In Laura’s Words
I write to shine a light on a dim or otherwise pitch black corner…to provide relief for myself and others. It’s the light that I am looking for. And the wonder it illuminates.
May my words land in your heart.
yours, Laura
The Smell of Snow
I recently found this piece I wrote over ten years ago...and it reminded me of how Montana has been my best teacher. May it find you aware and with deep instincts you can trust this holiday season. First day of hunting season. I awake to a hot crrr-ack in the field at dawn. It is the same hot crack of split wood. In its echo, the same sad...
Oh Holy Night
Featured on Rita Wilson's Huffington Post 50... Every year at this time I meet the holidays with an Andy Rooney attack that comes on a lot like gout. It begins with the first Kay Jewelers ad. And expands with the Lexus sporting the big red bow in the driveway. Then it snowballs with the slender young mommies in cashmere V-neck sweaters sitting on...
Writing Retreats: manna
For more writing retreat information click here: When I first dreamed about leading writing retreats, I wasn’t sure exactly why I wanted that role. I’ve been a writer all my adult life and probably into my childhood and adolescence. Teaching wasn’t something that attracted me. Though, when I look at the trajectory of my life, I see now that I...
Road Trip Tonic
It's good to go from the mountains to the ocean. It clears the head. Here is the short of a 30 hour road trip. May you stop. Breathe. Notice. Lollygag. Watch birds. Wait for sunsets. Linger in the afterglow.
Journal a life.
I have always had a journal-- back to 4th grade (see the pink patent leather with the lock and the word PRIVATE). The early ones are about boys and best friends. The middle ones are about being afraid to die and being afraid to live and being afraid in general-- mostly of myself. Oh, and also about boys. And God. And the more recent ones are all...
Franny the Fish (a love song)
FRANNY THE FISH by Laura Munson (Written when I was 24 years old. Living in Seattle. Upon the occasion of my goldfish, Franny’s, impending death.) Goes a little something like this: (finger picked. Melancholy. A bit of schtick, but not too much. Think "tortured" artist. I used to sing this to my kids until they were old enough to say, "ENOUGH! ...
Relationship Questionnaire
Sometimes I wonder if the divorce rate would be so high if we could tailor make a questionnaire for our love interests to fill out before we step into the abyss of a serious relationship. I’m not talking about a Match.com sort of questionnaire. I’m talking take-no-prisoners, pedal-to-the-metal, full-frontal, in- your-face,...
Writing as Passion and as Architecture.
After my last blog post spouting writing advice, and the appreciative responses I got...I am inspired to share another bit of writing advice I have recently given in hopes that it might help writers out there. Or anyone who wants to express themselves creatively. Recently a new friend asked me if I thought a person could have a blog and write...
To a Young Writer
I was recently asked to write down some writing advice to a young person who loves to write and needs some guidance. There's practically nothing I'd rather do. Rilke's "Letters to a Young Poet" largely shaped who I am as a writer and a person today. The following is what came out of me. Please feel free to share it with anyone-- young, or old, or...
To the Horses I Go…
Back to the Horses I go… (as seen on the Parelli website) It’s trail riding time again in Montana and I can’t wait to get back to this thing that I so love. I used to do it for the lakes and forests, the runs across meadows of wildflowers, the swimming in the river bareback, the sacred time with my horse of 12 years. But this season,...
Consider the Reader
I’ve always felt that in order for writing to be pure, the writer must not consider the reader. It’s like high school. Be yourself no matter what the mean girls or the cute boys are going to say about it. Full self-expression is the key to the authentic life, especially the writing life, regardless of your critics. In other words, don’t make nice...
Small World: A Case For The Trajectory of Intention
It is my not-so-humble opinion that people say “what a small world,” too much in not-so-small-worldish moments. For instance, if you were raised in Montana in a ski town of 2,300 people, and you travel to Seattle and you tell someone you’re from a ski town in Montana…and they say, “Whitefish?” and you say “Yes, in fact!” and they say, “Do you...
Certainly Uncertain
As published on the Huffington Post, and Relationship Advice Cafe I know my way around uncertainty. Namely in the form of marital crisis. I wrote an essay and a memoir about a particular season of my life in which my husband wanted out of the marriage. I felt that he was in a deeper crisis of self, brought on by career failure. And rather than...
A Mind of Winter…
I miss the deciduous trees. The winter sculptures that remind us of our bare bones. Like metal fingers in the sky that warn against the cold. Stay quiet. Stay inside by the fire. It's time to rest. Here the conifers flaunt themselves against the snow and grey. The only technicolor. The only promise. Come on out and ski and sled and snowshoe and...
Loveletter to NYC (and to Montana)
As a Chicago girl, I know I'm not supposed to say this...but I love New York City. I've been there ten times in two years, and this time it was for fun. Everything about it was fun. I met amazingly generous people who are doing amazingly inspiring things with their lives in the world of art and media. I left half day chunks to myself and went to...
