NEW PARIS BOOK IN PROGRESS IN 2024: THE LOVER OR THE CLICHÉ – Blog 26My next book is in progress ...This is Paris. There must be a lover in my new Paris book. Why? Because this is Paris. Oh, the cliché! Oh, the dilemma! ‘Cliché’ means that a phrase or idea or opinion – or even a character – is over-used. We’ve heard it all before, Martina. It lacks original thought. But, what would a Paris book be if it doesn’t have a lover? Boring? Cliché! Isn’t that a French word? A dated French word – as opposed to a dating French word. It was originally the sound of a printing press that duplicated the same page over and over and over. Some clichés live on and on and on – changing with the times and the modern copy machines, I guess. I’ve read plenty of books set in Paris that have plenty of lovers. They repeat the cliché, don’t they? Or do I mean ‘loves’ rather than lovers? A book about the love of French food, or French wine, or the love of a French café or French castle. Does the love have to be some being, such as a person or a thing? Can’t it be the love of doing something, such as the love of walking along the Champs-Élysées? Why was the American chef Julia Child’s book My Life in France so successful? The memoir is about her love for her husband Paul and her love, of course, of French food, French cooking, French markets, and French living. More so, readers love Julia Child for being herself – she was so exuberant and lively and passionate and funny. She was the person who was the ultimate ‘character’ in real life – a fearless chef who was not afraid to cook outside her comfort zone, to cook above her pay grade. She’s not cliché – she’s souffle, she’s sorbet, she’s buffet, she’s mornay. She’s outrageously franglais! Just tell me, Martina, does this book have a lover? Well, of course, it does. One or two, or a few. Three or four, or more. Less than ten, and not all men. Or maybe twenty, that’s plenty! Cliché, passé, midday, soirée, dolce, padre, overt, covert, real, unreal, surreal, bidden, hidden – maybe I’m kidding! Seriously, this is Paris. Have you missed the other 24 episodes? Find them in the “PARIS as I write” tab of this “The Stories in You and Me” Substack. MY PARIS WEBSITE AND ALL THINGS PARISIAN Photographer: Martina Nicolls PIP DECKS, the fun and engaging how-to guides for business. You're currently a free subscriber to The Stories in You and Me . For the full experience, upgrade your subscription. |
Sunday, 20 October 2024
NEW PARIS BOOK IN PROGRESS IN 2024: THE LOVER OR THE CLICHÉ – Blog 26
Saturday, 19 October 2024
Poem of a wooden chest and a sepia portrait
Poem of a wooden chest and a sepia portraitA new poem from Tamar Zhghenti for my website Rainy Day Healing ...
Georgian poet Tamar Zhghenti is Poet in Residence on my “Rainy Day Healing” website. She shares with us her recent poem Inside the chest, written in October 2024. When I read the title of Tamar’s new poem, my first thought was of a heart – maybe beating, maybe beaten, maybe broken, maybe bleeding. It evoked memories before had even read the first line. Read it as you wish … - Martina, October 2024 INSIDE THE CHEST Fishtail braids and a lace collar, gazing sidelong — Can't recognize you, Mom! Funny this picture should be at Dad’s, and inside this wooden chest as well, right alongside his for-funeral photo. Pencil moustache, military cut and all, yet he feels familiar unlike you, even though I first saw Dad already bearded and old. How snug, how odd! — Like a brown pansy beneath a snowy oak, Your petite sepia portrait rests below his grand monochrome. "Your dad is dead. To us both. No matter when he goes to the grave, son." That's all you ever gave me, Mom. No facts, no clues. And now, look at you! Locked side by side In the earthy scent of aged cellulose. Who arranged it this way, Mom? Not his missus, for sure. It’s your doing, Dad, I know. "Didn't trouble you in life, and I won't in death, This chest holds all I'll need when I pass." — And here they are, your final needs, neatly grouped: A flannel suit. Veteran medals. Brogue shoes. The exclusive right of burial. A roll of banknotes. Even the guest list for the funeral, and the portrait, of course. But what the hell is she doing here, Dad? "When you leave, you leave for good," — is what you said. So, why this sudden change of heart? Or were you keeping her inside all these years? And how am I to bury all this now? Can't be. Not Mom. Doesn't look like. No. INSIDE THE CHEST: OCTOBER 2024 in Rainy Day Healing website Tamar Zhghenti: Facebook Martina Nicolls RAINY DAY HEALING: Rainy Day Healing Rainy Day Healing POET IN RESIDENCE: POET IN RESIDENCE Rainy Day Healing POP UP POETRY: POP UP POETRY You're currently a free subscriber to The Stories in You and Me . For the full experience, upgrade your subscription.
© 2024 MARTINA NICOLLS |
MAKING MY PEACE … with connecting the dots and reaching for the stars
Thoughtful connections in life ... ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ...
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thealchemistspottery posted: " "I shall pass through this world but once.If therefore, there be any kindness I can sho...