Grateful

Among the many other gifts of the season, I’m grateful I have been able to finish the first draft of my novel So Are You to My Thoughts. It’s the final book in the series I have been writing for the past ten years. There is a lot of work to do before the novel is published, as it has been written sporadically and needs pulling together. But, there is no getting around it. It’s done.

In this culminating novel, Line’s kids are all thriving. She and Stephen continue to reside in Santa Cruz with Poppa, as the kids move into their own lives. It is easier for Line to communicate with them, however, as technology has improved. In her 60’s, Line begins to feel something is wrong. Eventually she is diagnosed with progressive multiple sclerosis which at first horrifies her. She gradually becomes used to her new condition, with Stephen stepping in to help.

For Paul, the book begins with the loss of Marie. He finds a place for himself, however, when Ellie and Bruce decide they can rebuild the family’s lake cabin. It will become a year-round home, with Paul in residence as manager. The building process is exciting and Paul is thrilled to find himself deep in northern Minnesota where he always wanted to be. Marie’s daughter and her children remain his family.

Marty’s single life is completely disrupted when she moves in with Doug at the Boulder Creek ranch on the mountain above Santa Cruz. She becomes the household anchor for the family, since Doug works hard and the kids are all in school. As a father, Doug is full of ideas about what he wants for his kids. Marty helps implement them. During some of the kids’ high school years, the family moves in to Santa Cruz to be closer to activities. By the end of the book, the kids have their eyes on college. Marty and Doug are amazed at how quickly they grew up.

Lewis Hyde in The Gift: Creativity and the Artist in the Modern World, says “For the slow labor of realizing a potential gift the artist must retreat to those Bohemias, halfway between the slums and the library, where life is not counted by the clock and where the talented may be sure they will be ignored until that time, if it ever comes, when their gifts are viable enough to be set free and survive in the world.” I have come to that place, indeed, when we see whether the books are viable enough to survive in the modern world.

This is not to say that I am sure the books qualify as “art.” Art, with a capital A, is a romantic idea, often supported by a lot of hype, to which I don’t subscribe. All of us bring art to our lives, and occasionally try to embody in words or music or the other arts the spirit we cannot contain, that we feel we must share.

I hoped the books would show, in one group of siblings, born into a particular place and time, how one grows into a self and then sets out to share that self with a larger family. It is always an adventure, an odyssey through uncharted waters. But, as with most adventurers, home, and the making of a home, is the goal. I have been blessed every day with ideas and scenes I call up from memory or create from research, often a combination of the two.

The project could not have been brought to this point without the specific help of three people: My sister Naomi has read each chapter as it was written with an eye to its emotional continuity and the awkward word or phrase. My brother David has especially commented on the Paul chapters. And Don Starnes has brought his visual and technical gifts to the production of the covers and the website. For all of this help, and for the web of life reflected in the books, I am deeply grateful.