Mina Witteman – author | editor | teacher of creative writing

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

 

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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 Carlson, amazing artist, author and marine biologist.

We met during my latest ‘water’ trip and I came back home with a million cool ideas to work into the next Boreas book, but also with renewed energy about this whole writing business that can sometimes bog you down, as if you’re plodding through quicksand rather than crystal clear waters. A trip to a sandbar with Kirsten is the perfect remedy.

 

Check out Kirsten’s gorgeous art and writing on her website or follow her on Twitter and let her imagination inspire you to write and draw!

 

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What Else Makes Me Happy?

Posted on March 2, 2016

  • 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 patter of raindrops on the ledge)
  • Knowing that the book birth of Boreas en de duizend eilanden is only a month and a half away

 

What makes you happy?

 

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Art on my desk

Finding Sunshine in the Dark

Posted on March 1, 2016

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 curve balls, I don’t dodge. I stand up and block the shot, knowing that the protection I have build up around me will keep me safe. Knowing that my core is solid and the shutout is mine.

 

To counterbalance this writing darkness, I surround myself with good things. My family, my friends, my muse. Art. Traveling. Writing middle grade adventures about sailing.

All that brings me sunshine in the dark.

 

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Dark Musings

Posted on February 24, 2016

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

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Finding the Words Again

Posted on February 21, 2016

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 Rooij.

Sieneke took me to the Sixties Exhibition at the Amsterdam Tropenmuseum. She had some excellent writing exercises prepared, like writing a dialogue between my (mother’s) favorite sixties article of clothing and one of the exhibited items.

That was fun.

First of all because it brought back memories of my mother, who, devoid of any shame or consideration for the more prudish part of the village, would prance around in hot pants and six-inch heels (her long-legged gorgeous self could totally pull that off) causing a flurry of disapproving looks from the villagers and alternating bouts of embarrassment and pride with me. I strongly believe that’s how she planted the seed of hard-core feminism in me.

 

And secondly: I wasn’t even five lines into that dialogue or inspiration spun north, east, south and west. I grabbed my current project’s notebook and scribbled away. Four pages. One solid scene.

 

So, if you lost your writing north… go find that lodestone and re-magnetize yourself right back to it.

 

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My nickname ‘Dolle Mina‘ (Mad Mina)

Lost My North

Posted on February 19, 2016

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 syphoned off the words, leaving me with nothing but blank space in my brain.

I’m pretty good at beating myself up about stuff like that, words that won’t come, ideas that won’t hatch, scenes that won’t unfold, but this time I’ve decided to hand the whip over to the muse. He can beat me up as much as he wants, I’m going to sit back and relax, read a book and write some random snippets of poetry and flash fiction as to not let my brain think it has succeeded in defeating me.

I will patiently wait for the words to return. They will. I’m confident.

 

Elvis Costello’s ‘Someone took the words away’ on his album North best illustrates this tongue-tied (finger-tied? brain-tied?) feeling I’m experiencing.