Dear Subscribers,
Thank you early readers of my memoir River Diary: My Summer of Grace, Solitude and 35 Geese and novella Angelica’s Last Breath, inspired by Tolstoy’s The Death of Ivan Ilyich. Because of your feedback and support, these works are currently being readied for publication in traditional e-book and trade paperback formats, with the opportunity to reach a much larger audience.
If you haven’t already downloaded my latest works, you are invited to do so now. They will be available for free through April 15. Formal publication date and details to be announced.
Download FREE my memoir River Diary HERE
Download FREE my novella Angelica’s Last Breath HERE.
Following are two brief excerpts.
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From River Diary:
Bottles and Twigs
The river is full of purpose this morning after several big days of rain. Yesterday, Dan and I saw a tree trunk with bare broken branches rush past in the tumescent flow. Today, the river is down to twigs, a brown bottle and a sprinkling of foam. Only I sit absolutely still, not even able to put pen to paper as the rain immediately runs the words into inky black rivers down the page. Surrendering, I put the diary down, sitting not with purpose, but with relief.
After months struggling to make peace between my vocation as a writer and my aspirations to be a contemplative, I am reconciled. Each discarded bottle, twig and smear is taking something of me with it: the urge to save those for whom I care, the compulsion to be loved and adored. None of it matters.
Writes Thomas Merton: “If You allow people to praise me, I shall not worry. If You let them blame me, I shall worry even less, but be glad. If You send me work I shall embrace it with joy and it will be rest to me because it is Your will. And if You send me rest, I will rest in You.
Only save me from myself. Save me from my own, private poisonous urge to change everything, to act without reason, to move for movement’s sake, to unsettle everything You have ordained. Let me rest in Your will and be silent. Then the light of Your joy will warm my life. Its fire will burn in my heart and shine in Your glory. This is what I live for. Amen, Amen.”
I am beginning to understand that there really is nothing to fear, for when all is stripped away, what remains is God.
Download FREE my memoir River Diary HERE
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From Angelica’s Last Breath:
Standing at the open coffin was Ivan Dempster, the editor of the local newspaper who had been both the first in Portland to interview Angelica when her book first hit the New York Times bestseller list and again, more recently, about the Angel Chi sequel she was working on. Now that he had arrived at his destination, he was confused—as many invariably are—about what was expected of him and, in point of fact, whether he should have come at all. The only thing he could summon up at the moment that seemed in any way appropriate was a prayer he’d learned in a 12 Step Program. He bent over the coffin in something of a bow, simultaneously using the opportunity to surrepticiously look about the room to see who else may have arrived.
Ivan recognized the middle-aged hospice nurse, Leticia Sanchez, who had previously attended the deaths of a number of people of note in Portland. Invariably, the wife or daughter would refer to the serenely plump woman, “Letty”, as an angel who had graced the final hours with loving kindness. Standing nearby was Angelica’s friend Sarah, the owner of the local bookstore, who was shivering helplessly in the presence of death. Joanne, a member of the board of the Chamber of Commerce, a good customer, attempted unsuccessfully to comfort her. Finally, Ivan spotted the figure of the mayor brushing past the girls in pink. Making something of a bigger show of bowing, Ivan backed away at an angle, setting his trajectory in hopes they would casually intersect. He needed to fact-check one last bit of information for a story on a new commercial development, and this would save him the call.
Download FREE my novella Angelica’s Last Breath HERE.
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