Echoes in a Hollow Space

Random quote of the day:

“I saw a dead guy on the front porch of a shotgun double on a working-class street, and the only sound was wind chimes.  Everybody here has a dead-guy story now.  Everybody here will always be different.”

—Chris Rose, “The First Time Back,” 1 Dead in Attic: After Katrina

 

Disclaimer:  The views expressed in this random quote of the day do not necessarily reflect the views of the poster, her immediate family, Siegfried and Roy, Leonard Maltin, or the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. They do, however, sometimes reflect the views of the Cottingley Fairies.

Mirrored from Better Than Dead.

Random quote of the day:

 

“If there was no New Orleans, America would be just a bunch of free people dying of boredom.”

—Judy Deck, email to Chris Rose, quoted in 1 Dead in Attic

 

Disclaimer:  The views expressed in this random quote of the day do not necessarily reflect the views of the poster, her immediate family, Siegfried and Roy, Leonard Maltin, or the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. They do, however, sometimes reflect the views of the Cottingley Fairies.

Mirrored from Better Than Dead.

I guess I started reading this collection of essays by Chris Rose as a kind of talisman, hoping history doesn't repeat itself, not at almost the same damn time of year, not before New Orleans has gotten back on its feet, while it's still recovering and reeling from betrayal and mismanagement and damned shameful neglect.

But it may take awhile to get all the way through the book. It's riveting, but emotional, and so, so good. Understated and beautiful writing—every page, so far, a journey into a place I hope we never go again.

I really hope Gustav turns out to be media hype, but the fact is, it's already a killer. It's slammed Cuba hard and even if it misses New Orleans, it will probably slam into some other place hard. So, God bless Cuba, God bless New Orleans, and God bless that unknown place of landfall.

I hope it's enough. I'll keep reading my talisman and hoping. Don't know what else I can do.

Another way to help: In SoCal, anyway. See if there are similar programs in your area. Help pack boxes of relief supplies:

http://www.childrenshungerfund.org/

Quote of the day:

"Not only are there no happy endings, there aren't even any endings."

—Neil Gaiman, American Gods

Gas price of the day: Last night I paid $3.39 a gallon at my regular station for my regular gas. It was down in the two-nineties last time I filled up. Good thing I don't drive much. I've had the car since December and just barely passed the 3000 mile mark. Thank heavens I live close to work.

I didn't stick to my usual habit of waiting until I was on fumes before refilling--although there aren't any gas shortages here. I needed gas, but I had maybe a third of a tank to go.

I'd take mass transit if it was conveniently available. About the only way I could drive less would be to take the bus to work. And although I only live about seven miles from my job, I'd have to take two different buses to get there. Even our bus system sucks in L.A. The service is decent (especially so on the Santa Monica Blue Bus), but everything is such a patchwork of municipalities that there are three different bus companies operating in my immediate vicinity--LA, Santa Monica, Culver City. The Metro only exists in downtown LA and outlying suburbs.

So far there are no connecting lines here on the Westside. Too much pricy real estate here, I guess. The snooty rich folks don't want to encourage the riff-raff coming into their communities. So their maids and nannies have to make do with transferring buses multiple times in order to come into the Westside to do their job. Sometimes I loathe Westsiders, even though I've lived here all my life; even though I've been amongst the riff-raff contingent still clinging to the few riff-raff enclaves left over on this side of town.

Sorry. Not helpful. But scenes like the ones in New Orleans always bring out my working class resentment—even though it's not at all helpful in healing the ills there. I can't help but think that if the people left behind and in so much trouble had been rich folks, help would have gotten there much sooner.

Sorry again. Anger anesthetizes.

Typo of note: even though I've been amongst the riff-raff contingent still clinging to the few riff-raff enclaves left over on this side of time.



The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand:
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
'If this were only cleared away,'
They said, 'it would be grand.'

'If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year,
Do you suppose,' the Walrus said,
'That they could get it clear?'
'I doubt it,' said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.

I'm trying to live in the present tense, but mostly the present tense is just making me furious. Now, anger can be a good motivator when it's me and my stuff and I need to get moving. But when it's the national or world stuff and there's not a damned thing I can do about it but stew at all the lies and...it's just destructive. So I let it off the leash a couple of times a day in the privacy of my own mind, or with like-minded cronies, then try to concentrate on something else. Results are variable.

Writing business of the day: I posted chapter one of Charged With Folly to the workshop. The urge to abandon Night Warrior is great, but I'm about three-quarters of the way through chapter 27 and the threads of all three timelines are starting to come together. I'm still plugging away because...I do have to finish it. I reckon I've got two or three sections in the 6th century left, maybe the same for 1968 and 1977. And maybe less. It all depends on how much I can accomplish during each transition. I'm currently in '68 and things are coming together somewhat faster than I anticipated when I made the last transition. So, I may finish this thing.

You know, I love those characters and I really want to do right by them—that's not the reason I feel like abandoning the story. I've just come to the conclusion that the world they inhabit isn't selling and I need to move on to a new world.

Of course, if Shivery Bones sells within the next year, I'll be right back in that universe and writing my little fingers off.

Quote of the day:

"Our soul...does not simply sit in a body like water in a jar. Rather, it merges with the body, so that each permeates the other as the golden color of a sunflower permeates its petals."

—Jalaja Bonheim, Aphrodite's Daughters