tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17443097229368987682024-03-18T20:40:54.243-07:00Writing Amid Used BooksChronicling a writer's thoughts and processes as she examines the used books that she finds.Katherine L. Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13149740043743870827noreply@blogger.comBlogger88125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1744309722936898768.post-3976813958577309182024-01-01T13:38:00.000-08:002024-01-01T13:39:16.862-08:00REM Sunshine - my newly released poetry collection<p> </p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #783f04;">My
third book of poetry, </span><u><a href="https://www.amazon.com/REM-Sunshine-Katherine-L-Holmes-ebook/dp/B0CQZ49FT6/ref=sr_1_1?crid=1N7ITON618LXO&keywords=REM+Sunshine&qid=1704047236&s=books&sprefix=rem+sunshine%2Cstripbooks%2C104&sr=1-1" target="_blank"><span style="color: #666666;">REM Sunshine</span></a></u><span style="color: #783f04;">, is now released. Poems in this
collection are reflective while unraveling their subject. They often
explore underlying associations or, in the terms of Carl Jung, the
shadow or archetypal side of perception. Some of the poems were
triggered by sleep dreams and other poems arose from experiences or
observations that seemed as unusual as dream in memory.</span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsyGmFjAKoujBgCttjSmPP_26aHITxcVlqfsosLWK5At7ukfgzJNMxsRrcmAbRv3FG-XJYaFoIUu03oQ5qxP_0BkWRDo7DdpkBU1GVYT_KXfM-azUMzD7zl5c1GaUTgfokr8_WDro5lHNbXQiUwOzxAB_xqIwWOID7dfKmx5_MrGraXuAwuZs7tVX4Gxv8/s2625/REM%20Kindle%20cover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2625" data-original-width="1696" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsyGmFjAKoujBgCttjSmPP_26aHITxcVlqfsosLWK5At7ukfgzJNMxsRrcmAbRv3FG-XJYaFoIUu03oQ5qxP_0BkWRDo7DdpkBU1GVYT_KXfM-azUMzD7zl5c1GaUTgfokr8_WDro5lHNbXQiUwOzxAB_xqIwWOID7dfKmx5_MrGraXuAwuZs7tVX4Gxv8/w206-h320/REM%20Kindle%20cover.jpg" width="206" /></a></div><p></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #7f6000;"><br />
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #783f04;">Dreams
when recalled are like anecdotes; a person wants to understand the
connections and reasons for their being encapsulated. Like the
phenomenon of REM sleep, vivid experiences spring from strong images
and unexpected correlations. Many of the poems in</span> <u><a href="https://www.amazon.com/REM-Sunshine-Katherine-L-Holmes-ebook/dp/B0CQZ49FT6/ref=sr_1_1?crid=1N7ITON618LXO&keywords=REM+Sunshine&qid=1704047236&s=books&sprefix=rem+sunshine%2Cstripbooks%2C104&sr=1-1" target="_blank"><span style="color: #666666;">REM Sunshine</span></a></u><span style="color: #783f04;"> are
anecdotal or narrative. There are poems about startling turns in
relationships, poems about storms, landscapes that surpass, poems
remindful of mythology, and three poems about the shared shine of
television.</span></span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #783f04;">Thirty-three
of the fifty poems in this collection were published in literary
journals. </span><u><a href="https://www.amazon.com/REM-Sunshine-Katherine-L-Holmes-ebook/dp/B0CQZ49FT6/ref=sr_1_1?crid=1N7ITON618LXO&keywords=REM+Sunshine&qid=1704047236&s=books&sprefix=rem+sunshine%2Cstripbooks%2C104&sr=1-1" target="_blank"><span style="color: #666666;">REM Sunshine</span></a></u><span style="color: #783f04;"> is available in paperback and as a Kindle
e-book.</span></span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><h1 align="CENTER" class="western" style="break-before: page; page-break-before: always;"><p align="CENTER" style="break-before: page; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0.25in; page-break-before: always;"><br /></p><p align="CENTER" style="break-before: page; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0.25in; page-break-before: always;">
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</p><br /></h1>Katherine L. Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13149740043743870827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1744309722936898768.post-84673406457616550522022-11-15T07:26:00.001-08:002022-11-15T09:07:12.959-08:00Cues From an Aviary<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #351c75; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNIprgQGzfEh64RmaqZsyGRZIO_GTsNob4_ElxXYQoiqfpfj6VbvK_MVgeSvddDEAbKCeKP4rtMYQ-ke1BAptogxkKLP_Htr0N7EgK_U2fUAcbzC8tsW9HUtZ-3HcmwxTpXx4P3AdvLsQ8KrExf8rnle9c_tFQsAAiADjuRDbAzuMyBJ9ILC03l18YPA/s2625/Cues%20Kindle.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2625" data-original-width="1684" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNIprgQGzfEh64RmaqZsyGRZIO_GTsNob4_ElxXYQoiqfpfj6VbvK_MVgeSvddDEAbKCeKP4rtMYQ-ke1BAptogxkKLP_Htr0N7EgK_U2fUAcbzC8tsW9HUtZ-3HcmwxTpXx4P3AdvLsQ8KrExf8rnle9c_tFQsAAiADjuRDbAzuMyBJ9ILC03l18YPA/s320/Cues%20Kindle.jpg" width="205" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="color: #134f5c;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #134f5c;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">One
year, I noticed how many allusions to birds were in some of my poems
so I gathered them and continued on that theme to complete a book.
That book, </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Cues-Aviary-Katherine-L-Holmes/dp/B0BM4Q3L67/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1668453509&sr=1-1" target="_blank"><i>Cues From an Aviary</i></a><u>,</u></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">
is now published. I've been an avid walker and hiker and also, was a
window birdwatcher. That is why the first section of the book is
called “Cues.” </span>
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="color: #134f5c;">Birds
are of such variety in appearance and in habits that for me, they
became a panorama like people. The cues function as metaphors in
poems. My experiences were retained as a collection of birds, an
aviary, and if I saw a bird in a tree, it caught my attention in the
way that a new bloom would in the spring. In other poems, birds were
a theme. The second section of the book “Choreographed” contains
poems that set off people personalities with birds and nature, those
traits that are embedded. The third section “An Aviary” focuses
more on bird life.</span></span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="color: #134f5c;">Since
discovering that I was watching birds more than I realized, I became
more of a birder, combining that with my walking exercise on the many
trails in my vicinity.</span></span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #134f5c;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><u><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Cues-Aviary-Katherine-L-Holmes-ebook/dp/B0BM88R34Y/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1668453509&sr=1-1" target="_blank"><i>Cues From an Aviary</i></a></u></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">
is published in <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Cues-Aviary-Katherine-L-Holmes/dp/B0BM4Q3L67/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1668453509&sr=1-1" target="_blank">paperback</a> and as a <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Cues-Aviary-Katherine-L-Holmes-ebook/dp/B0BM88R34Y/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1668453509&sr=1-1" target="_blank">Kindle book.</a> Thirty-one of the
forty-four poems in the volume have been published in literary
journals such as </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><i>Amarillo
Review, Cider Press Review, Frigg, The Courtship of the Winds, The
Midwest Quarterly, The South Dakota Review.</i></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">
“Wren Real Estate” was nominated by </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><i>The
King's English</i></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">
for a Pushcart.</span></span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #45818e;"><br />
</span></b></p><p><b><span style="color: #45818e;"> </span></b></p>Katherine L. Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13149740043743870827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1744309722936898768.post-10847821370479806042021-12-27T11:10:00.001-08:002021-12-28T12:09:01.860-08:00Poetry collection published: After Much Has Died Down<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgJs_l4esjx5VFDZpuIIeymj_8qVPdUUhEC8Tvd5yNjB_7sDwShxnLSVeVsDQYHSvqMU9BkqLbRsRPnnryIHbj14rsgXQR-Bt0voSlFH5FxAmjHFsc4kGkmrapnq0XqJmOCJTmhKH1prfZbbdHIWtqnakdJxALZYapncDYA8ZJVQs1_gDBnrQBJuzloxw=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1364" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgJs_l4esjx5VFDZpuIIeymj_8qVPdUUhEC8Tvd5yNjB_7sDwShxnLSVeVsDQYHSvqMU9BkqLbRsRPnnryIHbj14rsgXQR-Bt0voSlFH5FxAmjHFsc4kGkmrapnq0XqJmOCJTmhKH1prfZbbdHIWtqnakdJxALZYapncDYA8ZJVQs1_gDBnrQBJuzloxw=w213-h320" width="213" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">My
first collection of poetry, <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/After-Much-Has-Died-Down/dp/B09M55W62N/ref=sr_1_1?crid=11PUSRE3I9HXZ&keywords=After+Much+Has+Died+Down&qid=1640631917&s=books&sprefix=after+much+has+died+down%2Cstripbooks%2C1612&sr=1-1" target="_blank">After Much Has Died Down: Collected Poems in Three Parts,</a></i> is published. The volume contains poems that were in literary magazines,
both print and on the internet, from the 1990's until this last year.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">The title poem in this volume sets the foreground and timeframe
of the other poems - a between time of adult adjustment. The backdrops are
often previous events or relationships. Most of these poems attempt an
immediate realization through imagery and without back pedaling. Besides the
poet experiences, poems include situations of others as a kind of kinship -
friends, fellow employees, neighbors, people at eating places, a composer, and
even a raccoon. The poems take on the journey to tomorrow.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">All but six of the forty-six poems have appeared
in journals, as credited at the front.</span><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">Some of the poems have minor revisions from their original
publication. It was a nostalgic and enjoyable project, preparing the book for
publication. For me, these poems were a colorful diary, remindful of
experiences, their interior atmospheres, and the doings of particular months.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan;"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">The majority of the poems were written in Northern Minnesota,
after a move. I had lived in the Twin Cities area for twelve years. Being near
nature again stunned me at times and inspired poetry that symbolized change,
development, growth, and awareness. I had concentrated on fiction before then.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">These are some of the journals that I was so glad to be published in: <i>ArLiJo, Avatar, Cider Press Review, Ginosko, Hamilton Stone Review, I-70, Minnesota Poetry Calendar, The Reader Weekly, Shadowtrain, The South Dakota Review, Stirring</i>, and <i>The Straddler.</i></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">The paperback and Kindle of <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/After-Much-Has-Died-Down/dp/B09M55W62N/ref=sr_1_1?crid=11PUSRE3I9HXZ&keywords=After+Much+Has+Died+Down&qid=1640631917&s=books&sprefix=after+much+has+died+down%2Cstripbooks%2C1612&sr=1-1" target="_blank">After Much Has Died Down: Collected Poetry in Three Parts</a></i> are available at Amazon and other outlets.</span></span></p><span style="color: #0f1111; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"></span><p></p>Katherine L. Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13149740043743870827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1744309722936898768.post-1140434188312999102020-11-25T07:52:00.004-08:002022-01-19T13:58:17.207-08:00Off the Bourgeois Track and Other Stories About Women Gone to Work<p><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;">My second short story collection is now released! <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Bourgeois-Track-Other-Stories-About/dp/B08NNPCD31/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1605979331&sr=8-1">Off the Bourgeois Track and Other Stories About Women Gone to Work</a> contains twelve stories and two short shorts. Six of the stories were
previously published in magazines or journals. This collection is available in both <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Bourgeois-Track-Other-Stories-About/dp/B08NNPCD31/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1605979331&sr=8-1">paperback</a> and <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Bourgeois-Track-Other-Stories-About-ebook/dp/B08NXQLQN9/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=Off+the+Bourgeois+Track&qid=1605979331&sr=8-1">ebook.</a> Here is the summary:</span></span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;">In
this collection, happenstance brings out women characters and how
they juggle jobs, living issues, and men. The fourteen short stories
aren't so much about fortune as about the </span><span style="font-size: large;">unprecedented
and sometimes humorous hours during which a woman must act on her
own. The women are in the adventure of a transitional time.
Characters include college graduates in entry level jobs, a student
of Scandinavian languages, a puppeteer in a temporary job, a clothing
salesclerk, a professor in summer seclusion, and a piccolo player.</span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #4c1130;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgDKdhW3HYILhya-k62_Pw5iToGbY90jWeSqHhORmTOy_BmGC7GiiLXAcp2rMj1MHXVeccYRrnfnAzKvazeAlQiNtdk_Y73qr5_HMfrCXqMEva5DEaQmyoQ5qTLhJoa7IUaOiFSnf8p_13/s640/6X9+Bourgeois+Final+Cover+2+640+px.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="421" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgDKdhW3HYILhya-k62_Pw5iToGbY90jWeSqHhORmTOy_BmGC7GiiLXAcp2rMj1MHXVeccYRrnfnAzKvazeAlQiNtdk_Y73qr5_HMfrCXqMEva5DEaQmyoQ5qTLhJoa7IUaOiFSnf8p_13/w263-h400/6X9+Bourgeois+Final+Cover+2+640+px.jpg" width="263" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><p style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Georgia, serif; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: georgia;">Most
of these stories take place in the Midwest. In the writing, development often approached a final dilemma, allowing
the reader to think on it. I've like an open end. Here are a few
short excerpts about characters or their perplexed moments in stories
following the samples at Amazon and other sites.</span></span><p></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: georgia;">In "Fondue", a college student escapes to resort work where the chef is ferocious.</span></span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>After
two platters collided outside the swinging doors and a pair of
lederhosen appeared to be clawed with Spanish salsa, the hostess
called me into the office. Contact with Clement had to be established
again. </i></span></span></span></p></div></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>I'm not sure how it happened, business being a sort of beast to me then, but one day I was stating Clement's complaint as unsparingly as a doctor - that the resort was "as always wrong as the American customer, making mockery and money." The next day I was their sacrifice, fawn footing it through the forest for chocolate torte at Clement's chalet.</i></span></span></span></p></div></blockquote><p> <span style="color: #783f04; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">From "Assumptions: A Silent Story."</span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Mona
thought she was converting one of the last accounts of a woman’s
physical injury into a paragraph without sentence complications when
Norman, instead of calling her before lunch, called her supervisor.
She hurries through the passageways of the legal research agency, a
cavern to her. Today she is also dodging Norman’s clashes in court,
fuzzy fragments of light that are supposed to expose villain, victim,
hero. The old-fashioned radiators shimmer and the elevator lights
blink as Mona wonders about the assumptions in courtrooms.</i></span></span></div></blockquote>
<p style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: georgia;">Three
women share a duplex during their first city jobs in "Something Missing."</span></span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"> <span style="color: #073763; font-family: georgia;">“</span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><i>Did you pick someone up?" Rena questioned, seriously leery now. </i></span></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Paulette explained about the bus and the St. Anthony Park directions. Usually she was the one who listened. Rena had a biography of boyfriends from Milwaukee and Chicago where she attended her first two years of college.</i></span></span></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>"</i></span></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><i>You’re
going out with him?” Pony was incredulous. She was from a town that
was short on introduction because everybody knew everybody.</i></span></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"> <span style="color: #073763; font-family: georgia;">“</span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><i>I
thought he could come over here,” Paulette said. “Especially if
he rents that house. He probably comes from a well-off family in
Costa Rica.”</i></span></p></blockquote>
<p style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: georgia;">A college professor alone at her lake cabin in "The Recluse and the Raccoon":</span></span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><i>While
this last year, they were probably speculating about her. Her
marriage was not so solid a statement as it had been. A miasma seemed
to have seeped into class, a mood that wasn’t altogether hers. It
was the problem of being unlovable, a fear that haunted students.
Even her son was not reliably faithful anymore, not in the way her
tomcat and her Welsh terrier were.</i></span></p></blockquote>
<p style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: georgia;">Away
from their men, two sisters-in-law commiserate about their plans in "Star-crossed."</span></span></p><p style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>During
marital counseling, Sylvie took the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality
Test. She had gone beyond the normal range on the masculine-feminine
scale. Of course she liked flowers. She had worked at a university
extension office and then at a nursery, she had protested. The
counselor had interpreted, “She will usually keep up a good front.”
And then he explained to Kirby that his wife could be confusing
because of indirect communication.</i></span></span></div></blockquote>
<p style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: georgia;">A
piccolo player's attitude in "The Audition":</span></span></p><p style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Vivian
wanted to elevate the piccolo from its origins in the drum corps.
She had tried to soften its timbre while avoiding the covert rivalry
of female flute players. Sometimes, she could swear that if flutes
were rifles and piccolos pistols, she would have been murdered by
now. Vivian didn’t believe that an enthralling tone could be
maintained by a heartless competitor.</i></span></span></div></blockquote><p> </p>
<p style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;">My
first book of short stories,</span><u><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Curiosity-Killed-Sphinx-Other-Stories/dp/0982955839/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1605979535&sr=8-1"> <span style="font-size: large;">Curiosity Killed the Sphinx and Other Stories</span></a></u><span style="font-size: large;">, won the Prize Americana and was published in 2012 by
Hollywood Books International.</span></span></p><p style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUwDTwpLLtkA9u-oKFBJHzxhU06klDZ9355yI8ToOfhkkCTn5TVRTEYDBZTyLx7vlf3l7a0v0qa9ifKcgs8QFThZ7ApUSUM_yZO3nqqLi1zBDXM21Nxzykw8cRW9cbKJcKF7KbfcgUNYi3/s278/download.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="278" data-original-width="184" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUwDTwpLLtkA9u-oKFBJHzxhU06klDZ9355yI8ToOfhkkCTn5TVRTEYDBZTyLx7vlf3l7a0v0qa9ifKcgs8QFThZ7ApUSUM_yZO3nqqLi1zBDXM21Nxzykw8cRW9cbKJcKF7KbfcgUNYi3/w265-h400/download.jpg" width="265" /></a></div><br /><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p>Katherine L. Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13149740043743870827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1744309722936898768.post-57969566507299655212020-09-14T11:15:00.000-07:002020-09-14T11:15:04.012-07:00Josiah's Apple Orchard is now an audiobook<p>
</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #b45f06;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Promo
codes for The Swan Bonnet are still available, both US and UK.
Message at <a href="https://www.facebook.com/TheSwanBonnet" target="_blank">The Swan Bonnet Facebook page. </a></span></span></span></b></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #b45f06;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></span></span></p><a href="https://www.facebook.com/TheSwanBonnet" target="_blank">
</a><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">During
the lockdown period, I've released another audiobook, <a href="https://www.audible.com/pd/B08DV85S7K/?source_code=AUDFPWS0223189MWT-BK-ACX0-207585&ref=acx_bty_BK_ACX0_207585_rh_us" target="_blank">Josiah's Apple
Orchard,</a> narrated by Lyndsay Paulina. I enjoyed working on this
middle grade book again while it was a bit comforting during the
lockdown. The apple-picking in the book is at the orchard of an old
man who is isolated and under a stress that his visitors don't
realize. The book is loosely based on childhood experiences. It also
covers a year of national shock, John F. Kennedy's assassination.
From the perspectives of young people, the book made a parallel with
2020. There is also the fascination and relief of music for the main
character, Vivvy. Josiah's Apple Orchard is available at <a href="https://www.audible.com/pd/Josiahs-Apple-Orchard-Audiobook/B08DV85S7K?qid=1599940731&sr=1-1&ref=a_search_c3_lProduct_1_1&pf_rd_p=e81b7c27-6880-467a-b5a7-13cef5d729fe&pf_rd_r=ANWCT1JGQBD60W8DC0RD" target="_blank">Audible</a>, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Josiahs-Apple-Orchard/dp/B08DV6XDF8/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=Josiah%27s+Apple+Orchard&qid=1599940806&sr=8-1" target="_blank">Amazon</a>, and iTunes.<br /></span></span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span><span style="color: #b45f06;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT1qy7OiEWzjvnJevZNFsVgAGuGfJIvcj7W_tPDJzyBru8wiQwxTLfmwfkR8yxkCyAhUHrb5JFGjbEWwIr9f1yFne49dEMUn4pNQPb0F9SsdDT9ZcwljZq4eB90SLrX6w5etZGTBm3WbFC/s500/Josiah+audio+book+cover+final+500+px.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT1qy7OiEWzjvnJevZNFsVgAGuGfJIvcj7W_tPDJzyBru8wiQwxTLfmwfkR8yxkCyAhUHrb5JFGjbEWwIr9f1yFne49dEMUn4pNQPb0F9SsdDT9ZcwljZq4eB90SLrX6w5etZGTBm3WbFC/s320/Josiah+audio+book+cover+final+500+px.jpg" /></a></span></div><p></p><span style="color: #741b47;">
</span><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #741b47;"></span>
</p><span style="color: #741b47;">
</span><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Lyndsay
Paulina, the narrator, captures the middle grade atmosphere. I</span></span></span><span style="color: #b45f06;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></span></span><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">n the
book, Vivvy and Matt would like some adventure. Her reading has the humor and vitality that children will identify with, yet it adjusts for the
mood levels that develop. <span lang="en"><span style="font-style: normal;">Lyndsay</span></span><span lang="en">
has narration, stage, and musical acting experience besides stage
work with puppetry. She lives in New York City where she is also a
licensed tour guide. Her website is: lyndsaycrescenti.com</span></span></span></span></p><span style="color: #741b47;">
</span><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #741b47;"></span>
</p><span style="color: #741b47;">
</span><p lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Here
is the synopsis for <a href="https://www.audible.com/pd/B08DV85S7K/?source_code=AUDFPWS0223189MWT-BK-ACX0-207585&ref=acx_bty_BK_ACX0_207585_rh_us" target="_blank">Josiah's Apple Orchard:</a></span></span></span></p><span style="color: #741b47;">
</span><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #741b47;"></span>
</p><span style="color: #741b47;">
</span><p lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #38761d;">Besides
music, Vivvy loves green apples. She and her brother Matt go on
morning apple raids until, one fall, their father drives them to a
pick-your-own orchard. There, the cross old Josiah inhabits another
time where pixies might appear like uprooted saplings. During the
early, eventful 1960s, Vivvy takes the flute from Mr. Fortray, a band
teacher who plays jazz. Another apple picking trip is confused with
detours and Josiah is angry about progress. Vivvy finds that if she
wants to do what she loves, she must think beyond a fear that her
father and Josiah share.</span> </span></span></span>
</p><span style="color: #b45f06;">
</span><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #741b47;"></span>
</p><span style="color: #741b47;">
</span><p lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">"The
story takes young readers on a journey...The surreal feel of the
book is captivating and enthralling. A very original and
refreshing plot that will make readers think." - Readers'
Favorite five-star review.</span></span></span></p><span style="color: #741b47;">
</span><p lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #741b47;"></span>
</p><span style="color: #741b47;">
</span><p lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
weekend setting in this book typifies the organic farm or the vanishing small
farm, what were both so common in the 1960's. It is an introduction
to a specialty farm and the grower's commitment and struggle in
keeping such a farm afloat. </span></span></span>
</p><span style="color: #741b47;">
</span><p lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #741b47;"></span>
</p><span style="color: #741b47;">
</span><p lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Until this year, I've bought apples at a local Farmer's Market where, in recent years, I've vacillated
between Zestar, Pink Lady, Haralson, and Honeycrisp – all
delicious. As still are the Jonathans and Mcintoshes.<br /></span></span></span></p><span style="color: #741b47;">
</span><p lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #741b47;"></span>
</p><span style="color: #741b47;">
</span><p lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">US
and UK promo codes for Josiah's Apple Orchard are available to
reviewers! Message at the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/JosiahsAppleOrchard" target="_blank">Josiah's Apple Orchard Facebook page.</a></span></span></span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
Katherine L. Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13149740043743870827noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1744309722936898768.post-56471188126773061922020-07-09T11:30:00.000-07:002020-07-09T11:30:52.969-07:00The Swan Bonnet is an audiobook<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/The-Swan-Bonnet/dp/B08CG62GHX/ref=tmm_aud_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1594316469&sr=8-1" target="_blank"><u>The Swan Bonnet</u></a> is now available as an audiobook! It is narrated by
Pamela Hershey who specializes in Young Adult, Children's and Mystery
books.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgtV39E2BXjedD5dyhalZ4v6Mvnxa0Y7OnFDi8iF8vWhdysw18yLADxmSjFaYa02zP5Xc-K0FhyphenhyphentASNDTB9eKqJRTBBOCLeGLQ7nh1VP_b86OkDlPdxI0_Unn0EUxkVCSZVQ75HV_d35Hr/s1600/SB+audio+book+cover+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgtV39E2BXjedD5dyhalZ4v6Mvnxa0Y7OnFDi8iF8vWhdysw18yLADxmSjFaYa02zP5Xc-K0FhyphenhyphentASNDTB9eKqJRTBBOCLeGLQ7nh1VP_b86OkDlPdxI0_Unn0EUxkVCSZVQ75HV_d35Hr/s320/SB+audio+book+cover+3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
was very glad to hear Pamela's audition at ACX.com. <u>The Swan Bonnet</u>
entails dialogue from its fourteen year old protagonist, Dawn, other
teenagers in a small Alaskan town, and adults from different
backgrounds. While the narrative voice stood out with consistency and
worked for the region, the dialogue parts rebound well and make for easy listening. </span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #b45f06;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;">She says of this project, “The Swan Bonnet was a great book to narrate.
The main character, Dawn was a very strong young girl and her
experiences were things that any young woman could relate to today.
It was fascinating to learn about those early days of Alaska and the
people who lived there then. The language used throughout the book
made the narration enjoyable as I love language and metaphors.”</span></span></span></span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Pamela
studied acting and Readers' Theater in college and works fulltime now
as an audiobook narrator. She can be found on Facebook at Pamela
Hershey Voice Over or at her website www.<a href="http://voiceoverbypamelahershey.com/" target="_blank">voiceoverbypamelahershey.com</a>
. When she's not narrating, she can be found either with her dog or
her horse or fighting weeds in her garden. </span></span></span>
</div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><u>The
Swan Bonnet</u><span style="text-decoration: none;"> was the
manuscript I chose to present at Authonomy.com, the HarperCollins
site where book writers read the work of others and could contribute
comments or critiques. I wondered how I had fared with my
historical subject. The first ten chapters went to the Editor's Desk where the manuscript received a review from a HarperCollins editor. While I
benefited from suggestions for revision, these are the encouraging
comments from the HarperCollins editor: </span></span></span></span>
</div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #b45f06;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">What
a relaxing, classic, and vibrant story. I loved reading about the
swans and their histories, and seeing how the family interacted with
each other …. I really like where the story is going and I love
the setting – Alaska feels vibrant and alive in your storytelling
hands.”</span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/The-Swan-Bonnet/dp/B08CG62GHX/ref=tmm_aud_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1594316469&sr=8-1" target="_blank"><u>TheSwan Bonnet</u></a> became my second audiobook because of its adventure and
its outdoor, endangered bird theme. I thought of it as a contemporary
Western where the white hat was worn by a woman. </span></span></span></span>
</div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">Here
is the synopsis:</span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #b45f06;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="text-decoration: none;">Unbeknown
to Dawn, her grandfather has shot an old swan out of mercy. In their
coastal Alaskan town, her father buys the swan pelt, preventing her
Uncle Alex, a fur trader, from selling it for export. Dawn’s father
surprises her part-Aleut mother with a hat she helped to make and
also with an idea to catch poachers. Shooting swans has become
illegal but Alaska is a territory and Prohibition occupies the
Sheriff. <br /><br />Dawn and her mother become involved with suspicious
inquiries about the swan bonnet besides its haunting effect. Because
Dawn’s grandparents see the swans first, Dawn agrees to secretly
watch the migration with the deputy sheriff’s son. But after she
and her mother encounter women from a ship and find out about a
hunting party, they ride to the inlet. There are townspeople roving
the shore too but who is the vigilante and who is the poacher? </span></i></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLAiEv4k3OuMnHsD7-kD1up9gNIFKGimPCddRnNnwO_aCPy2VFKWaOOkh4XOoogIDpDkKxErjDLhuyK0Vg6305ERLQtWThgSLAAjnRnJzguqqeScX_HtJiX0pXRkNm_EXOeqcJViL_Xmub/s1600/300+color.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1175" data-original-width="978" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLAiEv4k3OuMnHsD7-kD1up9gNIFKGimPCddRnNnwO_aCPy2VFKWaOOkh4XOoogIDpDkKxErjDLhuyK0Vg6305ERLQtWThgSLAAjnRnJzguqqeScX_HtJiX0pXRkNm_EXOeqcJViL_Xmub/s200/300+color.jpg" width="166" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span></span></i></span></span>
</div>
Katherine L. Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13149740043743870827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1744309722936898768.post-60665416964856580762019-12-20T07:27:00.000-08:002019-12-20T07:27:37.129-08:00Emerging in Poetry <div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
had a pleasant surprise – the editors and staff of <a href="http://penandanvil.com/hw/" target="_blank">Hawk andWhippoorwill</a> poetry journal have nominated my poem “How a vine
staves off eviction” for a Pushcart. The poem was in their Summer
2019 issue. Hawk & Whippoorwill, published in Boston at summer
and winter solstices, focuses on the relationships between nature and
humankind. </span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://penandanvil.com/hw/homepages/homepage-2019-dec-jenna-bos.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="513" data-original-width="684" height="240" src="https://penandanvil.com/hw/homepages/homepage-2019-dec-jenna-bos.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Many
of my poems were written with the idea to reflect human life through
the natural world. Besides vacationing in the Northern Woods as a
child, I used to go on fishing and apple picking excursions with my
father to southern Wisconsin. My dad expressed what many say, that
he felt his religion when he was in nature. He also liked the computer
and kept up weekly email contact after I got on the internet and had
poetry published there. I was surprised, during his last year, when
he wrote wondering if I had a new poem for him to read there.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">How
could religion not be a point to ponder? Having a fascination for the
first and last books of the Bible, I concluded in the 1990's that
environmentalists were doing God's first mandate. They were taking
care of the garden while too many were living outside of it. I tried
to write poems as if they might express a theology but of course that
failed. Poetry is an art form and, I felt, true when it is concrete
and in perspective. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #783f04;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I wished I'd photographed the yard tree hosting a vine that grew into the form of a man standing on an upper branch. However that happened, the sight inspired a poem as it might have inspired visual art.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVzCjC-mIo9dcBg5HaoerrEzeujD7kVadl3vQonSZOG681NXHdFXZ_yg08QVw3HRCAKI0CE5r8dMQygSqXw_98K_lGsAE_IQxpjxaexkDLnNyINlNqc4gQfl_SeyXG2tITWwHYHv0Lsr99/s1600/Jolee+G+Crop+fisheye+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="305" data-original-width="326" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVzCjC-mIo9dcBg5HaoerrEzeujD7kVadl3vQonSZOG681NXHdFXZ_yg08QVw3HRCAKI0CE5r8dMQygSqXw_98K_lGsAE_IQxpjxaexkDLnNyINlNqc4gQfl_SeyXG2tITWwHYHv0Lsr99/s320/Jolee+G+Crop+fisheye+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image by Jolee G @ FreeDigitalPhotos.net</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="color: #783f04;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
don't often refer to myself as a poet though I've had many poems
published. I liked poetry and early, made a little book called “My
Favorite Poems.” My own poem inclusion disappointed. I remember
going to my fifth grade teacher in despair because I blocked on a
poem. She suggested that I start with a different subject. So I wrote
a narrative science fiction poem, finding that her suggestion worked.
I was comfortable with stories in prose.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And
I was to become more taken up with flute playing so that I had to
consider a performance career. Many years later, I opened a drawer of
paper documents, bank and such, but also a cache of poetry I sent as
application to the University of Minnesota writing program. I'd read
much more contemporary poetry and finally re-read what I never
submitted for publication. I thought, oh, even though this stuff was
inspired by Tess Gallagher, it is something different in rhythm and
resonance. It was written by a flute player. I felt I entered poetry
after leaving the daily practice of music.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Poetry
became a cryptic diary for me. It captured the year, the atmosphere, the
ideas in my head, the relationships I had. Sometimes it reminded me
of the books I read. I was always afraid of too much
influence from a well-known author. The cure for that, I'd thought,
was to read many. Even then, I was influenced by Denise Levertov,
Mary Oliver, Louise Bogan, Nancy Willard, W. S. Merwin, and Dylan
Thomas, poets that come immediately to mind.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">After
writing in other creative genres, I felt poetry was the most honest. It's been a
lulling late afternoon break for me, poet or person writing poetry.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuldgmloZlV0znWpSqMSzpWi4tzQbarvZIutD836uKiEDuQJ3QFA4_bkopRC3PY7-ZC3wLShT2T6r1DnFyqq0i7jcGaa5wrbozfmR1rCyqhxvXuBOZ6VP7doBu_fANYKj6bMIjCpvflW9p/s1600/wide+woods.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="504" height="142" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuldgmloZlV0znWpSqMSzpWi4tzQbarvZIutD836uKiEDuQJ3QFA4_bkopRC3PY7-ZC3wLShT2T6r1DnFyqq0i7jcGaa5wrbozfmR1rCyqhxvXuBOZ6VP7doBu_fANYKj6bMIjCpvflW9p/s200/wide+woods.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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Katherine L. Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13149740043743870827noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1744309722936898768.post-68888340491122155092019-09-17T06:31:00.001-07:002022-09-15T08:01:09.369-07:00Found I liked less driving in my future<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">At
a bus stop on a Saturday morning:</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;">“<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Do
you know if the bus is coming?” A woman sitting in the newly
installed shelter, what actually imitated wrought iron decoration.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;">“<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Let's
see, it's 8:31,” I said. “A few minutes.”</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;">“<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
didn't know if it would show up. I usually take the bus on weekdays.”</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;">“<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Oh,
it's coming. Maybe on time instead of five minutes late. Less riders
on the weekends.”</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;">“<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Well,
it's really much simpler.” She showed me her pass like an
advertisement. “My car was in for repair and because I need to go
across town, it's much easier.”</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In
a city of 100,000, most people don't rely on buses. But near Lake
Superior, above which are steep hills and in the winter, snow and
ice, I was surprised that there isn't more bus use. </span></span></span>
</div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
ride the bus because of an eyesight issue. My sight problem is not
usual; I had an eye muscle operation as a child that isn't done
anymore. Like a character in a short story I wrote, I barely passed
the driving test, getting 71 twice. In grade school, I dreaded the
art teacher but later could do well enough in photography because my
eyesight tends towards the two-dimensional. That made it fearsome to
drive on many laned highways. In fact I could drive anywhere in
Minneapolis and St. Paul without taking a freeway. I don't think
eyeglasses helped because of the muscle limitation.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHsFLlgc0q_50KiJ1Hrf6U4CbYhAS8vNJzQ9i-UsInzUpNed4PbQvVAbiEjdmTXAavuH7Sxic1-XDvFEENTpZulbZKwk7u8CnIY9zz2M3j4H1JHAAojjNZdw8_-srxsN4tp-qu_ongF2aY/s1600/Ben+Schonewille+4.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="266" data-original-width="400" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHsFLlgc0q_50KiJ1Hrf6U4CbYhAS8vNJzQ9i-UsInzUpNed4PbQvVAbiEjdmTXAavuH7Sxic1-XDvFEENTpZulbZKwk7u8CnIY9zz2M3j4H1JHAAojjNZdw8_-srxsN4tp-qu_ongF2aY/s320/Ben+Schonewille+4.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image by Ben Schonewille @ FreeDigitalPhotos.net</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
refrained from repairing an old car before I moved from the metro
area. It was really because, with express buses in Minneapolis, I
found public transportation more relaxing and a better prelude to a
workday. Riding home was good for reflection. Reading on the bus,
then using a tablet and next, a smart phone made that time useful. </span></span></span>
</div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
was the first of my peers to get involved with a car. In high school,
I drove our Volkswagon two hours on Saturdays to Minneapolis for
flute lessons, taking 35 W, a flat, straight trip. A week after I
graduated from college, I bought a car. </span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"></span>
</div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">While
at my first job in Minneapolis, I began using public transportation.
At 7:00 in the morning, I didn't feel like driving some days. It
became the best alternative, I decided a few years later while
trawling for a parking place near the University of Minnesota. There
were other benefits. In the winter, I didn't have to warm up a car
or sit on a freezing car seat. A few minutes waiting at a bus stop
seemed less jolting. Especially if the bus was a good route. </span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpo-1XQ9UN19gVLFNXnlqZSjM7uaoUTWVL_qLulnqhfmynNsO-ck-u9zckF8VCEgH4-6FkJbSiZSaS4FAXlePvgByGZDI5JaFcnzWkIorMQq72GpAx19Lek5dSbHwwFgV_BwVWwZF7hWWX/s1600/Sicha+Pongjivanich+3.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="596" data-original-width="596" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpo-1XQ9UN19gVLFNXnlqZSjM7uaoUTWVL_qLulnqhfmynNsO-ck-u9zckF8VCEgH4-6FkJbSiZSaS4FAXlePvgByGZDI5JaFcnzWkIorMQq72GpAx19Lek5dSbHwwFgV_BwVWwZF7hWWX/s320/Sicha+Pongjivanich+3.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image by Sicha Pongjivanich @ FreeDigitalPhotos.net</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">What
I finally disliked was the dependence on a car. With less car repair,
I noticed the general dependence and the constant issue of parking.
Walking was my main exercise so I didn't mind walking to a bus stop.
I knew there weren't many people on my sidewalks at the time, so not
many who could identify, which made those thoughts fuel for fiction.
Two of my short stories in the collection <u>Curiosity Killed the
Sphinx</u> dealt with car issues.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAUUTa74yF01eowhK3mwgRdKEsI0CxYCWQ7Yj0QFYLE2RBPbQ7WaRVRSuZtdKx25mYPG4PQR3hKAQ2JFTNCCPFEth1tpAr2cOeJMZRbQs3Ct1lNfxfnlblcrGjOo0cWEawSjKSNOP60_e7/s1600/Ben+Schonewille+%25282%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="266" data-original-width="400" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAUUTa74yF01eowhK3mwgRdKEsI0CxYCWQ7Yj0QFYLE2RBPbQ7WaRVRSuZtdKx25mYPG4PQR3hKAQ2JFTNCCPFEth1tpAr2cOeJMZRbQs3Ct1lNfxfnlblcrGjOo0cWEawSjKSNOP60_e7/s320/Ben+Schonewille+%25282%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image by Ben Schonewille @ FreeDigitalPhotos.net</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"></span></div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
realized that others might, if they stopped driving some of the time,
enjoy riding. The setback is that our public transportation isn't
often suited to a pleasant trip. If in places like the Midwest, there
were more of a demand for public transportation, it might become more
comfortable, especially for commuters. This year, a few electric
buses have been introduced up here and apart from their being the
newest, they are no different for the rider.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="color: #783f04;">
</span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #783f04;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">After
the successful campaign against cigarette smoking, and with the
statistic from the Minnesota Pollution Control Agency - 52 percent
of outdoor air pollution in Minnesota comes from vehicles such as
cars and trucks - a similar campaign could be launched. Yet I
believe that if people tried using their cars less, some might prefer
the change. Car-pooling is usually less dangerous than driving alone.
If many made the switch, it would lessen the climate issue in the
atmosphere. </span></span></span>
</div>
Katherine L. Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13149740043743870827noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1744309722936898768.post-21373661709424948622019-06-02T07:38:00.000-07:002019-06-15T11:00:06.625-07:00Influences of the Farm Crisis and Its Recovery<div style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in;">
</div>
<span style="color: #274e13;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in;">
<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Like
many mid-westerners, I visited a farmer relative as a
child. The farm was about ten miles from our small city and the
relative was Norwegian, not a bachelor. One never forgets the barn,
the tree swing with long ropes, the roomy breezy house, and the fields spread around. </span></span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4IQoHOKCe4wLaGgjMO0EXr1pkX9wZnXTarDl7vUT7xRTmkv2yH072Y0b9Z40bIfol7p2cCy0IZdNwU1sJf69C4JWh7nILlckfxJRZKC2Bp-zY7ft4EuJc5Afh0rjaJF8hLtF0milchl64/s1600/142.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1158" data-original-width="1600" height="287" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4IQoHOKCe4wLaGgjMO0EXr1pkX9wZnXTarDl7vUT7xRTmkv2yH072Y0b9Z40bIfol7p2cCy0IZdNwU1sJf69C4JWh7nILlckfxJRZKC2Bp-zY7ft4EuJc5Afh0rjaJF8hLtF0milchl64/s400/142.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An early 1900's photo of the farmhouse I visited</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in;">
<br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Our
relative and his wife used to visit us in town, and there, they were
obviously relaxing on the couch, observing us on their day off. Then,
there was joking about farmers coming in, their stalwart, contracted
speech, and their clothing styles. Some drove in on tractors, slowing
traffic. Yet everyone loved visiting the farm. People drove to
outdoor markets and to dairies for eggs and butter because the
quality and prices were better.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #274e13;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in;">
<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We
went to college, to the city, and heard in the 1980's how the farms
were foreclosing. About that time, I learned with sadness that my elderly cousin sold his farm. I'd frequented my first food co-op near
the “farm” campus of the University of Minnesota, in St. Paul.
After that, I found the closest co-op in other neighborhoods. They
were like corner stores when the corner stores were closing. Farmers
markets in downtown Minneapolis were festive. But things were
changing.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #274e13;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in;">
<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
farming losses had an effect on me. My children's novel, <u>Josiah's
Apple Orchard,</u> was revised from a fantasy into a realistic story.
(I liked one reviewer saying that it had a “surrealistic feel.”)
At the time, I couldn't see the answer to an orchard of specialty
apples when in the 1960's, Delicious apples reigned at the
supermarket. The foreclosures, though, were fueling an environmental
movement that I would be watching. It would have dramatic success. </span></span></span>
</div>
<span style="color: #274e13;">
</span>
<br />
<div lang="en" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in;">
<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">While
I wrote <u>Tug of the Wishbone</u> two decades later, foods free from
pesticides and unnatural treatment of animals expanded from farmers'
markets and co-ops into the supermarkets. A supermarket began with a
corner in the produce section marked “Organic.” The section
widened and new organic brands began to fill the aisles. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht9wrzEGdKFVQfu8YrSeZws3c_JbqCi7meQs2DNzPQ-97UkgeGNeDiP0cjw9YNhakWfXeEG_dkUmtdDsLV-uCJWOYC0DRq8b4PbWVXhJQMpWeSMT5BUH2jbJiy3_21DU4sCXV7L9T0NIrH/s1600/tawatchai2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="266" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht9wrzEGdKFVQfu8YrSeZws3c_JbqCi7meQs2DNzPQ-97UkgeGNeDiP0cjw9YNhakWfXeEG_dkUmtdDsLV-uCJWOYC0DRq8b4PbWVXhJQMpWeSMT5BUH2jbJiy3_21DU4sCXV7L9T0NIrH/s320/tawatchai2.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image by tawatchai @ FreeDigitalPhotos.net</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Mainstream
shoppers are now given choice as information reaches them. In the
1990's, the conditions of corporate farms were suppressed. Driving in
the countryside, one had to wonder at the animal warehouses appearing
while facts about the lack of pasture time leaked out. Humane
farming costs more, especially for the farmer, but the demand for it
has resulted in a quiet revolution. Mealtimes now retain traditional
organic farm foods and are also transformed with new menus. Just as
products are advertised in a graded system of their own, the grading
of farming methods and animal treatment streams into consumer
awareness.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwF5SFvW7ZFoBQu9L4J1gtyIexR0H1BdUwj2kQf3A_z7XH7oYAyK5sOAW6NHAgSQ_sFTmzvXc5m0toDto6Uduq1O_nMa5dUZnu_vlGWdQ7Zpoj7_i8ubsKNMEdWZwoDD9uEKBJj2hpTe7a/s1600/Simon+Howden.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="266" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwF5SFvW7ZFoBQu9L4J1gtyIexR0H1BdUwj2kQf3A_z7XH7oYAyK5sOAW6NHAgSQ_sFTmzvXc5m0toDto6Uduq1O_nMa5dUZnu_vlGWdQ7Zpoj7_i8ubsKNMEdWZwoDD9uEKBJj2hpTe7a/s320/Simon+Howden.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image by Simon Howden @ FreeDigitalPhotos.net</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">When
some news seems to stultify, this seemingly grassroots movement had
swept the nation. Even today with the challenges of flooding and
tariffs, it shows how courage and persistence can result in a
successful environmental story. Writing in the midst of that inspired
my fiction and poetry.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #274e13;">
</span>
<br />
<div lang="en" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in;">
<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Looking
for used books for my eBay store, I know that readers still visit the
farm in novels as I did with favorite authors - Thomas Hardy (<u>Far
From the Madding Crowd</u>), D. H. Lawrence (<u>The Rainbow</u>),
Stella Gibbons (<u>Cold Comfort Farm</u>), Willa Cather's novels,
Katherine Anne Porter's short stories about Texas, Jane Smiley's <u>A
Thousand Acres</u>, to name a few. Collectible editions of books with
farm settings catch my eye and they don't stay long on my used book
shelves. It's another warning that farmers and their stories
shouldn't be taken for granted.</span></span></span></div>
Katherine L. Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13149740043743870827noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1744309722936898768.post-78153912981688215552019-03-06T09:23:00.000-08:002019-03-06T12:33:25.713-08:00Land Found by the Self-taught and Audiobook Island<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><br /></b>
</div>
<b>
</b>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">There
are taught and self-taught methods for learning, depending on a
person's desire to explore. Sometimes I imagine being brought up with
the internet. Exploring. Rather than a library of books, there are
myriads. As a child, I went from authors to genres in my search, fairytale, animal novels, magic, and finally mystery. Few juvenile
books are made into movies. I'm sure audiobooks would attract a
younger me like islands viewed from land.</span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<b><span style="color: #741b47;">
</span></b>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">So
I released my first audiobook, <a href="https://www.audible.com/pd/B07LG5NHJL/?source_code=AUDFPWS0223189MWT-BK-ACX0-137253&ref=acx_bty_BK_ACX0_137253_rh_us" target="_blank">TheWide Awake Loons, narrated by Aven Shore.</a><i> </i>Promo codes for the free book can be
requested at <a href="https://www.facebook.com/WideAwakeLoons/" target="_blank">Message on its Facebook page.</a></span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmxsVCUd_A9M_0NeQq1Pp5CRA-H8wA19rRljdWvxsULEvuwIPfUVR9LT159tAUc59q9_RO2zJS1AvKj7iXWG_723nvj_U5WZNbgz5cYUtwL30KVo358f8Y0QBOQqFWJnp1zeuhRVWlziuY/s1600/Audio+Book+NEW+COVER+white+txt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1599" data-original-width="1600" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmxsVCUd_A9M_0NeQq1Pp5CRA-H8wA19rRljdWvxsULEvuwIPfUVR9LT159tAUc59q9_RO2zJS1AvKj7iXWG_723nvj_U5WZNbgz5cYUtwL30KVo358f8Y0QBOQqFWJnp1zeuhRVWlziuY/s320/Audio+Book+NEW+COVER+white+txt.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">One
thing I learned from memorizing <u>Peter Rabbit</u> so that I could
point at each word was that my four older siblings and my parents
weren't all that interested in picture books. The advice for
relationships is to find joint interests. Pictures with headlines
came daily in the newspaper and weekly in <i>Look</i>, <i>Life</i>,
and <i>Time</i> magazines. Sitting next to someone on the couch, I
picked up words like <i>flood</i>, <i>ice cream</i>, or <i>win</i>
and <i>won</i> accompanying pictures of local basketball stars. </span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span>
</span></b></div>
<b><span style="color: #741b47;">
</span></b>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Drawn
on as a reader, I was eventually forbidden to use my allowance money
on comic books, <i>Superman</i> and <i>Archie</i> bought at the
Piggly Wiggly supermarket. No more tilting graphics. What if there
had been audiobooks to give a children's novel more sensation?
Reading and watching movies don't go together. Reading along with an
audiobook would feel like a shared experience and give a sense of
involvement.</span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<b><span style="color: #741b47;">
</span></b>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A
reading specialist explained findings in a Scholastic article “Why
Audiobooks Are Great for Kids”:</span></span></span></b></div>
<b><span style="color: #741b47;">
</span></b>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #741b47;">“<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She’ll
be able to delve deeper into complicated topics and listen to
better-quality books than she might find at her own level. That
exposure strengthens comprehension skills, particularly for
children who have reading difficulties, says [Mary Beth] Crosby
Carroll [reading specialist].”</span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<b><span style="color: #741b47;">
</span></b>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Here
are statistics from a <i>The Booklist Reader</i> article, “New
Research Shows Audiobooks Have Powerful Impact on Literacy
Development”:</span></span></span></b></div>
<b><span style="color: #741b47;">
</span></b>
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in;">
<b><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Listening
to audiobooks:<br />• Increases reading accuracy by 52%<br />•
Improves comprehension by 76%<br />• Increases recall 40% when
combined with print materials (vs. print alone) </span></span></span></b>
</div>
<b><span style="color: #741b47;">
</span></b>
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in;">
<b><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
first audiobook I heard was in a set of Tolkien, found at a book
sale. That was wonderful since I read all of his fantasy series. And
I actually preferred the audiobooks to some of the movie material. </span></span></span></b>
</div>
<b><span style="color: #741b47;">
</span></b>
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in;">
<b><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Ever
since the VHS movies became available, I have found
that I can switch from books to another medium as easily as anyone.
I've realized that story is all for me. However I continue as a used
book dealer to explore and buy books that are new to me, even when
they are decades old. </span></span></span></b>
</div>
<b><span style="color: #741b47;">
</span></b>
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in;">
<b><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Audio
is sometimes silent hearing so it is a part of reading. I hadn't
expected to read the ancient historian Herodotus until I was savoring
a voice with the rare quality of Socrates in <u>Plato's Republic.</u> Then I wanted to find out
how Herodotus achieved his travels north to Thrace, east to Persia, and south down the Nile
in a dangerous time. At Google Books I found an “imaginary
biography”, written in the 1850's. I hadn't planned to read much
of that either but once I got started with the author James Talboys
Wheeler, I couldn't put it down. Scenes with dialogue and description
enhanced the ancient world. That happens when exploring. Subject is land where, if a person disembarks, they might stay awhile. How much
better to experience it in more than one dimension.</span></span></span></b></div>
<b><span style="color: #741b47;">
</span></b>
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in;">
<b><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">My
new cat Irene, a Maine coon mix, was a rescue from the North Woods resort region. This winter she is ten months and responding to
“Wild Sounds of the Northwoods” by Lang Elliott and Ted Mack. As
if this tape was made to be a cat audiobook. Cats are among the
greatest of animal explorers!</span></span></span></b></div>
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Katherine L. Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13149740043743870827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1744309722936898768.post-46583754788230872962018-12-22T11:55:00.000-08:002019-01-08T09:08:58.193-08:00The Wide Awake Loons is now an Audio Book<div class="western" lang="en" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in;">
<span style="color: #993366;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><u>The
Wide Awake Loons</u> is now an audio book at <a href="https://www.amazon.com/The-Wide-Awake-Loons/dp/B07LGG2K6K/ref=sr_1_1_twi_audd_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1545486687&sr=8-1&keywords=The+Wide+Awake+Loons" target="_blank">Amazon</a>, Audible, and iTunes. </b></span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" lang="en" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in;">
<span style="color: #993366;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Promo codes are available for the free book at Audible. To obtain one, go to the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/WideAwakeLoons/" target="_blank">Wide Awake Loons Facebook page</a>, please like it, and press the Send Message button. There you can ask for the promo code. </b></span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" lang="en" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in;">
<span style="color: #993366;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Here is a <a href="https://www.audible.com/pd/B07LG5NHJL/?source_code=AUDFPWS0223189MWT-BK-ACX0-137253&ref=acx_bty_BK_ACX0_137253_rh_us" target="_blank">handy link</a> that takes you to the book and a sample of it at Audible.</b></span></span></span><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="western" lang="en" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLZ7kOCdGRChVZe8diG5vBnT4VI6CsmvR8GW3q6MrZA68cs9QVegG5Lx7nAqnOZTKx2JnlgzSnYULeTsFA-TxvuUrLwKDPX-yoW_3QaaNxwdce13DP_w9jrkhVcPPgqMT92efWdLAN3VWn/s1600/Audio+Book+NEW+COVER+white+txt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1599" data-original-width="1600" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLZ7kOCdGRChVZe8diG5vBnT4VI6CsmvR8GW3q6MrZA68cs9QVegG5Lx7nAqnOZTKx2JnlgzSnYULeTsFA-TxvuUrLwKDPX-yoW_3QaaNxwdce13DP_w9jrkhVcPPgqMT92efWdLAN3VWn/s320/Audio+Book+NEW+COVER+white+txt.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="western" lang="en" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in;">
<span style="color: #993366;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b> </b></span></span></span>
</div>
<div class="western" lang="en" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in;">
<span style="color: #993366;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>I
had to wonder why I chose <span style="font-style: normal;"><u>The
Wide Awake Loons</u></span> as my first audio book. It was a favorite
book to write but it did have an unusual spectrum of voices. At ACX
where books can be turned into audiobooks, I was surprised to receive
more auditions the first week than expected. It was hard to choose
between them.</b></span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" lang="en" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in;">
<span style="color: #993366;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>I
felt very fortunate to have Aven Shore as narrator since she has more
than sixty audio books to her credit. She lives in Canada where loons
can be as familiar as they are in Maine and Minnesota. At her <a href="https://aven-shore.squarespace.com/welcome" target="_blank">blog</a> , she gives useful
information about the narration process. While working on <u>The Wide Awake Loons</u>, she wrote:</b></span></span></span>
</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="western" lang="en" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in;">
<span style="color: #134f5c;">“<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>It’s
a delightful dual POV story, of a little girl at her parents’
cottage, trying to get her canoe permissions extended, and the loon
couple raising their loonlings on the lake in the wildlife community.
Sometimes, their stories intersect! Dramatic, sensitive,
well-written, FUNNY, and realistic. This author knows her loons.</b></span></span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<span style="color: #134f5c;">
</span>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="western">
<span style="color: #134f5c;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>I’m
having a ball voicing all the characters - the </b></span></span><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>dramatis
persona</b></span></span></i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>
includes the regal and superior loons, Chip Chap the chipmunk,
Spotted Croak the mink toad, the gulls, the pine siskins, and more.”</b></span></span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div class="western">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" lang="en" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in;">
<span style="color: #993366;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>An
audio book seems like quite a challenge for performance stamina. As a
flute player, I know the difference between playing Bach solo and
playing flute parts in an ensemble. Take a deep breath because there
are few breaks. I am impressed at the ability it requires to change
voice between different characters and the narrator's. It seems
similar to a ventriloquist's talent. Anyway, I would not attempt
narration of my own books.</b></span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" lang="en" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in;">
<span style="color: #993366;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>I
began to read after listening to <u>Peter Rabbit</u> repeatedly and
eventually pointing at the words as they were said. Teachers and
students read aloud as listeners follow text. But when it comes to
longer stories, chapter books, and novels, children have to leap into
reading all alone. At school, teachers might read aloud a longer book
but it has to please the crowd. An audio book can be a personal choice
and it can also be a reading method where progress does not feel
intimidating. </b></span></span></span>
</div>
<div class="western" lang="en" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in;">
<span style="color: #993366;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>When
I think of the advent of the children's novel, I visualize a hearth
and family members sitting around it, the way they sat around a
television later on, one of them reading aloud. This would account
for the difficulty of the 19th century juvenile novel and the fine
plotting that made it family entertainment. If a child didn't
understand a word, they could ask. Discussion probably aided
comprehension. With an audio book, a child can follow an e-book or
paperback, read along or dip in and out. To me, this all provides an enjoyable learning experience, and one with options. Or there is just
the enhancement of the dramatic voice enlivening the story.</b></span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in;">
<br />
<br /></div>
Katherine L. Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13149740043743870827noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1744309722936898768.post-40298595519376419072018-10-22T11:53:00.000-07:002018-10-22T11:53:21.893-07:003 literary journals: Ginosko, Animal, and The Courtship of Winds
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<b><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">An
illuminating experience of being published in a literary journal is
how I become more familiar with that journal and its contributors. A
plethora of lit mags, now on the internet, present quite a dilemma if
a person chooses to read new writers. With more publication, I've
enjoyed a wider range of journals. These are my recent publications
and reads.</span></span></span></b></div>
<b><span style="color: #073763;">
</span></b><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<b><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><a href="http://www.ginoskoliteraryjournal.com/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US"><u>Ginosko</u></span></span></span></a></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">
is a semi-annual litzine based in California since 2002. I have six
poems in their Summer 2018 issue, #21. This is a big issue, about 250
pages that can be viewed <a href="http://www.ginoskoliteraryjournal.com/downloads.htm" target="_blank">online</a> . </span></span></span><a href="http://www.ginoskoliteraryjournal.com/downloads.htm"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="text-decoration: none;"></span></span></span></span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">
A definition for this Greek word </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US"><i>ginosko</i></span></span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">,
"The recognition of truth from experience", tells my
absorption in reading. </span></span></span></span></span></span></b>
</div>
<b><span style="color: #073763;">
</span></b><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<b><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">A
short story about a lawyer and his wife, </span><span lang="en-US">“</span><span lang="en-US">Two
Secrets</span><span lang="en-US">”</span><span lang="en-US">
by Norbert Kovacs, really hit the spot this last month. I also
savored "On a Sweet River" by Elizabeth Buechner Morris,
about a young Guatemalan, and "Assembly Heart</span><span lang="en-US">”</span><span lang="en-US">
by Laura Valeri where an inner reality is told to the paranormal.
Doug Mathewson's short shorts expressed the vitality of today's West.</span></span></span></span></b></div>
<b><span style="color: #073763;">
</span></b><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<b><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">James
Grabill's poetry uses scientific imagery in a flowing style that
gives sense to his themes. The strong thoughts in Jonathan Jones'
poetry are rendered with interesting sound patterns.</span></span></span></span></b></div>
<b><span style="color: #073763;">
</span></b><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<b><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">There
is so much more in this issue to peruse for readers of varied tastes.</span></span></span></b></div>
<b><span style="color: #073763;">
</span></b><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<b><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><a href="https://animalliterarymagazine.com/" target="_blank"><span lang="en-US"><u>Animal:A Beast of a Literary Magazine</u></span></a></span><span lang="en-US">
has, since 2012, been publishing monthly creative work about human
encounters with animals, </span><span lang="en-US">“</span><span lang="en-US">on
the divide between wild and domestic.</span><span lang="en-US">”</span><span lang="en-US">
My short story </span><span lang="en-US">“</span><span lang="en-US">The
Recluse and the Raccon</span><span lang="en-US">”</span><span lang="en-US">
was published last May.</span></span></span></span></b></div>
<b><span style="color: #073763;">
</span></b><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<b><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">The
reading, I found, was at that edge, providing unusual insights into
our interface with the natural world, and unique from the personal
perspective. I was drawn to a short story about octopuses by Brigitte
McCray and how they affected a musician's decisions while she lived
in Greece. There are stunning and disturbing images of box turtles
in traffic - non-fiction by Allan Stein - and cougars - fiction by
Heather Durham. Judith Roney maintains surreality in her poem, </span><span lang="en-US">“</span><span lang="en-US">Bird
in a Brick House.</span><span lang="en-US">” </span></span></span></span></b></div>
<b><span style="color: #073763;">
</span></b><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<b><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">Upcoming
for me is </span><span style="color: #741b47;"><a href="https://www.thecourtshipofwinds.org/" target="_blank"><span lang="en-US"><u>The Courtship of Winds</u></span></a></span><span lang="en-US">
publishing two poems. William V. Ray, the editor, has re-launched
this bi-annual literary journal to digital. His contributors come
from fascinating backgrounds which are reflected in the poetry there.
I also savored the fiction in the last issue, especially Denise
Kline's moving and ominous story about Ali, a young herder who
crosses the Mediterranean as a refugee.</span></span></span></span></b></div>
<b><span style="color: #073763;">
</span></b><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<b><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">At
</span><span lang="en-US"><u>The
Courtship of Winds,</u></span><span lang="en-US">
Ray provides statistics about digital literary journals and readers.
I keep lists and then want to branch out again, discovering reading
and opportunity that was once confined to small press print and fully
stocked bookstores.</span></span></span></span></b></div>
<b><span style="color: #073763;">
</span></b><div align="LEFT" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<b><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">One
of my ideas about literary work is that it handles the news that
couldn't be published as news. While I like highly imagined work, I
still appreciate a work of literature for giving the sense that it
really happened. In a time when people can press a few buttons and
see hard facts or false accounts about the globe they live on,
reading convincing details from inner or personal angles often
provides another tether.</span></span></span></span></b></div>
Katherine L. Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13149740043743870827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1744309722936898768.post-20540832029311980562018-08-16T11:28:00.001-07:002018-08-16T14:06:01.696-07:00A cat, T. S. Eliot, and rare literary journals<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #333366;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">My
eighteen-year-old cat Claudine died recently. A tortie tabby or
tortoise shell tabby, I had called her the Welsh Terrier Cat because
her markings were similar to a dog breed I would like. She often sat
near me when I wrote rough drafts. Despite kidney disease, she was
spry up to three days before her end.</span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEQq3cnKpQ_LJgItu7PDkMb1jD9CyywnH6XmqMF8zjOECmZuYrYxddjHUx3Hnp0N9ac0mg-vJ8B_5L_HlpUoq5JCeftmuhxw8UVn2KR2IlOy376BkxD93NH-vOkSN8laU07xoAE4rHpnKg/s1600/2-23-18++cropped.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="348" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEQq3cnKpQ_LJgItu7PDkMb1jD9CyywnH6XmqMF8zjOECmZuYrYxddjHUx3Hnp0N9ac0mg-vJ8B_5L_HlpUoq5JCeftmuhxw8UVn2KR2IlOy376BkxD93NH-vOkSN8laU07xoAE4rHpnKg/s200/2-23-18++cropped.JPG" width="130" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Claudine in 2018 with scratch paper</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #333366;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Watching
her, I opened up poetry I hadn't read in years – T. S. Eliot's
“Four Quartets.” The poet who provided lyrics for the musical
<u>Cats</u><span style="text-decoration: none;"> felt like good
company. </span></span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
<b><span style="color: #333366;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Being
involved with new journals and new poets, I probably don't read poets
that fascinated me in college often enough. I had a seminar on T. S.
Eliot however I read his “Four Quartets” again during a winter
break. Lines from it stayed with me for years. The first stanza
beginning with “Time present and time past/ are both present in
time future,/And time future contained in time past” had a philosophical content that spoke to me when I
had separated from home and my earlier years. </span></span></span></b>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
<b><span style="color: #333366;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Four
decades later, I found the poetry not only philosophical and written
in a style that mirrored the deco era, but more understandable in its
confrontation with time. It was about waiting and suggested a
possible undiscovered dimension, pointing to physics. The flourishes
and sudden everyday images in these contemplations, even though cats
were not mentioned as they were in “Prufrock”, had a feline
solemnity.</span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
<b><span style="color: #333366;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I had
written an observation about Claudine and included that as the third
section of a long poem, an after thought. Later on, I felt the linkage was weak so I
revised the poem with only the two sections. I had a fragment, a
revision project because there were a few lines I couldn't discard. </span></span></span></b>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
<b><span style="color: #333366;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In
this mood, I was reminded of the summer's best finds for my internet
used bookstore. I obtained a number of <i>The Dial</i> back issues at
a library sale. <i>The Dial</i> was the main literary magazine
during the 1920's, during my favorite era of literature. No, I did
not find the issue that first published T. S. Eliot's “The
Wasteland”, darn. But I have issues with “London Letters” from
T. S. Eliot, letters to <i>The Dial </i>about the literary scene in
England.</span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTgvxdnM4NGkamLZUT7qPwMQcl1nS6ZtwxLDC7eL6eNAnacrx3s3EBl6sYmhF3hIRZKeY6gufrzxq6pLhWaVbX_F7QzsYXJKh6ixorBizMbcsnLfoFxp8WAYgP3GCPKPotYa836ZckcuqF/s1600/s-l1600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1519" data-original-width="1049" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTgvxdnM4NGkamLZUT7qPwMQcl1nS6ZtwxLDC7eL6eNAnacrx3s3EBl6sYmhF3hIRZKeY6gufrzxq6pLhWaVbX_F7QzsYXJKh6ixorBizMbcsnLfoFxp8WAYgP3GCPKPotYa836ZckcuqF/s320/s-l1600.jpg" width="220" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #333366;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">The
eight issues I still have contain an array of writers and artists
still extant in our literary memory. I immediately read a poem by
James Joyce, “A Memoir of the Players”, which describes a stage
kiss. I'd read </span><span style="font-style: normal;"><u>Chamber
Music</u></span><span style="text-decoration: none;">, a thin book of
Joyce's poetry which reminded me of Stephen Dedalus's villanelle in
</span><u>Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man</u><span style="text-decoration: none;">.
This poem was different!</span></span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG4d8r7MVHJGcsJuFWGBzzry1OaANTiEjUHqHx7EHmky8lKB1-UChHXJdepH5z3CSGunuyf6nBcKW5FrwywUtgDEbdY1LSKUDMh2Lbj31C6w2Ojiqr841oceX3GbphjprhnVUHAE3r5z3Q/s1600/51X%252B3LubvYL._SX338_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="340" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG4d8r7MVHJGcsJuFWGBzzry1OaANTiEjUHqHx7EHmky8lKB1-UChHXJdepH5z3CSGunuyf6nBcKW5FrwywUtgDEbdY1LSKUDMh2Lbj31C6w2Ojiqr841oceX3GbphjprhnVUHAE3r5z3Q/s320/51X%252B3LubvYL._SX338_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" width="218" /></a></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
<b><span style="color: #333366;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In the
issues I have are poems by E. E. Cummings before he committed his
name to lower case, D. H. Lawrence, William Carlos Williams, Marianne
Moore, Sterling North, and Hart Crane. There's fiction by Thomas Mann
and A. E. Coppard, essays by Virginia Woolf and Liam O'Flaherty, and
a long piece by William Butler Yeats in which he seems to feel
obliged to explain his work relationship with Oscar Wilde. An essay
by Maxim Gorki is titled “About Murderers” and also refers to the
cinema. There is art by Picasso, Kahlil Gibran, Rodin, Georgia
O'Keefe, and Jean Cocteau.</span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUhOsDxLi1COAIIxcvLKVF1hoVg-25yf-u1WscOAFQJsQOLyCKKlbeqocHWFFYnUZavWmpFA4bNZBKxusaASrPMywIvsvLwv5wFAquh2OqY9ggze0dhSKrkKeUJzLBHlcIvHLUXL9ZO7Xr/s1600/Picasso.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUhOsDxLi1COAIIxcvLKVF1hoVg-25yf-u1WscOAFQJsQOLyCKKlbeqocHWFFYnUZavWmpFA4bNZBKxusaASrPMywIvsvLwv5wFAquh2OqY9ggze0dhSKrkKeUJzLBHlcIvHLUXL9ZO7Xr/s320/Picasso.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sanguine Drawing by Picasso in The Dial</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #333366;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH3R_yWXMjSl9Z4gzsuPlNIkd9cmoiHdfx_YKa1-jSUQdFRWQ9l5YGNnCdTuAmIEvVbi3d2E1pHrpUZpnWahwQhokzbWtgbgkF1tz3IuUmosEhnMtLg4qtBtlul2S3PZWGTBQdHBOYELHb/s1600/O%2527Keefe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH3R_yWXMjSl9Z4gzsuPlNIkd9cmoiHdfx_YKa1-jSUQdFRWQ9l5YGNnCdTuAmIEvVbi3d2E1pHrpUZpnWahwQhokzbWtgbgkF1tz3IuUmosEhnMtLg4qtBtlul2S3PZWGTBQdHBOYELHb/s320/O%2527Keefe.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Flagpole (First Painting) by Georgia O'Keefe in The Dial</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
<b><span style="color: #333366;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
don't know what it means for an artist to have a photograph of a work put in a journal. The value a famous writer's first publication
or first printing of a literary piece is something I can better
appreciate as in a gallery. For some, it might be beyond value, like the first
memories of a person or a pet after you've spent years with them.</span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
Katherine L. Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13149740043743870827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1744309722936898768.post-54331200280853478192018-06-15T17:22:00.000-07:002018-06-15T17:22:23.434-07:00A response on child separation<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #660033;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Reading
about children being separated from their families at U.S. borders, I
was stunned to learn that the U.S. was the only country in the United
Nations who had not ratified the Convention on the Rights of the
Child. This was noted by the spokesperson for the Office of the
United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights, Ravina Shamdasani,
when she was interviewed on that commission's criticism of the U.S.'s
recent actions.</span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYYCq3gNLVkCReqBDGjik5n2EMItfv51cWYEww1RQraIVBpwZcgXJst3VQLVTWzeoCifSCWZfqBl2L1YLyUcjnAmRb4o4-UBOx82fFQ6EuA6j5tI9DSBE1u00l0WMB8mSvTVxUyy5xfBeg/s1600/c+Vitma1978+Dreamstine+Stock+Photos+%2526+Stock+Free+Images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYYCq3gNLVkCReqBDGjik5n2EMItfv51cWYEww1RQraIVBpwZcgXJst3VQLVTWzeoCifSCWZfqBl2L1YLyUcjnAmRb4o4-UBOx82fFQ6EuA6j5tI9DSBE1u00l0WMB8mSvTVxUyy5xfBeg/s320/c+Vitma1978+Dreamstine+Stock+Photos+%2526+Stock+Free+Images.jpg" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">c Vitma1978 / Dreamstime Stock Photos & Stock Free Images</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #660033;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #660033;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Other
articles told of the numbers of children already moved to Michigan
and Chicago where they were to be given to foster parents. The other
night, I saw network news coverage of a temporary holding building where,
for some reason, the faces of the children and their caregivers could
not be photographed.</span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<b>
</b>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #660033;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
United States maintained that there might be false claims of
parentage, that some adults were using children in order to gain
entrance into the U.S. I couldn't understand why DNA tests weren't
administered before a child was forcibly taken and admitted to a plan
for food, shelter, transportation, and foster care. An individual can
obtain a paternity test for about $70. At any rate, if the child was
taken by an adult that wasn't its parent, then the child is someone
else's, not the possession of the U.S.</span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCRHh2u1xQgz8BJaKKKLhMqAgz5LNq4mqBnXqG86Uvux5iPr4lBbFyS2KMvjTJNH2UyWj7xv0CdrnEXE05ubz_gpNncdewFy2LYnjcDgy50ANfMG31sYOb3WWJYOpgTe6bo3rCQJ8UWYKG/s1600/freeimage-20010916-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="526" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCRHh2u1xQgz8BJaKKKLhMqAgz5LNq4mqBnXqG86Uvux5iPr4lBbFyS2KMvjTJNH2UyWj7xv0CdrnEXE05ubz_gpNncdewFy2LYnjcDgy50ANfMG31sYOb3WWJYOpgTe6bo3rCQJ8UWYKG/s320/freeimage-20010916-web.jpg" width="209" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">c Blojfo / Dreamstine Stock Photos & Stock Free Images</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #660033;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In
a country where children are afraid of sitting in schools because of
violence, and where abuse by foster parents is a real factor, this
all seems pretty atrocious. </span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #660033;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span>
</b></div>
<b>
</b>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #660033;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
United States probably has had the highest statistics for their own
children being separated from parents because of divorce and foster
care. Whatever the advantage of this contemporary shift, the fact of
separation remains. Perhaps people in the U.S. are in a routine of
callousness towards the feelings of children. </span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #660033;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Children are separated
from parents when foster care is the decision. This seems premature
if a child was indeed kidnapped, and without looking for their real
parent or parents.</span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<b>
</b>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #660033;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
fail to understand why the U.S. does not work with other nations in
establishing the identities of people seeking entrance into the U.S.
Because those people lived somewhere else, it would seem that the
native nation should be involved. </span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #660033;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span>
</b></div>
<b>
</b>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #660033;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">My
book <u>Tug of the Wishbone,</u> set out to explore the longterm
affects of divorce for its protagonist and how they changed
perceptions about relationships and family life. An adult book, the
first chapters centered on specific events, skipping time from one
chapter to the next, until Maureen was a teenager. I did not want to
dwell on her childhood, but to give enough of it for an underpinning
to the main story. </span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #660033;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span>
</b></div>
<b>
</b>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #660033;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In
one early chapter, Maureen refers to scenes of separation from her
father. Because I wanted to show how a child of divorce survives,
I didn't want to milk the trauma. This
was because of my own feelings about child characters in an adult
novel. I attempted to write her into the story as the character she
really was. The problems were adult so I chose to concentrate on the
active scenes with her family at the outset. The fact is, a younger
child has little power and is usually not the hinge of the family
scene, especially when larger issues reign. Such a child might not be
thinking of themselves. They don't know what to think.</span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAnR9jeMKEhsw8zvmY-eDLo818b6vUqROnx60S00_N2pgI_vbrhn5QH1zMcVdRkIDs43ianS5qQ23bvuQ6mvch4EuKmp83cZi5qJGxTGmvkg7SOHXDx6kQ06e_AYotTgSlHMN53CZKLy5e/s1600/c+Paha_l+Dreamstine+Stock+Photos+%2526+Stock+Free+Images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="533" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAnR9jeMKEhsw8zvmY-eDLo818b6vUqROnx60S00_N2pgI_vbrhn5QH1zMcVdRkIDs43ianS5qQ23bvuQ6mvch4EuKmp83cZi5qJGxTGmvkg7SOHXDx6kQ06e_AYotTgSlHMN53CZKLy5e/s320/c+Paha_l+Dreamstine+Stock+Photos+%2526+Stock+Free+Images.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">c Paha_l /Dreamstime Stock Photos & Stock Free Images</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #660033;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
preferred a Dickens handling of the child in an adult novel. Although
I wrote from Maureen's point-of-view, I depicted the family and
neighborhood scenes in a dramatic way instead of a narrative way.
This fit with the idea of the novel, to show a child-of-divorce in
relationship. When Maureen thought like an adult, the book shifted
into her individual story with more of her interior. If there
was a lasting trauma from divorce, then I decided to explore how
that came out later on.</span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<b>
</b>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #660033;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Life
goes on. The story of child separation is gripping and the scenes
important. The next problem is that children get past trauma and they
survive as they can. They won't be coddled because of a past
experience with agony, and they might deal with expectations that
cannot be tailored for them as individuals, especially with
displacement. Lucky children have parents who plan for them and
provide an undisputed home. Unlucky children have to be heroic, too
often, in order to be happy.</span></span></span></b></div>
<b>
</b>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
<br /></div>
Katherine L. Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13149740043743870827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1744309722936898768.post-16643294975755841782018-04-19T15:14:00.000-07:002018-04-19T16:14:12.630-07:00Reminding me of Russian literature<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">What
are these maps?</span></span></span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinOusjkqdpzDwLkGvQxCu6dd8NmUocE3sAQPl3MvNrH0Du77AfZJITf8TKkaizFqMFQsJJWZMW6mQNtmwJOfyNQnhnbngey9kCctWdC2H-wsl6o9HbZa_gIU7ZPnbqBsgEFyqLn0uw-T9I/s1600/27868004_10212080551504465_3543397850183333840_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="251" data-original-width="447" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinOusjkqdpzDwLkGvQxCu6dd8NmUocE3sAQPl3MvNrH0Du77AfZJITf8TKkaizFqMFQsJJWZMW6mQNtmwJOfyNQnhnbngey9kCctWdC2H-wsl6o9HbZa_gIU7ZPnbqBsgEFyqLn0uw-T9I/s320/27868004_10212080551504465_3543397850183333840_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmUIeM1vxckZih7Gk5C07usmCrBdr5nKUyPHTe9br4EoMc4JfliO8V85T7RzmMys5GKxh6tQP905_4t6dUTFPsi0POH960D4wFdvLYZaEB2MJkjeHhX7u3oXflgZHP2RNPnl2I-t95YXnT/s1600/chart.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
</a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmUIeM1vxckZih7Gk5C07usmCrBdr5nKUyPHTe9br4EoMc4JfliO8V85T7RzmMys5GKxh6tQP905_4t6dUTFPsi0POH960D4wFdvLYZaEB2MJkjeHhX7u3oXflgZHP2RNPnl2I-t95YXnT/s1600/chart.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="174" data-original-width="348" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmUIeM1vxckZih7Gk5C07usmCrBdr5nKUyPHTe9br4EoMc4JfliO8V85T7RzmMys5GKxh6tQP905_4t6dUTFPsi0POH960D4wFdvLYZaEB2MJkjeHhX7u3oXflgZHP2RNPnl2I-t95YXnT/s320/chart.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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<span style="color: #45818e;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">They represent readers of this blog during the last
months. I looked at my blog stats and saw that a large proportion of
its readers were in Russia. When this first happened, I thought it
a fluke. A blog last fall contained an excerpt from <u>Tug of the
Wishbone.</u> Maureen, the protagonist, discussed Russia with a
boyfriend who traveled there.</span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;">
</span></b>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">My
book, <u>The Swan Bonnet</u>, has characters with mixed heritage. I
arrived at that from the history of Russians in Alaska. </span></span></span></b>
</div>
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;">
</span></b>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;"><br /></span></b>
</div>
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;">
</span></b>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">How
interesting, was my initial reaction, to be read where there is a
high standard for published writing. Though I couldn't think of any
Russian women authors in that history.</span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;">
</span></b>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
subject of Russian literature really gets me going.</span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs-fTJqFa_nWZglqUZTjiAjuw5W7T6dNJUJe85BUjWD7PX8u0gSrlV1b-36mtLMU_F_BPHrggKsgNO31vJNrqLf14VuMfNo4AkQamQy4WAYa-3NSnLqZ88Tj6DJ7g4rrBNE_oIX7K6WEFE/s1600/51suf7R94SL._AC_US218_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="218" data-original-width="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs-fTJqFa_nWZglqUZTjiAjuw5W7T6dNJUJe85BUjWD7PX8u0gSrlV1b-36mtLMU_F_BPHrggKsgNO31vJNrqLf14VuMfNo4AkQamQy4WAYa-3NSnLqZ88Tj6DJ7g4rrBNE_oIX7K6WEFE/s1600/51suf7R94SL._AC_US218_.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Modern Library edition, from Amazon.com</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
read <u>Anna Karenina</u> as an adolescent and afterwards felt that
the book set up a formidable standard for adult literature. Thomas
Hardy stood up to the adultery, illicit love issue but I began to
class many adult books as simply being about adultery. <u>Anna
Karenina</u> was a much bigger book than that. It had quite an
effect on me, choosing to identify with Kitty in the secondary plot.</span></span></span></b></div>
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;">
</span></b>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;"><br /></span></b>
</div>
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;">
</span></b>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
was not so happy with film versions of <u>Anna Karenina</u>. I
couldn’t understand why there was sympathy for Count Karenin. At
thirteen, my understanding was that the government official Karenin
bought the most beautiful young aristocratic woman, Anna, and made
her live an austere, loveless existence until she had a son.
Nineteenth century literature often challenged the compatibility of
the marriage match. It questioned the institution’s integrity.</span></span></span></b></div>
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;">
</span></b>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;"><br /></span></b>
</div>
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;">
</span></b>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Lately,
I was involved with a discussion among Facebook writers about tense.
We agreed that writers these days usually write in one tense and that
the present tense throughout a book could feel uncomfortable. I
furnished an example from Tolstoy, his long short story, <u>The
Snowstorm</u>, in which he moved from past to present tense in a
natural way and to step up the pace during a very long sleigh ride.
Dickens also used this technique, evident in the first chapters of
<u>Our Mutual Friend,</u> where it gave immediacy in a dining room
with many characters. Why these techniques are not used so much
among authors today could point to the difference between the old
masters and other authors, we concluded at the discussion. </span></span></span></b>
</div>
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;">
</span></b>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;"><br /></span></b>
</div>
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;">
</span></b>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><u>Crime
and Punishment</u>, I think, was the most compelling book I ever
read. However, some years ago a freshman composition student took me
off-course, asking if I had read <u>The Brothers Karamozov.</u> She
was so enthralled with it. I began reading the book and couldn’t
get involved. Just before the 2016 election, I picked it up again
from my used book stock. The elder Karamozov, repeatedly referred to
as a buffoon, caught me this time. I struggled with the book because
I felt that Dostoyevsky didn’t have the editing that he had for
<u>Crime and Punishment.</u> It was worth the struggle. </span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3OPc1KqPSvcIPDTFEIfmAolyVSrJrWITw54a4RIAnPtcsnRq2utxGDHP9kpVhg1aoKMOP0BPeMv02oYw5Z-frtpDa_Yqzq-3rjlWDLqG7jljiOkKpwzahh2VGD6HtOpFRVhKaWbb_x-oi/s1600/51AyMwS60jL._AC_US218_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="218" data-original-width="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3OPc1KqPSvcIPDTFEIfmAolyVSrJrWITw54a4RIAnPtcsnRq2utxGDHP9kpVhg1aoKMOP0BPeMv02oYw5Z-frtpDa_Yqzq-3rjlWDLqG7jljiOkKpwzahh2VGD6HtOpFRVhKaWbb_x-oi/s1600/51AyMwS60jL._AC_US218_.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Brothers Karamozov, International Collectors Edition, from Amazon.com</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;"></span></b><br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">When
I felt ennui at the adultery problem in adult novels, I read <u>Cancer
Ward.</u> Solzhenitsyn had accomplished a grand Russian novel with
that as the setting. Later, I read his short story work, and then
looked at <u>The Gulag Archipelago.</u> The pages I read of that book
stunned me so much that I put it off for another time.</span></span></span></b></div>
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;">
</span></b>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;"><br /></span></b>
</div>
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;">
</span></b>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In
the 1980’s, I concluded that Sigrid Undset, author of <u>Kristin
Lavransdatter</u>, was the only woman who had written a Russian
novel. (Maybe I’ll get some blog readers from Norway now.)</span></span></span></b></div>
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;">
</span></b>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;"><br /></span></b>
</div>
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;">
</span></b>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
suppose I have spent more time with Russian literature than with
learning about the Cold War.</span></span></span></b></div>
Katherine L. Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13149740043743870827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1744309722936898768.post-91849319754242515712018-02-21T12:24:00.000-08:002018-02-21T12:24:14.308-08:00Walking and writing, especially poetry<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #20124d;"><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">My
last post, “How environmental themes entered my writing” dealt
with fiction. I didn't mention my poetry writing and the “how”
often happening from walking or hiking. Environment and poetry seem
to have such an obvious relationship that I left it out. </span></span>
</b></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="color: #20124d; font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="color: #20124d; font-size: small;"><b>Although
I tried many sports, swimming and walking were my regular activities
in adult life. <u>Hiking</u> was the term we used then but I found,
living in the Twin Cities, that city hiking was stimulating too.
Walking around the lakes there was a social exercise. I also liked
walking to Lake Calhoun and back, clocking about four miles. In
Duluth, the shoreline of a great lake, creeks and woods in the parks,
and stands of trees in neighborhoods are in the walking panorama.
Working with used books, I've converted to early morning walks when
garage or estate sales are within my range.</b></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="color: #20124d; font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #20124d;"><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I've
liked seeing gardens and architectures, lawns that were allowed to go
wild, the crow supervising the gathering squirrel, the expressiveness
of trees, finding the woodpecker making the noise, raccoons, and
does with fawns. </span></span>
</b></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="color: #20124d; font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="color: #20124d; font-size: small;"><b>Once
I began writing regularly, I found that walking both relieved tension
and kept the creative breezes flowing. Many famous writers regularly
took a morning or an afternoon walk.</b></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="color: #20124d; font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #20124d;"><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">These
walks, though, made me more of a poet, not just an inspired poet but
a poet who feels thematic and then writes more regularly. Walking a
few miles opens up the awareness and associations. I tended to see my
fiction from an inner view like film. Poetry was that moment a
photographer catches except that the poet has their inner awareness
and associations, those creative breezes that pick up images like
seeds. Writing </span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>that
</i></span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">draws a
parallel, a metaphor. Nature becomes a cohesion of forces, scientific
included but not the prevailing attitude.</span></span></b></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="color: #20124d; font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #20124d;"><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">When
the digital camera came along, I often simply stopped, took a
picture, and put it on Facebook. It was a moment that seemed unusual
and revealing. But writing a poem usually happened within a system, from the soil of associations. The challenge was to find out
whether you made sense to a reader while giving a personal
perspective. </span></span>
</b></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="color: #20124d; font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="color: #20124d; font-size: small;"><b>Being
out-of-doors and becoming a part of that causes a pensive mind to
wonder about systems. With poetry, I liked to find parallels for
human life. It was a coincidence that I was moving, my apartment
emptying except for a couch, when a swarm of monarch butterflies
decided to rest in the trees outside the window. It seemed like magic
but then it made me more enthusiastic about writing poetry.</b></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="color: #20124d; font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="color: #20124d; font-size: small;"><b>Ever
since Wordsworth in western culture, after poets began writing on a
subject rather than relating a story worthy of a novel or play,
nature for the sake of nature came to the forefront. Poets have
looked at the environment in a different way, and usually as a system
that affects and even directs man.</b></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="color: #20124d; font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I've
seen in recent journals some superb poetry that, unfortunately,
mourns the present situation with environment while it celebrates the
naturalistic world. Many of my poems led to an environmental
perspective and were published in literary journals, listed on my
website. In recent years, I was proud to have poems published in </span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="color: #20124d;"> </span><span style="color: #4c1130;"><a href="http://www.americanpopularculture.com/review_americana.htm" target="_blank">Review Americana</a>, </span></i></span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: small;"><i><a href="http://ciderpressreview.com/" target="_blank">Cider Press Review</a>, </i></span></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: small;"><i><a href="http://arlijo.com/" target="_blank">ArLiJo,</a></i></span></span></b><b><span style="color: #4c1130;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><a href="https://www.whlreview.com/" target="_blank">Wilderness House Literary Review</a></i></span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">,
and</span></span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="color: #4c1130;"> <a href="http://www.theadirondackreview.com/winter2017.html" target="_blank">The Adirondack Review</a>.</span> </i></span></span><span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
Recently, a poem of mine was included in <a href="http://www.newamericanpress.com/newmidwest.php" target="_blank">New Poetry from the Midwest 2018</a>,
published by New American Press.</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="color: #20124d; font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="color: #20124d; font-size: small;"><b>Literary
journals can focus on regions or what gives a sense of place, the
land we live on. I continue to explore them at <a href="https://www.newpages.com/" target="_blank">New Pages</a>.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="color: #20124d; font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
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<br />Katherine L. Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13149740043743870827noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1744309722936898768.post-51959807431529355392017-12-19T14:28:00.000-08:002017-12-20T07:02:16.554-08:00How environmental themes entered my writing<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "georgia" , serif;">While
at the University of Minnesota, I worked as a temporary with a book
manuscript about global warming. That was in 1982 so I was
incredulous as I read and typed. I know it sounded like scientific
gobbledygook to a few friends when I told about it.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">In
1983, when I began to write longer fiction, environment as a human
concern began to creep into the plot. Living in a city made me
nostalgic for the agricultural prairie landscape where I grew up and
for the Minnesota forest and lake region where my grandparents lived.
Nature issues became part of my plots, perhaps because I felt
deprived of landscape when I was writing. But they <i>were </i></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">issues.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">My
first children’s novel, which I have not published, was set in a
Northern Minnesota town where a paper company was the main industry.
It was a mystery. Paper was a big concern then. How often did we
hear how many trees were cut down for a ream of paper! Environment
was a sideline in the book but when I wrote it, no one really
anticipated how the computer industry would solve the paper problem.
A successful environmental story has happened since the 1980’s and
without societal agony. </span>
</span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><u>Josiah's Apple Orchard</u> was first drafted as a fantasy, though it was based on a real
pick-your-own apple orchard. I re-wrote it with more reality during
the farming crisis in the Midwest. The specialty apple orchard I’d
visited as a child was sold with the fate of many farms in the
1980’s. Of course its apples were the best I’d had, and the farm
was organic as farms used to be. Since the 1980's, the organic farm
movement has grown and succeeded, specialty apples included. When a
reviewer wrote that my book had a “surrealistic feel”, I was
pleased that I had accomplished for that reader the parallel
realities I wanted to evoke in a children's novel.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">I
grew up hearing loon calls in the Northern Minnesota summer, and also
watching lake activities expanding. Maintaining the environment for
loons, children wanting to protect a loon family in particular, was
the theme of <u>The Wide Awake Loons.</u> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">In the second edition of the book, I added vignette illustrations of
Northern Minnesota wildlife and lake scenes.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><u>Claude: A Dog of the Sixties</u> is about how a standard poodle really must be trained, because of
that breed's curiosity and independent spirit. Although <u>Claude</u></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"> didn’t have an environment theme, it dealt with the keeping of a
pet in an environment appropriate for its well-being.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">I
wasn't through with the bird protection theme. When my brother
worked in Anchorage and then in Ketchikan, I thought for a time of
moving to South Alaska. While reading about this region, I came
across information about the swan endangerment there that affected
the entire North American continent's swan population. This was a
successful environmental story, the protection laws for swans
increasing their numbers after they had decreased dramatically. <u>The Swan Bonnet</u></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"> is a historical novel about poaching and protecting swans.</span></span></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Although
I grew up in a meat packing town, I wasn't much of a meat eater and
later, bought mostly chicken. In the early 1990's, I saw for the
first time the new poultry farming, a farm factory that is, on a PBS
documentary. Afterward I went to the supermarket, looked at the
chicken, then realized the price of eggs, and refused to buy those
products again unless they were marked at a Co-op. That was the power
of a photograph. So when I drafted <u>Tug of the Wishbone</u></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">,
this environmental issue developed once my protagonist became a
photographer. </span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, serif;">Even
though novels with environmental themes weren't handled much by the
eastern publishers, having to do with demand, I'm sure, such as their
difficulty in publishing real animal fiction for children as they did
in the past, I hope you'll join me in those concerns for our planet,
the home of every creature we know.</span></div>
Katherine L. Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13149740043743870827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1744309722936898768.post-49654065130320307412017-10-15T14:24:00.000-07:002017-10-15T14:27:52.266-07:00Vintage "American Austen" author discovered: Mary J. Holmes<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #20124d;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Working
with used books in a physical store, I finally read a novel of Oliver
Wendell Holmes Sr. - </span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><u>Elsie
Venner.</u></span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> I
savored its depiction of New England life so when I came across
another book with Holmes on its spine, and one in bad condition, I
started reading it. That book was titled </span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><u>Cousin
Maude.</u></span></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: medium;"><b><u><br /></u></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: medium;"><b><u><br /></u></b></span><b><span style="color: #20124d;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><u></u></span></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #20124d;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><u><br /></u></span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="color: #20124d; font-size: medium;"><u><br /></u></span></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #20124d;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
title page was missing and after the first chapter, I said to myself,
“This is like an American Jane Austen. How could the author of
</span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><u>Elsie
Venner</u></span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> and
several more philosophical works write like this?” With internet
help, I found that I was reading Mary J. Holmes, an author I had seen
upstairs in our store, on shelves that were lower priced vintage. I
didn’t know anything about Mary J. Holmes and had confused her with
a religious author, Marjorie Holmes.</span></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="color: #20124d; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="color: #20124d; font-size: medium;"><b>Mary
J. Holmes was born Mary J. Hawes in 1825. From Massachusetts, she
married Daniel Holmes who became a lawyer. They lived for a few years
in Kentucky, which inspired some of her 39 novels, and then moved to
New York State. She traveled extensively. Her novels were
best-selling, I was surprised and ignorant to learn.</b></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="color: #20124d; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #20124d;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_GoBack"></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><u>Cousin
Maude</u></span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> was
both delightful and funny. Another reason I was so puzzled at
thinking Dr. Holmes had written the book was its doctor character,
step-father to Maude. He was plumbed after he insisted on walking to
the house of his second wife-to-be, for health but suspiciously
because he refused to pay a carriage driver. The second wife died too
and Maude's future was designated as domestic support to the doctor
and his two children, which began the Austen-like social imbroglio
concerning Maude and the doctor's daughter. I laughed many times
while realizing that Mary J. Holmes had a keen sense of the barriers
women experienced. And she also made the doctor's servants into vivid
characters, including a black couple who were hoping someday to have
a place of their own. But that wasn't the end of the doctor whose
next venture topped the romance of the younger set.</span></span></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="color: #20124d; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #20124d;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
book was a treat, but what I also liked about it was the detailed New
England setting and the skill of the novelist in bringing these
nineteenth century scenes to life. </span></span>
</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="color: #20124d; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #20124d;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
had to try another of her novels, available as e-books. </span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><u>Gretchen
</u></span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">was a
later work and it began with a sense of mystery. </span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
rich traveler Arthur comes back to his mansion mentally tormented,
though he immediately makes plans to renovate rooms for the
mysterious Gretchen, a lovely person who Arthur protests is “still
a child.”</span></span><span style="font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia";"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Again,
a male character is probed and with the same acerbity that points out
the pathos of neglected women when American men could rise.</span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
Gretchen became a ridiculous suspense that made me turn the pages.
Even though a baby appeared instead of her and mystified the entire
community with scant evidence of a German nurse, the author's
handling of Arthur still kept the mystery of Gretchen going. Arthur's
escape into building and planning his grounds was fascinating.
America was built quickly and this character with his vast railroad
fortune shows the mania for replicating European buildings and
terraces. The book has its romantic twists with the grown girl,
raised by a modest family after she was rescued without any
acknowledgement.</span></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #20124d;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
really couldn't understand how Mary J. Holmes was forgotten as a
novelist. I felt that Austen fans would enjoy her American parallels.
But she isn't so finely crafted as Austen and, because she was
prolific and so successful in her time, she was probably allowed to
draw out scenes and digress with minor characters. </span></span>
</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #20124d;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Now
I'm reading </span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><u>Bessie's
Fortune.</u></span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
This book has a more serious vein running through it, having to do
with a terrible guilt and secret event that affects a family. The
plot is different from the others in that there are connections to
England and Wales. Mary J. Holmes spikes her humor here with polite
barbs about lifestyle differences between her British and American
relatives. Bessie's family is gentry and related to a Lady Jane but
they are down on their money. Her parents are desperate enough to go
to Monte Carlo, splendidly described. While they cling to
respectability, they gamble with a young peer who has dressed as a
woman so he won’t be recognized. It looks like Bessie will be sent
to America to stay with her miserly aunt.</span></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="color: #20124d; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="color: #20124d;"><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
noticed at Amazon that reviewers were liking </span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><u>Gretchen</u></span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
as much as I had. There are others who are reading this author
because of her portrayal of women, class struggles, black characters,
and slavery. Though she has been called sentimental, and outcomes can
be heartwarming like Frances Hodgson Burnett, her American characters
might be called Dickensian in their eccentric personalities. Her
books are a trip to the America of the mid-1800's. </span></span></b>
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Katherine L. Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13149740043743870827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1744309722936898768.post-2007065722799034022017-08-21T13:04:00.000-07:002017-08-22T10:37:52.784-07:00Violence and the Imagination<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><b>Back
to thoughts on imagination, I was stirred to resume on the subjects of violence
and gratuitous violence. An Australian woman, engaged to a Minneapolis man, was
recently shot by a Minneapolis policeman after she reported what she thought
was a sexual assault in her alleyway. The accompanying officer said she ran up
to the car window of the officer who fired his gun at her. She worked as a yoga
instructor.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><b>This
brought back my graduate school years in Minneapolis. The murder rate was worse
per capita than New York City. Residents held night vigils because the police
couldn’t control the situation. In my building one winter night, the back door
window was smashed by a burglar. A
female tenant found the burglar in the laundry room and luckily fled upstairs
unscathed. When the police came, they actually said, “Maybe he was cold.”<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<b style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt;">We tenants learned from each other about the neighborhood milieu while
there was a lack of confidence in the police. In Minneapolis today, a foreign
woman would probably still need the news and the coaching that women supplied. One
instance of advice: A woman should stay put if she hears violence, and if she
reports it, never to reveal her role. Besides, police attitudes during a crime
wave could be corrosive.</b></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfdn9kCa0ce9xLa782dyky1rIYTKSB2oftSm_vuJY_3vzxEJ0l45UhOrWLtJ6WBzvymy4qbTy1rhEEATM-6v3GF7GnM-CmlC8f7wsPqcB0yPFdqi-rMRtp0s1cbyhljpnJScxrNaindXJP/s1600/Stuart+Miles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="316" data-original-width="400" height="157" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfdn9kCa0ce9xLa782dyky1rIYTKSB2oftSm_vuJY_3vzxEJ0l45UhOrWLtJ6WBzvymy4qbTy1rhEEATM-6v3GF7GnM-CmlC8f7wsPqcB0yPFdqi-rMRtp0s1cbyhljpnJScxrNaindXJP/s200/Stuart+Miles.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Image Stuart Miles @ FreeDigitalPhotos.net</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><b>During
this decade of my life, I had little interest in violence or crime as reading
or entertainment. I preferred literature that reflected life as it is, usually
with infrequent crimes. Good authors can show the mundane day as development
and make that as interesting as the action parts. I tried to do that in <u>Tug
of the Wishbone</u> where, in the second part, my character Maureen was
neighbor to a Minneapolis woman whose mother was murdered. My book followed another theme so loss from
murder and loss from divorce were perceived.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><b>Since
high school, I wondered at gratuitous violence on television. I wrote a paper
on television violence in college, inquiring whether it might encourage
violence in society. There wasn’t a lot of research on the subject then.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><b>Growing
up in a southern Minnesota county, I knew of one murder. A teenager shot a
teacher through her living room window. In recent years, the Mower County
sheriff’s office requested additional staff because of the unprecedented
numbers of gun permit applications.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><b>Last
year, I watched airings of a show I liked in the 1960’s – <i>The Man from U.N.C.L.E.</i> Clever plots, the humor of Napoleon Solo,
the variety of locales all kept my attention. The same thing happened that
happened when I was young. I tired of the torture scenes and the number of
characters shot to death.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><b>My
second job after college was reporter for a suburban St. Paul newspaper. Every
week in 1978, I visited the Maplewood police chief and every week, he had
little to report except for domestic violence. Today, a reporter there would be
much busier. A recent report numbers violent crime at 87 annually with 4
murders and 151 burglaries.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><b>While
sensationalism pervaded journalism, the rise in violence seems sensational in
itself. What does it mean if sensationalism pervades creative writing where the
sky is only the inner limit? And imaginations are used for sensationalism?<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOUtI3TB1e4io8cVLwZj9XWDKOk6DR2eacpzIeR1AbYVGMSW-qMg-SS64rMf4DJpuiBKQq5DMpI62JQciP7HntztZa2jtrgBeEYiCFRovz_DskrBSVxl-QSQz_0g3IFsWyEwd_V2MOMlhF/s1600/Stuart+Miles+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="362" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOUtI3TB1e4io8cVLwZj9XWDKOk6DR2eacpzIeR1AbYVGMSW-qMg-SS64rMf4DJpuiBKQq5DMpI62JQciP7HntztZa2jtrgBeEYiCFRovz_DskrBSVxl-QSQz_0g3IFsWyEwd_V2MOMlhF/s200/Stuart+Miles+2.jpg" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image Stuart Miles @ FreeDigitalPhotos.net</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt;">It
isn't that violence, a part of the human story, should not be portrayed. But
when violence is described without attention to the victim and the pain it
incurs, a story becomes only a partial reality. Although I had opinions about
television violence, I wanted to watch many Alfred Hitchcock movies when the
VHS's were available. Hitchcock gave a more complete reality to the crime
setting. Instead of concentrating on police and criminals as star characters,
he often gave attention to characters affected by the criminal and while they
were oblivious of an ensuing crime. This went along with the definition of
crime – that crime violates other people’s lives.</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><b>Some
years ago, I read Ovid’s <u>Metaphorphoses.</u> He retold violent Greek legends
and also a flood myth with pathos and conscience that, even though the stories
were distant in time, conveyed their impact. Ovid was writing in Ancient Rome;
I wondered how far he lived from the Colosseum. Oh, he was banished by Augustus
while writing the <u>Metamorphoses.</u> Previously he wrote love and erotic
poetry. I was stunned at the finale to the unfinished <u>Metamorphoses.</u>
Ovid stated that the human race had become violent because a man killed an
animal for food. He implored the Romans to become vegetarians.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhutSKmHaof6mSI-K1duFbANmL-oAAnQqLU_TobN3KTFnbz4eGz7COvlEDkfvVLd6fVWYuB8b2QzJ7XNj4yJsbSDU9C_Z8aBYZJ2Dd3QVpDEWRe95ituWWb0FcZyycHDQayvcfRc_CLTYuT/s1600/Simon+Howden.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="266" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhutSKmHaof6mSI-K1duFbANmL-oAAnQqLU_TobN3KTFnbz4eGz7COvlEDkfvVLd6fVWYuB8b2QzJ7XNj4yJsbSDU9C_Z8aBYZJ2Dd3QVpDEWRe95ituWWb0FcZyycHDQayvcfRc_CLTYuT/s200/Simon+Howden.jpg" width="132" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image Simon Howden @ FreeDigitalPhotos.net</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt;">Even
if people don't associate the current crimes in America with the fabrications
in our arts and entertainment industries, it certainly looks as if a parallel
world of real crime has occurred.</b></div>
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Katherine L. Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13149740043743870827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1744309722936898768.post-38770905739291266702017-06-16T13:24:00.000-07:002017-06-16T14:24:51.109-07:00Authors I Wish to Collect: Jane Austen & Mark Twain<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i><span style="background-color: #b6d7a8; color: #4c1130; font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Jane Austen? Why I go so far as to say that any
library is a good library that does not contain a volume by Jane Austen. </span></i><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><br />
<!--[endif]--></span></span></i><i><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>I heard that quote
from Mark Twain on MPR a few weeks ago. I thought, Twain and Austen have
something in common. In more than twelve years of searching for collectible
books, I have never found a copy of either of these authors from before 1900. I’ve sold Twain in 1920’s editions but no
Austen from before 1950. The conclusion is that if anyone has an old edition of
Jane Austen, they are not letting go of it.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>I scrolled through
all of Austen’s editions from before 1900 on Abebooks. Yes, if I ever come
across an edition from before 1920, the book is rare. An author I would like to
collect just isn’t usually found. And <u>Tom Sawyer</u> or <u>Huckleberry Finn</u>
from before 1900? Very few available.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>Twain was an
outspoken man about classic literature but his dislike of Jane Austen, which I
don’t think is fair, reminded me of a feud in my college English department. I
did student work there and heard a few of the frays. A professor that women
warned was a misogynist believed that Austen had no place in a college English
course. One of my favorite professors taught Austen, attended conferences on
her, wrote papers on her, and avidly defended her place in the English
department. My typical luck, I had been assigned to the chauvinist professor’s
freshman composition course. Following advice, I took it as one of my few
Pass/Fail's. I was to pass but after my final paper, he kept returning it to my
mailbox with the note that if I didn't fix the errors, I would fail. I
looked and looked, knowing it was probably the footnotes, until finally, I
found a period missing there. I corrected it and passed the course. No kidding,
he was hard on Jane Austen too. <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>My Jane Austen wishlist: (click on the book to see the listing)</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><b>Austen wrote a novel
like no one else in her time, crafting her work with the elegance that was within
her boundaries. Women then had to marry to have any kind of life, and she had a
mission, wanting good matches for life. Her renewed popularity in the early
2000’s was at first puzzling. I thought it might be due to contemporary work
situations and the enforced levels of communication between men and women. If
there is interest in the modern workplaces, it usually has to occur within a
careful framework.</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>I’ve relished stories
about workplaces, from classics such as “Bartleby the Scrivener” and “The
Catbird Seat” to our time. The workplace often has humor inherent which seems
to be from personalities clicking and conflicting.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>My adult novel <u>Tug
of the Wishbone </u>has a number of scenes from work in it. I think they gave
the book some balance from the relationship and interior sections. Maureen’s
personal quest and her camera work led to many descriptive scenes. Finally, I
had to do some cutting on the book. I had a goal after I researched women’s
novels. I did not dare to sprawl like Charlotte Bronte. My goal was the length
of an Austen novel which I accomplished, just about. In contemporary terms, I
admired Penelope Fitzgerald’s well-crafted snug novels. Some of my cuts were
offbeat scenarios and anecdotes about places and people of a region, part of a
photographer’s viewpoint, but ideas for another kind of story, essay, or
memoir.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>Mark Twain might not
have known of Jane Austen’s juvenilia. I
thought it hilarious and theorized that she was inspired by Henry Fielding. One of her characters planned an elopement during a
wild carriage ride, another demanded a Blifel-like suitor to guarantee an extravagant
floral conservatory and novelty carriage, another posed suggestively in
acrobatics at a costume party where the rich host, dressed as the sun, sat a
hallway away. The teenage Jane had the spirit of a Tom Sawyer. I imagined her
clergyman father disciplining her to write an acceptable piece of fiction. I
also thought that if she lived today, she might actually have become part of
comedy team and never written a novel. After all, she went to a most popular
social scene at Bath, and with freedom, might not have made it back to her
father’s parsonage.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>While I believe that <u>Huckleberry Finn </u>is an
incredibly great book if only Twain didn’t write in dialect so much, I had to
consider Twain’s female characters - Tom Sawyer’s aunt and the morbid female poet in
Huck Finn, both satirized for their gullibility and sentimentality. In fact,
American women poets of the nineteenth century often wrote memorial poems
for funerals. Many American lives have been described in poetic form, I found
in books by nineteenth century American women poets. <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><b>Maybe someday I will come across a
collectible Jane Austen novel for my changing library. To think that Mark Twain would approve of my
shelves because I haven’t run across Jane Austen much, and only editions like
Barnes & Noble.</b></span>Katherine L. Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13149740043743870827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1744309722936898768.post-2482926086399653562017-04-14T14:28:00.000-07:002017-04-14T14:28:18.897-07:00Authors I collect: D. H. Lawrence<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Working
at a used book and antiques store, my first collection was D. H.
Lawrence. I bought First Editions before I set up an internet store.
I was convinced that D. H. Lawrence would surmount other authors of
the Twentieth Century, despite other opinions. I still feel that he
was the Shakespeare of that period because of his prolific output and
his “scope” as Shakespeare would put it, producing vivid books
set in Mexico, the American Southwest, Australia, and Italy.</span></span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLwUB03M_qoobszKB2ql6ywm7koXnkn0wCXoaE5lszDnnY06ApBI2IAnODTn8NRmS85T0S9ousXIdkAs4ojIDcI7DJ9DPwpB-Itde_cfyvqMcrloyoGiEzL0XThtoFMW_FTIRl7iWoVvD6/s1600/Image+courtesy+of+dan+at+FreeDigitalPhotos.net.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLwUB03M_qoobszKB2ql6ywm7koXnkn0wCXoaE5lszDnnY06ApBI2IAnODTn8NRmS85T0S9ousXIdkAs4ojIDcI7DJ9DPwpB-Itde_cfyvqMcrloyoGiEzL0XThtoFMW_FTIRl7iWoVvD6/s320/Image+courtesy+of+dan+at+FreeDigitalPhotos.net.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Image courtesy of dan at FreeDigitalPhotos.net</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He
influenced me, along with other authors, while I wrote adult short
stories and the book that became <u>Tug of the Wishbone</u>. I first
read <u>The Rainbow</u> when my mother was reading it for a course.
As a teenager, I opened the novel during summer vacation and was
swept into the earthy English farm setting. Ursula Brangwen’s
ill-fated romance wasn’t so satisfactory then. But the novel
fascinated me for portraying a family history where characters were
as human as people in my era.</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">When
I picked up the book decades later, I remembered it as
fulfilling its title. <u>The Rainbow</u> was number 43 in The
Guardian’s 2015 list of 100 Best Novels of the Twentieth Century.</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’d
also read <u>Sons and Lovers</u> and then, at college, hearing girls
who were not English majors recommending <u>Women in Love</u> with
rhapsodic adjectives , continued Ursula’s story. There aren’t
many scenes that outdid the turnaround of her love luck for me –
when she threw Birkin’s rings at him in the car and wretchedly
complained about men being bullies. </span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span>
</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We
lived in a world of psychology, and to me, Lawrence had the ability
to show how people liberated from conventions had emerging
psychologies to examine.</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Books
I was thrilled to find in First Edition were <u>The
Captain's Doll: Three Novelettes</u> and <u>Aaron's Rod.</u> As <u>The Rainbow</u>
was banned in England, D. H. Lawrence was published in
plain bindings and, as you can see from my recent <u>Aaron's Rod</u>,
the binding and paper were not sturdy.</span></span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJpgX7uwisnsurEhI_m2wTd5i9-Nu5pOdgbthbbNx3y_YRqBoPy58gWf8ip7J8iA7scSuXniIuMET4jnPIWg-Vj3kV54MggR0nVBIqPHNat8WdOnZqrtSVpFrV1YZVwFWElTbCG-_YqfZr/s1600/s-l225+%25284%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJpgX7uwisnsurEhI_m2wTd5i9-Nu5pOdgbthbbNx3y_YRqBoPy58gWf8ip7J8iA7scSuXniIuMET4jnPIWg-Vj3kV54MggR0nVBIqPHNat8WdOnZqrtSVpFrV1YZVwFWElTbCG-_YqfZr/s320/s-l225+%25284%2529.jpg" width="181" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">1923</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><u style="font-family: "georgia",serif; font-size: large;">The
Captain's Doll</u><span style="color: #073763; font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: medium;"> must have been based on Lawrence's wife Frieda,
with whom he did a lot of steep walking when they lived in Italy. I
found it ironic how he could evoke the suspense of love approaching
commitment during pages of walking after he was banned for sexual
content. I'd never been kept reading such an interlude since a
Tolstoy story (“The Snowstorm”) about a carriage ride during a
blizzard which roared on for pages.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir2y343uiQKpB86rIUO-CvZ23oVlS-ciBX8rks2NoP6tq4YEa7_5OdH4KkukaxOSy5sD0_paw5_7akyJ3mJKcfFZ7y7KhzfvGCjFLUip7tWoF0YyOQWi9tzbqJoqWs1i3pd2bS7xOtU9n6/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir2y343uiQKpB86rIUO-CvZ23oVlS-ciBX8rks2NoP6tq4YEa7_5OdH4KkukaxOSy5sD0_paw5_7akyJ3mJKcfFZ7y7KhzfvGCjFLUip7tWoF0YyOQWi9tzbqJoqWs1i3pd2bS7xOtU9n6/s320/001.JPG" width="145" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Aaron's Rod 1922 Secker edition</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><u style="font-family: "georgia",serif; font-size: large;"><br /></u></span>
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><u style="font-family: "georgia",serif; font-size: large;">Aaron's
Rod</u><span style="color: #073763; font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: medium;"> is about a flute player. Somehow Lawrence had divined the
interior of a flute player without being a musician himself. That
was especially displayed when Aaron was separated from his flute in
Italy, the flute being stolen. Aaron had reluctantly walked out on
his family to play the flute without Lawrence imposing any moral to
his novel.</span></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #4c1130;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"The business of art is to reveal the relation </span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">between </span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">man</span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #4c1130;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> and his environment." - D. H. Lawrence</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Luckily
I had read most of the First Editions I acquired. I had doubted <u>The
Plumed Serpent</u>, Lawrence’s writings about the American
Southwest, and found the same thing. Lawrence wrote about Mayan
mythology mixed with Catholicism as if he had lived in Mexico for
years rather than the time he spent there. His Southwest was a
picture of it. If Lawrence hadn't written fiction, he might well have
been famous as a poet. When I open to a poem of his, I'm struck by
that and by the poem. Poem-A-Day, an emailing from the American
Academy of Poets, has included poems of his lately, and they don't
seem to age.</span></span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0vufEaDKY50MquLP7KByaHx8GAhsyPI8kjCpkT3fKLnx55FMKTKmDEoULMCgognqPe1f0UK7oo-bqNbZYBI-GXhH8SqsPw6LX23ip2estV9O4hmXT354ikvgkyEDw3KxjfSExfpI326QH/s1600/file.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0vufEaDKY50MquLP7KByaHx8GAhsyPI8kjCpkT3fKLnx55FMKTKmDEoULMCgognqPe1f0UK7oo-bqNbZYBI-GXhH8SqsPw6LX23ip2estV9O4hmXT354ikvgkyEDw3KxjfSExfpI326QH/s320/file.jpg" width="242" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Pansies (poetry) 1929</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYRgi9ZltNXYaHI8SUDF69T_kSf_h1XRB5oGdeT-5JSOFWapI5SW9ba9cw0VlQ-7SIJNR1KSqTKw9qmhJdtKb-UFM-rlxncLTjz3upOsX_zasvnLIyVDYUImOnuDiucBYINASJ0jUOwcDu/s1600/s-l225+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYRgi9ZltNXYaHI8SUDF69T_kSf_h1XRB5oGdeT-5JSOFWapI5SW9ba9cw0VlQ-7SIJNR1KSqTKw9qmhJdtKb-UFM-rlxncLTjz3upOsX_zasvnLIyVDYUImOnuDiucBYINASJ0jUOwcDu/s320/s-l225+%25281%2529.jpg" width="179" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Love Among the Haystacks and Other Stories 1930</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
had relished Lawrence's short stories about England, and then found
out that some wealthy people sued him for portraying them, they
claimed. This was some sort of lesson. One of my first short stories
was written for a high school creative writing course, the first at
my high school. My story told why a school official had a scar on his
forehead. Before writing it, I had been caught in the hall during
class time. My punishment was to sit all day outside our tough vice
principal's office. My classmates enjoyed the story but when a
creative writing journal was published, my story wasn't in it, only
my poetry. I still believe that fiction in good hands isn’t about
specific people. </span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
sold my D. H. Lawrence collection and now only have another copy of
<u>Aaron's Rod</u> and another copy of Lawrence's poetry for young
people. The books tempted me to read them again, a problem when a
book dealer wants to sell their books in the best of condition. I
suppose there will be another decade like the 60’s when D. H.
Lawrence is the rage again, according to my opinion of him, and when
the prices for his early editions will rise and I will regret selling
my collection.</span></span></span></span></div>
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Katherine L. Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13149740043743870827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1744309722936898768.post-9012718740604947572017-02-16T12:33:00.000-08:002017-02-16T12:33:21.173-08:00Real Photographs and Chicken Substitute Dishes<div class="MsoNormal">
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #20124d;"> </span></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #20124d;">A question I often have at grocery delis:
What is this dish?</span></span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsbqNup3tyl8CltTuNz1fwQhclghwtcKbN_b3OelYqm_OaqT3Gx-gqo34X8rCHTfeON-AK6oEpxSyUxknCD78mMBdXt-pQG24170ArY6CqVGh6VQgDo9_jdJz_QM1oAqKggg4IG72FHZni/s1600/004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsbqNup3tyl8CltTuNz1fwQhclghwtcKbN_b3OelYqm_OaqT3Gx-gqo34X8rCHTfeON-AK6oEpxSyUxknCD78mMBdXt-pQG24170ArY6CqVGh6VQgDo9_jdJz_QM1oAqKggg4IG72FHZni/s320/004.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #20124d;">This is a chicken dish that I made with
tempeh. From a Betty Crocker International cookbook, the recipe is Caribbean, like
Jambalaya except that it includes green olives. How was it? It was OK. Tempeh
is made of soybeans but soybeans don't taste much like chicken. <o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #20124d;">I bought chicken at the Whole Foods Co-op
for years, and still would buy their poultry products. One year as I became
more vegetarian, I decided to try meat substitutes in dishes I liked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #20124d;">Backtracking into the early 1990's, I saw
on PBS television how some farmers were keeping chickens in warehouses and
often caged. The next time I went to the supermarket, I looked at the chicken
and eggs I had been buying and walked away. <o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #20124d;">For me, it was easier to adjust the meat
in my diet than for many other people. As a child, I was goaded to eat meat. There
were only a few meats I liked while I cleaned up the family wooden salad bowl
after everyone had taken their share. I loved tomatoes, spinach, and cheddar cheese. My mother
said she craved tomatoes when she was pregnant with me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #20124d;">After college, I could eat what I wanted.
I remember a Minneapolis cheese market and buying fish. Vegetarianism then was
an eccentric choice. I had understood that I should eat meat at least three
times a week but eventually, I ate it when I wanted. Sometimes that was after days or weeks however surprisingly, I savored meat when I ate it after a hiatus. If meat lost its freshness or I felt obligated to eat it, I used to
throw it out the way I once fed it to the dog under the table.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #20124d;">My experience in the early 1990's proved
to me that a photograph can change a person's diet. In my novel, Tug of the
Wishbone, this becomes a plot element in a woman photographer’s story.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #20124d;">At the Co-op, I wondered about the tempeh
dishes in the deli. I liked tofu but ate it as traditional oriental stir-fry
and sometimes vegetarian stir-fry. The next picture is of shepherd's pie made
with tempeh. This was pretty good, like a ground chicken or turkey although it
lacked the meat flavor. I used <a href="http://lightlife.com/products/organic-garden-veggie-tempeh" target="_blank">LightLife Organic Garden Veggie Tempeh</a> for this.</span></span></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6z0WKacsBtZ4f5bOwWoO5paTdKft_sQ2U5M6aU-LicyFcobC8eMcp75llEAMENquDy8nwkZFwyilK1lmp6Am8gyF1AmO5udzblz-PHZYmhYgt75FbJjCRKRDxqOxtw1nstR_z2IMepTbS/s1600/020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6z0WKacsBtZ4f5bOwWoO5paTdKft_sQ2U5M6aU-LicyFcobC8eMcp75llEAMENquDy8nwkZFwyilK1lmp6Am8gyF1AmO5udzblz-PHZYmhYgt75FbJjCRKRDxqOxtw1nstR_z2IMepTbS/s320/020.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #20124d;">About the time I knew that tempeh
couldn’t really replace chicken, a new “fake” chicken came into the Co-op
grocery. I had to try it. Yes, it was
much better in the Caribbean recipe. The <a href="http://www.tofurky.com/what-we-make/slow-roasted-chickn/lightly-seasoned/" target="_blank">Tofurky Slow Roasted Chick'n</a> (its ingredients are on its page) separates into
bite-size pieces or shreds. It doesn’t really do for recipes that use pieces of
chicken. I thought it worked for Chicken Tetrazzini although the flavor is
zestier than chicken, belying its non-meat processing. One serving of this product contains 27 grams of protein. The average adult needs around 40 grams of protein a day.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUic_rRgC_63vBZaLnrTFy2RwBQb-QfVbPze510YPmafCLAzBn9QdR0GD8EjCinZZHjga3HWh098EyHlJ8Af8C9bX_mcSrVIUUGJ1XzcSE5xpPj-B0VYgYSWhNBJT_WkuUm8VjK6XMnWjx/s1600/IMG_9849_1.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUic_rRgC_63vBZaLnrTFy2RwBQb-QfVbPze510YPmafCLAzBn9QdR0GD8EjCinZZHjga3HWh098EyHlJ8Af8C9bX_mcSrVIUUGJ1XzcSE5xpPj-B0VYgYSWhNBJT_WkuUm8VjK6XMnWjx/s320/IMG_9849_1.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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a lunch or casual supper choice. For me, it was very acceptable in a cock-a-leekie
soup, and in chicken salad for sandwiches, then in a Chinese stir-fry with mushrooms, snow peas, and water chestnuts. It also tasted fine to me in chicken
quesadillas - chicken and cheese fried in a tamale “sandwich.”</span></span></b></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH6RkA-q6OxGe1lb498gAkLHIMoIL1-oJwzSB1rZ5pndC14oRYDlcVCXLM_YNYcYrIdEN9bNoSmAxQo6eeu67DTk94EbXXlLGtwDCCJKkZof7fFp13Dm6Iav-ZsLFXhyphenhypheno0HLd-sk3R7P3l/s1600/IMG_9840_1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH6RkA-q6OxGe1lb498gAkLHIMoIL1-oJwzSB1rZ5pndC14oRYDlcVCXLM_YNYcYrIdEN9bNoSmAxQo6eeu67DTk94EbXXlLGtwDCCJKkZof7fFp13Dm6Iav-ZsLFXhyphenhypheno0HLd-sk3R7P3l/s320/IMG_9840_1.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cock-a-leekie soup with farro </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjEeLa7_h_ehhdiGMfr6Dm-TazUNjzvr5avnfJmVwDT3vm7JrCbp43JK8rYKpYbk1TE6HhhQOueuLWmDKv44r4HFN4GXde5KSqHRDSDSHXq13gSbwuIlXXCNwUvWRpHBT192uh7rVLeowF/s1600/010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjEeLa7_h_ehhdiGMfr6Dm-TazUNjzvr5avnfJmVwDT3vm7JrCbp43JK8rYKpYbk1TE6HhhQOueuLWmDKv44r4HFN4GXde5KSqHRDSDSHXq13gSbwuIlXXCNwUvWRpHBT192uh7rVLeowF/s200/010.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quesadillas with guacamole</td></tr>
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #20124d;">Here I made it into a pot pie. I’m picky
about mashed potatoes in that I like them piping hot, so I look for recipes
where the mashed potatoes are cooked in the oven. This recipe, from a Reader’s
Digest cookbook, was surprisingly tasty. The chicken gravy has a little wine in
it and some yogurt added to the thickened broth at the last. It uses zucchini
rather than peas. Trying it with the chicken substitute, I thought this had the
best chance of fooling an unwary person that they were eating chicken.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqBmxv8PguhC_XOBtDcjm0abVMewSb6vEdJ2z1tQKRTSYvNVJ44xl10rUh6QD9FtOYvst0OBH59ioIodW3ryFtluBS-CNJT4HrS2AFxN2PbY5xQxGwQ3dPxK1edYp00WxZ3-s9sFCcPs-a/s1600/IMG_9857_1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqBmxv8PguhC_XOBtDcjm0abVMewSb6vEdJ2z1tQKRTSYvNVJ44xl10rUh6QD9FtOYvst0OBH59ioIodW3ryFtluBS-CNJT4HrS2AFxN2PbY5xQxGwQ3dPxK1edYp00WxZ3-s9sFCcPs-a/s320/IMG_9857_1.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #20124d;">Another recipe I tried, where the chicken
substitute was blended into strong flavors, was a chicken biriyani, made with
red cabbage and apples. This is a variation on a basic Indian dish, and
attracted me to attempt cooking Indian-style. I hardly noticed that the chicken
was a non-meat substitute, perhaps because of the Indian spice base.</span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #20124d;">While writing Tug of the Wishbone, I
researched poultry and today’s farming. For someone who grew up in an
agricultural region when most animal products were free range and
organic, it was important to have current information. I accepted the inflation
of prices for those products.</span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #20124d;">So far, I don't think chicken substitutes
would satisfy meat eaters. Vegetarian delis and new vegetarian recipes might
work better so that there isn’t an expectation of meat texture and flavor. I
might show what I did with beef and sausage substitute “meat.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
Katherine L. Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13149740043743870827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1744309722936898768.post-79224241093439750352016-12-12T17:26:00.000-08:002017-01-16T12:31:43.054-08:00Announcing Tug of the Wishbone, a novel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="color: #783f04;"><u>Tug of the Wishbone</u>, a novel, is newly published,
and categorized as women's fiction, literary fiction, psychological fiction, and contemporary fiction.
Although there are romances in the book, they are interludes, except in Part
III. Here is the synopsis:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i style="background-color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Maureen doesn’t plan to
repeat the mistakes of her divorced parents. Her 1960's experiences are
presented alongside family leave-takings. When marriage seems imminent, the
leave-takings are with men. Maureen’s photography proves to be a more permanent
involvement. Eventually she struggles with depression and clings to her work
until that is with a man that she would readily date. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Outside their magazine, she
defiantly exposes a large poultry farm while confronting her need for a
constant love relationship. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">With Minnesota settings, the book covers thirty years. Its comic
relief reflects that resource in Maureen.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="color: #783f04;">The first review is in from </span><a href="http://writeramyshannon.wixsite.com/bookshelfreviews/single-post/2016/12/10/Tug-of-the-Wishbone-by-Katherine-L-Holmes" target="_blank"><span style="color: #444444;">Amy's Bookshelf Reviews</span></a><span style="color: #783f04;">: "Wonderful story!...Maureen is one of those characters that you root for, you cry for and laugh along with..."</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="color: #783f04;">I will be doing</span><span style="color: #783f04;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"> <a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/1358907557495390/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0c343d;">a reading</span></a></span><span style="color: #783f04;"> of Tug of the Wishbone at </span><a href="http://www.eatmywordsbooks.com/events/2017/1/28/katherine-l-homestug-of-the-wishbone" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0c343d;">Eat My Words Bookstore</span></a><span style="color: #783f04;"> in Minneapolis on January 28, at 3:00 p.m. Click on the linked words for more information.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #783f04;"><u style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Tug of the Wishbone</u><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14pt;"> began as short stories. Five
were published in literary journals such as</span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> The South Dakota Review</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14pt;"> and </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Frigg.
</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14pt;">I kept writing the short stories about Maureen and went from a collection to a
novel. In Part I, there is time between one chapter and another, as the
chapters concentrate on events. These were revised for continuity. I did not
want to elaborate on Maureen's childhood because the book is for adults and
Maureen's early years are overshadowed by adult issues. In Maureen's teenage
years, her personal story emerges with her independence.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="color: #783f04;">Here is an excerpt from Part II.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="color: #444444;">“Your parents were
selfish,” was Milt’s opinion.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="color: #444444;">He had called the Wednesday
after the Lammerville weekend and, following Valerie’s advice, Maureen had him
over for lasagna. <o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="color: #444444;">“I haven’t had such a good
dinner for weeks,” he complimented her and then they walked from her duplex to
a bench at Como Lake. <o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="color: #444444;">Wondering about his
mother’s cooking, Maureen said that she started cooking Italian food in junior
high when her mother worked evenings at the library. <o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="color: #444444;">“Your parents had four
children?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="color: #444444;">“I have a sister and two
brothers. I’m the youngest. My brothers were pretty much gone when I was
cooking.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="color: #444444;">Then Milt appraised her
parents as selfish. That stymied her as if he had netted something from the
depths of the lake. No one had ever said this and for the moment, he was a
hero.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="color: #444444;">“Of course many adults are
selfish. Me, for instance,” Milt laughed. <o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="color: #444444;">That made him more valiant.
Maureen settled back against his arm and said, “Do you think that people should
stay together for the sake of their children?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="color: #444444;">Milt’s eyes glinted like
the lake. “If everyone made what you did out of a bad situation, this would be
a better world. But you couldn’t say it was a good situation, could you?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="color: #444444;">Maureen wanted to sit
indefinitely in Milt’s good opinion. But he might be the illusion that the city
lake was to a swimmer. “If the world’s so bad, then why do you keep traveling
in it?” she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="color: #444444;">“To shake a pattern, I
guess, and to form another pattern. Researchers have found that it’s all about
patterns. What should I do? Go to medical school? Or enter a graduate program
so that I can get paid to talk? So I try to get published, having the gift of
gab like my father, afraid of the pattern.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="color: #444444;">She didn’t mind being
adrift with him, without a definite destination. If Milt made commitments here,
he would soon be as confined as a lake within a public park.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="color: #444444;">“I had insomnia in
childhood,” Maureen mentioned. “Does that mean a child of mine would have
insomnia?” She was still losing sleep
because of him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="color: #444444;">“My father would probably
give you a pill and regret it later. He’s not the best doctor around, you know.
But the question is, what would you do if your child had insomnia and you
hadn’t solved yours?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="color: #444444;">“My parents didn’t know
what to do because they weren’t insomniacs. So do the researchers only talk to
people in patterns or do they find people who broke the pattern? Like the
teetotaler whose father was an alcoholic?
Or the guy whose father beat him up learning restraint?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="color: #444444;">“The uncharted,” Milt said
in a pleased, older voice. “That’s the goal, breaking a bad pattern. I’ll bet
you’ve never met a researcher. I knew there was a reason why I kept calling
you.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="color: #444444;">She wasn’t configured in
the patterns he was in. “I might get divorced like my parents.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="color: #444444;">“So they say. So they say.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="color: #444444;">“I’d wonder about you but I
guess that’s nothing to worry over.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="color: #444444;"><i>“Too bad I don’t know.”
Milt scratched her thigh. Then he admitted that his attempt to get published in
the Christian Science Monitor
was out of rebelliousness. “I wanted to
see my father’s face if The Monitor
published me. He’s a hard man to see sometimes. It was the article about my
train trip in Russia. But I was interested in the common cold and that got me
wondering about a country having a national disease in the same way they have
literature. The Monitor doesn’t
like the word </i>disease.<i> The Soviet Union has good doctors but they tried to
treat the sick or wrong thing about their society with Communism. That broke
other patterns, like their pattern of publishing great novelists.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="color: #444444;">“That’s like saying that
Germany is manic-depressive. They make toys and had a mania for music. But
their photography is severe and depressing when they aren't an impoverished
nation.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 24.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="color: #444444;">Milt
laughed at that and then he asked Maureen to go on a trip with him.</span><o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #783f04; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 11pt;"> </span><u style="color: #783f04; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Tug of the Wishbone</u><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #783f04;"> is now available at </span><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Tug-Wishbone-Katherine-L-Holmes/dp/0991091159/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1481389119&sr=8-1&keywords=Tug+of+the+Wishbone" target="_blank"><span style="color: #444444;">Amazon</span></a><span style="color: #783f04;"> in
both print and </span><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Tug-Wishbone-Katherine-L-Holmes-ebook/dp/B01MXPMRLI/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1481389119&sr=8-2&keywords=Tug+of+the+Wishbone" target="_blank"><span style="color: #444444;">Kindle</span></a><span style="color: #783f04;"> and at </span><a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/tug-of-the-wishbone-katherine-l-holmes/1125302010?ean=9780991091157" target="_blank"><span style="color: #444444;">Barnes & Noble</span></a><span style="color: #783f04;"> as a paperback. In February,
the paperback will be available from Ingram's and other outlets. Its stunning cover was designed by Bradley Wind.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Katherine L. Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13149740043743870827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1744309722936898768.post-63340017048000169522016-10-24T10:54:00.000-07:002016-10-24T10:54:29.544-07:00Essay: Winter Observations of a Feral Cat Community<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">Here in Duluth,
I observed a feral cat community for some years. I wrote an essay about it fifteen
years ago, and while it made the rounds, it became yesterday’s observation and
research. All of that leads up to this year although there is more
documentation in, I’m sure. A happy note
is that Animal Allies, a shelter here, has reported that they are finding homes
for all of their cats. Here is the essay, a story that began about the time of
Halloween.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="WordSection1">
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">THE CAT IS
ACCUSED BUT WILL WE HEAR SONGBIRDS?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="color: #4c1130;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Seven
years after I began observing stray cats from the second floor of a Victorian
house four blocks from Lake Superior, I read news about the songbird-cides in
the region. During migrations, the trees outside my windows were often
feathered and joyous. A woodsy thicket at the backyard lawn’s end, edged with
lilac, snowberry bushes, and sumac, overran a slope that no one would want to
mow. Below were elderly bird lovers – two sisters and a daughter - that
fed the aerial visitors and also the neighborhood itinerants, stray cats.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #4c1130;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><br clear="all" style="mso-break-type: section-break; page-break-before: always;" />
</span>
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">Birdfeeders
tinseled the trees behind their gingerbread-shingled house and, on the aluminum
roof of their shed, birdseed was continually spread. My second summer, I
watched a stray mother cat shimmy to the shed roof where she taught her kittens
such acrobatics. There they sat Cheshire-like, waiting for birds.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">Near-catches
discouraged the young hunters. They napped on the front door stoop of the old
carriage house, waiting for the old ladies to set out dishes of cat food.
Eventually, the elderly ladies adopted a female kitten, leaving a
calico-Siamese male for me to lure inside during the sleet of November. His
tuna trail ended at a radiator where he was received by my empty-nest female
cat.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-UsIG5UqE-qI3K_cjmYJsC4jqC3zoBmoeaqjklFdw_QT6vQE0Zzv96PGjWHaR__pQeQwJ0U6jB-G6DlHYwjSFRf_U9UOBM3UXnVcgEV3un7Qd7lwU4PXmMCykO33bqmajkk-avs-j9PVR/s1600/D+%2526+L0008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-UsIG5UqE-qI3K_cjmYJsC4jqC3zoBmoeaqjklFdw_QT6vQE0Zzv96PGjWHaR__pQeQwJ0U6jB-G6DlHYwjSFRf_U9UOBM3UXnVcgEV3un7Qd7lwU4PXmMCykO33bqmajkk-avs-j9PVR/s320/D+%2526+L0008.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lev</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: #4c1130;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">The
strays were said to be the progeny of his mother, a calico that was abandoned
when a renter moved. Although the disillusioned female aroused the pity of the
elderly women, she preferred her roving and romance outside, despite Duluth
winters. She could be seen during them with one of a new litter, initiating it
to the snow. Once when I neared the dishes on the door stoop next door, I had to
call her “the fastest claw in the north” and knew that her invisible claw could
operate like a flying fork.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">Previously
I spent ten years in Minneapolis, a city that loved its cats so well that
kittens were given homes hours after being advertised. On seeing another kitten
stumble after its mother’s prints in the snow, I discovered that the elderly women, having grown up with barn cats, were adamant about giving handouts to
the cats rather than turning them in.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><o:p><br /></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">I
introduced myself to Animal Allies in 1995, the year that researchers informed
Wisconsin residents about the 114 feral cats roaming each of many square miles
in the rural areas of their state. The cats were estimated to be killing at
least 7.8 million songbirds per year and upwards of 20 million.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">On
a June day when gardeners were hoeing, my female cat, Desiree, appeared at the
steps with an unmangled songbird. I wondered if I should mount it on a plaque.
All month, she and the stray newcomer, Lev, had huddled at my second-story
windows making decoy chirps at the birds landing on branches a few yards away.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">Instead
of fooling the birds, they became diverted by a lost mouse. During a two-day
cartoon miles-per-hour chase, I observed what researchers had documented. The
cats left their food dishes, caught the mouse while it was running to the
radiator, released it, and returned to their food. When Lev could finally try
his rare mouse, he couldn’t keep it down. The instinct to hunt was independent
of the instinct to eat.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">At
an internet pet board, I asked cat owners if their pets were killing
songbirds. About half of the
respondents reported a prolific hunter, gifts at their door, and bird feathers
under trees. One respondent noticed that “during the summer when West Nile
virus was causing many birds to be sick, cats in the neighborhood were catching
more birds.” In 1998, bird salmonella spread from one birdfeeder to another,
killing songbirds in at least 14 midwestern states.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinkYnAUr5tVtc35xktcpdiP0uuxcah7-XE8pwInL95g55uuFEflCkqa9_Nd4r4C-O39rpSmyjfn2re6tthS-XMroUOJxXqvSsogTOyNV80A9YiHnUtZn3T3OGN6U3m_PQ_BjieuLIlGn2m/s1600/Desi+cropped+snapshot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinkYnAUr5tVtc35xktcpdiP0uuxcah7-XE8pwInL95g55uuFEflCkqa9_Nd4r4C-O39rpSmyjfn2re6tthS-XMroUOJxXqvSsogTOyNV80A9YiHnUtZn3T3OGN6U3m_PQ_BjieuLIlGn2m/s320/Desi+cropped+snapshot.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Desiree at eighteen </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">In
the year 1999, my 18-year-old Desiree died of hyperactivity and old age. About
a year after her wildflower funeral, the elderly ladies next door made an
enigmatic appeal to me. New strays had appeared and they were reluctant to feed
them. One November night, I looked down at their shed and saw the reason for
their occult attitude. A parent and its kitten, both resembling my deceased
cat, had climbed onto the shed. There are many bi-color white cats with black
markings but not so many with a white part in their head fur. Rather than ponder nine-life reincarnations,
I let the elderly ladies off the hook.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">I
was on it and within a week, I had lured the kitten to my back porch steps for
closer examination. Its resemblance to Desiree had already been established one
day when I walked by the gingerbread-shingled house and saw the kitten watching
me from the side of the house. After only a few nights of leaving cat food on
the bottom back step, the kitten ventured to the dish while its parent
hauntingly hung back. The following nights, the two, perched on the shed when I
set out the food, hopped down to come over for café food. One night they
ignored their gourmet food. Near the bird fountain that was now wreathed like
an ice rink was a dark carcass on the snow.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">In
that year, 2000, songbirds in Duluth had diminished from 60 to 54 species. Crow
numbers were up, however, from 524 to 747. A respondent to my internet question
stated, “My cat hates crows. He is black and will sit in the shadow of a tree.
He wiped them out. He never eats them
though.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">Watching
the kitten at the carcass in the snow, I saw other strays slinking to the yard
next door. When the night leapt down earlier in the late afternoon, they came
behind the visiting kitten and in inverse pecking order. I had lured my stray
kitten up to the top back steps where I could watch it eat. Adult cats were
showing up behind it, callow to wild.
First the kitten’s parent, Sweet-Side-Part, warily waited at the bottom
step for her kitten’s leftovers or for her consort, Brown Bounder. With
cat-in-the-hat craftiness, Brown Bounder interrupted the kitten’s eat-and-run
meals. After that, Calico Tail, a stray that I thought was dead, began to
appear after sundown.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">Since
Calico Tail had become a nocturnal creature, I trained my stray to come
before dusk. Disarmingly the kitten peeked around the corner of the house, the
only stray that chanced the porch in the late afternoon light, and then its
boundary where the food dish was eventually set, the hallway carpet. I turned
off the hall lights, hoping the manmade turf might seem trustworthy and that
the warmth inside would be lulling. But the kitten refused to venture beyond
the divide between wild and domestic.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">These
strays did not seem desperate for food. The stray kitten growled fearlessly if
Brown Bounder nosed the food dish, never receiving a scratch or an invitation
to fight. The ferals must have been relying on songbirds for at least 20% of
their diet, what the records said was typical for them. I remembered a Duluth
man telling me when I was in Minneapolis about the rats that boys hunted near
the Duluth harbor.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNhix7ctcp7zR4ZufD4O0l1YazmvY0C2qU-p9Xo6eLG2LCpWrlYaWYsXomhxibL6NhPrA8F31NbugFObAeCSPHZHN0Zg7thUts6kdjIyg1IB_hb4I27l36aWan6ycB_QDHD945OUNOloI7/s1600/ID-100167163.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><br /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">Carole
Hyde, founder of the Stanford Cat Network, said of cats killing songbirds,
“Blaming cats is simplistic.” One of my internet respondents elaborated, “It
has been my personal observation that a kid with a pellet gun can do more
damage in a few hours than a bunch of cats can do in a week.” My stray probably
descended from barn cats that were first brought from Europe for killing
rodents and when squirrels were rife in the trees. According to the journal of
a French priest, Native Americans welcomed the new species into longhouses that
were built on tiers because of night-scavenging mice.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">I
continued to meet my stray at the porch divide, sitting now on the carpet
cross-legged. When the kitten had become accustomed to my presence, I could
determine her gender and see another cat from her clan ascending the steps,
Gray-All-Loafer.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">What
happened next in the murky early evening sent the adrenaline to my hair
follicles if it was no surprise to the little stray. One bushy longhair and
then another ambled from around the corner of the building, presenting
themselves at the bottom of the steps in the way of skunk or raccoon, like shy
bystanders. They were noticeably larger than the other cats, shaggy in their
survival, one a light calico and the other a black and white bi-color. They had
mask markings that made my startled mind think of raccoon-cat mixes. I was sure
that no one in the neighborhood had ever seen these cats. And then, as a
ripping finale, another unknown feline seemed to cartwheel from around the
corner. Its black hair was ungroomed and it was not as docile as the bushy
masked cats. Terror-on-End, I immediately called it, putting the cat dish on
the steps and closing the door to the porch. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNhix7ctcp7zR4ZufD4O0l1YazmvY0C2qU-p9Xo6eLG2LCpWrlYaWYsXomhxibL6NhPrA8F31NbugFObAeCSPHZHN0Zg7thUts6kdjIyg1IB_hb4I27l36aWan6ycB_QDHD945OUNOloI7/s1600/ID-100167163.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNhix7ctcp7zR4ZufD4O0l1YazmvY0C2qU-p9Xo6eLG2LCpWrlYaWYsXomhxibL6NhPrA8F31NbugFObAeCSPHZHN0Zg7thUts6kdjIyg1IB_hb4I27l36aWan6ycB_QDHD945OUNOloI7/s320/ID-100167163.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Image courtesy of voraorn at FreeDigitalPhotos.net</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">Even
though I dreaded what might come after <i>them</i>,
I had to have a second look at these obscure creatures before I insisted on my
stray coming in the daylight. The bushy cats were as big as small raccoons, an
animal that I had often seen in the backyard. Their masks were singular because
one was a cream-orange and the other was black and white. Luckily, I had
inspired no panic in them. Having had enough of being astounded at the
longevity of cats that I thought were dead and at the appearance of tough,
nocturnal cats, doubting what I was seeing, I called around about borrowing a
live trap for catching the little stray.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">The
elderly ladies believed the outdoor cat community was diminishing from
attrition or disease - feline leukemia. Yet the cats I saw did not look thin in
the January weather. I speculated that the little stray, staying away during a
blizzard and then appearing again, already had a benefactor. And I speculated
that the bushy cats that came in a couple were well-fed fat pets, Norwegian
forest cats or Maine coon mixes. Still,
a pet owner would have to like their unruly bushy hair. A study done by Alley
Cat Allies in the District of Columbia found that a feral cat community took
ten years to die out.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">I
actually hoped that my stray would weaken in the worsening weather. Not having
located a live trap, I attempted an inexpensive strategy. I rigged a rope from
the back porch door handle to my hands and then walked to the inside second
story steps. Sitting on the steps, I practiced pulling and found that with one
yank, the porch door shut.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">Some
days later, the little stray was blissfully eating tuna, two paws at the hall
carpet, when I destroyed her trust, swinging the porch door shut behind her.
She catapulted to the inside hall wall, back to the porch, and then clawed her
way up and down the sides of the porch windows. She was like a ping pong ball
and I was clumsy in a turtleneck, gloves, and glasses. After she scaled the
wood on the porch door, she fell down on the door handle. Within seconds, she
was out again. This only reminded me of my first cat, Desiree, and how she
climbed curtains before she escaped into winter, liking an hour in the
snow. She must have come from barn
cats, I now surmised, wanting to examine the look-alike stray further.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">While
I brooded over this, another phantom killer was being accused of the
songbird-cides. A Wisconsin study done during the 1990’s found that
communication towers had become a dark Tolkien-like force, luring songbirds to
their red airplane lights like moths. Over a period of 15 years, 100,000 songbirds
flew into one Wisconsin TV tower and perished.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">Returning
to Animal Allies, I found that they had no quarrel with the Bird Conservatory
about the treatment of feral cats. They
agreed about a kindly incarceration. It was better than what my feral had been
enduring – days in a cage-like space under a porch or a rotten board where the
heightening snow put a heavy lock at the exit.
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">My
hexed project wasn’t getting the cooperation of a new landlord and a
dog-preferring tenant. The old landlord was so sympathetic to strays that he
and his wife had taken a kitten home. By spring, Terror-on-End was hanging
around in the daytime, definitely alarming a few people on the block.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">One
late afternoon, the little stray found her food inside a live trap, a cage that
I hastily transported up into the hallway. I was a novice with this equipment,
apparently not having secured the trap door, and as the cage rocked up the
steps, the wild stray shot out of it and down the steps to the basement where
she hid herself. Although I called the animal shelter for help on a weekend,
the dog-preferring tenant, accompanied by his dog, slyly opened the basement
door that lead to the outside. Strangely, some of the other ferals appeared and
waited outside the basement door.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">While
securing another apartment, I found out that the little stray had a beautiful
litter with either Gray-All-Loafer or Terror-on-End or both. The kittens romped
in a cottage garden and the elderly ladies, more housebound than ever, thought
them adorable. I made one last futile effort to lure the mother and/or her
kitten(s) inside during the de-thicketing of the yard. A concrete driveway was
planned to replace some of the lawn.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">Fewer
songbirds would visit that yard, lilac-less soon. Duluth’s decrease in songbirds
was reflecting the continual urban development of southern states, especially
the place where songbirds wintered, Florida.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">Summer
evenings, I used to sit on the back porch steps and observe gulls, pigeons, and
cats. Swamp buttercups, tiger lilies, hawksweed, and cornflowers were the lawn
where damselflies, skunk, raccoon, marsh hawks, and even a fox passed through.
In the winter, a great northern owl sailed past my windows where below, a
kitten left its paw prints in the snow.</span></span><br />
<br /></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNfdiVtzMVjKj6UQI_dxfmoK1gDl6aaxCDlywt4tisZtiaQHeXuaSnLDV-q78-RqfkO2c7ixm7gU6fXjqJ7NKuttMS6RvWqcExdX3tnJyrOxliz_AFhMzMKl2scP8bllL1vpRiA-WbSZap/s1600/ID-100400323.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNfdiVtzMVjKj6UQI_dxfmoK1gDl6aaxCDlywt4tisZtiaQHeXuaSnLDV-q78-RqfkO2c7ixm7gU6fXjqJ7NKuttMS6RvWqcExdX3tnJyrOxliz_AFhMzMKl2scP8bllL1vpRiA-WbSZap/s320/ID-100400323.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Image courtesy of saphatthachat at FreeDigitalPhotos.net</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;">After
ten years of watching stray cats, I agreed with research – that stray cats will
not simply die out even though they are a result of human expansion. Now they
are adjusting to northern Minnesotan winters, having found new ways of
surviving. The belly of a parked car is a hearth for kittens. Cats shelter
themselves under porches and behind the holes-in-the-walls of deteriorating
buildings. Car owners who joke about gunning cats from under their engines have
probably not estimated the number of nocturnal cats that warm up after the car
owners have gone inside a heated building. If the neighborhood people didn’t
believe me, they only had to put out food every night and wait until just after
dark. Longhaired cats, compact muscular cats, cats acting within a community,
cats larger than the ordinary – all of these were surviving sub-zero nights
like the shy mammals that creep about the woods and multiply.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><o:p><br /></o:p></span></span></div>
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Katherine L. Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13149740043743870827noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1744309722936898768.post-79774563396649064222016-09-03T18:44:00.001-07:002016-09-03T20:49:33.602-07:00Early Reading and How It Happened<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;">Although there has
for decades been much discussion about reading and the teaching of reading,
I’ve held my own opinions since I was a child. I didn’t learn to read in
school. In my town, there was one other girl my age that went to kindergarten
reading. </span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I grew up in a house
with books. I also spent my early years in a house with five other siblings
while my parents separated and divorced. </span><span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="color: #20124d; font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Of course I sat on a few laps with a book and
got a read-to at bedtime but that was hardly with the intention of teaching me
to read early.</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS6RvG_Cacx5-vrcwd5x1n5u6AHmOVeq_JbudLmAXNjCbBxzzONtZBbhAn1e5uZT92LSjhcjfJr3SNBGbfPFzLR6Ml_aQcnR9JRPa7QMfMnyhzKAAVmUGpbUXzMGf0i87eYjh5wRKqY0hs/s1600/41ESLy-EjxL._SX376_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><b><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS6RvG_Cacx5-vrcwd5x1n5u6AHmOVeq_JbudLmAXNjCbBxzzONtZBbhAn1e5uZT92LSjhcjfJr3SNBGbfPFzLR6Ml_aQcnR9JRPa7QMfMnyhzKAAVmUGpbUXzMGf0i87eYjh5wRKqY0hs/s200/41ESLy-EjxL._SX376_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" width="151" /></b></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><b>How did I start
reading early? I will always <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">think</span> that it
was The Book. It was The Story<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">.<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> And it was the voice.</span></span> It was <u>The
Tale of Peter Rabbit</u>. As my story
goes, once that book was read to me, I begged for it to be read again and
again, with anyone in the family who would read it. Then I read along with my
finger on each word until I had memorized the book. It didn’t matter that the book
had a few impossible words such as <i>implored</i>,
<i>exert</i>, and <i>chamomile</i>. Somehow I began
to recognize easier words such as <i>the</i>,
<i>a</i>, and <i>blue. <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> </span></i><o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><b><i></i></b></span></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0_GLk0t5S7BMMq0Oan5yYKm7MX26i63_nGkCnvTKgMz3f9JLVLX999smGtHNGhmph_Al2tJIXGFUua87ajESf9N99OeiSKTG8qe4hCv7ZjV71DyfBZCKh25T64R9_OcO7obqQ4c7nLkMI/s1600/Lonely_Doll_Cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><b><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0_GLk0t5S7BMMq0Oan5yYKm7MX26i63_nGkCnvTKgMz3f9JLVLX999smGtHNGhmph_Al2tJIXGFUua87ajESf9N99OeiSKTG8qe4hCv7ZjV71DyfBZCKh25T64R9_OcO7obqQ4c7nLkMI/s200/Lonely_Doll_Cover.jpg" width="138" /></b></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;"><b>Where is this book?</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i><span style="color: #20124d;"><b></b></span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i><span style="color: #20124d;"><b></b></span></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><b>Peter Rabbit led to
other favorite books. I was a firm <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">fan of</span> Dr. Seuss although when I got to
school I found out that the school librarian had banned him. Because I was reading Grimm and children’s
novels, she decided to confine me to the
picture book shelves for a time. She
wanted to see what I would pick out. She
would say, “Why don’t you like this book?” and
“I want you to find a book on these shelves that you like.”<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><b></b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><b></b></span></span></div>
<div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsGMlBZyMQEXKNdXL9HBA36MEJktUGiLHClnRgumisi2-4miNB5WOkLbBRZ6Yf3XxeEpihiz38T-w0nGkgASDcS29C0agYqwOEJpR9LwZ-04F_9wGy22B2DNrJ0Ohed02Ht5O8Ace7irtA/s1600/51dYLc1uKsL._AC_US160_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><b><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsGMlBZyMQEXKNdXL9HBA36MEJktUGiLHClnRgumisi2-4miNB5WOkLbBRZ6Yf3XxeEpihiz38T-w0nGkgASDcS29C0agYqwOEJpR9LwZ-04F_9wGy22B2DNrJ0Ohed02Ht5O8Ace7irtA/s1600/51dYLc1uKsL._AC_US160_.jpg" /></b></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><b>I used <u>One Fish,
Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish</u> to help another child with reading. That was
because I was appalled at Dick and Jane when I got to school. Their story was
usually boring or nonexistent. <o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><b>I recall that the
newspaper became a learning tool. I would sit next to a sibling on the couch
and demand to know what the words were in ads and in headlines. Pictures went
with them so there was some curiosity. A
brother had a newspaper route, and I still remember being the first to see the
funnies. That was reading development.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><b>The public library
was about four blocks away. As soon as I could, I walked there. I remember the children’s librarians being
wonderful to me. They became tutors and that was because the children’s room was
often pretty much empty. They would try out new books on me and found my next
books. I got an early pass to the adult section.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><b>All of that made me
think that it was not about the words and the ease of reading. For me, it was about the material. In sixth
grade, my language arts teacher challenged me to read<u> David Copperfield</u>.
I read it in two weeks, fifty pages a day, and it made quite an impression on
me. Never would I forget the oozing in the law office. I knew I was in a habit of guessing
words from the context and as they repeated, I learned them. I was too lazy to
reach for a dictionary but that was always possible. I think I read dialogue to
get the story and probably skipped many paragraphs. </b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><b>But isn’t that the way that
humans learn spoken language? A toddler begins picking out words, recognizing
them in conversation, and adding to their verbal stash. Out of the desire to
talk with people in the room.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhufNVFHNOnt3rVr7VKFmbcbq2gy37mQTQQ_CblW-nhvHXK3P-8TOEjksHZZvoCw4foJt_lst8m8jO87x9xsEw_t0Y4tQlMfY5zr1782cgl_Hb48__FfuDuXmUS2o_RmFqTCLtCTYlEU7FS/s1600/The+Winged+Watchman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhufNVFHNOnt3rVr7VKFmbcbq2gy37mQTQQ_CblW-nhvHXK3P-8TOEjksHZZvoCw4foJt_lst8m8jO87x9xsEw_t0Y4tQlMfY5zr1782cgl_Hb48__FfuDuXmUS2o_RmFqTCLtCTYlEU7FS/s200/The+Winged+Watchman.jpg" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1960's Book Club book</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><b>I cannot recall discussing
a children’s novel with another child though I loved them and had a book club
subscription. When I was in junior high school, I knew plenty of girls who
cruised the adult section of the library, read books outside of school, and
discussed them. <o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><b>I still retained a
love for children’s novels because of their creativity and their
unpredictability. So even though I knew that grade school kids didn’t read
after school - because they were being drummed with books and words 35-hours a
week - I still wanted to write them later on. It is a delightful genre. <o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<b style="color: #20124d; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">That, of course, led
to my collecting children’s editions. Somehow I had moved into adult life
without taking any of my books. I have a few back now and their condition from
my old bookshelf makes them saleable but not that desirable. Good condition in
collectible children’s books is an infrequent find. Those books are the ones
that are soon gone – early editions of Pooh, Dr. Dolittle, George MacDonald,
The Lonely Doll, Horton Hears a Who, 1800’s Louisa May Alcott, The Little
Prince, Little Black Sambo. As a child, I hadn’t known that many of the books I
was reading were books read in my parents’ generation. Perhaps I wouldn’t have
read them if I had known that.</b></div>
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Katherine L. Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13149740043743870827noreply@blogger.com0