This chapter is like pulling out the yearbooks of my life. Not just from school. We should keep books for all the years. Your runway road trip seemed richer in a single week than a year of Hyde could have been.
Pete Seeger. Your word pictures trigger memories but you always attach the feelings as well. To this day I can’t drive into the suburbs without belting out a few verses of Little Boxes. Back then, it was refreshing someone recognized the lame posturing of the world. Like we were part of a secret club. The larger, unarguable truth club.
Sadly, I read this with the breathless envy of a smiling zero. Not only did I stay inside the lines, I only used a flesh colored crayon for people.
I loved Hyde’s focus on leaders. Now I know many of the leaders then are leaders still. And they have no secret answers and no magic wands.
Your thirsty inner voice is still asking questions. That sudden leap from the world’s most innovative school to a courageous flight through the scary night is jarring in a good way. You capture people in a sentence or a tic. And we know exactly who we’re reading.
If I didn’t already love you I would love you just for writing the word vittles. OMG, spinning with a picnic basket, wearing a pretty dress, catching a big, dumb boyfriend who played guitar on the front porch and appreciated your vittles. It’s the perfect life. You just have to put your brain on pause and abort your creativity gene and life becomes bliss.
What is not to love there?
No place to grieve Brian. So telling.
The escape from expectations. Made me thankful I grew up invisible.
You have nailed every individual you encountered fleeing Hyde. The raw innocence of 17, the honesty and lack of pretense, screams future victim but there’s a steely strength that protects. At some point each of us had met or been the people of your flight. I even know the thing that is NC rich, white golf.
Of course, being a smiling zero, I stressed the entire chapter, waiting for your parent’s reaction. I’ve never seen a more minimalist sentence than your, “Something wasn’t right.” Really great writing.
I would read chapters of my novel to my dad each time I would finish one, and his eyes would grow big like dinner plates, and he almost throttle me, saying, “And then what?” I’m only sorry that he did not live to hear me read THE END.
Damn. Really compelling read Vanda. I love your writing!
TANX M.O.! Means the world to me.
Well, yikes, Vanda!
right?
hate to say it but it's child's play compared to the next chapters.
This chapter is like pulling out the yearbooks of my life. Not just from school. We should keep books for all the years. Your runway road trip seemed richer in a single week than a year of Hyde could have been.
Pete Seeger. Your word pictures trigger memories but you always attach the feelings as well. To this day I can’t drive into the suburbs without belting out a few verses of Little Boxes. Back then, it was refreshing someone recognized the lame posturing of the world. Like we were part of a secret club. The larger, unarguable truth club.
Sadly, I read this with the breathless envy of a smiling zero. Not only did I stay inside the lines, I only used a flesh colored crayon for people.
I loved Hyde’s focus on leaders. Now I know many of the leaders then are leaders still. And they have no secret answers and no magic wands.
Your thirsty inner voice is still asking questions. That sudden leap from the world’s most innovative school to a courageous flight through the scary night is jarring in a good way. You capture people in a sentence or a tic. And we know exactly who we’re reading.
If I didn’t already love you I would love you just for writing the word vittles. OMG, spinning with a picnic basket, wearing a pretty dress, catching a big, dumb boyfriend who played guitar on the front porch and appreciated your vittles. It’s the perfect life. You just have to put your brain on pause and abort your creativity gene and life becomes bliss.
What is not to love there?
No place to grieve Brian. So telling.
The escape from expectations. Made me thankful I grew up invisible.
You have nailed every individual you encountered fleeing Hyde. The raw innocence of 17, the honesty and lack of pretense, screams future victim but there’s a steely strength that protects. At some point each of us had met or been the people of your flight. I even know the thing that is NC rich, white golf.
Of course, being a smiling zero, I stressed the entire chapter, waiting for your parent’s reaction. I’ve never seen a more minimalist sentence than your, “Something wasn’t right.” Really great writing.
Oh Bev. I've come to rely on you. Thank you. That 'flesh' sentence you just wrote! Got a meeting. Let's talk soon.
And then? And then?
That's EXACTLY what we want, isn't it Stu? Thank you!
I would read chapters of my novel to my dad each time I would finish one, and his eyes would grow big like dinner plates, and he almost throttle me, saying, “And then what?” I’m only sorry that he did not live to hear me read THE END.
No! How sweet he was so engaged.