Category: Fiction

Writing fiction, prose, novels, short stories

Spotlight: George Ella Lyon

Author Gurney Norman hugs George Ella Lyon with a background of green leaves.
George Ella Lyon with Gurney Norman. Photo by Ann W. Olson

This long-overdue author spotlight honors one of my favorite writers, teachers, and people in the entire world: the gracious, multitalented George Ella Lyon!

In addition to her fiction, playwriting, songwriting, and poetry, Lyon’s books for young readers are a favorite in classrooms and libraries. Her newest book, Time to Fly, illustrated by Stephanie Fizer Coleman, features a hesitant baby bird enticed to leave the cozy nest for the first time.

Lyon is a writer who understands the importance of home, as well as the power of continuing to touch lives in a larger community. When her book All the Water in the World appeared in a cereal promotion, she was thrilled to think of her book finding families at the breakfast table.

Lyon’s work has traveled the world, perhaps none more so than her poem “Where I’m From.” She developed a writing exercise used by writers, teachers, and students of all levels; this year, her work turned up in a speech given by a certain familiar professor . . . Dr. Jill Biden.

. . . for my first lesson of the year, I use the poem, “Where I’m From,” by George Ella Lyon. Its verses tell the story of the author’s hometown, not in locations, but in sensations and experiences and memories. Then I ask my students to think about their own lives: Where does their inner strength come from? What made them who they are?”

First Lady Jill Biden, Los Angeles City College Commencement, 2022

Building Creative Communities

Lyon’s creative life is rich with teachers, mentors, and friends. She gives credit to her parents’ love of story and song, her marriage to a musician (a “partner who values the creative life as much as I do”), and her children who, she says, opened her eyes and deepened her soul.

“And I can’t leave out Richard Jackson,” George Ella says, “my beloved editor, who in 1984 invited me to write for children, giving me work that I love . . .” And of course credit also goes to “all the trees who have held and counseled me.” (Appropriate, considering her 1993 poetry collection, winner of the Appalachian Book of the Year award, was titled Catalpa!)

If you ask George Ella what she would most like to celebrate, a list of supporters, teachers, and fellow creatives pours out: Ruth Stone, Danny Marion, Gurney Norman . . . “Gurney got me to Hindman,” she says, “and you know what happens when you cross that bridge!”

At Hindman Settlement School, working with Jim Wayne Miller, washing dishes at the historic Appalachian Writers’ Workshop at Hindman Settlement School with Harriette Arnow, taking part in readings and classes and friendships, George Ella says she “grew up as a writer.” Those days have given her a writing community she still enjoys today.

Below is a writing prompt from George Ella Lyon that may look a little familiar: it’s a variation of a “Map” prompt shared by Leatha Kendrick. Lyon notes she and Kendrick are fast friends. Working together leads to learning together, not just about teaching, but about writing too.

In a perfect example of an entwined creative community, this exercise grew from shared work and creative community, including the shared inspiration of Jo Carson, who published maps of herself and her body in Now & Then magazine.

Writing Prompt: Mapping Your Memory House

While both Kendrick and Lyon begin the exercise with sketches, Lyon’s version “navigates memory in a different way.” Comparing these two is a great example of adapting a prompt for different audiences.

  1. Draw the floor plan of a place where you have lived. Show where all the rooms are. Use another page if you need to.
  2. Now make a note of a memory, something that happened in each room. Include hallways, bathrooms, closets, the attic, basement and garage. Write this directly on your map.
  3. Choose the memory that has the most energy for you. 
  4. Draw the scene in that room.
  5. Put yourself back there. Who was with you? How old are you?
  6. Take a sensory inventory. What can you taste, touch, smell, hear see? Write this on your map.
  7. Can you hear anyone talking? What do they say? Is there music?
  8. Is there something in this scene that you can’t draw?
  9. Is this a moment of power? Who has it? Does it shift from on person to another?
  10. Free-write this moment. You might begin “I am in the __________.”

We comfort ourselves by reliving memories of protection. Something closed must retain our memories, while leaving them their original value as images. Memories of the outside world never have the same tonality as those of home and, by recalling these memories, we add to our store of dreams; we are never real historians, but always near poets, and an emotion is perhaps nothing but an expression of poetry that was lost.

from Gaston Bachelard’s The Poetics of Space (1956, trans. Maria Jolas, 1969)

Author Spotlight: Jim Minick

The phrase “triple threat” pops up in sports far more often than in creative writing. But if there is a “triple-threat author,” Jim Minick fits the bill, with his moving poetry, award-winning novel, and thought-provoking creative nonfiction. 

Head shot of author Jim Minick, smiling, against a background of green ivy
Author Jim Minick

The first work I encountered from Minick was his poetry, published in several local and regional journals. Some of those poems would evolve into Her Secret Song, a portrayal of the growing relationship between nephew and aunt.

Later, in 2008, Minick published another collection, Burning Heaven, which won the 2008 Book of the Year Award from the Virginia College Bookstores Association. (If you follow these links, scroll past the well-deserved high praise of these works, and you’ll find outstanding samples from each volume.)

A heap of fresh-picked blueberries
Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com

My family subscribed to The Roanoke Times with an almost religious dedication, and for some years we were treated to “Field Work,” Minick’s monthly column in its New River Current.

Those reflective columns hinted at his book-length creative nonfiction works, Finding a Clear Path and The Blueberry Years. The latter, inspired by his family’s creation of an organic, pick-your-own blueberry farm, entwines personal experiences with reflections on national issues . . . And, of course, blueberries, blueberries, blueberries.

In addition to his poetry and nonfiction, Minick had another type of story he wanted to share: the novel Fire Is Your Water. This fictional story marked a venture into magical realism, creating a work Lee Smith calls, “a love story wrapped in horror, fire, and faith.”

Now that Minick has retired from the classroom, he has three new projects in the works. That’s right—three new books on the way.

Told you . . . He’s a triple threat!

A Favorite Writing Exercise

Minick attributes this exercise to Bill Roorbach’s Writing Life Stories. He says he’s used it “often and with great success”; like all the best writing exercises, this one can surprise you.

Write a letter explaining yourself to someone you know. Don’t expect to send the letter. The recipient can be dead or alive.

“The exercise often gets to deep emotional struggles and truths,” Minick says, “and often it is a great way to really find or think about your voice.”

What will you discover through writing a letter? Try it, and listen for the music of your own voice.

Writing Craft: Gospel of the Flute Master

During an overdue cleaning of the guest room, I discovered a folder of notes from my days as a high-school first-chair flute-player. Inside this folder, I found fingering charts, tiny pages meant for flip-folders, and handwritten notes.

Some of the notes were from a tutoring session with a professional musician. This experienced flautist spent a long Saturday teaching students about posture, alternate finger positions, and better embouchure. I also found notes labeled as the instructor’s “GOSPEL.” Decades later, those notes still stand out as powerful advice, not just for musicians, but for creative writers too.

Here’s the “Gospel” for flute players:

Silver flute with gold mouthpiece in blue velvet case
My beloved flute, terror of neighbors and housepets
  1. ALWAYS build or relieve tension. Play like you’re going somewhere.
  2. Less tight = less tense = faster runs
  3. Bring everything forward + breathing [is] easier. [Remember to take] 3 BREATHS—back, belly, chest

How much of our love of music comes from suspense? We love the building up and relieving of tension. (OK, that probably sounds like certain other activities, too.) The advice is good for more than just Bolero, however. His points are great advice for the writing craft—fiction, in particular, but other types of creative work too. Even actors, when they leave the stage, are told to exit as if they have somewhere to go!

If you want lovely fast runs on the flute, tightening up will not help. Gripping your Gemeinhardt like it’s a life rope won’t make your music faster, louder, or easier. Sometimes you need to loosen your grip, take a step back, and—this leads to # 3—breathe.

Breathing lets you play the long notes, the high notes, the eerie low notes. As writers, we’re often told to practice reading our work aloud.

When we read aloud, breath means everything. What is the pacing of my work? Where am I taking a breath–or a pause–in my poetry? If I race through a long passage breathlessly, is that a problem? Or does my breathlessness heighten what I want to convey—panic, rage, little-kid excitement?

Thanks, long-ago flute tutor. I don’t know what we paid for that Saturday instruction, but the lesson was priceless.

Handwritten notes in messy cursive
The handwritten “Gospel.” And I thought my handwriting was messy now . . .