I’m a Real Person

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Feminist, Author, Lover of Cats

Disembodied 3rd person bio:

Laraine Herring holds an MFA in creative writing and an MA in counseling psychology. Her short stories, poems, and essays have appeared in national and local publications, including The New York Times. Her fiction has won the Barbara Deming Award for Women and her nonfiction work has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize. She is a retired professor of creative writing and psychology, a member of the Author’s Guild and the American Association of University Professors, and the founder of Hags on Fire, an online ‘zine for women to write about their experiences with perimenopause, menopause, and aging.

She lives with four cats and a lot of books and more Apple products than necessary. Her husband lives down the street!

Pronouns: she/her/hers

Favorite Books: Changing all the time!

The Art Lover - Carole Maso

Bluets - Maggie Nelson

We Were Witches - Ariel Gore

The Ultraviolet Sky - Alma Luz Villanueva

Into the Dream House - Carmen Maria Machada

The Chronology of Water - Lidia Yuknavitch

Circadian - Chelsey Clammer

Early Influences:

  • William Faulkner

  • Toni Morrison

  • Elvis Presley

  • Robert Johnson

  • Beverly Cleary

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“Time shrinks.

Love expands.”

— My dad

This is my dad and I, circa 1969, in Charlotte, NC.

He died in 1987 and I became a different person. I wrote things I’d have never written. I entered the field of grief counseling. I learned how to merge psychology and writing.

I learned nothing is guaranteed.

I was diagnosed with colon cancer in 2017 and I became a different person. I wrote things I’d have never written.

See the pattern?

I learned nothing is guaranteed.

Credentials

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I love to write.

I love to help writers.

 
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The Velveteen Rabbit shaped my life.


I’ve been teaching over 30 years. I’ve taught writing workshops with folks from 5 - 98. I worked as a poet-in-the-schools and I was a playwright-in-residence at a black box theatre in Phoenix called Planet Earth. I have taught writing and yoga workshops nationally at the Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health and The Omega Institute in New York. I’ve taught at the community college level full-time since 2005, teaching and developing curriculum ranging from developmental writing courses to innovative freshman composition sequences to advanced creative writing classes. I also teach psychology. (Hint: psychology and creative writing = storytelling alchemy!)

I’ve worked as a book coach for Author Accelerator, as well as with many private clients. I’ve also worked as a grief counselor at The New Song Center for Grieving Children, Camp Paz and Stepping Stones for Hope. I wrote a grant that allowed me to develop writing workshops specifically for women in transitional housing and women in addiction treatment. I’ve conducted writing workshops in juvenile detention facilities, Girl Scout Camps, and a pop-up workshop on train car in Italy.

I’ve helped literally thousands of writers with their work.


 

I believe our writing is an integral part of our soul’s business.

If it’s in you, you must use it.

It’s what makes you real.

What’s the Monkey Story?

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Keezel at Mohonk Mountain Resort in upstate New York.

He found the furniture squishy!

Keezel and I in San Francisco at Ocean Beach.

Keezel and I in San Francisco at Ocean Beach.

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Keezel strikes a pose!

Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health

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Keezel likes gifts of pine cones!

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Keezel and his friend Penguin.

Omega Institute, Rhinebeck, NY.

Laraine Herring chatting with Julie Maloney of Women Reading Aloud.

Recorded January 28, 2021.

Laraine Herring & Christine Corrigan in Conversation

Recorded February 4, 2021.

 

So, what’s the deal with the monkeys? Besides the fact that the word ‘monkey’ makes you smile, what do monkeys have to do with writing?

 In 2007, my husband and I were at a family reunion in northern California. We took a trip to the Santa Cruz boardwalk where I spotted a stuffed green monkey hanging by his long arms at a dart booth. I had to have that monkey. Right then.

After a few very expensive games of darts, the monkey was mine. My father-in-law named him Keezel and before long, Keezel began to chat us up as if he’d known us for lifetimes.

Relevant backstory: I love puppets, and I’ve done lots of work with puppet therapy helping kids work through grief in therapeutic settings. This makes me unable to hold a stuffed animal and not somehow animate it.

 Keezel developed his own personality quickly, and on a whim I decided to take him to my workshops. He made his debut at Kripalu in January of 2008, and little did I know he’d be the hit of the retreat. Something about his smile or his essential green-ness made people laugh and feel safe, and then, when they’d relaxed, they could clear some of the blocks they’d built up around their own writing hearts.

Keezel brought a lightness and a sense of play to my work. He sparked magic in people. He helped us not be so serious all the time so we could be, well, serious about what matters, and he guided us away from too much thinking so we could be surprised by feeling. And surprise and discovery, Fierce Monkeys, is the fire that stokes a writing life. Stories evoke emotion. So, we best feel some ourselves.

Keezel makes an appearance at all my retreats now. He sets a whimsical tone so that together we can journey to the necessary depths to create meaningful, authentic stories. And he loves to dance to Prince. He’s partial to the electric guitar solo in “Let’s Go Crazy”. And sometimes he recites the deep wisdom of 80s songs in the form of spoken word poetry, too.

But there’s more than Keezel to the whole monkey-dom here. Monkeys figure prominently in literature and in the Chinese Zodiac (and yes, I was born in 1968, the Year of the Monkey!)

 Monkey qualities in the Chinese Zodiac include mischievousness, cleverness, and curiosity. Monkey-folk are playful problem solvers. They are intuitive, ambitious, and good time managers, but above all—they are persistent. You’ve no doubt heard the adage: Given enough time, a monkey could type out Hamlet. Well, maybe or maybe not. But the writer who doesn’t quit will write much more than the writer who gets up and shifts gears every time a new shiny thing enters the room.

In Hindu mythology, Hanuman the monkey-god is a pivotal character in the Ramayana. He is the god Rama’s best friend, ally and devotee. Hanuman is a symbol of the unlimited power that lies unused within each of us. He perfectly exemplifies devotion—through laser-sharp focus, he finds freedom. Hanuman surrenders himself to something larger.

Writers do this every time we sit down at the keyboard. We have to get out of our own way so that whatever Stories are calling to us can come in. We are in service to and alliance with our writing.

What can writers learn from actual monkeys (260 known species!) on planet Earth?

Monkeys are curious. What’s that storyline about? Who are you? Why are you in my story? What does that image have to do with anything? Writers need to follow the questions to find the heart of their work. Writers who know everything don’t get very far.

Monkeys persevere. You want the super-secret to writing? Butt in chair. Write. Repeat. You’re welcome.

Monkeys take care of themselves. It is not selfish to take care of yourself first. It’s not unfair to others to cultivate space and time to do your work.

Monkeys are playful. You know. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. But maybe not that extreme.

Monkeys are omnivores. Of course you can be a vegetarian or a vegan. Writers need to be omnivores of experiences. We need to examine everything we encounter with an open heart and then decide what will best nourish us. We never know what will spark the story.

Monkeys are crazy flexible. I can’t stand on my head, but it’s cool if you can. Flexibility in writing comes from understanding how to adjust and realign when something isn’t working. Our lives are not stagnant. Neither is our writing practice. 

And yeah, the word monkey makes you smile. It’s a whole lot easier to write when you’re smiling.  I’m smiling right now just thinking about you smiling! In a totally non-creepy way.

Monkeys aren’t stalkers.