Dune Hollow Writers: Writers Welcome

by Joan Flynn

Joan Flynn

I was a happy, oblivious writer for many years, penning verses for family birthdays and anniversaries, bleeding my heart onto paper during my tumultuous teens. Writing gave me a vehicle for all that chaotic busyness going on inside.

And then, in my early twenties, I had a disastrous weekend at a poetry critique which led me away from sharing my words for a long time.

Those other writers, none of whom I knew, took the words that had come from the deepest places inside of me and made them seem silly and frivolous.

I came away wounded, unsure that anything I wrote was worthy of sharing ever again. It felt like I'd been an imposter. Who did I think I was, forcing others through the agony of hearing another ho-hum missive from me?

Yet, my fingers itched to spool out the phrases and impressions that crowded my head and woke me at 3 a.m., so I wrote, but I kept it to myself; sort of an apologetic secret.

It was a lonely time. I missed sharing with others and hearing their words. And then, in the early 1980's, someone told me about a writing group in Northampton, MA, near to where I lived, that sounded safe and supportive; that made me want to take a chance again. It changed my life.


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Winter Beach

by Ginia Pati 2011

Treasure these cold, gray winter days
when a slicing, brittle wind calls forth,
Daring you to walk miles, within
its swirling howls … daring you,
To raise your gaze … focused to
the harsh, infinite sea beyond.

Open wide your eyes … celebrate the
white arctic birds who frolic
In their diving froth and swords of spray,
take in their pleasure and make it yours.

Challenge yourself, to this existential nakedness,
open your bone marrow to the howling wind,
Gather in gratitude, … the fierce isolation
of oneness … the purity of single wholeness.

With the weight of each determined footstep,
heed not the calloused frozen sands
Fraught from ceaseless ice shards
pounding them to crystals of mica and quartz.

Remember the strength … of such a delicate beauty
wrought pure by constant reshaping.
Keep walking … walking 'til finally your soul
will howl forth in triumphant song …
Like the raucous glee of soaring gulls, knowing
full well …. the Joy of Freedom!

Following Ginia's years at the United Nations in NYC, she moved to Orleans and joined CHA Magazine.

The exquisite presence of our ever changing sea and earth, nourish both the heart and the pen ....along with the community of writers at Dune Hollow!


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Arm Chair Critic

Patricia B. Bertschy Reviews:

97 Orchard: An Edible History of Five Immigrant Families in One New York Tenement

97 Orchard is a story of immigration, food, and life in the tenements of New York City at the turn of the 20th Century.

Jane Ziegelman's book reads like a novel as she traces the lives of five families – German, Irish, Prussian Jew, Russian and Italian, who shared the address of 97 Orchard between 1880 and 1920.


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Dune Hollow Writers

sharing our creative voice

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