2010 didn’t work out the way I’d thought and hoped,
but that’s why it’s called Life.
I’m headed into 2011 with my healthy, mostly-happy family,
and a brand new project that makes me grateful to be a writer.
I have hopes and dreams for 2011 and will try my hardest to make them come true.
Just like this blue jay.
I wish each and every one of you a Happy New Year,
and look forward to cheering you on in 2011 as you reach for your dreams.
At the risk of losing friends who are already overwhelmed by their TBR piles
(hello, !), I’m going to share thoughts on one more book:
A MIGHTY LONG WAY: My Journey to Justice at Little Rock Central High School
By Carlotta Walls LaNier.
This is one woman’s personal account of her experiences as part of
the "Little Rock Nine," and while I thought I was fully aware of what
it was like during desegregation of the south, this book proved otherwise.
For instance, I did not know the students had their own personal military
guards to escort them through the halls. And that despite the armed protection,
ignorant, racist teenagers still spit on the black students and knocked their books to the floor.
It was painful reading the cruel details of what those brave children and their
families endured in Arkansas, but it’s essential to our progress as a nation that
we acknowledge the specifics. I’m ashamed I never took the time to fully research
those events.
The "Little Rock Nine" took their historic steps in 1957, but here we are in 2010
with more of the same ignorance and racism directed toward Obama and the Black
Congressional Caucus. We can either weep, or fight back.
I encourage everyone to read A MIGHTY LONG WAY and to share it with your children.
Ignorance of our past will only lead to more injustice.
I’m having a great time reading an eclectic mix of books lately,
and that includes JUST KIDS by Patti Smith.
She promised Robert Mapplethorpe she’d tell their story,
and she does.
From the inside flap (because it’s so beautiful and spot-on):
It was the summer Coltrane died, the summer of love and riots,
and the summer when a chance encounter in Brooklyn led two
young people on a path of art, devotion, and initiation. Patti Smith
would evolve as a poet and performer, and Robert Mapplethorpe
would direct his highly provocative style toward photography.
Bound in innocence and enthusiasm, they traversed the city from
Coney Island to Forty-second Street; and in 1969, the pair set up
camp at the infamous Hotel Chelsea. It was a time of heightened
awareness, when the worlds of poetry, rock and roll, art, and sexual
politics were colliding and exploding. In this milieu, fueled by their
mutual dreams and drives, they would prod and provide for one
another during the hungry years.
JUST KIDS begins as a love story and ends as an elegy. It serves
as a salute to New York City during the late sixties and seventies and to
its rich and poor, its hustlers and hellions. A true fable, it is a portrait of
two young artists’ ascent, a prelude to fame.
I was blown away by the circumstances they faced together,
the literal cold and hunger, and their ability to scratch out an existence
on their own terms.
And because I’ve long been a fan of the Chelsea Hotel (after learning
it was where Bob Dylan stayed up all night writing "Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands"
for his wife), I particularly enjoyed the section on Patti and Robert’s time there.
I even dug out my copy of this photographic essay,
CHELSEA HOTEL By Claudio Edinger,
and read up on some of the people Patti mentioned in her book.
(I’m a bit torn about what to call the hotel since Patti refers to it as the
Hotel Chelsea but the other book calls it the Chelsea Hotel, as does
Bob Dylan in his song, Sara).
I highly recommend JUST KIDS. It’s beautifully written (and gave me a
whole new way of listening to Horses).
If you’ve ever loved and lost someone, this book will speak to you.
And if you’ve ever held dreams but despaired of reaching them,
JUST KIDS will speak to you plus give you a kick in the ass.
Way back in October, posted an interview
with Erin Blakemore, author of THE HEROINE’S BOOKSHELF:
Life Lessons from Jane Austen to Laura Ingalls Wilder.
Lucky duck that I am, I won a copy of the book.
I read it as soon as it arrived but am only just now getting around
to sharing my thoughts because I worried I wouldn’t do the book justice.
I’m still not confident I will, but am forging ahead.
Ahem.
I have three words for you: Read this now.
Erin Blakemore divided her book into twelve parts
and assigned each a fictional character:
Self
Faith
Happiness
Dignity
Family Ties
Indulgence
Fight
Compassion
Simplicity
Steadfastness
Ambition
Magic
For instance, Celie from THE COLOR PURPLE comes under Dignity,
and TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD’s Scout Finch represents Compassion.
Not only does Ms. Blakemore highlight the characters’ connections to
those traits, but also the women who created those characters.
Wow.
As a writer who has experienced a fair share of the emotional ups and downs
associated with the pursuit of publication, I very much appreciated learning the
background on the authors’ lives.
(A sneak peek: They lived some turbulent lives. Wow.)
I’ve read all but two of the highlighted novels (and will read those others!),
but gained fresh perspectives on all those heroines.
Reading THE HEROINE’S BOOKSHELF was like having a private book club
discussion in the luxury of my own bed (yes, I read the entire book propped
against pillows.) At the risk of sounding contradictory, I felt both comforted and
adventurous as I read this book; it reaffirmed earlier thoughts and exposed me to new ideas.
Do your literary soul a favor and read THE HEROINE’S BOOKSHELF now.
AGNES by Tony Cochran
Here’s to our teeth staying in our heads, inventive jewelry, and delicious coffee!
It’s hard to wallow in the doldrums when there’s such exquisiteness in the world.
© Tracy Abell 2010
Wishing everyone a glorious day!
I’m sorting through a myriad of emotions this morning
as 2010 winds down and bleeds into 2011.
Trying to wrap my head around what it all means for me and my writing.
Image from morguefiles.com
I’m considering investing in a wig and whole new persona.
AGNES by Tony Cochran
I can’t help thinking of the little spat I got in with the resident evangelist at the meal on Monday.
She thinks it’s her right to tell people they’ll go to hell unless they accept her religious dogma,
and got testy with me when I told her to knock it off.
Wonder how her teeth feel today?
I’ve been looking forward to this day for quite some time.
We’re going to start gaining daylight again!
And what better way to celebrate than with a House Finch Party?!
© Tracy Abell 2010
AGNES by Tony Cochran
This reminds me of getting my first chapter work-shopped
by Marilynne Robinson and the rest of the summer session crew.
I threw an awful lot into those opening pages, and after listening
to the same refrain from most everyone present ("too much, too soon"),
I broke workshop protocol and blurted: "I get it, it’s a shit storm."
AGNES by Tony Cochran
This is where Agnes and I part ways;
I’m most definitely shooting for good.
I’m nearing the end of BIRD BRAIN revisions,
and have called upon my spirit guide.
Image from morguefiles.com
Methinks I’m home free.
Thought maybe I could convert today’s feelings
of overwhelm and despair with a positive image,
so went to morguefiles.com and typed "happiness."
This image came up:
Works for me!
Ready or not, here I come.
Zebu is now a high school freshman
and on the basketball team.
Last night was his first game, but I wasn’t there.
Zebu was a bit nervous and told Zippy and me
it would be better if we didn’t attend.
Wildebeest (junior) went to the game
along with three friends.
Apparently they yelled and cheered for everything
Zebu did on the court, and he played a great game.
He said he wants Wildebeest & Co at every game.
Image from morguefiles.com
There has been a HUGE shift in their relationship,
and I think it’s because they’re in high school together.
Somehow that’s equalized their kinship,
and now they truly enjoy each other’s company.
I wanted to share this because I know some of you despair
that your younger children will ever be friends.
There’s no guarantee they will, of course, but it doesn’t hurt
for me to dangle some hope.
The hope that someday things would be better
got me through some difficult times with those boys.
Tracy Abell 