I want to tell you about Courting the Wild Twin by Martin Shaw. I read this little gem in one night, and I expect I’ll reread it many times. In fact, I have already started compiling a list of people who I will send this to as a gift.
It’s about reclaiming the wild self and the role of the truth in storytelling. I’d recommend it to anyone who considers themselves a storyteller. I enjoyed so much I also signed up for an online course on storytelling by Shaw through the Mystery School. Below is a video of Shaw reading an excerpt from the book.
Last Friday, I hosted my first write-in for paid subscribers of this here workshop. We met for about two hours, and everyone got some words written. I really enjoyed being able to chat with everyone between writing rounds.
If you’ve been longing for accountability and community, I’d urge you to give it a try. All you have to do is subscribe to the newsletter (it’s $6 a month or $50 a year), if you try it for a month and it’s not for you, just cancel it.
P.S. Wells Writing Workshop isn’t just for writers. It’s for creative types from all walks of life who want to live a good story.
Monday was the new moon in Cancer. The second Cancer moon in a row, as a matter of fact. New moons are good times for cleaning, organizing, and setting intentions. Cancer is a watery sign, and you might be feeling more emotions or memories rising from the depths. You might need to crawl into your shell for a few days—take more naps, retreat to do some thinking/feeling, or maybe you’re experiencing a sudden rush of nesting urges. I’m doing all three.
For my Gen X friends I’ve also had this song dancing in my head since Monday.
It’s been more than two decades since I watched the video, and when I pulled it up for this post, I was struck by how timely the narrative of the video seemed. Portland, anyone?
Don’t really have a point, except that we want the world and time to be linear but it’s actually a great spiral. In 1983, when this song came out, I was eight years old and thought anything was possible. Now, I’m 45. I have things I’m afraid to lose, but I still think anything’s possible.
See? I told you I’ve been pensive this week.
Anyway, what’s woo with you?