Traci Moore
Writer and Editor
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W E L C O M E
To sip a cup of tea and chat with people who love to write gives me a great sense of joy. Poets, fiction writers, essayists and journaling gurus delight me with their stories
and inspire me to write better.
As an editor and writing coach, I enjoy my role as an enthusiastic confidante. I've met writers who need regular pep talks to keep their words flowing. Some prefer detailed analyses of their lengthy or not-so-lengthy manuscripts. Others just want a little guidance (or motivation) for submitting their stories to journals.
I assist writers with a variety of interests. Feel free to peruse this site for details about everything I do.
Thank you for reading my words. I look forward to reading yours.
Happy writing!
Traci
Traci Moore | Writer and Editor
www.tracimoore.org
tlmoore3 [at] gmail.com
Writing Lessons
Last summer something unexpected happened to me at camp.
Though we call it camp, we don’t sleep in tents, but instead, in the quaint Spanish dorms at our small California women’s college. During our four-day sojourn, we join our alumnae sisters— graduates of classes 1945 to the present—for bird walks, artsy or thought-provoking workshops, reading, yoga, and lounging by the pool. On the final night we celebrate with a nice buffet, art show and stage performance where we share our camp creations. At the finale last year I read one of my light-hearted essays, which prompted laughter from the audience, and an invitation for me to teach a writing workshop at camp the following summer. The proposal amazed me. Teaching small groups of writers had long been one of my goals. I was grateful and excited. I thought the friendly camp environment would be the ideal place to teach my first class.
But when the workshop planning phase arrived, I started to worry. I wondered which material to present, and how I'd engage the students. Did I need visuals? A short lecture? How much writing time? And most important, what should I not do? Without answers, I flopped into the easy chair in the corner of my office.
For a while I only sat there and closed my eyes. I felt overwhelmed and frustrated. I did some deep breathing, but no big answers popped into my head. So I reached for a pen, opened my journal and began to write. The first few paragraphs were gobble-dee-gook, but as many writers agree, gobble-dee-gook is acceptable in one’s journal. I scribbled pages about my fears, and eventually, my goals for the workshop: the logical, the whimsical, and the crazy.
An hour later, my outlook had changed. I felt almost optimistic. When I set down my pen and looked more closely at those pages covered with handwriting, I saw the answer: journaling. The writing workshop I would host next summer would begin with a segment on journaling. Because the natural starting point— for addressing any project or challenge—has been my journal.
Journaling began for me when my fourth grade teacher gave us floppy composition books and asked us to write about “something” each day. In early entries I described what cereal my sister and I ate for breakfast, or when my brother had a tantrum. As I aged, journal writing became less inane and more necessary. Filling blank notebooks with my thoughts helped me accept and move through adolescence, marriage, divorce, parenting, odd careers and not-so-smart life choices.
Over time, journaling classes and discussion groups have given me a broader understanding of the advantages of personal writing. I’ve learned techniques that offer the most valuable therapeutic benefits. Maintaining a regular practice for the past thirty years has allowed me to clarify life goals, sketch out creative ideas and gain the confidence necessary to become what I’ve wanted to be since childhood: a working writer and editor.
In a few months, I’ll pack up my sunscreen, sun hat, journal and teaching materials and head to my alma mater for camp. Knowing journaling will be a part of my workshop curriculum, I feel hopeful. Because now I can see it: before a group of smiling students, I’ll introduce myself, hold up my journal, suggest a few ideas—like be as free as you want for a few minutes, this writing is just for you—and let the women roll. We may try a short journaling exercise and discuss it. Then we’ll stretch out and coast into another sort of writing: writing that might one day become a mystery or a tragedy, a memoir, or a poem.
A version of this essay appeared in All Things Healing, 2011.
For more information about journaling exercises, classes and resources, visit Sue Meyn's JournalMagic website.