I went to a ¨retreat on Sunday called “Writing on the River” for teachers who write that was organized by Project Write Now . The event was one of the best conferences I’ve ever attended. After spending the day with like-minded people and celebrating ME, I left with my spark for writing reignited.

Four years have passed since the event was last held thanks to the pandemic, and those years in between were filled with concern, fear, and unsustainable objectives for educators everywhere.

For educators who write like me, however, the objectives and demands were extra heavy. I put my own writing aside too many times because I was overwhelmed by professional responsibilities.

The result?

My mental well-being suffered greatly.

I should not have abandoned my words in a time when I most needed them.

As they say, hindsight is 20/20, but its time for me to put up or shut up in 20/23.

At the beginning of the retreat, everyone stood in a circle around the room and each person read a line from the remarkable piece “Why I Write” by Terry Tempest Williams. The lines I read aloud were, “I write to honor beauty¨ and “Ï write as a bow to the wilderness.”

Our task after we finished was to spend some time journaling about the reasons we write. Here is what I wrote:

Why do I write?

I write to paint with words because pens work better for me than brushes.

I write to cope with what I cannot control and to make sense of the absurd.

I write to find my place in the world and to belong to myself.

I write to grieve, and those words transform into something to celebrate.

I write to tame the monsters and to walk with the wild.

I write to quench my thirst for life.

I write to colorize my memories’ black-and-white film reels and to fill in the blank gaps.

I write to slow down the hamster running full speed in my mind and to give a voice to my thoughts.

I write to spark a light in the darkness.

I write to overcome the demons of my past, immerse myself fully in my present, and dream for my future.

I write to connect my soul with my heart and my heart with my mind.

I write because it is my religion, the blank page in front of me a baptism, my words a confession.

I write with the heart of my inner child, who still loves to play with toys and spin around under the warm sun  with her arms outstretched wide.

I write to feel what it means to be a human having a human experience and to honor all vibes, not just good vibes.

I write because I love the feeling of filling a blank page with words that roll off my pen or I strike on my keyboard with my fingers.

I write from a place which cannot be seen but exists just the same.

I write to remember, and to forget.

I write to keep close the laughter coming from my nieces and nephews.

I write when I am longing, and when I am satisfied.

I write because I have to.

I write because I need to.

I write because I write.

Why do you write?

-Jill Ocone

Thank you for joining me on my journey. I am glad you are here.

With light and gratitude,

Jill

“Why I Write” was posted on jillocone.com on March 21, 2023. Views and opinions expressed in this post are solely those of the writer, who was not endorsed or compensated in any manner by any entity; views do not represent any of my employers. Copyright 2023, Jill Ocone. All rights reserved. Contact jillocone@gmail.com with reposting, licensing, and publishing inquiries.

I am elated to announce that my essay, “Molly in My Heart”, was selected for publication in Winward Review’s Volume 19-Empathy and Entropy, which is now available online. “Molly In My Heart” can be found on pages 78-80.

The pandemic threw a lot of wrenches into the process from submission through publication, but the wait was worth it. 

The volume is filled with works like mine themed around the ideas of empathy and entropy. “Molly In My Heart” is about a childhood friend whom I still think about with love (I changed her name to protect her identity). Our world is full of acrimony and disorder, and as such, entropy is currently winning. Empathy is sorely needed across the board, and I hope that this issue reminds readers to understand and support others who are hurting in any fashion.

Windward Review is a student-operated, faculty-advised creative publication of Texas A&M University-Corpus Christi’s Islander Creative Writers and the Department of English.The editorial process is led by Dr. Robin Carstensen, who instructs English 4385: Studies in Creative Writing, Literary Publishing each spring semester and works with a core team in the summer and fall. Design and layout team is in partnership with Dr. Catherine Schumann and students in English 3378: Document Design and Publishing. Windward Review’s current editorial staff includes Dylan Lopez (Managing Editor), Zoe Elise Ramos (Senior Editor), Raven Reese (Co-Managing Editor), and Dr. Robin Carstensen (Faculty Advisor).

I’d like to thank Zoe Elise Ramos, who created a wonderful issue, for all of her hard work and for her perseverance. While the issue may not have conformed to original timelines, the final product is a beautiful testament of her dedication to her craft. Congratulations to all of the other artists included in the issue and to the editorial staff on such a poignant issue of Winward Review. It’s an honor to be among you.

Thank you for joining me on my journey. I am glad you are here.

With light and gratitude,

Jill

“Published in Winward Review’s Volume 19-Empathy and Entropy” was posted on jillocone.com on March 15, 2023. Views and opinions expressed in this post are solely those of the writer, who was not endorsed or compensated in any manner by any entity; views do not represent any of my employers. Copyright 2023, Jill Ocone. All rights reserved. Contact jillocone@gmail.com with reposting, licensing, and publishing inquiries.

Each year, I write down the date of the first time I hear the spring peepers singing in morning´s pre-dawn moments while walking into my school building. I have heard them as early as the last week of February in some years, whereas in others, it’s been as late as mid-April.

My heart galloped last Thursday when I heard them on March 2, 2023, much to the chagrin of the groundhog who predicted six more weeks of winter, I’m sure.

The song of the peepers is my favorite spring harbinger, for their chorus signals that we are on the downside of winter´s hump of darkness and cruising to more daylight hours and new life sprouting in nature. 

We still may have to deal with bone-chilling temperatures and sloppy precipitation, but the moment I can stop using my car´s seat warmer is hiding within the calendar. 

It won’t be long until the tiny blue and white weed flowers spring up between the cracks of the sidewalk or scattered among the fresh, green blades of grass and grape hyacinths shooting out of nowhere in the brown, barren yard.

Spring training baseball is another one of my favorite seasonal precursors. The cracks of the bats, the voices of announcers and umpires, and the cheers (or boos, as it may be) of the crowd on my television sends waves of comfort like no other through my body, and is one of the first indications we are collectively riding spring’s upswing.

And guess what? Yesterday, I noticed a neighborhood cherry tree’s delicate pink blossoms already open and facing the sun.

My intention this year is to slow down and delight in all things spring while disregarding distractions. I will watch the sunrise´s and sunset’s changing colors a little longer. I will inhale deep the clean, rain-sprinkled air and the fragrance of the honeysuckles riding the breeze any chance I get. I will run the silky satinness of new growth through my fingers. I will listen to the peepers and birds serenading the world at the day’s beginning and end. I will enjoy the taste of fresh, springtime strawberries and lie on the grass to watch the clouds pass by above me. I will take my time while walking in nature and let all of my senses play like a child. And most importantly, I will navigate my journey to publication with curiosity, enthusiasm, and pride.

Yes, I will enjoy this equinox and savor this spring.

Thank you for joining me on my journey. I am glad you are here.

With light and gratitude,

Jill

“Savor the Spring” was posted on jillocone.com on March 8, 2023. Views and opinions expressed in this post are solely those of the writer, who was not endorsed or compensated in any manner by any entity; views do not represent any of my employers. Copyright 2023, Jill Ocone. All rights reserved. Contact jillocone@gmail.com with reposting, licensing, and publishing inquiries.

I love to read, and in my younger days, I would read a book from cover to cover in as little as a week or less.

These days, I tend to accumulate piles of books, then crack open the covers of as many as I can during the summer months simply because I don’t have the energy, the focus, or the time to read much for pleasure during the school year.

However, the universe led me to noted music producer Rick Rubin’s new book, The Creative Act: A Way of Being, which was published by Penguin Press in January and has since become a #1 New York Times Bestseller.

As a lifelong fan of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, I recognized Rubin’s name immediately. He produced many of their albums, as well as the Beastie Boys’ License to Ill, Tom Petty’s Wildflowers and Echo, and a host of others. He also is an eight-time Grammy winner, and in 2007, MTV called him the “most important producer of the last 20 years. 

At first, I was skeptical, since I’m not at all musically inclined. What could the founder of Def Jam records and the producer behind so many successful albums teach me about creativity? 

I now have a new favorite book.

“I set out to write a book about what to do to make a great work of art. Instead, it revealed itself to be a book on how to be.” —Rick Rubin

Many famed music producers are known for a particular sound that has its day. Rick Rubin is known for something else: creating a space where artists of all different genres and traditions can home in on who they really are and what they really offer. He has made a practice of helping people transcend their self-imposed expectations in order to reconnect with a state of innocence from which the surprising becomes inevitable. Over the years, as he has thought deeply about where creativity comes from and where it doesn’t, he has learned that being an artist isn’t about your specific output, it’s about your relationship to the world. Creativity has a place in everyone’s life, and everyone can make that place larger. In fact, there are few more important responsibilities.

The Creative Act is a beautiful and generous course of study that illuminates the path of the artist as a road we all can follow. It distills the wisdom gleaned from a lifetime’s work into a luminous reading experience that puts the power to create moments—and lifetimes—of exhilaration and transcendence within closer reach for all of us.

From Amazon

Rubin’s book is chock full of practical affirmations and inspiration for everyone, not just for artists

I am a writer, and I am absolutely hooked on Rubin’s book.

His chapters are short snippets of grandiose wisdom and profound statements. I can read and absorb one every day without feeling overwhelmed by my job-related to-do lists or stressors.

The book has spoken to me so tremendously, I brought my copy, with a gazillion post-it flags fanning from its pages like feathers, to share with my writing group. 

Our leader, Mike, also brought his copy to share because the book had the same effect on him.

The universe at work, indeed.

I cannot recommend this book enough. Everyone will find a kernel of inspiration or a new way to see the “ordinary” or just “be” within its pages.

I’m about halfway done with reading this bible of creativity and inspiration, and I thought I’d share a few statements that really spoke to me.

Clouds never truly disappear. They change form. They turn into rain and become part of the ocean, and then evaporate and return to being clouds.

The same is true of art.

Art is the circulation of energetic ideas. What makes them appear ne is that they’re combining differently each time they come back. No two clouds are the same.

Page 14

Substitute the word “idea” or “creation” for “art,” if you don’t consider yourself an “artist,” and Rubin’s take still applies. 

When you’re working on a project, you may notice apparent coincidence appearing more often than randomness allows – almost as if there is another hand gilding yours in a certain direction. As if there is an inner knowing gently informing your movements. Faith allows you to trust the direction without needing to understand it. Pay particular attention to the moments that take your breath away – a beautiful sunset, an unusual eye color, a moving piece of music, the elegant design of a complex machine. If a piece of work, a fragment of consciousness, or an element of nature is somehow allowing us to access something bigger, that is its spiritual component made manifest. It awards us a glimpse of the unseen.

Pages 32-22

Rubin just described my experience from my soon-to-be-published-novel’s first seed through today. I’ve tried to use my words to tell others about my journey but never could fully explain my experience. In a few simple yet elegant sentences, Rubin did just that.

The world is constantly changing, so no matter how often we practice paying attention, there will always be something new to notice. It’s up to us to find it.

Page 56

Again, Rubin succinctly expresses something I’ve practiced for almost a decade now but had difficulty trying to explain. Look for the extraordinary in the ordinary!

The purpose of the work is to awaken something in you first, then allow something to be awakened in others. And it’s fine if they’re not the same thing. We can only hope that the magnitude of the charge we experience reverberates as powerfully for others as it does for us.

Pages 90-91

When I write something, whether it is a short snippet to share wisdom, like this post, or a larger piece such as a story or a novel, the best moments are when I feel the awakening inside of me. As a writer, my goal is always to hope that my reader experiences a similar feeling of awakening. And this book has awakened me in countless ways.

Ride the wave as long as it can be ridden. If you are fortunate enough to experience the strike of inspiration, take full advantage of the access. Remain in the energy of this rarefied moment for as long as it lasts. When flowing, keep going. Page 130.

Page 130

Simple yet so profound. Whatever your wave is, RIDE IT as long as you can.

The artist casts a line to the universe. We don’t get to choose when a noticing or inspiration comes. We can only be there to receive it. As with meditation, our engagement in the process is what allows the result.

Page 144

Again, I experience this so often, sometimes almost on a daily basis, but I’ve never been able to express this phenomenon in words. Rubin does, and it’s good advice, no matter your profession or role. 

It’s powerful. It’s profound. And it’s for YOU. Be inspired and see everything with new lenses by reading Rubin’s The Creative Act: A Way of Being.

Thank you for joining me on my journey. I am glad you are here.

With light and gratitude,

Jill

“Rick Rubin’s ‘The Creative Act: A Way of Being’ Will Change Your Life” was posted on jillocone.com on March 1, 2023. Views and opinions expressed in this post are solely those of the writer, who was not endorsed or compensated in any manner by any entity; views do not represent any of my employers. Copyright 2023, Jill Ocone. All rights reserved. Contact jillocone@gmail.com with reposting, licensing, and publishing inquiries.

I am beyond elated to share that I signed and submitted a publishing contract with Wild Rose Press for my debut novel earlier this week. This is an absolute dream come true, and I couldn´t be more thrilled. 

Longtime followers and treasured friends know the seeds for my novel were first planted years ago. Instead of neglecting those seeds, I nourished them by listening to the universe and following its breadcrumbs, and that led me to my main character, Kelly Lynch.

I finished the first version of the novel in 2018, but what you will read when it is published is quite different. Kelly´s story of navigating the seas of friendship and the storm of loss on her journey of self-discovery, which led her from the beaches of the Jersey Shore to Dublin, Ireland, will hopefully inspire readers long after they turn the last page. 

The most recent manuscript version grew from each previous one. I’d revise, send it out in queries to agents and publishers, receive rejections, take a break, then revise again, send it out, and so on.

Both perseverance and my passion for crafting Kelly’s story, which became stronger with each rejection, ultimately guided me to the right publication opportunity. I am incredibly grateful to my editor, Judi, for believing in my novel, and to Wild Rose Press for selecting my debut novel for publication.

I don’t know timelines of anything yet, but the next few months are going to be incredibly exciting as I sail upon uncharted waters towards eventually holding the final, published book in my hands. The novel´s name will be changing, as will some of its content during the editing process, but the changes will only enhance Kelly’s story as it continues to evolve.

I am abundantly grateful for all the kind words of encouragement and comments of congratulations I’ve received on my social media posts announcing my contract. If you took the time to leave me an encouraging word or two, I see you, I hear you, and I thank you for your role in my journey, whatever that may be. I cannot wait to share this next chapter with you.

With light and gratitude,

Jill

“The Perks of Perseverance” was posted on jillocone.com on February 22, 2023. Views and opinions expressed in this post are solely those of the writer, who was not endorsed or compensated in any manner by any entity; views do not represent any of my employers. Copyright 2023, Jill Ocone. All rights reserved. Contact jillocone@gmail.com with reposting, licensing, and publishing inquiries.

The clarity of my childhood memories varies, with some nonexistent and others hazy at best.

But a handful are crystal clear, like they might have happened just a few days ago.

I loved both school and books as a child, and one of my favorite places in my elementary school was the library. I can picture it in my mind like I’m standing within its magical walls… the circulation desk on the right, the brown faux wood carrels in the center, and the maze of bookshelves that seemed like they reached from the floor to the ceiling encircling them. 

It was so grand, the library, so big, and my love for books grew with each visit. I would wander and browse the shelves with wonder and never felt hurried, unlike Simon Mouse in one of my favorite books (which I renewed and reread countless times during second grade), “Hurry Up, Slowpoke” by Crosby Newall Bonsall. 

I also loved the book “The Littlest Leaguer” by Syd Hoff. I saw myself in Harold, the main character who also tended to be on the awkward side while lacking natural athletic ability. Harold rode the bench in the little league dugout because he was terrible at baseball. His small stature, however, proved useful, and he ended up making the play of the season when he was given the chance.

Score for the underdog! 

But it wasn’t the aisles of spines, the library’s blueprint or deliciously musty aroma, or even the special reading program I was selected for that kindled my love for books, and with it, my innate desire to write and read.

It was the woman behind that circulation desk.

Mrs. Barber.

Whether she was organizing the shelves, teaching us about the Dewey Decimal System, reading a book to my class, decorating for the holidays, or simply sharing a soft-spoken greeting alongside her kindhearted smile, Mrs. Barber was the heart of the library’s soul.

She’s in every memory I have of that library, even on the dark day when I learned the truth about Santa Claus. I was in fourth grade and a classmate told me, point blank, that Santa wasn’t real. I played it as cool as I could, masking my disillusion with aloofness, but once the library emptied of students, I cried like the dickens in the corner. Mrs. Barber’s comfort and solace in that moment softened the scars of losing a part of my innocence.

As luck would have it, Mrs. Barber was transferred to the high school at the start of my freshman year. I spent more time in the media center than any other room in the school building during my four years of high school reading, writing, studying, and volunteering alongside her warmth and grace. She never judged me and was a positive and warm confidant, especially when I most needed one, and was a true professional in never stepping over the faculty/student boundary. I even considered following in Mrs. Barber’s footsteps and becoming a school media specialist before another path was chosen for me.

Despite my best intentions to stay connected, I lost touch with Mrs. Barber after I graduated from high school in 1989.

Fast forward to the mid-2000s.

After checking out of the local grocery store on a day when humidity hung in the air, I wheeled my full cart through the exit vestibule into the mugginess and stopped at a table where a small, elder woman solicited donations for a nearby heart hospital. I handed her five-dollar bill, then our eyes connected and our faces lit up.

“Mrs. Barber!” I exclaimed as she said, “Jill!” in a similar, enthusiastic fashion. 

She rose to her feet and we hugged, and her frail arms warmed and comforted me just as they did on that dark Santa day. 

Twenty years had passed by in the blink of an eye, but here she was, well into her seventies, and she remembered ME.

We chatted for a while, me sharing a bit about my long and winding journey to becoming a teacher and her talking about her retirement and her family, especially her grandchildren. If my memory is correct, she also explained the hospital she was seeking donations for had made a tremendous impact on her life, and she saw it as her duty to pay them back.

We ran into each other a few more times in the early 2010s, same situation. She’d be manning a hospital donation table at the local grocery store, no matter how hot or how muggy the day, and she’d remember me every time. We’d talk for a bit and say, “See you next time!” while hugging farewell.

It’s been a few years since our last fortuitous run-in, but unfortunately, there won’t be a next time.

Mrs. Barber’s obituary ran in the local papers earlier this year.

She lived a full life and died at 94 years young. A classmate of mine posted a beautiful tribute on the funeral home’s obituary page about how much Mrs. Barber influenced her love of reading, and I couldn’t agree more.

If it weren’t for Mrs. Barber, I would not have discovered my love for books as a six-year-old, which led to a love of reading and igniting my inherent inclination to write.

Everyone deserves to have a Mrs. Barber in their life, someone who sparks a light that leads to wonder and discovery, and if we’re lucky, to our true purpose.

Mrs. Barber was that spark for me.

I thought about these immortal words from Ralph Waldo Emerson when I read Mrs. Barber’s obituary:

What is success? To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate the beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Mrs. Barber, you laughed often and much. You won the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children. You earned appreciation and you endured. You appreciated beauty and found the best in others. You left the world a whole lot better. You made me breathe easier because you lived.

You succeeded, and I thank you.

Thank you for joining me on my journey. I’m glad you’re here.

With light and gratitude,

Jill

“Everyone Deserves a Mrs. Barber” was posted on jillocone.com on February 15, 2023. Views and opinions expressed in this post are solely those of the writer, who was not endorsed or compensated in any manner by any entity; views do not represent any of my employers. Copyright 2023, Jill Ocone. All rights reserved. Contact jillocone@gmail.com with reposting, licensing, and publishing inquiries.