It's a blue sky, 30 degree day here in the northwest. We've almost turned the corner on January - the longest month of the year for me. It's been a good month for reading and writing.
Yesterday I put away my writing and began and ended "A Parchment of Leaves" in a few hours. Silas House is a remarkable writer. I think he's the quintessential Kentucky man. If I go to the Kentucky book fair I'm going to get in line (and a long line it's sure to be) and buy his books and have him sign them. He reminds me of Jesse Stuart, Wendell Berry, and a bit of Janice Holt Giles. But he has his own very distinct style and it makes for beautiful reading. My favorite line in the whole novel is the very last line. And there's a scene with Vine and Birdie in a field of spring flowers that reached from the book and wrapped right around my heart. I can't quote it here due to copyright issues. Go ahead and read it yourself and you'll see what I mean.
All books are divided into two classes - the books of the hour, and the books of all time. Mark this distinction: it is a distinction of species. There are good books for the hour, and good ones for all time. -Jon Ruskin
Ruskin omitted one very important detail. There are books of the hour and books of all time. And there are books of the heart. Good writing is really a heart issue. You know what I mean.
I chuckle at the Italian proverb: There is no worse robber than a bad book.
Amen!
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