Peace

February 13, 2013December 22, 2014 / Lisa / Leave a comment

Just wanted to share this video of the peace march held in the town I live near. One local woman started this a few years ago as a way to celebrate her birthday. I missed this march, but one of the things I love about the video is thinking about the kids.

I’ve watched all of the kids in this clip grow up. I’ve celebrated some of their births, laughed with them, and shared tears with a few. Two in particular, Sky and Helen, have just beautiful spirits. And are growing into beautiful young women. Sky has the strength of her mother, as you can see here when she jumps in a snow melt river. She’s always been our little mountain wild child. And she’s a writer.

So I see the kids here and think about the memories they are creating as they walk in this tiny peace march.

Who knows what seeds have been planted.

Titles

February 8, 2013February 8, 2013 / Lisa / 13 Comments

What makes you pick up a new book? Usually it’s the title that catches my eye first.

Here are some titles that have resulted in the discovery of a great story: The Crossing Places (Elly Griffiths), Though Not Dead (Dana
Stabenow), Crocodile on the Sandbank (Elizabeth Peters), She Walks These Hills (Sharon McCrumb), and many, many more. I’m sure when I blow out the kerosene lantern I’m going to remember several I should have listed. And it would be interesting to see what titles you like.

But this is more about the difficulty in catching just the right title for your own work. What an impossible thing. I’ve recently sent a story off for editing, with no title. Here are a couple failed ideas.

There’s a line in the story about a small house up against a canyon wall, with rocks scattered on its roof ‘like some weird mountain rain’. I love that line and thought ‘Mountain Rain’, great title! Until I realized that this is part of the ‘Mountain Mystery series’, which is just way too many mountains. The title and subtitle could almost form a mountain range on their own.

Then I thought about the name of some liquid libation that shows up in the story: Silver Mist. Because the liquid is distilled in a silver mining area. But honestly that title did nothing for me.

So I’m still wandering around waiting for inspiration. The right title will show up eventually. In the meantime, I’m pondering what makes a good title. Why one works and another doesn’t.

In some ways it’s obvious. A book called Encrypted won’t be picked up by me. Neither will Lady Sophia’s Rescue (but my sister will snap that one up). So the title clues me in that the book is a genre I like to read. Like I said, obvious.

Yet there are a lot of mystery titles I don’t pick up. So just as obviously, the title is simply luck of the draw. There’s something in the words that I as a reader respond to. The mystery reader standing next to me might pass up the same book I just felt an urge to read.

If it’s all so arbitrary then why is it so hard to come up with a title? Seems like it should be the easiest part. Or at least a little easier than writing the whole story to begin with.

I wonder if anyone has ever titled their book, ‘Pick me! Pick me!’

Some more titles

A Ghost of a Song

February 2, 2013December 22, 2014 / Lisa / 2 Comments

Recently I posted a Ghost of a Story and since then have been trying to figure out how to add the song. I’ve failed and my teenager isn’t available to save me. Instead, I’ve transcribed the words.

First, a reminder.

This song was written by a friend, for a young woman who hung herself many years ago in an old hotel. People used to talk about hearing doors slam, seeing her in the window, and hearing her moving things in the kitchens. But once the hotel closed and started falling in, she was alone. The song nagged my friend, like all stories do that demand to be told. So he finally gave in and wrote it down. And then he sang to Annabelle in the hotel.

Picture the scene. A group of ghost hunters with all their equipment. My friend with his mandolin. A three-story hotel, built in the 1800s, empty since 2001. Windows broken, roof leaking, vandalized, no power. Can you hear creaking of old wood, swollen with Pacific Northwest damp? Can you smell mildew, feel cold? Are you struggling to see what is just outside the circle of light from your headlamp or flashlight? Can you sense sadness in the shadows?

If so, listen and you might be able to hear the notes of the mandolin as you read the words my friend wrote to Annabelle.

Annabelle’s Song

I’ve heard the stories

about your being here

in this cold empty space

you can’t shed any more tears

someone has done you wrong

now you wander these halls alone.

oh Annabelle

wouldn’t you like to go home?

Go on home Annabelle

go on and walk on into the light

the angels of mercy are waiting

to help you make it through the night

and your lover’s there wondering

wondering when it is you that might come home

so won’t you go there now dear Annabelle

you’ve done your time of being alone.

I can only imagine

how cold and lonesome

this could be

but for you I see

a stairway to heaven

or at least the next one

in the big spirit home

in the big spirit home.

So go on home Annabelle

go on and walk on into the light

The angels of mercy are waiting

to help you make it through the night

and your lover’s there wondering

wondering when it is that you might come home

so won’t you go there now dear Annabelle

you’ve done your time of being alone.

So won’t you go there now dear Annabelle

you’ve done your time of being alone.

I apologize for the weird formatting. I broke the sentences up by pauses in the song, trying to honor the phrasing of poetry. Hopefully the pauses helped you hear the tune. If not, the song will be released on a CD before too long, with a youtube video I’ll be able to link for you.

Until then, I like to think that Annabelle has gone home. And our town may just be the emptier for that.