I dreamed about Ellen Hart last night. I was a houseguest. The entire main floor was a kitchen. She had a sixteen-year-old dog, and a young one who kept bouncing around our feet. It was morning, and I was in pajamas and a robe, and she was cooking like a mad scientist, while I watched animals play outside. That’s all I remember. Maybe it’s because I recently read and reviewed The Cruel Ever After. Or it was something I ate.
Lately, I have been dreaming about my brother. In one dream, he was very young, and he kept following me and teasing me. I begged my mother to make him stop, but she just said, that’s what brothers do.
I barely remember my older brother when he was that young. He was a teenager, then out of the house and gone as I was growing up.
He would have looked like this, in the dream. When my brother was that age, I was probably a baby. I never noticed it before, but in this school photo, he has that same half grin that Mother had. You can barely see, but he is wearing a chain with dog tags in the picture. I never noticed that either, but I do have clear memories of him wearing dog tags. Now I wonder, whose were they? My daddy’s from his time in the army? I never really thought about it.
I’ve told you this before, but if you haven’t yet caught on: Jill Malone is one of the finest writers anywhere. You should read her essays here: http://www.jillmalone.com/brave. And then, you should read her newest novel, Giraffe People. I think it is her best yet, but her previous books garnered so many awards that some people may disagree with me.
While I am raving about writers, here’s another one that I greatly admire and envy, Sally Bellerose. You can catch up with her here: http://sallybellerose.wordpress.com. And then go read her wonderful book, The Girls Club, because she has another book in the works. I’ll keep you posted about when that one comes out.
As for me, I am wandering around in my latest work, just stopping here and there to admire, moving on, not quite settling down to do a cohesive run through the whole thing, because I don’t think it is whole yet. Memories come and go like dreams, like old faded snapshots, and that is how this new book is shaping up. IN the mean time, if you miss me, go read this: What’s Best for Jane.