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Each spring, one of our neighbors razes his front yard down to the soil and builds up a new native, pollinator- and bird-friendly garden. My wife calls summer "the season of fullness," and certainly by this time in the year the garden certainly looks like it agrees. Those sunflowers!
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I love this yard, because it represents so many wonderful things -- life, growth, harmony with nature, and pushing against traditionalist and conformist assumptions about what a front yard can and should be. HOA grumbling notwithstanding, I embrace it.
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Writing Update
Last month, I promised an excerpt from something new in the July issue, and it's included at the bottom of this newsletter! I've included the opening scene from The Karma of Ponds, which is currently under consideration at Fantasy Magazine.
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I have two other pieces of newer prose written, a scene from the collection of stories related to a Dungeons and Dragons campaign I'm running called The Heart of the Empire, and a new draft short story called The Beyul. However, I didn't think either of these more recent two are ready for sharing just yet.
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Rassam's Eye stands at about 21,000 words, and slow progress continues.
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I've been noticing a lot of positive changes from my commitment this year to focus on process rather than product. My writing time in the morning has been generally a happy time, and I can feel the flow of creative energy equal to or perhaps exceeding where it was several years ago, before my creative slump.
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Two notable developments process: a new appreciation for "notebook prose" written out longhand on paper, letting me lose myself in the act of writing itself and not worry about the editing or revision; and the willingness to let my mind wander from the "main project" and write what I feel like working on.
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Thanks to The DIY MFA, I've completed the most intentional approach to setting up a reading list that I've ever done. I blogged about it (and included my new reading list) here: Reading Like a Writer. Take a look and let me know if you think I should add any related titles!
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Content Consumed
- Finished: Foundation, by Isaac Asimov. It was "Okay to Good". The themes were really interesting, and on the grandest scale! Asimov definitely made me think, even if rendered in a sort of pulpy, Saturday morning cartoon kind of feel where whatever needs to happen sort of instantly happens with little to no resistance. I enjoyed the ideas enough to keep going... through paper-thin characters who seldom change and all sound exactly the same (with all exceptions being merely different cliches). Whole chapters were sometimes nothing but "as you know" style expositional dialogue. all that said, I can definitely see why it's considered such a (ahem) foundational work of science fiction -- there's pieces of this book all over the genre. for example, the sheer volume of stuff that George Lucas apparently just ripped off wholesale for Star Wars is pretty hilarious. I'm glad I read it for the sake of canonical education, but I can't say I'd ever feel like continuing down the series.
- Started: The Fifth Season, by N.K. Jemison. So far intrigued and enjoying the worldbuilding, maybe only 50 pages in though. More cogent updates next month.
- Ongoing: The DIY MFA, by Gabriela Pereira.
- Ongoing: Every writing and storytelling class available on Masterclass... starting with Joyce Carol Oates and her course on the craft of short story writing
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What have you been reading or watching? Any recommendations for me?
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Excerpt from: The Karma of Ponds
The mists hung low over the water as Chaitra arrived at the Pond one late summer morning. The ripples of fishermen working their pre-dawn catch on the opposite shore had yet to reach Chaitra’s bank. In the patches where she could see through the mist, the surface was clear and still, reflecting the thick forests of banyan, mango, fig, and beech, and finally the towering mountains beyond. In the mountains lived the wild animals and the devas – powerful beings of otherworldly powers.
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She gathered up her sari - a plain, simple thing, proudly patched - and moved to the muddy bank. She was just about to peer into the waters and begin her meditation when movement flitted along the bank to her right, away from the direction of the Village.
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A deer stood staring at her, frozen in mid-drink, its chin dripping with glistening droplets a few hand-lengths above the surface of the Pond. Its rust-colored coat marked it as from the forests closer to the mountain. The lighter, spotted ones of the nearby lower jungle were a common sight in the mornings and evenings, but Chaitra could count on one hand the number of times she had seen a mountain deer in the lower valley, and she had certainly never seen one this close to the Pond or Village. A sign, she had no doubt.
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They regarded the other for a few timeless moments, brown eyes staring into brown eyes, each drawn by the momentary connection with this other creature, and wondering if it boded well or ill. The deer broke first. It dipped its head back down to a long drink, the ripples traveling down the bank towards Chaitra. And then it left, tucking quickly into a mango grove, in the direction of the mountains from whence it came.
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Chaitra knew the sutras, and chanted them in her mind to remember. The deer was a sign of renunciation, a turning away and a turning toward. But a turning from what? A turning toward what? Perhaps the Reflecting Pond would tell her. As she turned her gaze to the pond, she watched the first ripple of the deer’s appearance reach the patch of water in front of her.
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Through the ripples, she saw the end of the world.
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The rains would move on, permanently. In a few generations, their lush jungle Valley would dry up into desert, the crops would fail, and people would starve in dusty misery. The whole Village would have to move, and the journey to a new home would be long and arduous.
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Chaitra made quick salutations to the gods and devas with hands as wrinkled and brown as the earth itself, gathered up her sari, and started up the worn path from the Pond to the Village.
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She passed small huts and farms, leaning on her staff with one hand and offering a hurried, but kind wave to all with the other. The villagers all knew her. Some even revered her. She was their healer, their counselor, their keeper of lore. Above all, she was their Seer — their source of answers in an uncertain world. Chaitra saw the concern on their faces at this breach in routine.
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On a normal day, the villagers knew to leave Chaitra’s mornings undisturbed while she consulted the Reflecting Pond. In the afternoons, when the summer heat or winter storms drove the farmers from their fields and everyone retreated to the shade of their huts or friendly tree, she would contemplate what she saw. By the end of the evening meal in the Village center — before the scent of lentils, onions, and spices could fade — everyone would be lined up to pepper her with questions about what she had seen of their future.
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Chaitra approached the Village center, where the Pramukh sat with his advisors and warriors, discussing mundane matters. The hubbub of voices fell silent at her approach, and the Pramukh’s eyes narrowed.
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This young ruler of the Village, just three seasons on the throne, scoffed at taking advice from an old woman who stared into ponds. Yet Chaitra knew that the Pramukh understood an essential truth about power: keeping the villagers assured about their futures was a benefit to all, and ensured the stability of his reign. And so the Pramukh nightly waved his approval at the line waiting to see the Seer, and nightly the implicit bargain between the spiritual and earthly powers was reaffirmed.
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Chaitra told him, told them all what she had just seen.
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There was a long silence as the Pramukh’s face turned as if he were chewing bitter gourd along with her words.
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“And where shall we go?” he snapped suddenly. The warriors nervously fingered their spears at the outburst. “Our hunters and scouts have journeyed for weeks before without finding any land such as ours. None are as fertile for our fields, so near the pond for fish and water, and close by the jungle for fruits and game. Where is this new land of plenty then for which you would have us leave behind everything we know and love?”
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“I cannot see that far,” Chaitra said. “I do not know in which direction we should go, or in what lands we may rebuild. I only saw that if we stay, our children’s children will starve on a barren land.”
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“A useless woman!” the Pramukh declared with a dismissive wave of his hand before the whole Village, who had gathered at his call. “You see? She tries to frighten us, but this monster of which she speaks – if it exists at all – is decades distant. Conveniently, it cannot be seen or pointed to in the now. And besides! Even if true, she has no idea where to go, but would have us wander in the wilds with our belongings on our backs, going this way and that, like a lame deer with its eyes put out! A fevered dream of an ill old woman, long past her lucid days.”
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“You will stay here and doom your own grandchildren to suffer?”
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“The valley I see right in front of me is beautiful and lush. Here we are safe from the wild animals and devas of the forests and mountains. We have all that we need, and always will. We will stay. You can go if you like, old woman. In fact, I think you should. Such ravings harm our unity and happiness.”
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The Pramukh waved, and guards with rough hands, glad for something concrete to do amidst all this talk of uncertain futures, dutifully led the Seer out.
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From that day forward, the old Seer met spear points instead of smiles when she approached the Village from her house on the hill in the outskirts. Many still loved and respected her and silently watched her make her daily walk to the Reflecting Pond. But now, no one asked Chaitra for advice unless the matter was grave — even then, they did so late at night, out of sight of their neighbors’ gossiping eyes.
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Sometimes through tears he did not understand, the eyes of one boy still watched Chaitra from the shadows, when he thought no one was looking.
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I do love getting your feedback and comments, so please continue to reach out. Thanks for reading, and see you in the next issue!
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