Let's talk about our March days
March 2025
Hey there!
Let’s talk about our days…
Narrative Edge, a radio show on Georgia Public Broadcasting, highlights Georgia authors and is super fun because after you talk with either Orlando Montoya or Peter Biello, the actual show is Orlando and Peter talking about your book with bits of the earlier, taped conversation thrown in. I went to the GPB studios in early December and talked with Orlando about The Art of Her Life, and the show aired on All Things Considered the last day of December, but for those who missed the live show and would like to read or listen, click here.
Some of you will remember back in the summer of 2023 when I started the Big Declutter with the attic... Well, yesterday I finished with the garage. After cleaning all the shelves, I got rid of a truckload of old bikes and bike racks and planters and hoes (I have no idea why we had even one hoe, much less two) and loads of things that had disintegrated. Just thinking about it makes my shoulders drop.
In 1976, after my freshman year at Davidson, I spent the summer in Québec City, working on my French at Laval University. There was a mass transit strike, so we hitchhiked everywhere. Lots of outdoor concerts. I was nineteen and loved every minute. The first week of March, I went back to Québec City, an eight-hour drive from Provincetown. I don’t see how it’s possible, but I loved it even more. Piles and piles of snow and five below. I rented an apartment in the old town and walked everywhere. In texts and emails, my French is fine, but speaking it, well, the hinges are pretty rusty. One day, I drove further north until I found a place where all I could see was snow and ice. Even more than Provincetown, it felt as if I'd landed in my spot in the world.
Ellen Birkett Morris’s first novel, Beware the Tall Grass, was chosen as the winner of the 2023 Donald L. Jordan Award for Literary Excellence, which carries a $10,000 prize and an offer of publication by Columbus State University Press, located just a few miles from where I live in Columbus, Georgia.
The judge for the award was Lan Samantha Chang, and I love her description of Ellen's book. “In this beautiful novel, two stories separated by half a century intertwine to create an indelible narrative of peace and war.” In the excerpt below, you can see that dichotomy, which is present throughout the book.
I knew from losing Beau [his horse] that sadness and joy can occupy the same space in a person. That they could stand side by side together, yet distinct. That was what I felt, appreciation for what I had now and grief at the thought of losing it.
To read more about Ellen and her writing, click over to Catching Days. And now for a peek into Ellen’s day, which she spent at home in Louisville, Kentucky, recovering from shoulder surgery.
But my days are quiet now. My body bears the wear and tear of hours spent at the desk...These days are not filled with words, the regular tasks of writing and reading. But filled instead with tiny acts like walking in slow circles around the house. I notice the sun on the coral-colored walls, the pictures on my mantle (the way they all date from a time when film was developed at a drugstore, not printed), my mother gone nine years now, a family photo from a 1960s picnic, my father’s sideburns a dead giveaway of a time gone by, my kind aunt with the generous heart and sparkling eyes." [read more]
The dogwoods are blooming in Georgia. Chartreuse pollen covers the streets and cars and blows in through screens. A pileated woodpecker is hammering away outside my window. What’s happening in your world?
Lots of reading in mine. I’ve discovered Louise Penny and Inspector Gamache! I know I’m late to the party, but these books are such a delight—mysteries that keep me guessing, excellent writing that assumes I can keep up, and wonderful characters who make me laugh out loud. Who else loves these? I’m on the third one already.
With this letter, I wish for you the pleasure of spaces—empty ones and new ones.
Write me back and let me know how you’re spending your days. And feel free to share this letter with others. Past letters are here.
Happy last days of March and thanks for reading.
Peace out,
--cynthia
Issue #70 March 2025