Douglas Arvidson is a past winner of the WICE/Paris Transcontinental International Short Story competition. His short fiction has been published in Paris, Prague, and in literary magazines in the United States and he was recently invited to be a staff writer for the Prague Revue, a cutting-edge, online literary journal (http://bit.ly/1mMT6ZC). The novels in his fantasy series, The Eye of the Eye of Stallion, include The Face in Amber, The Mirrors of Castaway Time, and A Drop of Wizard's Blood. His new novel, Brothers of the Fire Star, was selected as a finalist in the ForeWord Reviews 2012 Book of the Year national awards and as a finalist in three categories in the 2013 New Mexico-Arizona Book Awards: Action Adventure Fiction, Historical Fiction, and Young Adult Fiction. It has become part of the pantheon of Pacific literature and is now included in school literature programs. Brothers of the Fire Star is an adventure story set in the Pacific during World War II and concerns two boys of different races and cultures who escape the island of Guam in a small sailboat when the Japanese army invades. They must then struggle to survive as they master the secrets of the ancient Pacific navigators. Appropriate for young adults as well as adult readers, Brothers of the Fire Star is available on Barnes & Noble, Amazon.com (http://amzn.to/1j3axVk) and Crossquarter.com. Visit the author's website: douglasarvidson.com



Wednesday, December 2, 2009

The Treacherous Weather Goddess Lets Me Down: Fumbling Through a Raw December Day

Let me introduce the Weather Goddess

It is one of the secrets of Nature in its mood of mockery that fine weather lays heavier weight on the mind and hearts of the depressed and the inwardly tormented than does a really bad day with dark rain sniveling continuously and sympathetically from a dirty sky. ~Muriel Spark, Territorial Rights, 1979

You can count on Goddesses to be flamboyant, irrepressible, chatty, given to idleness and arrogance. Just look at Paris. The weather goddess is no less undependable than our fair heiress. Yesterday's cerulean glory is gone, the blue drained from the sky, flushed away like a prom queen's innocence.


Now, in its stead, we have this, a day of mournful gray, with a dolorous rain spitting into a nagging, ragged wind. And I feel out of sorts. Notwithstanding my wife's claim that I'm a mole who prefers darkened chambers, I am a light junkie, really. The dull, steely sky steals my mojo.


What to do? Curl up in my cave and listen to New Age music on Satelite Radio. Right now the piece is by Liz Story. Title: 17 Seconds to Anywhere from a CD by the same name. It's a simple piano thing, not even as involved as Windham Hill. Is this Liz person a real artist or just another New Age, no-talent dreamer? There are a lot of those types out there.


Still, it's nice, with a glass of wine when you have absolutely nothing else to do.

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