When Willow is born and her mother dies moments later, only the narrator of this spellbinding debut novel knows the death isn't from complications of childbirth. Amelie-Anais, buried on the Nebraska hilltop where the family home resides, tells the story of deceit, survival, and love from beyond the grave. Following Willow's life and Willow's incredible passion to paint despite loneliness, a physical handicap, and being raised by a father plagued with secrets, Amelie-Anais weaves together the lives of four enigmatic generations.
*White Mask is Willow’s first successful painting. It’s not successful for its execution—talent never reaches an end—but successful for its ability to move her. That’s what good art does. The painting symbolizes her fears, and it won’t let her shut down in them. She is afraid of her authentic self, afraid of being so vulnerable. What she learns is that not being authentic IS shutting down. It’s self-attack. White Mask is a mirror. A promise too, of her ability to step out of the dark place of fear. She’s the only one who can take off the mask. In this scene she’s still scared, but understanding the mirror is a huge step.
This passage reminds me of a passage in Frantumaglia by Elena Ferrante: "It's a shortcut to set aside what is formidable about women, to imagine us merely as organisms with good feelings, skilled masters of gentility. Maybe that's useful for encouraging us, for political growth, but those who create literature have to make hostility, aversion, and fury visible, along with generous sentiments. It's their task, they have to dig inside, describe women from close up..."
It's a tough political world at the moment. I want to take a break from the news, settle in with an old journal of my great aunt's, and reflect on how she flourished despite the burdens in her life. She did it through her art. Of course, life through art. Today I will paint more, write more.
Le Guin has been my role model for years, and in our current political climate, it's more vital than ever to listen to her words. "I want to hear your judgments. I am sick of the silence of women. I want to hear you speaking all the languages, offering your experience as your truth, as human truth, talking about working, about making, about unmaking, [...} about taking in seed and giving out life, about thinking, about what women do; about who presses the buttons and what buttons get pressed."
So often we fail to see the heaviness we carry is a choice. We believe it benefits us, even while it does the opposite.
The conversation must be kept alive. The stories told. They give courage and voice to previously silent victims and save an untold number of innocent sisters.
"When I speak of Goddess I am in no way referring to an entity 'out there,' who appears miraculously as a fairy godmother and turns the pumpkin into a carriage. I am in no way referring to a Goddess 'back there' as if I participate in resurrecting an ancient religion. In the sense that I am woman I see Goddess in myself." Nelle Morton
The temperature is below zero here in Omaha and the ground is covered with snow. In honor of the season, here is a cold scene to chill you just a bit more. I hope everyone continues to have a Happy Holiday Season. Happy Reading.
Not so long ago in history, women who healed the sick, demonstrated intuitive powers, or knew the properties of plants were considered evil.Church leaders needed a label to disparage and suppress such women. They chose "witches." Matilda Joslyn Gage writes: "The witch was in reality the profoundest thinker, the most advanced scientist of those ages." Of course, I had to add one such special woman to my novel.
Select verses, carefully lifted from scriptures, are constantly used to advance those already in power and to justify their being there. Why are the priests and religious leaders not howling? Why are they not screaming black lives matter? Why are they not screaming women’s lives matter? I think it’s because they can still get away with not doing so. They can hide behind church elders and tradition. And so it’s up to us, who can no longer endure the lies, to demand honesty from them. Silence is still heard. Silence says agreement. Silence wounds. Remember, you can read 25% of Farthest House for free on Bookgrabbr
I’m reading a wonderful book: American Madonna by John Gatta. It’s a study of “images of divine women in literary culture.” This morning I came across a passage in it from Nathaniel Hawthorne. I was surprised. Here’s Hawthorne’s Cloverdale in The Blithedale Romance. Remember, this was written in 1852. “Oh, in the better order of things, Heaven grant that the ministry of souls may be left in charge of women! The gates of the Blessed City will be thronged with the multitude that enter in, when that day comes! The task belongs to woman. God meant it for her. He has endowed her with the religious sentiment in its utmost depth and purity, refined from that gross, intellectual alloy, with which every masculine theologist…” and it goes on. I thought of this passage in Farthest House.
It’s hard to look at the images of what happened in Virginia and see the angry crowds of supremacists. It’s hard to believe fellow human beings can be so brainwashed, so afraid of magnificent creation, they'd view the color of a person’s skin as a reason to hate. Jonah wrestled with the same prejudice in the 1960s, afraid to marry the love of his life because she was white. Afraid of how prejudiced against him might make her suffer rejection even bodily harm. Now over fifty years later, if he were alive to see the national news, he might wonder if anything has changed at all.
This bubble is dedicated to my father.I’d pay anything for another afternoon with him, watching a Cub’s game on television.I modeled Papa in Farthest House after him. When I say so, I hear how the fictional Papa — though he has all the myriad aspects of a great character — was not always a good man. He drank too much and lost his temper too often. He was misunderstood and didn’t care what others thought. Being misunderstood and reticent with family secrets, people drew erroneous conclusions. My father wasn’t troubled by secrets in his past (though who really knows another’s thoughts) but he was strained with feeding and clothing fifteen children.On a small farm where failed crops, failed prices, and broken machinery were a constant worry. After he died, an ex-neighbor said to me he’d been a bad father anyway. I was stunned by her comment and the grin on her righteous face. I wondered where she got her information. Like Willow in Farthest House, I never doubted, not for one minute, that my father loved me. Just as Willow sees here Papa loves her. Isn’t that the best father in the world-the father who makes his child feel loved? To all papas out there, Happy Father’s Day. Don’t forget, read 25% of Farthest House free on BookGrabbr.com
"The magical realist vision exists at the intersection of two worlds, at an imaginary point inside a double-sided mirror that reflects in both directions." Wendy B. Faris
This weekend I spoke at a local library. In a room full of people, I covered many aspects of writing and publishing. But the questions that brought out the most discussion were these: Which of your deceased relatives do you feel is most interested in your life? Why? Do you feel their presence at joyful times or stressful times?
Morgan Freeman would make a wonderful Jonah. Don't you think? He even keeps bees.
"The moon, as daughter of the Great Mother, is known as the Triple Goddess. (....)She is, as the New or Waxing Moon, the White Goddess of birth and growth. She is, as the Full Moon, the red Goddess of love and battle. She is, as the Old or Waning Moon, the Black Goddess of death and divination." The Great Cosmic Mother by Monica Sjoo and Barbara Mor I love this description and capture the spirit of the old woman in Luessy and this excerpt.
There is a new order falling into place. People are looking for their personal truths, finding their pathways and answers. Decades ago, Lewis Strang, one of the first new-age thinkers wrote, “…receptivity is accomplished when one is convinced [her] views and visions are sound. [S]he must do more than listen, more than read, more than say, “I accept.” [S]he must go through an individual, intelligent thought-process that is distinctly [her] own—original and creative….” Are people realizing, albeit often subconsciously, that they not only need their own revelations—these revelations can be trusted? Each must find the courage to ride off into the darkest part of their forest in search of their Holy Grail.
In honor of Juneteenth, the horrible killings in South Carolina, and the black churches being burned, I share a bit of Jonah's life.
“Now I know what a ghost is. Unfinished business, that's what.” ― Salman Rushdie, The Satanic Verses. When I read this quote, I knew he was speaking of Amelie, kept earth-bound by the weight of her unfinished business.
In honor of all the mothers and grandmothers who nurture not just their own children, but the world.
Religion versus living a spiritual life.
I offer this bubble in honor of Women's Day, and all the women, who even 150 years ago were quietly fighting back.
I'm not surprised by the current block buster movie and the success of the books. I had a lot of fun writing the love story between Willow and Clay. Their lives are not easy--especially living with someone who wishes them dead--but their intimate moments allow them to put that all side. At least temporarily. Enjoy the excerpt.
We have all had moments of inspiration that change us in an instant. Often these moments come on the heels of grief, as though the grief itself was necessary to break down our walls. Oprah often jokes about this sort of learning, saying, “God, don’t teach me nothing today.” We don’t know why misfortunes fall on us, but then somewhere in our darkest time, the clouds part—if only for a second—and our lives take a new turn. It’s not exactly a near-death experience, but we are shown something lasting from beyond the veil of our current lives. In this excerpt from Farthest House, Willow, on the heels of tragedy, is hit with a realization of that magnitude. She was raised Catholic, and though she no longer holds any affiliation to organized religion, she remembers walking into churches and seeing the statues and stained glass honoring saints. Individuals she’d been taught to hold in awe. Suppose, just suppose, she could give to others the gift of seeing themselves as Divine. As their highest spiritual selves: the pinnacle she believes all souls eventually reach. She also believes everyone who’s seen such an image of himself must be changed. When a person’s divinity is understood and experienced, how can they act otherwise?
"White Mask" is Willow’s first successful painting. It’s successful not for its masterful execution—she’s still learning how to paint—but it’s successful because it moves her. I really believe that’s the purpose and value of all art. The painting is a symbol of her fears; she sees that. It represents her inability to be her authentic self. She is afraid of being vulnerable and attacked again. What she must learn is that not being authentic, hiding one’s self, is a form of self-attack. I have incredible belief in a person’s ability to change. I’ve seen it in my own life. So I don’t want "White Mask" to serve as a reminder of how poorly she’s doing. I want the painting to be a mirror, but filled with hope and a promise of what waits for her when she steps out of the dark place in her psyche. In the scene, Willow realizes these things. She still lacks the courage to make the leap, but she’s looking in that mirror, which is a huge first step.
Readers often ask me if I really think those words are true. Then before I can speak, they go on, "I know they're true." Everyone has a fantastic experience to share when they are open to this sort of thing. The trick is staying open.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish