My book shelves are not categorized in library order but in storytelling order. Not all can be in the right category for they can serve more than one. The hall shelf is fairy tales. The big shelf in the family room, all six feet plus is Civil War but on that shelf alone I could pull out a great horse story or one of a child, maybe a music or medicine story. The living room hosts Colonial America shelf and across from that the shelves filled with Native American. The pictures on my walls are not categorized but many have stories of value and when will I get to read enough to full fill these stories needs and when and where will I tell them?
Sometimes I pull the car over because the story at the side of the road beckons, I haven’t worked on this one at all but soaked up the scenery and saved some great photos from the day in Norwich, CT. when a long known of story made me climb Meetinghouse Hill.
Now I’m dedicating time to a story that I’ve been after for several years. No really this one has been with me since childhood. I was first hooked by a stone monument on the beach at Spencer’s Island, Nova Scotia, Canada. The monument says something to the effect; in memory of the Captain and Crew of the Ship Mary Celeste built there on the beach and found adrift, not a soul on board 1872. It is a classic ghost ship story one retold a million times already….but not my version, not from my perspective. It is coming and requires a trip back to that shore to those rocky beaches this summer.
