I just finished Ordinary Hazards by Nikki Grimes – and it is one of my most favorite books. By the end, tears welled. It is a beautiful, riveting book that just fills your heart.

I want to share a couple:

“Course Correction”

When the paper
landed back on my desk,
scarred with the letter B,
I nearly choked.
‘Excuse me,’ I said, barely civil,
there seems to be some mistake.’
‘How so?’ asked Mrs. Wexler.
‘Well, I’ve never gotten less than an A
on any composition. Ever.’
‘Really?’
She was clearly unimpressed.
‘Class, please take out.
Catcher in the Rye
and read silently.’
I reached for my book,
thinking her quite rude
for cutting off our conversation.
‘Not you, Miss Grimes,’
said Mrs. Wexler.
‘I need to see you for a moment.’
And she waved me over
to her desk.
Offensive paper in hand,
I went forward.
‘Miss Grimes,’ said she,
once I stood before her.
‘If this were written
by anyone else in this class,
it would have garnered an A.
However, you clearly have
a talent for writing
that you are not yet using
to the full.
If you want an A from me,
Miss Grimes, you’ll have to
apply yourself, dig in, and do
the very best writing
of which you are capable –
and nothing less.
Understood?’
I managed a nod
and a bit of a stutter.
‘That will be all,’
said Mrs. Wexler.

“Candle in the Dark”

The Prophet
warmed my pocket.
I carried that tea-stained,
dog-earred paperback
everywhere I went.
The sheer muscular light
of Khalil Gibran’s language
made me want to be him
on the inside,
made me long to
chisel away the dark,
wielding sharp,
light-bringing words
of my own.

– Nikki Grimes

“Chisel away the dark” –

I had a teacher in fifth grade that said, “Keep writing.”

I had an English teacher in Brandon, MN that said: “I think poetry is your strongest, keep writing.”

My professor in my undergrad, while handing in my last essay, looked over the rim of her glasses, and said: “You need to do something with your writing.”

I know I have said this, but I am in awe of people’s stories. What they have been able to overcome.

In this relatively small class, we have had stories with folks dealing with ulcerative colitis, cancer, a blood disorder that is a cousin to sickle cell, cleft lip, and palate. A former vet for the Gulf War. Loss of a sister while in childbirth, poverty, love, love-loss, and life – the expansion of it. People write so eloquently. It is just beautiful.

It was my turn last Monday. I was in the hot seat for 45 minutes while the class and professor discussed my piece; strengths, weaknesses, and the big between. Later I get written critiques as well.

The time I got there, I was like, “Okay, take a breath.” The professor directs you to read a portion he selects out loud to the class. Okay.

It went well overall, but I missed things like  “dough,” versus “doe;” passed versus past, things like that. You just can’t see it.

You are not allowed to speak during the 45 minutes. You can only speak at the end. This is the classic constructed, known way for fiction, poetry, or any creative writing workshop. You have to take criticism and take it well. It is the way you grow.

Phew – onto the next! Happy when I was out of the hot seat. “Why in the fuck do I do this?”

I had an individual meeting with my professor to follow-up; it is part of his teaching method.

He said, “This piece has a future,” and he emphasized that he wants to help me get it out there.

He gave me some further direction. We went over the piece line-by-line. This is all new writing, never written before, and I tried it out. Some of it worked, some pulled away from the piece. It’s good to play with words.

We chatted for almost an hour, and in the end, he said: “Keep writing.”

Encouragement – we all need it.
A nudge, an invitation
to a play, theater, dance,
music composition;
another set of eyes,
a book, or many books,
a “Guess what – I saw this,
thought you may be interested.”

Each moment imprints on your spirit. We collect these moments. and if we keep working they may grow into a world we can only dream.

But – it still comes from you; the intention, the work, and the follow-through.

Remember the 10,000 rule – I am not there yet. I don’t think so.

Just keep cranking on that spark that doesn’t dull; in times when the night becomes quiet; in the morning when you have a moment; in the minutes sprinkled throughout each hour.

Find that place, in the once closet, now your space to create; in that nook for you and you alone. Grab a blanket, your favorite cup, and crank it out. Find those pockets, pockets, pockets full of time.

Much love. Please stay well.

I have so many favorites of these, it is tough to choose.