The Cliff

April 4, 2023 / Laura Joy Palma / Leave a comment

As the harsh winds blow,Against my cold, forlorn face,My tears of sorrow fall to the ground.The petals of my flower of love,Wilting at disappointment.The stresses build, forming a rigid cliff,Off which I plunge,Towards the raging seas below.I am swallowed in the deep waves,Blinded by the darkness,And all signs of light and hope,Are carried off with … Continue reading The Cliff

Words Aren’t Wasted on Tragedy

April 4, 2023April 5, 2023 / Laura Joy Palma / Leave a comment

Tragedy. It’s not just the play genre of Julius Caesar that my students are studying in English class. There are three children in Nashville who will never read Shakespeare after a senseless shooting at a Christian school. We may prefer the comedies, but what do we do when life’s writing tragedies all around us? Cry? Pray? Question? Read, write, talk about it? Grief is unique...

How Writing Others’ Stories is Writing a Better MeJune 6, 2023
Last Thursday driving east to where home used to be, my mind swelled with stories. It always does, but they used to be about me. This time in the eight hours from Pickens, SC to Hampton, VA, I was bursting with ideas from three interviews in the days prior. Evan, Sue, Chris. When I visit, I’ve got so many friends and family to see that I couch surf from home to home, no desk in sight. Those had been vacations. Now, I’m a writer. Where would these people’s stories come to life?
Summer Shift: When Teacher Becomes StorytellerMay 30, 2023
On Friday, I woke up a teacher for the last time in the foreseeable future. My classroom is now boxed in my carport storage, an easy fit. The question was what to do with my rolling teacher desk. My principal called it the Cadillac of carts, I called it my classroom on wheels, and my students called it fidget toy one-stop-shopping. I unpacked it in the carport, put the screws back in, looked around at the sea of green and blue country, heard the birds, felt the breeze, and realized I’d unlocked the greatest writing real estate.
The Lessons I Learned at Alternative SchoolMay 23, 2023
For ten months, I’ve chanted it every day with my kids at alternative school, our mantra: “This is my life. This is my story. I will love it or regret it based on my daily choices.” The first recitation alone didn’t change me, but repetition worked it into my DNA. Our choices, love or regret them, write our stories. Could all our pensive meanderings for how to live a better life really boil down to something so simple?
I Used to BeMay 21, 2023
Originally posted on Writer's Growth:
I used to be a writer and a poet and a novelist. And a singer. And an actress. And a media tech. And a…
Pain ManagementMay 16, 2023
We avoid pain, but its presence tells us something is wrong. I knew I needed a root canal and two trigger thumb surgeries this month. After each procedure, the affected areas remained numb for hours, and I was told to avoid use until that wore off; absent pain, I could cause further damage. Is the same true for emotional pain, and if so, do our human efforts to numb and avoid it actually damage us more?
When You’re Not a MotherMay 12, 2023
Originally posted on Writer's Growth:
I love my mother, but not Mother’s Day. ?It comes every year.? I can set my biological watch by it.? Like the incremental changes…
For the Love of LaurelsMay 9, 2023
If I Were a Peony was the first of my analogical musings. During a Sunday afternoon meandering the South Carolina Botanical Gardens with Mama Sue, some flora is worth further consideration further, and so is some counsel that was not your garden variety.
And He’ll Do It AgainMay 4, 2023
Originally posted on Writer's Growth:
It’s the first night in a week I haven’t been up on the surgical floor at Sentara tracking my brother’s progress.? I feel the…