Memoirous

What We Need is Here Geese appear high over us, pass, and the sky closes. Abandon, as in love or sleep, holds them in their way, clear in the ancient faith: what we need is here. And we pray, not for a new earth or heaven, but to be quiet in heart, and in eye, clear. What we need is here. --Wendell Berry This amazing little poem, bit of wisdom was left on my pillow at the Cenacle, a retreat center here in Chicago on Fullerton Ave. right next to the zoo. The retreat was anything but zooey. It was the first weekend of 2011 and I used it to get started on a novel that I'm currently finishing up revising. I also wrote a short story that I've revised a couple of times this year and finally submitted--hopefully to win a prize. If in the area why not sign up for the SCBWI New Year's Retreat--and get your 2012 off write, right? Contact me if you need further info.

Merry Christmas! Here is a Christmas Day excerpt from Beyond Paradise my book ready now for a download. Louise and her mother and several members of the mission are in an internment camp in the Philippines. Christmas Day arrived—my second in the Philippines, my first in captivity. It came without store-bought presents, without Papa, Julie, or mother. Mother mostly lay in bed except for when I took her by the hand and led her to the shower, the toilet, or to meals. She had hardly spoken a word since her outburst about the wedding album. As I looked into her vacant face, I often wondered what she thought about. Was she thinking of Papa? Without Papa she was missing her other half, the part of her that said she fixed good meals, thanked her for being a good wife, held her hand, and smoothed her hair at the dinner table. It was hard watching her crumble a little bit more each day. *** I thought long and hard about what to give Mother. She didn’t need a new cup or bowl. I knew what sh

Vaclav Havel, former president of the Czech Republic, was laid to rest yesterday. Often we don't find these words used in tandem: president and playwright. Throughout time artists have been rebels, the outliers, stunning the populace with their "weird" ideas that, eventually, get integrated into the mainstream--as even more "weird" ideas are getting introduced. This is the cycle of which the artist is essential. As a rebel and a dissident, Vaclav Havel changed his country, changed the world--by the jangling of keys, with thousands of BIC lighters held high in the square. By promoting art and peace, lightness and brightness through performance, he took his plays to a wider stage. Can you and I start a revolution today? The wall of commerce/commercialism/the general appetite for MORE OF THE SAME is a wall, a fence that can either keep us in or we can decide to break through. I grew up in a home that didn't especially value books or story--when all I ev

When I was going through my dad's stuff found an old birthday card to him from his "Granny" she was a wise woman from the hills of Kentucky; she possessed a simple and profound faith and thought I would share it. A happy birthday wish for you from Granny Feeback Dear Grandson I have been trying to write you for some time but found out I do not have your address, but got it in time for your birthday. I hope. It seems a long time since I seen you, but it has only been a year. Still a year seems a long time to not see the ones you want to see so bad. But I hope you are all well. I am very well. Of course I don’t feel like I did when I was young, but I am the same old Granny. I miss Granddaddy as much as ever and I guess I always will. I have a very good place to live now and a good Christian woman to live with I like fine here and I hope won’t be moving anyways soon. I like Mrs. Stephenson very much, and she seems to like me. We attend church together and both belong to

This is my mom and dad--when they were just dating, way back in college. Dad died last Sunday. He was 86. Harold Caywood Feeback was born in Kentucky in Horse Country. For vacations we used to go back there and visit. I remember going to the Man O' War monument. If you don't know who Man O' War was--well look it up--the greatest horse that ever lived. Dad's kin were old time folks. Go-down-to-the-river Methodists. He called his granny Granny. Dad used to laugh and say he never knew that a Depression was going on because everyone he knew was poor anyway. Before his senior year in high school his dad got a job with Coca-Cola bottlers in Cincinnati. Harold graduated from Withrow High School in 1943 and immediately joined the Navy and served on the USS Porter . He did his training at Great Lakes Naval Base just north of Chicago. Harold attended Ohio State University on the GI Bill getting a degree in Business with a specialization in International Finance. He was big

Flash Mob from Uptown Christian School (pretty cute)

start a diet after the holidays until I had to spoon-feed my father a mashed banana. And then, after he died, I decided all I wanted was to eat candy and enjoy the season (as best I can). Harold Caywood Feeback

  This is from NPR http://www.npr.org/blogs/thetwo-way/2011/12/13/143632180/report-homelessness-among-children-up-38-percent-since-2007 More than 1.6 million American children were homeless at some point in 2010, the nonprofit National Center on Family Homelessness reports today , adding that the number is about a 38 percent increase from 2007. The figure, which includes children under the age of 18 who are living with one or more parents or caregivers on the streets, in shared housing because of "economic hardship" and in "emergency or transitional shelters," underscores how the recession that began in late 2007 "has been a man-made disaster for vulnerable children," Ellen L. Bassuk, founder of the national center, says in a statement . She adds that: "There are more homeless children today than after the natural disasters of Hurricanes Katrina and Rita, which caused historic levels of homelessness in 2006. T

Tonight my husband and I attended a Christmas Gala at CCO (Cornerstone Community Outreach Shelter). Getting there was the hard part. Both ends of the street are sealed off because of police activity--nothing to do with our shelter. It was an out-of-town fugitive dropping in and holding someone hostage above Gigio Pizza. Helicopters and SWAT team called in. Let it snow, let is snow, let it snow. 'Cause the fluffy stuff is better than shell casings. http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/local/breaking/chi-police-activity-in-uptown-shuts-down-parts-of-red-purple-lines-20111205,0,861663.story

What's the use of having a blog if you can't share these types of things. Check out this link to my "Elf" video. http://elfyourself.jibjab.com/view/dMjLECK0uHehOUza?cmpid=ey_url

A YA historical novel written to ask ourselves: What makes you happy? Is it place, family, or something deeper, inside of you. Beyond the externals--despite time limitations, the lack of money, privacy, the ability to travel or do whatever you want. I know this is a hectic time of year, but please check out Beyond Paradise. Here is a small clip that appeared on the back cover of the hardback edition. “I used to listen to this shell before going to bed at night in the internment camps. It reminded me that out there, beyond the fences, the guards, the machine guns, was freedom. I couldn’t get enough of hearing the waves wash the beach. I loved the sound of unbroken movement.” And, if you could, please. Go to: the Amazon Kindle page and "agree" with the tags. What I mean is: scroll to the bottom to Tags Customers Associate with This Product agree with these tags Heard this type of action HELPS my book. Of course this is all voodoo.   ALSO if you know anyone inte