On, In, and Around Mondays: Writing Beyond the Picket Fence
I had to read it for a project, but the dullness of it overwhelmed me every time I opened the pages.
What was it? This malaise I felt? I could not put my finger on it. Until this morning.
Here in the Northeast, we are always reminded of seasons. The leaves fall. We pick them up. Seeds scatter. Spring brings milkweed where we had not seen it the year before. A hemlock has broken in winter, but there, look! A new maple at the edge of the yard.
The book, I knew its author from years before. But in these new pages, nothing had moved. The same leaves were on the same tree, and a little white picket fence—though aged—still bordered the property.
Yesterday I was listening to Over the Rhine's newer (albeit, not new) album The Trumpet Child (not sure why the dates are mixed up on Amazon, but this *is* a newer album :). Anyway, part of me still wanted Ohio. How could Karin and Linford leave Ohio? How dare they move? That musical place was just so... right.
Even as this discontent stirred, a surprising respect welled within me. These new songs have ache and beauty and playfulness (hard to find in one place). And I just can't stop listening to them. (Trouble is a current personal favorite.)
As an author, as a person, I want to put my finger on this kind of creative willingness to move. I do.
On, In and Around Mondays (which partly means you can post any day and still add a link) is an invitation to write from where you are. Tell us what is on, in, around (over, under, near, by...) you. Feel free to write any which way... compose a tight poem or just ramble for a few paragraphs. But we should feel a sense of place. Would you like to try? Write something 'in place' and add your link below.
If you could kindly link back here when you post, it will create a central meeting place. :)
This post is also shared with Laura Boggess, for...