The coin

         A penny lay on the pavement unnoticed by most, but the coin collector spotted it amidst the yards of pavement and bent down to pick it up. "Guess what year?" He held it up so she could scrutinize it's smooth edges and dark coppered tinting.

          "1986" a random guess as good as any other she shrugged.

          "Close. 1982... If you could go back, what three things would you do differently?" An everyday question that had no everyday answer.

          1982.... the world turned upside down and inside out and wrongside up.

          "I'd change... everything." No place to begin or end in this story. "Everything needed to change.You?"

          He shrugged. "Dunno. Not much. Nothing really, I guess. It was good."

          "You were fortunate. Most of us have something we wish we could change" She noted the obvious and they walked down the street, their arms around each other in a deep silence that held regret, satisfaction, contentment and love.    

Death and Politics at the end of the world

This is an excerpt from my first chapter of 'Death and Politics'. My character is going home to Key West (where else?) and nothing has been explained so you're not missing pieces- it's all being introduced a little bit at a time right here. I have adapted this a bit because there is more going on than there is space here for but I am interested in hearing what my blogging friends think of this so far. Feedback would be lovely!

The initial moments of my entrance onto the island were always cacophonous and strengthening. I ease my vice grip on the wheel, clicking the red ruby slippers of memory. “There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home.”

Involuntarily, yet necessarily

drawn to the water,

I drive. 

            Past the turn in to an abandoned bar;

                                                past palm and pond;

            past bougainvillea and banyan;

and finally,

 past the fort . . .

past the past.

Bread crumb colored shoreline nearly deserted.

The gulf breeze tousles my hair

I come to myself, agape… 

 “So you come to the end of the world, Child,” a lyrical voice breaks my reverie “What you think you’re going to find here?”

            The question hovers, a sparrow caught in a headwind. 

            “Trying to find yourself?” She emphasizes ‘find’ with a tangy lilt that exposes the question’s banality.

            I squint, amused that she is so dispositioned to entice consumers, approaching them regardless of their susceptibility. “What are you selling, Grandma?”

            Her fake grin dissolves. Thick webs of tangled braids oscillate around her counterfeit affability. She smiles wryly. “Lookin’ to tell Martha Money how she will meet the love of her life.”

            “I’m not interested in having my fortune told. Save it for Martha and the rest of the rubes.”

 A lobster-colored young couple lies motionless side by side. An elderly woman creeps to the concession stand. Gentle waves lap onto the beach and I long to be enveloped in their welcoming embrace.  

            “You’ll find many things- here - at the end of the world, child…” Her voice blends into the music of the beach and I turn back away from the beckoning waters for the time being. My senses are awakened by the metallic melody of bicycle bells, the roll of engines, searing sidewalks, and piquant seafood- I was home and I turn toward the parked car to finish my journey.


*Picture painted by talented artist (and my friend!) Amanda Wiese 

Delicious days. . .

I often go walking on the every other Friday I have off after I drop my son off at school-- I take my camera with the intent of adventuring and finding the world in a different light so that I can write about it. 
Today I will not compete with his quiet majesty.

What I'm reading...

I work in Libaria-- a foreign land that used to have the reputation as a Source of Knowledge and a Place to Store Books for the common use. Unfortunately Libaria has fewer and fewer books and the books that are kept here are of poorer and poorer quality (and I am not talking about having tattered covers- I speak of the content). Keeping older books because they have value as research material is out of vogue and if a book has not been used recently, it will find it's way to the boxes marked with red labels "To: CEN: Disposal"  On maps Libaria might look quite large yet the fact of the matter is that Libaria is shrinking like an argyle sweater in the dryer. However as an employee of Libaria I or my coworkers do still occasionally run into the rare bird: Real Literature or Books of Idea or History and as a result we can wind up with too many books on our nightstands to read.

And I thought I would share my reading list with you because right now I have an exceptional piece of fiction to share...

The Place in Flowers Where Pollen Rests

"Radiating from the Hopi mesas of Arizona, this is a novel of voices, of men and women and gods -- a pagan chorale dominated by two extraordinary misfits. George The Place Where Pollen Rests is a mighty artist, a legendary carver of Kachina dolls who, now blind and ailing, is strangely animated by his approaching death. He continues to carve and to tell his stories, at peace within the realm of myth, a whirligig existence crammed with Hopi gods and ghosts. There to tend to his illness is Oscar Beautiful Badger Going Over The Hill, but it is Oswald who is most in need of healing. Tormented by an obscene tragedy that has driven him from a career in Hollywood's low-budget porn films, Oswald now longs to unlock the wisdom of George. But his spiritual odyssey must reach beyond his uncle's death-- to the hell of Vietnam and back again-- and to search among the stars before he finds a vision of his soul."~cover description.

I actually own this one because I also go to bookstores and check out the shelves. (I believe this one was a gift from Mo) But I can't read this when I am tired or too mind weary so I needed something a little less mentally challenging and since I was headed to Key West for vacation and had already done some reading on Hemingway in Key West, I thought I would do a larger work on Hemingway. So I am also reading this:

But then a favorite author came out with a new book and I always enjoy a book at lunchtime so I checked it out--- (picture below in Oct 17th blog entry) Hitch-22 Christopher Hitchen's memoir. He was diagnosed with cancer in his esophagus as the book was released and we have since learned that he is dying with great courage. His is a poignant story that is worth reading though while writing not thought to be over.
  

And then I heard that Robert Reich was going to have a new book coming out and I quickly ordered that from libaria so that I could receive it upon release. It arrived last week and now I have this in my book bag. Libaria is perfect for a book like this as it is probably a little too Current Eventy to really purchase but it looks quite interesting if you have any interest (which I do) in the current economic crisis and how we can make the world a more equitable place. 

And then today I got another new book in that I have been looking forward to reading...

 But that doesn't even count the books that I purchased at the bookstores we frequent as frequently as possible. Most recently I found a hilarious book by Mark Leyner that I will be reading soon, I hope, and another by Don Delillo... (no descriptions as I haven't the time, I'm too busy with my other books right now! Suffice it to say that both books look terrific)

So many books, so little time!!!