Writer Ellen Morris Prewitt Blog

I’m Bogged and I Know It

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on July 8, 2014. Posted in General. 4 Comments on I’m Bogged and I Know It

It’s hard to live in a place where you know you’re failing. When I first started writing, all my writing teachers gushed over my work. Rare voice, they said. True gift, they opined. Literary journals I admired–like the Chicago Review—sent me notes saying, we’re not taking this piece but we know we’re going to be reading about you in the future....

July 4th at My House

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on July 4, 2014. Posted in General. No Comments on July 4th at My House

The breeze blows through the open windows Letting in the Breeze The fountain plays Wind chimes add hidden notes Creatures still Waiting on the Saint Inside the fan whirls and we peer through screens at the wider world It’s hard to capture shadow and light Peace is easy Tonight we’ll watch the fireworks from the balcony and...

My Wednesdays

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on July 2, 2014. Posted in General. 3 Comments on My Wednesdays

I never know what to do with Wednesdays. At 8:00, I go to church. The priest sometimes stops the liturgy to urge us to look overhead and watch the light show: dust motes floating in the sunbeams from the stained glass windows. Today, because it’s Fourth of July week, the guitarist during communion plays “This Land is Your Land.”...

The Goose Neck

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on June 28, 2014. Posted in General. 5 Comments on The Goose Neck

A brief break from my commentary on the world cup

Dogs and the Dead

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on June 28, 2014. Posted in General. 9 Comments on Dogs and the Dead

Dogs don’t visit the dead. Lord knows, I’ve tried to get them interested. When we lost Lucy, I yanked Atticus and Providence down to the river bank where I stood gazing at her grave. They mostly sniffed and peed. When only Providence remained, she telegraphed her boredom loud and clear, even when I told her she would be lying next...

How Have Your Dreams Changed?

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on June 25, 2014. Posted in General. 4 Comments on How Have Your Dreams Changed?

(Written today at Door of Hope Writing Group) When I was in junior high, I wanted to be a Viking. A Viking wife, actually, who stood on the deserted beach and threw logs on a blazing bonfire as I gazed out to sea, awaiting the return of the long-unseen ship. In high school, I dreamed of moving to Maine and living on the pounding coastline where...

What’s Up with That?

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on June 24, 2014. Posted in General. No Comments on What’s Up with That?

Our most amazing accomplishments— sitting up standing on two feet taking a step talking in words that make sense— we get no credit for at all.

I Can’t Blame the Agent

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on June 23, 2014. Posted in General. 4 Comments on I Can’t Blame the Agent

If you’ve been following this blog, you know I spent about fourteen months attempting to rewrite my manuscript, Train Trip: Lucinda Mae’s Quest for Love, Honor, and the Chickens, into a novel a particular agent could successfully represent. At the end of this process, the agent declined representation. This is not her fault. Every...

The Spinning Plates are Real

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on June 22, 2014. Posted in General. 2 Comments on The Spinning Plates are Real

For those of you concerned about me after my Great Public Failure (I didn’t get an agent, to put this in perspective), here’s my current game plan: * send the Train Trip query to the paid-editor for tweaking: STATUS: DONE * send Model for Detective (When her model partner disappears, a Memphis fashion model uses her “clothes whisperer”...

As It Is Written

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on June 20, 2014. Posted in General. 8 Comments on As It Is Written

I have failed, utterly and totally. Yet I feel irrationally exhilarated. The agent I’ve been trying to please with a rewrite for the last year and a half (!), just sent me a final rejection, door shut, not even opened a crack. Instead of feeling stomped on, I feel relief. This is so strange. As a result of the revision process she triggered,...