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Showing posts from August, 2009

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Grief in Storytelling

I'm hard at work on STEALING THUNDER. The number 2 book in the Darkness Paranormal series that I'm writing. As in STEALING DARKNESS, this book deals considerably with grief. It's a recurring theme for most of my work, mostly because of the truth of the emotion. InSTEALING DARKNESS, the grief is over an unseen loss and how it relates to her own inability to save someone. But in STEALING THUNDER, the grief has several avenues. The first is Graham's coming to terms with the loss of his mother, a loss he thought he dealt with long ago. For Grace, it's watching a friend slowing fading away. And for a little girl, it's dealing with the grief of watching her mother die and knowing there's no way to stop it.

People automatically think that grief is something that happens after death. But in fact, from the moment we realize the finality of a situation we are forced to deal with our own mortality, and the inevitability of loss. I've often heard people say that i…

Blustery wind and an Irish Prayer

A raw and blustery wind is heading for the Maine coast. The remnants of a hurricane are ready to hit the shores. Some would say it's not a fitting day for much. But my Dad-in-Law would appreciate the iron of such wild weather today, of all days. Today we're burying him... my Dad-in-Law. Notice you won't hear me call him "Father"-in-Law because the man was much more of a Dad to me than the remote austere image taht such a formal name as "father" conjures. He was an imposing man with his stout Scotman's build, but he was graced with a soft voice that could grow and thunder and resonate until it was clear that all in the house could hear him. But he usually chose a much quieter form of communication. He was a gentle soul, who from my first meeting became a friend to me. I, along with my family, will miss him immeasurably.

Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep
I am not there... I do not sleep.
I am the thousand winds that blow...
I am the diamond glints on snow…

We'll Know When We Get There: Sincerely, John Hughes

If you haven't read this... please do so. There can be no better tribute to a man who had such an amazing effect on our lives...
We'll Know When We Get There: Sincerely, John Hughes
I was Molly Ringwald in Sixteen Candles... minus getting the cute guy with the car. I was the angst ridden, thoroughly strange (I intended it be more an individualistic aura), and completely awkward teenager. In the Breakfast Club I was more of Ally Sheedy's character, the loner looking at life from the outside and completely wishing that I could be "one of them" if only for a short while. I wanted to be daring and outrageous like Ferris Beuller and funny like Ducky. More than anything... I wanted someone who could look into my life and make it something more. I was a teenager living in the John Hughes era. And somehow, he made it okay.
I still want to drive a pink Opal. But now, looking back, I find that if Mr. Hughes hadn't offered me the passport to be just a little bit off ce…