Hope

So I go to the "Get Motivated" Seminar today at the Times Union Center with a group of colleagues. The big arena, lots of motivational speakers, heavy sales pitch for investment seminars and book deals sandwiched between musical interludes provided by former Santana vocalist Leon Thomas. Oh, and the MC for the day was an overly perky blond in a tight skirt complete with cheerleader-like screams. Steve Forbes was OK, but his talk was a rehash of his failed presidential platform. Tamara Lowe, the founder of the company that put on this elaborate charade, capped off the morning with a blend of psycho-babble about motivation, confessional about her dropout, drug addicted past, and, yes, a rap about how she had found Jesus Christ. It really set the tone for lunch.

There was one speaker, though, that managed to tie together a string of motivational quotes. Ironically, I can't remember his name. He quoted the psychologist Alfred Adler when he said:

Hope is the foundational quality of change.

I like this quote. It speaks a lot to the nature of a character I'm writing, a character who is filled with hope. But it's good for me, too, and those I know. Change will come, riding on the back of hope. I will be there to welcome it, for good or bad.

Cole Summer Writers Institute 2009

I love summer. The sun, the surf, the Cole Summer Writers Institute. It's all good.

For four years now I have been running a summer workshop for adolescent writers based out of my school. This year I have eight kids, although in years past I've had as many as fifteen (and as few as five), and they are wonderful! So creative, so energetic; they get me thinking again about writing (thank God!). It has been so long since I actually thought about writing- I'm not even talking about a full blown story here; I'm talking about a sketch or paragraph or a few sundry lines of prose- and each time I do rekindle the desire it feels like prying open a window that has been painted shut. It's scary, in some ways, to think about pulling up the tightly shut sills of my creativity, though, because I know how savage the rush of desire to write will be once I open the window. Yeah, I know, melodramatic, but not untrue. TO put it prosaically, I'll be torn to write and to ignore all other things. Which I would do.

So much for vacuuming and cutting the lawn.

But I have to accept the need to write because it's a part of me. I have to write when the calling comes and I can safely do it (read this part as the disclaimer that says I won't lose my job because I shirked my responsibilities it lieu of writing). And that is ultimately the struggle, to write when you can for as long as you can and damn the consequences. Sacrifice. Risk. Summer sun. Summer writing. It's all good again.