By Adele Annesi

Word for Words is by author Adele Annesi. For Adele's website, visit Adele Annesi.

Friday, May 15, 2009

"A Subtle Good-Bye," by Lalitha Jonnal


Then I stopped in front of him for a moment, not being able to say anything. He sat on the cement bench that circled a shade tree, pondering, sitting in a lotus position, eyes gazing far away. Most of the people around me were teary eyed and sniffling away their sadness as the farewell music piped through all the loudspeakers in the yard. I looked up at his face…into his eyes…

"I will be back Babu," I said softly as my sorrow shut my voice. Tears that were hiding behind my eyes poured out, drop by drop. A brief nod was his only answer…no tears or words. But as I turned away, the corner of my eye caught his wink, just a glimpse. That was our secret for many years when I was growing up. Whenever I expressed fear or sadness, he would wave his palm over my head in a wide arc and murmur, "Shoo, shoo, go away. Never come another day."

The music made everyone cry…the song was about saying goodbye to a daughter as she went to her mother-in-law's house for the first time after her wedding. My husband stood by my side…part of him feeling the melancholy and the other part feeling angry about my crying, maybe. So many complicated emotions held in that moment. My mother stood aside…happily smiling that finally I got married, but crying too.

Father's nod had so many meanings, I understand today. He had to give his oldest daughter away and send her to a place ten thousand miles away, with a stranger. Somewhere in his heart he knew this stranger would take good care of his first-born.

I listened to this assurance and trusted him, to be taken away to America not knowing anything about America or my new husband!

Father's nod…such a subtle good bye! He knew that we maybe distancing ourselves but he would always be close to me. Maybe in his silence, many promises were held. Today after thirty years of that goodbye and twenty years of his passing away, I recognize his promises in hundreds of moments. "I will always be with you"… "Think of me when you pray and I will be there giving you answers" … "I will explain the universe to you so you will feel close to god"… "Tell me what makes you sad…I will help to ease it away"

I have physically felt his comforting assurance around me. His spiritual, philosophical words ring in my ears and bring a knowing smile in my heart. Sometimes I hear him laugh at my childish thoughts.

Now I understand why his goodbye was very subtle and simple…he never intended to say it…he could not say it… his love for me was too much for that…he was always going to be close to me. Yes, that was definitely a wink.

A Year Later

Kris suggested that we go celebrate...drink, dine and dance. I was new to all of this...never drank or ever danced. As tears filled my eyes with hesitation, he hugged me and whispered, "Sweet heart, this is a new country...a new way of life." A gentle man's gentle plea. So, I picked a red saree with little black flowers. My husband 'ooh'ed and sat on the bed to watch me dress, but I walked into our huge closet as he laughed at my shyness.

I came out a few minutes later and stood in front of him.

"You are gorgeous." His eyes smiled. I looked away shyly, avoiding the sweet desire in his eyes. He looked dapper in his suit.

We drove to the restaurant and sat at a corner table, overlooking the pond.

He ordered a bottle of champagne, winking at me. We ordered our favorite South Indian Thalis. Spicy aromas wafted from many small steel bowls filled with different dishes, around a mound of fragrant basmati rice. We ate it all.

Then we shared a bowl of mango ice cream, licking our spoons and smacking our lips. After paying the bill, he led me onto the back porch and we ended up at the edge of the pond. Dropping his jacket on a small rock, he whispered, "This is where we dance, away from the others, just you and me."

I was shy, but filled with a love so sweet! Taking my hands, he twirled me around, eyes roving with desire. I just followed him. After a while, we stood together, holding hands in silent joy.

He removed his shirt and then the T-shirt underneath. Hugging me close, he whispered, "traditions' and pulled the T-shirt down over my head. Taking out the half-done bottle of Champagne from his pants' pocket, he took a few sips and handed it to my lips. I drank. Then he took my hands and twirled me around as giggles burst out into the night from a light and happy face.

We were exhausted and giddy. He removed his shirt, and holding it high above his head, he threw it into the air. I took my T-shirt off too. A giggle escaped as I lifted it up and threw it as far as I could.

He lifted my chin. I thought, for a kiss. He lifted it higher and pointed to the bright full moon, showering us in cool splendor. As I turned back to his face, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the moon wink. Yes, I am sure of it. Just like a year ago, my father winked, telling me to be happy with a good man. How did the moon know that? Probably my father told the moon ten hours ago, that it was our special night and to look out for us.

That special wink! Could I ever forget?

A Few Years Later

When she thought no one was looking, little Maya softly toddled to my open purse and emptied it all over the kitchen floor. She took out the lipstick and marked all over her face… a hit and miss game at her lips. Vermilion squiggles and dots galore, she grabbed the soft Kleenex, wiped it around. Her face now looked like the sunset in sky. She dipped her fingers deeper into the purse and pulled them up high,

brought up nickels, pennies and dimes as her pudgy little fingers counted again and again, "One," "Two'", "Seven'," "Ten," and a jubilant "Hundred."

Pride, fear, joy and hope could be seen, possibly some dreams of turning the candy machine.

Picking up my key bunch, she ran to the door and jiggled and jaggled, cheeks puffed with such will. The door did not budge, so she came back to her till and picked a few hair things and played with her curls.

Then she opened my compact and looked at her face and the stranger in there scared the hell out of her. Tiny screams filled the air and tears ran down her cheeks.

"Mommee…" She ran blindly all over the house. I could not stop laughing and hearing my voice, my giggles and "Ohs," she ran to the curtain behind which I was hiding. I picked her up, hugging and kissing, her makeup and all.
We sat next to the window, rocking till her screams subsided and slowly smiles ran across her chubby mouth. I did not notice when she had fallen asleep and I too lazily leaned on the armrest of the couch and joined in her dreams.

The door opened and woke me up. My husband stood in front of us, looking down with much love and joy in his eyes. As a loud laugh escaped his lips, I put my finger on mine and hushed him. He bent over and kissed my lips and asked, "Mmm, which one is this?"

I pointed to my purse, where different lipsticks lay open with their creamy insides all flattened. Then I nudged my daughter's face that was hiding in my heart, toward him. He sat down and brought his arms around us.

Time passed and my daughter wiggled in my lap. Feeling daddy's hairy arms around her, she leaned over and gave a big smooch on his lips. He winked, the new thing he had been teaching her, to tease me together. She winked back with glee. I ran my tongue over my lips and 'Oooh'…the taste of all that lipstick…how could I ever forget?

And the winks! They remind me of the day I left my dad's home… of the night I threw away my shirt and danced in the moonlight as the moon winked back at me with the blessings of my father. And today's winks, of my daughter and my husband…they continue to remind me of the love that has filled my life.

Twenty Years Later

My little baby is all grown up and in her white wedding sari. My husband and I stand in front of her and my new son-in-law…ready for the big hug of the biggest moment in her life. She is happy and brimming with laughter. But her eyes are misted. The old mental image of the young me leaving my father's house, as he seat at the foot of the big banyan tree…came back to me, swift and sad.

What is it that makes this universe continue the way it does? Men and women…coming together…bringing more souls onto this earth to do the same things that they have done! I am happy too…but only for her. My sorrow is for myself…from now on, our conversations will not be only about the three of us that have been a family for the last two decades. Her husband will be the center of her heart, soul, conversations…everything. Just like it should be…for eternal love to grow into the strongest tie that will keep them together till the end of life.

I look at my husband and I see in his eyes, the pain of saying good-bye. I hold his hand tight, enough to hurt, to forget the pain.

He squeezes it back and his eyes tell me something more. They tell me that he now understands what my father felt for me…finally…his 'Aha moment'. It is funny how, all the lecturing I might have tried to do, to make him understand that I was not sad to go with him…that it was only for leaving my family of decades till then…was never enough. Only this moment was. I should have just waited. But I did not think of this till now. We all imagine only the sweet moments we all want to experience. Who really imagines the sorrows of life?

The newly weds stand in front of us and bend down to touch our feet for a blessing. The ancient Indian custom is filled with respect and love from both the giver and receiver of a blessing. My son-in-law is not from India, but somewhere deep inside in him, there is a reverence for all that is good and beautiful in this universe. He surrendered to that and to a happy future that would bring more blessings…of love, peace and joy.

My husband laughed through his tears as he picked them both up and hugged them together.

"Group hug, mom," my daughter gathered me inside…and winked. I think she remembered her grandfather doing it. I think his love has flowed into my heart once again.

I also felt that he conveyed one more message. No more winks from him. Now that has been passed on to my husband…he will be the one taking care of all my loving needs. Now that I have grown up, with a grown up daughter of my own, my husband will wink and that will mean his total and eternal love for me.

Aah…life is like this.

It passes as fast as a wink, but it brings fun and laughter.

Now, there is nothing to feel sad, I realized. She has brought all of us together, rather than walking away from the two who gave her life and helped her become the wonderful human being that she has.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Out My Window: Seeing Clearly

Generally, my writing space is pretty dismal. Oh, it's a nice enough room, as rooms go, but it's glacial in winter and blistering in summer. It used to be a porch, so there's no insulation. But there are windows. So, you’d think there would be light here. There is, but not in early morning.

If you're a morning person or even if you're not, you know the importance of that first hour. Especially if you're stumbling out of the bedroom (even after coffee) to sit down and write, hobbling into a cold, dark tomb of a writing space doesn't help. Because in those first hours, even with windows, my writing room is dark. My soul feels dark, too.

One advantage of this is that the inner darkness, partly inspired by, partly caused by the outer darkness, has a settling effect. It weights me, emotionally, to my writing chair. Since there's nothing else, I'm left to write, until the day opens up and the light comes, which can take hours, and in winter seems on some days not to happen at all. It makes me consider how important seeing, even when it's not with outward vision, is to writing, not to mention everything else.

In the book Writing Fiction, a Guide to Narrative Craft, Janet Burroway writes this in the chapter on showing versus telling. "The points to be made here are two, and they are both important. The first is that the writer must deal in sense detail. The second is that these must the details 'that matter.'"

At the moment, it's midday and the sun is shining, the neighbor's white dogwood is in bloom, birds are singing and the row of hemlock bushes is greening. Amazing what you can see when there's light.

How does what you see, or don't see, in your writing space, whether it's a formal office or a space in Starbucks, affect you?

For a way to put today's musing into action, check out the writing tip at the top of the list.

Let me know how it goes.

Monday, May 4, 2009

Everlasting Vision, Ever-Changing View

I’d like to thank author and teacher Jamie Cat Callan for being our guest blogger and instructor for April. We’re looking over the contest entries and will choose a winner by the end of this month.

It strikes me as I read over Jamie’s posts and think back to the days when I studied with her at Fairfield University how important those first classes were. Those were fragile, special times when a budding writer and editor could easily have been crushed. Some of us were sharing our work publicly for the first time, but Jamie made it safe. She had a way of listening not only to what we writers of varied backgrounds and talents were saying, but what we wanted to say and often had trouble expressing. By listening with the heart, she would compliment us whenever we came up with something, anything, decent, then gently steer us out into deeper waters. Those were nurturing times and essential for writers who are starting out or starting over, with second or third or fourth careers.

Those times also were preparatory for tougher days, when competition would become stiff and sharp-edged, with no time to dwell on the writing over a cup of tea. The tea gets put aside and grows cold quickly as the many responsibilities of writing as a vocation or an avocation clamor to be met. Now it’s coffee on the go, because tea isn’t strong enough anymore, and coffee seems more portable.

That’s why it’s refreshing to rediscover the tools Jamie shared with us and the right-brain-ness of her technique. She found a way to encourage the outlandish while directing it toward something workable. She could take the threads of thought from our often tangled writing and show how they could be woven into an eclectically lovely tapestry. Then she taught us to see connections in the seeming randomness. It’s a wonderfully ethereal way to think that is easily suffocated in a puzzle piece culture where things seem like they always have to fit.

With wit and wisdom, Jamie’s ability to cultivate right-brain-ness became the essence of The Writer’s Toolkit. If you didn’t get a chance to check it out during the contest, take a look at the next time you’re in Borders. You’ll find within its quirkiness a way to approach writing that allows the work form but still lets it fly.

“My life has been a tapestry of rich and royal hue, an everlasting vision of the ever-changing view.” Carole King, from the album Tapestry.

Happy writing!

Monday, April 27, 2009

The Ah Ha! Moment

This is it, writers. You've only got 500 words to go, and your short short story is complete. Or perhaps, you've now realized you've got the beginnings of a full-length story or even a novel.

Whatever you're writing, you will now want to bring us to a moment of discovery. This discovery might lead to your epiphany—the ending of your short story. Or it could lead to a larger conflict and a bigger story. It's up to you. Whatever you decide, your readers want a "ah ha!" moment right about now.

How to do this? I would take a look at your first 250 words. Inside the text there's an image. Something a little quirky, perhaps. It's definitely sensory and a little mystery. It makes you a little nervous—this image. You've been tempted to edit it out, but it's a good thing you didn't, because now, I would like you to take this image and repeat it at the end of your climactic moment. Let it spin and twist the narrative. Let it blossom into something unexpected. Give your protagonist a line of dialogue that reveals something completely new and yet familiar.

Have fun with this. Don't stress over it. Enjoy. Breathe. And now, your story is done! I can't wait to see the winner!

With love and luck,
Jamie

Respond by sending your entry to wordforwords@sbcglobal.net. When the contest closes, we'll announce the winner and post the entry on the blog. The winner will receive The Writer's Toolbox.
This is it, writers. You've only got 500 words to go, and your short short story is complete. Or perhaps, you've now realized you've got the beginnings of a full-length story or even a novel. Whatever you're writing, you will now want to bring us to a moment of discovery. This discovery might lead to your epiphany-the ending of your short story. Or it could lead to a larger conflict and a bigger story. It's up to you. Whatever you decide, your readers want a "ah ha!" moment right about now. How to do this? I would take a look at your first 250 words. Inside the text there's an image. Something a little quirky perhaps. It's definitely sensory and a little mystery. It makes you a little nervous--this image. You've been tempted to edit it out, but it's a good thing you didn't, because now, I would like you to take this image and repeat it at the end of your climactic moment. Let it spin and twist the narrative. Let it blossom into something unexpected. Give your protagonist a line of dialogue that reveals something completely new and yet familiar. Have fun with this. Don't stress over it. Enjoy.Breathe. And now, your story is done! I can't wait to see the winner!With love and luck, Jamie

Monday, April 20, 2009

The Taste of Lipstick

Hi, Readers:

Here you are—in the home stretch. Your story is getting complicated, a little wild. Perhaps it even feels as if things are getting out of hand, and you are no longer completely in control of the narrative.

In fact, your characters are doing all sorts of unexpected things and my goodness—your protagonist is really misbehaving! It would seem that he or she has completely veered off course and is no longer following any preconceived plan that you may have come up with when you started this exercise. Things are downright crazy, and you feel as if you are lost in the forest and the sun is going down and you forgot your flashlight!

Well, congratulations! This is exactly where you should be in your story. You are reaching toward your climactic moment, the three-quarter mark. This is the time when most writers get a little nervous. And knowing that you only have one more exercise to go after this, may be leading you to want to wrap things up. Resist this urge! You will have next week to worry about tying up loose ends and creating a satisfying resolution. For now, for this moment, for this week—go wild. Allow your characters to say unforgettable/unforgivable things. Let them take action. Get physical. Push the story into dangerous places. Let the story surprise even you.

Here is your new prompt. I'm taking it from the "Sixth Sense Cards" in The Writers Toolbox. This is a visual and sensory image and you can do anything you want with it. But, be sure to have fun!

See you next week for the big finish!

"the taste of lipstick"

Respond by sending your entry to wordforwords@sbcglobal.net. When the contest closes, we'll announce the winner and post the entry on the blog. The winner will receive The Writer's Toolbox.

Monday, April 13, 2009

A New Direction

Hello, Word for Word Readers—

First of all, congratulations! You've made the big leap and have begun your story! Characters have introduced themselves to you. Situations have emerged. Complications abound! And you are in the middle of it all. What an exciting time in the process!

Okay, so now that you've done all this, it's time to push forward into a new direction. I'm about to give you a nonsequitur sentence, which is simply a transition I've randomly pulled from The Writers Toolbox. It's designed to throw you a little off course. Don't worry, it won't be painful! However, it will get you to think outside the box and take your narrative into a new direction you couldn't have possibly predetermined. This is the whole point of right brain writing—to keep your story fresh and organic. It gets the writer's critical/analytical left-brain out of the way so that your story's twists and turns will surprise even you.

Okay, so here's what I'd like you to do. Take a look at the sentence below and then just "live" with it for a few days. Let it sink into your subconscious mind. Walk around with it in your head, but wait until Saturday or Sunday to begin writing. You're going to take this sentence and add it onto the first 500 words of your story. Don't worry about whether it connects or even makes sense right away. Go with the flow. Write quickly without overthinking. Don't censor yourself or try too hard to make it make sense. This is the part of your story that is still opening to the world, so anything is possible. It's time to take some literary risks, since you're approaching what screenwriters call "the midpoint crisis," so this is no time to be timid. Let it rip! And have fun! Now here's your nonsequitur:

We were drinking champagne and losing our shirts.

Write just 500 words. I'll be back next week with another prompt to add to your story.

Respond to the prompt by sending your entry to wordforwords@sbcglobal.net. When the contest closes, we'll announce the winner and post the entry on the blog. The winner will receive The Writer's Toolbox.

Friday, April 3, 2009

Writing From the Right Side of the Brain

Hello, writers—I'm thrilled to be the guest blogger on Adele's fabulous site! I'm the creator of The Writer's Toolbox: Creative Games and Exercises for Inspiring the "Write" Side of your Brain.

Writing from the right side of the brain means writing from that part of your brain that's intuitive and nonlinear, and maybe even a little illogical. When you write from the right side of your brain, you're willing to make unexpected leaps and transitions in the narrative that doesn't always make sense—not at first glance, anyway, but later down the road, it does make sense. But all this involves a leap of faith and a willingness to take creative risks.

Actually, it's very similar to the technique improvisational actors and musicians use to create original scenes and unexpected riffs. You've seen it on Who's Line is It Anyway?, where a character playing, say, the part of a new doctor will get a line from the audience, and even though it would seem very odd for someone playing a doctor to pronounce, "There's nothing I like better than a ripe banana!" the actor makes it work, and somehow makes it make sense. That's the challenge and that's the delight of the right brain—whether you're acting or painting or making music or writing.

But rather than talking about it, let me show you. Let's get started on a game. Here's your first sentence, taken directly from The Writer's Toolbox:

Dad gave me a wink, like we were pals or something.

Now, you've got one week to write the first 500 words for the beginning of a short story. No more. Just 500 words. Next week, you'll get a nonsequitur sentence. Week three, you'll get another and, finally, a last prompt to take you to the end of your story.Oh, and have fun!

Respond to the prompt by sending your entry to wordforwords@sbcglobal.net. After the month-long contest closes, we'll judge the entries, and the winning entry will be announced and posted on the blog. The winner will receive The Writer's Toolbox.