Passing the Torch: My Daughter is now The Mom Who Tells Stories, vs. Nobody Reads Dune.

Alia's friends have always asked her: 

How's your mom? Does she have any stories?

I told her to refer them to this blog. It's not as fun as in person, but it uses all the same words. 

Last night Alia did me to me: 

AJ: Mom, did I tell you about Mackinac Island? 

me: No...

AJ: Okay, so when Polly and I were on Mackinac Island, we were just trying to get out of the sun and the heat...

(me, internally: I did not know about this trip. I've never been to Mackinac Island.)

AJ: ...and found a "strip mall" which was really more like a hallway with doors into 4 stores, and one of them was a book store. and we went in, and nobody was there because nobody goes to Mackinac Island to buy books...

me: I would. 

AJ: ::leans into the camera with a mom-face:: ANYWAY, there was nobody in there buying books on Mackinac Island. And there at the front was a display of the book Dune. So I yell, "Hey Polly, look! Here's the book where my mom got my name." And the tall, skinny, creepy bookstore guy - I mean he had long stringy gray hair and coke-bottle glasses - he appears out of nowhere and says: 

Your name comes from that book??

And I say, "Yeah. My mom read it while she was pregnant with me."  His eyes behind his coke-bottle glasses got huge, which means through the glasses they were enormous, and he says:

NOBODY READS THAT BOOK.

She should have signed one of them for him. Or all of them. But I realize now that the torch has been passed: the way she animated and colored her story proves I influenced her somehow despite my best efforts. She  understood that her observations were the story, not just what was said. I am so pleased. I did a thing right, somehow, after all.

Alia, that's the next step: when you're in a bookstore and see that book, Dune, on display, sneak one off to the side and leave a message in it, signed Alia, in case someone actually reads it one day.

Further Readings: 

Dune, by Frank Herbert   I did indeed read Dune while my daughter was gestating, in a tiny motel room on Highway 61 in New Orleans while we were looking for a place. She decided to exit early, and her first bed was a dresser drawer. Later in life, I tried to read the trilogy but the magic was lost.

Polly, this is for you: 

Beyond Words Literary Magazine, Issue 7   My  piece The Zorya (which was still unfinished at the time) is featured in this issue of Beyond Words, alongside an excellent narrative poem, or piece of literary fiction...I'm not sure what to call it, so it suits me perfectly. This magazine is mailed from Berlin, Germany, which I think adds to the cool factor.

Jerry Jazz Musician - I don't believe they have hard copies for sale, but I am especially proud of my work published at Jerry Jazz Musician and I really love everything they do.


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