When is the last time you thought about poetry?

We went to a dinner last night with a poet who is from Duluth, Connie Wanek. Here's the biggest news- my husband willingly went AND he liked it. Of course, there was good food and a little wine so the wheels were greased, but this woman was so great. Understated and just able to nail things we all see hundreds of times, and yet she was the one to come up with the perfect words. It wasn't overwraught or so obscure that you felt lost. It was just...real. I can't say I am over the moon for poetry. Or more accurately, perhaps my personality just isn't suited for it. I spent some junior high years rhyming- one particular claim to fame occured in 7th grade when I changed the words to a then-famous and very classy country song, "Elvira" and wrote about Santa. Mrs. Raymond gave me rave reviews and this set off a flurry of overwraught and over-rhymed poems about my baby brother and flowers(gag!) and life(double-gag!). As per typical in my relationship with my hubby, I discovered that he can do most everything better than me. He is a renaissance man- cleaning, drawing, musical, and he wrote this in junior high:

Happiness is

the pitter patter of little feet

across our kitchen floor.

He has a younger sister by quite a few years and his junior high time had a baby in it. My brother was 8 years younger and I wrote:

My brother is a baby.

I like to hold him maybe.

Until he cries.

We all know understatement is not my strong suit so perhaps that's why I won't be a poet. I can live with that.

Check out this link for more. http://www.conniewanek.com/

Comments welcome!

Hey everyone! Just like the wife who storms around the house waiting for her husband to read her mind, I have been feeling a little out of sorts. The best approach in getting what you want (most times) is to simply ask for it. I am working on getting a counter put on my blog so I can find out how many hits I get. But, I would also love it if people could leave some comments. Any little thought you might have regarding any part of my blog would be great. If you are not a member of I Google, you can still leave comments by clicking at the bottom and selecting "anonymous" and signing your name. I then read the comment and publish it. I have had people tell me they are blog illiterate. They just don't get it, can't navigate them, etc. I am, too, and I certainly relate to that. So email me if it's easier: lisa.graybookshelf@gmail.com, or go ahead. Give it a try. I would like to hear from you. Following through Facebook is easy, too. I am hoping that my updates are reaching people that way as well.

Am I on the right path?

I am reading a book called The Home Made Life. What is great about this book is that it is by a woman who started a blog 5 years ago called Orangette and while she is still writing, it has morphed into a book. Her blog is centered around food and the stories that accompany her memories of food. Am I hoping for some morphage? Yes. I think so. But once again, I don't take myself too seriously and doubt that what I have to say could fill a book.

I had this interesting conversation with a good friend who has a young son with anxiety and Asperger's. Someone had passed on a book to her about someone in a similar situation. She wasn't getting much out of it. "Why?" is what I wanted to know.

"Well, it's the same shit, but a different home, a different kid, but it's all the same. She is living my life and I don't want to read about my life. I need to learn something new. There was nothing new for me."

I asked, "Isn't there comfort in knowing you are not alone?"

"Well, yes. But I know that already. I know that without reading a book. It won't change how difficult my child is or how long my days can be."

For some unknown reason this made me very sad. I want to believe that books can help people, and as teacher of writing, I have professed to so many students that we all have a story to tell and our stories matter. Now here was this friend, someone I consider an adopted sister, telling me that other people's stories don't help her. Now I know she wasn't dissing this entire idea. She was actually just speaking of personal preference. I've had this conversation with people in the store. If they want to read a book, they want to learn something new or go somewhere they have never been before.

Which gets me back to me and this writing thing and where I want to go with it. Honestly, I wouldn't pick up a book by a 42 year old white woman with 2 kids telling tales of her life. Unless she lived in say, France or Italy, while her husband was following some crazy passion. Or she was left destitute and had to find her way into the working world again and spent time sleeping in homeless shelters. There would have to be some hook that stood out. Which is where I think- I have no hook. I am as average as you can get. This is not a cry for encouragement. It's just me musing, me asking the questions I ask all the time. I am having fun. I feel guilty for that. With bills to pay and classes to take and mouths to feed, many people are NOT having fun right now. On that note, I think I will clean some toilets for a shot of reality.

P.S. Check out "The Dog Slept Fine"!