Schedule and Location

Our group meets on the first and third Wednesday of each month at the Nokomis Fire Station. From Sarasota or North, proceed a few blocks south of Albee Road on US 41 (past Matthews-Currie Ford) to Pavonia Road. Turn right (West, toward the bay) at the Fire Station's flashing yellow caution traffic light. From the south on US 41, we are two blocks north of Dona Bay. Turn left onto Pavonia Road at the flashing yellow caution light. At the Fire Station, drive to the fire hall's far end or west side; PLEASE DO NOT BLOCK THE FIRE DEPARTMENT DOORS! We gather in the training room at the far end of the complex for a meet and greet at 6:00 pm but call the Meeting to order at 6:30 pm and take a Ten-minute break at around 7:50 pm. Meeting Adjourns: 9:00 pm
Showing posts with label James O. Kelly. Show all posts
Showing posts with label James O. Kelly. Show all posts

Thursday, May 07, 2015

May 6th, 2015 Meeting

While we had only thirteen attendees at the Wednesday, May 6th, 2015, meeting of the Sarasota Writers Group, seven of whom were FWA members, we had a really great meeting. FWA members J. Jeff Cochran published his "Caught in a Past Reflection," and Pamela Schuneman, CPA, published an article in the professional Journal of Accountancy. Pamela also had a short story included in the 2015 Savannah Anthology called Sailboats. Long time member Kathleen McMahon Schwartz, whose new book "Stay the Night," handed out her new business cards as her new book is now available on Amazon. Congratulations to Kathleen, Jeff and Pam, hopefully the beginnings of long and prosperous writing careers.

We welcomed three new guests, Kristen Fisher, Debra Muenchow, and Bruce Heidrich, and got to hear the prologue from Debra's work in progress. It appears she is off to a really good start. Bruce is already an established author with The Fifth Generation War, Dead on the Fourth, Trump Card, Ghost, and The Locket. Bruce is the creator of the Dan Marin mystery series. Welcome to our new guests and we hope we offer the environment you are looking for.

We had nine readers, from humorous pieces about growing beards to FWA member Peter Frickel's marvelous reading from his piece, The River. We wrapped up a little after nine and turned out the lights. Next meeting: May 20th, 2015.

While we all enjoy the varied and multi-genre readings of the group, the highlight for me is always the poetry of Jim Kelly. Jim's work with the elementary students in the area is always a delight, and while we don't have the winner's poems from a recent 5th grade poetry contest he read to the group that delighted everyone, I do have one of Jim's earlier pieces, written in a metre he no longer uses, and I have his permission to use Depth of Love, written in 1996.

Depth of Love

How am I to measure love
and the tenderness we knew,
as I pace the lonely nights
you spend with someone new?

Shall I count the hidden tears
that hurt too much to fall,
while injured pride traps me inside
to face those barren walls?

How am I to measure love
in days that never end.
when all the years that meant the most
have left me "just a friend"?

I can't forget the unkind words
I know you didn't mean,
the ones that fill my empty glass
with shards of broken dreams.

How am I to measure love
when all the pain is through?
I guess I'll add the best of times
to the memories of you

©James O. Kelly
Englewood, FL
Jan 1996

As George Collias reminds us from Earnest Hemingway: "Write drunk, edit sober," Or was it Dylan Thomas? I don't remember.

George

Sunday, December 29, 2013

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Tables were laden with all sorts of goodies and treats... Cookies, cakes, pies, finger foods...even champagne and coffee!

Yep. You guessed it! This Wednesday was our Christmas Holiday Party!
 
This is a special day at Sarasota Writers.... We bring our loved ones and introduce them to the other folks who are helping us chase our dreams and pushing us to grow and be better in our writing.
 
The first part of our meeting was spent chatting, hugging, and sharing our best holiday wishes with one another....and then we got down to business.
 
Don Westerfield kicked us off with a Christmas poem he'd written that called to mind warmth, comfort and love.
 
Kitt Crescendo read a poem on behalf of George Collias, author of Myahmuh: a Novel of Miami, Florida and Sandspurs: Limericks by a Native Floridian. I'm posting it below for the enjoyment of those from the group who weren't able to be there to appreciate his playful wittiness.
 
The Night Before Christmas (with apologies to Clement Moore)
 
'Twas the night before Christmas and at the Nokomis F.D.
All the writers were stirring, except maybe me.
 
I had over-eggnogged it before the meeting,
And at the moment my head was taking a beating.
 
We had all ordered pizza as energy for the night,
And the growling of stomachs had grown to its height.
 
Kitt began speaking, I think about IMAX,
Or it could have been something that sounded like climax?
 
Peter had a new book and he gave a great talk,
I knew if I had to follow him I'd just have to walk.
 
JoAnne read some good stuff about sailing and boats,
I roused myself and began taking illegible notes.
 
When from the parking lot we heard a noise so shrill,
Had the pizza guy's car hit my Honda Fit's grill?
 
Then there crashed through the door a man who, for some reason,
Was dressed all in red - was Dominos observing the season?
 
Over his shoulder this bearded guy had a huge sack,
There was surely enough pizza there to feed our whole pack.
 
George shouted "Food!" and tackled the guy,
Rod ripped his bag open and yelled, "Where is the pie?"
 
We all crowded over him, looking for eats,
Any pizza would do whether vegetarian or meats.
 
We found dolls and trucks, zombies and plastic pheasants,
But there was no food inside, only lots of crummy presents.
 
Then the man in red bellowed, "I'm not the pizza guy with yummies!
Don't you know Santa Claus when you see him, you dummies?"
 
We were astonished and pleaded, "We're sorry!" and more,
But dragging his bag, he stormed through the door.
 
We saw him mount a sleigh and yell, "Go!" to his deer,
Then they all flew away - let me tell you, that was queer.
 
We were sure he'd be back with toy trains and fudge,
For Santa's not known for holding a grudge.
 
But we heard him exclaim as he clutched his torn cap,
"If you think I'll be back next year, you're all full of crap."
 
Megan Brown was back from college and read a peace she'd written for the holiday. Although it was untitled, it was definitely full of the Christmas spirit: Peace, the Christmas Tree and what it symbolizes, celebration, joy and gifts. It really was quite lovely.
 
Ernie Ovitz took us to his newest Work In Progress, a sequel to The Seventh King. In this piece we are introduced to Nicholas, Bishop of Myre. He's been teaching the young children of the Roman empire. He's looking on as they play, enjoying their innocence and joy...and very concerned about what lies ahead. Why was this appropriate for Christmas time? Because that Bishop later becomes Saint Nicholas.... We all thought it was a really cool historical tie to the night.
 
 
Jim Kelly, author of From The Ember and the Place shared some of the poetry from the 5th grade class at Englewood Elementary where he spends some time helping to draw out the out-of-the-box thinkers and poets in the fertile minds of the younger generation. Their work under his guiding hand is truly impressive.
 
 
Beth Rice, author of I'm Adopted, I'm Special and Animal Tales blog, made a triumphant return to our group after a several week hiatus. She announced that one of her pieces had been published in the Florida Writers Association's official publication, The Florida Writer! If you have a subscription, you'll find her poem (untitled) on page 33.
 
 
Author of Adventures of a Sea Hag, JoAnne Phillips, shared a poem she wrote entitled "My Perfect Man." This poem talked about the fact that the perfect man isn't always perfect in appearances, but in the way he treats her, the respect he shows her...and all the other intangibles that matter so much in a long termed relationship. It was quite romantic in the way that true unconditional love can be.
 
Kerri Dieffenwierth made the fantastic announcement that she'll be teaching at State College of Florida where she'll have the opportunity to create her own curriculum to inspire and teach in composition. We know she's going to be a rock star. (Some of us maybe even mentioned coming to sit in on her classes...)
After much discussion about our next meeting, we decided to forego our first meeting in January as everyone would rather be celebrating New Years Day watching football or enjoying family. We will reconvene on Wednesday, January 15, 2014.
 
Happy New Year, Everyone!


Saturday, October 05, 2013

Wednesday September 18, 2013 Meeting

Sorry for the delay, everyone. I know we're a meeting behind, but we'll have everything caught up by the end of this week. Life has been a bit hectic as of late...but I figured better late than never!

As usual, Rod DiGruttolo did a great job moderating our meeting.

We were thrilled to welcome back Jim Kelly from his hiatus to the north, so we asked him to kick off our meeting. As usual, he didn't disappoint. First he shared a letter Irv Newman had written to a woman named Gail at the local paper from his home area of Surf City, NJ called The Sandpaper. In this letter he discussed how grateful he was to hospice and that it had extended his life.  Recently they gave his wife the gift of 5 days off by coming to care for him so she could enjoy some free time. He donated his car and some money to Tidewell Hospice to thank them. In fact, as I wrote this blog and linked in Tidewell, I saw that Irv's story is featured on their website. As it's a YouTube Link, I thought you guys might want to see...


Jim ended his time with a poem he wrote while back at his old stomping grounds called "Goin' Home". It clearly depicted change...and how through the years, it's virtually impossible for anything to stay the same. I would have posted the poem, but I didn't get a chance to ask Jim for permission.

Ed Ellis shared a piece called "I Wish" as he celebrated his 50th anniversary from military discharge as well as honored those we lost on 9/11. In his piece he took a somber moment to reflect on war and make a wish for the wisdom of those who came before us. It was heartfelt and definitely a more sensitive side to our smarty pants prankster....but moving.


JoAnne Phillips, author of Adventures of a Sea Hag, read a chapter called "Religion and Communism" from her new work in progress, The Matrix of Life. In this chapter she talked about picking out a Christmas tree, befriending a goat named "Billy" who she treated as her pony and being a time of love and laughter. Her parents reconciled and remarried in the spring, moving them into a one bedroom storefront in town where the store window was painted to prevent people from being able to see inside. This was also when she was first introduced to McCarthyism. It didn't take any stretch of the imagination for anyone in the group to figure out that this spelled trouble for the precocious, young JoAnne....and we were right.

Pat Patterson came up next. Rather than read from his manuscript The Takers, he shared some valuable insights he's gained in his writing journey. He realized that editing is not exactly what he thought it was. Once he completed writing his manuscript, he made the assumption (incorrectly) that he could hire an editor, get the editor to unravel the "tangled ball of yarn" that was his story and fix his errors, then receive his work, ready for publication. Instead, he found that errors are costly and that it's never a good idea to send a first draft off to an editor. The time to submit to an editor is when you've polished it as much as you possibly can and you need some assistance on the finer points. So, he printed off a chapter and handed it to the group with a request for feedback and support.

Don Westerfield went back to his poetry roots with two pieces. One was called ODE to SEA GRASS which was a lovely piece that brought us back to nature and our small part in it. The other one got folks talking, so I thought I'd share it here. (We also learned the difference between an elegy and a eulogy. ;-))

then will the trees sing
wandered long
have i these mortal woods
down worn trails of tears and laughter
step by searching step i trod
pathways that split and split again
those chosen roads of faulted time
soon to forget my passage
but if ever the soul survives
the strife of its mere existence
these woods will always know the truth
as the breath of life expends
when evening is nigh
then will the trees sing
my elegy
Kitt Crescendo finally shared the beginning to one of her works in progress, Three For All. She needed to read it out loud in front of an audience to hear some spots that might be a bit rough. She was able to pick a couple of errors out for herself, and with the help of the team, also caught a couple of repetitive words. Someone also commented that there seemed to be a lot of body parts slipping on each other thanks to the suntan oil. We weren't sure whether or not that was necessarily a bad thing as she is writing an erotic piece.
Asha Anderson came one last time before she headed off to Asia for a year. She and her lovely poetry will be missed, but we have high hopes that once she returns from her adventures abroad, that she will come find us again. In a writing class back in Ashland, OR 1988, she was challenged to write a piece with a specific subject in mind. This is the poem I elected to post because the playful whimsy drew me in...and I could almost hear a Scottish or Irish accent reading the piece.
YELLOW SHOES

When I had feet me shoes were yellow
ah yellow as pollen they were
as bright as lemons
bright as me lad's smile
bold as his laugh
an oh how I danced in me shoes
all night
a swarm a bees drunk from the flowers
sportin their yellow pants an boots
knew not as many turns as me lad an me
not have as many

an when in the slow river a bare foot
we went a wadin me lad an me
an bare we were from toe to head
a hand an hand
me yellow shoes were glad to wait
all hodge podge with his
for shoes has no need a feet
though feet has a need a them
but now   old as I be   I has no need a shoes
not yellow   not brown
but glad I am   glad as I was when I was a lass
for I got me a lad   an I rather him than me feet.

Ernie Ovitz went next, sharing more from his work The Seventh King. In this chapter, Theodorus is thrown into jail for his beliefs in Christianity. He attempts to continue sharing his message only to realize he's not alone in his cell and that the other guy, hidden by shadows, is a bit scary. Ernie left us wondering as to the identity of the mystery man and how he ties to the unrest that seems to be steadily increasing with every chapter.

Jenny Oberg, inspired by the work of Deepak Choprah, wrote a piece of nature poetry that sparked some spunky debate amongst her listeners. Jenny wrote her piece about majestic creatures from awed eyes, pointing out how although many of them appear the same, they're all different. Some of the listeners find beauty in the Darwinistic tendencies of animals and the very literal and real battles that occur in nature. Others felt just as passionately that they'd rather see it from a starry-eyed, idealistic vision of grace and majesty.

Barry Mick took our feedback from the previous meeting and touched up his work in progress, roughly titled "Dragonfly".  The general feedback was that the flow of the story now had a nice, smooth rhythm. We look forward to hearing more about his dragonfly...as the feeling that it is symbolic for something much deeper comes through loud and clear.


Beth Rice, Author of I'm Adopted, I'm Special along with her blog, Animal Tales, read a very powerful chapter she called "Job Hunt" from her work in progress, Pawprints Are Forever. In it, we find the heroine at a plant nursery, reminiscing about joyful times spent there with  her family and quickly realize that it had been her family's business. Heartbroken, they are closing the doors for the last time. In their line of work, it was virtually impossible to compete with the big business companies. It's also the first time she sees her husband, the man who has always been her rock, completely devastated. As she'd been discussing creating a hook and positioning of her book, we firmly felt that THIS should be her beginning...and a very strong hook. This part definitely left many of us emotionally impacted and devastated on the protagonist's behalf.

One of our newer members, Patrick Hurley, finally decided to be bold and stepped forward to read a character sketch he'd written about a female character from the island of Petite Marie known only as Patrice. Beautiful and a bit mercenary, she'll do whatever it takes to avoid becoming an average local. She wants power and wealth and she's willing to do whatever it takes to get there...including a bit of drug trafficking. This character definitely has a lot of potential. We can't wait to see how she is weaved into the plot he's creating in his head.

Andrew Parker ended our meeting in his inimitable fashion, by introducing us to his newest work in progress that he is tentatively calling I'm Drunk and I'm Calling From A Payphone In London. The unique creation occurred when he'd passingly mentioned it in a profile he'd created for himself, causing a reader to email him asking where he could purchase this book as it sounded very interesting. True to Andrew's personality, he decided to make the story a reality. In the first chapter we're introduced to a drunk homeless man named George Lissman who'd fallen on hard times after his inability to quit alcohol caused him to lose his job as a conductor for an orchestra. Every night he sits in a bar where he drinks, then drunk dials random phone numbers. On this particular night, someone answered... Her name is Jacqueline Aurora. Let's just say that hilarity ensued. Once Andrew finished reading, everyone was leaving with either a belly ache or wiping away tears.

Thanks again to everyone for their wonderful contributions!

Monday, March 25, 2013

Diner

As promised:  Jim Kelly's "Diner"

Stools swivel through breakfast traffic--
doers and procrastinators
poised for the ride.

Hazel darts between cups, filled with idle time,
and counter tops
rubbed raw by friendly service

Sunny-side-ups lisp atop a stainless stage;
bacon strips sizzle
like lines in a gossip column.

Oohs and ahs emanate from a corner booth; 
an old man lifts his shirt,
assigns numbers to stitches in his scar.

At a table for two, a widower stares into the past, 
blurry eyes fumbling with words--
"A Kiss to Build a Dream On."

Businessmen jostle into slots at the big table,
a sacred place reserved for self-indulgence, 
where subtle glances measure all the women.

Morning disappears
among toast crumbs and gratuities
scattered in the wake of satisfaction.

A chickadee fidgets on the porch railing, 
tips his black cap to diners
dragging bacon scent down the street. 

____________________________________________
Thank You! to Jim Kelly for permission to print Diner

James O. Kelly Englewood, FL 02/14/13