Miss Pelican's Perch

Looking at my World from a Different Place


A Stroll Down Memory Lane

If you have ever wondered when and how I got started blogging, it happened one April morning in 2006 when I was careening through the blogosphere looking for…. something…. I don’t remember what anymore.  In doing so, I stumbled across this amazing labyrinth of creative inspiration:   The Soul Food Cafe.

SFC has nothing to do with food for the body.   Rather, like the name states, it is about food for the creative spirit.  Created by Australian educator, Heather Blakey, this massive site is overflowing with prompts and articles for writers, artists, and other creatives designed to jump-start them to their own works.    Through this material, Heather led bands of creatives from all over the world through interactive projects.  Most often we would post our works on separate blogs.

There is no search engine on the SFC site which is a good thing as it compels the creative to start exploring the voluminous pages of the site.  Inspiration would always come most unexpectedly at the sudden turn to a new page.

I can’t adequately describe it to you.  All I can do is invite you to start exploring.   I suggest you start with the Box of Wonderment.

One other place you can check is The Rookery.   There you can meet the writers and artists that were working at SFC in the late 2000’s, me included.   My “raven” is the second one from the left on the ground under the tree.  If you click that bird, you will go to my page where I outline my entire history of writing at SFC.

So my contributions to the internet truly can be credited –or blamed 🙂 — on this magical site and its author.

ljg (c) 2017


The Mysterious Package Company

When I came home from work last Friday night, this package, intriguingly marked with the words “Curios and Conundrums,” was waiting for me on my front porch.  I had an inkling as to what this package contained and who was responsible for sending it  🙂    However, I was not ready to deal with what I found inside the package:  (I opened it with a steak knife because that just seemed, well, the correct implement to use for some reason).

It was another box in the shape of a book.   Now, if I had not already known that this was from The Mysterious Package Company (and who sent it), I might have freaked out a little.  I learned that some recipients of such boxes have called the police because they were so upset.

The MPC is so mysterious that you cannot even access their website unless you apply for membership. I will use their own words to describe what this company does: “We specialize in remarkable deliveries which intrigue, befuddle, and delight…We tell stories you can touch.” In other words, they provide what I would call “immersive stories”, stories in which you must interact with physical objects in order to understand the story — if you can figure out the story at all.

Yes, it is mysterious. In fact, it took me four days of trawling the internet and asking questions on various social media groups and forums to learn…. absolutely nothing!   The participants seem to know that the fun of unraveling the puzzles presented in the package is doing it on your own and spoilers are absolutely forbidden.    The only hints I was given were to read everything, take notes, know that “Google is your friend,”  and be ready to be inspired.

Okay, then.  In keeping with this “mums-the-word” stratagem, I will only say (and not show)  that the box contained a Victorian era-styled gazette newspaper with an odd assortment of news stories, opinion pieces, period advertisements, puzzles, and what-not; various replica stickers from Victorian-era apothecary bottles;  two paper-craft items requiring assembly, one with a warning that the images in the completed assemblage might be disturbing; a magnetic replica of a phrenology head that you can write on with dry erase markers; a little cookbook of “gruel” recipes from around the world, a tiny enamel pin of a guy in straight-jacket with the word “Bedlam” written on it, and — the coolest thing — an little metal Egyptian-style obelisk with odd inscriptions and depictions.  All these items tie together to make some sort of story.

In my research just to understand what I received,  I learned something vital about myself as a writer:  I have become quite ordinary in my story-telling.  That is, I write the words in an order that I choose with the intent of conveying a singular narrative to the reader.  My readers stand on the outside while I feed them the narrative.  I don’t allow my readers to interact with the story except to a specific end that I dictate.

Not so with this MPC Curios and Conundrum box.   I, the reader, am invited in to create the story through the provided objects and texts.

It took me four whole days to figure that out.

Let the writing commence.


ljgloyd (c) 2017



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Bench-pressing with Words

My goal is to write at least five minutes every day. Sometimes it is by blogging, or through social media postings, or even at times by crafting the content of a significant e-mail at work. My purpose in writing every day is simply to get better at it.

I need to particularly practice writing with intent. I need to practice since my writing intentions don’t always play out in the finished piece. For example, my writing is sometimes droll or witty, but if my intention is to purposefully write in that manner, it oftentimes falls flat. Similarly, that carefully crafted email mentioned above most likely needs to be precise, clear, and authoritative. However, I often muddy the waters when I overthink that intention.

I find that it is best to briefly set the intention, let it go, and then just write. I don’t think about it. I just write and tell myself that I can clean it all up in the editing process. In other words, I tell my inner critic to zip it while my inner muse creates. She can chime in later.

I need to regularly practice this intentional “free flow”. This is the reason I come back to this blog several times a week. Each time I pull myself back to a singular, pure output of creative thought. I need this regular practice to get stronger and more adept.

It’s like working out in a gym.

ljg 2017


Honk If You Love…..

I am sure you’ve seen these stickers slapped on the bumpers of cars:  “Honk if you love _____” (insert name of favorite sports team, city, animal, cheese, deity, what-have-you.)

It perplexes me that some people throw the word “love” around so casually and in doing so actually diminish that which they claim to love (if they truly do love it).

As writers — or all thinking people in general– maybe we should try to be a little more precise with the word “love” and select another word when we want to convey to the world that we intensely like something.   “Honk if you obsess over Star Wars.”   Yeah, I know, it lacks pithy punch.   Still, I don’t like seeing the word “love” so mishandled.

Let’s say you really do love something and want to the world to know it.   Do you really want that “I love my boyfriend” sticker splattered with mud and heaven’s know what?   Or even more so having the guy to whom you flipped the bird when you cut him off seeing your “I love Jesus” sticker as you peel on down the road?

Anyway, I’m ranting now and probably spending way too much time on this personal peeve on mine.

Honk if you want me to be quiet.


ljgloyd (c)






No Panacea

In trying to write this post I have started and stopped and started over again several times.   This is because I am at a loss for words.

Yesterday’s mass shooting at the church in Texas is no worse than any of the others we have had in the last few years (or weeks), yet it hits too close to home.

I belong to a small faith community too. Since yesterday when I first heard the news of the congregants being mowed down by automatic weapon fire in the pews of their tiny country church, I have envisioned myself and the people of my congregation. What would we have done? Where would I have run? I even mentally worked out an escape plan should something like that happen to me in my church.

How sick is that?

Once again we hear the arguments:  It’s the guns, it’s mental health, the left is at fault, the right is at fault. Yaddy, yaddy, yaddy.

What is the solution? There is no solution. There is no panacea.  The cures we advocate are complicated which means, sorrowfully, that nothing is ever going to change.

And why is that?  Because this is not about guns or mental health or social and political agendas. It is not an earthly situation with an earthly answer. It is a moral and spiritual condition.

In other words, evil is real.

And acknowledging that is the only direction we can go.


ljg (c) 2017