Category: Alicia Writes

Pouring Eyes

On By Alicia McCauleyIn Teacher TalesLeave a comment

This week I started reading “Charlotte’s Web” to my class.  Year after year I marvel at E.B. White’s word choice.  His phrasing leaves me in awe.  It’s so rich that I often stop and read sentences over again, savoring the words like a lump of dark chocolate on my tongue.

From a young age I’ve been a collector of words.  I’m constantly listening for snippets of interesting conversation.  My ears stand at attention for striking word combinations.  A plastic spelling trophy along with stacks of journals brimming with angst filled teenage poetry are evidence of my history as a wordie.

I delight in helping my students collect and add words to their budding writing arsenal.  A couple of days ago, I was discussing Charlotte’s Web with one student in particular.  She was hopping around, sheets of sunset colored hair bouncing, telling me how excited she was to read the book because the movie was so good.  I prepared to launch into my creed on why the book is always better than the movie and how if she liked the movie, then she’ll love the book, etc., when this little pixie left me speechless.

The day before a huge storm had rolled in.  It was the kind of storm with lightning that razors the sky in two, the kind of storm with raindrops that smash against windowpanes, the kind of storm that requires me to turn the lights low and read “Thundercake” by Patricia Polacco.

If you’ve ever had the pleasure of reading anything Patricia Polacco’s put on paper, then you know you are in the presence of a magician who turns letters into words into phrases that leave me begging for more.

The storm and the book inspired a torrent of weather poetry in Writers’ Workshop.  Words like poured and rumbled and struck fell out of their mouths onto the pages.  It was delicious.

So as I took a deep breath to deliver my sermon on books vs. movies, this little girl stopped bouncing and from behind her auburn tresses said

I loved the movie because it was such a good story it made my eyes pour.

And there it was.

It made my eyes pour.

My ears pricked up at her poignant pairing of words.

This six-year-old reached back into our weather words, grabbed one out, pitched it into another context, and encapsulated just the right emotion.

She assures me she won’t cry during the book because she already knows it’s sad.  Me?  I make no such claim.  E.B. White’s stunning writing has caused me to brush away more than a tear or two, mostly when his words slowly begin appearing in the writing of my young wordies.

NaNoWriMo

On By Alicia McCauleyIn NaNoWriMo6 Comments

I am a lousy fiction writer.  Each time I’ve tried my hand at it my writing is full of plotless drivel, inane conversation and way too many adjectives.  It’s just plain awful.  You think I’m just being humble.  Number one, humility is not my strong suit.  Number two, it really is that bad.

These last couple of months have been different from what I expected and have left me a bit aimless.  Usually at this time of year, I’m deciding which charity I’m going to ride for.  I start to think about my weekly mileage goals and mull over routes.  As it turns out, having a goal or several smaller goals is something I miss.

So, hmmm, what to do with all this time?  What to do indeed.

I’m going to write a novel.

You’re horrified and, if you’ve read any of my fictional stuff, rightly so.  Well hang on a sec because it gets worse.  I’m going to participate in NaNoWriMo and write a novel in a month.  I’ll wait while you recover from that statement.  Starting November 1st, I’ll start typing with the goal of having 50,000 words or more by November 30th.

A dear friend of mine told me she’d rather gouge her eyes out than write a novel in a month.  I like my eyes, but come the middle of November I might be looking for sharp objects.

The thing is, other than an eyeball or two, I have nothing to lose.  It’s impossible for my fictional prose to worsen.  1667 words a day can only improve my writing or at the very least help me learn about myself as a writer.

Did I mention that writers who reach 50,000 words get to say they won?  I like the sound of being a winner.  Yup, I like it a lot.

The Dream Quilt

On By Alicia McCauleyIn The Junk DrawerLeave a comment

Asking for money is hard.  Asking for money for a good cause is only slightly less difficult.

My friend, Marie, has been a consistent supporter of my efforts to cycle and raise money for several worthy causes.  So about a month ago, when Marie told me her mother was doing the 3-Day Breast Cancer Walk, I was quick to donate.  My donation gave me a chance to win a quilt handmade by her mother.  I never win anything, so I didn’t really think about the quilt.

Last Thursday night I felt a cold plugging my head and I slept perched upright on the couch so I could do that whole breathing thing.  In the middle of the night I awoke from a dream, chilled by the crisp fall air brushing in through the windows, turning my exposed toes white.  I scrambled around for another blanket and as I lay waiting for sleep to descend, I thought about the dream.  I dreamt that I’d won the quilt and was sleeping snuggled under its story squares.

The next morning Marie beamed as she told me I’d won the quilt in real life.  I grinned from ear to ear as I recounted my dream.

The quilt arrives at my house later this month.  I can’t wait for frosty winter nights when I’ll pull it tight under my chin and dream some more.

The Same

On By Alicia McCauleyIn The Junk Drawer2 Comments

It’s been almost three years since my dad died.  We were estranged, a choice that was mine.  And yet, grief still sneaks up on me.

Today I was baking peanut butter cookies, a holiday favorite, and my mind snapped back to the Christmas morning my parents gave me a Bianchi my dad had picked out for me.  Moments like that were few and far between and cause a twinge of sorrow.

There are other times when I do expect to feel grief and it’s not any easier.  My best friend and his wife moved into a beautiful house just beyond the cemetery where my dad is buried.  On the way to their house Terry and I were cruising in the Mini with the top down, enjoying a perfect evening.  When we passed by the cemetery, I could barely keep from vomiting.  I sucked in gulps of cool air, blinked back hot tears, and tried in vain to listen to what Terry was saying.

I’m not really sure how to handle grief when it sneaks up on me.  I’m entirely unsure how to handle it even when I know it’s coming.  The truth is, sneaky or not so sneaky, it all hurts the same.

The Auntie Diaries: Happy Birth Day, Aiden!

On By Alicia McCauleyIn LettersLeave a comment

Dear Aiden,

It’s your Birth Day today.  For reasons beyond my understanding this is not technically your “first birthday”.  Even though it really is.  You were born on the most perfect day.  At around one in the morning your dad sent me a message saying they were on the way to the hospital because you were finally ready to see the world.

I got the message from your daddy and probably responded with a “afhoighyerhjans” because I am always very coherent in the wee hours of the morning.  What I meant by “afhoighyerhjans” is that I said a prayer for you to begin your life happy and healthy.  I laid awake breathing in the scent of summer rain.  I wondered when you would take your first breath.  I wondered if you’d be lucky enough to catch the same scent of rain.  All night long I awoke to the steady tap of rain dripping from gutters.  Each time, I checked to see if there was a message proclaiming your arrival.  The veil of night gave way to morning sun and the rain slowed to a mist.

At 6:59 am, your mom ushered you into the world.  Your daddy called me a little while later to tell me you were healthy and that your mommy birthed you naturally.  She is a strong woman, your mom, a fact you will surely appreciate many times in your life.

I came to meet you this afternoon.  You were asleep and kept flinging your blanket off.  Swaddling is not for you, almost like you’ve been cooped up too long and just want to stretch out.  Your mom wasn’t wearing a stitch of make-up and her hair was pulled up with curls escaping here and there.  She looked beautiful and happy with you by her side.

You are surrounded by people who love you and I thought I’d give you a heads up on some of us.  Your daddy knows everything about cars and will teach you as you grow up.  Your mommy is selfless, always putting her family before herself.  Your brother is awesome at kicking a soccer ball and I imagine the two of you playing many games together.  In case you need a laugh, your brother does a side-splitting impression of a duck.

Your Uncle Terry knows everything about sports.  He is convinced kids don’t like him, but you two will get along perfectly, especially if you root for the Chargers.  As for me, I love to read and write.  You’ll live among piles of books upon books upon books.  When you’re a little bigger we will go to the park to look at bugs, dig in the dirt, zip down the slide, and talk about all the things we see.

It’s going to be a great life, Aiden, full of joy, full of love.  Happy Birth Day, sweet nephew of mine.

Love,

Auntie Alicia