This was at the bottom of a pile in my window sill. Those are the last two roses of last summer. The "Seek your happiness..." stamp fell out of a book that hadn't been opened in over thirty years, at precisely the moment I needed it to.
So, two stories, the first hard to tell, so, I'll just let it wait for another day. The second?
Well, there's a little more to the second story. There's a lot more to it actually... or, well, there could be. You see, I made it up.
Well, why the hell would I do that?
It all started innocently enough. Some folks were talking about strange things to eat on FB the other day. One of the guys from Plaid Dag Blog, a newish blog with a lot of enthusiasm and character, wrote this: "Scrapel. My father used to take a piece of bread, crumble it into a bowl, and mix it with milk, applesauce, and maple syrup and call it poor man's apple pie." I commented "that is the best 30 word story ever told."
And, I couldn't get it out of my mind. I actually made some Scrapel with a butt of a demi-baguette, apple sauce, honey and milk. I added walnuts. It was pretty good, but, I wanted to make it better.
On the original thread I'd goofed around with the idea as a children's book. I said: "New title, "Scrapel Guy." Guy Norton and his dog Dave - Dave Norton - travel through rural Maine gathering ingredients for his "scrapel" from colorful locals including, and not limited to, a talking moose, a fingerless farmer, a hapless bachelor and a innuendo-riddled widow. I think there's a duck, too..."
Well, I left out the duck.
So, that's one reason I did it.
I hadn't written any fiction in a while and I thought it might be fun. I've written a novel and a half and I wanted to revisit that feeling, if that makes any sense.
But, there's a deeper reason I did it. You see, I am trying to figure out where to go next around here. Don't worry, it won't be silly non-sequitur fiction like this, but it may be stories from my past written in a memoir style and that, that, is what I wanted to confront. It is easy and tempting to make up a past, especially when you are older. No one is around to fact check me. There is no way to know if any of this is true. Except for one thing. I'm not doing this for me, or you, I'm doing it for Nick and Zack. Oh, I know, yes, I enjoy an audience right now, and, frankly, writing this was a ton of fun - more fun that writing the truth, perhaps.
So, I want to say this. As I go forward, and back, as I tell my stories and continue to tell theirs, I promise to tell the truth, as best I can. Can I guarantee every fact? I can't. But, I can try.
The sad truth is that anyone writing in this medium can lie. Some have been busted for it and I often find myself doubting the truth of many who write blogs, even folks I know. This is a freewheeling forum, anything goes and I understand that.
I was watching an indie film on PBS, Independent Lens I think the show is called, about a Chinese dissident artist. The filmmaker asked him why he didn't just lie to get some permissions or licenses he needed for a large installation he was working on. "I'm fifty-four years old, buddy, I don't have time for lies."
And neither do I...
Thanks, I kept you too long again. Oh well. Peace to you.