Marion Agnew

Here are five things I'd like to remember from May. One. A question I’ve asked myself this month: what’s the name of that warbler, that one there, the one that’s black and white? (It’s the Black and White Warbler.) Two. I’m still (as I was in January ) mulling over the impossibility of summing up a person’s life in an obituary or celebrating a person’s whole life in a funeral or memorial service. I’m also struck by how connected people are, how many interests they have, how many professional groups they can be part of (and then groups of retired professionals, like retired teacher organizations), spiritual groups, even. I don’t have a wise generalization to make about cultural changes, age groups, “kids today” or whatever. I’m just impressed, I guess, at all the ways people live their values and contribute to the world. Cloud and Island and Water and Leafing Trees Three. Scope creep/feature creep: maybe this isn’t exactly the same as what I want to remember, but it’s related. In...

The seasons are definitely changing now--May is undisputably spring instead of late winter--and so I've been looking back and looking ahead. It seems to be what I do when the external world changes visibly. What spring looks like, sometimes. It's always disheartening instructive to look at what I was n't able to complete in the previous season. And also, why that might be.  So this all sounds basic, BUT. I’m trying to remember that when I try something and it doesn’t work, I need to 1. Stop trying that and 2. Figure out why, if possible (sometimes there is no because), and 3. Use that info to try something else. I recognize that this is Basic Life Skillz 101. Logic. Problem-solving. Yet sometimes my first instinct is to try harder. Actually, that's my second instinct--my first is to ignore it all. THEN I try harder (muscling through, discipline, don't let myself off the hook, etc.). So this analysis is probably my third step. I guess it's good when I get there...

Back in the Days of Yore (pre-lockdowns—actually, more than a decade ago, wow, what even is time) I’d periodically get four-hour coffees with a specific writer-friend who is also a musician.   One of the questions we’d mull over is “What is the writer equivalent of scales?” Another was its related idea, “What is a practice session for writers?”   Obviously, the questions don’t have a 1:1 answer. Musicians perform, and although writers can perform also, it’s rarer. Perhaps. For me, anyway. As a writer of things on paper (vs. writing works for performance), I don’t focus on a performance element of my work, though I’ve grown to enjoy the more performative opportunities for readings and conversations. An accident, but I like it!   But! Back to a scale—a form that musicians can practice to gain muscle memory and general mastery.   For me, the equivalent is a daily writing practice. My practice varies, in terms of form, result, and effectiveness (and even ...

I’ve seen several references to the practice of writing “five things” in various places, but I most recently saw it in Medea Lee Patel’s Substack, Dear Somebody. She logs and five things each week! That’s ambitious.   So here are five things I want to remember from January, 2025.   One. Narratives still have the power to settle my brain. I was grateful to re-learn this after several fragmented days early in the month—days that included the mixed gratitude, reverence, and sorrow from the funeral of President Jimmy Carter. A story, a beginning middle end, whether it’s an episode of a cop or lawyer or medical show, a home renovation, a couple looking to Escape to the Country—that cycle brings things to a satisfying conclusion. My brain likes that, especially at 2 a.m.   Two. Speaking of death: from experiencing the death of several friends and acquaintances in the past six months, I’ve gained a new understanding of and appreciation for obituaries. How on eart...

I didn't celebrate the turn from 2024 to 2025 with champagne at midnight (or anything at midnight beyond snoozing). I'm not against traditional celebrations. They can be fun--I've been to several different kinds of parties and observations of the new year.  Yet some rituals of the new year are always available to me, and I find I'm observing and enjoying them. Paperblanks, ordered from my local bookstore,  along with a well-loved Filofax Folio. For example:  I’ve pulled out folders and written 2025 on them, moving the 2024 information to the “tax stuff” spot Making hard choices from among the plethora of opportunities, I’ve added some events to my calendar for January I’m writing in the new nice notebooks  We’re seeing Christmas cards in our mailbox, which is nice—since the postal strike ended, we’ve received mostly junk, and that’s not nearly as fun I’ve watched (several times a brief video (or several) of someone painting with watercolours That last one is less abo...

Earlier this year I mentioned my gratitude practice, explained (more or less) how it works (more or less), and shared some of the recent specific things that had appeared on my gratitude list at that time.   Six months later, it’s time for more gratitudes. At present, I’m grateful for many of the big-picture items I mentioned in June, plus these specifics, in no particular order: Enough snow that our well is not frozen and may hold its own when spring arrives Life in the country, where we marvel at small birds at the feeder and big birds in the sky, and we watch deer grow from fawns to adulthood People who drive the speed limit (or slower!) in neighbourhoods when they’re driving on ice, even if they’re driving a ginormous truck and think they don’t have to slow down; I doubt that they’re doing it to keep from frightening walkers but that’s a happy side effect Our local bookstore, Entershine Bookshop, which has become an integral part of the local writing and reading community ...

The year is waning, as is the amount of daylight in individual days; both will soon wax again.  Meanwhile, here are some of the sights. Also sites (certainly familiar locations to anyone who follows me on social media). Also sighs, which is what I'd originally typed instead of sights.  The evening sky Because even after twenty years here, ten years in northern Colorado before that, and five years in the mountains of New Mexico before THAT, the first snowstorm--the first REAL one, the first that stays--still daunts me.  But in the space of three or four days, we've now had two. And managed. Here it comes And I continue  my ongoing "wayfinding" efforts . I'm looking for lampposts, bits of joy (also called "glimmers" I think). Recently, I had a great time volunteering with Dementia Cafe (and have the chance to next weekend as well).  Yesterday I saw old bananas in the grocery store and got an urge to make banana bread. Maybe I resemble Simone m ore than I...

It's been quite the autumn. After the events in September, we had another at the end of October. In that one, author Roy Blomstrom (who is also my husband) and I participated in Entershine Bookshop's "In Conversation with Michael Sobota" series. Roy's newest historical novel, The Devil's Violin: Myllysilta's History , had come out early in the summer, and this was our celebration. Michael asked us his trademark thoughtful questions, we ate cookies, Roy talked about The Devil's Violin and I talked about Making Up the Gods, we signed books that the lovely Entershine people sold. It was a nice event. We're fortunate to have both Entershine and Michael in Thunder Bay. Besides interviewing authors and participating in the arts community in general, Michael writes book reviews for the local newspaper AND the local arts magazine (for which he also writes a column on movies). The following weekend, I began co-leading a three-week community arts/creative wr...

Yes, I'm aware that it's already October--we're not even in the FIRST days of autumn anymore. However, the weather is very summer-like (and too dry!), so summer's experiences have been on my mind. Also, September was a full month. Besides extending the summer "I want to be outdoors" feeling as long as possible, I had a couple of events. Early-ish in the month, I shared a book signing with David Giuliano, Marathon-based author of The Undertaking of Billy Buffone (Latitude 46), at Indigo Thunder Bay. It was fun to see friends and spend time in the local branch of the national chain.  I'm on the left Later, I hosted a stop on the Northern Tour for Rod Carley's new novel, Ruff , also from Latitude 46. We had a great chat at the library about all things creativity, Shakespeare, midlife crises, plagues/pandemics, and everything old being new again.  Rod signing copies of Ruff Between and among those events and the regular Activities of Daily Living, I'v...

My sister worked, for a while, as an editor at an engineering firm. Once she went to her boss because there was too much to do and she wasn't sure where even to begin. He told her, "Do something." As in, pick something, anything, and do it.  It sounds really simple, as in TOO simple, but it's turned out to be helpful advice.  Clouds probably don't feel overwhelmed. For one thing, action always helps. Standing frozen with too many competing priorities whirring in your (my) head isn't useful. If nothing else, doing something breaks the power of those non-helpful thoughts. Mine generally include, "Whatever I do will be wrong" or "I'm really going to mess up" or "When will they find out I don't know what I'm doing?" And for another, getting my hands dirty in a project reminds me of that specific project's needs.  As in, "Oh yeah, I remember now--this scene was really difficult and I couldn't figure it out and ...

Here are some further adventures in the fun opportunities to talk about a book! Recently, the kind folks at River Street Writing hosted me for the Power Q&A series, featured on their blog.   In the autumn, my book was featured at the local bookstore. A dream come true.  It was so great to have the chance to reflect on the fact that MAKING UP THE GODS is a story infused with grief. I actually thought I was writing about how adults make decisions, but, as Semisonic says, "Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end." So yes, grief!  I was also fortunate to be part of the "Story Share" series on the Jacqui Just Chatters podcast! She did a cross-promotion with the Bookish Flights podcast , and a total of four people shared their stories about books that have impacted our lives.  I could probably keep the podcast in stories for years, but one book has been on my mind quite a bit as I've shared MAKING UP THE GODS with the world--MRS. MINIVER, by...

As someone who lives in a rural home with another writer, with a great deal of choice over my workday, one might wonder why I would attend a writing retreat. What would I possibly need that I can't get at home? Why would I pay someone a fee to go somewhere else to do what I can already do? For many years, for those reasons, I didn't go. A local informal gathering of writers has been meeting for long, intensive self-directed weekends for years. I never understood the appeal. Yet now, I'm just back from a writing retreat.   The drive out. The view over Lake Marie Louise, toward my home, which lies beyond more land and a bay of Lake Superior. Why did I go? What happened to change my mind? Well, life, mostly.  I first went in 2020. My first book, REVERBERATIONS: A DAUGHTER'S MEDITATIONS ON ALZHEIMER'S, had just come out.  The experience of focusing intently on that one manuscript--short essays--had been extremely productive for me. I'd benefitted greatly from exchan...