Thrilled to share I’ve been selected to be a part of the AWP Writer to Writer Mentorship Program. The program is designed to pair emerging writers with experienced authors. I’ll be working one-on-one with author Emily Maloney. I’m very excited Emily chose to work with me and help me hone my craft, explore the writing life, guide me in submissions and applications, and navigate the arduous path of attempting to publish my almost-finished manuscript. This program is a gift to emerging writers and is serendipitous timing for me. The annual AWP Conference is in Portland, Oregon this year, just a short drive south from Seattle. It will be my first time at the conference, and I’m looking forward to connecting with my mentor in person, enjoying the many lectures and programs offered by AWP, and even do an offsite reading of my own work. I’m grateful to AWP for the opportunity to expand my writing skills and connect with an experienced mentor. Also looking forward to collaborating with my cohort of mentees and the broader Writer to Writer community. Writing often feels like a solitary pursuit, and it is fraught with recurrent rejection. It’s nice to find acceptance, affirmation and encouragement through mentorship and a cohort of exceptional emerging writers.
Autumn YAWP
For the second year in a row, I’m attending Centrum’s Autumn YAWP (Your Alternative Writing Program). It’s quickly becoming a favorite retreat as it’s designed just for introverted writers like me. Late morning is an optional gathering for a communal free write, the rest of the day is for your own writing, revision, reading, and exploring.
The setting is serene and includes trails, beaches and modest comfortable accommodations at Fort Worden. Nearby Port Townsend provides plenty of cafes, restaurants and a wonderful bookstore and theater.
I have specific goals for the weekend, including developing a new syllabus for a Literature & Medicine program I’m leading for physicians, working on a book proposal for a new manuscript, and final edits on a poem I plan to submit soon. Grateful for the time and spaciousness of this place to read and write and rest.
Deadlines
I have several deadlines looming this week, so my regular posts have gone by the wayside. In addition to a final rewrite of this essay for an upcoming anthology, I also had a big assignment due for my Hugo House Finish Your Book class this week, as well as putting the final touches on my AWP Writer to Writer application. Not to mention a new narrative medicine program I’m getting off the ground this fall, modeled after Dr. Suzanne Koven’s Literature & Medicine program at Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston.
I wrote about grace with the blogging schedule and the importance of fluidity here, but I also want to stay true to my regular writing practice. Sometimes though, deadlines take precedence. Come back Monday, with deadlines in check and blissfully on vacation, for a new Narrative Medicine post!
Free Write Friday: Campo San Polo
Young children scamper across the square chasing balls, bold pigeons and unsuspecting tourists. I sit on a lacquered red bench under a low leafy tree, oblong salmon colored berries just beginning to sprout from its branches. The cover from the high afternoon sun is welcome.
Tourists stroll past with their Burano lace fans, their high-end shopping bags. A man with a walker all dressed in white leans forward as if about to fall over, as if about to kneel in prayer. A child sleeps in his mother’s arms as she reclines on the steps, a yellow bike leaning against the stone structure.
I should move on, get going. But it’s pleasant here, if a bit too noisy. I hear Italian and Russian dialects, I think. The occasional English words from a British or American tourist are too distracting but a foreign language doesn’t have the same effect; the musicality of their native tongues almost a background nicety.
Grey stones of irregular shapes make for uneven ground. The two boys jostling for a soccer ball, bouncing it against the sepia brick buildings, don’t seem to mind.
An elderly man shuffles across the square wearing cushioned sandals, a sky blue plaid cap. He turns, just barely, and shakes his head at something, I don’t know what. Maybe the crying child, maybe the rushed tourists. Maybe his own arthritic knees that are clearly causing him pain. He pauses for a moment as he looks over his shoulder, as if he’s taking it all in, as if he’s remembering something. Then he straightens, and hunches, and realizes it’s time to move on.
Buongiorno
I’m in Venice this week for a writing retreat, so instead of my usual posts I’ll be eating gelato, getting lost along the canals and writing in a lovely courtyard with some inspiring women. Ciao for now; I’ll be back with more free writes, prose and prompts soon!
(Re)Published: Dust
“…where are the moments of joy, of beauty, of grace within this doomsday path humans are on? From where or how do we come up with reasons that make it worthwhile to continue living? To rush out of our beds to greet the day? To smile? To laugh? Well, for me, these moments would occur through the positive interactions made possible by love and respect for other people, creatures and the environment…” – Eileen R. Tabios
Thrilled to announce that my collection of vignettes about my work in Kenya, Dust, will be part of an anthology published by Paloma Press this summer. Dust originally appeared in the Spring 2016 issue of Intima. The Paloma Press editor contacted me to inquire about including it in their upcoming book, Humanity. I’m honored to be among professors, poets, ethnographers and others who have contributed to this important work. More to come when the anthology launches this summer!
My Kind of People
I’m currently in Boston at Harvard’s Writing, Publishing, and Social Media for Healthcare Professionals conference. I’ve learned so much from the speakers, agents and editors here but one of the biggest benefits has been the networking opportunities. I’m part of an online group for physician writer mothers (totally my people, I know!) and though I’ve interacted with many of them virtually, it’s been a true pleasure to get to know them in person. What an amazing group of creative women doing incredible work in medicine and writing.
As with so many conferences I’ve attended, I’m inspired to write more, submit more, fine tune my book proposal and my pitch. Most of all, I’m encouraged to finish my books-in-progress. Writing and publishing a book is a marathon endeavor. I am not a creature of patience or a natural extrovert, but this process is teaching me endurance, humility and boldness. If you’re in healthcare and a writer I highly recommend this annual conference for tips, tools and inspiration.
Rhythm
I’ve been out of step, out of commission the past few weeks. I was incredibly ill over Easter weekend, had to cancel family events and it took my body a week to recover. I also was preoccupied with taking the medical board exam this week, a once in a decade test to maintain my license. My usual pattern of writing and blogging fell out of rhythm for the first time in two years.
I’m hoping to refocus, regain some footing now that I have other distractions behind me. Writing is essential to my life, my own self-care and purpose. I’ve been thinking a lot about rhythms of life, what is nourishing and essential, how different stages can be taxing in familiar ways.
Each month this year I’ve focused on a different area of personal growth. April is dedicated to the Sabbath, that sacred space of rest. I’ve always struggled with the concept of Sabbath and today’s nonstop rush of a world feeds into my tendency of devotion to productivity, to my To Do List, to my ambitions. I’m reading Wayne Muller’s “Sabbath“, which is a call to incorporating a rhythm of rest.
This may seem contrary to what I just wrote, about needing to re-establish my focus on writing, on my rigid rhythms. But I don’t think they’re actually incongruous, this need for structure, this necessity of rest. I want to avoid being legalistic about my schedule, but I also find comfort in boundaries, in a steady rhythm. Life brings so much unexpected upheaval. I don’t think it’s disingenuous to find peace in a plan that provides structure, that carves out time for that which is nourishing, which is restful.
What are your thoughts on rest? What rhythms of life do you find helpful or limiting? I will continue to explore this idea of Sabbath, but also return to my rhythms of writing in the hope that I’ll find peace both in learning to rest and in work that brings me fulfillment.
Narrative Medicine Monday: Creating a Clearing
In “Creating a Clearing,” storyteller Lance Weiler interviews the originator of Narrative Medicine, Columbia University’s Rita Charon. Charon describes how she ended up in medicine and primary care and the origins of the field of Narrative Medicine. She felt she was missing something as a physician from her formal medical training at Harvard. So instead she sought out the English Department: “I figured they were the ones on campus who knew something about listening to stories…” Her time there led to a PhD and, in her words, it taught her “how to be a doctor.”
Charon points out that we are all patients. What do you think of her idea that “we do not have to divide ourselves into mind on one side and body on the other or body on one side and self or personhood on the other, but instead we are all mortals inextricably bound to our bodies, our health, our frailties, our eventual mortality. This is how it is within that element that we don’t become ourselves, but [we] are ourselves”? Do you feel that the medical system tends to separate our bodies from our minds, from our personhood?
Charon explains how Narrative Medicine has grown over the years and now attracts all kinds of people in fields of health care, art, history and beyond. She states that the field of Narrative Medicine has “created a clearing,” a safe space for patients and clinicians and artists to “show people how to listen with great attention and respect.”
Charon describes how we’re traditionally trained as physicians to address a patient’s problem. Western Medicine is a disease model, focused on diagnosing, preventing or treating a problem. Charon takes a different approach. She first listens, focusing on what is important to the patient. I like how Charon begins: “I will be your doctor. I need to know a lot about your body, your health, your life. Tell me what you think I should know about your situation.”
She notes that both sides suffer from the typical patient-physician encounter: “[patients] come in armed with their list of questions that they’ve written down so as not to forget any in their precious twelve minutes, which is all they’re allotted. The clinician, on his or her side, is already looking at the wristwatch aware that there’s another three people in the waiting room waiting for what’s going to amount to the same brusk, impersonal, divided attention. So nobody’s getting what they want or need or desire or can benefit from.” Does this sound familiar to you? Are you hopeful, as is Charon, that if patients and clinicians lead on medical reform we can find a better way? What would that look like?
Writing Prompt: What skills do you find most helpful to listen to another person’s story? What would it be like as a patient to have a doctor ask you: “Tell me what you think I should know about your situation”? How would that question change the conversation? Think about what aspect of your training was most pivotal to teaching you how to be a doctor/nurse/physical therapist, etc. Are you surprised that for Charon it was her studies in English? Write for 10 minutes.
The Artist’s Way
At the beginning of the year, I stumbled into a group working through Julia Cameron’s prolific The Artist’s Way. The premise is that we’re all created to be creative, that along the way our artistic self becomes “blocked” and, through a process of exercises and exploration, we can unleash our underlying creativity, transforming our own life in the process. It’s an involved undertaking, which I tackled in characteristic too-fast-out-of-the-blocks fashion.
I had heard of Cameron’s book but didn’t know much of what it was about when I agreed to commit myself to the group and the process. I’ve found the “Morning Pages” Cameron endorses a cathartic free-form journaling that does serve to unearth our core stumbling blocks and greatest desires in life. I’m recalling previous passions and brainstorming ways I could incorporate these childhood joys into my adult life: writing and playing music, performing elaborate plays, detailed needlework, making bracelets, dancing.
I have to admit I was skeptical at first. Despite being a life-long journaler with a history of a strong spiritual faith, I initially found some of her observations and suggestions new-agey and impractical. What modern professional parent has time to write three pages every morning and take their inner artist on a weekly date? I’ve since come around, appreciating the thematic chapters and exercises, the encouragement and confidence instilled that we are all creative beings, most content and most ourselves when we find ways to weave artistry into our lives.