Bits
and Pieces
So I had a nice surprise this
morning when I received an e-mail from the music librarian at the University
of Cincinnati library. We’ve been corresponding for a while now, and it’s his
responsibility to keep track of “U.C. Authors” – of which I am one, by virtue
of my three years as a student at the College-Conservatory of Music from
1955-1958. Paul Cauthen was nice enough to mention me in the library’s blog and
give a plug to my most recent and only non-fiction book, “More Fog, Please.” There’s a link from that link to all my books which are listed at the library, and they
have two physical copies of each … one has been archived, the other is available
for circulation. I would love for more people who are contemporaries of mine to
know about in particular Eli’s Heart,
since about two-thirds of that book takes place on the old CCM campus in Mt.
Auburn. The student uprising on campus in 1956 actually happened. Maybe this will help!
**********
I am currently waiting to hear from
two more Beta readers about their reaction to my work in progress, my fourth
novel entitled Jamie’s Children. It’s
great to have had two positive responses from the men who volunteered to read
the book. I’m taking more time with this one. Basically, I had to … my
character Niall Logan is bipolar, and trying to get inside his head took a lot
of research. He also aspires to be a singer-songwriter, more research about a
genre I knew very little about. And yet more research: Niall’s sister Laura is
a virtuoso violinist. Though I was familiar with some of the literature, I’d
never even held a violin. I’ve had great assistance with all three of these
fields from some terrific friends, reinforcing how important networking is to
an author.
**********
One of my Beta readers requested a
little more about Jamie Logan, the famous father to Laura and Niall, and his
reaction to Niall’s illness. Happy to oblige, so here’s a sneak peek at Jamie’s Children.
**********
Deep into practicing the Brahms
concerto, feeling herself one with the music, Laura was annoyed when the buzzer
in her apartment sounded and she almost ignored it. Her concentration broken,
she went to the intercom and asked rather crisply: “Who is it?”
“It’s Niall.”
“Niall! Come on up!” She was thrilled to hear his voice. She
hadn’t seen him since Bonnie had gone to Hunter Mountain and brought him back
to the city. Bonnie had talked with her and with Meredith and Jamie, explaining
Niall wasn’t ready to see them yet. Not at Thanksgiving.
Not even at Christmas.
**********
It had been strained and strange, just herself and her
parents trying to somehow capture the joy of the season. They were all
recalling the Christmas two years earlier with Jack, when they had filled the
house with music. This year a recording was playing of Vaughan Willaims’ Hodie – a work Jamie was to perform the
following year with the New York Philharmonic. There were some half-hearted
attempts at discussions about the music, but these trailed off into silence.
Jamie especially had struggled with Niall’s absence, and he
finally said, “It’s my fault. I should have been more … I’m not even sure what.
I should have talked to him more.”
“No, Dad, it’s not you at all. It’s Niall’s disease, and all
the talking in the world probably won’t be much good to him until he’s ready to
reach out for help.”
“I knew he was depressed sometimes. I’d experienced that
myself, more than once.”
“Jamie, you never suffered the kind of depression Niall
has,” Meredith told her husband. “You may have come close once … but with
manic-depression, the lows are something none of us can really understand.”
“Still, I should have done something more. I should have
been more supportive. Niall is … well, there’s a lot of me in him. We want everything
to be … we want … we want life to be perfect for the people we love. And I know
that’s impossible, but I still feel it.” He looked at them, the pain he was
feeling clearly reflected in his eyes.
Both Meredith and Laura put their arms around him. The music
had stopped, and for a few moments the only sound was the ticking of the clock
on the fireplace mantle.
**********
Another month had passed and still nothing. She knew her
parents were very worried, but they were all relieved he was with Bonnie. She’d
keep him safe. That was the operative word these days: they all wanted Niall safe. Bonnie assured them he hadn’t been
drinking, but he was struggling with depression. And now, finally, he was at
her door.
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