Mina Witteman – author | editor | teacher of creative writing

Posts from the “Books” Category

Paname’s Inspiration

Posted on April 11, 2016

  a terminus spews travelers out into the city’s streets i jump a line and fly the five to where le nuit debout resides, encircled by black uzis from my camp four stories high i count the stairs and steps to anselm kiefer’s looming lines that suck me in and spin my brain through barren scenes of leaden books, burned and black, that dot a paint-encrusted field of snow paul celan recites his strophes the muse climbs up me silently i am alone and wonder if my words shall survive the summer  

A Poet Left Us

Posted on April 6, 2016

once again a poet stopped his world and euphemism colors the word that tripped him curbed him urged him as if it was a mere dent in his landscape a hollow of his skin as if his breath was temporarily held by a lower pressure in his atmosphere the fingers of mourners and judges point in solace at this genteelism of the unimaginative of those who never felt the draw of the black nothingness that sucks you in and spins its deadly threads around your brain tells you tomorrow is no option the future is not yours to have    

The End

Posted on March 26, 2016

an elm tree stands oblivious of the misery in my witless brain its bark rutted with waterfalls of moss and mould that suck up sap buds the color of crimson crowd its branches festering wounds ready to burst a swift breeze whips quicksilver over chocolate water eyes that mock and flee similitudes of the words that mock and flee my pen before I can ink them in a line a boat floats by fingers point sunglasses stare up cameras snap as if they can capture the illusive muse and me in an embrace of body and mind a display of fire that feeds me the final scenes and carries me to the climax of a novel that gutted my soul  

Breathe Alone

Posted on March 21, 2016

the untimely severance of life’s cord between a mother and her child throws worlds into black holes it spins a screen of unseen pain the powerless want to turn back what’s done taints days and nights exhausts the brain, the body for you cannot change the fabric of what is already woven you can love and hold and trust the hands of others like a writer has no other option but to love and hold and trust the hands of others when life’s events cut the cord between him and his story before the words can breathe alone  

To Be or Not To Be?

Posted on March 17, 2016

There’s some Shakespeare in the novel I’m working on. I’ve mentioned it before. Hamlet, to be precise. He pops up in the more troubling scenes and every now and again the bard and his word play throw me off course and make me loose track of what I want with this story (well, not entirely, just a little).   In any case, I needed a bit of guidance and I needed it quick – I have my crit buddies pounding on my door. What better solution to force a breakthrough than to meet up with one of the bard’s greatest interpreters, the playwright George Isherwood. We had a riveting conversation about death, which is a big thing in the story, and about life. Equally big in the story, I…

Sunday Morning Musings

Posted on March 13, 2016

the cold room paints my feet blue a silent luminescence colors water in the softest greens a bird cries high and sharpens the morning glow wakens my brain i draft new lines the first in a sunday morning spree of words i carry myself back to the organ let waves wash over me darkness covers my characters casts light on my pen illuminates the pictures in my mind i watch the twinkling across the bay the muse drifts by provokes images visions too fevered to write i loose myself in the muse’s arms for a while and when i wake i find myself alone on a path to a predawn nowhere      

Line Edits and Inspirational Friends

Posted on March 4, 2016

Not much brain space for anything else while doing the line edits for the second book in the Boreas series. Boreas en de duizend eilanden (Boreas and the Thousand Islands) is scheduled to come out mid-April and I am really excited about that. Working hard now to have the manuscript back on my editor’s desk by Monday morning. I’m good with deadlines, they spur me on and keep me away from procrastination. And my editor Marlous is the coolest in the world. I love shaping and polishing my books with her.   Rereading the manuscript brings back many memories of good times on the water, too. Sailing, snorkeling, and in general just hanging out with people who also love the water. Like my super cool friend Kirsten…