writing

A Day for Prayer

~ Becky Ross Michael ~ Leave a comment

 

I didn’t really consider going to church, today, but did feel an essence of spirituality while I spent some time at the community garden. I was all “alone,” surrounded by the noise of buzzing bees, chirping birds, and tall plants of okra brushing against each other in the breeze.

          How can we be certain this lovely planet will be preserved?

All the sights, sounds and smells seemed magnified. Being in the outdoors has that effect on me, even more so, since I no longer own a personal piece of nature. My back had really started to tighten up by the time I finished some watering and weeding, though it has been feeling much better, most days.

          Thankful I can still manage doing so many things.

A train rumbled past, just beyond the black, wrought-iron fence. I remember reading that when a tornado is headed towards you, it sounds just like a freight train. The thought gave me a cold chill, in spite of the hot sun beating down on me.

          Grateful I haven’t seen any of those since moving to Texas.

What horror so many Texans must have recently suffered when Hurricane Harvey was upon them. And now to live with the destruction that’s been left behind.

          Please don’t give them more than they can bear.

Back in the apartment, I worked at my computer for most of the day and ventured outdoors for a walk before dark. It was another beautiful evening, although warmer than this ‘northern girl’ prefers in September. Gentle wind all around, pink sun going down in the west, full moon rising in the east. People out strolling, alone or in couples, and some exercising their dogs on leashes. I felt the absence of mine. Person and dog.

          Relieved I am learning to make peace with my loss.

As I drew near to the parking garage, I wondered if I would catch any of the ghostly saxophone sounds. No such luck, although I have heard the music on two separate occasions. Coming into the open, there was a full view of the setting sun on the horizon and a beautiful scene with the church silhouetted against the orb’s bright light. My heart felt full.

          Please keep my loved ones safe.

Just as I finished that thought, the outdoor electric sconces of the church flickered on to begin their nightly vigil. Completing my route past the church, around the library, and skirting the burbling fountain, I experienced a dawning realization.

          I’ve been praying all day.

 

 

 

 

Marvelous Miso

~ Becky Ross Michael ~ 2 Comments

 

In case you are not familiar with miso, this is a fermented paste, traditionally made from soybeans and various grains, which is used as a seasoning in many Japanese dishes. More recently, miso also may contain chickpeas, quinoa, or other ingredients as the base. The color and taste of your miso will depend on the type you choose. Resulting flavors range from salty to sweet and savory to fruity, all the while retaining a wonderful, earthy taste. It is said to contain protein and vitamins, and versions with reduced salt content may be found in select markets.

Miso first came to my attention years ago when it was called for in a recipe from a Japanese cookbook. I had forgotten about it until last week, when coming across an instant version of tofu miso soup at the grocery store. It wasn’t too bad and reminded me how much I like miso. In that format, however, the servings were very small, fairly expensive, and the dehydrated tofu squares were miniscule. Why not make the real thing?

After searching in several stores, I found a tub of miso in the refrigerated produce section. It was a light-colored version and had a somewhat sweet, but earthy flavor. I started my cooking experiment with several cups of water in a pan and began to spoon miso, while heating and stirring until it was dissolved and had the taste I wanted. I then added quartered mushrooms, along with slices of the white part of a green onion and continued to simmer.

Meanwhile, I cut a quarter tub of tofu and arranged the cubes in the bottom of a soup bowl. When the vegetables in the soup were soft, I poured it over the tofu and added soy sauce, to taste, with a few snips of the onion greens for color.

M-m-m-marvelous!

Other Possibilities

Leave out the mushrooms, onion, tofu and/or soy sauce.

Add any of the following:

Chopped bok choy or spinach
Dried sea vegetables
Bonito (fish) flakes
Dried/ground shrimp
Anchovy paste
Fish or other seafood
Sesame oil

My Own “Instant” Version

*Heat water in a pan.
*Place small cubes of tofu in the bottom of a large mug.
*Slice mushrooms (or use canned) on top of the tofu.
*Add a spoonful of miso, along with any other desired flavorings.
*Pour boiling water over the contents in the cup.
*Stir, until the miso is dissolved.
*Cover the cup for several minutes to blend flavors.

How have you cooked with miso? I’d love to read about your ideas in comments!

 

 

 

 

 

Everything but Sinatra

~ Becky Ross Michael ~ 2 Comments

On steamy days like these, when the temperatures reach the high 90s, I wait until just before dark for my walk. The humidity hovers, and I have to push myself to reach my usual brisk pace. Water bottle held in one hand and phone in the other.

I pass familiar buildings, inhale the aromas from nearby restaurants, and check on the abundant brown rabbits that scamper in and out of bushes near homes and businesses. Happy to reach the halfway mark, I then turn.

Last evening, that change in direction delivered a clear view of the pinkish-orange platter of sun beginning its dip below the edge of the world. Even warmer on that leg of the walk, I then stopped for a swig of water.

Heading past a construction zone shut down for the day, I crossed the pavement and was met by a delicious breeze funneling along the street. The air was much cooler, and the rest of my walk would be easier.

When I stepped onto the sidewalk at the other side, I heard it. Saxophone music. It didn’t seem electronic, but more like a real person playing an actual saxophone. The notes, sounding like practice or scales, emanated from a four-story parking garage set in the block between a large church and library. I stopped, mesmerized.

Who could it be and why? Unusual acoustics. My senses strained on overload, while I looked and listened. Pastel fingers of sunset reaching from the horizon pointed at a slice of moon visible in the sky, above. The scents of miniature roses and squat rosemary bushes tickled my nose.

As I stood, imagining the musician, the casual noodling evolved into clear, plaintive melodies. One of those movies where lovers share dinner on a rooftop garden amid asphalt and skyscrapers came to mind. That song. I knew that song. Humming along, the words took shape in my head. “Fly me to the moon…hold my hand.”

Romantic, memorable and haunting. I try to forget, but thought about you, while I continued the journey back home.

Memoir Publication and Garden Update

~ Becky Ross Michael ~ Leave a comment

UP Reader

The U.P. Reader, which includes my memoir piece, “Lonely Road,” is now available in print and e-book! This literary magazine is published by Modern History Press in conjunction with the Upper Peninsula Publishers and Authors Association (UPPAA). The publication also contains fiction, humor, poetry, history, and more.

When I read the call for submissions, my first instinct was to write a fictional story set in Michigan’s U.P., where I lived for many years. What about my own, personal tales, just waiting to be told? I decided that memoir was the way to go.

As Barbra Streisand sang in one of my favorite movies, “The Way We Were,” memories really can “light the corners” of our minds. But, when too much pain is caused by remembering, we often choose to ignore and wall-off those sections of our brains. Writing memoir can be like taking the partitions down and letting the light shine, once again, onto those remembrances. The act can bring questions, heartache, revelations and healing.

“Lonely Road” relates an evocative experience during my wintertime move to the Upper Peninsula, with the purpose of giving a faltering marriage one more try. The story is also a metaphor for the journey of life, with its pleasant surprises, difficult challenges, and safe havens. That “one more try” to stay together spanned several additional decades. Success or failure? Guess it depends on how you look at it. This was a very difficult piece for me to write because of all the emotions to which it gave rise. I would like to say that I felt better once I had it down. Saying it well and true did give me a sense of satisfaction. The sadness over our loss still remains.

I hope that you’ll consider reading about my experience, along with sampling contributions from other writers with connections to the Upper Peninsula, in the beautiful state of Michigan. The book is available from the publisher, through Amazon, and at several retailers in the U.P.  Reviews are welcomed!

                                                                                                                   

GARDEN UPDATE

The Community Garden is looking quite bountiful these days! Cucumbers and zucchini are already producing. Today, I also spotted tiny green peppers and tomatoes. Giant sunflowers provide a lovely backdrop. My little plot contains huge marigolds and abundant basil. I’ve already taken several bags of the herb over to the food pantry. Basil is great in curries and salads. Pesto, anyone?

The rosemary is a bit on the small side, and I’m afraid the watering that’s helping the basil thrive may be somewhat of a negative for those plants, which often prefer drier conditions. They’re growing, though, and I snipped the ends to encourage even more growth. Did my molasses and orange oil concoction succeed in the fight against the fire ants? Yes and no. It worked well enough to drive them over to the other side of the little garden bed. At least they stay off the plants!

Community Gardening: waiting for my “real life” to resume?

~ Becky Ross Michael ~ Leave a comment

 

Meandering garden paths formed the outline of my pleasant childhood. In dreams, I see the grape arbor that separated our manicured yard from the large garden and offered sustenance for the birds. As summers wore on, rows of vegetables and flowers blurred and overran with plenty. Standing out in memory are crisp cucumbers, tart rhubarb and stately iris. I realized later in life that I should have paid more attention to my parents’ gardening techniques. Very little had stuck with me, except a love of that entity called “garden.”

Lack of knowledge, funds and assistance thwarted my early attempts at gardening as an adult. I still loved the idea of growing things, however, and did manage to nurture some healthy annuals, daylilies and rhubarb.

beans cropped

As life unfolded, I had the opportunity to experience gardening in various climates. Azalea and camellia in the south. Daffodils, iris and clematis in the north. Most recently, I accepted the challenge to grow vegetables in northern Michigan, planting tomatoes, bell peppers, leaf lettuce and pole beans. My efforts met varied success. Critters liked the tomatoes, so very few made it to the kitchen. Lettuce was plentiful, and regrowth was almost instantaneous after harvest. The pole beans took a while getting started, but a wooden teepee-like form covered with the slim green darlings was my crowning achievement for several summers until I moved.

When sleep is difficult to find, these nights, I sometimes walk through that northern yard in my mind, smelling the lilacs, touching the rubbery hosta leaves, checking to see if tender plants need water. How is it possible that my life offers no personal outdoor space and only windows to sun my numerous houseplants? Yes, there is natural beauty and plenty all around, but none of it is “mine.”

Of late, a search led me to the nearby community garden where citizens plant and tend crops for donation to the local food pantry. Because I’ve never done much gardening in this hot and dry Texas climate, I decided to ease into it by adopting a small plot. A volunteer had planted my rectangle of earth with herbs, since the season was already in full swing. Enough space remained to add some marigolds, theoretically to inhibit rabbits from stopping by for dinner.

                                  

As it turns out, I also “adopted” a nest of fire ants, and I’ve been battling them with a safe mixture of citrus compost tea, orange oil, natural dish soap and molasses. Either I’m winning the fight, or they have burrowed farther into the earth. I certainly won’t dig any deeper to find them! (Please see additional ideas, below.)

Rabbits ignored the marigolds to feast on my rosemary and English thyme. The pungent basil remained intact, however. I purchased an organic mixture to spray around plant bases, which involved some type of animal urine and promised to ward off both rabbits and deer. Last time I watered, I saw some growth, so that may be a success. Larger plots at the community garden boast squash, pumpkins, cucumbers and tomatoes, just to name a few.

butterfly-55049__340

Not sure what the future holds. Will I ever again have my own yard? Should I adopt a larger plot next year to contribute in a more meaningful manner? Could I actually have both? Only time will tell…

Anti-Fire Ant: non-toxic ideas

Compost tea (citrus peels simmered in water)

Molasses

Orange oil (essential oil, not cleaning oil)

Liquid dish soap (natural/non-toxic)

(Use about a cup of the above in a gallon of water, to be poured down into the center of ant hill.)

Add citrus compost tea when watering at any time.

Pour plain boiling water into the center of hill when ants are “at rest.”

Leave citrus peels in/near ant hill and throughout garden.

 

 

 

 

Thankful for…my critique group!

~ Becky Ross Michael ~ Leave a comment

frisco-square-tx

This past year has brought many changes to my life. The culmination is that I now live in a different part of the country. The main advantages I currently enjoy are living closer to my children and grandchildren, along with the MUCH milder wintertime weather! On a more negative note, I left behind familiar people, places, and activities. Luckily, the memories stay with me wherever I go and also offer the occasional writing topic.

In efforts to make the most of my new location and give my writing a boost, I joined the writing critique group offered through my local library. That was one of the best choices I have ever made. This type of in-person work group may not be for everyone, but if you have trouble finding motivation or direction in your writing, you may want to give it a try!

The composition of this particular community of writers varies and flows from one month to the next, but has a basic structure of members usually in attendance, embracing those who write fiction or non-fiction for ages childhood to adult. Members include those who are published through various modes, or are as yet unpublished. We take turns sharing portions of our works, while members offer praise and helpful suggestions. The tone is positive and supportive, even when questions or inconsistencies about the pieces are being discussed. Celebrations of our successes are common. I always leave the meeting feeling energized, motivated and renewed.

I’ve taken part in on-line critiques in the past and have certainly benefitted. The personal aspect of seeing other writers face-to-face appeals to me even more. If you haven’t tried a writing group, I hope you’ll consider joining one. The configuration could vary in membership numbers and writing types involved, but I imagine that most provide the crucial aspect of a positive atmosphere.

Perhaps your geographical area doesn’t yet offer this option. You could start a group yourself, with the library being the logical place to display an announcement. Several sites on the Internet contain ideas for starting and running successful writing groups. In addition, select chapters of Sisters in Crime and the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators offer opportunities to share writing with other members, and you could also check out those possibilities online.

Have a wonderful holiday season, filled with opportunities to read enjoyable books and stories, and to write about the topics, people, and characters near to your hearts!

Dealing with Personal Issues through Our Characters

~ Becky Ross Michael ~ 2 Comments

 

 

Spring is the season of renewal and new growth. It can also be a time to reflect on pleasant memories or to revisit excruciating challenges that still haunt us. I recently read an intriguing article, “Dangerous Writing: Go to Your Battlefield”, by author and teacher, Tom Spanbauer. (Poets & Writers, January/February 2016). At the risk of being too general, he speaks about digging deeply into ourselves, to address difficult topics that are important to us, in order to shape our fictional works. His words certainly opened my eyes.

Throughout the course of Spanbauer’s piece, I realized some important facts about my own work. As most writers of fiction, I borrow from reality and include snippets of this person and that individual in the characters I attempt to bring alive. What I hadn’t faced is that some of their problems, issues, and challenges are my own, and I may be using the writing to work through them.

Unfortunately, I don’t think that I’ve brought any of these  scenarios full circle to solutions. Guess that I’ve danced on the edge of danger, but haven’t really dived in. I plan to revisit my own “dangerous writing” and push it to the limit, getting everything I can out of the telling. I hope that the resulting characters will appear even more realistic and some personal answers will materialize, as well.

Spring beckons, along with buds erupting on trees, flowers poking through dark earth, and birds singing new songs. We don’t have to “start over” to begin again. Whatever we face might be just a little easier, a touch sweeter, or a bit brighter by giving in to the season and wringing it for all it has to offer. Use it to the extent of its worth. After all, we don’t have forever…do we?

Outdoor Gardening in the Winter: Juxtaposition as a Handy Writing Tool

~ Becky Ross Michael ~ 2 Comments

~Hot sun formed a cap for my bare head. Warm, rich earth felt heavenly, flowing between my fingers like coins of gold. As I plucked a catnip plant from the basket, the citrus odor pleasantly tickled my nose. After deciding on its resting place near the brightly blooming yellow jasmine, I turned to my favorite, the mint. Probably my herb of choice because I could usually coax it to grow anywhere, I imagined how its refreshing aroma would deliciously waft in through the open window. As I reached for the next plant, I felt a bead of sweat break free on my back and begin its trickle downward. How many months had it been since I’d experienced that not-unpleasant sensation?

Movement caught my eye, and I worried for a second that Mildred had made a successful escape. In relief, I discovered the merrily blinking pink lights snaking around the stair railing and the sleek tortoiseshell safely perched on the other side of the window screen, happily batting at red and white, heart-shaped decorations.

“How in the heck did I end up here this winter?” I thought for the thousandth time, feeling that familiar, magnetic pull back toward the north.~

 Readers on the west coast or in southern locations wouldn’t see the weather described in February from this opening scene as juxtaposition, but many of us hailing from colder climes certainly would. Setting up this type of contrast is a handy strategy for grabbing the attention of readers from the beginning. Try it, in your next piece! Meanwhile, since this snippet is from my own personal journey, I’ll be adding to the story as my life unfolds…

Why I Liked Trixie Belden More Than Nancy Drew (and why it still matters)

~ Becky Ross Michael ~ 7 Comments

Trixie Belden

Let’s face it…books about both characters have withstood the test of time. As a kid, I wanted not only to immerse myself in stories ABOUT Trixie, but I also desired to BE her. Why Trixie and not Nancy? I enjoyed books about them both and still have a wonderful memory of sitting in my classroom at Zion Lutheran Elementary, in Tawas City, Michigan, reading a version of The Hidden Staircase that was “vintage” even at that point in time, in the early 60’s.

I don’t really remember a specific place where I read about Trixie…it just seemed, once I digested the first episode of her life, that “she” was always there with me…at home, in school, riding my bike, walking over to a friend’s house, or worrying about something in bed at night.

Why, indeed, did Trixie grab my imagination and thoughts more than Nancy? I’ve given this some thought, recently, and here are several ideas and memories:

  • A bike was her common mode of transportation, which I could relate to, given my age. She sometimes rode horses, also, which I was always too apprehensive to try. Trixie sometimes envied her friends who owned those animals.
  • Her hair was cut short, which was how I wore my own (by default…it’s a long story), after early childhood. I always imagined that Trixie would have liked longer hair like her friends, Honey Wheeler and Di Lynch.
  • She had a best friend, Honey, who she could count on, through thick and thin. They did have a few misunderstandings, as I remember, but always worked things out. My “bestie” changed a few times over the years, and although I tended to be a loner, that relationship was always very important to me.
  • Completion of certain household chores was always expected of Trixie, which she often disliked. I hate to admit that I was sporadic in my organizational skills, and ranged from “pig-like” qualities in my bedroom to obsessive repeated vacuuming of our living room.
  • She had some trouble in math, to which I could relate after I hit long division!
  • Jim seemed like the model partner to me. He was dependable, nice looking, and gave Trixie plenty of space to be her own person. In several of the later books, Trixie seemed to struggle a bit with just how to deal with her feelings for Jim.
  • She was very brave and actually solved mysteries, which I could only imagine someone doing in real life. I admired that Trixie and Honey already knew what they wanted to be when they “grew up”, with their goals of co-owning a detective agency.
  • She dealt with some fears and worries, to which I could always relate (and still do!).

What does my list tell me? Why do I care, and how can this make me a better writer? It appears that I celebrated our similarities AND our differences. In the end, I think that believable characters are the answer. Some people might want to read about individuals like themselves, while others may be attracted to the more fantasy appeal of characters who are very different or exotic. Either way, REAL is the key word, in my opinion.

I didn’t know just what it was at the time, but I realize after all these years that Nancy seemed more wooden and too perfect. I want to peek into the life of someone with positive qualities and faults, and I imagine that’s true for many readers. I’m planning to keep that in mind, from now on, when fashioning my own imperfect characters!

Definition of “Holiday”

~ Becky Ross Michael ~ 2 Comments

 

hol-i-day   /ˈhäləˌdā/
noun
  1. 1.
    a day of festivity or recreation when no work is done.

I found this amusing definition for “holiday” on the Internet, giving me a bit of a chuckle. Many of us are observing holidays, but I’m guessing that a great deal of work is still being done! In fact, I’m under the impression that many writers feel even more inspired at this time of year, due to the changing seasons, observance of religious traditions linked to childhood memories, and emotions carefully hidden that struggle to resurface.

Holidays can also highlight certain literature-related behaviors. Many of us purchase books as gifts to please others (maybe those are volumes we’d actually rather read ourselves?), seek out other cutesy presents for the bibliophiles on our lists (often significantly over-priced), or finally resort to life-saving gift certificates when all else fails (whew!).

Books set during the holidays are widely popular. To meet her readers’ desires, Janet Rudolph yearly presents an extensive list of mystery books set during the holidays on her blog, Mystery Fanfare. I’ve happily tried new titles discovered there, and been pleasantly reminded of vintage offerings I’d enjoyed in the past.

Whatever “holidays” meant for you, I hope that yours were pleasant, safe, and productive!

As a small New Year’s gift, I’m offering my short story, “Romantivores”, free for Kindle through Amazon, from January 8-12. This is a perfect way for readers to meet Jonathan and Solveig, the main characters of my still-to-be-published book by the same title!

To learn more about my “writerly life”, check out the author interview with me, found at “Tyree Tomes – Here There Be Dragons!”.