by Laurie Wagner | Dec 14, 2014 | Blog
“I’m nervous,” my Cousin Tom said as I greeted him in front of the synagogue in Boulder, Colorado last week. We were walking into my nephew Jonah’s Bar Mitzvah, and Tom, a rabbi who was visiting from Tucson – a man who can, incidentally do a headstand at the snap of a finger – even in full suit and tie – and who did do a headstand on the grass after the service – was going to be chanting a Hebrew Torah portion in the ceremony that morning. “Why are you nervous?” I asked. “This is what you do, this is your gig.” Tom’s been a beloved rabbi in Tucson for the last 20 years. Even though he was here as family, he’d been invited to chant the Torah because not everybody has a rabbi for blood, and we love this guy – anytime we can get a blessing from him we do. Well it turns out that chanting a Torah portion isn’t his gig at all. His gig is being a rabbi – which means interpreting the Torah so we mortals can understand what God is saying to us. The singing gig belongs to the cantor of the temple. Asking Tom to chant Hebrew in the service is like asking an electrician to fix your plumbing. They both work on the house, but they do completely different jobs. But I didn’t know that then. “You’ll do fine,” I said, giving him a squeeze. I thought he was just being modest. Tom is awesome. I wasn’t worried at all. Until about a minute into...
by Laurie Wagner | Sep 30, 2014 | Blog
“Writing is how I round out my world, it’s how I unstick myself from the mud and make it across the meadow.” – Lisa Sadikman Readers, when I made a list of people I wanted to interview for this column, Lisa Sadikman quickly came to mind. She’s been a Wild Writing student of mine for years – a solid writer, and someone who has had to juggle the responsibilities of mothering three young girls, running a house and taking herself seriously as a writer. No small thing. Lisa is still at my Wild Writing table, but when she’s not here she’s scribbling notes for stories as she sits in carpool lanes, or in the wee hours before her kids get up for school. Her personal essays on parenting can be found on her blog, in the Huffington Post and many other magazines. (SEE below for links) If I admire anything, it’s someone who’s willing to sit there in the midst of her mental gunk, her exhaustion, her excuses and fears and lay some ink down on the page. Lisa does this and I’m happy to share her with you today. Lisa, I’ve been working with you for a bunch of years now and I’ve seen you go from someone who mostly wrote once a week in class — someone who knew she had more to say, but didn’t know exactly what that was — to someone who keeps a writing schedule, blogs each week and publishes regularly for the Huffington Post. I know a lot of writers who’d like to make that kind of journey with their work and I thought hearing from you would...
by Laurie Wagner | Sep 21, 2014 | Blog
I may have time to get to the Girl Scout store to get the new troupe numbers and Girl Scout USA insignia. I wonder if those jeans are worth patching? Is this middle aged spread or have I been eating too many nuts? Nuts are good, right? 229 days till summer. Still time to work toward that bikini My feet don’t hurt that much. You know, my shoulder feels exactly like it did during the racquetball days. Damn mosquitoes. I don’t need any more new clothes. I should make some soup this week. I loved Gina’s white t.shirt and long flowered jacket. She is so beautiful and neurotic. I felt pretty at the party but no one mentioned it. Prettier than I’d felt in a long time. Are they just used to my prettiness or am I not pretty at all? Do I have any underwear that he hasn’t seen? We should be getting that call from the basketball coaches soon. I hope practice isn’t on girl scouts night. Get to the bookstore. If I don’t invite more than two people over at a time we can all drink wine out of wine glasses. I hope they take those boots back. Mosquitoes. Will they retreat as it gets colder? What if I run out of money? Chocolate bacon, who would have thunk it? I can feel my hips. My breasts are like puddles. Exactly like my mothers. I think I said goodnight to him. One day...
by Laurie Wagner | Sep 9, 2014 | Blog
Writing about your real life is a tricky dance. Your life is your petri dish. You examine the things that happen, you make notes, you pay attention to small details and you consider whether you can unpack them to reveal something larger, something like a story. Moments become metaphors, lessons, things you want to understand better and share. If you’re good at it, you’re able to take these small moments of your life and crack them open to reveal the creamy center, the universal kung foo, the place where my story becomes your story, becomes a blessing or a teaching for us all. I believe we’re all made of the same stuff. We have different experiences and we have our opinions and different ways we stand in our stories, but we all understand what it is to long for something – love or connection. We all know what it feels like to feel small and overlooked, unseen and unimportant. We know exhaustion and defeat. We all know envy and what it is to have dirty thoughts about people we love. We know joy too – the feeling of riding a lucky wave – or just being suddenly happy for no reason except that the song on the radio has just changed your world. And that’s where telling true stories and using authentic, down to the studs language in your writing is really helpful. When you lay it on the line and don’t try to hide or be too clever, people can connect with you, and then they can connect with themselves. And that’s part of the...
by Laurie Wagner | Aug 25, 2014 | Blog
Because when our children grow up we can no longer strap them into car seats, which means they’re free to roam the earth as they please, and which sometimes means they down 5 shots of vodka with their new college roommates even though they promised themselves that they’d take it slow on account of the altitude and all. We tell stories because we struggle to find the words when the apple of our eye calls the next morning, voice craggy and full of rocks to let you know that no, she will not be helping you in your effort to find furniture for her room today because “Mama I’m very sorry but if I get up I’m going to throw up.” We tell stories because we want to come down hard, we want to get all “You need to learn how to take care of yourself…bla bla bla, ” except that just as those words are charging out of your mouth you remember who you were when you were a college student in this very town 35 years ago. The night you lay in your freshman bed so high you were certain the aliens were coming for you, how you closed your eyes and lay your arms by your side so you’d be ready to beam up in one piece. The day you ate too many mushrooms and had to have your best friend Lisa walk the streets of Boulder with you for hours, reminding you what was good about your life because you had forgotten. The Friday afternoon beer party where...
