Two things are taking up much of my brain space these days.
The first, as you might suspect, is Mom. We’re gearing up for her Celebration of Life on Saturday, July 26. I’ve been looking for whatever photos I have of her, scanning them, and forwarding them for consideration in the slide show.
Of humans and the gods- -and dogs! Mom, with Dirk and Tasha, c. 1990. An excellent role model for life at 65. . .
In addition to that, I’ve been promoting books one and three in my series, Small-g City and Beyond Big-G City. These are date-critical promotions and were carefully planned well before Mom’s death, so of course it’s all happening at the same time.
The gods love it when you read about them! This week’s drop of “Small-g City” is at a Little Free Library on Bryant Street, between Division and Madison, Walla Walla, WA.
Don’t forget the apricots!
Quiet, 9! It’s true that I’m still picking, sorting, processing and tossing hundreds of apricots daily, but the end is in sight! I’ve given away hundreds, possibly thousands of them, and will end up with probably five gallons of halves preserved in the chest freezer. And the jam, and the two quarts of dried apricots. . .
If the gods love apricots I wish they’d help me eat these! One of many dehydrators full of the things. . .
Hello? Are you still there?
Yes, thanks for the nudge, Lily. Though the Greek immortals, aka the gods, in my series don’t have to deal with death much, and they could probably pick their abundance of apricots using magic or a few dozen servants, promoting the books makes me remember why I chose to write about them in the first place: for the most part, they have the same problems as humans. If I had to boil this concept down to a single sentence it would be:
The gods; they’re a lot like you.
The gods had fancier costumes than the humans in “Hippolytus”. Whitman College, Walla Walla, WA, 1978.
This is clear in the myths I researched to build the Big-G City world. Power plays, romance, horror, revenge, love, hate, intrigue, infidelity, secret babies, alcohol abuse, protection of family and home, and the daily act of trying to hold it all together- -it’s all in the myths. Even more so in the Big-G City world. It’s not easy being Zeus, especially when he steps down as CEO of Olympus, Inc., and suffers a devastating identity crisis. Or Persephone, whose tightwad husband, Hades (the richest god in the pantheon), won’t let her have a baby because it’s too expensive. Or David Bernstein, Hera’s one illegitimate child, who discovers he’s immortal after being raised as mortal by immortal foster parents who regularly renewed a forgetfulness charm.
When the first book, Small-g City, was published in 2015 it was dedicated to Mom, for her unflagging support of my creative efforts, and my (now late) husband, Bruce. I was so excited when I gave Mom her copy, even though she’d said up front she really didn’t like the fantasy genre. It took her a while to read it (she was 89 at the time). Her one comment that I recall: “You put a lot in there.”
I didn’t think to ask at the time, so I’ll never know if she saw elements of herself in Hera, a strong woman and fierce advocate of her daughter, Veronica. But surely she recognized the sights and sounds of downtown Seattle, and could relate to the love and fears and frustrations inherent in marital and family relationships? And the renewal Hera experienced when she discarded her antiquated High Olympian white and gold togs for vivid red, and freed her fabulous silver hair from its impossible pile of braids and curls to fall magnificently down her back? Mom (always a fashionista) worked in clothing retail. She’d have loved to guide someone like Hera to a contemporary, flattering style.
Humans and the gods: Mom wore red every bit as well as Hera! Tapping at the Uptown Street Fair, Lawrence Street, Port Townsend, WA, late 1990s.
Humans, gods, apricots. Lately, I’ve had no luck keeping them under control.
And you think this is even possible why?
Because I write fantasy, Lily, which for me is like working a huge and complicated jigsaw puzzle, or studying an intersection in a Venn diagram to discern the common elements that reside there. Eventually, I will figure it out: the common elements of book marketing, Mom’s sendoff, and a staggering overabundance of apricots.
