Month: March 2021

Still trying to make sense of this

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 2 Comments

Random notes in no particular order:

  1. A neighborhood can be a community of peace or of conflict. Either one is layered with opportunity for faith.
  2. Some say I approach life as a mystic.
  3. Silence can be overwhelming; no wonder it is widely avoided!
  4. Right now, it would be a job rather than service.
  5. I’ve preferred to ride Lone Ranger rather than fly with the team in coach.
  6. Great line from M.W. Jacobs’ San Fran ’60s: “It was only later amid the flashing chrome and rumble-clatter of the subway that I realized my accomplishment.” Remember, I love the underground rails and have written a novel set there.
  7. Visions of your lover as God, where you’re only a passing sacrifice.
  8. Eastport Convention. Like maybe a rock band from Maine?
  9. Nola, a possible character appellation.
  10. Presidents as first names … Grant, Clinton, Carter, Lincoln, Madison, Roosevelt etc.

Well, they couldn’t wear nametags

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

One approach I employed may help readers keep track of the spreading number of family members.

In drafting my novel What’s Left, I envisioned each chapter as a module that could stand alone from the rest of the book. Think of it as a short story. That way, the number of characters in each chapter is more focused.

And while first names are usually repeated frequently in a Greek-American family, I limited this to just one great-grandmother and one descendant, and used a nickname for the elder one. Neat, eh?

Yes, the family members do show up in other modules and there is continuity over the whole, but at least you don’t have everyone in your face at once.

When you go to a social event and are introduced to many new people, are you able to remember their names and faces? Or do you go into a blur? How do you cope with this challenge?

 

Communion with strangers

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

the mailman didn’t leave the stack in the hallway, as I had worried, but rather held it to give to me today (twenty-four pieces, which included one personal letter to me, from somebody amplifying on our Seventh-day conversation in North Carolina, or as he pronounces it, Nor’car’l’na, a personal letter to Iowa from another in Pennsylvania who must have his addresses mixed up, I’ll forward adding my own greetings; three magazines; my union newspaper; six bills; unsolicited junk including offers of wild credit lines if I accept more I’d be rich if I could reach the right country without extradition

Places I’ve enjoyed dancing

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Look, I never have figured out what passes for “popular” dancing, but I am grateful a few forms of folk versions have come to my rescue.

I could mention those times I’ve been moved while watching others dance, like at the Tinowit on the Yakama reservation or maybe at a ballet, but this list is places where I’ve done the steps, too.

  1. The Rockwells’ apple barn in Barnesville, Ohio. My introduction to contradancing, despite my initial resistance.
  2. Scout House, Concord, and VFW, Cambridge, Massachusetts. Mecca. The latter was also known as the Rocket House, ‘cuz of its mock-up Nike missile out front.
  3. Town Hall, Nelson, New Hampshire. Mecca again. Plus the legendary sloped floor.
  4. Dublin Academy, New Hampshire, for Bob McQuillan’s CD release party. I wound up waltzing with an Amelia when I mentioned the tune we were dancing to shared her name, she said calmly, “It was written for me,” back as a toddler.
  5. Town Hall, Bowdoinham, Maine. Always fun and lots of kids out on a Saturday night out.
  6. Town Hall, Kingston, New Hampshire. Smokey of the band Old Wild Goose shucked fresh oysters at intermission one night, and I really pigged out as most folks turned up their noses, not knowing what they were missing. This was November, and the shells were fattened to perfection. There was another night somewhere when he was both the caller and musician, who knows where the rest of the band was, but everything certainly was fun.
  7. City Hall, Dover, and the Oyster River Band, bringing with it memories of times when they starred in Madbury and Lee and even the Kittery, Maine, Grange Hall.
  8. The Star Grange, Greenfield, Massachusetts. They dance wild out there in the Pioneer Valley. Plus I thought I was engaged to be married, and she was a great dancer. Whole other story.
  9. Our wedding, Dover, New Hampshire. The reception featured national treasures Dudley and Jackie Laufman at their best, getting even beginners moving elegantly on the old one-room schoolhouse floor.
  10. Greek festivals at the Hellenic Center in Dover and a big tent at St. Nicholas in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. Feels great learning a new talent, even at this age.

~*~

Gee, how could I overlook the big Ralph Page Legacy Weekend at the University of New Hampshire, Durham, just a dozen or so minutes from us? Maybe because it’s always on the Martin Luther King weekend, when my schedule is pressed by other demands.  This gets serious.

Yes, the balconies

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

The old Foster’s Daily Democrat newspaper plant had been added to willy-nilly over the years, and there was no way of hiding that in the building’s transformation to multi-use tenancy. As we’ve seen in previous posts, much of its rear side facing Henry Law Park was essentially a windowless concrete block wall. Not anymore. The corner apartments were quickly rented.

I particularly like the use of balconies that overlook a state-of-the-art playground and a green park along a bend of the Cocheco River where tall ships once turned around. In contrast, the recessed balconies ofter privacy while overlooking an outdoor amphitheater where summer concerts are held and the entrance to the children’s museum.
As I was saying about the corner apartments? How about their commanding balconies?
The redesign sought to maintain downtown Dover’s historic brick storefront appearance – narrow buildings with upstairs housing set side by side.

 

When flights intersect or move on 

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 1 Comment

Just what was I thinking? Was this supposed to be a philosophy class moment? A reflection on time versus space? Or fate versus free will? No wonder the paragraph failed to take root in my novel What’s Left.

History is filled with unique moments when something flashes up and takes hold. Or a singular intersection of trajectories appears in the universe of motion.

~*~

The novel, by the way, has many of these situations, just as life itself does. We just didn’t need to get preachy.

I suppose this just might fit a story about baseball. Or think of football. The great play no fan will ever forget.

There are also those accidents, seemingly chance encounters, like the late-night crash that kills Cassia’s grandparents or the avalanche that claims her father. A few moments one way or the other, and her story would be much, much different.

I was more likely reflecting on those seconds where you have to make a decision one way or another. Say something. Do something. Yes or no. The beginning of a romance, for instance, once you’ve introduced yourself. Uttered the joke that could have as easily fallen flat.

Can you recall a significant moment in your life when something had to happen right then — or never at all? One with no second chances? Please share it! Be bold!

~*~

Cassia learns to “read” strips of photographic negatives like this as she looks for clues to her father’s life journey.