...or at least, the absence.
Most of my posts lately have been book reviews. Apologies, as I have been writing, submitting, and taking care of the fly. I could say that I will try to be better about posting, but I always say that, so...
The LOML is leaving today for a business trip to the UK. I always worry when he flies. Only a couple of days, thankfully, returning by Friday evening. And hey, he has the added bonus of seeing some snow. Back here its supposed to be mid 70's by the end of the week, so he'll be returning to shorts & t-shirt weather. The year's first barbecue might just be in order.
In other news, I have finally been "officially" published. Twisted Tongue #12 went live yesterday, and it contains my story, "What Goes Around", along with a poem of mine, "Wicked." You can download a PDF of the issue here. Enjoy!
The music died 50 years ago today. Whenever I hear that song, it makes me wistfully sad, not only because of the tragedy, but because it makes me long for a time I never knew - that golden time when we are teenagers without care, immortal, inviolate creatures who will conquer the world. McLean captures that feeling so beautifully.
For the curious, a few links. Wikipedia's article about the crash; Photos (warning, you can see bodies); an analysis of the lyrics of "American Pie"; an article on the death of Buddy Holly; how Waylon Jennings carried the pain of what happened that night his entire life; and finally, the exhumation of the Big Bopper by his son who was born after his death. It was the first time he'd ever laid eyes on his father.
Take time today to look around you and take a long breath of air. Enjoy the feeling of being alive. Conquer the world.
The Absence of Malice
Posted by Carinthia at 9:33 AM
Labels: Day the Music Died, What Goes Around, Wicked
1 Comment:
Congratulations! It is awesome seeing your work in print. I loved Wicked, it painted a vivid image in my head. What Goes Around is probably one of your shorter stories, but your gift with words comes through. I love lines like this one:
One year a family of mice chewed a small hole in one end of the box, giving them a tiny view and thin tendrils of dark, stuffy air.
Your words really bring the setting to life. I can't wait to see your longer works in print.
Post a Comment