Communion Of Dreams

Perhaps this time.

For whatever reason, recently I’ve had an interest in pickled eggs.

* * * * * * *

Bits & pieces:

“It is late, and things are not getting better.”

“A gun don’t make you bulletproof.”

“Tribal groups who all have their chieftains.”

* * * * * * *

I’ve had false starts, and false hope, before. In some ways, “false hope” is something of a summary of my life.

Anyway, I’ve been doing a *lot* of thinking about the prequel to Communion of Dreams, titled St. Cybi’s Well. I think this is the fourth of fifth time that I’ve started writing it. Before I’ve gotten as far as a chapter or two, outlines for more of the book. Or sometimes just making notes.

This time? We’ll see. At least some people are asking about it after reading Communion. That helps.

* * * * * * *

Yeah, bits & pieces. But none of those . . . fragments . . . necessarily means what it might seem. As I work through a story, I get these summations, these insights into something a character might think or do. I’ve been thinking a lot about Darnell Sidwell, who is the main character of St. Cybi’s Well. That much I’ve known all along.

And thinking about Darnell is risky. Why? Because he and I are tied together in some ways. Well, more than just occupying too much space in my head, I mean. He’s not an alter-ego of mine or anything, but we are close enough in age and cultural experience that I can’t help but compare myself to him at times. And the comparisons don’t always make me particularly happy.

* * * * * * *

For whatever reason, recently I’ve had an interest in pickled eggs.

Not sure why. I don’t remember eating them as a kid or anything. Frankly, I don’t remember ever having eaten one, though I’m sure I must have.

Eggs. Vinegar. Sugar, salt, spices. I like the way the kitchen smells now.

Sometimes you have to experiment.

Jim Downey

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