While the blog has been hibernating, I've been painting watercolors and working on the first draft of a follow-up novel to An Invitation to the Party. Every group I've spoken to since Invitation was published has told me my sentences are too long and vocabulary too recondite (see? I'm hopeless). But when I reply by saying okay, I'll write shorter sentences and use easy words, the reaction is oh no, don't do that. It's a mystery. I don't think I can change anyway. Like Popeye, I yam what I yam. (Although that is 3 short sentences in a row.)
The new novel is also set in Haven, though with a new set of characters (familiar faces do keep turning up - so far George, Garnet's next-door neighbor, and Sylvie, the librarian). I've been doing character sketches and thought you might enjoy reading a few and meeting some of the new kids: Frank Andrews (our hero) At 80, Frank still has an abundance of salt and pepper hair that invariably looks 2 weeks past due for a haircut. His left knee is janky and the slight hesitancy in his stride demonstrates how little confidence he has in its ability to dependably move him forward. Frank’s clothes have a curious shabby, vintage appeal-probably because the majority of them were acquired decades ago. And since his wife died, Frank’s face in repose wears the expression of someone nursing an incipient toothache. Ann Conner (Frank's wife) The problem is that, being dead, Ann is difficult to pin down. She is not the person she was when she was alive. For one thing, being pure (or not so pure as she might insist) spirit, she no longer has any defining physical characteristics, except perhaps for the faintly husky, human voice (think Lauren Bacall) she had in life which she uses to communicate with Frank from the beyond, and the same contagious laugh. Death changes one’s outlook and one’s reactions to events. One tends to care less about human concerns and bothersome emotions, jealousy, for one, and anger, though irritability remains fully intact. Ann says you become remarkably clear-headed now that the latter part of that hyphenated combination is missing, or maybe because it is missing. She agrees with her husband that there’s a good chance the voice Frank thinks he hears may simply be a figment of his grieving imagination, or a manifestation of an undiagnosed brain tumor, maybe a psychosis, say a mild case of schizophrenia; it does present them with a conundrum they are unlikely to resolve. The interesting thing, Ann has discovered in the afterlife is that love, the affection she felt in real life for Frank, has not disappeared. Go figure. She would have predicted it would have been the first thing to go. Jackie Salerno and her dog, Leo: (Frank's boarders) On her desk is a framed 8x10 of Jackie holding puppy Leo on the day she picked him up from the shelter. Sporting a very bad perm, our girl reporter is skinny as a stick, her serious expression only emphasizing a painfully plain face with a scar that knifes through her left eyebrow. In contrast, Leo, is criminally cute. Yet, when animated as Jackie nearly always is, she lights up, the sheer force of personality like an electrical charge informing her affect. Interested in everything and everyone else, there is a bounce to her step. One hardly notices the scar at all. Jolene (Ann's Maine Coon cat) Frank, who is definitely not a cat person, has Ann's Maine Coon, Jolene. He'd given Ann his word he’d keep and care for Jojo if anything happened, and he's kept his promise despite neither cat nor man being much enamored of the other, each reminding the other way too much of a third missing and missed party. Now his mornings begin early, the cat jumping on his chest at five in the AM, trilling her desire for breakfast. They sleep together although they do not particularly like each other. Occasionally, Frank thinks how many of his liaisons could be described thus. And Jolene chirps her unhappiness, voicing her opinion to Frank all day long, and hardly ever in sedate meows. Jolene is one noisy feline. Might as well be a dog, says Frank. Stay tuned . . .
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
We tend to write about what we know. I am a writer, thus this blog: Why write? What, when, where to write? Stay tuned. Archives
April 2024
|