Writing News and Updates
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Since 2013 I've taken a moment every December to look back over the previous year and, instead of lamenting all I did not accomplish, enumerating what I did, primarily in the writing department, but also in other areas of my life. This year I felt like I spent a lot of time spinning my wheels. Let's see how it actually shook out!  Writing In 2025, my creativity group went through Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way, over the course of 12 months rather than the prescribed 12 weeks. Part of this program is to write "morning pages"--three pages written long hand every morning. Although I missed a fair number of days, and occasionally did not fill three whole pages, this practice resulted in my filling up six Decomposition Books (by contrast, in 2024 I filled four of the same notebooks), plus two small travel journals. Also, in an effort to be less precious about writing tools, I stopped buying refills for my favorite jell pen and instead tried to use up some of the several million ball-point pens cluttering up the house. The good news is that I used up a lot of them. The bad news is that my husband replaced them with ones brought home from work at least once a week. Whether any of this morning "brain dump" writing did me any good is still an open question. I did not have any major epiphanies, but I do often mine my old brain dumpings for essay material, so you never know... Aside from journal pages, I wrote:
 Travel & Adventure
Trips taken in 2025:
I recently read the advice to "local like a traveler" (an inverse of the "travel as a local" philosophy), and this is something I want to intentionally put into practice, although I think I did a pretty good job making the most of local cultural opportunities and attractions, in addition to taking a few trips. I didn't set out to visit two museums (or museum-like places) a month, like I did in 2024, but I still managed to visit 21 museums, some of them more than once, which averages out to about two a month:
I also saw four plays and a ballet at local theaters. I went on a few local hikes (and did one volunteer trail maintenance day on the trail nearest me) and paddled a few nearby ponds. Arts & Crafts
Overall, some things I want to keep doing--traveling, making art, visiting museums--and some things I want to concentrate on doing a lot more of--writing, submitting (and publishing), hiking, kayaking--in 2026. NATIONAL DES BEAUX-ARTS DU QUÉBEC
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 I started last month by reading the last book* in Elizabeth Peters's Amelia Peabody series, The Tomb of the Golden Bird. After that delightful romp through Egyptology, I turned my attention to attacking my TBR pile, which had once again grown out of hand, starting with several books I'd begun reading over recent months but had set aside for various reasons (mainly because my attention had been diverted by rereading Peters).
When I saw a series of capers by Peter Mayle at a used book sale, I was reminded of the summer before I went to college, when my best friend's mother loaned me Mayle's A Year in Provence. Perhaps she thought it would make me more worldly, or inspire me to move to France, but it did neither, since I never cracked the cover and returned it to her unread, but much battered from riding around in my tote bag all summer. I do love a good caper, however, so I gave the first in the series, The Vintage Caper, a go. Now, the term caper refers to the way the action in these stories (which often center around a heist) resembles a goat scampering around with no apparent purpose or direction. I'd say the action in this book was a little less goat-like and more like a languorous house cat, lying in the sun and talking about wine and food and the difference between Marseilles and Paris, a lot. I started reading Strangers on the Train by Patricia Highsmith a year or so ago, after I picked up a book of hers on the craft of writing suspense. I figured I should be familiar with her writing before I take her advice. She does suspense very well. So well that I had to set the book aside for a year to calm my nerves. It was just too stressful waiting for what you inevitably know will happen (that the protagonist will be driven to commit a murder). It's a brilliantly written book (although to be honest I'm not sure I'd have handled the ending the way she did), but I don't think I want that level of anxiety from the books I read. I'm not sure why I picked up Roddy Doyle's Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha from the used bookstore a couple of years ago. It's an older book---1993 Booker Prize winner--about a 10-year-old boy growing up in an Irish village in the 1960s, written from the boy's perspective in an engaging, nonlinear fashion. The cover says something about it being a comic novel, and while many of the incidents, and the way the child sees the world, are humorous, it is ultimately really sad. For Father's Day, I sent my dad The Book of Flaco by David Gessner, about the Eurasian Eagle Owl that escaped the zoo in Central Park and lived "wild" in New York City for a year, and he sent it back to me after he read it. It's an interesting meditation on freedom and wildness, versus captivity and peril, as well as human interactions with birds in general and this bird in particular, and each other. Interestingly, Gessner never saw the owl in person, but writes the whole book from the perspective of after (spoiler alert) Flaco's death, relying on interviews with the most involved humans on his beat. Laura Jackson was an editor at Literary Mama for part of the time I was there also, and she and I were in a remote nature writing critique group for a couple of years. I always enjoyed her wry humor and enthusiasm for the less-loved elements of nature (I recall an endearing essay about earwigs). So I was thrilled when her first book, Deep and Wild: On Mountains, Opossums, and Finding Your Way in West Virginia, came out earlier this year. Whether you've spent time in WV (I think I nipped through a corner of it on a road trip between Georgia and Western Pennsylvania) or you only know the state from less-than-flattering television and movie portrayals, this book will open your eyes to the land's beauty and richness and make you want to pack up the car, buy some dramamine, and hit the country roads. It will also make you laugh. And we need a lot of that these days. Finally, my sister passed on her copy of Blood, Sweat, Tears, a collection of women's writing on the outdoors (mainly hiking and trail running). There were some really lovely and moving pieces of writing here, and also several that made me worry about women today---there seems to be a drive among a lot of them to punish themselves through grueling outdoor pursuits, not just pushing personal limits and challenging oneself, but depriving one's own body of food and water while causing injury. It seems almost like another variation on diets, eating disorders, plastic surgery, and other ways women contort and harm themselves in order to conform to impossible standards and/or to take up less space. It makes my heart hurt to read about. |
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Andrea E. Lani. All rights reserved. |
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