Monday, March 15, 2010

on writing


Did I ever tell you where I picked that up? By all means,
have a seat. I have coffee on, you must stay, my friend. No, not there, the dog is shedding and you’d end up with mohair pants. Bring it over here by the fire. Yes, it’s a hand. A woman named Willow gave it to me. Yes, first name. No, I believe I’d never heard that name for a woman either. And the only woman I’d ever met with orange eyes. At least I think so, the sky was blanketed near sunset and she stood before me with the Sun at my back, orange light coming from the end of the world reflecting in her eyes. The cottage down the pasture lane, I know you’ve been by there. The black heavy gate with the embedded cast iron magpie. Yes, that’s her.
I’d dropped off a bundle of books. Saw her there. We talked and then we said goodbye. That hand came gift wrapped the next morning at the back door. We talked outside the After Hours Bookstore. Orange eyes. It was cold, I had on a hat with ear flaps. She called me Elmer Fudd. She uses a typewriter and enjoys. Enjoys writing. Oh yes, that’s important. Old fashioned she said, but I told her no, I use pencil by hand. That’s older. But what I really wanted to do, I said, was use spray cans on the side of a barn. She smiled I remember. Do you want coffee? No? You’ll stay for dinner? I’m preparing a small dinner soon. Small like the old automats from the city. Remember those small platters? They were so good even though the company was so bad. Lovely steamed windows, men in hats, women with pearls, but you never knew who’d you be sitting next to.
Pencil gives a chance to better a draft I said. Work it over. Refining. Conveying every sensation. Like you’re standing in someone else’s shoes. Like Atticus Finch tells Scout. I should say Harper Lee tells Atticus to Scout. Oh, how I write in margins. By hand.

11 Comments:

Blogger steviewren said...

I write inside the margins too...just once I'd like to be bold and write my story outside the margins though!

Nice tale you've written here.

3/15/2010 9:05 PM  
Blogger Brian Miller said...

if i look back at all my books the notes in the margins tell the tale of my life...nicely woven tale...

3/15/2010 9:50 PM  
Blogger willow said...

It's just as if we met and talked for a while, Phil.

I loved those automats. It's as if each dish lived in it's own little house.

Now, if only I could find a cast iron magpie...

3/15/2010 10:46 PM  
Blogger Ronda Laveen said...

I, too, enjoyed the automat reference. Memories of days gone by. I'm curious if the young ones know about them. Maybe from cartoons. Great post.

3/16/2010 2:08 AM  
Blogger SUN DANCE HILL said...

Love it! Nostalgic, reminiscent tone is wonderful.

3/16/2010 6:55 AM  
Blogger Vicki Lane said...

A fascinating monologue! A little surreal...

3/16/2010 9:43 AM  
Blogger Vicki Lane said...

A fascinating monologue! A little surreal...

3/16/2010 9:43 AM  
Blogger Rob said...

This was engaging, I really enjoyed it, thank you for sharing…
…rob
Image & Verse

3/16/2010 4:58 PM  
Blogger Peter Goulding said...

Love your conversational style - its so easy to read.
Never met a girl with orange eyes before

3/16/2010 6:25 PM  
Anonymous Jennifer said...

More nice scenemaking Phil. And you make me want to give monologue a try, love your style.

3/17/2010 6:47 AM  
Blogger ♥ Braja said...

Well, that came from left field :)) Well done :)

3/19/2010 11:48 AM  

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