Monday, February 20, 2017

Whew! What a relief I finished my short story Invisible Shadow

Thanks to Marcy for reviewing my story Invisible Shadow. She liked it, so I'll submit it to the Montgomery County Community College Writer's Contest. No mail, tho, tomro, President's Day.

I liked this story and how it is told. You really did a lovely job.

The influence of a good poem is apparent.  I'm glad you kind of explained the gist of the poem in the first paragraph though; otherwise I'm not sure the excerpt would have made sense to me. 

I like Claire's history and strong, dignified character.  Plus, I admire her self-confidence. 

All the characters are genuinely human and seem to have respect for their fellow humans, too.
The original story did have possibilities but was not fully developed. Both stories made use of the Robert Frost poem THE LOVELY SHALL BE CHOOSERS. When I first read it, I misconstrued it to the opposite...if you're beautiful, you can have anyone you choose.

The Voice said, "Hurl her down!"

The Voices, "How far down?"

"Seven levels of the world."

"How much time have we?"

"Take twenty years.
She would refuse love safe with wealth and honor!
The lovely shall be choosers, shall they?
Then let them choose!"

"Then we shall let her choose?"

"Yes, let her choose.
Take up the task beyond her choosing."

Invisible hands crowned on her shoulder
In readiness to weigh upon her.
But she stood straight still,
In broad round earrings, gold and jet with pearls,
And broad round suchlike brooch,
Her cheeks high-colored,
Proud and the pride of friends.

The Voice asked, "You can let her choose?"

"Yes, we can let her and still triumph."

"Do it by joys, and leave her always blameless.
Be her first joy her wedding,
That though a wedding,
is yet--well, something they know, he and she.
And after that her next joy
That though she grieves, her grief is secret:
Those friends know nothing of her grief to make it shameful.
Her third joy that though now they cannot help but know,
They move in pleasure too far off
To think much or much care.
Give her a child at either knee for fourth joy
To tell once and once only, for them never to forget,
How once she walked in brightness,
And make them see it in the winter firelight.
But give her friends, for then she dare not tell
For their foregone incredulousness.
And be her next joy this:
Her never having deigned to tell them.
Make her among the humblest even
Seem to them less than they are.
Hopeless of being known for what she has been,
Failing of being loved for what she is,
Give her the comfort for her sixth of knowing
She fails from strangeness to a way of life
She came to from too high too late to learn.
Then send some one with eyes to see
And wonder at her where she is,
And words to wonder in her hearing how she came there,
But without time to linger for her story.
Be her last joy her heart's going out to this one
So that she almost speaks.
You know them--seven in all."

"Trust us," the Voices said.

Several yrs ago I attended a two hour poetry session at the Abington Libe given by Richard Tyre, co-author of a book about Robert Frost.

Tyre was going thru a personal tragedy.

His daughter was killed in a scuba diving accident.

He and his wife believed she was murdered by her husband who they believed was having an affair with another woman.

Here's the result of the trial. Click here.

Just chose two songs for tomro's Now and Then Group at the nursing home.

Hey Jude and

Light My Fire.

There's a relatively new show on PBS called ACTORS ON ACTORS. I sat on my bed and took notes. Two actors paired up and asked one another questions. Great questions. Am gonna watch something tonight on Netflix with Michael Shannon.

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