Brewing, composting, gestating...The other day I spent a gray afternoon sipping tea at a teashop. It felt like a luxurious treat, to sit inside with a group of other tea enthusiasts, tasting one brew after another, passing the short afternoon together in simple conversation. After each pot was spent, we threw the unfurled tea leaves outside onto the dirt, the tips of green daffodils already peeking through the soil. Sometimes the holidays can bring pressure instead of peace; a call to socialize, to light up the night and focus outwards. They can also be a time of resting without guilt, realigning you with what you want to create, receive, and call in. What is gestating inside of you this winter? What are you wanting to create in the year ahead? Maybe you have a story brewing inside of you that is ready to be born into the world. If you'd like to join others exploring their stories, consider joining us for the upcoming Twelve Windows journey. It's a time of exploration, connecting both to your past and to each other in an intimate group setting. If you'd like a bit more information before jumping in, I'm offering a free class on Saturday, December 13th answering common questions people have about memoir writing. Here's what I'll be addressing:
Below is a video note from one of the recent Twelve Windows graduates, Kristen Brookes, sharing what the journey was like for her. My Twelve Windows Experience If you're feeling a call to write your story, trust that voice. Begin now.
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Each season holds its own rhythm — a reminder that our lives, too, move in cycles of growth, reflection, and renewal. That’s the heart of Twelve Windows, a year-long memoir writing journey I lead for those who want to explore and honor the stories of their lives. Poet Megan Falley once wrote: “Trees: we are utterly and entirely dependent upon them.” That line made me pause. I love trees, but I rarely think about how deeply intertwined our lives are — the way one cannot live without the other, the balanced inhale, exhale of our unspoken relationship. I find it’s the same way with writing our stories: humans are the only species who share stories. We need them– to connect, to understand each other and to find meaning in the world around us. One of my favorite trees is a buckeye. I see it on my walks with my dog, Esmé. In summer the leaves create a green umbrella of shade, in spring the white blossoms perfume the air, and now in fall, the tree looks like a gaunt arthritic man, save for the buckeye sacs hanging from bare branches. Each seed is protected inside a yellow green pod, and the buckeye comes out shiny as a newborn. I see one buckeye sending an ivory colored shoot down into soil. I slip over clusters of reddish purple bay laurel nuts and wonder about my stories, like protected seeds, ready to be planted. What do I want to plant in the soil to be nurtured through the dark of winter? That same question begins the yearly Twelve Windows journey. Each January, a new circle of writers sets their intentions and plants the seeds of their own stories. Now, as the year closes, those stories have grown into full memoirs. This Saturday, our 2025 writers will be sharing their work at a celebration (Zoom link below), and you’re warmly invited to join us. If you’ve ever felt a call to write, come join us for our 2026 class. You don’t need a big story to begin, or even be sure of what you want to write. Just come plant the seed of your idea and see what takes root! Stop aspiring and start writing…write like you’re clinging to the edge of a cliff, white knuckles, on your last breath, and you’ve got just one last thing to say, like you’re a bird flying over us and you can see everything, and please, for God’s sake, tell us something that will save us from ourselves. Take a deep breath and tell us your deepest, darkest secret, so we can wipe our brow and know that we’re not alone. -Alan Watts
I love this kick-in-the-pants quote by Alan Watts, especially that last line: tell us your deepest, darkest secret so we can wipe our brow and know that we’re not alone. When we share our stories we chip away at our isolation, we connect, we see ourselves with new eyes. Students from the Twelve Windows program are finishing up their year-long writing journey this month and I’m reminded of the transformation and bonding that happens with each group as we share the stories of our lives. If you’ve been thinking about writing your life stories but haven’t taken the leap, I encourage you to begin! Consider what would happen if you started? Not finished a whole book, but just began with the structure, care, and support of a group of other writers, embarking on the same journey. Are you excited? Terrified? Doubtful? All great places to begin! If you’d like to hear what this year’s group of writers created, join us for the Book Celebration on November 15th, 11am PST. I’ve included the zoom link at the bottom of this email. Everyone progressed at their own speed. Some have finished a few stories and one student, after doing the class two years in a row, has a gorgeous book to show us. If you’ve ever been curious about memoir writing, I encourage you to take a look at the Twelve Windows journey for 2026. The gentle accountability of committed writing times helps, the prompts inspire and as another writing teacher likes to say, the only thing you have to lose is your isolation. Twelve Windows Memoir Writing Zoom Link for Book CelebrationTopic: Twelve Windows Book Celebration Time: Nov 15, 2025 11:00 AM Pacific Time (US and Canada) Join Zoom Meeting https://us02web.zoom.us/j/81036861253 https://mailchi.mp/8aad66716462/go-rogue-permission-slips |
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AuthorSheila Bannon, Rogue Writing Archives
December 2025
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