Well finally, after 5 years dealing with my “condition” I feel both the strength and motivation, enough so that I can invest the time marketing my book, my novelette, Two Little Girls.
I hear that this is when the real work begins. After all, the words came pouring out of me and in less than two weeks I had created a story, a book!
It all started with an unexpected visit to my home. It was 2010. I was living alone in the big house. The youngest member of my family of 12, recently reduced to a shadow of itself by its three most significant members, In order of their passing, my maternal aunt, my father and my mother. My visitor was the only remaining relative of my parents’ generation, a generation that thought it only polite and necessary to “come calling” on extended family. During his visits I can recall the conversations and the world that formed around them, with the quietly polite familiarity that Simon shared with my parents. But today he’d come to visit with me. I was thrust into connecting with him as one adult to another.
It was forced and odd as we two sat in Mother’s living room. It wasn’t long before he told me the news that my grandparent’s farm had been sold to a developer. The house, the barn, the smokehouse, everything was gone.
I couldn’t move. I never thought that it would be destroyed; perhaps renovated beyond recognition but not that it wouldn’t be there in some form for me to visit whenever I chose to do so.
Instantly it seemed the earth around me fell away and I was standing on a summit looking out with no point of reference. In an attempt to hold on to what I remember, a story evolved to include all that remained with me of my grandparents farm in Virginia.
