Guess Who's Back? Back Again...

Long time, no write... To tie up some loose ends: the house deal worked out. We ended up taking it, and we got the seller to pay for the carpet removal. Then we shelled out a bundle to have the floors redone (they really really needed it). Near as I can tell so far, it's all been worth it. We have a nice place, and we all (people and animals) seem to like it.

News: After a two-and-a-half year fight, my father's second wife died from complications created by larangeal cancer. William and I attended the funeral in North Carolina in late July, and Dad has begun the slow process of moving up here with us. We are enjoying his company, but we are so sorry for his loss.

Other News: We made the first cut in the Nicholl Fellowship. Out of a record-breaking 6380 entries, 321 screenplays advanced to the quarter-finals. Slide is one of them. We are very excited, and of course, hopeful that we might make it to the semi-finals. (Between 110 and 120 entries will advance)

Travel: Tomorrow I head back to North Carlina with Dad to start wrapping up the selling of his house and the moving of his stuff, not to mention bringing his 2 beautiful cats home to Rochester. I will have limited Web access for a while, but I plan to pick up this blog upon my return. I even plan to start writing again soon -- with luck, when I get back, or maybe even a little before.

Stay tuned.

Counting All My Blessings

So many reasons to be thankful...

March coming to a close.

Great friends who provided incredibly useful feedback on the Slide screenplay.

The possibilities of a new house.

The extended network of friends all over the country who are always so supportive.

The five kitties and the puppy.

The family members who offer their expertise and tremendous wit in equal measure.

The chance to get to know Dad again.

The way Jeannine, William and I work so well with one another, whether we're on vacation or buying a house together.

Where Friendly Paths Intersect...Looks Like Home for a Time

That's Hermann Hesse paraphrased in the title of this post, just to give the author his due...

I've been thinking about home quite a bit lately. The one I came from, the one I went to, the one I have now.

The North Country haunts me; how could it not? The setting of The Long Black Veil reveals some of my ambiguity about where I grew up, though in the end, the fictional town (Ballantyne) is truly a composite of many towns small and large that institutionalize a quiet racism while pretending morality.

The setting for The Pirate's Bride is even further north, and colder, its desolation as much a part of the tale as the characters. That bleak winter landscape leaves its mark on the people who live there and who have witnessed its unique frozen beauty. It's a fascinating hell.

And though I lived there for eight endless years, it's highly unlikely that I would ever set a story in Oklahoma. I'm sure many people feel at home there, but I never did. The lessons I learned there brought me back East, though, so I am grateful for the knowledge gained.

Maybe someday I'll write about where I live now, though this place does not entirely feel like home either. Maybe I'll never have a true home, except perhaps in the pages of my stories. Or maybe home is less about place and more about a person in whom we find peace and understanding. My husband has given me that.

And maybe that's enough.