Life
feels as though it’s zipping along, although I’ve had large swaths of downtime
so I fear my absence here is due more to lethargy than pressing obligations.
The past week
included a visit to the hills of New Jersey
to visit grandchildren (and their parents) where we stood on a succession of
wet soccer fields in unrelenting mist. Still, it was pleasant – isn’t that what
the Irish call “soft” weather ? - and
brought back memories of other fields with my own children galloping up and down.
We also
managed a grown-up dinner at a newly opened local restaurant that, sadly, was
so excellent its success will likely move it on to a larger venue.
I mean, pork chops with an expresso hazelnut demi-glaze and
mustard spaetzle, heirloom carrots and baby kale? Or my chkoice: wood grilled
shrimp with creamy heairloom grits, smokey bourbon butter, braised greens, and
jalapeno jelly?
Hackettstown, New Jersey never had it so good.
This week I
met for dinner with a newly-formed gathering of mystery writers of Western
Massachusetts where I found myself becoming uncharacteristically
quiet, surrounded as I was by writers much more accomplished than myself. “Unpublished”
felt as though it was tattooed across my forehead.
Among those in attendance –
Lisa – cultural and intellectual historian, author of at
least six books, subject of
several
interviews on National Public Radio, and absurdly pleasant and
self-effacing.
Lee – former television writer and producer (Edgar Award for
best television
teleplay,
author of several fiction and non-fiction books.
Glenn –author of 15 mysteries, professor of philosophy
Ray – our organizer and representative from the Boston
branch of Mystery
Writers of America,
author of God-knows how many Boston-based
mysteries, winner of this award and that
award. Also absurdly pleasant and self-effacing.
I just tried
not to use double negatives and pick my teeth. My degrees, years of teaching
English, and 2 ½ (mediocre) books were mere foothills to their Mt. Everests.
Still, it was helpful to be surrounded by writers and be reminded that this was
something I enjoyed and should stop neglecting. And my pasta was excellent.
The whole restaurant business is so tricky. The public's taste changes on a dime.
ReplyDeleteEnjoy your writing companions.
I am pretty certain I would have succumbed to an attack of the inadequacies, before I left the house.
ReplyDeleteYay you. And excellent pasta is a bonus.
kin of like the way I felt at the International Artists Symposium.
ReplyDeleteThat's an unusual plate design in the photo.
ReplyDeleteI am right now at a writers' retreat and learning the craft. Some are published, but we all write blogs. And that's how we met. The pasta sounds wonderful. Enjoy! :-)
ReplyDeleteThat's a retreat I'd love to attend!
DeleteAh but I have read one of your books and found it very enjoyable. Hope you do keep up the good work.
ReplyDeleteBTW, this is the first blog I've read where grandchildren were mentioned that their parents were also acknowledged (if only in parentheses). Grands usually have the power to clear the landscape of all but themselves. I remember those gloriously powerful days.
Funny how easy it is to skip over a generation! :o)
DeleteHow cool, that you got to meet with all those other writers. I imagine everyone feels some trepidation in such gatherings, even those who have been professionally published. Sounds like an amazing opportunity!
ReplyDelete"Soft weather" -- I like that phrase. I could use that a lot here.