Thursday, April 11, 2019

An Example Of Compelling Writing: A Diamond the Size of Your Fist

Greetings to all of my internet friends and neighbors, and a great good morning to my family everywhere, as you put on the last touches of Preparation Thursday, before walking out the door to school or work.

Papa Pat has SO many irons on the fire that he can't get any ironing done. I was finally able to start reading, a week or so ago, and today I review.

 NOTE: If I do NOT get at least one review published by midnight tonight, then I will change my avatar in my most-frequented Facebook hangout from Redneck Biker to Redneck Moped Guy.  

And I have three other projects pending: further exploration of what my experience has been with self-administration of CBD oil via an inhaler; reloading some ammo, including the lovely but challenging 7.62x25 Tokarev round; taking my newly acquired Chinese SKS to the range to see if it really IS as accurate as the single bench-rested target from last Saturday promised.  

In the interim, my desk looks like this:
"And if you think THAT is bad,
you ought to see inside HERE!" (points to head)

Rather than wait until one of those projects is complete, and then blogging on that, I decided to blog about some beautiful prose I read this morning.

The selection is taken from a yet unpublished book titled "Possum Creek Massacre" by Cedar Sanderson (and an excerpt from the book is found at the link), about whom you have heard me rave before. ALL of her work is first class. but sometimes, as you sift through the gold dust in her work, you encounter a diamond the size of your fist. Check this out:

"The idea had been to keep warm in the winter and cooler in the summer, but it didn’t work so well in the summer. It was cooler to sleep on the porch, even if the mosquitoes were a torment. She’d been sleeping there since May, and had planned to continue until September, but she didn’t have that long." ("Possum Creek Massacre," unpublished, by Cedar Sanderson.)

You don't HAVE to know the details of 'the idea' to understand what's going on, particularly if you live in an area of the country when one (or more) seasons are not particularly friendly to man.

The first two sentences, and the first two thirds of the last sentence, give you a BEAUTIFUL set-up.
It's a nice, homey description, and although the unidentified protagonist of the chapter seems to have perhaps a little bit of the hoarder in her, she is quite sympathetic. And then...
"...but she didn't have that long."
The knife slips in so skillfully, it doesn't even hurt, at first.  And the following paragraphs play off that beautifully, slowly. Each has an intro that tells you, up front, that the Bad Thing is coming, and then resumes, depicting the surroundings as if they were slowly unraveling.  And there is a bit of dread mixed in.

Yup. That's good writing. It's not out yet, but look for "Possum Creek Massacre."

Peace be on your household.

1 comment:

  1. I grew up in the South, we actually HAD sleeping porches... :-)