My sister just cancelled our Spring Break. We were meant to have a great celebration, something we hadn’t been able to have for years and years. How often in our chaotic life do the stars line up like an arrow into your pocket?
All that’s gone .. for whatever excuse. And they were excuses.
As a little sister — just as a loving sister — it’s been my heart’s place, my heart’s joy to support my love, my sister, with her decisions. Always, always supportive, always finding the way to align thoughts, beliefs, to see everything as right.
Tonight, though, I listened — then responded with the truth that came from my heart. Without regret.
That is something I never do. I didn’t know what it was to be the contrarian. Until tonight.
It doesn’t make me feel here, nor there. .. it just is.
***
Tonight wasn’t the first time I stood my ground and chose not to bend, though. While my kids were library-ing today, I finished Thornhill by Pam Smy. You tend to reserve judgement about writing until the end, right? — which I did. I guessed that the writer was British, that YA was a voice she recently tapped into, that this adult-ish stream of consciousness was going to lead to something more profound than the line of self-reflection laced throughout. Then, of course, I get to the end, where there’s no other way to end the stilted, one-sided discourse than with The Easy — tinged with a measured dose of shock-value, vulgarized tragedy and despair, really that leaves you thinking, Noo.. That can’t be right. That’s too obvious. Cheap.
This is when you doubt yourself as an experienced reader — and a writer of craft (yes you are) — and so you turn to Google to squish your doubts, your unbelief. Yes, it tells you. The Dragon lives.
But that’s .. not quite right, you want to say..
That’s what I said, anyway. And I’m sticking to it.
It’s probably a British thing. Doing what they can as they continue to hunt for another J.K. Rowling.
You can take any book, any book, and bend the light against the thread of your truth, and say Yeah, people need to know about this. I’m all for it. I’m the last, last person who will hide behind corners out of fear of discussing anything.. anything. I grew up in a home where lies were thrown about — untruths were taken as gospel (which explains why me and my sister are so close.. and why I’m disappointed today) — justice was non-existent. People weren’t just, in other words. Thusly, ingrained in my soul are the tattoos “Speak.” And “Walk Naked!” “Tell the truth!”
So, I fight for people. But not just for people. I fight for body and soul.. Ask the hubby.
No, what needed to be said didn’t need to be said this way.
This is where I stand. This is my Naked Truth, as a writer, a fan and purveyor of the craft, and of defender of little kids. .. maybe I’m just defending the little one who’s still on me, y’know?
That was my first reading of the day. Like reading tea leaves, like I’ve said before.
Tonight, I had my second swirl of leaves to decipher when I came across about Reed’s Glass Bottom Boats. That’s what we’re doing this Spring Break .. instead of that other thing.
Tomorrow, I’ll build a schedule of days where we can slowly view the world at our feet.
I don’t need a subtle hint about where I need to go. I don’t need anyone to convince me of anything.. I can read messages loud and clear… The first time.
Puro Veronica 