It's been since Easter since I have posted on this blog for which I am as sad and glad as these little salt shakers. Now that I'm in the home stretch, I will resume semi-regular blogging and such exciting activities like laundry. It's two more days until I celebrate my and Christina Hendricks' birthdays (Joan on
Mad Men) and here's the updates. I've made good progress on my new novel,
The First Rule of Curses. What is, you ask, the first rule of curses? I read a book as a child on this subject. It said that the first rule of any curse is that you must believe you are under one. Other signs include accidents, mental sickness, affliction, barreness, and loss of livestock. While I've had my share of these ailments, the first rule is the one that intrigues me. Why do we choose to believe we are cursed? My grandmother, in between smoking and reading romance novels, told me a story about a man who had been cursed by a voodoo priestess on the island (New Caledonia) where she lived much of her life. His skin began to consume itself. Gnarly as we used to say in the eighties. My own lineage certainly had its share of curse-like affliction -- my great grandmother was orphaned after her father, a prison guard, hanged himself and her mother was stabbed to death by a released prisoner who had fallen in love with her. My great grandmother had four children, three of whom who died long before she did. My grandmother, her surviving child, found herself in an abusive marriage with a violent alcholic. She herself was always an alcoholic. My mother spent much of her adult life battling various forms of cancer. My dad died in a plane crash. If nothing else, we have fallen under the traditional Chinese curse-- May you live in interesting times.
But I try to confine my interesting times to the page. For the past few months, I've been writing a book about internal curses, the ones we put on ourselves. I hate to brag, but I know a little about the subject. I've also been blessed with interesting times, with adventures, with a pervasive sense of hope. Despite our best efforts, good has a weird way of sneaking into our lives even in the saddest of circumstances. On this May Day, I send the happiest of wishes for all my nearest and dearest who are struggling. I also implore you all to start watching
Nurse Jackie and
Mad Men, my two favorite pleasures of the moment.
Nurse Jackie in season four finds herself in early sobriety, a woman who carries both suffering and joy into her world, played by the flawless Edie Falco.
Mad Men, in its current season, introduces us to the challenges of a changing world. One of the earlier episodes referenced the Richard Speck case, the source of the title for my poetry collection,
Make Yourself Small. Glad to be on the cutting edge of that curve! My favorite character of all time, Tony Soprano, once said he was participating joyfully in the sufferings of this world. My wish is that we all do the same. Happy May Day -- summer is coming.
