This excerpt from my PYI keynote in a series that started in December 2011 will make most sense to you if you’ve read Part 9 of “An Intimate Examination of Sock Fluff”…
Bring me back something interesting, Gran whispers as I head off to the beach.
If I could, I would bring you the plick plock pluck of pebbles at the water’s edge.
I would bring you the swish of waves sneaking up and the hiss of waves shrinking back.
If I could, I would bring you a sleek wet seal slithering into the sea.
I would bring you curving porpoise fins, too, arcing out and in, out and in, out and in.
If I could, I would bring you a gull riding the wind, hanging still on a cloud.
I would bring you the breeze on my cheeks, Gran — oh, if only I could.
If I could, I would bring you pale shafts of light poking like God through the clouds.
And from the huge grey ocean I would bring to you shiny puddles of silvery sun.
If I could, I would bring you the shape left behind by a star burrowing into the sand.
I would bring you the tickle of foam creeping up and around in between my toes.
If I could, I would bring you the salt seaweed smell of kelp in slippery heaps.
And rocks, like a naked lady asleep, I would bring you, if only I could.
If I could, I would bring you turquoise and purple from a quivery tidal pool.
I would bring all this from the beach, if I could, in my pockets and in my pack.
But here, Gran, is all I could bring, in my arms. I’ll bring more next time I go back.
Now, I’m going to tell you something about me that very few people in this room will know. The information is not found on my website, I’ve never blogged about it, and it’s not included in the author bio on any of my thirty or so books. None of my characters has, to date, shared this quirk. Which is this:
How’s that for a cliff-hanger ending to a blog post?