Posts made in May, 2013

Advance Review

Posted on May 27, 2013 | 0 comments

Advance Review

So, the advance review copies of WASHASHORE arrived on my front porch a couple of days ago. Thunk! It was a big moment for me.  You can see my reaction here: So no, it’s not the real cover art, that’s still to come . . . but it’s a book! This story that has been crawling around in my head (and in two laptops) for so long that I almost can’t remember when I wasn’t either writing, re-writing, workshopping, submitting, revising, re-imagining or re-working it, is printed on paper, properly formatted, bound at the edges, prefaced with a copyright notice and all that familiar front matter, and smelling like a book. Yes, it’s a big...

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Island Bound

Posted on May 27, 2013 | 0 comments

Island Bound

I’ll be heading to the Vineyard later this week to get the house ready for the season. It’s just a four-day visit and I haven’t a prayer of getting everything done that needs to be done, (or, as they say here in Ohio, “needs done”), but I will accomplish a few things. I’ll tangle with a forest of poison ivy, wash the yellow film of pollen from the windows, and clean the shed and check it for intruders. I’ll sort and count the sheets, and stock the paper towels and laundry soap. I’ll mend the screens the squirrels tore this winter. I’ll rake and mulch the flower beds. If all goes according to plan, I’ll thank my stars for Scarlett, who’s already cut the grass a couple of times; last year I had to hack it down with this: I’ll enjoy some pleasures, too. I’ll take my first outside shower of the year, a special Vineyard tradition, and I’ll eat some bluefish—something we just don’t get in Ohio (it doesn’t last long enough to ship it here). I’ll walk on Lucy Vincent Beach, or maybe Long Point or Menemsha Hills. I’ll sip my coffee on the deck and listen to the bird music. I’ll pay a visit to Waskosim’s Rock and breathe a few thankful breaths as I take in the wraparound view. I’ll go the long way ’round on Middle Road, just to remind myself of its gnarled, rustic beauty. It will be hard to leave. But then, it always is. And what a privilege to go at...

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