The Wood Elf

The Wood Elf
Indianapolis, Indiana, USA
November 17
On my day job, which lasts well into the evening, I teach French to middle schoolers who are wonderfully voracious readers in a well-educated community on the fringe of Indianapolis. I also coach the speech team that as an experienced former high school coach and parent, I felt compelled to start last year. The rest of my life is tied to my parents for whom I moved here a year ago from the rural village where I raised my children. We enjoy the symphony and opera and camera club and church activities. And Scrabble and the Red Sox, which are the focus of my mother's delights. I read to escape the lists of anxiety elevating demands, a wide variety of genres, but I love stories with people who become my friends and in whose lives I become invested. My delight is in my children, the definition of which I stretch to fit all the borrowed ones in my collection, carefully chosen to take me all over the world in visits. The newest additions to the collection are a granddaughter, a grandniece, and 2 grandnephews, who augment the joys of the sons, daughters, nieces and nephews. I collect multi-generational and international friends. My wandering in real life as opposed to book life include splendid tours of New Zealand with my eldest reader, Korea with my Dad, Hong Kong for the wedding of the borrowed Chinese son, and Europe for summers of study that include visits to the French sister in Sevilla and German son in Heidelberg. I am looking under sofas and car seats for the discipline to write stories of my own which have a rich life inside my head but rarely find their way into print. And I am seeking friends in this new city that share my love of the global community and its possibilities. My library? Extensive. I treasure books with character, so bound rather than paper, and inscribed from the giver. I read to escape, a wide variety of genres. I have an entire bookcase dedicated to Arturian research and literature, the real 5th century sort rather than the later legends. The historical fiction and documentation of the second world war fill another bookcase. I must confess I also have a Tolkien bookcase, with his works in Korean, Russian, German, French, as well as the myriads of publications since Pete Jackson's films. And I have a Nancy Drew bookcase. I devour books with a blindness to the world around me that really should require therapy. I am thankful to have a sister and children who read, who read aloud, and who write with articulate clarity.


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