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Genre: Fiction—Family Drama
Title: Maiden Run
Author: Joan L. Cannon
In the history of every family there are times when everything changes. The Adams family has lived and worked Maiden Run since time out of mind, but the world is changing and everyone must struggle to keep up. Spanning thirty years, but focusing particularly on the summer of 1935, Maiden Run is the chronicle of the lives, loves, and challenges of three Adams siblings.
Maiden Run is a fairly simple story that recounts some critical points in the lives of a family. There are no paradigm shifts, and very few “events” to speak of, but Cannon’s skill leads the reader to care about the characters, to the point where you may feel saddened when the story draws to a close. Cannon knows her topic, setting, and place inside and out, and expertly draws you in and shows you around. The Adams family actually acts like a family, with tensions and unspoken rules and, in spite of everything, an overall affection that runs deeper than any trouble. Unfortunately, Maiden Run is distributed by a small press, that doesn’t put a lot of emphasis on editing, and so this book has been released with a large number of technical and contextual errors. Luckily for us readers, Cannon’s talent shines through, and these flaws become little more than annoying ticks in the face of her sweeping thirty-year saga. Cannon is truly a diamond in the rough, and I hope she is discovered by larger presses, soon.
Joan L. Cannon has already been discovered by magazines like Pulpsmith, Seacoast Life, Grit, and Thema, and she currently writes for the online magazine Senior Women Web. She lives in North Carolina with her husband.
Maiden Run is a parable for our times, taking us back to another era that was under heavy economic hardship, and reminding us of the value of family and heritage. I Recommend this book to anyone looking for a good, meaty bit of fiction.
Reviewer: J. Blackmore, Allbooks Reviews. www.allbookreviews.com
Available at: Write Words, Inc. and Amazon.com
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Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Road Trip
It's often said that we must keep on learning to keep on living. What you don't hear is that some of the lessons are a long way from what you want to know, while others are unexpected revelations or happy confirmations. I've just come back from a trip to old stamping grounds with my children and grandchildren. In that first category is that I surely can't do what I used to. Keeping up with the younger generation in the family is hard enough; with the second generation down, there's no way!
Two great big graduation parties, one in lovely weather, the other in an unremitting downpour, both of necessity partly outdoors, were joyous affairs. I had to learn to drive to unfamiliar places without anyone in the shotgun seat or at the wheel for the first time in 22 years. A gracious GPS loan from a friend was twice a life- and time- saver, but I learned I'm probably getting too old for that.
Two great big graduation parties, one in lovely weather, the other in an unremitting downpour, both of necessity partly outdoors, were joyous affairs. I had to learn to drive to unfamiliar places without anyone in the shotgun seat or at the wheel for the first time in 22 years. A gracious GPS loan from a friend was twice a life- and time- saver, but I learned I'm probably getting too old for that.
Then there are the other little lessons--or maybe they aren't so little. Even when you know there will be changes in places you haven't seen for years, you're seldom ready for what those turn out to be. No matter how good you think your kids are at taking care of you, if you're lucky, you underestimate them. Don't expect not to be emotionally shaken by backward glances.
If you're thinking of subjects to write about as you decompress, you realize that ten days will provide material for essays, either serious or humorous, along with digital photos and programs -- a final bonus for the time spent in unfamiliar beds, trying to choose fast foods from backlit menus above the service counters, and hours on the highway.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Perks
Did you ever notice those unwritten rules in most households than confer special privileges on certain poeple? As I picked a chicken carcass to strip it in order to make the final casserole from it, I nibbled on those little bits that really are too small to be of much use in a dish. If you have a whole bird, the carver rarely bothers to extract the delicious little "oysters" from behind the second joint. I didn't even look over my shoulder to see if anyone might catch me at it. It's my perk as the cook.
Whoever goes out to the mailbox (we spent 45 years on a rural route with distances up to 1/4 mile to the box) gets to see who is receiving what and from whom. Often no one is much interested--unless someone is waiting for something desirable, of course--like maybe a personal letter or a reply on the last submission. Of course, most of the time, I hated those as much as bills. Too few were offers to publish. That same energetic person got to decide what was junk too. I still get a charge out of tossing the glossy newsprint flyers offering discounts on pages of stuff I know I'll never buy, or even covet.
Depending on one's place in the family, it may take an act of will to view some of these jobs as privileged. My husband, bless him, doesn't mind carving--anything. He's good with turkey, rib roasts (or he used to be when we could afford to buy them); legs of lamb (see previous parenthesis); even duck. My suspicion is that he really likes getting to choose and sharpen the particular knife (almost never the one I put out) and demonstrate his facility with it. The larger the audience, the better, but he's just as good and careful when it's only the two of us and a flank steak.
When we had a couple of saddle horses, my husband always carried the last buckets of water to the stalls at night. I know (on photographic evidence as well as his bragging) that he viewed that as his special chore because our mare used to spend ten minutes with her head over the half door and her muzzle resting on his shoulder while they whispered sweet nothings to each other every night at bed time.
It's fun to look for the perks, especially because if you don't, you may miss them. Sure, maybe it's a form of "silver lining," but we can all use a bit of that now and then.
Whoever goes out to the mailbox (we spent 45 years on a rural route with distances up to 1/4 mile to the box) gets to see who is receiving what and from whom. Often no one is much interested--unless someone is waiting for something desirable, of course--like maybe a personal letter or a reply on the last submission. Of course, most of the time, I hated those as much as bills. Too few were offers to publish. That same energetic person got to decide what was junk too. I still get a charge out of tossing the glossy newsprint flyers offering discounts on pages of stuff I know I'll never buy, or even covet.
Depending on one's place in the family, it may take an act of will to view some of these jobs as privileged. My husband, bless him, doesn't mind carving--anything. He's good with turkey, rib roasts (or he used to be when we could afford to buy them); legs of lamb (see previous parenthesis); even duck. My suspicion is that he really likes getting to choose and sharpen the particular knife (almost never the one I put out) and demonstrate his facility with it. The larger the audience, the better, but he's just as good and careful when it's only the two of us and a flank steak.
When we had a couple of saddle horses, my husband always carried the last buckets of water to the stalls at night. I know (on photographic evidence as well as his bragging) that he viewed that as his special chore because our mare used to spend ten minutes with her head over the half door and her muzzle resting on his shoulder while they whispered sweet nothings to each other every night at bed time.
It's fun to look for the perks, especially because if you don't, you may miss them. Sure, maybe it's a form of "silver lining," but we can all use a bit of that now and then.
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