I Could Write a Book<\/a>.” I read this just playing the melody and voicing the chords, taking the time to read the text. This kind of choked me up a bit.<\/p>\n“If they asked me, I could write a book
about the way you walk and whisper and look.
I could write a preface on how we met
so the world would never forget.
And the simple secret of the plot
is just to tell them that I love you a lot.
Then the world discovers as my book ends
how to make two lovers a friend.”<\/p>\n
Yikes! Who’s guiding this random sample!
(Do I need to revisit my opinions about God?)<\/p>\n
Anyway, to get the mist out of my vision, I read it in tempo, with boom-chicks and some swing.<\/p>\n
[Class was the same as yesterday, except that the instructor dropped the pop song. Applause at the end was scattered and not aimed at me. Did I fail? I don’t really think so. I just think the dancers are now distracted by the deepening rehearsal process. I hit the road.]<\/i><\/p>\n
[Repeat my opening paragraph, as in a Rondo.]<\/i>
<\/i>
<\/i> I came home to write in the comfort and privacy of my own home, in the off chance I needed to have a bit of privacy while doing it. Now why would this be? I went over all of this last evening with Del, but I don’t much feel like sharing. I could write (another) book. I might. I should. Though – I haven’t sold the first one yet. It’s good to have a fertile imagination, to not be running dry. But I also might just let it hang for the next few months. Let the fictions be truly hammered out in the summers. Do I think I’ll forget this story? If it’s really my horse, it will return to me.<\/p>\n
[I’ve got the first sentence, though not the title:<\/i>
“Shit,” he exclaimed. “I’ve been cut off!”<\/i>
<\/i>
Despite my desire to silence the voice that speaks this pack of lies,<\/i>
the argument does not cease:<\/i>
<\/i>
“I’d been lobbing pebbles up at that window for a fortnight, standing in the streetlight, rain or shine. Sometimes, I saw the light. Sometimes there was a shadow there. Sometimes, I saw the curtain drawn an inch or so as if someone were peeking. A barrage of pebbles, after all, can be upsetting. Especially after hours. Sure enough, I saw the plywood go up as if in preparation for a hurricane. I heard the pounding of the hammer loud and clear. Now what? Go find a bigger rock? Now comes the courrier with a note on lilac paper. What’s this? I’ve been granted an audience it seems. But still the hammering continues. The meaning of all of this is obscure. It is not a negotiation, it is a contradiction. It is time to return home. Return home. Do I remember where that is? If I can find the way I’ll be welcome.”<\/i>
<\/i>
The truth of the matter is way too much reality for a piece of fiction. So no. I can’t\/won’t go into any of it here.]<\/i><\/p>\n
Other than that, there’s no way to go but back with my survey of dance and music. What have I seen in the course of the 30 odd years?<\/p>\n
That, little Adam, is another story…<\/div>\n
[and who’s reading this at this point, after all…]<\/i><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"[Not following my previous practice, I returned home right after class. It took me a while to get home, though […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-133","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ken-beck.com\/words\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/133","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ken-beck.com\/words\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ken-beck.com\/words\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ken-beck.com\/words\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ken-beck.com\/words\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=133"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.ken-beck.com\/words\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/133\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ken-beck.com\/words\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=133"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ken-beck.com\/words\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=133"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ken-beck.com\/words\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=133"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}