What’s Coming Up

Posted on by sereichert

Sort of hard to think about a future right now, to be honest. But resistance and rebellions were not built on giving up ground. So, I keep getting up. I keep supporting the people I love and the people who are in the most need, and I keep practicing my art. I’m writing representatives and flooding ICE hotlines with tips to look into the financial contributions of an illegal immigrant named Musk. I’m donating money to Planned Parenthood and frequenting the library. I’m making sure that my organization (Writing Heights Writers Association) will always honor Diversity, Equity And Inclusion. That I understand privilege poisons the well of our society and I am a part of that, so it’s my duty and my honor to use what little power I have to uplift everyone in my community, support them, listen to them, and advocate in ways that help them most, not my ego.

On top of that, here are some things I’ll be doing. If you’re in the area, or are interested in supporting my writing organization or my career, you can. For the record, WHWA is not a non-profit, but its not a money maker either. It’s a zero-sum game after I pay the bills and the teachers so, know that if you sign up for a class, or register as a member, your fees go to teaching and supporting writers. It is a labor of love and I hope I can do it for a very long time.

Here’s a Bullet List:

  • Starting in February, I’ll be looking for Beta readers and reviewers for my newest book, “No Words After I Love You” is a beautiful homage to love, grief, and how we, as humans cope with the shifting changes, losses, and heartaches in life while still being open to love and joy. It follows two older friends on a journey of rediscovering their fire and making peace with the past. I’d call it contemporary/literary fiction with a romantic/philosophical twist. Let me know and I’ll send you a copy.
  • WHWA is hosting classes at the end of the month in February and we’ll be talking about Plotting (Cristina Tripani-Scott) and How to Write Emotion in Fiction (me) You don’t have to be a member to attend and it’s all virtual so you can come in your pjs. Here’s the link to register: WHWA CLASSES
  • Registration is opening up in February for WHWA’s Spring Workshop and Retreat. This year we’ll have two tracks: Memoir and Creative Craft. There will be morning yoga, evening readings and socializing and plenty of time to write if that’s how the time serves you best. All up in beautiful Allenspark with views of Longs Peak and Rocky Mountain National Forest.
  • In March (the 12th) I’ll be giving a talk at Founded in Fort Collins, sort of a community organizer/entrepreneur conference, aimed to help small businesses, nonprofits, and aspiring hopefuls navigate the world. My talk will be about the importance of writing, and getting your voice heard. Here’s the dets:
  • I’m pitching two new novels to 5 Prince Publishing. Each is the first novel in a three-part series and I’m excited to get back into some fun, escapist romance. One is a time-traveling, historical romance, and the other is an odd hodgepodge of paranormal romance. Both have higher spice factors so…yum. I’m hopeful to get them out towards the end of the year, depending on how badly written they are and how much work my poor editor has to do.

Well, that’s all the news from my corner of the world. I hope you are doing good and just things from where you’re at. Be kind, work hard, don’t falter. Change happens with consistency and determination. We’ve got those things, so don’t lose hope.

Poetry 1-23-2025

Posted on by sereichert

It’s a tumultuous time. An era where its hard to trust information, its hard to have privacy, and its even harder to envision a world where we can be a functioning community again. These are the days that try good hearts. You are not alone. We are all in some phase of struggle. We are all clawing our way up. I love you. I see you. Do what you can, to be kind to yourself and others today. Don’t give up. 

Love Me Enough

I've tried to breathe it away
this constant ache 
a hunger, not satiated

I've tried to busy it away
with lists 
and checked boxes

I've tried running it away
until my knees were torn
and my vertebra grew together

I've tried laughing it away
your darkest friend
is always the most funny

I've tried writing it away
harsh words and compassionate pages
like arms to enfold, or choke

I've tried drinking it away,
until all I lost were words
and years with my children

I've tried cutting it away
sharp stings and
barely hidden red bracelets

hoping someone would notice
but even when they did
no one loved me enough to stop me

I'm trying to love me enough to stop me
I'm trying, this time
to love it away

And I'm learning
that means
feeding myself on breath
sitting through it in stillness
running headlong into the fire
allowing the storm to laugh through me
and writing only the truth
watering my brain like a garden
holding my body close like a child
Soothing the scars and 
loving the woman who survived long enough
to stand in love now

When Heroes Fall

Posted on by sereichert

I’d been trying to think of something writer-like to put on the blog this week. I am, after all, a writer and my blog is about more than just book signings and the random outburst of poetry. It’s a space for aspiring and seasoned writers to not feel so damn alone. To know that we exist in a universe together, with other, weird little writers. We inspire and uplift each other. Sometimes we are cautionary tales, or serve as examples good and bad to one another. We critique and offer hands up, teach and learn, all together, knowing that the heart of an artist is surrounded in a soul more sensitive than most.

We see the world differently. We hear it and smell it, and absorb it. We make connections and notice the little things that many don’t. Its often why we suffer so much more greatly. But this week. This week I watched and read as whispers of misconduct became horrible, horrific truths. About someone I used to admire very deeply. Someone I thought understood and abhorred causing unnecessary suffering. I read his books. I read my children his books. I bought his graphic novels, I enjoyed his writing advice. He was incredible and creating characters and monsters.

Then the truth came out that he was one. A true-to-life monster.

For years, and in very dark and disgusting ways, he committed monstrosities. Ways that I cannot as a feminist, as a human, as an artist, or as a soul made of stardust, reconcile with. It took every one of his books off my shelf, and put it in the recycling bin.

But you can hate the artist but love the art, right? All of those terrible acts don’t negate that he’s a good writer… Here’s where I brush aside that morally gray line.

NO. I can’t love the art of someone who’s soul is so rotten and sick that he’d do that to another person.. Yes, those terrible things DO negate that he’s a good writer. Because the brain that created those words, also created and excised pain and terror on actual human beings.

Here’s the bottom line. I’m fed up with a world offering excuses to people who behave this way. Weighing a ledger between talent and atrocity. Where its ‘kinda okay’ because I don’t want to give up my special editions? No. It matters. It matters who we support and what we allow, and I’m done allowing it.

I took his books off my shelf, for those girls and women. For my daughters, for anyone who’s ever fallen victim to a hero, and every hero who’s ever taken advantage. That’s not heroism.

He’s not allowed in my house anymore. I’ll never willingly read his words again or buy any more of his books. I hope he turns the monstrosities and horrors he put out into the world, back in on himself where they belong.

The Beautiful Writers Workshop: Welcome!

Posted on by sereichert

Good morning writers, authors, editors or accidental guests.

I’m trying to find more efficient ways to work this year and I found this old series in my back catalog. Now, I teach writing and support writers for a living but I think these little nuggets of advice (free) are actually still pretty good and relevant. So starting today, and for every Second Thursday on my Blog, I’ll be offering a little writing advice.

I call it the The Beautiful Writers Workshop, based on the quote from Ray Bradbury about filling your cup and letting all of the beautiful stuff pour out. This year-long journey is about developing your craft through exercises in creativity, editing techniques, inspirational prompts, and building the framework for your writing career.

Some of the blogs will inspire. Some blogs will lean more to the technical side of writing. But whatever the monthly topic, you can be assured of two things:

  • You’ll have a prompt or exercise to help develop your writing (and the opportunity to share it)
  • I’ll try to keep it spicy enough to be enjoyable.

So let’s get rolling! I searched through nearly all of my favorite books on writing for a perfect topic for our first lesson together but the truth is, there are just too many (good and bad) ideas out there.

So I’m going to start simple and ease you in gently to this process.

If you’re here you are either interested in writing, or are already doing it and are looking for something to add to your tool box. In order to appeal to all levels today’s workshop is centered on the basic purpose of your writing.

Below are a few questions that I’d like you to read, think about, and journal down your answers to. You can share them, you can keep them secret, but DO WRITE THEM DOWN.

Something amazing happens when we write down goals and steps to reaching them. The process becomes manageable; the goals become real. It’s one of the many beautiful and powerful attributes of writing.

  1. Without judgement or discouragement, and being as direct as possible: what is the ultimate, lifetime goal you have for your writing?
  2. What can you do to kick start this goal in the next 12 months? (hint: where do you need to start, where do you need to grow most for the big picture)
  3. Is this yearly goal attainable? WHY OR WHY NOT?
  4. Of your reasons from #3, think about the fears, limitations or concerns that formed these reasons. Name them. What do you foresee keeping you from moving forward on this yearly goal?
  5. Of the fears, limitations and concerns, what are the possible solutions or actions you can take to eliminate them? (hint: each limitation/fear/concern gets its at least one action you can take to overcome it)
  6. If you have a planner or calendar, write down one weekly goal (eliminating distractions, word count requirement, number of submissions out, editing, classes etc) that will help overcome the hurdles you have to your writing.
  7. Looking at these weekly goals, find specific and measured times you have to dedicate to their success and write them down.

Okay, that’s it! I know, it’s a little dry but when building a house you have to have a solid foundation first or none of the pretty architecture above it will survive. So build your foundation, know where you’re coming from and next week we’re going to talk about:

Mission Possible: Drafting your Writing Mission Statement

(that sounds super boring but it will help writer’s across the spectrum. I promise!)

What Do We Do Now?

Posted on by sereichert

It’s that time of year again, when we reset our calendars, back to a clean slate and make a lot of promises to ourselves that this year will be better. That we will be better. Only its a harder world this time around. You’d have to be pretty clueless to not see the deterioration of our society and our environment happening on the daily. Forces beyond our immediate control, who are so much more powerful than they should be. The inequality and stark difference between the few that have and the masses that have not. The magnitude of our environmental mistakes, snowballing into catastrophe… ugh, makes you want to just go back to bed, yeah?

Only what if we don’t? What if instead of accepting our broken and unjust system, we did something about it? Do you realize how many we are? Do you have any idea how revolutions work? It isn’t only the richest, brightest, and most powerful 1%. It is is the rest of us, standing up to say ‘no more’. Stopping our cog in the machine, putting to halt the system that works for only a few, and wears the rest of us out. Not giving in to hate and lies, not allowing our rational brains to get whipped into a frenzy by sensationalized and one sided news sources. Knowing that the truth of humanity, our shared existence and our common bonds is what those in power fear most. Because if we ever organized against them, the ‘let them eat cake’ knows they would not survive.

Am I calling for revolution? I dunno.

Are people dying of hunger? Are people being denied basic human rights? Are people dying because they’re can’t afford medical care? Are we imprisoning the poor for profit? Are we being refused a living wage? Are we having our energy and our art stolen by the heartless, greedy and belching machine that is AI? Is our environment being destroyed on the daily to pad the portfolios of people already too rich to spend it all? Short answer, yes.

But revolutions can be more than just war on the streets. They can come with lifting up communities, speaking out against injustice, refusing to work in unsafe conditions, turning off the noise of all the talking heads, reading books, speaking out, helping others. Revolutions can happen in our daily lives by refusing to live in the way we’re told we must.

I put together a yearly list, as usual, but this year I did something different. Instead of pushing through to commercially gained goals or pant sizes, I looked at what would help make me a better, stronger, more compassionate and purpose driven person.

You see, when we’re all worried about wrinkles and thigh size, we’re not dismantling the systems of injustice. If we’re worried about our 401K, we’re not thinking of our fellow human beings. Sometimes, just being content with your soul, resting in a hustle culture, and pursuing art and clarity is a radical act of rebellion.

When you sit down to think about your year, I hope you think about how you will defy the ignorance, hurt, and anger that’s permeating society currently. How will you choose to treat your fellow human beings, what work will you do, what purpose will you serve. I urge you to do something beautiful this year. I’m asking you to set your sites on being unswayable when it comes to justice and peace. I’m asking you to take to the streets when the time comes, and to stand up for your fellow human beings. I’m asking you to pursue a higher purpose, not in some deity, but in the pursuit of a better world for all of us. You’ve already got skills, find a way to use them to uplift. You’ve got talents and two hands. Use them for something that dismantles the systems that keep us all down.

Care for yourself, and others. In a world of mass production and garnering likes for self worth, shut off your social media and live in your skin. Rest when you need rest, push when you feel driven, and above all, do not lose hope.

Poetry 12-26-2024

Posted on by sereichert

This is my last post of 2024. I’m not sure what this new year will bring, or how much strife and struggle will be faced. I am reminding myself to find hope. In the kindness of my own heart as well as the goodness of other people I know. I hope you are getting some reflective time this week, to think about the year ahead, the things you need to prioritize and the things you are ready to let go of. I hope you are resting up for the fight to come.

Here’s a poem that was inspired by one of my favorite humans. Thank you Mary Oliver, for all the gracious insight into this wild and weird ride of life. 

Built to Survive

And oh how it pains me,
this disastrous cause
so far removed from the fresh, cold fields
and the dying gray-pink
of November dusk

I am caught in the trappings 
of an ever-present demand
create, create, create
sell, and buy, and break the book's spine
over the truncated timeline,
more concerned for a deadline
than the beautiful present view
before my own dead line

We do not see the muskrat 
in this way go
He does not build with wet, cold reeds
and fallen branches
to impress the critic

He builds to survive
He creates to have warm shelter
from the uncertain storms of life
He does what he does, because he knows 
no other way

How it pains me
this rushing through my words 
and upheaval of capricious page numbers 
flipping and fighting and settling 
for the shallow pond,
when my heart is an ocean
and this art is my shelter
its honesty, my survival
the only trueness left
in the short and tiresome struggle
of this one wild life.

Poetry 11-21-24

Posted on by sereichert

October was a wonderful month and I’m actually working towards keeping up my ‘poem-a-day’ even when it turns into more of a journal entry. Sometimes writing is not just one thing, and the poetry of the everyday counts just the same. Sometimes its the way we work through past hurts, even when they aren’t really a part of our present anymore. Sometimes the lines of verse are tiny cuts to the lines that hold us to those things not meant for us. The heart is a wild and rampant beast sometimes and we all deal with the fallout of her decisions differently. Hopefully we learn something new, each time.

Untitled

I’ve written so many lines about you
tracked tears under every constellation 
ached under the flowering trees
and sweated out remorse under July skies

I’ve worried for you,
rued you
let the storms of winter freeze 
any embers I thought remained

Still they simmer past
all reason, reemerging in my heart
where not even a desire to live resides

You were the fall of my empire
and yet I still find you in the rubbled remains 
the inconsistent wound
that does not ever, ever heal.

It is heart deep and tragic and
I never know what to do
when it opens
again, and again
and again...

Do I press fluttering hands to it
failure to staunch the bleeding in my own weakened state?
Numb the pain with earthly asides?
Embrace it and lick at the blood,
ravenous for even the slightest taste of your attention?

If I have changed in these many years
then I know you have too
So how can I still claim to burn
for a specter who is no longer 
the same that haunts my mind's halls?

How can my same old heart
have not grown along with
this hardened shell
and deepening wrinkles?
How has my tough hide not
pushed out the sliver of you
buried in my irate skin?

How can you still pull at my insides?
It is an irrational and hungry storm
and I am weary of trying to tie my lines against it

I guess after millions of years
the moon still pulls the sea
and no one begs to wonder why.

Community and The Introvert Writer

Posted on by sereichert

So, I’m being ambitious and getting a few of my blogs written while at the Writing Heights Writers Association Fall Retreat, in beautiful Grand Lake, Colorado. (We’ll be updating soon for our Spring Retreat) And I’m reminded…that I actually like being around people. Not all people mind you. But writer’s are a special sect and I want to talk about them.

I’ve been a part of a lot of different groups. Martial artists, anthropologists, archaeologists, massage therapists, pilots, refinery workers, landscape crews, teachers…and they all have their own little micro cultures and ways of communicating, but being around other writers is something kind of special.

For one, and this is something I never knew I needed…no one bats an eye if you wander off from a conversation to sit down and write. AND while you’re writing, no one comes up behind you to ask a question, interrupt or disrupt you. There’s a solemn air about someone sunken into the process and not only do you find the peace to pursue it in these moments, but you can actually feel a beautiful, uplifting energy of minds at work. That’s one of the biggest reasons retreats have always worked for me. Even as the facilitator of this particular one, I’m given grace to work on my projects and supported in doing so.

Secondly, no one coming to these retreats is a stranger to the biggest issues that plague us all. Fears, imposter syndrome, frustrations, the bane of feeling blocked and the uncertainty of where to go when we do finish. The feelings that someone is always more successful, someone is always writing more… We are all in the battle, and see each other. That level of understanding and grace gives you a blanket of comfort so that those lows don’t feel insurmountable.

So, this is a friendly reminder, no matter what you write, no matter where you are in the process or the struggle, get yourself a group of writers. You don’t have to meet every week, you don’t have to always talk writing (some of the best conversations we’ve had here were on the complexities of life, of parenting, of ecology and wildfires, and…the anatomical measure of a moose) and you don’t have to share your work. But you will know you’re not alone, and that someone is rooting for you and your words. And that, my friend, is priceless.

Fear of Failure

Posted on by sereichert

“A thinker sees his own actions as experiments and questions–as attempts to find out something. Success and failure are for him answers above all.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche

I know that I’ve talked about failure before (mostly because I’m kind of an expert at it), but today I’m looking at the fear of it and how that can affect us, on not just an emotional side but the physical as well.

The human brain is wired for survival. Which means, its really good at flooding us with chemicals to help us outlive the tiger in the grass. It gives us a healthy fear of risk, so that we can live another day to make fire, hunt and gather, and make more big-browed babies. The problem is that some of the deep seated responses and reactions are no longer as useful in our present day. So often, our overstimulated brains are inundated with stress-response chemicals at every little infraction. Boss angry? Jerk cut you off in traffic? Partner says ‘we need to talk’? All of these things can cause an immediate fear response.

Sometimes it’s still helpful, but on the whole it shuts down our ‘thinking’ brain which is a much slower, more thoughtful contributor to our actions. What does it have to do with failure?

Let’s talk about the concept of ‘worst case scenario’. All the mom’s in the crowd know what I mean. You’re child is playing on the playground, but you’ve already mapped out every sharp edge, every eye-poking branch, and every potential bully. Because we’re wired to look for danger and to prepare ourselves for the worst things that can happen. Even if they never do.

Switch over to that manuscript, or poem, or article on your computer that you’ve been working and reworking, and fussing over for years. You have a genuine fear that if you let it out of your sight, it’s going to get poked in the eye with a sharp stick, or fall off of the faulty ladder and break every bone in it’s body. So you keep it safe, you keep it to yourself.

Can you imagine a kid that never, ever left home? That never stepped out, that never met anyone else? That wouldn’t be much of an existence and the world would miss out. Unlike your own child, your writing will not die if you expose it to some danger. In fact, it’s through this ‘danger’ that it will grow, learn, and become better.

So, when you’re trying to decide about submitting, or putting your work in a critique group, remember that its normal to feel apprehensive but that the point of using our voice, of writing what we love, is so that we can share it. And the worst case scenario is really that someone else doesn’t like it. Here’s a little insight-it doesn’t matter if they don’t. If they have good feedback that makes sense and would improve it, great–but don’t let the fear of not being instantaneously accepted keep you from trying. Every work is not for every body. But you won’t know which body it will speak to, if you never let it out.

So–go get ’em. Take that piece to a critique group, give it to a friend to read, submit it to a magazine. Just don’t let the fear keep it (and you) in a cave.

Gratitude

Posted on by sereichert

I’ve been going through a few books on stress lately, some helpful apps about dealing with emotions (sans alcohol) and how to find more balance in a busy world. The common theme of late has been about finding and fostering Gratitude.

Before I go further, I don’t want you to think this is some kind of toxic positivity post wherein I’m going to urge you to stop complaining and be thankful it’s not worse, or preach to you that you shouldn’t feel the feels because you’re lucky to be alive. That’s simply bullshit. We are allowed to complain, and rage against the slings and arrows of life. In fact, a little complaining can help let off the steam on our pressure-cooker lives. We will have feelings and reactions and normal stress responses to things that upend our lives. I don’t believe in denying the pain and the struggle of our existence. I do believe that we can chose where we focus our attention, and learn to accept certain undeniable truths.

Everything will change, nothing is permanent, and pain is inevitable. We know we’ll have to live through some shit. Hard shit, unfair shit, tragic shit…all of the shit. That race track is just life, but how we manage our emotional state, our place in the world, and our response to all the shit, determines if we grow and survive or shrink and die. It also determines how much we’ll enjoy the ride.

Enter Gratitude. Yeah, I keep capitalizing it. Because I picture it as sort of a superhuman in our origin story. But Gratitude doesn’t have to be a big and imposing guy in tights, it can be a million tiny little fireflies peppered throughout our day, our weeks, our moments, that help to lighten the dark of existence. It isn’t very complicated and anyone can start a practice of gratitude.

Today, either in the morning when you wake, at night before bed, (or both if you’re feeling extra thankful) take a moment to write down three things that you’re grateful for. Then write down why they impact your life. It can be something as simple as “I woke up this morning and now I get to hug my kids” or “I have a job, that keeps food on the table” or “The sun is shining and its lighting the trees up like a painting” or “I had running water today, and a roof over my head. I’m safe and so is my family”. Some of these seem like no-brainers right? Except there are some that don’t have those things and we could be them just as easily with the flick of a bad weather pattern, a bad political coup, or the cogs of corporate greed. And it feels stupid and silly to be thankful for the sunshine when your battling cancer. It seems naive and idiotic to be grateful for that first, warm cup of coffee, when you’re behind on twenty different deadlines. It doesn’t seem like it matters to notice the good, small things. I know that. I’ve often thought it myself when I first started.

But once you start to look for the things that are good in your life, even the littlest, it’s like going hunting for fireflies. You’ll start to see them everywhere. And the more reasons you see to be thankful and grateful in life, the more light your world will become. We, in essence, can create our own reality by choosing to focus on the beautiful, strange, and charming of our lives. So… Do yourself and everyone who loves you a favor and go write down what you’re thankful for. I’ve found that it helps start my day off in a different mindset, and it actually helps me ease into sleep a little better. (That old “Count Your Blessings instead of Sheep” song from White Christmas has some clout)

I’ll start:

  1. I’m thankful for my children who teach me about myself and how to be a better person. I’m grateful that they are healthy and strong, and think for themselves
  2. I’m thankful for a warm bed, even though I wish I could spend more time in it, I’m glad to have it at the end of every day.
  3. I’m thankful for fall weather, the colors of the leaves and being able to see the painting they make everyday outside my window. Because it reminds me that nature is always in play, and her grand design is a comfort.