Blogging in December

“My 1946 Smith-Corona Super-Speed” (photo by m.a.h. hinton)

December has arrived in the North Country. Not with the usual cold and snow this year. But warm and mild. We know the other proverbial shoe will drop, but for now we enjoy days of light jackets and sweatshirts.

My second-story office where I write has two large windows that look over our backyard and the dozen other backyards on our suburban block. On summer mornings it is light enough outside to enjoy the view of trees and birds. In winter, it is too dark for that until it is almost time to go to work.

Out of habit, even on weekends, I am usually up between 5:00 and 5:30 and sitting at my desk with my coffee trying my best to write.

I am not sure how it is for other writers, but for me this is my favorite time of day. I have a quiet mind, feel appreciative of all that I have been given, and have hope. For one burdened by nature and genetics with depression, morning tides of hope are a precious gift.

On my desk is a typewriter, a college-lined journal, and a computer. Three ways for me to write, depending on my mood or current inclination.

Also on my desk are the silly and meaningful things that I have collected as talismans and memories over the years: a rock from Sedona, Arizona and one from where the Brule River empties into Lake Superior; a shell from Padre Island; an “antique” picture of my brother Paul and I dressed as outlaws taken in Virginia City, Montana, 35 years ago; a shadow box with patches from the few countries I have visited; action figures of captains Kirk and Picard; a Zippy the Pinhead coffee mug filled with pencils, pens, and a pair of scissors; a ceramic Charlie Russell coaster; my coffee cup; and a rotating stack of books that I am currently working through. Everything I need to write.

Some mornings the writing is easier than other mornings. On the days when it is more difficult I usually end up working on this blog or tweaking some poems.

My silent times here are usually because my other writing projects are going well. Or because I feel I have “extra” time to work on ClimbingSky.

December has arrived. Tomorrow is the first day of Advent.

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Thanks

“Writing Life” (by m.a.h. hinton)

A year ago, I made a decision to do something with decades worth of poems scattered in computer files and old journals. Instead of letting them just gather dust, or be lost, or thrown away as I had been doing for 30 years, I decided to try sending them out.

In the last year, the following publishers have done me the honor of publishing my work. I thank them all.

Published in Last 12 Months

 

Writing can be a lonely habit. Some writers join writer’s groups or go to workshops or get MFAs. I have chosen to do it in a more solitary way.

There are advantages and disadvantages to trying to write in the way that was chosen for me. I say “chosen for me” because my I am not a by nature a joiner. I could not have done it any other way. I am most comfortable when by myself or with just a few others at a time from my small group of friends and family members.

The advantage is that I think I have developed a style of writing that works for me. The disadvantage is that I will always be blind and deaf to what I cannot see or hear. I am an audience of one. Everything I write is limited by and only as good as that flawed and imperfect audience of one can see or hear.

This blog, as irregular as it is, is the one outlet I have for trying things out. That is why I want to thank those of you who stop by here every now and then. Please know that I appreciate it very much.

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Poem: “Lashing Out”

“H.H.H.” (photo by m.a.h. hinton)

LASHING OUT
by M.A.H. Hinton

and what is this?

another flirtation
with the absurd?

each day
it is the same

the cartoon conman
lashing out
at a world
that has figured him out

his followers
willing to believe
even the craziest
of things

and those
chosen to lead
scheming
for more ways
to line
their donors’ pockets

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