Saturday, November 23, 2013

The reeds

            Here I am in Boston, at last. An immersive writing experience to remember sensory and spatial details for my new novel, Sketchtasy. Already this feels like a great thing. I forgot about the wind in the Back Bay — oh, the wind. And, the trees in the middle of Commonwealth Avenue, so wide like a park. I remembered it was wide, but I didn’t remember it was a park. And the grand old buildings — four, five, six, or even seven stories here and there, where as I remembered only two and three. The way the John Hancock Tower changes into the sky in the middle of the day, you can even see a cloud reflected at the top. If there is a cloud. And then at night so dark the glass is black, reflecting every light. The way the East-West blocks are so long. And the reeds in the Fens, 10 feet high or maybe even higher. If someone had said that to me before I got here, I would’ve said they were exaggerating. And, the sound of the reeds, the sound of the reeds in the wind.

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