ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Author, actor, producer, teacher and ne'er do well, Ms. McKenzie has taught over 100 courses in creative writing, technical writing, and essay writing. As a teacher, she focuses on helping each student to find their voice. As a writer, she focuses on keeping her own voice as authentic as possible. She has "traditionally" published one novel, two text books and one non-fiction book, and multiple essays, articles, and poetry. Recently, she has self-published three more novels and two more non-fiction books.

Thursday, December 22, 2016

A River Of Words - Workbook now Available

 The workbook developed around the principles I posted  earlier  for writing groups is now out and available on Amazon.

This method was developed after training I did over a five-year period in methods used by the Quakers for community support in problem-solving.  After participating several times during these training sessions in a process called The Clearness Committee, it occurred to me that elements of the process were similar to small steps I had taken with my students in writing classes, and that the process, if altered to direct attention to issues relevant to writers, could be useful to my students. I adapted the process for writers and implemented elements of it in my writing classroom, to remarkable results.
Over the years, as I've participated in writing groups, both good groups and bad ones, it also occurred to me that there was an element missing from what we have come to see as the standard writing group process, and that adapting the Clearness Committee process, as used for my students, for a more experienced writing group, could help fill that gap.  Most writing groups focus on feedback on an individual piece of work, rather than on helping a writer to clarify their purpose in a particular piece or in their overall work.   The Quakers, in developing Clearness Committees, believe that there is, in each person, "an inner light" that will help them to solve their own problems, if they simply have the help of their community to help them access it.  The principle behind RiverWords process is similar - use of the techniques and strategies of the Clearness Committee are used to help writing groups to help each other to find their own inner answers to their search as writers - either around an individual piece or around their work in general.

A River of Words contains full information on all the strategies used in this writing group process, worksheets and check sheets for each step of the process, and full information on the 'hows and whys' of each step to guide a group in preparation for a RiverWords session.    To find the workbook on Amazon, click here:   A River of Words

Wednesday, December 21, 2016

ON WRITING FOR YOUR LIFE

Last night, my sister asked me:  “What does a writer do to resist the disaster roaring down on us?”   My response to her was “Write for your life - use every opportunity to write against that disaster and for a better way.”


Since that conversation, I have been giving a lot of thought to what it means to “write for your life.”   It is, in some basic sense, what writers - those who are really called to writing - always do, have always done.  We write because it is impossible for us to not write.  It is, for many writers, simply the definition of who we are.  But now ‘writing for your life’ means more than that.  It has always meant more than that.


There are many ways to define the work of a writer, and which you accept depends on your perspective and how writing enters your life.  The difference for writers (or, the kind of writer that I am, at any rate), is that writing is how we enter the world.  It is the door that I open to go out, to find
kindred souls, to do work that I hope will make a difference.  We all do whatever work we have in our life for that purpose, either to make a difference in the world at large, or in our own lives, or in the lives of those we love.  No matter your work, whether it is an occupation you actively chose or one that you stepped into out of necessity, you do it to make things better.  If that weren’t the goal, if we weren’t allowed to hope for better in our lives or to make the lives of those we love better, going to work would have no fundamental difference from slavery.


For writers, the work is always chosen.  There is no career path, no signing bonus, no job posting that offers the advantages that other jobs or careers do.  We choose to do it because we must.  That is, to me, one of the essential differences for us - not only does writing offer the best way, the only true way, that we can enter the world around us, but it is, by force of a culture that denies the value of creative process, a choice that must be made intentionally and lived out in difficulty and division - writing at your desk after a long day at work, taking your writing with you on family vacations, finding alone time to write when others are finding relief in family, friends, and relaxation.  But if we do not make that choice, we don’t really live.  My sister (the same who asked me the question above) once told me that a friend said to her “Do you want to leave this world without having said what you have to say?”  That is the question, the drive, the motivation that feeds the fire in a writer.  


For me, that fire, that choice, means a commitment to truth, in spite of the fact that, recently, we
are being told that there is no ‘truth,’ no ‘facts,’ anymore.  The student (and teacher) of logic in me both rebels at this and denounces it.  Saying something does not exist does not make it so.  I could shout all day long that there was no sky, but all anyone has to do is look up.  Truth exists, and those writers who say they have no obligation to the truth (looking at you, Aaron Sorkin) are part of the larger problem, I don’t care what side they’re on.


So, for me, “writing for my life” means writing the truth, as clearly, cleanly, and plainly as I can.  It means that I do not accept, in any form, written or verbal, the kinds of pronouncements made during this campaign by the incoming PEOTUS.  It means that I will continue, with everything in me, to call out the blatant lies that are told, to oppose the violence against freedoms expressed as ‘policy initiatives.’   Let me be clear, here - I am not a Democrat, nor am I a Republican - I have been registered as an Independent for as long as I can remember.  I have had issues with politicians before, both Democrat and Republican, and, as those who have worked with me will tell you, I have no problem calling out people when I believe that what they’re doing is wrong.  

I believe this incoming administration is the most dangerous we have seen in my lifetime, possibly in our country’s history.  I will watch them closely, and will speak loud and strong when I see injustice.  As a writer, I must choose that, or choose to close my door onto the world, which I cannot do.

Tuesday, November 15, 2016

Fire On the Page - On the Responsibility of the Writer (and the Human Being)

It is no secret (to anyone on any of my social media feeds) that I opposed vehemently the candidacy of the incoming President-elect (or “he who shall not be named”).  The last few days have been dominated by my determination to oppose everything he stands for - working with local protests, sharing information, developing networks to protect all those he has, through his hateful rhetoric, put at risk.  I hardly slept, for days, until the urging of friends and sheer necessity drove me to a long and deep sleep just last night.  Waking refreshed, finally rested following days of tension, action, and combined rage and determination, I settle in front of my computer.  I have lists.  Things to do.  People to respond to.  Information to get out.

My fingers go to the keyboard, and I begin…...to work on my latest fiction piece - book three of a trilogy -- about a group of people who, through no fault of their own, have changed in a way that makes them an object of fear to others - and to their own government.  I didn’t plan that this part of
this story would be written at a time like this in our country, and, in point of fact, when I began this trilogy, it was all for fun, a result of a dare, a lark to break into one of my favorite genres.  Not so much serious work as an exercise in form.

I have been writing fiction and poetry, essays and articles since I could hold a pen, driven to the page in my youth by one of two separate and very different urges:  either the vivid, insistent, and shining pressure of a story in my head begging to be told, or fire in response to wrongs I perceived in the world.  In graduate school, under the guidance of two amazing thesis advisors, (British author Nicola Morris and award-winning poet and author Mark Doty)  I realized that these two motivations were not, and could never be, separate or separated.

“All responsible art,” I was once told, “is social criticism.”  There was a time when this admonition, though it has stuck in my brain for more than thirty years now, put me off, and in point of fact annoyed me - why is there not room in the creation of art (or of life, for that matter) for simple fun?  I wanted simply to have fun with writing a sci fi trilogy, but my deep training, the core of who I am, the essence of the strong, aware, and ethical culture in which I was raised, won out, whether I was aware of it or not.  

Asked once, when I was applying for a residency for writers, about the purpose of my work, I wrote that the over-riding themes of my work were and always had been exposing abuse of power, dispelling myths about the working class and equivalent myths about activism.  The words, as I wrote that application, came easily, as long ago I had been forced into a realization that cultural myths had
marginalized and denigrated the strength, integrity, and humanity of the wonderful people with whom I was raised, and had conversely and covertly covered up the failings and flaws of those involved in social and cultural movements.  Speaking the truth about these things became the guiding force of all my work from that (very early and very transformational) day forward.

And what I found was that, aware or not, intentional or not, conscious or not, those themes, those guiding influences, that determination for truth and for honoring integrity denied and exposing flaws hidden, was in my work whether I intentionally put it there or not.

I write these days to expose and oppose the rising darkness in our country, to combat the abuse of power, and to save my own soul from descending into fear.  Whether I am writing essays, submitting op-ed pieces, creating fiction, or writing on this blog, those will be my goals.  And I hope they are yours.



Thursday, November 3, 2016

Of a River in Ireland, and Why I go to Standing Rock

Ten years ago, I spent most of a summer in Ireland. I had gone to hike the Wicklow Way, from Dublin to southern Ireland, but thanks to a grate on a sidewalk in Dublin, I sprained my ankle the first day there, and my plans had to change. This turned out to be a fortunate accident, as I ended up spending a lot of time with locals. I spent a couple of weeks in Dublin, a few weeks in Glendalough valley, and a few more in a tiny town in southern Ireland where my grandfather was born - Carriag na Suir, or Carrick-on-Suir. The town straddles the Suir River, part of the town in Waterford County, and part in Tipperary County.
In that town I met many lovely people - a printer who introduced me to a local historian who had a THICK file on my family heritage, a lovely woman who worked at the local mill who I almost daily shared a pint with at the local pub, my hosts at the B & B where I stayed, who sent me off each day loaded down with food and plenty of local wisdom. Everyone I met - everyone - kept telling me that I needed to meet Michael Cody - a local teacher, writer, poet who had won many international awards for his poetry, and who could tell me a great deal about the town.
I finally got up the nerve to call him, and he invited me over immediately, and he and his wife were lovely. When a birthday call came from a friend while I was in their home, Michael - exclaiming that it was my birthday and a gift was called for - got down several of his poetry volumes from a shelf, signed them, and presented them to me. As we talked that day about the town, it came out that both his grandfather and my grandfather had worked on the Suir river as boatmen. In the county at that time, the “port” for ships coming in was upriver from Carrick at the town of Clonmel, but the boats couldn’t make it that far upriver without help. The Carrick boatmen would stand on shore and grasp ropes tied to the boats, and haul the boats upstream to Clonmel - seven miles. I walked the seven miles along their “tow-path” while I was there, and, just hauling my back-pack, it was not an easy walk.
We talked about our ancestors, about the town, and, at one point, with a wistful look on his face, Michael said to me, “I can’t imagine life anywhere but on the river - it *is* life.” I think often of that day, of his face, and of how I felt as I later stood on the banks of the Suir, watching the blue water rush by, as I prepare to leave for Standing Rock. My grandfather, though he left Carrick when he was very young, loved that river, just as he later grew to love the Kootenai River in northwest Montana, on which he lived many of his later years. In his notes, I found a quick scrawl about the Kootenai, where he wrote “There is nothing like the exhilaration of life on this river.” Yes. The exhilaration of life. The profoundly true notion that water IS life.
This is why I go to Standing Rock. Not only are the Standing Rock Sioux honoring their ancestors by protecting the water, but they are honoring ALL of our ancestors, and I must honor mine.

Saturday, October 29, 2016

It is HERE! FREE PDF




There are times when every writer needs something beyond feedback   - not editing but guidance, not suggestions but clarity.  They need discovery.  These are the times for a RiverWords session. RiverWords is a new method for writing groups focusing on growth for the writer. The FREE PDF that gives a quick guide to RiverWords sessions is available for download on my website here:

The full-length workbook to guide groups through the entire process, and explain the origins and ideas behind these techniques is available to purchase on Amazon here:

Thursday, October 27, 2016

On Making a Mess

NOTE:  the launch of the FREE PDF for writer’s groups in two days,
On saturday, October 29th - watch here for a link to the free download!
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Recently, a friend of mine was shopping for new furniture for her home office and brought a catalog with her to our coffee date.  As she thumbed through it while I perused the menu, she gasped and slid the catalog across the table to me, pointing to a picture in the catalog of an ‘ideal’ office with the banner “Make this YOURS!”  She tapped the picture, and I looked down.  
“Wow, that’s beautiful!” Gleaming surfaces, curved edges, handy nooks for papers and
supplies, beautiful hangings on the wall.
She grinned.  “Wouldn’t you just love to have that as your office?”
“No.”  I said, without thought, without hesitation.
She sat up, pulling the catalog back to her as though I’d offended.  “Why?’
“I couldn’t work there.  Too sterile.  I like funky.”  And went back to my menu.

Space - the space in which you write - is important to writer’s process.  While not the most important element, (perhaps), it is essential to mindset, to concentration, to the spirit of the writer herself. I’m not saying that a space such as that in the catalog photo is bad for writers - I’m saying it’s bad for me as a writer, and that each writer should be very careful about how they choose, structure, and respect their writing space. We’ve known about this for a long time.  Virginia Woolf wrote about the necessity for a woman writer having ‘a room of her own,’ (though I actually disagree with part of her argument), and the majority of the writers I know are jealous of and protective of their space for writing.

Students in my writing classes have often told me that having a good place to write is a major obstacle for them - noisy roommates, crowded housing, etc.   I’ve gone through with them an activity
which has them think about the last time they wrote something they liked …. Where were they?  What did they like about the place?  What did work?  What didn’t? ….until we narrow down the elements that work for them and find a way to recreate it.  Perhaps a dark booth in the corner of a coffee shop, or a bench in the park, or, remarkably, for one student, a table at McDonalds.

The point is, as with so many other elements in the creative act, to PAY ATTENTION.  For me, the moment came in watching a scene in the movie White Palace.  The main character ( a very young James Spader) pulls a dust-buster off the wall of his host’s house, and opens it, exclaiming “there’s no dust in the dust-buster!” -- a moment, which, in the film, is transformational for the character.  That moment stayed with me a long time.  I had spent a long time trying to be “neat” in my writing space, organizing and stacking, filing and sorting.  “Writing,” a teacher named Peter Elbow once said, “is a process of making a mess and cleaning it up.” Looking at my own process, I realized I was cleaning it up before I’d allowed myself to make the kind of mess that real lives and real humans create. Ever after, I did not worry about the organization or cleanliness of my writing space.  There were much more important things.
My space is filled with large old well-distressed oak table that once belonged to my late sister.   In the middle of a story, it will be stacked with books and pages, notes and pencils, computers and reference works, scraps with snatches of dialogue, sketches I’ve made of characters or their world,
and likely my soup-bowl stacked on top of my breakfast plate.  I recognized some time ago that funky old furniture fits my character, soothes my working-class spirit (which comes from my upbringing), and gives me a sense of history I find essential to developing my characters.
I like funky places.  I like funky people.  I like working-class people (in spite of objectionable images of them promoted in the media, tv shows, and by certain directors - one of my main objections to Scorsese).  I like the sense of history, of struggle, of the human spirit, embodied in the old, scrappy furniture that I surround myself with.

That works for me.  It may not work for everyone, but the point is to figure out what that environment is for YOU, and do everything in your power to create it.  Maybe you need clean clear open spaces to create that sense in your mind and open the door to creativity.  Maybe you need McDonalds, to surround yourself with the comings and goings of people and families to remind you of the wide variety of the human heart.  Maybe you need dark corners to help you peer into the other worlds you want to create.  Whatever it is, make it YOURS.

Thursday, October 20, 2016

2 Must-Do Strategies to Beat Writers Block

NOTE:  The FREE PDF for writer’s groups (and the accompanying book-length handbook) are in final editing, just days from being posted - all permissions received.  Look for posting within 10 days.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


“The writer seeks, and then must deal, with empty time.”

I don’t recall the first time I saw the above quote, nor do I remember it’s source.  I do remember that, when I first saw it, I knew exactly what it meant.  We writers will bemoan endlessly the lack of time to do the writing we need to do, and then, when we have it, find any number of other things to do instead - laundry, errands, dusting, organizing files, alphabetizing books or CDs or recipes - anything to avoid the challenges, the discomfort, of facing that blank page and the endlessly-blinking cursor.  We are world-champion procrastinators and apologists.

And we know it. In those alone moments, when there is no one to whom we need to justify our
inaction, we look at that cursor, or the blank page, and we know we could put down a word, two words, a thousand of them - if only we could get over the fear.  

And here I am to say:  GET OVER IT.

As a popular meme says, there are two steps to writing a novel (or a story or an article):  Step One:  start writing.  Step Two:  There IS no step two

I’m not saying the fear isn’t real.  I’m not saying it is not paralyzing and debilitating. It is.  So is the fear of a woman going into labor, or a soldier going into battle, or of any of us going into a job interview, or a first date, or a dentist appointment, for Christ sake.  The empty page is as frightening to the writer as any of these, and yet….. And yet, it is the only way to become the writer you want to be.  So you must find a way to do as I said:  get over it.

There’s lots of advice out there on how to do that - strategies, tricks, mental training, meditation, finger exercises --- strategies ad nauseum.   They are all fine, but won’t get you to the page until you do two things:

BE BRAVE..

Yes, easier said than done.   There is, in my experience, one fool-proof way to help anyone find their courage.  Joseph Campbell, the mythologist and philosopher, once offered it as advice to his students:  consult your death.   We are all, at some point, leaving this earth.  When it is over for you, what kind of person do you want to be remembered as? (Yes, I know I ended a sentence with a preposition - get over that, too.) A friend of my sister (also a writer) once said to her:  “Do you want to leave this earth without having said what you need to say?” They are the same sentiment.  Some writing students have told me that
they have nothing to say worthy of readers attention, and I always tell them the same thing:   I don’t believe that.  Every person - every person - on this earth has a perspective that is entirely unique.  No one - not a single other soul - can think about things, see things, react to things in exactly the same way you can.  And, further, you have no way of knowing who that perspective or thought might be useful to.  Stop hiding your gifts out of fear.  

And, second:   DO IT.

Sit down every day and write words - word after word after word - on your paper.  You will fail.  You will fail mightily.  You will get rejections, editors remarks will pierce your soul.  But if you truly wish to write, that is the rite of passage.  As Hemingway once said - the world breaks everyone, and afterwards, some are strong at the broken places.  If you want to be a strong writer, you must face those broken places, open to them, and put their story on the page - every day.  

What the truly great writers tell us, if we really listen to their words, is that the world doesn’t need a writer who is market-savvy - the world needs the hard, brutal, soul-wrenching, beautiful truth.  This means finding what you have to say, the one thing that is yours to say, and then bucking up your courage and saying it.  Be brave.  Do it.


-----------------------------------------------------------

Launch date for the FREE PDF and “RiverWords” book:  October 29th.  Look for the link here and on my website.

Monday, October 3, 2016

Notes on Being Nowhere

(See notes about the upcoming FREE download at the end of this post)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

For several days, every time I think about writing, I’m haunted by an image from many years ago:  my father, who died when I was a young child, picking through a pile of discarded parts at the city dump outside my home town. It’s only the flash of an image, like a still photograph - his smile, his hand reaching for a curved piece of metal - a bicycle bumper - the collar of his jacket, the twinkle in his eye.  My parents couldn’t afford bicycles for all six of us kids, so he found parts others didn’t want,
scoured the dump, found more, and built three bicycles - three that served all six of us through our childhood years.  He painted them, and the one I inherited when my older sisters were done with it was the blue one.  It was, during the late years of my childhood, my favorite thing on earth.  I felt like I could go anywhere, do anything when I was riding.
When I see that image of my father, the bent bumper frame in his hand, it is not those feelings of freedom I feel.  It is, more than anything, a sense of understanding - a vision of another human being motivated in ways I know.  I am, in that flash of a moment, in the presence of a peer - a parent, doing what it takes to find a way to give his child something good, something that opens up childhood in the right ways.
What makes that image so essential is connection.  A connection, a deep understanding of a person who, for most of my young life, I had believed was wholly beyond my capacity to understand.

“There are days,” a fictional character once said*, “when we are simply nowhere.”
Every writer knows that feeling.  In point of fact, in the writing of this blog, I have said it to myself (well, said, “I am nowhere”) half a dozen times.  In recent months, I think most of the country knows this feeling - events spiraling out of control, beyond our ability to affect them, leaving us feeling impotent, frustrated -- nowhere. It is the national disease of our time, and one that writers are intimately familiar with.  
What strikes me as I think of this is that, in order to truly leave that feeling, that emotional/psychological trap behind, you must actively choose to be somewhere.  You cannot just wait for events to unfold and hope for the best, you cannot be passive, just as writers (the real ones) know they cannot just wait for “inspiration.”  To be passive is to surrender.  Writers know this - they know they must power through that fiction known as “writer’s block” to find the words hiding behind their fear.  Athletes know it -- they know they must power through that very real phenomenon known as “the wall” to get to their best performance.  You must be somewhere.  You must take a stand, write the words, run the miles, and stand up.  

Here’s where I stand, here is the ‘somewhere’ that I am:   I stand with Standing Rock, who are protecting their lands and the water that all of us must have from the inevitable (yes, it is inevitable) poisoning that would result if the oil companies win.  I stand with Black Lives Matter, because to stand against them would, in my view, be simply inhuman. I stand with my brothers and sisters of Asian, Latina, Middle Eastern, African, and Native American heritage who are not asking for special treatment, but only that their lives be lived with equal safety and opportunity as their Caucasian fellows.  I stand with the LGBQT community, because having the freedom to choose how we identify ourselves and who we love is essential to the very nature of a democracy.  I stand with my sisters and brothers who practice the peaceful religion of Islam, because we were founded not as a Christian nation, but as a nation of religious freedom. And, I stand, without hesitation, without question, and in the face of my own very real fears, against all those who would oppose equality, who would oppose justice, who would promote fear and hatred.

How to make that stand is a much harder question.  The ‘how’ is the source of the fear, the frustration, the sense of being nowhere felt by so many in this country, on all sides of every debate or action.  We make choices when we do this - which is what brings me back to that image of my father at the dump, eyes twinkling over his find of a bent  bicycle bumper.   He had returned from serving his country during the war, a war during which his country unjustly imprisoned Japanese Americans, while reviling Hitler for imprisoning Jews; a war during which The House UnAmerican Activities Committee** ruined lives of American citizens while ignoring their first Amendment rights; a war during which we became the only country to ever use nuclear power against another country.  He had returned from this service and chose to be in this life the kind of person who stands up; once he simply quit his business when his partners were considering a course of action my father felt would be unfair to customers and he could not convince them otherwise - simply resigning, returning home and taking  his family to the drive-in, until finally his partners relented.  He chose to be a good person in his community and in his family - a good father, a good husband.  In that moment of joy at the dump, with the bumper in his hand, he celebrated not only the find of something that would make his children happy, but the life of connection
to others, lived out while standing up for what you believe.

For him, in that moment, no dis-empowerment existed, no frustration, no fear over the rampant evil in our world.  He lived a life of connection and clear, solid principles, and he practiced that according to his gifts - his gift of an extraordinary skill at fatherhood, of natural and beautiful connection to others in his life, of seeing them all as equals, including the clients of his business that he stood up for that day.   He lived according to his gifts, and never wavered in his belief in what was right.

It is that lesson I put forward for my writer friends, my activist friends, my friends of both Democrat and Republican persuasion (I am, myself, an Independent and a centrist, and have always been, defining what both of those mean on my own terms).  Live according to your gifts. I do not have the power, nor the skills, to impact change in all of those things I stand for.  I have no skill (and want none) at politics or community organizing or revolution.  What I do have gifts for are the written word, persuasion, and teaching.  I am not a particularly brave person, and I have real fears about what these stands could mean for me.  I have been called brave, but I have never felt brave. During the first Gulf War, when I practiced Islamic covering for many months in support of Muslim women in our community, I felt fear regularly, but took it as an opportunity to teach.  When I have stood up to Union practices I opposed, or unfair practices by a Homeowner’s association, or destructive policies at the school where I teach, people called me brave, and I was afraid.  I don’t know - and likely never will - what impact any of those actions had on the long term.  I do know that I was frequently thanked by others in those battles for giving voice to their opinions.  I work with words - it’s what I do.  

It is what all writers do, whether reeling under the weight of writer’s block, or spending hours at the keyboard with words flowing.  The things for which we stand come out in the words, whether through fictional characters dialogue and actions, or nonfiction essays.  Be sure, as you write them, that you honor those people in your lives like my father - standing in the dump, holding what treasures you have, and using them to make life better.
--------------------------------------------------------------
NOTE: This is not a political blog, and this post does NOT signal a move away from that, but sometimes there are things that just have to be said.
----------------------------------------------------------------
NOTES:
* the "fictional character" was Sam Seaborn in an episode of "West Wing"
** a committee which some recent leaders have suggested, horrifically, that we need to re-establish
----------------------------------------------------------------
FINALLY: A note of apology to those awaiting the promised free download of a GuideSheet for Writing Groups. Due to copyright issues, the free download and the full-length book (which will be available in paperback and e-book on both Amazon and Barnes & Noble sites) must be posted at the same time. The delay is due to being sure all permissions are in place. While verbal permissions have been received, we are awaiting the formal permissions before posting, which should be soon.