Fall is upon us, providing inspiration to writers everywhere. Today is October 7, but this year the Harvest Moon was in its glory yesterday on October 6. It will be bright for several evenings because of its celestial positioning during the autumnal equinox. The Harvest Moon has always been a traditional time for celebrations, both in the West and in the East. For the Chinese, mooncakes are the center of celebrations. A close Chinese friend reminded me last month to be sure and order my mooncakes, so I have had two packages tucked away in my fridge since September 27. If you have never tried a mooncake, they are delicious!
As every season manifests its glory, I think, “Oh, this is my favorite season!” What I love about fall is the intense blue of the sky in Colorado, the days with perfect weather, the aspens turning gold, the maples turning red, the hackberries turning yellow, and the crunch of leaves as I walk. A fond memory is that of my huge Bouvier des Flandres chasing an immense, dry, and rattling leaf down our driveway in the fall. She was so proud when she caught it.
Fall is an energizing time, as mammals busily tuck away food for the winter, birds fly overhead heading south, students return to classrooms, and all the town meetings that took the summer off resume. I find the autumn a satisfactory time to read, write, and reflect as I enjoy the warmth of my fireplace in the evening.
What is your favorite fall pastime? Football games? Bike rides? Going to your local Oktoberfest? Shopping for warmer clothes? Changing your sheets from cotton to flannel? Stocking up on matzo ball soup? Whatever your favorite pastime is, don’t forget to take a walk and enjoy the invigorating air and the beautiful blue skies.
My Writing Goals for 2025
- Continue to develop my poetry and connections with other poets:
Bardic Trails: The Talking Gourds/Bardic Trails is a monthly Zoom presentation of poets, followed by an open mic, which is broadcast from Telluride, Colorado. Today, Bardic Trails featured Ghost Stories told by Betsy Quammen. Some participants shared spooky ghost stories of their own.
Colorado Poetry Center: Each month, Beth Franklin, the director of the Colorado Poetry Center, hosts poetry readings at the Boulder Book Store. In September, the featured poets were Sheryl Luna, whose recent book, Magnificent Errors, received the Ernest Sandeen Prize at Notre Dame, and Stan Deetz, who read from his book Between….
Columbine Poets: The Columbine Poets Fest in September featured George Kalamaras, who was the poet laureate of Indiana from 2014 to 2016 and who is a professor emeritus at Purdue University Fort Wayne. Kalamaras has published twenty-four books of poetry. At the Columbine Poets Fest, my unpublished poem, There, Then Bare, was recognized. On September 20, I gave an in-person presentation for the Columbine Poets on the nineteenth-century French poet, Paul Verlaine.
I also attended an online workshop on Haiku, Tanka, and Cinquain forms led by Brenda Wildrick. During the workshop, I tried my hand at these three short poetry forms.
Cannon Mine Poets: The Cannon Mine Poets group in Lafayette, now hosted by Abby Seber, highlighted Larry LaVerdure in September. Larry read from his lifetime of inspiring work.
Celebrations of Poets: This month, I saw an early screening of Come See Me in the Good Light, a documentary about the local poet, Andrea Gibson, who died on July 14, 2025, of cancer. It was heart-rending.
- Continue to make progress on my draft novels:
Finish my first novel and query agents (IW): I bought a printer so that I could print the entire novel out and make revisions. Then, my writer friends told me it would make more sense to have it printed at the local print shop. I will take their advice.
Finish my second novel (G): I attended a Boulder Writers Alliance workshop presented by Asa Henderson and Nicholas Dunbar on Writing Richer Conflicts: Beyond Good and Evil, and applied their process to a character in my draft novel.
Continue to work on my third novel (PW): I combined my individual documents into one long document.
3. Continue to develop a network of kindred spirits in the world of writing and publishing:
Boulder Writers Alliance: I hosted the BWA Poetry Circle in September. Our speaker was Lisa Berley, who spoke about writing “erasure” and “found” poetry—both methods that I would like to try out for myself.
Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers: I read the newsletter and talked with friends who had attended the conference.
Women Writing the West: I am looking forward to the online conference on October 17–18, 2025.
4. Document my writing progress through my blog and post it on the seventh day of each month, one blog per month in 2025:
Today is October 7, 2025. I am posting my tenth blog for this year. September was a productive month for me—something about the fall weather puts wind in my sails. I wrote several poems in September and also read some aloud at the open mic sessions that accompanied readings that I attended.
A Poem for October
Paul Laurence Dunbar, 1872–1906, authored numerous collections of poetry and prose. Dunbar was one of the first African American poets to receive national recognition. I love this poem by Dunbar:
October
October is the treasurer of the year,
And all the months pay bounty to her store;
The fields and orchards still their tribute bear,
And fill her brimming coffers more and more
But she, with youthful lavishness,
Spends all her wealth in gaudy dress,
And decks herself in garments bold
Of scarlet, purple, red, and gold.
She heedeth not how swift the hours fly,
But smiles and sings her happy life along;
She only sees above a shining sky;
She only hears the breezes’ voice in song.
Her garments trail the woodlands through,
And gather pearls of early dew
That sparkle, till the roguish Sun
Creeps up and steals them every one.
But what cares she that jewels should be lost,
When all of Nature’s bounteous wealth is hers?
Though princely fortunes may have been their cost,
Not one regret her calm demeanor stirs.
Whole-hearted, happy, careless, free,
She lives her life out joyously,
Nor cares when Frost stalks o’er her way
And turns her auburn locks to gray.
