A Week in the Life

of a (lesser-known)writer

I retired from teaching three years ago. During that time, I’ve rediscovered a passion for writing. I joined a local writing forum and published a few stories and poems in their anthologies “Monsoon Madness” and  “Desert Muses”. https://www.amazon.com/Debra-VanDeventer/e/B08GZS67GS. I am fortunate to be part of a writer’s critique group as well. This January, I ventured into the art of blogging and Seams Like a Story was born.

 Why do I write? I’m not sure really, but it is a creative outlet. It keeps my brain active, and forces me to keep up with technology. Writing also helped me process the complex feelings I was having when I retired from a thirty-seven-year teaching career. I started writing about the challenges I faced as a new retiree and some anecdotes from my teaching past. Sometimes when I’m on a writing roll, I lose track of time and my husband has to drag me away from the computer for meals. Other times, I’m distracted, uninspired, in a creative slump.

My writing life has its ups and downs and my writer’s ego is fragile. Take last week, for example:

MONDAY : Girl dreams of fame and success

After three years, I had finished what I hoped would be the final draft of my “transition from teaching” memoir. Eager to test the waters, it was in the hands of three trusted critique buddies. I opened my morning journal and mapped out my road to success: publishing and marketing strategies, blog posts, Etsy shop? Pinterest? The possibilities were endless.

TUESDAY: Girl’s dreams are dashed

The critiques came in:

“Good job, this part is great, loved this section, so funny here, it’s going to be a great book that many can relate to. But… this part reads slow, move this chapter to the front, watch verb tense here, you have some comma issues, eliminate this part -it doesn’t add to the story.”

WEDNESDAY: Girl struggles with self-doubt

Maybe I don’t want to be a writer. It’s too hard. I don’t want to put in the work. No one would want to read this, anyway. My life is boring. Blah. I’m going to sit on the couch for the rest of my life and binge-watch Netflix.

THURSDAY: Girl receives a glimmer of hope

Text from a friend: “Just saw your story in the Desert Leaf magazine. Loved it!!”

I had submitted my 300 word short story six months ago, and they had accepted it for publication. After being rescheduled once, it was to appear in the September issue. It was in the back of my mind, almost forgotten, until I got the text. The next day, I received my copy in the mail. There it was on page six: Stir Crazy by Debra VanDeventer. A writer’s high, a glimmer of hope arrived just when I needed it most. 

FRIDAY: Girl gets back to work

Maybe I’ll take another look at my teacher-retirement manuscript. It has potential. Let me take out this part…. move this to the front… add comma here… work on the flow… add more details to this section…

(to be continued)

Threads of thought icon

Threads of thought

If you live in the Tucson area, check out the September issue of Desert Leaf Magazine.

If not, you can view Stir-Crazy and some of my other published stories and poems at https://vandeventerd.journoportfolio.com/

For the writers in the audience: How do you conquer writer’s block and/or self doubts? What are you writing about?

A Book By Its Cover

How to make a fabric book cover…and why you should!

 We’ve been told “Don’t judge a book by its cover,” but maybe we should! A fabric book cover adds a touch of elegance or whimsy to an ordinary book or journal. Here’s how, and why, you should give this project a try:

 We’ve been told “Don’t judge a book by its cover,” but maybe we should! A fabric book cover adds a touch of elegance or whimsy to an ordinary book or journal. Here’s how, and why, you should give this project a try:

The Blank Page

Adjusting to life in retirement

Steeped in Thought

by Debra VanDeventer

green tea with lemon

a beautiful way to greet

a blank page

That was then….

The alarm wakes me from a fitful sleep at 4:45 am. I roll out of bed, make a potty stop, then a few minutes of yoga to try to prepare myself for the intense day ahead. Breakfast, shower, dress, out the door by 6:30, at school by 7. Adrenaline pumping. Prepared (most mornings) to greet 25-30 energetic kindergarteners, first graders or, later in my career, fourth graders. Done. Click. Repeat. For 37 years. 

This is now….

Sunlight streaming through the slats in the window blinds rouses me from a restful night’s sleep. The days are lengthening and the sun will wake me a few minutes earlier each day. My biological clock adjusts itself to the rhythm of daylight and darkness. This morning’s yoga session is leisurely, breakfast and a walk follows. After showering, I put on comfy leggings and a soft tunic top. Shoes are optional. The tea kettle signals my morning brew is ready. I make my way to my office/studio, open my journal and greet…

Loose Threads

Pathways to Creativity

In my very first blog post, I showed this picture of my “studio” space I’d designed to support my creative life after retirement. http://seamslikeastory.com/creating-a-space-to-sew-and-write

I’ll admit, I was a young, naïve Blogger(two months ago) eager to impress my audience. One reader suggested it was “too neat to be true.”  I have a confession to make. It doesn’t always look like the photo. You see, my creative life has a split personality.

Different pathways to creativity

I contribute my dichotomy of styles to my parents, Jack and Alice.

Jack liked to have things tidy and organized. If he needed a pencil, sheet of paper, or pair of scissors he knew right where to find them in his organized desk. On the other hand, when Alice got an inspiration, it often took over our household in a flurry of activity leaving an unruly mess in its wake. Dad learned to take refuge in his office when this happened, only peeking out when order had been restored.  Sometimes I’m Jack. I love it when I can go to my sewing pegboard and find my scissors just where they should be, or look at my pattern filing system and take pride that I’d put things back where they belonged. But sometimes, a burst of Alice takes over and I find myself following loose threads.
 I recently had a “loose threads” morning.  It went something like this: