Author’s NotePosted: February 5, 2016
I treated my training in Atlanta like a vacation; I didn’t write a word more than I felt obliged to. I vowed to post daily, so I did, but nothing of substance. Except maybe the haiku. Now we can get back to our regularly scheduled programming.
Like where Homecoming came from.
I read a story once in an 80s-era copy of Asimov’s Science Fiction called Sea Change or Sea Changes. All I can find on Google is a Hemingway story–definitely not it.
It’s a about a trader trying to finish tanning her hides to bring them back to sell, but comes upon a stranger who’s helpless as a baby. She camps to care for him, and gradually, his lost malaise seeps into her psyche, while he takes over her tanning and trading, leaving her behind to stare vacantly into space as he rides off with her gear and her pack animal.
That story has stuck with me for most of my life. Not the plot so much as the technique, the feel of the thing. I’ve tried many times to write something that feels the same way as that story, and I never have until now.
It feels good. It feels right. It’s that feeling when you’re struggling to put an earring in a seldom-used hole without a mirror, and finally it slips right in. It feels like I finally did it justice.
I think it’s because I combined Sea Change(s?) with Prufrock. Two pieces of writing that have always called to me and inspired me, brought together into one. It flowed out so easily.
It wrote itself. That’s how I know it’s right.
Although it could use a slight bit of tweaking.