A Word of Warning...

I spent last weekend enjoying the absolutely beautiful weather and visiting wineries with my bestie, Jessi. One of our scheduled stops was in Seward, NE. I had heard from a fellow Nebraska Writers Guild member that there were writers in abundance speaking in Seward and I talked Jessi into going with me (like it took a lot of convincing).

Our first stop was at Chapter Books bookstore where Joe Starita gave a wonderful talk about his book A Warrior of the People, which is about Susan La Flesche, the first Native American doctor in American history (I'll be talking about it in a later post-I can't wait to read it!).

The second stop was just down the street at the Red Path Gallery & Tasting Room which is an adorable place full of amazing artwork done by local artists-like my former art teacher, Mrs. T (I'm not even going to attempt to spell her last name, it's longer and scarier than mine is-okay I'll give it a shot Tomasevicz... I had to look it up, I wasn't even close) and features many different Nebraska wines to sample. That day's events featured readings by poets Charlene Neeley and Laura Madeline Wiseman who shared both their own poetry and some of their favorites by other poets.

One of the poems Charlene Neely wrote and shared with us reminded me of a fairly well known fact: writers find inspiration everywhere. In this case it was the quote "Poets have been mysteriously silent on subject of cheese" by G.K. Chesteron that lead to a fun poem about cheese.

My family understands why that would stick with me and for the saner ones in the audience who don't know, it involves an article about the great Velveeta shortage of 2014 and subsequent cheese-smothered emails on the topic.

But back to the topic of inspiration, I've talked about it before, but I wanted to revisit it for the non-writers in the group.

And here is where the warning part comes in:

If you spend any time at all around a writer, I can nearly guarantee that something you say, one of your mannerisms, a physical feature you posses, or an event you witness with your writer will end up in one of their pieces.

Who knew the sign my sister gave me for my birthday a
couple of years ago would come in handy for a blog?

You just have to ask them. They'll probably tell you, unless it's embarrassing or they killed you off... or they hate you. In that case, back away slowly throwing chocolate and fancy pens.

Ask my bestie (poor transition, sorry Jessi), more than one of our conversations have ended up in my stories. I usually ask her first, just so she can't sue me someday when she comes to her senses and realizes she doesn't need a crazy-cat-lady-hermit in her life.

Artists, especially writers, are anthropologists by nature if not by education. They study people and everything is fodder for their creative fires.

You may have ended up in somebody's story because of what you ordered in the coffee shop one day, or are the heroine of an epic poem somebody penned because the sun hit you in just the right way and you were wearing your best chain mail-er- green dress.

Now be honest, because if you lie, you'll get stabbed.
#MedievalHumor

Now, I don't say this to make you think that writers are all creepy stalker people hiding in plain sight with their notebooks and pens, furiously scribbling down all the details of your life so they can write you doing anything they want because they thrive on the power of control... okay, not all of us do that... all of the time.

And I'm not telling you this so you know to be on your best behavior around writers so they don't use you in a story. First, they spend time with you because you're interesting. Second, how boring would that be for both you and them?

No, I'm telling you this because for that split second, a second that you probably don't even remember, a writer noticed you and for that one second, you became the most important thing in their universe.

This is one of the things I love most about being a writer, taking those tiny, innocuous moments and turning them into something immortal. Making a split second last an eternity.

That's right. I'm a friggin superhero.