April 26, 2012 § Leave a comment
Coyote kept his voice casual but he was fooling no one.
“What do you mean?” I matched his tone. No point falling into his trap by getting defensive. “I’m keeping up.”
“Keeping up … how, exactly?” He was helping me sort books. I was getting rid of a bookshelf. Spring cleaning. It had to be done. We had Loreena Mckennitt playing in the background to keep our spirits up. « Read the rest of this entry »
April 6, 2012 § 1 Comment
“I’ve been thinking about beginnings,” I said. I had been clearing the garden and had paused to marvel at some radish sprouts that were making a straggly line across one of the beds. Coyote was filling the compost bucket.
“In what sense,” he asked. “Spring? New life? Great Blue Heron eggs?” « Read the rest of this entry »
March 22, 2012 § 2 Comments
I had gotten a little turned around (as my grandmother used to say) and I suspected Coyote had something to do with it. We were making soup from the remains of the vegetable bin and we were each holding a knife. Not that I expected that to have any bearing.
“You’ve told stories for ever so long,” I said, starting in on an onion and hoping a little flattery would catch him off-guard, “so what do you think about The Tourist? Should I keep going with it?”
« Read the rest of this entry »
February 16, 2012 § Leave a comment
“Tell me a story,” I demanded.
‘Demanded’ might be too strong a word because I meant it as a compliment. Coyote tells such good stories and I love losing myself in them. Like the year at Christmas when I heard The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe for the first time and I listened while I was looking deep within the tree and I thought I had actually got into Narnia somehow.
February 9, 2012 § Leave a comment
I come from a storytelling culture. We don’t hold events for children in libraries but we do tend to see amazing things and to want to recount them. Given a chance we will tell every incident in the form of a story. Some people call it rambling and want us to get to the point but we think they need to slow down, smell the roses.
We think nothing, nothing at all, just happens. Everything has Characters and Intrigue. The bottom line has no punch without the journey.
This is just a news bulletin:
“I met a coyote in Wegman’s today.”
To make it a story, to make it interesting, I need context, color, plot.