Breena Clarke's Blog: A Few Whiles - Posts Tagged "epistolary-fiction"
Alive Nearby
My new novel - my fourth - ponders the intersection of past, present, and future in a series of letters.
Imagining an afterlife keeps humans from losing hold of the one slender concept that keeps us living in the present: hope. Hope is the thing that causes the suddenly traumatized heart to beat once more and then one more and one more time. That’s all it takes to stay alive. And a hoped-for reunion with our loved one nourishes our dreams of Heaven. Since the death of my son, Najeeb, I’ve cultivated a particular concept of the afterlife. Coalescing these fertile pictures with words on a page has taken a long time. "Alive Nearby" is a view of that place. "Alive Nearby" is a work of fiction, an intensely personal clutch of letters that capture a woman’s thoughts and feelings about the intersection of her personal past and her family’s historical records.
Imagining an afterlife keeps humans from losing hold of the one slender concept that keeps us living in the present: hope. Hope is the thing that causes the suddenly traumatized heart to beat once more and then one more and one more time. That’s all it takes to stay alive. And a hoped-for reunion with our loved one nourishes our dreams of Heaven. Since the death of my son, Najeeb, I’ve cultivated a particular concept of the afterlife. Coalescing these fertile pictures with words on a page has taken a long time. "Alive Nearby" is a view of that place. "Alive Nearby" is a work of fiction, an intensely personal clutch of letters that capture a woman’s thoughts and feelings about the intersection of her personal past and her family’s historical records.
Published on June 08, 2023 03:33
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Tags:
alive-nearby, breena-clarke, epistolary-fiction, historical-fiction
A Few Whiles
I knew a boy once who thought that, if there was one while, i.e. a unit – a while of time, then surely there were two whiles and three and so on to several. So, often he would say that he’d be back in
I knew a boy once who thought that, if there was one while, i.e. a unit – a while of time, then surely there were two whiles and three and so on to several. So, often he would say that he’d be back in a few whiles – that he’d only be gone a few whiles. He’d explain that he’d only been gone there - been lollygagging there -- for a few whiles. He meant a half an hour or an hour. It’s been such a long, long while and I am still waiting, I think.
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