A couple of weeks ago while I was walking my usual salt marsh route on a hot but not oppressively hot mid-day, I saw a deer gingerly sipping the marsh's brackish water. That deer must have been really thirsty, I thought to myself. A beautiful animal, but not a beautiful sight.*
Meanwhile, I've been in a writing drought--thankfully, not the kind of drought that has dire consequences for the world.
Meanwhile, I've been in a writing drought--thankfully, not the kind of drought that has dire consequences for the world.
I haven't been estranged from all writing: in fact, I've been reading other people's writing and really appreciating and enjoying it. Monique Roffey's The Mermaid of Black Conch, Amor Towles' The Lincoln Highway, and Ann Patchett's These Precious Days are all books that I'd recommend. All very different, and no evidence of drought to be found in any them.
As far as my own writing goes, I did start several blog posts in these last couple of months, but after poking at them so much that whatever moisture they contained drained out of them, I abandoned them. I was equally hard on two poems I began: I didn't feel so much that I was working on them as that I had taken early versions of them hostage and tormented them over a period of several weeks. Thanks to my poetry writing group's interventions, they survived. Who knows? Maybe at some point they'll thrive. My own poetic thriving has been more of an open question.
* The little research I did says deer can and do adapt to brackish water if they must, but they prefer fresh water.
Hello Joan, This is Billy, Liana's grandfather. Today is the one year anniversary of her tragic passing. Yesterday, my daughter, Liana's mother, forwarded your blog about having come upon her memorial in Merrymount. The timing could not have been more perfect. That you were touched enough to post the picture of Liana's memorial, write about it and adjust the fallen candle meant more to me than I could ever express. Our family has been trying to make sense of Liana's death and, no doubt, God placed you in our path. God bless you.
ReplyDeleteDear Billy. I am so touched that you wrote to me on the anniversary of Liana's passing--and so glad that my blog offered you some consolation on this difficult day. As a former high school teacher, I always pay attention to the always tragic deaths of young people. And clearly Liana was special, beautiful in many ways. One day I when I was walking in the park, I saw a man and a woman at Liana's memorial. I wonder if you were the man. I decided not to interrupt the pair as I walked in, but promised myself I'd speak to them if they were still there on my way out. They weren't. I am thinking of Liana and your whole family as you continue to try to make sense of her death and to feel some kind of peace in relation to it. Thank you for acknowledging me as someone who carries Liana in my heart. Be well, Billy.
DeleteThis morning I put down a Best Selling contemporary novel who's anonymity I will grant and I asked a couple of friends for their reading recommendation. I was suggested this blog and the Lincoln Highway. I just love how you describe picking at your own writing, it's so humbly pathetic. I'm off to find a copy of that Lincoln Highway.
ReplyDeleteHi, Anonymous. Thank you so much for writing to tell me this. I'm honored your friend recommended my blog, and I'm glad you're glad you read and enjoyed reading this post. Now I'm hoping you enjoy The Lincoln Highway: a great ramble of a novel--one of those unwinding, episodic stories of a long, complicated homecoming abounding in memorable characters. Enjoy! And thanks again!
DeleteI'm not really Anonymous. It's Berhan. Strange is this signing in.
DeleteHi, Berhan! I'm still honored! So there! You're not the first who has found this commenting and signing in mysterious at best and enraging at worst. I'll check with Scott and see if he's done with The Lincoln Highway. If so, you can borrow our copy. xo
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