As has happened before, a lot more planning went into today’s post, so I’ll try to cover the SoCS portion here in the opening. I suppose I could take advantage of the prompt and do some additional marketing, but I think I’d rather open a beer, and a bottle of Jam Shed Shiraz. You see, Willow Willers and I are joining David at the bar today.
“Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “something that opens.” Use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!”
If we were having a beer, you’d have some questions for Willow and me.
“Happy Saturday, Dan and Welcome back Willow.”
“Welcome back? David, I don’t think I’ve met this woman.”
“Then allow me to make the introduction. Curley, may I present Willow Willers, writer and poet extraordinaire, and I believe she would like a glass of Jam Shed Shiraz. Willow, our favorite bartender, Curley.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Willow. One glass of Jam Shed coming up. I think I know what these two clowns want.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Curley. I think I was here about three years ago.”
“You must be here to talk about the book you wrote with Dan. I need to snag a copy of that.”
“Hang on for a while, Curley, we have an announcement about a brief sale coming up.”
“I like the sound of that, Dan. Willow, here’s your wine. David, your collection of glasses containing John Howell’s Bourbon, seltzer and ice. Dan, a cold Modelo for you. Lady and gentlemen—enjoy.”
“Cheers, Willow and Dan. I must say, I am enjoying your book, and I think I understand why your launch tour has focused on interviews rather than a nice spread of excerpts. Pretty easy to spoil this story with the wrong excerpt.”
“We realized that early on, David. Fortunately, the hosts have been gracious and we’ve managed to get by with the few snippets we felt were safe to share.”
“But no poetry. I know you have a poem in the trailer that I don’t think is in the book—at least I haven’t seen it—but I was hoping to find some poetry along the way.”
“We had one this week at Nancy Richie’s.”
“Yes, Willow, but I’ve seen that one before.”
“Well, since you’re graciously hosting this get-together, I suppose I could share one other poem.”
“Hosting? Dan, did I say I was hosting?”
“I’m sure you did, David.”
“Oh, well then, let’s hear this previously unreleased poem.”
He died before his time a broken man
Memories haunted him to the end
He had no idea of the bigger plan
Lost and alone without a friend.
His wounds were deep inside
Hounded by the men in black
He had no place to hide.
No option but to go off track.
It would have been easier to return home in a body sack.
“Wow. Willow, it’s hard to say that that’s a wonderful poem, but it is. I’ve read enough of the book to understand the meaning—well done.”
“Thank you, David.”
“You’re welcome. Now a question for Dan, well, for both of you, but I’m not sure it applies to you, Willow. Did you know anyone who died in the war?”
“I did. I knew kids who were drafted and were killed. I also knew people who died much later in life, but from issues relating to their experience in Vietnam.”
“You’re still being coy, Dan. Afraid to release those spoilers.”
“It’s a mystery, David, can’t risk it.”
“I get that. Now Willow. You’ve explained in some of the launch posts that you knew about the war, but it seems to have affected you to a greater degree than mere knowledge would. Is there more?”
“Yes, David I really think there is. The war started when I was two years old and ended when I was twenty-two. Apart from seeing the news and reading about the war throughout my younger life and teens, my older brothers and sisters were active in the peace movement like many their age. They would protest outside the American Embassy in London’s Grosvenor Square, where it was situated then. They also bought home some young Americans our house was always an open house. Then in 1972, I was eighteen, I saw the T.V. footage of a Napalm bombing of a village and the horrific scene of villagers and children running towards the camera burnt clothes in tatters some carrying dead children, among them a naked Phan Thị Kim Phúc who became known as Napalm girl…the sight of that little girl burnt but silent is still with me …Plus we had American friends, the husband had suffered with his health ever since he returned from Vietnam… he was regularly under the care of a Vets hospital. He died before his time… he had been exposed to Agent Orange…So no I was far removed from the Vietnam war, but it has touched me.”
“Dan, did you set out to send a message about that war?”
“Not so much a message, David, but I thought that we’re still reluctant to talk about that war in its proper context. We still seem content to avoid the subject.”
“Willow, I can’t imagine this war in particular still stirs the hearts of people in England. Was there a deeper reason to get behind this story?”
“Yes, I can’t believe I am the only person I the UK who still remembers that war in fact those protesters are still around…. Actually, you don’t even need the word War…The word Vietnam is enough to bring it to mind….David , there are so many wars in the world …so we’ve not learnt much have we. All wars including Vietnam have hidden agendas…money and power sadly that will never change.”
“Dan, you’ve said in several posts that ‘Willow became the poet.’ I understand what that means, but I have a question for both of you. I’m curious, what was that like?”
“It was different. I mean, my characters have always talked to me or insisted on telling their part of the story differently than my plan for them, but I’ve never actually had one join me live. I came to enjoy it quickly, even wondering where the Poet might take us next.”
“Willow, were you writing as Willow Willers, or the Poet?”
“Oh! Definitely the Poet his voice was loud and clear… he didn’t like my first poem because it was mine…so he shouted at me…yup he did .. then I let him run with it! “
“How did writing these poems compare to writing your regular poetry?”
“That’s a hard question…I guess the big difference was when I write a story or a poem or a chatty post, I write it Stream of Consciousness….off the cuff. With the poet I had to consider his situation, history, facts and circumstances of the story as it stood. So yes, it was a very different way of writing/ working.”
“Willow, let me refill that glass. I’m sure these guys want another round. Anything else?”
“I’d love an order of Teagan’s mushrooms, if they’re still on the menu.”
“The customers would revolt if we removed those. I better put two orders in, I’ve seen these chowhounds eat.”
“Thanks Curley.”
“OK, before the food gets here, I want to explore one more thing. Dan, you’ve mentioned your work-in-progress. Willow, you shared a snippet of a story you’re working on. Is there anything else you want to say about those projects?”
“I’m too early in the process to say anything else, David.”
“Dan at a loss for words, I never thought this day would come. Willow?”
“I don’t want to disappoint you either David, but I have picked this story up after it’s been lying fallow for a few years….I have spotted a few holes in the story line which I have plugged, now I am wandering where to go next I have a few different directions to play with. I will say because it’s obvious from the snippet it is a police investigation.”
“Here are the drinks. The mushrooms will be right up. Dan, you mentioned something about a sale…”
“I did. Curley. Amazon has this thing called a Countdown Sale. It’s where you pick a low price for your book and gradually raise it back up to the full price over the course of seven days.”
“You’re doing that now? I would think you’d start out with something like that.”
“I wanted to, but you can’t do it if the price has changed within the last thirty days. So, we’re going to celebrate the final week of the launch tour by lowering the price as of midnight (Pacific time) Wednesday (July ninth) and raising it gradually after we visit with Darleen Foster and Jan Sikes. It will be priced at ninety-nine cents Wednesday through Saturday afternoon, then at one-ninety-nine through Tuesday.”
“But nothing today?”
“Fear not, Curley. Starting tonight at midnight, again, Pacific time, the Guide to Pittsburgh I published will once again be available for free. That can only run for three more days, again, according to Amazon rules, but there it is.”
“So, I can get the guide for free when I wake up tomorrow and I can buy Poetic Justice for ninety-nine cents after visiting Darlene Forster’s blog on Wednesday?”
“Correct, Curley.”
“That sounds like a couple of good deals, Dan.”
Of course, you can buy Poetic Justice now, I mean, if you can’t wait. If you haven’t seen the trailer, it’s below. If you’re looking for a bunny, keep scrolling.
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