Peggy Reads Peggy

If you click on their title, you can hear me read a few recorded poems from my original collection of poetry, YOU BECKON. I don't read often, but whenever I have (or do) both Dungeon of My Imagination and Rhino Rising normally are extremely well received. I guess that's why I selected those two to share.

And the third, Gossip, happens to be one that I really like. I've been asked what in the world it's about, and for a while I was reluctant to try to explain it, but once I did the "ah" factor was so rewarding I became less reluctant.

So, here's the scoop on Gossip: Traveling across country on a train through the southwest there is an area in which there are these enormous rocks and boulders, the kind that you find wherever there are mountains or vast hills, but in this area, for what seems like a hundred miles there is absolutely NOTHING but flat land ... no place for these rocks and boulders to have come from. So that is what sparked my imagination ... the "where" of the origin of these southwestern rocks. The kind of unexplainable occurrence that might even have caused the constellations to resort to "gossip".

PS: If you want a copy of an autographed copy of YOU BECKON send me an email at plovewriter@yahoo.com or you can always purchase a copy from Amazon.com or Barnes & Nobel online.

PSS: Coming soon: USHER IN THE SUN

Hawice

The last couple of months have been incredibly difficult. I definitely did not think I'd be revisiting such a painful path so quickly, but less than a month ago I lost my only sister. It is still impossible for me to come to grips with the reality of that, and for now not accepting that reality entirely provides just a very small cushion to get me through each day.

I think I decided to make this entry tonight because there have been a series of things - good thing, very positive things - that have occurred over the last week or so that are the types of things that I would have picked up the telephone to share with her. She would have been as excited or thrilled or hopeful about them as I, if not more so, just as I was with all her victories, adventures, and achievements.

There have been a few other things, flashes of frustration, shock at some newsworthy issue, or some stupidly funny circumstance that I could have only gotten the kind of satisfaction or closure I needed by sharing the incident with her that I obviously wasn't able to. The pain of that void defies all words in any earthly language. It was an emotional pain so great my whole body had to get involved to try to handle because my heart and mind simply couldn't absorb the whole assault.

But there is something else that is incredible. It is that as awesome as the pain of losing her is, the pain of having had her in my life, in my world, as my very own big sister is such a thrill that the knowledge and memory of that, of her is so utterly powerful it has had the ability to assuages the pain and return me to a place of endurance washed in thoughts of her.

So, yes, I'd love to tell her about the short play that was published in a literary journal today, or mention the Writer's Digest article that included a little spill from me on my poetry collection, YOU BECKON, or breathlessly tell her blow by blow about the new opportunities to produce my plays, but I can't. As time goes on acceptance of that will take hold, but not just yet. That's why tonight I needed to tell you about her and about this. Tonight missing her feels like fire.