Archive for the ‘Creative Writing’ category

Watch “Tony Hillerman Writers Conference 2014 – Felicia Lujan” on YouTube

December 28, 2018

Missing this conference…

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My Lil Hillerman Interview

September 19, 2015

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This interview is from the 2014 conference. It just went up on the Wordharvest channel on YouTube this week, so I wanted to share it. I’m honored to have my interview footage alongside those of several famous and infamous authors. Unfortunately, the sun was in my eyes, so I’m squinting through the whole thing!

Coincidentally, the video footage was edited by a guy from my gym. He recognized me and told my boss he knew me. He knows me from a very different world LoL. He was proly like… “is this the same gal? Hummm?” I never knew he did stuff like this. I guess you never know what iron lovers do on their spare time eh?

I’m looking forward to the 2015 conference. The author of Longmire will be there to talk about the move to NetFlix, which is awesome!!! I loved meeting him even though I don’t love any cowboys. Maybe I’ll ask him if he killed off Chase since I’ve only watched the first episode. I thought it was kinda symbolic in my real world.

Self-mastery of Words

April 14, 2015
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•My son and I at the Santa Fe Public Library (Southside) on 4.12.2015•

Becoming anything you want is easy in a library. Libraries are mystical places. Stories spur our imaginations. Words can transport us into a galaxy unknown… into a sea of love or a world of pain… through a temporary rainbow so we can breathe the colors and into another body or mind with ease. For a reader, this can be achieved if the magic and words are right. It is a harmony of poetic description. For a writer, this type of out of body/mind experience is a must. Disconnection from what is becomes essential to the creative process.

I have been writing poetry since I was a child. No instruction. No degrees. No literary tools. No clue. Just feelings and words. (Read the first poem I wrote at 8yrs old in My Love Affair with Writing) My heart was meant to leave remnants of emotion. Those remnants are sparkly and dark, beautiful and ugly. They are erotically unbound words. My writing defines my soul. My poetry is filled with my words. The words have been etched into me with an acid that only metallic hearts will understand. Only creative machines can be permanently marked by words.

On Sunday I spent the afternoon with my son in the library. It felt so good to see light in his eyes for so long. Taking time to foster a love of words in our children is of the utmost importance. How can I teach him the power of letters and words? Maybe I should read him my poetry? Looking back decades ago, this appreciation came to me in a flood of emotions time and time again. It is feelings not creativity, which first prompt meaningful writing. Good and bad experiences draw out our feelings. We are then inspired and creativity is born.

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•A sign I love in the Santa Fe Public Library (Southside)•

I am sitting in the wind right now. I’m writing. I’m thinking. I’m feeling. My heart is low. I hear a crow in the distance. Children are laughing. The trees are casting shadows on me. People are walking fast. Cars are passing slow. I am feeling this very moment. My best poetry always comes from this place. It is the place of complete surrender to a moment. The ability to feel a moment and then recreate the moment with words is the most important tool a writer has.

Becoming anything I want is easy. There is actually a mystical library within me. This Sunday I realized that. All of my books are there. They have always been there. Everyday I add new books or develop new chapters. Sometimes I read my old books again. These stories spur my imagination and transport me to other places. My harmony of poetic description and creative process is in constant motion. I have become an expert when it comes to harnessing moments and emotions that fill my books with words.

I don’t know that I will ever be a poet laureate? I don’t know that I’ll ever win a Pulitzer Prize or a Congressional gold medal for poetry like Robert Frost? I’m actually more than alright with that. Money and fame mean nothing to me. The ability to freely express myself is my prize. I am a real winner if I can get my son to love words as much as I do. If I never publish any books, I know that I have self-mastered the art of my words.

In the end, the audience of one who feels, the audience of one who listens, the audience of one who really matters is me.

Tangled Hair and Gritty Teeth

April 13, 2015

I love the smell of fresh dirt. The wind whips through my long ponytail. My blonde, tangled locks seem misplaced against the vibrant New Mexican sky. Blue sky, red Earth, the great wide open, barren plateaus, dancing Cholla, and stories of those who came before, give me reasons to adore this place. This is the place that I call my own. I was born and raised in a place which embodies the beauty of dirt.

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•Diablo Canyon in Santa Fe, New Mexico•

If you didn’t know, 4-wheeling in not the Land of Enchantment, but this enchanted land is special. Those wheels afford you an unsoiled, yet soiled glimpse through natures looking glass. The ghosts of Diablo Canyon cast hazy red shadows when the sun sets. Then there are the stories. Today the canyon is used by thrill seekers to evoke hellish feelings. The jump is far. The climb is steep. These thrills aren’t for the weak.

Our ride on Sunday through Caja del Rio, past Diablo Canyon, to the Rio Grande River was beautiful. How quickly we forget the childhood feelings tied to our land and nature. When I was a young girl, I spent all my time on a 3-wheeler. My brother, sister and I explored together. Looking back, we learned together. While my brother and I sat along the bank of the Rio Grande on Sunday, we talked about those priceless days. (Read: Eat My Dust)

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•Rio Grande River off Old Buckman Road in Santa Fe, New Mexico•

There is nothing like the smell of fresh dirt. I would never replace the feel of grit in teeth. The simplest of things can confirm you are home. I don’t mind when the New Mexico wind whips through my hair. It makes me feel alive. I was born and raised in a place which embodies the beauty of dirty skin and sacred land. It is here where I shall remain.

Study Me ~★~

April 30, 2014

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Bit by bit. Learn me numb.
Take your time and read my body.
Word by word. String a phrase.
Use your mind and study me.
Page by page. Highlight my heart.
Bookmark heaven’s iron gate.
Bit by bit. Learn my innermost.
Take your time and read my soul.
…..
by Felicia Lujan
4.30.2014

When Lightning Breaks

July 14, 2013

It’s funny how things happen. If we are in just the right place at just the right time, we can be struck. Maybe broken? Maybe electrified? Lightning has a way of breaking the strongest things. Pieces of a once sturdy tree will be strewn about like remnants of nothing. It’s funny how things happen. When we are least expecting it, we can be struck. Probably broken and electrified. Lightning does have a way of breaking the strongest things.

~~~•» Felicia Lujan
~~~•» 7.14.2013

~Today a tree was struck by lightning in Santa Fe right by where my aunt, brother and sister live.~

~Today a tree was struck by lightning in Santa Fe right by where my aunt, brother and sister live.~

Taste Fire

May 2, 2013


With your mouth…
~~>feel flames.
With your heart…
~~>see destiny.
With your eyes…
~~>taste fire.

Felicia Lujan
5.2.2013


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