Del Martin–Activist & Risktaker
Del Martin
May 5, 1921- August 27, 2008
Del Martin and Phyllis Lyon were partners for over 50 years. Martin died this past week at the age of 87 after a life-time as activist campaigning for the rights of women and lesbians.
Shortly after moving in with my female lover, I found the couple in a book entitled Women Together: Portraits of Love, Commitment, and Life. I was euphoric and confused by my new found status as lesbian and delighted to find a book with beautiful images of female couples.
No such book existed when Del and Phyllis were new lovers, but they paved the way for the kind of books I found in libraries and books stores when I first came out.
The two women were journalists. They were writers and human beings who spoke honestly and bravely in a time when such frankness was risky. Julie Enszer writes an in depth tribute to Martin on her blog if you’d like to know more about this remarkable woman. For my part, I simply want to emulate this pioneer in speaking the truth.
May I always choose honesty over safety.
May I remember Del Martin in moments when my confidence wavers.
photo of Phyllis and Del from: www.women-vision.org
Family and friends gathered at Brentwood Lake to celebrate Huck’s 5th birthday. The kids played in the water and in the sand before having pizza and then playing some more. While the big kids had water fights and swam to rafts, the little kids took turns on the play structure and were pushed on the swings.
Then it was time for the pinata, followed by cake and gifts. You can see some of the fun in the slide show:
We left the lake when there was barely enough light to pack up, sandy and sated with birthday good cheer.
In 1997, my friend Christine and I decided to form a writers’ group of two. We were both fledgling writers who recognized our mutual need for support and encouragement. We met every other week at the Pie Tin, often at 7am but sometimes a little later in the morning. We would read each other’s work, do free-writes together, share books, or try out writing prompts we’d found. We enrolled in a correspondence course in Creative Writing from the University of Iowa and read each other’s pieces before sending them off.
After several years of meeting, Christine was writing a novel and I’d enrolled in an MFA program. We decided that we needed to expand our network, and we each invited another writer and so become a group of 4. When Arlyn and Joan joined us, we got more focused and formalized a very effective critique group protocol. Christine’s commitment to her book-length project provided the motivation that I needed to step away from writing personal essays and start my own book.
To gain momentum on our book projects, Christine and I went away for 7 days in 2002 and stayed in a cabin at a rustic resort in Philo, CA. For the entire 7 days, we invoked a no-talking rule, except for during an evening check-in and our mid-day walk. We wanted to get lots of work done and we did! Christine finished the first draft of her novel that week and I transcribed about 10 audio-tapes for my book and completed an outline for the rest of my project.
Sometime after this, Christine moved to San Francisco and Joan had health issues that forced her to drop out of our group. Arlyn and I invited two more writing friends to the group, and I forged ahead on my book. Christine and I stayed in contact, talking occasionally on the phone or meeting for tea when she was in town. She had put her novel aside after taking a playwriting class and had begun work on a script. I was working on the third, then fourth, and finally the fifth revision of my book.
Then this summer a remarkable thing happened. The publication of my book, Between Two Women, coincided with the production of her play “Unforgettable.” The weekend of my book launch at the Opera Hall, Christine’s play was being produced at Black Bart Players Theater in Murphys. This was not a planned occurrence, though the simultaneity was undoubtedly inevitable.
Our writers’ journeys are entwined in time and space. On one marvelous weekend, we shared the fear and elation of making our work public. We smiled with joy and a deep sense of accomplishment. Today we have a tea date to consider the next steps in our writing adventures.
I must admit that a long line of people stretching away from a book signing table can sure make a writer feel like an author!
Beyond that snaking line, Book Launch Day was amazing in so many ways. The gathering of friends and family from near and far was sheer delight: Raymond & Bonnie, my brothers, my son, my mother’s best friend, Cindy’s parents, sister & nephew, colleagues from the college, friends from the gym, yoga, meditation, the community and my new freelance business. There were friends of Carol’s that I’d never met, along with many of the writers I’ve worked with over the years in various groups. Those who lived too far away to come sent best wishes. My sister sent yellow roses which adorned the podium and friends from Antioch sent cards! My cyber friends sent email cards and posted announcements on their blogs.
The room was elegant, with slants of sunlight pouring through the Opera Hall windows to accent Marianne’s astute plan for decorating and arranging the room. The food was phenomenal in no small part because of the women in the kitchen–most notably Cindy’s mom and sister– cutting, chopping, and warming the delicious array. Bartenders Cynthia and Ilana were dressed in ruffled tuxedo shirts with purple adornments. The two kept the wine, beer, and soda flowing with their smiling good cheer. As folks arrived they conscientiously worked on the Trivia Quiz after signing the guest book.
When those assembled gathered for the start of the program, my dear friend Morgan charmed everyone with a warm and witty introduction. I stayed grounded for my part with the exception of a cracking voice and a few tears when I thanked Culley for underwriting the publication of the book. The audience laughed and clapped and played along competitively when we checked the quiz for winners. And wouldn’t you know it, Raymond won the grand prize! The applause at the end included calls for Carol which brought her to the stage as everyone stood to acknowledge her bravery and their love!
While people gathered around the chocolate fondue, visited in little clusters, and enjoyed the mingle-music from a playlist compiled by Andrea, I signed books and basked in congratulatory remarks. What an amazing reward after five years spent writing the book and another three trying to get it published. Cindy sat nearby selling books to the folks who then stepped into the signing line. I’ve never had so many hugs and kisses in one day . . . I’m filled to the brim with sweet regard.
Come back tomorrow for a post about simultaneity . . .
ph
A common practice among bloggers is identifying and annotating the blogs they have been reading that might also be of interest to their readers. Sometimes this is done on a regular basis, say every Saturday, and sometimes it is the feature of particular topic the blog writer is addressing. I love this practice, not only because it extends the conversation but also because it leads me places I might not otherwise have gone. I haven’t yet decided how I will integrate “a carnival” of blogs into Editeyes, for I’d like it to emerge organically as the blog and I grow together.
Today, however, I am pointing directly to Misplaced Misfit, which appears on my blog roll. Keiti, who is Ms Misfit, is a cyber friend who has graciously, and I might add insightfully, interviewed me in the context of a blog tour — a kind of virtual book tour. Keiti, who lives in Florida, has timed the posting of her interview to coincide with the west coast launch of my book which will take place August 23 in Sonora, California.
To learn more about Between Two Women, please visit Keiti’s blog during the next few days.
Cindy and I keep a pretty tidy house, but over the past few weeks things have gotten out of control. When we came home from our respective day’s work yesterday, what we saw was pretty intolerable: piles of unread newspapers, magazines, and mail; half emptied boxes and bags from my trip to Baker station; Cindy’s car-tote with all of her work related paraphernalia; piles of videos she’d acquired from free-cycle; bags and bags of decorations and other stuff for the book launch; all of my DSP&S review materials spread on the dining room table. The counter was strewn with Baker Station notes, my unfinished grade report, a Paperback book swap mailer that needed attention; unfilled prescriptions and empty supplement bottles, change for the change jar, and two broken micro-tape-recorders from work on the Columbia College memory project. In the laundry room, there were piles of campfire smoked blankets and clothing waiting to be washed once the clean laundry on top of the dryer was put away. Our offices each had their own unique messes of un-attended business. The floors were gritty with tracked in debris–smashed oleander blossoms, grass cuttings, sand and dirt from camp boxes, not to mention drips of liquid antibiotic from Cindy’s attempts to medicate Ebby in my absence (that’s my job and she failed miserably while I was gone).
Without speaking a word, we looked at each other and commenced a BLITZ: a 20-minute work-as-fast-as-you-can session to get things orderly. After 20 minutes when things were looking pretty darn good, she grabbed the vacuum and I the broom and after another 10 minutes we were sitting in a reasonably clean house once again. WHEW!
In her book Writing Down the Bones, Natalie Goldberg has a chapter called “Be Specific” in which she tells writers about the importance of naming:
Give things the dignity of their names. . . It is much better to say “geranium in the window” than “flower in the window.” . . . When we know the name of something, it brings us closer to the ground. It takes the blur out of our mind; it connects us with the earth . . . Learn the name of everything.
As a teacher, I instruct my students to use concrete nouns in order to give their writing substance. But what if the job is to bestow a name upon something, like a child or a pet or a blog? Dignity originates in the giving of the name.
We went through 4 names before we settled on Tweety as the right and most dignified name for our cat– a tiny svelte creature who was at once feisty and comical. When naming something, the intent is to get the right fit. But a name should also provide useful information. Tweety is small, courageous, and more than a tad goofy, just like her namesake Tweety Bird.
In the world of business, naming is called branding, for it is a marketing method that sends a message to the consumer, a promise about what can be expected. Branding is important enough to writing enterprises that Kristen over at the Inkthinker blog is hosting a branding bootcamp in upcoming weeks.
Editeyes is a business blog, a place were I wish to sell my credibility as a writer and attract a readership who will not only find worthwhile information but who are interested in creating relationships around the issue of writing. Though I can’t honestly say I was thinking about branding when naming this blog Editeyes, I knew that I wanted the name to send several messages along with a clear promise to address these points:
- We write with our eyes and our ears (and nose, tongue and skin too). As a name, Editeyes plays with sight and sound to convey this message;
- The playful spelling and atypical use of the suffix in Editeyes is a purposeful way to communicate the intent of this blog to explore the edges of writing “right.”
- The editing and revising stages of writing are essential and can be satisfying as well as insightful. The message in the name Editeyes is that I value this stage of the writing process.
Tell me what you think of the name Editeyes. What was your first impression? Did it change after reading this post? Be honest. Writing has so much to do with audience, so I want to know what you are thinking.
When you grow up in a large family, it’s not unusual to look for a niche in the hope of establishing an identity uniquely your own. The niche or identity that I assumed as a child in a family of 5 kids was athlete or in today’s terms: the jock. My sister was the creative one–the writer, the musician, the artist, and to my way of thinking the free thinker. So I was well into my 40s before I allowed myself to write outside of the formal boxes of academic and technical pieces.
Around that time, I remember being surprised when a young colleague called himself a poet. He hadn’t even finished college, and yet his self-image allowed him a title that seemed evocative. At the same, a small delight found it’s way to my hands: a wonderful personal essay by another colleague. It was a touching piece about his parent’s wedding anniversary that brought tears to my eyes. Though these were minuscule events in the greater scheme of my life, the two incidents managed to break through the hard identity I held of myself as jock and technical writer. Suddenly in what felt like a recklessly unparalleled gesture, I signed up for a 6-week long creative writing workshop.
I was a nervous wreck on the morning of the first class quite certain I was going to be totally out of my element. When the teacher handed us velvety green wisteria pods and told us to hold, touch and study them intimately, I truly enjoyed the pregnant wonder of my pod. But when she told us to write about what we’d discovered, I shuddered with confusion. I was used to writing memos and curriculum and project plans. What could I write about a wisteria pod?
I finished that workshop and then signed up for a second session and later went on to attend numerous creative writing classes and workshops over the next few years, but it was a long time before my pen moved freely on the page confident that what poured forth would have merit and might even be juicy or touching or scary.
It’s no small feat to take a risk and forget how to “write right.” I’m still pushing the edges of my comfort zone, trying to squeak through locked doors and slide around monstrous hurdles.
Today, I’m undertaking the risky business of launching a blog about writing. There are many such blogs out there, some of which I read regularly and have listed in the blog roll to the right. I want to be part of the conversation they are having and add my perspective, be it complementary, unique, or challenging. My goal is to attract readers who are exploring their edges and who will jump in with daring comments that make all of us think.
Come back again for the 2nd post when I will write about my blog’s name–Editeyes–and consider the risks of naming.
As Cherie and I were packing up after our class at Baker Station, she said to me: “And we get paid for this!” Indeed, it was hard to believe that we were getting paid for a blissful weekend in the high country with 20 enthusiastic and engaged students who spent 2 full days writing furiously and performing powerful yoga asanas.
I could write so much about the wonders of the weekend, but I have to turn my attention to the next two huge remaining projects for August: the Columbia College memory book and my own book launch. So I’m just going to post a couple of pictures that give a tiny taste of the weekend and conclude by saying how grateful I am for the opportunity to teach with Cherie in such an idyllic setting.
The pictures in this order are:
1. Warrior 2 atop a rock formation
2. Mindfulness practice while designing a fruit plate
3. My sleeping spot
4. The view UP from my sleeping spot
No pictures of folks writing as I was working then and too engaged to remember to snap a photo but believe me this group did a lot of writing.
I’m heading to Baker Station to co-teach a yoga/creative writing workshop entitled “Embodying the Flow.” The setting is rustic and refreshing with towering pines and granite backdrop. This is a picture of the dormitory cabin where many of the participants stay. This year, I’m opting to camp out in the woods behind the station.
My co-teacher Cherie leads the yoga part in a little cabin that we call the “Ripening Room,” while my venue is outside in what we call the Gathering Circle.
Combining body work with writing is not something we invented, but we think the opportunity to do this work in the incomparable Sierra Nevada is unique. In addition to a yoga hike, one of the exercises is focused on mindfully cutting and eating fruit. Here is a creation from last year. After eating the fruit, the next step is to take the juicy experience to the page and try to make it as marvelous in writing as it was in the doing.
We have great fun– stretching, journaling, hiking, breathing deeply and eating well. Watch for a full report upon my return.
My Blog
Twilightme.My Books
Non-fiction books.