I think I'm going to write tonight. Some new ideas have been swirling around my head, working their way into words. I've been carrying around my delightful red Moleskin notebook from the artist retreat weekend, sure that at some point the words will finally emerge.
This might be their time.
I think I've mentioned the book I've been working on: "La Isla Encontrada" (The Found Island). The theme is loss and how people deal with it told through a series of vignettes. I explained this to my father last night and he said it sounded a lot like The Canterbury Tales. It most definitely is. These people are all emotional pilgrims, searching for a sense of meaning in their worlds.
What I like best about the concept is that each person's story is told through the lens of someone else. I'm intrigued by the idea of seeing loss in a life filtered through a third-party's eye.
So far, I have completed half of the boat captain's story and have started the Cuban's story. The forgotten mother is in outline form. What captivates me right now, though, is the runner's tale. All I know for sure at this point is that, as her name implies, she is running from something. I'm just a tad bit EXCITED to find out what that something is.
For now, I think I will pull out some more of the Australian cab I have sitting in the kitchen, turn on some Pearl Jam (one of the runner's theme songs is "Drifting"), and see what she decides to unveil.
I'll also leave you with the very beginning of the Cuban's story.
My arms ached. Salt water burned my lungs. White-capped waves plowed against and over my head, filling my nostrils with the sea water. I wanted to stop swimming, to succumb to my exhaustion and give my broken, aching body to the ocean. Yet, I was on a mission--to die. I needed to swim until I could no longer think and my body could no longer move on its own. Anything less meant the possibility that I would survive this final excursion into the water that stole my world. (c) 2010.
This might be their time.
I think I've mentioned the book I've been working on: "La Isla Encontrada" (The Found Island). The theme is loss and how people deal with it told through a series of vignettes. I explained this to my father last night and he said it sounded a lot like The Canterbury Tales. It most definitely is. These people are all emotional pilgrims, searching for a sense of meaning in their worlds.
What I like best about the concept is that each person's story is told through the lens of someone else. I'm intrigued by the idea of seeing loss in a life filtered through a third-party's eye.
So far, I have completed half of the boat captain's story and have started the Cuban's story. The forgotten mother is in outline form. What captivates me right now, though, is the runner's tale. All I know for sure at this point is that, as her name implies, she is running from something. I'm just a tad bit EXCITED to find out what that something is.
For now, I think I will pull out some more of the Australian cab I have sitting in the kitchen, turn on some Pearl Jam (one of the runner's theme songs is "Drifting"), and see what she decides to unveil.
I'll also leave you with the very beginning of the Cuban's story.
My arms ached. Salt water burned my lungs. White-capped waves plowed against and over my head, filling my nostrils with the sea water. I wanted to stop swimming, to succumb to my exhaustion and give my broken, aching body to the ocean. Yet, I was on a mission--to die. I needed to swim until I could no longer think and my body could no longer move on its own. Anything less meant the possibility that I would survive this final excursion into the water that stole my world. (c) 2010.
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