Tag Archives: Nandy Ekle

The Grail

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POST CARDS FROM THE MUSE

The Grail

By Nandy Ekle

I found it on line, filled out the order form and typed in my payment information. Then I sat back and waited. I didn’t have to wait long. It came in the mail this week; I was so excited and couldn’t wait to get home from work and open my package. And I was not disappointed.

Of course, it’s nothing more than a plain, simple coffee cup. It has the name of my favorite author printed around the cup and a print of his signature. That’s all it is. But to me, it might as well be the Holy Grail. It looks really cool in my hands, the coffee tastes better, and suddenly my words flow much better.

There is an old story about a child who wants to learn to do something, but they have no self-confidence. They are given some little trinket and told that it has magic powers and they are immediately able to do the thing they want to do and believe it’s because of the magical object they hold. Then, in the middle of a very intense moment, they lose their magical possession, but are able to continue what they’re doing.

The intelligent side of my brain knows this story and laughs at the creative side for believing it. But I guarantee that since receiving my new cup in the mail, I have been able to write again.

Sometimes we just have to do whatever it takes to get the words on the paper.

Congratulations. You have just received a post card from the muse.

 

The Puzzle

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POST CARDS FROM THE MUSE

The Puzzle

 By Nandy Ekle

I took a walk through my hall of unfinished stories. My hand brushed along the half filled pages, fingertips touching each and every one. As I passed by a lonely little three-page rag, I noticed a sparkle from its eye. So I picked it up and read its words.

Three pages, around 1000 words. My character spoke so loudly I was mesmerized. I felt her loneliness and her growing neurosis. I could see her problem clearly. Goosebumps the size of watermelons grew on my arms and my scalp tingled. Then, at the bottom of page three, the whole thing came to an abrupt stop in the middle of a paragraph.

It’s been about a year since I wrote those three pages and several other stories have channeled themselves through me. I looked at the blank space at the bottom of the page and felt lost. Where was this going? What was my aim? The girl had shown me her problem, but the reason for the problem was gone, along with the ultimate outcome.

But I can’t scrap it. And so I will put on Doctor Freud’s hat and figure out the rest of the story. Number one – she definitely has a problem brewing. And I think I can see exactly what it is. Number two – why is this a problem? Well, because there’s something she wants. I need to remember what her greatest wish is. Number three – what will this desire cost her? Hhhmmm. A little trickier. I need to know her a little better to remember the things most important to her. Reading what I have a few more times will help me with that. Number four – can she achieve what she wants, and if she does, is it really what’s best for her?

As you can see, my work is cut out for me. My muse stands in the corner of my writing space staring at me like a stern math teacher waiting for me to work the equation and get the right answer. However I think I have enough to go on with my three pages, and maybe a few hints from my silent muse.

Congratulatios. You have just received a post card from the muse.

Longfellow and Christmas Bells

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Longfellow and Christmas Bells

by Natalie Bright

 

A ‘spark’ for writers is the moment an idea is ignited in our mind. The actual words may appear that very moment as notes on a restaurant napkin, or it may be months from now. I have spark notes written on and in everything. Sticky notes, an essential tool for writers, completely cover the wall next to my desk. One statement my son made became the basis for an article published in a magazine over a year later. You just never know what those spark might become.

Where Are the Sparks?

Ideas are everywhere (check out Postcards from the Muse segments by Nandy Ekle right here on WordsmithSix Blog).

Writers find sparks in overheard conversations or by reading others written words. Pictures or art can conjure up a story idea. More often than not sparks come from a writers life experiences. Good or bad, joyous or devastating; emotions evolve into wonderful prose.

As I writer, I’m always fascinated with the history behind the spark and the environment that influences that writer’s words.

Longfellow’s Sorrow

In the case of Christmas Bells, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote the words to his poem on December 25, 1864.  The music and words are lifting and it’s always been one of my favorites, bringing to mind joyous holidays past spent with my favorite grandmother.

The words actually came from a very distraught Longfellow.

Precious Fanny Longfellow

Just three years earlier, his wife Fanny had wanted to preserve her daughter’s hair clippings in wax.  In a tragic turn of events, hot candle wax dripped onto Fanny’s dress, igniting it in flames. She ran into her husband’s study, where Henry tried to extinguish the blaze with a rug. He experienced severe burns to his face, arms, and hands. How they both must have suffered through that long night, only to have Fanny Longfellow die the next morning. Henry was much too ill to attend her funeral.

“A merry Christmas’ say the children, but that is no more for me.” reads Longfellows’ journal entry for December 25, 1862.

Tragedy struck the family again in 1863 when his oldest son Charles, who was only 19 at the time, suffered a severe wound as a lieutenant in the Army of the Potomac. Charles had left without his father’s blessing, joining the Union cause in March of that same year.

Continuing On

The Christmas season of 1864 must have been a dreadful time for Longfellow, as he carried on to care for their remaining small children, Ernest, Alice, Edith and Allegra. The Civil War was raging, skirmishes had continued throughout the country as they were still months away from Lee’s surrender to Grant at Appomattox, and Abraham Lincoln had just been re-elected.

From the depths of his soul he wrote “Christmas Bells”, what some believe to be a pacifist poem roused by his grief upon hearing about his son. It was first published in 1865 in a juvenile magazine.

In 1872, five stanzas were rearranged by John Baptiste Calkin and put to the tune “Waltham”. Two stanzas referencing the war were omitted, and the poem became the beloved carol “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day”

  1. I heard the bells on Christmas day
    Their old familiar carols play;
    And wild and sweet their tones repeat,
    “There’s peace on earth, good will to men.”
  2. And thought how, as the day had come,
    The belfries of all Christendom
    Had rolled along th’ unbroken song
    Of peace on earth, good will to men.
  3. Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
    “God is not dead, nor does He sleep,
    For Christ is here; His Spirit near
    Brings peace on earth, good will to men.”
  4. When men repent and turn from sin
    The Prince of Peace then enters in,
    And grace imparts within their hearts
    His peace on earth, good will to men.
  5. O souls amid earth’s busy strife,
    The Word of God is light and life;
    Oh, hear His voice, make Him your choice,
    Hail peace on earth, good will to men.
  6. Then happy, singing on your way,
    Your world will change from night to day;
    Your heart will feel the message real,
    Of peace on earth, good will to men.

WORDS

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WORDS

by Sharon Stevens

“If we want their attention to tell them stories,we need to shout something riveting in the first few words.” – Nandy Ekle

Post Cards From the Muse – Wordsmith Six Blog


When I read Nandy’s blog regarding “underwear” I was instantly jolted back in time to a memory that jogged my heart.

When our daughter, Andrea, was attending WTAMU she worked part time at In His Hands Preschool at the United Methodist Church in Canyon. Her group was studying the alphabet and each day was devoted to a different letter. One day the class read U and the accompanying image had to do with underwear. Of course the kids hooted and snickered. They didn’t know why, they just knew it was funny.

I have no idea what the symbol for V was the next day, but I remember quite clearly that the letter for W represented Washington…George to be exact. The kids didn’t really care as much for this visualization as they did the underwear until Andrea connected it locally. She asked them if they knew what color George Washington’s hair was. Of course they all thought it was white, representing his age as well as the powdered wigs they saw in the picture books. Andrea informed them that the actual color of his hair was closer to a strawberry red and she could prove it.

Our daughter had been volunteering as a Girl Scout at the Panhandle Plains Historical Museum for several years. She knew that the archives housed a lock of George Washington’s hair along with a letter of authenticity and also the provenance.

Andrea arranged with the preschool and the museum for a field trip to check out not only this, but some of the other treasures housed there. I don’t know how many kids remember this almost twenty years later, but doubtless there are some who can connect the trip to the museum to Washington himself.

Andrea has led hundreds of tours in her teaching career since then. Just like any other teacher she loves to recall bits and pieces of those who have touched her life, brightened her heart, and strengthened her path. And with her years in Girl Scouts she has become creative in using any item as a teaching tool.

We again used the story of Washington’s lock of hair when Andrea asked us, her parents, to come speak to her class at Stipes Elementary in Irving Texas as part of her Flat Stanley project. (She is now at the Sally Elliot Elementary School). After years of volunteering at the Panhandle Plains Historical Museum we knew the history of our area and loved to share our heritage. My husband and I were in our costumes from the 1890’s and encouraged to talk about pioneer life in the panhandle of Texas.

To our delight several other classes came to hear us speak, and it was wonderful to have input from Margie Stipes. We learned from her the true meaning of a “Baptist Pallet.” Stipes Elementary was named after Margie and John Stipes. They were both long standing members of the school board and influential in supporting teachers and schools.

But back to our visit…that year celebrated the 275th year of Washington’s birth, and I presented Mrs. Stipes and principal Marty French a George Washington dollar coin along with the story from the museum about his lock of hair and a picture of Flat Stanley showing it off.

This past Monday we celebrated Presidents Day commemorating the birthdays of Abraham Lincoln and George Washington. When this holiday rolls around every year I remember the time that our daughter who was going to college to become a teacher arranged a field trip of young children to visit our local museum to see a lock of history.

Andrea was able to take a letter of the alphabet and give it meaning and make it tangible. She made it just as real for the kids as the image of the U in underwear. Like every teacher from time immemorial she helped those students to take this symbol and make a word, and then connect it to an idea, and turn it into a story.

Isn’t this what we as writers try to do?

Several years ago I found a quote from George Washington on the back of a medal presented from the Freedom Foundation of Valley Forge that I think says it all.

“Impress on the mind of every man from the first to the lowest…the importance of the cause and what it is they are contending for.”

Sharon Stevens