|link to original here|
I’ve recently been going back through some of my old journal entries to find a short excerpt I could share here to illustrate my point, but it hurts too much. It hurts to re-read them, it hurts to think about putting a spotlight on them, it hurts to up-chuck those memories and piece through the acidic remains of last year’s dinner.
It hurts to remember what bellow-bottom looks and feels like.
So instead I’ll revert to telling you about why I was going back through said journals.
Peggy Strack, from this interview, mailed me a copy of her debut novel, A Stop in the Park. Obviously it hit some soul-chords if it sent me metaphorically crawling into my dusty attic (I don’t have an attic, but that’s where I’d hide my journals from that time period if I had one) to retrieve my erratic scribblings.
Michael Stolis and his wife Jamie are the main characters in her book, and they’re having a hard go of it, to put it lightly. I know what that’s like. I was hooked by page two.
Almost immediately I was deeply connected to her characters. They do things in the story that make you go, “No, no! Don’t do that!” But then they do, and then they learn and change, and you learn and change with them. You feel the things they feel, because Strack is so good at pulling out the emotions of the reader as we live vicariously through these people.
On top of that, her dialogue is awesome. Spot on every time. I kept wanting to rush to the next conversation, but knew I’d be missing out on all this delicious detail if I did. Even now when I think back over the explosive images Strack created, there was always some detail or color to help keep you grounded in that moment of the story. The orange splatter on the wall, the color of his “prison,” the topaz sky…
Now, I am an avid fantasy reader, and because of this I’ll (shamefully?) admit that even though I knew from the start this book wasn’t written to fit into the sci-fi/fantasy genre, I kept wanting some element of magic to pop up and fix everything. Sorry folks, there are no fairy godmothers or magic wands. But?
But. As the story unfolded, a certain sort of magic did sneak in. No one wore cloaks or had elven ears, but a certain man, and a certain set of mistakes and circumstances, help the characters evolve and grow as individuals. I won’t spoil the end by telling you whether they grow closer together or farther apart as a couple, though, because you have to get the book yourself to find out.
Here’s the link to where it’s available this Thursday (September 20).
As far as my journals go, I’m glad I went through them. Painful, yes. But buried deep in the midst of all that hurt was a little treasure I would have completely forgotten about otherwise:
|A note Hubs wrote for me while I was at work|
When you buy the book, I'd love to hear what you think. Did it bring up any gut-thoughts or memories for you? What are your relationships like? And do you keep your little treasures too?