KD James is a fellow Reider, and in a fit of clicking on other community members' names today, I found this post about a wonderful birthday gift. This is so worth a click and a grin, if only to read the things she photographed to share with the post itself, but I highly recommend reading the post too. Great gifts are enough to restore your faith in humanity. And happy VERY late birthday, KDJ!!
Also, apropos of my Reider friends - I am still crooked-smiling that Donna Everhart told me my writing voice is very Cormac McCarthy-ish, and then told the whole gang over at Janet's blog today.
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6 comments:
Shoot. How did I miss this?
I read KD James post just now too, and that card gave me a laugh, and then the letter tucked inside...
But then, much like you/me with our lost fathers, the writing of her own Dad in that book was poignant. I think I only have one thing with my father's handwriting. Handwriting is like fingerprints, or our voices - or snowflakes. Individual, unique, and when gone, rare.
And yes, you remind me of McCarthy because I have to run for a dictionary to read some of your stuff, but your voice is all your own. Sometimes I can tell when you've been doing heavy research - or maybe you've spent HOURS on your latest work - such that sometimes your sentences are eloquent and of another time. Then, instead of running for the dictionary, I will re-read them - just for the flow. That's what I mean by voice. Very distinctive.
Credit where it's due, my voice is cribbed from my family's voices, not real work. I was just lucky to get borned to the right parentals.
The tone and rhythm of my voice is deeply Major-ian; my father, my aunt, my uncle ... what memories I have of my grandparents. The way I think owes quite a bit to my mom and her side of the family, too. The way I look at the world is both sides, filtered.
If there's any appearance of intelligence, that's exposure - to people like you and Janet, to the archaeologist and physicists and teachers and amateur historians throughout my family, to the readers who make up all those I love. They drop information and a variety of perspectives on it, and I soak and pick it all up. I'm not smart, merely impressionable. Almost dangerously open, sometimes.
My voice is just a product of what has been a blessed lot of experience. :) But I am thrilled to think you like to read it.
You know, my Dad talked with what was called the Old Raleigh dialect. I wish I'd had him participate in a request by the local paper (News& Observer - or News and Disturber as some call it) where they wanted to record the speech patterns of native Raleighites. Which I am. But my Mom, being from Maine, influenced my speech as well as my Dad.
One thing that was distinct was his use of "John Brown." He never cussed, and would instead say "that John Brown car was giving me a fit." I can still hear him so distinctly in my head, and I hope that never fades. I worry it will. Something else he used to say, "Awww, well, you couldn't help it" which came out as "hep it." It was very subtle, but he would almost, almost drop the "l."
And he pronounced daughter or "dorter." The longer he's gone the more I love him, if that was even possible.
One of the things about love is that's where our immortality lives. Those who go on ahead of us leave seeds with us, and we keep growing.
Thirteen years on and I still want to talk with him about my writing or research, about my job, which I love so much and he'd have been fascinated by the whys and wherefores there. I miss dad's voice, and keep it with me by using the word supper, by pronouncing the word restaurant the way he did, by loving Gossamer and Penelope with the same words he used in loving his family. I try to honor who he was by being worthwhile to my family and friends.
You make your dad's voice sound in my ear; I love talking NC and VA accents with you.
Geez, Diane, I was over here looking for the post you mentioned on Janet's blog today -- I'm assuming it's the one about FF -- and just kept scrolling and reading and found this one. How very flattering to hear you enjoyed my post. Thank you! It was one of those things that even as I wrote it I was thinking, "This will be of absolutely no interest to anyone but me." But decided to post it anyway. Which I guess just goes to show, you never know.
And thanks for the belated birthday greetings. :) I notice you mentioned turing a year older "in five minutes" and am not sure how literal you were being, but regardless... wishing you a very Happy Birthday, too!
:) You interested me! I shared that post with a couple friends, one went all gooey.
My own bday is also the day my dad died, so though that's been thirteen years and it's not a John Brown emotional trial anymore, I just don't generally disclose. But yes, we're at about that time of year - so thank you.
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