THE WEIGHT OF SILENCE

There is no one who comes here that does not know this is a true map of the world, with you there in the center, making home for us all.
Brian Andeas

Louis and I see you nearly at the same time. In the woods, through the bee trees whose heavy, sweet smell will forever remind me of this day, I see flashes of your pink summer nightgown that you wore to bed last night. My chest loosens and I am shaky with relief. I scarcely notice your scratched legs, muddy knees, or the chain in your hand. I reach out to gather you in my arms, to hold you so tight, to lay my cheek on your sweaty head. I will never wish for you to speak, never silently beg you to talk. You are here. But you step past me, not seeing me, you stop at Louis’ side, and I think, You don’t even see me, it’s Louis’ deputy sheriff’s uniform, good girl, that’s the smart thing to do. Louis lowers himself toward you, and I am fastened to the look on your face. I see your lips begin to arrange themselves and I know, I know. I see the word form, the syllables hardening and sliding from your mouth with not effort. Your voice, not unsure or hoarse from lack of use but clear and bold. One word, the first in three years. In an instant I have you in my arms and I am crying, tears dropping many emotions, mostly thankfulness and relief, but tears of sorrow mixed in. I see Petra’s father crumble. Your chosen word doesn’t make sense to me. But it doesn’t matter, I don’t care. You have finally spoken.
The Weight of Silence
Heather Gudenkauf

Mama, can this lady write! I am looking forward to her next book. I totally recommend this. I could hardly stand to put it down.

MY DETACHMENT

I am the author of Ivory Fields, a novel. I wrote it soon after I came home from Vietnam. Not many have read the book. After thirty-three publishers turned it down, I lit a fire in a trash barrel behind a rented house in Iowa and burned up all my copies of the manuscript. Years and years went by, and the book became part of my distant memories of being a soldier, memories that would creep up on me when I was washing dishes or turning a key in a lock, memories that I wished away. Then one morning another copy of the novel arrived in the mail from an old friend who was cleaning out his files, and I realized I was glad to have it back. From time to time I look at it and I think.
My Detachment
Tracy Kidder

We listened to this while driving to the beach, and both CA and I were mesmerized. This is a perspective on Vietnam that you don't usually find. Kidder was an honorable soldier, even though he dealt with uncertain feelings about being a soldier and the war itself. He is self-deprecating and modest, to a fault. A wonderful read. We are recommending it to our son and son-in-law and other friends, as well.

FATAL LAST WORDS

Up with the bloody lark? she murmured. I don't hear the little bastard among that lot. He's still sat on the nest, sensible bird that he is.

She was on the move so early that the dawn chorus was still singing at full volume; robins, blackbirds, wrens, pigeons and even the occasional seagull, all doing their best to wake the elegant old grey city from its slumbers.

And, a very interestingly worded dinner invitations on pg. 5.

Hi Randy it began. Bob and I are finally holding that informal dinner party for four that I asked you about. You said you might manage an evening off next Thursday; 7:30 for 8, ambulances at midnight. We hope that you and Denzel will be able to join us. Nothing fancy on the table, nobody posh around it, just the four of us. Cheers, Aileen.
Quintin Jardine

TRUE COLORS

What is passion? It is surely the becoming of a person... In passion, the body and the spirit seek expression... The more extreme and the more expressed that passion is, the more unbearable does life seem without it. It reminds us that if passion dies or is denied, we are partly dead and that soon, come what may, we will be wholly so.
John Boorman, film director
quoted on the opening page of
True Colors
by Kristin Hannah

I've just started reading this book, but this opening page knocked me out.

THE MELTING SEASON

I was on the edge of something dire. All it took was a little push. That was when I realized what needed to happen. I can take it all and no one can stop me. And there was nothing left to do afterward but get the hell out of town.
Jami Attenburg
The Melting Season

THE FEAST OF LOVE

Every relationship has at least one really good day. What I mean is, no matter how sour things go, there's always that day. That day is always in your possession. That's the day you remember. You get old and you think: well, at least I had that day. It happened once. You think all the vairables might just line up again. But they don't. Not always. I once talked to a woman who said, "Yeah, that's the day we had an angel around."
(Chapter Two first paragraph)
The Feast of Love
Charles Baxter

JULIET, NAKED

They had flown from England to Minneapolis to look at a toilet. The simple truth of this only struck Annie when they were actually inside it: apart from the graffiti on the walls, some of which made some kind of reference to the toilet's importance in musical history, it was dank, dark, smelly and entirely unremarkable. Americans were very good at making the most of their heritage, but there wasn't much even they could do here.
Juliet Naked
Nick Hornby

And, another line I particularly like...

It had taken her about a minute and a hlaf to work out that, if Duncan every looked at the fridge, he would have not idea who he was staring at, and the ironies of that were good enough and large enough to eat with a knife and fork, on their own, with no accompanying bitterness.