I come by it naturally

My grandpa Victor had a particular story he carried with him wherever he went after the harvest of 1952. It didn't begin in a usual way--"once upon a time" or "so there was this guy." It started every time he met someone new. Grandpa would be smiling and likely so would the other fella--Victor's grin was infectious. So the fella would stick out his hand ready to make a new friend when out of Grandpa's right pocket would come his stump.

There it would hover for a moment, close enough to the other fella's hand that if the corn picker hadn't picked more than corn the two would be firmly shaking. But the fella's hand stalls, not sure for the split second that Victor leaves him guessing what he should do or where he should look. Then a sly snicker comes from the one-handed man and he swings his bear-paw of a left hand up into the fella's right hand and the connection is almost dainty--like two lovers joining a square for a little do-si-do. That's when Victor would tell the story of that cool but sunny October day when his life changed but was spared.

Grandpa lived his entire life in Brookings County, South Dakota, and yet he never ran out of people to tell that story to. Old friends would roust up new folks to introduce to Victor, just so they could see the way he started that story...and the way he ended it.

Even in his coffin, the ball of his right wrist cradled in the giant sling of his left hand, he looked ready to tell a story, ready to sit up and proclaim how glad he was we'd all come to say goodbye and did we have time for just one more tale before they shut the lid down. ~Victoria Tirrel

Remembering the Satire

Yesterday I was looking for quotes from Cicero when I ran across a list of quotes from Douglas Adams, the English writer who came to fame with The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.

It has been over twenty years since I first read the book and to this day images from it keep making me smile. The destruction of the Earth to make way for a hyperspace bypass, the spaceship powered by an Improbability Drive, the depressed android Marvin 'with a brain the size of a planet,' as he so languidly reminds his fellow travelers: all making fun of our times, our governments, our gods and our puny concepts of existence in a universe that is 'really big.'

Another great book for satire is The Information, by Martin Amis, which puts an unsuccessful writer on book tour with a successful one. Amis's writing is darker than Adams's and perhaps more disturbing on a visceral level, but still written with dry humor.

There is a difference between writing about interesting characters who do mundane things and mundane characters who do extra-ordinary things, especially when it's much to their surprise. The great writers of satire seem to do the latter and remind us not to take ourselves or our characters too seriously.

Amy