A Little Bit of Baking

The other day I made lemon bars. But, full disclosure: I was very distracted and ruined them.

To give you a peek into my life, I’ve got this husband. He’s a really sweet guy. He forgets everything. And by everything, I mean, everything important. I can understand if he forgets his lunch one day. Everyone does that. But on Friday, as I walked out the door I said, “Will you please call our landlord to come pick up the rent?” (Our landlord is strange. He makes rent very difficult.) My husband said yes.

Later that day, I’m sitting in my Fiction class and I think, husband probably didn’t call the landlord. So I text my husband. Sure enough, he’d forgotten about the rent.

So I’m at Walmart, picking up stuff for lemon bars, fuming away, and I grab yellow cake mix instead of lemon cake mix. I realize this when I get home. I think, it’s too late now. So I pour a bunch of lemon juice in the mix. The batter ends up gooey and unspreadable. The pan shows no mercy.

However, the lemon bars turn out fine. They taste lemon-y. Dare I say…they taste GOOD. In fact, I do believe I’ve created my own recipe.

Which, of course, brings me to writing…because what doesn’t bring me to writing? There is no recipe for writing. You can throw together whatever you want, as long as you’re getting the central idea, nay, the central question to come together in the end. Sure I didn’t have the correct ingredients, but I got a good result. My point is, don’t give up on that recipe (writing) you’re trying out. It’s going somewhere.

Is it just me or are these posts making less and less sense?

Anyway, come to Helicon West on Thursday! It’s been TOO long, people. And it’ll be a good one. We’ve got Ken Brewer and Will Pitkin, as well as guest readers Star Coulbrooke, Paul Crumbley, Jerry Fuhriman, and Bill Strong. Let’s see what they’ve been cooking up.


Current Events

So something happened last night. I’ll be vague about it, but also up front: Donald Trump was elected as the new President of the United States.

In my Advanced Non-Fiction class, my teacher, Jennifer Sinor, opened up a discussion about how we all felt knowing the election results. She told us that this election would go down in history no matter who was elected, and we’re part of that history.

Of course, this made me think of writing. Of course. I mean, what else do I do? But think about the world–this messed up, warped, beautiful place we live, where we’re all learning together how to live in harmony. That’s like writing. We try to connect the pieces of our lives that make us feel. We share with others so they can connect, too. Through this process, we discover. And hopefully find our own center, where we can exist in peace.

That being said, I know quite a few of the featured readers this week: Ben Gunsberg’s poetry class! I am so excited for the poems they’ll share. I’m excited for us to all join together to listen and understand and feel. It keeps us sane.


See you tomorrow!

Haunted Helicon (Not Really)

So, Halloween. Ghost stories. Urban legends. Clowns. Helicon West.

If you need something interesting to do during this week of spookiness, try legend tripping. In the cemetery in Logan on 12th East, there is a grave with a statue of a woman. Apparently, during a night with a full moon, if you hold hands with friends, circle the grave three times, and say, “Weep, woman, weep!” over and over–the statue should develop tears.

So Halloween isn’t a full moon. It’s a new moon. Maybe that’s even better! Darker. Scarier. Try it. And if you get in trouble, I was never here.

Meanwhile, we’ve got Helicon West TOMORROW. I can’t promise it will be spooky, but I can promise that it will be good. Come enjoy. There’s usually free coffee.



The Large Rock


The other day, my husband and I hiked (and I use that term lightly–it’s probably more of a walk) to the Bonneville Shoreline Trail. The path curves around the mountain and allows for the best views through the canyon. Leaves fell around us from wind and age, orange and red flurries. We went past the old Concrete Jungle, where people used to be able to go and spray paint pictures and words and expressions of Logan. Now security cameras watch every move. The water from First Dam reflected the sky, all dark trees and orange sunset.

Since the sun started to tuck behind the mountains, we headed back to our car. On the way down the short switchback, we came across two men rummaging through rocks. One man held a large rock in his hand, speckled and worn.

I felt strange. We decided to hurry past them and not draw too much attention. What if the men planned to bash our heads with the rock? And also, why is that our first thought?

The man stopped us and said, “I’m collecting rocks that look like this.”

“Wow,” we said. “You’ll probably find a lot.”

We kept walking, and quickly, and I pictured the rock hurtling through the air to bash the back of my head. My husband said he pictured the same thing.

But the rock never flew. And we made it safely to our car.

Maybe some people really do just like to search for big rocks when it’s almost completely dark outside. Maybe. We all have our stuff.

And we all know Helicon West’s stuff is writing and reading and joining together for stories just like this–no definitive ending, but instead one that leaves reader’s wondering.


A Thought Circle

Today is Columbus Day. And on this day about seven years ago, a fortune cookie told me something spectacular would happen. I remember sitting in my room and waiting for something spectacular to burst through my door. And when nothing came, I thought to myself, “Maybe fortune cookies are wrong.”

Speaking of fortune cookies, this morning I climbed into my husband’s car, only to find that I sat on one of the packaged crunchy cookies. I said, “Oh, so you ate Chinese food recently?” (A bit of backstory: I don’t see my husband very often. He works 10-8 every day, and most of the time he is in Layton, so it’s more like an 8:30-9 shift each day. So yes, it’s completely normal for me to not know what he’s eaten. And yes, we are trying to find him a new job.) He told me that he didn’t eat Chinese food, but actually, a guy he worked with gave him the fortune cookie and said, “I know how much you love these.” My husband said that they have never talked about fortune cookies. Ever.

Which makes me wonder, what do people remember about me when they see me? Something true or not true?

Which makes me think about history, of course. What really happened?

Which brings us back to Columbus, in a way.

But if you really want to be a part of history, what better way than to write? And to share your writing? So thank you, Columbus, for discovering America. If you had not done so, we would not have Helicon West tomorrow, and that makes these days spectacular. So maybe my fortune cookie was just a couple years behind.

Join us tomorrow! The program will be just as splendid as ever!


A Pretty Time

Last weekend my husband and I went to Zion’s to try some hikes. I’d just ordered Teva’s and I was pretty excited about that. We were prepared to pay the $30+ to get into the park, but a ranger told us that day was free. It was a miracle.

We went up to the Narrows, a hike I’ve never done. Everyone talks about how great it is, so we thought we’d give it a shot.

Well, the canyon was beautiful. The red rock shined in sun shadow, green plants grew from the walls, some upside down and some with vines hanging. The trail is mostly through a river, so we sloshed our way through. We sat on a large boulder to take a break, and watched others take the trail. Some held hands to cross the river, some looked for smooth spots and all around us the canyon towered.

And people are so NICE, when they’re hiking, have you noticed? We could all say hi to each other and laugh when my Teva’s caught on underwater rocks and I’d flail my arms like a ceiling fan. The people told me to protect my toes.

So anyway, nature is beautiful, you are beautiful, and the featured readers at Helicon West next Thursday are certainly beautiful. Their words will speak to your soul, and they’ll light you up like the same shadowy sunlight I enjoyed in the wild.


A New Kind of Home


Logan, Utah has the best group of writers ever. I’ve seen it in all different forms–Helicon West (of course), the writing department on campus, the Cache Valley Writing Center, etc.

I’ve known for a while that we have the greatest people in this area, but last night that sentiment was reaffirmed. A group of us gathered at a fire pit to roast s’mores and read our writing, and a storm came rolling in.

Really, thunder boomed it’s very loudest, there was lightning in the distance, and all our various fliers advertising all things writing flew away in the huge gusts of wind.

Did we give up? Did we say, screw it, let’s all go home?

No. We went inside a random dorm building.

The whole group came inside, regardless of the lack of s’mores, and the strange venue, and we read our writing and enjoyed each other’s company.

Because writing bonds people. The writing community here gives you a place that feels like a new kind of home. A place where everyone collaborates and cheers for each other and maybe we even snap instead of clap. Depends on the day.

So Helicon West isn’t this week, but next week we will be excited to see new faces in the Logan library. Come and feel the good feelings for yourself.

:’) All the cheesiness in one post. But you know you needed to hear it.