress that comes with finishing the degree -- and that pesky thesis. What will I do with all of my free time? Maybe I'll be a dad and tinker with that novel. What do you think?

Here is a photo of the two graduates. Enjoy!

A great writer....and St. Louisan!!

Eddy L. Harris has written several memoirs. His first book, Mississippi Solo, is a tremendous adventure story about a man (Eddy) who travels the entire Mississippi river alone -- in a canoe. I've posted about Eddy before, but I found this interview with him that I thought was pretty well done. In the interview, he talks about Mississippi Solo and his approach to writing. (I won't bog this blog down with videos. It's just something new I've discovered.)

Joyce Carol Oates on writing characters

Where have I been? Thanks for asking...

I received an email from a wonderful friend of mine who said she actually reads this blog. I knew that there were a few of you out there, but I didn't know that you'd miss it -- even a little bit. So, here is my excuse for not updating for nearly two months: I have been finishing up my thesis. Yes, I finished it. Yes, it's now turned in to Missouri State University's Graduate College for review. Yes, I will graduate with a Masters in English-Creative Writing on May 16! Finally. Four years of pecking at this degree will finally yield fruit. What fruit? I have no clue. But hopefully it's something tasty.

With my thesis, I tried to couple my passion for journalism with my passion for creative writing, so the final product was a collection of three creative nonfiction pieces -- stories from my life that I hope people (at least those on my thesis committee) could maybe find somewhat thought-provoking. One piece is called "Spiritual Battle," and it examines my relationship with my idol, my grandfather and his reaction to my marriage announcement. (Grandpa, a devout Catholic, my godfather and confirmation sponsor, felt I was abandoning my religion by so readily agreeing to be married in another church.) Another is called "Hope for Change" and it reflects on my experience seeing an African man hanging from a tower in downtown Springfield. That day and that image have changed me. The third is called "Goat Lady" and is the "story behind the story" of an article I wrote when I was a working journalist.

I have been neck deep in this thesis for a year. I'm glad I did it, but I had some issues with the whole creative non-fiction thing. Here is an excerpt from my Introduction that might help you understand the "issues" that I faced:

I’ve heard and read that the freedom that comes with creative nonfiction is liberating. If liberation means that I can “play tennis without the net” then I would agree. But if liberation means turning the microscope on myself and revealing my opinions and criticisms to the world, then I’ve found that to be excruciating.

Journalists have the safety of providing the facts and letting their readers make up their own minds. With creative nonfiction, the author shares his subjective thoughts. That part was a challenge. However, I discovered it is easier for me to criticize myself than to criticize others. With this collection, I try to open up – I really do. I do my best to be intimate. I present the facts. I experiment with style and structure. But when it comes to criticizing others, I often find myself fading back into the shadows of “Here are the facts. You decide.”

Anyway, the clouds are lifting and I'm am re-energizing to pick up where I left off on the novel. It's a great story. I just hope I can tell it!