Marion Agnew

So, the wait is over. I've had some good health-related news, and, of course, some writing rejections, because that's all part of life. I'll take it. The wait is also over for both political parties in the U.S. By this weekend, both conventions will be over, their nominees officially in place. For the most part, I avoid talking about politics in public anymore. But it's still the best theatre (or theater) in which to hone one's, um, critical thinking skills. And, as it happens, it's a great venue in which to learn about writing--speechwriting in particular. Here are two articles about the speech Michelle Obama gave at the Democratic National Convention earlier this week. By Roy Peter Clark, at the Poynter Institute: Eight Writing Lessons from Michelle Obama's DNC Speech. Read this to learn about the magic of three, about narrative, about pronouns, and other good things.  By Rebecca Thering, writing at Medium: The Line I Wish Michelle Obama Hadn'...

"If you can fill the unforgiving minute/with sixty seconds' worth of distance run"  "If--", Rudyard Kipling   I didn't encounter this Kipling poem until my first exposure to sports psychology at university, but it reminds me of my parents' insistence that we spend our time in "useful" ways. And I can't shut up that Kipling-in-my-head as I wait. Yes, this is the same waiting I wrote about a couple of weeks ago . I'm still waiting on the most nerve-wracking stuff, but not for much longer. Meanwhile, the clock seems to be moving ever more slowly as it counts down. Some periods of time are just awkward--not long enough to complete something, too long to "do nothing" (read for pleasure or scan Twitter) without guilt. (Darn that Kipling.) So here are some possible ways to handle those weirdo time periods: 1. Chunk the awkward time. If you have a flight, meeting, or appointment mid-afternoon, you still have the full morn...

That's what I'm up to this week. Difficult as it is to leave this place at this time of the year (or, like, ever), I'm enjoying family time. Here's something else I really really really enjoyed recently. Come Thou Tortoise, by Jessica Grant I mean, what is not to love? It's funny and insightful and goes off the rails on occasion, and what is not to love about that? Please: do not say no to this tortoise and her current "owner," Audrey. You will laugh.

Waiting is not my favorite thing. Probably because it is one way to demonstrate patience, also not my favorite thing. However. So many times, it feels as if the only option is to wait. * for a response to something * for information * for a choice to become clearer "They" always advise against waiting. As in, "while waiting for responses to work you've submitted, work on something else." The theory is, this response you're waiting for won't define you. You continue to be yourself, you continue to do your work, regardless of any one particular response. In other words, you don't cede your power to whatever it is you're waiting for. And for "power," read "time," "energy," "personhood," "identity," and other good words like that. I think of the Reeboks ad (because I'm old like that): Reeboks let UBU. So: don't wait. That's great excellent wonderful advice. I take it when I can....

Sometimes you have choices. * Put color on all your hair this month, or just cover over the roots? * Schedule a pedicure or just throw some new polish over the old? To bring this back to writing... * Ignore feedback from beta readers, or accept every suggestion? Or, here's a thing. Maybe it's not really an either-or. Maybe you have a third option, or even a fourth. Okay, not so much for the hair color, but with your toenails, yes. Your third option could be a home pedicure, something a little more thorough than throwing new polish on top of old, but less time-consuming or expensive than a salon pedicure. Similarly, you don't have to accept feedback from beta readers. You don't have to reject it, either. You can evaluate what you've heard and decide what you think brings your work closer to what you want it to be. And do those things. Or not. And maybe finding "the right choice" is just doing what best fits your life right now , that helps you le...

This isn't about Glamour the magazine, though I loved it both long before and long after I was the age of their target demographic. It's about something that appears in The New Yorker every week on the page with their guide to who's playing where in the city.  Can't quite read it? (Sorry for the bad photo.) Underneath ROCK AND POP, it says, "Musicians and night-club proprietors lead complicated lives; it's advisable to check in advance to confirm engagements." There was a time when this small statement would have represented, to me, the height of glamour. I mean, for The New Yorker to issue a public excuse for the complicated nature of my life! To be given carte blanche to be unreliable--even irresponsible--by the magazine of the intelligentsia of THE most glamorous city. The smart set, the jet set, the rat pack, the brat pack. Like that. My idea of glamour has changed. Or rather, maybe I've outgrown the whole concept, in the same wa...

So I'd written a big long thing but I just deleted it all, because here is the important stuff. Last night I went to the Thunder Pride Literary Night. Here's a link to the event , which was absolutely wonderful--good writing from near and far in a supportive environment. Because sometimes it's okay to stay home and take care of things in your own life. To be an ally in name; to listen, but from afar. And sometimes, it's important to show up, and listen in person.