MOUNTAINS, MEXICAN FOOD, AND A BIRTHDAY

My daughter's seventh birthday was last week. She didn't have school that day so I stayed home from work. She was spoiled to say the least and I don't care. Last year I was in the Sunni Triangle on this day. The day before Easter Sunday I threw her actual party at a place called Boondocks Fun Center. Imagine hundreds of video games, a kiddie playground that goes all the way up to the fifty foot ceiling, laser tag, pizza, miniature golf, hundreds of families, cake and ice cream, go-carts, batting cages, and a humongous climbing wall, and you can perhaps visualize her birthday party. My kids and all their cousins and friends had a good time. It was worth it but I was exhausted after six hours in the place.  

I also recently hiked about halfway up a 10,000 mountain named Mt. Olympus with a buddy of mine. These craggy plates were pushed up from beneath the crust of the earth. And they will move again. They are a working sculpture on which we build multi-million dollar homes, world-class ski resorts, and throw fate's die, hoping they don't land on the fault lines. Arduous and beautiful, these hills. 

The hike is very steep for the first mile or two and breath leaves you fast. The switchbacks veer north and then south. When the cardinal direction is changing and you find yourself peering up at another stretch of trail the desire comes upon you to stop for a few minutes, drink some water, chit the chat.

The vista was beautiful. My friend and I spoke of life. We spoke of coincidence, or the lack thereof, and about synchronicity. But most of the time we simply walked, and breathed, the panorama around us escalating. I left a trail of sunflower seed shells in the dust. These mountains always remind me of native americans because a mere 200 years ago they were the only people inhabiting this valley. I like to imagine the lights of their fires and their dancing shadows in the night.

Within three hours we were off the mountain and having a quick dinner in one of my favorite mexican restaurants. The food was delicious and my post-hike appetite made it even more satisfying, much like the hunger I get after spending time in the water. The place was packed and the smell from the kitchen was a little slice of heaven. Cilantro and lime permeated the sauces. The freshest guacamole in the galaxy seduced taste buds. The pork barbacoa juxtaposed sweet and spicy with perfection . An hour later I was home. And I had the most productive evening I have in weeks. It felt fantastic.

Now for a couple of updates:

The 2006 Writer's Blog Anthology is now available on Amazon. I'm not suggesting you buy it only because I'm one of the authors. Okay, that's probably the main reason. It is described as "a collection of works by writers who blog." If that interests you, then pick up a copy.

Also, Naked Tales: Stories by Writer's Who Blog will be released in May. I'm glad to be part of it, and there are some wonderful short stories in the book.

I have been asked to be part of another anthology, yet to be named, which is aimed at readers in their teens. To quote on of the co-editors: "The book is not about any one war, nor is its purpose to defend or criticize policies (though individual authors may well have strong views). Rather, we are trying to create a book that will allow young people, who face decisions about joining the service, to have a sense of what war is like -- in all of its aspects, best, worst, most intense, most boring. [...] It will be published by Candlewick -- a high respected publisher of books for children and teenagers (a book they published won the National Book Award in the young readers category this year)." Needless to say, I'm very happy to be a part of this project as well. More details as they unfold.

In closing, the quote below epitomizes some of my own personal theories about the art of writing. You have to know the basics of good writing or you'll never pull it off. True, but you also have to describe the world with a perspective that is compelling and unique, like a good photographer using ambient light to make magic where there was once only a lone tree dying in the desert. The well-known author of this quote surely had a gift for this. I mean it's just lovely. It is a perfect sentence, a well-formed thought, and a beautiful image all wrapped up in one short line.

"Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heal that has crushed it."                -Mark Twain

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