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Writing Conference, Ashland, Oregon


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Midge Raymond’s Weekly Prompts

Midge Raymond posts weekly writing prompts at her blog.

Here’s an example:

Write about smoke.

Think broadly, as always — this can be any type of smoke at all, whether from a cigarette or a forest fire or a chimney in winter.

 

Her blog also features interviews, links and writing tips.

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There isn’t anything in the world but mad love.~ Mary Oliver

love writing in the sandThere isn’t anything in this world but mad love. Not in this world. No tame love, calm love, mild love, no so-so love. And of course, no reasonable love. Also there are a hundred paths through the world that are easier than loving. But, who wants easier? We dream of love, we moon about it, thinking of Romeo and Juliet, or Tristan, or the lost queen rushing away over the Irish sea, all doom and splendor. Today, on the beach, an old man was sitting in the sun. I called out to him, and he turned. His face was like an empty pot. I remember his tall, pale wife; she died long ago. I remember his daughter-in-law. When she died, hard, and too young, he wept in the streets. He picked up pieces of wood, and stones, and anything else that was there, and threw them at the sea. Oh, how he loved his wife. Oh, how he loved young Barbara. I stood in front of him, not expecting any answer yet not wanting to pass without some greeting. But his face had gone back to whatever he was dreaming. Something touched me lightly, like a knife-blade. I felt I was bleeding, though just a little, a hint. Inside I flared hot, then cold. I thought of you. Whom I love madly.”
~ Mary Oliver,  March, in White Pine


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Robert Arellano in 1859oregonmagazine.com

Check out Robert Arellano’s interview in 1859oregonmagazine.com
Here’s an excerpt:
Tell us about your creative process.

I get up at 3 a.m. and sit down to write at a window looking out on the lights of Medford burning in the night. I dim the screen in the dark and type like my life depends on it against the approaching dawn, the mercury-vapor lamps on 99 gradually cooling to embers. Shouldering her way back into the picture, Roxy Ann slowly takes shape, looming black against a coal-grey Rogue Valley sky. An airplane rises straight out of MFR, over the house, and out of sight, and suddenly boom! the lightburst of a Siskiyou sunrise. Sometimes, I’ll find a quiet hour to write at one of my favorite watering holes like Omar’s in Ashland. Sitting alone in the corner with his laptop, I’m the guy you look over at and say, “Now there’s a literary fellow. He’s probably writing a book. Hope he doesn’t put me in it.”

RobertArellano


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tree roots 1“Fiction writers, though they spin stories, are really in the business of getting at the truth. Not a single, final, absolute truth, but rather the multiple and varied truths of how we live, what shapes our lives. Good fiction reveals worlds previously unknown, or sheds new light on the familiar.” ~ Kim Edwards