“Then there aren’t just a couple jellyfish, they’re everywhere. They’re called a “bloom” because one of the lifeguards calls them that later. “Careful! There’s a bloom, there’s a bloom,” he yelled.”
"There are a million ways to die and they are all the same as each other." That’s going to be one of those lines that never leaves me. And years from now I’ll think, “Who said that? Was it Beckett? Plath? Oh, no, it was Adam”.
This one took me a few goes. When the sense of the boys confusion came through I had to take breathers. And the tar, and the girl, Jesus... It’s been open on my desktop for days. Will probably stay for days, too. Something very strange happens to time, when I read you. One day I’ll figure out what. Or at least find a way to describe it.
I just finished reading it for the first time. It’s terrifying and not all there yet. I have to go back to the beginning. Not right this minute but soon.
View from the stadium of heaven . No matter where you’re seated. What do you see says the boy, were you watching? I have a visual of the girl treading water, I can see her long hair splayed out in the waves of her making , and can see her arms and hand movements in the water .Your words made me feel like the boy from down under, watching. I knew as I read through the first time, I would have to revisit the story again. Another day. Coming back around , I read slower, more deliberate as I take in your words. Real or surreal, even in your choosing when to use, I ,me , or the boy, it is all so calculated. From the master storyteller. As I sit on a dock listening to the waves quietly lapping at the shore on our tiny beach at camp. The sun shimmering on the water. I don’t think there could be a more perfect place, to ‘close the cover of your book’. And whisper to myself, The end. Seriously, one lone Loon is calling in the distance. This was a tough read , but a brilliant one.Then you did this to me; “I got crazy with the thought that I would never get to touch her back when it was her turn not to move.”
And , “I’m coming, mother,” I howled. Then I dove into forever.”
The last few lines were very important to me. The reveals on the person addressed, the mission and then the ones you cite for their language. Sometimes I think I get “the right words, the right order.” You’re the only one who’s pointed those lines out. It’s nice to read that.
Absolutely. The ‘heart’ of the story. As I read, there were other passages that I thought would be the one I would choose to highlight for you. Until I read the ending. I think I might have let out a quiet gasp on the inhale…
Finally had the pleasure of reading this mesmerizing story. I felt immersed in the play of light in water and jellyfish, the stickiness of the tar, the drying of salt on skin, the heat of the bright sun. The sounds of beach - radio, shouts, people talking, surf. It reminds me of "Lincoln in the Bardo," exploring how a ghost experiences time and space and sensation, and your empathy with the ghost coming to terms with -- or not yet? -- the circumstances of their death. I'm intrigued by the possibility that we relive the worst moments of our lives, whether in our alive-life or our dead-life. I always enjoy your artistry with language -- it inspires me to be freer myself.
Adam, wow. I was intrigued when you said a ghost story was forthcoming. You’ve outdone yourself.
The jellyfish is such a perfect touch, an otherworldly image that suits the piece so well. And oh my goodness, the details of this afterlife, the tar, the returning again and again to see from different angles, to want things to be different. Wouldn’t that just be like us as ghosts?
I’m obsessed with this story. Obsessed with the idea that ghosts can grieve, and they howl their way out of pain, returning to alive-life trauma in bits, only as much as they can stomach, and then howl their way out of the pain again. Ouch, it stings just hearingfeeling it. I think of my dad and his head-on collision death and how timid his spirit must’ve been to return to the scene, how much ache can one ghost handle? But then graciously you bring in another, to comfort, to hold, like we’d like to think we do in the alive-life but with so much error. Maybe ghosts can love more completely without all those words, maybe they can help us return each other’s spirits to wholeness while the Marylin’s of this world remain asleep, and well, dead.
Christine, that's great to hear. I had no idea if this was a total miss when I pressed Publish. (I'm still not entirely sure. The comments have been a little quiet here.)
Brilliant. so soulfull. did you find writing in young child speak easy or did it take a while? i think that's the bit I admire the most...that the image of boy never fades because his voice is right.
Thanks, Nick. Yes, you're right. It did take a while and I kept finding things that weren't right and having to fix them. The one thing that was encouraging was that I took all of the text (minus the boy's age being spelled out) and I put it into ChatGPT and asked how old the narrator was and it said 9-11. That was encouraging. I worried at times I was getting too cute with some of it, and then I pulled almost anywhere that it was (too) affected, but of course it's hard to hear, too. In about 6 months, when I revisit it, I'm sure I'll cringe at some of it, but I'm a little relieved it worked for you. Maybe it's just the two of us, though, that think that is a 9-year-old. 😀
i confess to using chatGPT sometimes but never really to create content, more to give options and also factual solidity. if that's a word... get rid of simple mistakes from just lack of knowledge. I really liked story. so haunting and the tar imagery was ... i don't know where you pulled that out from! maybe you need to have had sea tar on your legs as a kid?
Thanks, Nicole. Wonderful to read and very encouraging. It was out there thematically and maybe not for everyone. It has been a little quiet in the comments, so this might be for a smaller audience. Thank you for yours. Feedback is always so appreciated.
Thanks, Van. I remember those scene(s) well. This story - minor trivia note - was actually called Touch for a long time. That was a title I liked and it is obviously a huge part of the story, but I settled in the end on "Howl." Somehow that got to something even more visceral than touch. When I do the notes on this, possibly next week, I'll have more to add here. Thanks for the support and kind works. Means a great deal when people share something on the story. While the comments have been more sparse than usual, they also seem very positive. Thanks for taking the time to leave one.
it’s an interesting point on the balance between letting a reader fill in versus making sure they get it. I removed a lot of “this is exactly what’s happening now” to let the user create a bit. THIS is where early readers are really helpful.
"There are a million ways to die and they are all the same as each other." That’s going to be one of those lines that never leaves me. And years from now I’ll think, “Who said that? Was it Beckett? Plath? Oh, no, it was Adam”.
This one took me a few goes. When the sense of the boys confusion came through I had to take breathers. And the tar, and the girl, Jesus... It’s been open on my desktop for days. Will probably stay for days, too. Something very strange happens to time, when I read you. One day I’ll figure out what. Or at least find a way to describe it.
Thank you for trusting us with this.
Thanks, Chloe.
I just finished reading it for the first time. It’s terrifying and not all there yet. I have to go back to the beginning. Not right this minute but soon.
View from the stadium of heaven . No matter where you’re seated. What do you see says the boy, were you watching? I have a visual of the girl treading water, I can see her long hair splayed out in the waves of her making , and can see her arms and hand movements in the water .Your words made me feel like the boy from down under, watching. I knew as I read through the first time, I would have to revisit the story again. Another day. Coming back around , I read slower, more deliberate as I take in your words. Real or surreal, even in your choosing when to use, I ,me , or the boy, it is all so calculated. From the master storyteller. As I sit on a dock listening to the waves quietly lapping at the shore on our tiny beach at camp. The sun shimmering on the water. I don’t think there could be a more perfect place, to ‘close the cover of your book’. And whisper to myself, The end. Seriously, one lone Loon is calling in the distance. This was a tough read , but a brilliant one.Then you did this to me; “I got crazy with the thought that I would never get to touch her back when it was her turn not to move.”
And , “I’m coming, mother,” I howled. Then I dove into forever.”
The tears fell.
The last few lines were very important to me. The reveals on the person addressed, the mission and then the ones you cite for their language. Sometimes I think I get “the right words, the right order.” You’re the only one who’s pointed those lines out. It’s nice to read that.
Absolutely. The ‘heart’ of the story. As I read, there were other passages that I thought would be the one I would choose to highlight for you. Until I read the ending. I think I might have let out a quiet gasp on the inhale…
Finally had the pleasure of reading this mesmerizing story. I felt immersed in the play of light in water and jellyfish, the stickiness of the tar, the drying of salt on skin, the heat of the bright sun. The sounds of beach - radio, shouts, people talking, surf. It reminds me of "Lincoln in the Bardo," exploring how a ghost experiences time and space and sensation, and your empathy with the ghost coming to terms with -- or not yet? -- the circumstances of their death. I'm intrigued by the possibility that we relive the worst moments of our lives, whether in our alive-life or our dead-life. I always enjoy your artistry with language -- it inspires me to be freer myself.
Thank you, Julie.
Adam, wow. I was intrigued when you said a ghost story was forthcoming. You’ve outdone yourself.
The jellyfish is such a perfect touch, an otherworldly image that suits the piece so well. And oh my goodness, the details of this afterlife, the tar, the returning again and again to see from different angles, to want things to be different. Wouldn’t that just be like us as ghosts?
Oof.
The jellyfish were a lucky discovery. I’ll share some thoughts next week on the tar.
I’m obsessed with this story. Obsessed with the idea that ghosts can grieve, and they howl their way out of pain, returning to alive-life trauma in bits, only as much as they can stomach, and then howl their way out of the pain again. Ouch, it stings just hearingfeeling it. I think of my dad and his head-on collision death and how timid his spirit must’ve been to return to the scene, how much ache can one ghost handle? But then graciously you bring in another, to comfort, to hold, like we’d like to think we do in the alive-life but with so much error. Maybe ghosts can love more completely without all those words, maybe they can help us return each other’s spirits to wholeness while the Marylin’s of this world remain asleep, and well, dead.
I like to think that our instinct would be to heal in some way. Slightly hungover this morning so my confidence is less assured. 😃
Like my dad used to say, “Everything in moderation, including moderation.”
This morning I might dispute that.
Not ready to comment yet. This hurt too much.
This one is pretty intense. I'm taking my foot off the pedal for a few months now.
Riveting...I couldn't stop reading. I felt the different perspectives-the boy, the lifeguards, the girl, the mother...incredible...
Christine, that's great to hear. I had no idea if this was a total miss when I pressed Publish. (I'm still not entirely sure. The comments have been a little quiet here.)
My heart rate was up when I finished reading! This piece drew me in, and I've been thinking of it since reading it. Almost haunting...loved it!
Haunting story. Definitely one that will stay with me a long time. Such clever, beautiful, inventive writing. 👏🏼
This is a lovely note. Thank you for taking the time to share it. 🙏
Brilliant. so soulfull. did you find writing in young child speak easy or did it take a while? i think that's the bit I admire the most...that the image of boy never fades because his voice is right.
Thanks, Nick. Yes, you're right. It did take a while and I kept finding things that weren't right and having to fix them. The one thing that was encouraging was that I took all of the text (minus the boy's age being spelled out) and I put it into ChatGPT and asked how old the narrator was and it said 9-11. That was encouraging. I worried at times I was getting too cute with some of it, and then I pulled almost anywhere that it was (too) affected, but of course it's hard to hear, too. In about 6 months, when I revisit it, I'm sure I'll cringe at some of it, but I'm a little relieved it worked for you. Maybe it's just the two of us, though, that think that is a 9-year-old. 😀
i confess to using chatGPT sometimes but never really to create content, more to give options and also factual solidity. if that's a word... get rid of simple mistakes from just lack of knowledge. I really liked story. so haunting and the tar imagery was ... i don't know where you pulled that out from! maybe you need to have had sea tar on your legs as a kid?
Whoa. This is utterly mesmerizing. I felt that I was WITH the boy the entire time. Truly captivating writing!
Thanks, Nicole. Wonderful to read and very encouraging. It was out there thematically and maybe not for everyone. It has been a little quiet in the comments, so this might be for a smaller audience. Thank you for yours. Feedback is always so appreciated.
"The boy"... and such a searing story.
Thanks, Van. I remember those scene(s) well. This story - minor trivia note - was actually called Touch for a long time. That was a title I liked and it is obviously a huge part of the story, but I settled in the end on "Howl." Somehow that got to something even more visceral than touch. When I do the notes on this, possibly next week, I'll have more to add here. Thanks for the support and kind works. Means a great deal when people share something on the story. While the comments have been more sparse than usual, they also seem very positive. Thanks for taking the time to leave one.
it’s an interesting point on the balance between letting a reader fill in versus making sure they get it. I removed a lot of “this is exactly what’s happening now” to let the user create a bit. THIS is where early readers are really helpful.