Date a Girl Who Writes

A while ago, I posted Date a Girl Who Reads which  is a splendid piece of the values of reading. After being tipped off to this essay, and reading it, I had to share it with you as well.

Date A Girl Who Writes by Effie Sapuridis

Date a girl who writes. Date a girl who admires the calligraphy of Ancient China more than the latest fall line. She has ink smudges on her fingers, sometimes on her cheeks. Date a girl who comes with a list of unfinished poems, underdeveloped characters, incomplete plot lines, who has been writing since she could read.

Find a girl who writes. Look for the girl with frazzled hair and a pen behind her ear. She’s the one who spends hours deciding which new notebook to buy, only to cave and buy three, the one who rarely makes a grammatical error. If you were to search her bag, you’d find scraps of paper with incomprehensible notes and pens whose lives have ended a long time ago. That’s the writer.walkingaway1

The girl who writes can be seen anywhere, if you look for her. The girl who writes is always looking at you, and anyone else. She knows inspiration can be found in everything. She’s the girl you’ll find on a park bench, pen behind her ear, another in her hand, jotting down things with great, great concentration, just because coffee shops are loud. She will however be carrying coffee in a travel mug. If you looked inside the mug, you’d notice the coffee was finished – the girl who writes needs caffeine like water. Bum a cigarette off her. Notice her eyes give you a full appraisal before she hands you a cigarette. She’s profiling you.

Say something.

Don’t ever start by asking to see her writing.

Tell her something you’re sure she never knew before. A random fact, even. This will grab her attention. This will make her think, ‘what kind of plot twist is the stranger offering to the protagonist?’ When she brings up e.e. Cummings and Plath, don’t act like you know who they are if you don’t. She will test you. Ask her about them. Ask her about her favorites. Ask her if she’d like to go see a movie with you.

Always surprise her.

In reality, it’s not that difficult to date a girl who writes. Accept that she will not show you anything she’s written until she’s ready. Understand that sometimes her stories aren’t developing the way she wants and she will be angry, bitter. Be patient, be jealous of her love for worlds you can’t even begin to enter. Buy her new books, new pens, new notebooks. Surround her with words. Dedicate songs to her. Leave little notes in her lunch bag. Words, for the writer, are more intimate and personal than a sensual touch. She hears their whispers, feels them, embraces them.

If one day, you walk into the house, and she’s in a foul mood. There are pages scattered everywhere. She’s watching TV, which she never does. Don’t ask. The words got the best of her. They put up a wall and as much as she pleaded, as much as she paced, drank coffee, took a bath, went for a walk, pace some more, as much as she played with synonyms and antonyms, made comparisons, expanded the plotline then brought it back to where it was, she could not get through the block. Don’t bother comforting her. Buy paint and a canvas, let her attack it. Carry her to the bed and let her attack you. The girl who writes does not need soothing and comfort, she needs an outlet to rid herself of the overbearing emotions that are sadness or anger. Before she can write again.

The girl who writes knows exactly when a break is needed in a story. The girl who writes expects a climax. But the girl who writes is also almost never in control of her story. The characters dictate to her what they would like to do next. The story is as thrilling for her, the writer, as it is for her close sister, the reader. She relishes in these surprises, in these sharp turns, in these unforgiving assessments. She dreams of the day when her story, her life story, will be as classic as Poe or as tormented as Brite. This day that she waits for, this will be the day her story will begin.

On the day when she timidly, a deep blush rising on her cheeks, extends a bundle of loose sheets of paper, some old, some new, towards you, you’ll know you’ve successfully captured the heart of the girl who writes. Read everything she has given you, unless she stops you. Recognize, and tell her, about the beauty of her words, the conviction of her prose, the pain behind her poetry. Don’t look at her with pity when she hands you a poem about a broken heart – following it, you’ll read one about you and how maybe her heart was not so broken after all. In any case, the girl who writes does not accept pity. She is the amazon goddess of the writing world. She is the soldier, the fighter, the good guy. She is stronger than a house of bricks and her writing keeps her demons in place, holding them down and releasing her.

Date a girl who writes because she will change your world. She will bring color into your grays. When you propose, she will have known for months that it was coming. She could read your body language from miles away. She will say the simplest phrase you have ever heard her say – yes, I do – and then she will begin to carefully craft the story of your lives. Through ups and downs and births and deaths, through funny family moments and trips to unknown places (in search of new inspiration), through misadventures and inky cheeks, through everything, anything, and all that is not yet written, the girl who writes will be the doe-eyed, love-struck narrator of the story and you, her forever after knight in shining armor.

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Silver, Blue and Gold (the color of the sky, I’m told…)

I awoke last night to the sound of thunder. A storm raging outside, lighting fury, the Fourth of July in May, I found my mind was likewise infected. I grab the closest writing utensil I could find, my cell phone, and with in a minute, my taxed digits had record my raging thoughts.7c175b46c88711e2926822000a1f9c9b_7
I haven’t reread it yet, probably won’t for a few days, but it’s nights like that when art courses through my veins so fiercely that I think I might explode that makes the whole process worth while.
After finally drifting into a wearied slumber. I awoke the next day to sunshine, clouds and an open road ahead of me. The promised light at the end of the tunnel.
I am looking forward to the weekend. My play is showing Friday-Sunday. I will be sure to let you know how it goes. And in the meantime, I intend to pick up my laptop and get back to the basics. There is a world out there that needs to be written.
Peace and much love to you all on this beautiful Wednesday.

Rain rain go away

We have had an insufferable about of rain the last few days. For me, an earth-child who longs to be with her mother, being stuck indoors can become mind-numbingly painful especially since my laptop (with all of my work) has been on vacation at my parents house, misplaced in the joyousness of moving.
In an effort to soothe my anxious mind, I’ve have turned to the glory of the internet, and with it, have found this little gem on Jane Austen.
Enjoy!

A quote for your Sunday

Some days I feel like being an artist is a curse, a long winding road of failure and rejection. And on those days, I hold on to this quote:Image

“If you want to really hurt your parents, and you don’t have the nerve to be gay, the least you can do is go into the arts.

I’m not kidding. The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable.

Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven’s sake.

Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem.

Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.”

Kurt Vonnegut, A Man Without a Country, 2005

Any art is creation. What is more wonderful than that?

PRAIRIE PLAYWRIGHTS PRODUCTION: May 31, June 1 & 2

PRAIRIE PLAYWRIGHTS PRODUCTION: May 31, June 1 & 2

The Prairieland Theatre Company will present “Prairie Playwrights: Four Plays Three Authors at 7 p.m. on Friday, May 31 and Saturday, June 1 and at 2 p.m. on Sunday, June 2 at the Farmhouse Banquet & Event Center in Delavan.

The four one-act plays were written by Central Illinois residents: “Art Appreciation” by Rachel Stanford of Washington; “Clean Sweep” by Gordon Petry of Pekin; and both “NIMBY” and “Returns” by Hale Garrison of Peoria.

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Tickets are $8 and will be sold in advance and at the door. Please visit their fb page for more details.

when you mix nuts and booze.

I have always had a fascination with F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald, so much so that I spent a semester writing a paper on Dick Diver’s male ego as a reflection of F. Scott’s own loss of self-esteem in his relationship with Zelda.Image

Maybe it’s because it is a historical bad realty show, a train wreck unfolding in front of you, and as much as want to look away you just can’t.

As my father says, that’s what happens when you mix nuts and booze.

Deeper, though their relationship and their lives show the flame of art that burns most brightly sometimes only burns for a few moments.

A new website chronicles their lives. If you are a fan or just an interest reader of Scott’s work, I suggest you take a peek. You won’t be disappointed.

A quick exciting announcement

Sorry to make this quick, but as I moved to a new house, not yet equipped with the internet, I have to make my blog post on my lunch break.

The Prairieland Theatre Company will present “Prairie Playwrights: Four Plays Three Authors at 7 p.m. on Friday, May 31 and Saturday, June 1 and at 2 p.m. on Sunday, June 2 at the Farmhouse Banquet & Event Center in Delavan.

This will include a piece of mine. I’ll have more information to follow!  I’m so honored to be included in this.

Welp, time for me to eat. I’ll post more information soon.

Rach

That’s called the blues (writer’s block)

I took the name of this blog (street of dreams) from a Guns n Roses song of the same title:

“And though as long as this road seems
I know it’s called the street of dreams
But that’s not stardust on my feet
It leaves a taste that’s bittersweet
That’s called the blues”

I connected with this song. The struggle of finding our purpose resonates for me, not only in life but  as a writer, knowing that there would be times when I would get hopelessly lost trying to find my way.

It’s a fact of life.

We all get lost.

Life, loss, our on emotions, creative writing blocks and a millions other things get in the way.

The question is not when we will find this funk, but how we get ourselves out of it…..

I find things to look forward to, things to energize me.

For example, my goal is to (next year) attend the Indie Book fest. I encourage you to check out its website. It looks like an amazing time.

Conferences are also an amazing way to reconnect with your writing side.

A few years ago, I went to Indiana University Writer’s Conference. The week long experience of writing and classes was nothing short of amazing! As I can’t make it this year (work), I am trying to attend at least one conference online.

What about you? What do you do when you get in a funk, especially a prolonged black hole of white pages for weeks on end funk?