Words from a Reader

The “Writing Life Stories” e-mails I receive are such treasures. As soon as I see there is one in my inbox, I read it immediately. I look forward to them and never know how they will touch me. They can be interesting, informative, humorous, and/or touching.
Showing posts with label Glenda Beall's classes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Glenda Beall's classes. Show all posts

Thursday, April 22, 2021

A new class begins and I take a fall

Next Tuesday will be my second class on Zoom for the spring session. 




A writing Class I taught some years ago

I am grateful for all the people I have met and still communicate with years later. After taking writing classes at the John C. Campbell Folk School and then teaching there, my contact list is brimming with names of men and women who are dear to me. At Tri-County Community College, which is near where I live, I met locals who want to learn the best way to write and share their stories. From 1996 until a couple of years ago, TCCC was a big part of my life. The pandemic shut down our Community classes there as well as any face-to-face classes. Although I miss those days, I like my Zoom classes. I enjoy teaching a man who lives in South Dakota and learning about his life. One of my students in the present class lives far away from where I live, but still, she is in North Carolina.

This has been a difficult week for me with a home accident that slowed me down a bit. I will have ex-rays on Friday to see if I have a fracture, but I have rested and used heat and cold so I feel sure I will be doing better soon.

The weather has been sunny and beautiful, but today was cold and we will have freezing temps this week at night. I guess it is just as well that I can't go shopping for plants and flowers. Far too soon, I'm told. Spring fooled me again.  I think I will wait to start my deck garden until after Mother's Day.

If you like poetry, visit our Netwest Writers to read good poetry by poets who are my friends and fellow writers here in the mountains.

Have a good week and thanks for reading my posts. I love to hear from you.


Sunday, April 14, 2019

Writing about our lives, our families and ourselves

Today is Sunday already. I slept most of Saturday. I needed the rest from the chronic pain I seem to live with daily now.

But I am working on getting it under control. I have a writing class coming up on April 30, Tuesday at 2:00 PM. This is a memoir class sponsored by ICL, the Institute of Continuing Learning at Young Harris College.

ICL has been around for a number of years and they engage talented instructors in varied subjects that teach classes for adults, most of them retired people who live in our area. I have learned from some excellent teachers there, and I have taught several times as well.

Once an older adult told me, "My grandchildren think I grew up when people traveled in covered wagons, so I decided I needed to write about what my life was like."

I have been told, "I don't know how I can write about seventy years of life. It is just too overwhelming!"

That is why I help my students write about the most important parts of their lives and they can take it one small part at the time. You know the old saying How do you eat an elephant? One bite at the time.



When I wrote my family history book, I decided to write about my grandfather and grandmother and their ten children. I told the stories of each one of them in a few pages, and then I added the genealogy of each of them. They were not rich or famous, but their lives were examples of rural life in the late eighteen hundreds and early twentieth century in north Florida and south Georgia.

My grandfather, Tom Council, was born in 1858, a short while before the Civil War began. His father served in the war and was taken prisoner. They lived in a rural area south of Tallahassee, Florida. Everyone in the family worked in the fields on the farm.

Tom's first child, a girl, was born in 1878 or 1879. His first son, born in 1883, died at the age of 14 from malaria. He is buried at the Council Cemetery in Wakulla County Florida.

The family moved up to south Georgia after John Henry died and the other children had a completely different life. The cotton mills were being built in the south by men from the north. Since there were no child labor laws at the time, all of the children in the family worked in the mill. The girls enjoyed their new life much better than working on the farm. In their teens, they married and began families. 

In the 1920s, Florida began booming with growth and drew most of the family members to the Tampa area. All of my father's brothers and sisters ended up down there. I still have many cousins in the Sunshine State.

I was so fortunate that my mother and my cousins told me their stories. I had to edit most of them and tried to include only the most interesting parts for my readers. 

Now I am working on writing about my brothers and sisters and my parents. Each one of them has a story that is unique and interesting. I hope I do them justice.

My mission in teaching is to help my students create interesting nonfiction narratives while including the facts in their lives or the lives of their family members. We can only do our best to tell the truth as we know it and remember it because no two people will remember exactly the same things. 

I look forward to my classes, hearing the stories written by my students and helping them create the best narrative they can. We write short pieces that I use to teach the basics in writing. 

My classes are listed on www.glendacouncilbeall.com under Studio Classes and Off site Classes. I am so pleased when students write to me and tell me how much they enjoy our time together.


Sunday, April 28, 2013

HEALING, WRITING AND TAKING WRITING CLASSES

For my writer friends, I have a couple of prompts for you. We used these in our last class at Tri-County College this week. I decided to write along with my students and enjoyed remembering an uncle who has long since passed on.

The prompt: I will never forget her/his voice...

Another prompt: It was an ordinary day...
Many times our greatest triumphs or our greatest tragedies happen on what begins as an ordinary day.

This is a course for anyone who has ever lost a loved one, gone through a divorce, been emotionally damaged by life and for people who enjoy writing. 

Some of our best writers, most acclaimed authors, found that writing was a way to deal with their childhood abuse both mental and physical. Sylvia Plath was one of them. From those writings came some of their best work. 
Henry Miller was on the verge of suicide because his wife had left him for a mutual friend, a woman, when he found himself at his typewriter pouring out his sorrow and anger on paper. His best selling books, Tropic of Cancer and Tropic of Capricorn, resulted from this kind of writing. 

While I sat with my ill husband for weeks in the hospital and then in a hospice center, my writing saved my sanity, I believe. Drugs kept him sleeping most of the time, and I sat with my laptop open and writing everything I was thinking, feeling, hoping for and afraid of. Little did I know that what I was doing was helping me physically. 

In the class on Healing through Writing, we will practice some of the techniques from Dr. Pennebaker's research on opening up about trauma in our lives. We will not always share what we write, but it is a good possibility that we will discover things we had not thought about ourselves, and we might come up with a few publishable essays or poems.