Sharing a Podium and Our Stories

I had the wonderful opportunity on Saturday evening to share the story of how our three Holthaus sister poetry books came to be published, and I also chose several poems from each book to read to the crowd of fifty people at Arts on Grand in Spencer, Iowa. It was great to see friends I hadn’t seen in a long time, including Deb, Zoe, Arla, and Elli.

It was a treat to be back in Spencer, having lived and taught there from 1992-98. My early recovery from alcoholism took stronger root there, especially up the road in Okoboji and Spirit Lake. I also met my husband Darcy there. Spencer and the surrounding area are part of my story, and within my time there are many more stories.

I have written poetry for decades. Thousands of poems. I have only more recently started reading some of them in front of others. My version of spoken word. I have to tell you that I find it very invigorating and it enlivens the words right off the page, right from the heart of emotions and the experiences that inspired and launched the first lines.  

I wove poems within the telling of the times from which each book was birthed. The first two were at the height of the pandemic. Our third really took root decades ago. I read some of my own poems, and also some from each of my sisters. I hope I did them justice. It was an honor to be there and an honor to share some of our sisterhood stories and poetry.

It was also an honor to share the podium with such talented storytellers, musicians, and writers. There was laughter, moments of choked-up emotions, and everything in between. Beautiful, genuine stories from the voices and hearts of the people who lived them and are creating them. I so enjoyed and appreciated this “Voices on Grand” event. Thank you to all who made it possible!

Stories. Telling stories. Listening to stories. It is one of the most authentic ways we can honor each other. Will you be a teller or a listener today? Maybe you will have the opportunity to be both. Tell from the heart. Listen with your heart.

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My Mother’s Hands

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“The Deer and I”