So love your words about the meadow, the fallow field, and most of all, your instructions for making your fortune on Substack, into which I settled with such delight that I've read it at least five times. Reminiscent of Neil Gaiman's poem Instructions, it tickles me even more for the presence of the Cailleach, the reminder to fill your bottle with water and to carry good hard cheese.
Also, the reminder that the last six hundred miles will take whatever time they take.
I actually saw it as a children's book--insofar as it is for more ages than some of his work as it speaks to me as much as any child who might need such instructions if they happen to find themselves in a fairy tale. There is also a YouTube video of him reading it aloud.
So heartening, this piece of late night almost completely 'automatic writing' has resonated with so many. This makes me happy, as it may indicate that the instrumentalist mindset of the machine and its heartless precision-tooled trajectory are not for everyone. May we all continue to clump warmly in convivial corners.
"To anyone praying for one side’s victory and dominion over another, rather than that all souls can live in dignity and safety, whoever they are, then I hate to be the one to tell you this, but that’s not God you’re praying to." Oh YES! Thank you.
I have always envied a friend of mine from high schools because her middle name was Meadows and I just thought this was one of the loveliest words in the English language. Meadow. ‘Round here it’s the prairie and the taproots go unbelievably deep. There’s a mural at the our local natural history museum that allows you to stand next to what’s going on underneath the goldenrod, mullein, trefoil, larkspur. I feel like a dwarf. Brilliant.
Thanks for the luminous words…going to let them churn anaerobically for a while…
Ribwort of the narrow kind, edges, good for poems, refugia, debts to forgiveness. Smile.
Such good medicine, thank you Caro!
So love your words about the meadow, the fallow field, and most of all, your instructions for making your fortune on Substack, into which I settled with such delight that I've read it at least five times. Reminiscent of Neil Gaiman's poem Instructions, it tickles me even more for the presence of the Cailleach, the reminder to fill your bottle with water and to carry good hard cheese.
Also, the reminder that the last six hundred miles will take whatever time they take.
I used to read Neil Gaiman's books but don't know that poem, I'll look it up after my meeting today. One must have treats lined up...
I actually saw it as a children's book--insofar as it is for more ages than some of his work as it speaks to me as much as any child who might need such instructions if they happen to find themselves in a fairy tale. There is also a YouTube video of him reading it aloud.
best writing advice on Substack, bar none. thanks for sharing this!
My pleasure RG.
So heartening, this piece of late night almost completely 'automatic writing' has resonated with so many. This makes me happy, as it may indicate that the instrumentalist mindset of the machine and its heartless precision-tooled trajectory are not for everyone. May we all continue to clump warmly in convivial corners.
hooray for automatic writing and clumping warmly in convivial corners! we definitely need more of both. you're doing great work keeping the lamps lit.
"To anyone praying for one side’s victory and dominion over another, rather than that all souls can live in dignity and safety, whoever they are, then I hate to be the one to tell you this, but that’s not God you’re praying to." Oh YES! Thank you.
I have always envied a friend of mine from high schools because her middle name was Meadows and I just thought this was one of the loveliest words in the English language. Meadow. ‘Round here it’s the prairie and the taproots go unbelievably deep. There’s a mural at the our local natural history museum that allows you to stand next to what’s going on underneath the goldenrod, mullein, trefoil, larkspur. I feel like a dwarf. Brilliant.
Thanks for the luminous words…going to let them churn anaerobically for a while…
'Churn anaerobically'. Love that. It should be some kind of new version of actors' 'break a leg!' But for writers.