Book Bliss

Inside Powell’s bookstore

“A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies,’ said Jojen. ‘The man who never reads lives only one.” ~ George R.R. Martin, A Dance with Dragons

“You’re never alone when you’re reading a book.” ~ Susan Wiggs

Today I’ve just returned from Portland, Oregon. Actually, as I write this, I’m fantasizing about my upcoming trip which begins in a few days, so technically I haven’t gone yet. However, I won’t get back in time to prepare this post, so I’m scheduling it ahead of time.

It’s been nearly twenty-one years since my husband and I moved from Portland to Southern Arizona and believe it or not, we’ve never been back. It was a great place to live mostly because of the scenery, lots of fantastic entertainment, and the great bookstores.

In fact, Portland can boast of having the largest independent bookstore in the entire world. Powell’s City of Books took up an entire city block when we lived there. I can’t wait to see if it has expanded. You can be sure I will be making at least one visit to the store and I plan to buy at least one book while I’m there, more if I can fit them into my luggage for the trip home. As I recall the bookstore had a coffee shop, several levels and rooms each dedicated to a specific genre it may take me several days to explore it. I’ll be taking pictures, you can be sure, and I may dedicate my next Loving Literature video to my experience there.

I haven’t told many people this, but it’s a favorite fantasy of mine to have book readings at the store. It may not happen until I’ve published my fourth or fifth book, but I keep visualizing what it will be like to read and talk to a huge room full of fans about my writing process and share parts of my new book with them. In my mind’s eye it will be a rare sparklingly sunny day with the profusion of flowers, particularly rhododendrons, azaleas, and the roses the city is so known for.

I’m not a very gregarious person, but I hope to strike up some conversations with the employees and maybe interest someone in The Space Between Time. One way I thought I’d do that is to ask for advice on a little known, but great book to buy. Or maybe I’ll sit in the coffee shop writing or reading and find a friendly patron to talk with. I’m determined to be more open to great conversations with people who love books.

Thinking about books and how much reading has done for me, I thought I’d share a scene from my second novel, tentatively titled Time’s Echo. This is a rough draft, and may not end up in the final version of the book but I thought you might be interested in reading it and making comments.

Time’s Echo begins two or three years after the end of The Space Between Time. Jack, Jenna’s husband, has opened his center for the arts. Though Jenna’s primary job is working on her second novel about her experiences with Morgan, her three-times great-grandmother, she also offers classes at the center. In this scene, she and her friend Naomi are wrapping up just such a class. My idea for this novel is that Jenna’s ideas about women that she expresses in her writing and in public will put her and her family in some dangerous situations. This scene shows that not everyone hates her.

 

“Ms. Holden, I wanted to thank you for teaching this class. I had no idea there were so many powerful, and creative women throughout history,” said Amy. She was one of the students who was taking classes on scholarship at the Umpqua Center for the Arts. She was a bright girl. Jenna was glad she had been privileged to have her as a student.

At first Jenna had thought she’d be much too busy writing the next book about her adventures with Morgan, her three-times great-grandmother, to teach classes. Since finding the box containing the journals, she had been living in two worlds. It was sometimes difficult for Jenna to focus on the present moment.

However, Her mother’s dear friend Naomi had suggested the class about prominent women and their contributions to the development of humanity. She offered to team teach the class with Jenna. Given the political climate, the two women saw the class as their way of helping their students see that women have always been making important contributions.

This was the last day of the class. Jenna had thoroughly enjoyed teaching it with Naomi, though they were really more like facilitators. The students were the ones who had chosen women they found interesting, then taught each other about their achievements.

“You’re welcome.” Jenna said to Amy, “I’ve had fun learning about women I had never heard of before. Which woman was your favorite?”

“That’s a hard one to answer. Eleanor Roosevelt I guess. She was one of my favorites because even though she came from a wealthy and powerful family, she always looked for ways to help people, and that made her feel better about herself.”

“I like her too. I hope you’ll consider taking other classes with us.”

“Oh, I will. I want to try acting and some of the art classes. I’ve always wanted to paint.”

“Good for you. I look forward to seeing you around the Center.”

The center was a success because the course offerings were designed for the enrichment and enjoyment of local residents of Roseburg and the surrounding environs as well as drawing students from farther afield. The courses were unique, relatively inexpensive, and weren’t offered anywhere else.

Obviously the class had been a big hit because other students hung around to talk to Naomi and Jenna. What surprised Jenna was the fact that several young men had taken the class. Because of that there had been some lively discussions about the rights of men and women. In the end through consensus, the students decided that the class was really about human rights.

 

Thanks for reading. Feel free to leave a comment or share with a friend.

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Lucinda Sage-Midgorden © 2017

Published by lucindasagemidgorden

I grew up in the West, the descendant of people traveling by wagon train to a new life. Some of their determination and wanderlust became a part of me. I imagine them sitting around the campfire telling stories, which is why I became first a theatre artist, then a teacher and now a writer. They are all ways of telling stories.

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