Summer of Imagination

I never knew my grandpa as a reader. By the time I came along he had four grown daughters and a kingdom sized number of grandchildren. He worked as a draftsman until he was in his early 80’s and to me and my brothers he was a gardner, a traveler and the world’s Greatest Grandpa.

My mom talked about his days as a reader which I’m not sure were before or after she was born, but the one and only thing I remember from that conversation was his comment that everything he had read of the science fiction genre—all the gadgets and predictions and the whole spectrum of the sci fi authorly imaginarium—had pretty much come true in his lifetime except the time machine (I say pretty much because I can’t remember if it was ALL or ALMOST ALL).

Photo by Michele Caballero Siamitras Kassube from Pixabay

As often as people like to make fun of sci fi geeks, this makes for a good moment to pause. How powerful is the imagination? The human imagination has brought about many wonderful things like libraries, antibiotics, chocolate mousse and artistic productions that move us deeply. But it has also brought along devastation in the form of atomic bombs, biological warfare, and scams.

I suppose we could remember that we don’t have knowledge of what’s good without bad evening out the scales, but I’d rather not go down that rabbit trail right now. I want to dive into a summer of imagination.

I’ll also be editing/preparing my newest novel to be launched in the fall. As one who, as a child, was accused of having a very vivid imagination, I take great delight in covering these ideas for the next two-three months. I’ll be exploring all kinds of imaginative things while dropping hints (title, cover) about my up-and-coming book. I may also be looking for a few more ARC readers, so if you’re familiar with my work and enjoy it, stay tuned.

Me on IG and Facebook.

The Summer Files: Day 12

My ears have been ringing for 12 straight days. At first, I though it was sugar-induced pandemonium that caused The Children to jack the noise level up to Rock Concert. Then I thought maybe, just maybe, the sweet release of homework into the void of bye-bye-for-now caused this uncontained clamor.13267743_1309091479118199_2886125102144717313_n

The noise level has been so high that the sound waves knocked birds from the sky. Wings. Feathers. Squawking. I also suspect The Canine.

I got so tired of using the word noise when people asked what my kids summer plans included that I consulted my thesaurus for more interesting options.
Clamor, din, babel.

Hullabaloo.

But when Memorial Day arrived, I realized the noise (although unhealthy for ear drums and sane minds) was distracting me from the root of it all. Really, the noise erupting from my children is not so much commotion, racket, or an uproar, but an expression of freedom.

Freedom to play, freedom to laugh at funny faces, cats, and words that rhyme with poop. Freedom to express opinions, LOUDLY, and to not recite times tables for the whole summer. Freedom to say God’s name and to be able to step outside in relative safety.

So I’m okay with that. (Except the sibling fights, that’s just pure foofaraw).

I may make a little noise myself today.

Many thanks to our veterans who paved the way for joyful noises.