Fall into A Good Book

When I buy a book to read, I don't want it to be just a mystery, a romance, or an adventure. I want it to include some of each of those. I understand authors are supposed to know their genre, and follow the rules of that genre. But consider this analogy.

There was a time when speakers were categorized as motivational speakers, or humorists, or by their topics. But the truth is that an outstanding speech combines all of those, motivation, humor, topic facts, and entertainment.

So it is with good books. If a book is only a mystery, only a romance, I consider it thin.

And I want to see flawed characters. Characters who may have some cognitive dissonance going on, holding opposing attitudes or beliefs at the same time, like the heavy woman who jogs to the doughnut shop, or the boat captain who gets seasick. Come on. People are like that. But in the end, I want to see truth, and justice. Even if it's the possibility of a future Phoenix rising from the ashes. And I think most readers want that.

Here is one of my favorite poems, by one of my favorite poets, David McCord. It sums up for me, what makes a good book.

 Books Fall Open.

“Books fall open,

you fall in,

delighted where

you've never been;

hear voices not once

heard before,

reach world on world

through door on door;

find unexpected

keys to things

locked up beyond

imaginings...”
- David McCord

They became their own miracle

It's a rare moment that we experience anything positive in the news. But I have to say, I've become a fan of CBS Sunday Morning Show.

Last week, Steve Hartman on Sunday Morning covered a love story that made me grab my tissue box. And it's something that will encourage you too.

A newly married woman, Sonia Vallabh, discovered that she carried a rare genetic disease, called Genetic Prion Disease. She knew the disease would kill her by age fifty.

So she and her husband Eric decided to fight it. First, they googled the disease, a rapid and progressive form of dementia with no cure.

Neither Sonia nor Eric had any medical education. He was a transportation technician, and Sonia had recently graduated from law school. But that didn't stop them. They signed up for biology courses, and kept their day jobs. They intended to learn everything they could about the disease.

Then they were accepted into a PhD program at Harvard, and worked at the prestigious Broad Institute in Cambridge Massachusetts.

They are now legitimate scientists, working side by side everyday in their lab, searching for a cure, and they are quickly becoming leading experts in their field of research. If they find a cure, it will not only save Sonia, but about seven thousand other people as well.

But when Sonia turned to her husband during the interview and said,

“The miracle of my lifetime is that we met. That will always be the greatest miracle to me,” I lost it. Some people are life warriors. They fight their way through obstacles and overcome challenges. Perhaps this video will inspire you too. I hope so.

Goody Wren (A flash fiction story)

“Take what you want. It all goes,” Mom called.

“Okay.” I said from my late Grandmother's disheveled attic.

It was May. But sweat beaded my forehead as if it were steamy July. I reached for the limp puppet, and shuddered at it's icy stare, and garish red lips. My eyes fell on a note pinned to it.

“Do not discard or abuse me

or you'll have trouble and shame.

I'm a living personality

And Goody Wren is my name.”

Quickly, I closed the puppet back inside its suitcase, feeling irrational guilt for suffocating it.

“Creepy!”

“What's creepy?” My sister Emily stepped off the pull down ladder and approached me.

“Are you talking to yourself? What's in there?” Emily pointed to the suitcase.

Before I could stop her, she opened the case, squashed the puppet under her arm, and hurried to the ladder. Then came the crash followed by Emily’s scream. At the foot of the ladder, she lay blubbering, and grasping her ankle.

Mom and dad raced along the hallway, and helped Emily to the car.

“We'll drive you to the clinic,” mom said. “You'll be all right.”

Curiously, the car wouldn't start. Dad opened the hood, and checked the battery.

In the kitchen, I filled a plastic bag with ice for Emily, when Muffy, our Beagle, began barking at the hallway. When I investigated, I found the puppet crumpled on the floor.

Gently, I positioned Goody Wren on Gram's recliner, and then ran outside with the ice.

Suddenly, the engine cranked, and Dad drove off with Mom and Emily.

I stayed at Gram's with Muffy.

Two hours later, Goody Wren and the note, were folded inside the suitcase and safely hidden under an attic floorboard. Muffy snored. And Emily's ankle? Barely sprained.

Book Characters

Tribute