Went into the woods “scoping it out” for the snowshoeing — when the hoped-for time comes. So friendly in freshly fallen leaves of yellow and red. And then there’s the fleeting stream alongside. I wear hunter’s orange. Most people do, even on roads, walking the sandy shoulder. It’s bird season so all you need’s the hat — on my walk, an orange knit stocking-cap.
At Mythgard they are in the midst of fundraising and, for bit of funding fun, have instigated “Almost an Inkling” flash fiction contests. There’s still time to enter the last two contests, this week’s being poetry, and next week is the speculate and sub-create contest. Each of these micro fiction contests has its own specific word limits. We’ve had Portals, Dragons, and Minute Mysteries.
I like this cover. The image looks like it could be Katahdin. The knife edge. But I’m going to check that when copies arrive.
Our friend, Francesca Forrest is the author of its blurb. We are grateful to her! The author of Pen Pal is to receive a copy of this. By way of thanks, no offering enough.
ETA: looks like the greatest mountain in maine, yes. i won’t bother them to ask about it, but neither cover nor copyright page give verbal clue to the artist, photo, or mountain. a powerful image so grateful thanks to the artist.
both books in the series are now on sale.
Ruth Moore’s Maine small-town characters enter The Walk Down Main Street individually. At first it’s a parade. Then they take up residence together for us, interacting, unfolding their relations, in community.
Martin Hoodless we meet first, quintessential hard-working stubborn judgmental curmudgeonly “old Mainer.” This is a novel in which yare (yeah), gaumy (gormy), and they (their or there ) might signify the peculiar downeast accent. Hoodless is in the egg production business, built from ground upwards and finally debt-free (for the second time). He thinks the town’s preoccupation with basketball, and its team in particular, is worthless. (That sentiment is not quintessential Maine.)
I’m really taken with the squawking desk chair, aren’t you? This chair can situate your characters in a particular time and place. Ruth Moore uses it admirably in her 1950s The Walk Down Main Street. You feel you almost know who this character is, what they do for a living (within a given range), and what their next move might be (punning). I was surprised to see it there on my recent rereading of her good book.