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Grieving Became My Teacher

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I wrote Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again in real time. Grieving became my teacher. It taught me many valuable lessons. Here is an excerpt illustrating one of those lessons:

“I learned those who grieve become invisible to many people. I now know what it is like to walk among those who grieve. In the past, if I caught a hint of their suffering, I kept them at a safe distance. I offered a short hug and kind words such as, “I’m sorry for your loss,” and “Let me know if there is anything I can do.” I now walk among them, invisible to those who have not yet experienced grieving.”

Ordering information for the paperback or ebook version of Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again may be found here.

Excerpt From Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again by Ray Calabrese

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Grieving’s Tough – You’ll Pull Through

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Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again tells my story of grieving the loss of my best friend and wife; and, my efforts to learn to live again. My wife, Babe, was as healthy as any human being can get. She was a vegetarian, exercised regularly, and never felt sick, until … She was diagnosed with stage IV glioblastoma. Ten weeks after her diagnosis, I said goodbye. My grieving began. That was nearly three years ago. I began writing as soon as the last guest left because I wanted to document what I experienced and see if I could find a way through my living hell. It wasn’t easy. The low points always seemed to have an upper hand. There were times when I thought I’d never be happy. I found my way through. I’m now happy. I don’t have what I once had, but I’m grateful I had it. 

Over the next few weeks I will share excerpts from Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again with you. If you are grieving, or have deeply grieved a loss, you’ll relate. If you’ve not experienced a deep loss, the book will help to understand the grieving experience of those you know and love .

Ordering information for the paperback or ebook version of Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again may be found here.

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Ray Bradbury’s Writing Wisdom #11

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Read poetry every day of your life. Poetry is good because it flexes muscles you don’t often use enough. Poetry expands the senses and keeps them in prime condition. It keeps you aware of your nose, your eyes, your ear, your tongue, and your hand. And, above all, poetry is compacted metaphor or simile. ~ Ray Bradbury

Quote on Writing by E. L. Doctorow

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Writing is like driving at night in the fog. You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way. ~ E. L. Doctorow

Recommend Reading for Aspiring Writers by Stephen King

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Recommended Reading for Aspiring Writers by Stephen King

Richard Bausch, In the Night Season

Paul Bowles, The Sheltering Sky

T. Coraghessan Boyle, The Tortilla Curtain

Michael Chabon, Werewolves in Their Youth

Roddy Doyle, The Woman Who Walked into Doors

Alex Garland, The Beach

Peter Hoeg, Smilla’s Sense of Snow

Mary Karr, The Liar’s Club

Barbara Kingsolver, The Poisonwood Bible

Jon Krakauer, Into Thin Air

Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It and Other Stories

Frank McCourt, Angela’s Ashes

Ian McEwan, The Cement Garden

Larry McMurtry, Dead Man’s Walk

Joyce Carol Oates, Zombie

Tim O’Brien, In the Lake of the Woods

Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient

Richard Russo, Mohawk

Vikram Seth, A Suitable Boy

Anne Tyler, A Patchwork Planet.

Source: Open Culture

Kurt Vonnegut’s 8 Tips on Writing a Short Story

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Kurt Vonnegut on Writing a Short Story

  1. Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted.
  2. Give the reader at least one character he or she can root for.
  3. Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water.
  4. Every sentence must do one of two things–reveal character or advance the action.
  5. Start as close to the end as possible.
  6. Be a sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them–in order that the reader may see what they are made of.
  7. Write to please just one person. If you open a window and make love to the world, so to speak, your story will get pneumonia.
  8. Give your readers as much information as possible as soon as possible. To heck with suspense. Readers should have such complete understanding of what is going on, where and why, that they could finish the story themselves, should cockroaches eat the last few pages.

Learn From Reading Don Quixote

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Today’s Quote on Writing by Jack London

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You can’t wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club.

Jack London

26 ~ Gillis Informs Pickle Politically Correct Police are Not Allowed in The Golden Wok

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26

Gillis pointed  to the baldheaded black guy behind the buffet line. He said, “He’s the killer.”

“Who, Do Re? Impossible. He likes you. He doesn’t hold any grudges about you sending him up,” said Pickle.

“That’s not Do Re,” said Gillis.

“That’s not Do Re? You sure?” Pickle tried squinting hoping he’d have a better view. He stopped squinting and leaned toward Gillis. He spoke softly, “It’s not politically correct, but I have a hard time telling blacks apart, they all look alike to me.”

“Not to worry, Dill. They don’t allow politically correct police inside the Golden Wok. Do Re told me he has the same problem with white people. As for me, I don’t have a problem telling people apart. I was born with the gift of an inner eye. See the guy in the corner running the craps game? That’s Do Re,” said Gillis pointing to a baldheaded black man reaching for the dice.

“Do Re? What’s he doing over there?” asked Pickle.

“That’s not Do Re. I was testing you. He looks like Do Re, but he’s not Do Re,” said Gillis.

“I can’t tell them apart,” said Pickle.

“It’s a common mistake. There’s only two people in the world who can tell Do Re, Leon, and Buttercup apart. Their mother and me. They are identical triplets. The guy behind the buffet is Buttercup. Buttercup is our killer. The guy running the craps game is Leon. Do Re is our waiter,” said Gillis.

“Follow me,” said Gillis picking up both boxes of pizza and carrying them over to the large aquarium. Five large carp swam contentedly around a large plastic coral reef. Gillis opened the pizza boxes and dumped the pizza into the aquarium. Gillis and Pickle watched the pizza sink to the bottom as it were loaded with lead. The five carp attacked the pizza in a feeding frenzy, creating a cloud of swirling water sending pizza pieces and crumbs ricocheting off the aquarium walls.  

Pickle taped Gillis on the shoulder and said, “The carp look like they’re playing jai alai. What’d you do that for Gills? The pizza smelled great. I’m starving.”

“Take a look now, Dill. One bite of the pizza and you’d end up like the carp in the aquarium. They put arsenic in the sauce. Sure, it will enhance the flavor, but the after effects are terrible. Take a look,” Gillis pointed to eight huge orange and white Asian carp floating sideways on the surface of the aquarium.

“Do Re tried to kill us, Gills. What’d we ever do to him? I was going to ask him if he had a sister I could date,” said Pickle.

“Do Re, Leon, and Buttercup are all guilty. It wasn’t Do Re who waited on us. I pretended he was Do Re and went along with the ruse,” said Gillis.

“I’m totally confused. You just said Do Re was our waiter, Buttercup’s behind the buffet, and Leon’s running the craps game.”

“That’s what I said. I said it loud enough so Leon could hear me,” said Gillis.

“Who’s behind the buffet?”

“Leon.”

“I thought Leon was running the craps game.”

“That’s Do Re.”

“But, Do Re waited on us?

“That was Leon, the first time. But Do Re brought the pizzas to our table.

“Who killed the monkeys?” begged Pickle. “Do you mind if I get some barbecue off the buffet? The smell is driving me crazy.”

“Be my guest. I’ll warn you, you’ll be eating monkey entrails.”

“Let me put this another way to you, Gills. Are you saying I will be eating Tells’ guts?” 

“The good news is that they’re grilled and covered with barbecue sauce.”

“What’s the bad news?”

“There isn’t any. Anything smothered in barbecue sauce tastes great. Ignore the barbecue. It’s go time.”

“It is?”

 “Do Re, Buttercup, and Leon all went into the kitchen,” said Gillis.

“I like teamwork, Gills. They’re all helping Leon on the buffet,” said Pickle.

“Leon’s not working the buffet. I only said that because the senior with the beehive hairdo behind us turned up her hearing aid so she could hear every word I’m saying,” said Gillis.

“Slow down, Gills. Who was behind the buffet? Was it Leon, Do Re, or Buttercup?” asked a confused Pickle.

“None of the above,” said Gillis.

“None of the above? I don’t get it,” said Pickle wiping the beads of sweat off his brow.

“The final piece to the puzzle fell into place, Dill. Play along with me for a moment and you’ll understand.”

“I’m game,” said Pickle.

 

TOMORROW: THE CONCLUSION TO BUMBLING DETECTIVES – DON’T MISS IT.

25 ~Pickle Discovers a Clue to the Case in the Men’s Restroom

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Gillis played with sugar packets arranging and rearranging them. Pickle test tasted packets of soy sauce, duck sauce, barbecue sauce, and spicy mustard. Pickle was on his third round of packets and began slurping the entire packet. Gillis said, “You’re hungry.”

“I didn’t say anything, Gills. How’d you know?”

“Wild guess. Let’s nose around, Dill. We’ll walk up to the buffet bar. Remember what Do Re said about the food. Look but don’t touch. You remember what we’re looking for?”

Pickle’s eyes sparkled. He was back in third grade and he knew the answer, “I sure do, Gills. I looking for senior trying to sneak extra food off the buffet to take home.”

Gillis, always sensitive to Pickle’s desire to be right, said, “Right on target, Dill. While you’re at it, if you notice anyone with only one cufflink, let me know. Take your time at the buffet bar. We’ll talk after Do Re brings us our pizzas.”

Pickle puffed up more brightly than a peacock. “I’m on it. Do you mind if I go to the restroom first?”

Gillis shrugged, “I’ll wait.” He continued rearranging sugar and sugar substitute packets.

Five minutes later Pickle returned. He slid into his chair. He bent toward Gillis and whispered, “I found some unexpected information that may help us with this case.”

Gillis nodded and signaled Pickle to continue.

Pickle reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. He read it, “Call Sara at 555-6767 if you want a good time.”

“How’s this going to help us?” asked Gillis.

“Sara might have seen something. Do you mind if I call her and question her alone tonight?”

“Go for it. Let me know if you had a good time. Let’s head to the buffet bar,” said Gillis.

Gillis and Pickle stood in the buffet line behind fifteen seniors. Eight of the seniors were  pushing walkers. Each of the eight walkers had a built in tray device. The seniors with walkers placed two large plates on their tray device. The remaining seven seniors had baby pouches strapped to their chests and carried a single plate. 

“Question, Gills.”

“What is it, Dill?”

“Are the seniors afraid the Golden Wok is going to run out of food? Why are they stuffing food into the baby pouches? Why do they need two plates? Watch out, one of the seniors is trying to pull his walker out of line and take a cut near the front of the line. Another senior with a walker is swearing at him. They’re swinging their walkers at each other. Should we step in?”

“Ignore it, Dill. When seniors fight over food, the early bird special, coupons, you need backup. We’re not wearing our Kevlar vests. If they take hostages, we’ll call in the SWAT team. You see that? Beautiful move, He faked swinging his walker, and squirted the guy in face with his urine sack.”

The guy who got squirted, “I’m going to sue. I just had my cataracts removed.”

The guy who did the squirting, “You sue and I’ll ban you from playing bingo.”

“Truce.”

“Truce.”

Gillis said, “I saw something on Unsolved Mysterious on cable about seniors at buffets, Dill. The world’s greatest scientists can’t figure it out. The scientists point out for every ten seniors who head to buffets only seven survive.”

“They got a seven in ten chance, Gills. Those are good odds given the price. Five ninety-nine for all you can eat. I heard a senior say he eats enough so he doesn’t have to eat for two days.”

Twenty minutes later Gillis and Pickle made it through the buffet and back to their table. Two pizzas boxes were on the table. “See anything unusual, Dill?”

 I saw a senior stuffing her handbag with chicken wings. Then she started packing food in her cheeks like a squirrel as she went through the buffet.”

“That’s normal according to the scientists. Once you pass a certain age, all you think about is food, how to interfere in your kids lives, and what the neighbors are doing. I meant about our case,” said Gillis.

“Can’t say I did. How about you?” asked Pickle picking out a slice of greasy pepperoni pizza.

“Don’t eat the pizza,” said Gillis.

“Why?” asked Pickle holding a grease laden piece of pepperoni pizza inches from his mouth.

“I’ll tell you in a minute. Put the pizza down carefully and wipe your hands on your shirt. I think I solved the case,” said Gillis watching the grease drip off of Pickle’s slice and slide down his chin and dripping onto his shirt.

“Something bothering you, Gills? What are you thinking about? You buried your face in your hands. What am I missing Gills? Who’s the killer? What tipped you off?”

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