WHAT A GREAT REWARD … TO BE READ…TO BE ENJOYED…TO BE VALUED

HI…TO THOSE WHO HAVE BEEN READING MY EPISODES….NOW AT 239
Dan and Thom and Marjorie (of course) and Rosalind and Pat and John and Owen and Dirk and Rooter…so many others … have sent me notes saying they were sad to see the Yukon Diary is coming to a close. What a nice thing to say. Sometimes I worry that my writing is a little too earthy for sensitive ears. Writers should write about what they know and that is what I have tried to do. There are still 6 or 7 more Yukon Episodes so the Yukon will continue. And then afterwards…perhaps Slovakia in the year when the Soviet Union collapsed or South Korea whose people may have hopped from island to island to North America by boat while others crossed the Bering land bridge thousands of years ago…or my First Class journey with big Red Stevenson…no end to the stories.
My diary is so explicit that at times I feel my comments go too far. Your support is very important to me. Several of you think I am writing a book. I am not. Books are not read often. And the work writing a book often kills the spark…dampens the fire…puts out the fire. Writing Episodes is better for I actually know my readers. And, yes, I know those of you who do not read the Episodes…I do know but send them anyway.
Years ago I was co author of a particular Canadian history book. My assignment was Quebec in the 1950’s. I was in Chibougamau on my first survey job when I was in Grade eleven. I saw hatred that summer… in the form of a butcher knife vibrating in front of me at it was slammed into a table….I saw a young girl my age about to launch into a career of prostitution…I saw what made the Quiet Revolution. I wrote about that summer. Guess what happened? Right! The real gutsy stuff that had meaning was edited out… scraps on the cutting room floor. When asked to write part of the second edition, I refused. They did not want me anyway.
I much prefer to write to you.
Many of you are still stuck in those goddamn isolated homes, rooms, condominiums…I hope my stories allow your minds to fly elsewhere … to be with me on different facets of life’s journey.
Thanks for hanging around. You do not really have much choice. The Pandemic has got you…like a twist in your underwear.
alan
P.S. Sometimes just a couple of words can trigger a verbal avalanche…mammoth tooth, pebbly conglomerate, Daisy the Labrador, Grandma’s triumph over Parkinson’s, fanning mill, butterfly, snapping turtle, childbirth, Sikorsky S52 helicopter, Bunmahon copper caves, North Bay romance, Halifax Blonde Bomber, Arnold Red Skeoch…no end to these word triggers. Events that harbour both humour and tragedy. That is not just true of me…it is true of each of you.

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