A bike ride through the emptiness of Vondelpark on a stormy day A stiff breeze sweeping sleet and rain in my face The cold sting cooling my brain A sore burn reminding my hamstrings of a killer workout A stork gracefully stepping through the grass Spring blossom unperturbed by the night’s frost Being grounded by the heavenly needles of my acupuncturist and dear friend Sandra Light fooling the eye into believing the lucent snowdrop is white The fluffy tail of a dog waving defiant and high Eating a bar of Hands Off Double Dark chocolate because I got wet twice Having a drink with my pal Laura The prospect of introducing one-year-old Tommy to Chagall Working the line edits of my middle grade adventure novel The art on my desk Listening for the quietest sound (the…
Mina Witteman – author | editor | teacher of creative writing
Posts from the “Books” Category
My previous post – Dark Musings – turned out to be a tad unsettling for a few readers. Let me take the edge off: it’s about my protagonist. Not about me. Even if I have a penchant for the dark. I do will myself to skate very close to the memories of my time in the abyss that is so euphemistically named depression. I force that upon myself to make sure that the emotions in my new YA novel ring true to the reader. It’s a hard topic that I touch upon in this story and it needs to come from the heart. My heart. I can do that because, as a former hockey goalie, I know how to take a blow. When those memories and life throw me…
bad guys close in on her they crawl under her skin fill her mind with filth rob her soul of worth not one ray of sunshine is left to show herself how to stand and find the light that is hidden by night’s bleakest hour in that black while before the dawn their vile words tear at her heart break her force her to her knees and leave her with nothing but the cruelest spurning of her self with no choice but to capitulate to the dark
Tagged: #amwriting, 15 beats, Blake Snyder, dark, no sense of self, Poem, Protagonist, Save the Cat
I lost my writing north like a compass with an old needle that lost its north-seeking ability. Now, you can do two things if that happens: you can throw out the compass – which would equal giving up on the writing dream – or you can fix the damn needle. What did I do? I’m not ready to give up on any dream. I went out to find me some lodestone and re-magnetize the needle. How? Usually, a writing prompt – or a few prompts if I slid down the slope too far – from one of my beloved Writing Maps will get the writing juices flowing again. This time I went on a Writing Safari with my best friend, author and creative writing coach Sieneke de…
Tagged: compass, Dolle Mina, feminism, hot pants, Lodestone, Mad Mina, North, Sieneke de Rooij, Sixties, Tropenmuseum, Writing Maps, writing prompt
I plowed through the tons of letters and invoices that gathered on my desk while I was away, I’ve done the laundry, I reconnected with my workout buddies Toni, Maria, Astarti and Anna. I sniffed up Amsterdam air. I plunged into a swarm of tourists diddling around outside my house. I bought tickets for the new Chagall exhibition. I witnessed a beautiful sunset from my fourth floor window. The good news is I haven’t forgotten how to ride my bike. The bad news is that I seem to have forgotten how to write, as if my compass lost its north. I’ve written one word for my new project since I’m back at my desk: ‘It’. And then it all stopped, as if someone had…
Tagged: #amwriting, compass, Elvis Costello, muse, North, poetry, Someone took the words away
I was on the road for 45 days and what did it bring me, this Gone Writing trip? An almost finished manuscript and a new level of understanding of my writer’s brain and how it works (and how and when it doesn’t work). Gone Writing brought me change. I think Maurizio Nannucci’s Neon tubes nails it:
After 45 days on the road, it’s time to go home and last night’s show was the perfect ending to this road trip. Fiddler on the Roof is all about love and loss, just like my journey was rediscovery of the power of love and loss. A rediscovery that I could pour into the story I’m working on. I didn’t have to wait long before I realized that Fiddler on the Roof perfectly illustrated what writing means to me, Tevye’s first lines were enough. I’ve adapted them slightly here to show you (and I hope Joseph Stein will forgive me for changing his words): “A writer on the roof. Sounds crazy, no? But here, in our little village of Fiction, you might say every…
Tagged: #amwriting, Fiction, Fiddler on the Roof, Joseph Stein, muse, stories, Tevye, writing
Mina Witteman 