legacy, part 2

LEGACY, part 2
 

Just click to listen.

This is the second installment of the short story, ‘Legacy.’ For most adults, listening is a different way of experiencing stories or, and for me it a new way to deliver them—although William, at three years old, quite recommends this method.

I’ll keep adding new episodes weekly. If you sneak a listen, I’d love to hear what you think!

Note: you can listen to the other sequenced installments by selecting the ‘podcast’ category on this blog, or subscribe to the feed on I-tunes here.

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our times

Every time I turn on the radio lately, I hear worrisome news, news that makes me want to switch it off again.

How hordes are suffering among rubble, and elsewhere, others are recklessly lashing out.

I hear about the many ways our economy is flailing; how the social systems that support us are strained or bankrupt; how the natural ones stressed to an unprecedented point.

And as of this month, according to the the supreme court, corporate money equals free speech, so I expect the next election cycle to be particularly cacophonous, with no one much listening, and nothing much getting done.

Then randomly I came across an image of one of those body scans—the kind they now take of you at airport security, after you’ve put your shoes and your plastic bag of toiletries in those dull gray bins. I’d never seen an image from the scans before. It was a woman, gray and translucent. And she looked so naked there, so alone, so exposed with her hands thrown up in quiet surrender.

And I thought, This an image of our times.

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legacy, part 1

What would you like to be remembered for? Which things do you embellish, edit, or try to forgot altogether?

These are some of the questions I considered when writing the short story Legacy, The first story in The One You Can remember. It introduces the unifying event of the collection: the disappearance of eighth grader Sara Parson, and follows Principal Markus Jackson as he comes to term with this loss.

You can listen to the first installment of this story below, or subscribe to the feed on I-tunes here (or search for ‘Jocelyns Stories’). I’ll be adding new installments weekly and would be super grateful to any who comments or rates it on I-tunes! Let me know what you think!!!

Just click to listen.

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billy hunt photography: you’re beautiful and he loves you

Billy’s top tips on how to look great on a photo-shoot, plus William in costume, and the new jingle! Pass it on.
Video by Billy Hunt Photography and Friends.

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don’t get me vectron

This is what happen when Billy and William go to the toy store unsupervised :)
video by billy

Also, check out saucy true stories told by local folks at Secretly Y’all.

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telling your biracial boy about MLKjr day

Grandma and William, by Papa Johnson

—Tomorrow, I tell William, Is a holiday: Martin Luther King Jr day.
—Who’s he? William asks.
—A man. A great man, I say.
—But why does he have a day, Williams wants to know.

I tell our boy that Dr. King was part of a struggle for fairness. A struggle in America that has made our small, diverse family possible: Me, Billy, and William—black, white, and the best of both.

But to try to describe a recent world where such revolution was even needed, is strange and difficult, like trying to put a bad dream into words. ‘Grandma and papa’s world’ I call it, a world of protests, marches, bloodshed, and the legacy of actual human slavery colored normal life in this country. Telling that truth to a child for the first time, well it gives a parent pause. And yet this is the plain truth of history: dig deep enough and soon you unearth something unseemly or obscene.

But then, too , there is Dr. King and that speech on the mall, which I let William watch on YouTube. He leaned into my chest and listened, totally enthralled, even if he didn’t understand every word. He could see the crowds of people, hear that voice, wavering but full of righteousness. Striving for right.

Striving to make this a day where I’d even need to explain those times to my biracial boy.

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hall of fame

Photos by Papa Johnson.

Was it last year already, when Grandma Johnson was inducted into her Alma Mater’s Hall of Fame? We drove many hours south, and William was ecstatic to see everybody, especially his cousins: our flower girls all grown up and grinning around the banquet table.

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podcasting fiction

Just click to listen.

I’ve decided to share my first collection of short stories, called The One You Remember, as a podcast. Each story takes place in or around Wakefield Middle School, where an eighth grade girl, Sarah Parson, has gone missing. Different voices offer clues to what has happened to Sarah and why. I’ll post excerpts, weekly, until all twelve stories are available. Soon, with tech help from Billy, this will be available on iTunes.

I’ve just started to find some of the cool podcasts out there, like Bound off, that share literary fiction in audio form. It’s so interesting hearing the author’s (or actor’s) voice, how it wavers and settles and interacts with the written words. I have, after recording this first segment, found a new respect for folks on the radio, singers, actors, anyone who tries to share content through voice. It’s hard to do, and fun. Anyhow, I do hope you get a chance to listen!

If you prefer, you can read this first installment by clicking this link: Episode1_Sarah_Speaks

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understory

Our new years day party turned like a rain-forest: grown people towering, balancing plates like huge leaves, with little people scrambling for territory in layers underneath them.

Kids of all shapes and sizes foraged for straw berries, fresh whipped cream, and staked out prime toy real estate.

Billy made ginger ale and egg and cheese biscuits, and people brought sweet breads and bottles of champagne. It is a new year, and new decade, but when William asks what this means, my answers fall flat. It’s different on the calender, I say. A kind of counting, like the day, or the week, only bigger.

William understands our gathering, though. The candles and tinsel, and sweeping of dust under rugs. Being a good host, or trying to. Being kinder and more generous than your nature.

Like a big broad-leafed tree letting light filter down.

photos by Billy.

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sold!

Photos by Papa Johnson and Billy Hunt

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