remember after two months racing highway construction crew deadlines your Indian dig crew unearthed an infant’s grave that justified the stall but nightfall forced departure and returning the next morning, you discovered the skull smashed, bones scattered across drunken greed, ignorance, or hatred that strikes repeatedly, yes, the repeated sound, as you relay it Take care
Tag: Relationships
Regarding the influence of parents
As she looks for her father’s imprint in my novel What’s Left, Cassia discovers a lot about her mother as well.
Does one of your parents make a bigger impression on you than the other?
How do you adjust for their differences in your heart and mind?
Aloha, Wade
here we go again, vantage point, take stock and calibrate to relate general pleasures, though not of the dramatic variety, this insight is this what being adult is about, this always being behind at least never ahead of the pile of things to do, chores, goals, activities? responsible, even, for what we haven’t done? all this ecological preservation yielding dividends tying knots in the air, so how’s the fishing?
Snap! Snap! Snap!
Cassia inherits her father’s archive of photographic negatives and prints. Organizing them becomes a daunting enterprise.
How do you file your digital photos for easy retrieval or reference?
Having moved away from your heart’s true home
more than a leap draws me through limbs of imperfect distortion when ducking under its timeless shadow how you freely interrogate berries and dark-skinned nuts as if it matters where we land under countless utility lines and trees apart from the shoreline of slurping defiance
When it comes to upholding tradition
In your circles, who’s most passionate about the Old Ways?
Would you call them conservative?
How radiant the blood
a once-removed cousin and new husband came for the 1812 Overture with puffs from cannons spotted before the booms a time delay with the musical score and then, the Esplanade Fourth fireworks about as close as you can get to the five barges, their computer- programmed pyrotechnics in the Charles just upstream, across from the Clam Shell with everyone listening to the live broadcast
Their names are a way of remembering, too
One challenge in a large multi-generational story like What’s Left comes in managing first names. Many families customarily name babies in honor of grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, even the parents, but even with nicknames, that’s bound to create additional confusion for readers.
I skirt the issue by introducing names independent of any mention of family connection, perhaps justified with the break from the old country at the outset of their arrival in America and perhaps as a reflection of adapting new customs as well.
Pressed on the point I might respond that Stavros’ three sisters, who remain unnamed in the text, repeated earlier names. And then I wondered about Nicky, a generation later.
Does your family have naming traditions? What’s the pattern? Which names are most popular?
Basically
do you really like me? I mean, nothing beyond some fool’s hazardous perspective up and by god safe in season, I’m whatever happens lovelier than that canopy maybe fully open lifting into play, hopefully without nonsense spreading
Photography just ain’t what it used to be
In my Freakin’ Free Spirits novels, Cassia’s father is a professional photographer who views the world in a unique spirit.
Now that digital technology has made taking pictures so easy and ubiquitous, everybody always seems to be holding their cell phones up for another shot.
Does anyone else miss the sound of the clicking shutter?
How do you find capturing photographic images affects the way you see events around you?
Jnana's Red Barn 