Join me?

Off the Page, On the Coast 

A one-day writing workshop in Yachats, Oregon
Saturday, August 6, 2011
from 10am to 4pm

A workshop for writers of all levels, experience & interests. From poetry to prose, fact to fiction, the focus is on fresh writing with prompts and practices designed to inspire and energize. Led by Drew Myron, participants will generate new work in an encouraging atmosphere and serene coastal setting.

The workshop takes place at the Overleaf Lodge Event Center, a warm and inviting spot nestled steps from crashing ocean waves, minutes from a shoreline trail, and in the beauty of Yachats, a tranquil beach town of just 650 people on the central Oregon Coast.

Cost is $65, and includes lunch.

To maintain a supportive, intimate experience, workshop is limited to 12 writers.

Register Now
- Register online

- Register by mail
Send check, and contact info (name, address, phone, email) to: 

Drew Myron
Off the Page, On the Coast
Box 914, Yachats, Oregon 97498

Questions? Call 541-547-3757, or email dcm@drewmyron.com



in this kiss

all our other kisses—

summer solstice

Ce Rosenow
from Pacific
a Haiku Society of America Book Award Finalist



Thankful Thursday: Stains and Stench

Dear Crummy Motel,

Thank you for perspective. A single dark hair clings
to the bathroom sink and mottled dust hovers
on the baseboard edge. But all is not grim.

Stained carpet and a thrift store stench
urge me to appreciate life’s small luxuries.

Last night your thin walls invited me to the party next door,
and in this I am reminded that I am a quiet person in a quiet life.
Sometimes I forget.

On the table a tattered pad of paper calls me to scribble lines
about the barking men on the asphalt edges, revving engines
as their girlfriends emerge halter-topped and happy.

From the comfort of a swanky hotel, all this would go un-noticed.

I would be nestled in thick pillows and smooth sheets
watching Real Housewives on a sleek screen. I would pretend
real means heels, hair and endless parties.

But you, humble motel,
remind me how little I need,
how much I have.


It's Thankful Thursday. Joy expands and contracts in direct relation to our sense of gratitude. What are you thankful for today? A person, a place, a thing? A story, a song, a poem? What makes your world expand?




I'm curious and fascinated by the lives of others.  What's your story? I always wonder.

As a reporter, my vocation provided the ideal excuse to probe for answers. These days, however, I ask less and listen more. When out to dinner, for example, I almost always listen to the conversation at the next table. I don't crane to hear. My nosiness comes naturally.

Lately, I have put my overactive listening skills to use. By gathering the lines of others and making them my own, I am creating overheard poems.

Happy Hour, Happy Birthday

— overheard at the Embarcadero Lounge

I got my AARP card in the mail.
I don’t need that.
I went to Portland to drown my sorrows.

Thank God, there’s always hair coloring.
I don’t know what happened to my boobs.
I don’t have boobs anymore.

It’s a minus tide.

How about you? It's your turn to show and tell. What's in your ear? On your page?



Thankful Thursday: thx thx thx

It's Thankful Thursday, a weekly pause to appreciate people, places and things.

Today I am thankful for a Leah Dieterich, a woman who shares my love of the thank you note. Her book, thx thx thx: thank goodness for everything is a collection of her thank you notes to the world.

From houseguests to laziness, clean sheets to berets, Leah appreciates the everyday in a daily record of gratitude. Neither saccharine or sentimental, Leah's notes show great mindfulness.

"A few years ago I was living in the future," she explains in the book's foreword. "Not in a sci-fi kind of way, but in that I spent a lot of time thinking about what I'd do when this or that happened, or what I'd do if it didn't. It was stressful to live like that all the time. There were occasions, however, when I felt more calm, more satisfied, and I noticed these were the moments I stopped to think about all the things I had right then and there. The things I was grateful for."

She acknowledges that a thick book of small notes is a tough sell, and even turns that awareness into a thank you note: "I realize a book of thank you notes could come off as overly sentimental, syrupy even, so I applaud you for being less cycnical than the average person."