I Am From Inspiration Poem

by Josias Alzamora Huff

I am from the outdoors. Where the willows weep and the trails wind.

I am from the industrial playground and the concrete pickleball court. The sun beats down on sunburned skin.

I am from potted plants and shelves of books. Overflowing everywhere they inhabit.

I am from Panettone and Arroz con Pollo. Christmas traditions never seem to change.

I am from every breed of dog. An endless surge of them.

I am from bonfires and roof tents. I am from novels and stoves. I am from mountains and caves and forests and lakes. I am from two houses and games and audiobooks and cakes. I am from the unconditional love of family and the care of friends.  

I am from a world with everything to offer.

I am inspired 

---9th Grade "I Am From" Poetry Assignment

Photo credit: Josias Alzamora Huff

Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry Continuation

Introducing the next generation of Huff: Shiloh Alzamora Huff 

In my sixth grade English Language Arts class we read Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry by Mildred D. Taylor and we were asked to make a continuation (my idea of how the story would continue or end). Here it is:

"CASSIE!" Mama called from home, "It's almost dark and it's time to come home." 

Rats! School starts tomorrow. I thought I could enjoy a little more freedom, but I know tomorrow will be the same old routine: we wake up, walk to school, and see Jeremy. 

"Cassie!" I heard Jeremy's voice. 

"Jeremy?" 

"Hi, Cassie," he said, barely managing to get the words out. 

"Jeremy, are you okay?" 

"W-we're moving across the country, apparently," Jeremy whined. "R.W. and Melvin have been trying to convince my dad to move, and they finally got him to. They told my dad something about T.J., and he seemed scared." 

At the mention of T.J., my heart swelled. T.J. has been locked up for a while now, and he will never get out.  

"Anyway, I just wanted to tell you," he whispered before turning and running away, wiping tears from his eyes. 

“Cassie!" Mama yelled impatiently.  

I ran over to Mama and her wonderful cooking. 

At the dinner table, I told Stacey, Papa, Little Man, and Christopher John what happened with Jeremey and how they are moving across the country. 

As we got ready for bed, I could not help but feel a little twinge of sadness, and all through the night I thought of the good times I had with Jeremy and T.J. 

When I woke up in the morning, Mama told me that the school water main had broken and that we had to stay home for the day. So, I raced up to Jeremy's tree to see if he was there, but when I got there, they were all gone. Now Jeremy and T.J. were gone, and I was supposed to act like life was normal. 

"Cassie!" 

"Wha—Jeremy, is that you?" 

"Oh, thank the Lord you are here!" said Jeremy. 

 "What are you doing here?" I inquired. 

"I found out what R.W. and Melvin did. I told Dad, but he did not care or already knew. They should be the ones in jail, not T.J., so I told Dad, and he left me behind. So, I'm gonna stay in my tree." 

After a few seconds of staring at him like he was mad, I finally mustered, "But what about food?" 

"Well to be honest I don't know- whoa," said Jeremy. 

I grabbed Jeremy by the arm and started running home, so Jeremy followed. When we got there Jeremy explained everything to Mama. Mama told Jeremy that he always had a home here and so, on went life. But it was a life without T.J. 

The Long Way Home by Louise Penny is a balm for the soul

Evening on the North Shore by Clarence Gagnon

The Long Way Home (A Chief Inspector Gamache Novel) by Louise Penny is the tenth installment in the series. All of them I have loved (with the possible exception of #9). None of them have I written about, until now.

The reason may have as much to do with laziness as with my feelings about the actual books, or it may be that this one finally unearthed what it is I adore about Ms. Penny's novels.

In the Long Way Home, the author employs repetition of an old spiritual to coax the reader into the book: There is a Balm in Gilead.

There is balm in Gilead,
To make the wounded whole;
There's power enough in heaven,
To cure a sin-sick soul.

At first I thought it just sounded nice. But as the characters in the book repeated it, the deeper meaning began to surface. It felt like a meditation. I noticed that I was unwittingly repeating it throughout the day, and in the quiet moments before sleep. I wasn't sure exactly what it meant, but as the author asked me to explore its meaning vis a vis the characters, and as the story moved onward, I was liking the way it made me feel.

There is a balm in Gilead.

In the book, Ms. Penny talks about how art (mostly paintings - the characters' as well as Clarence Gagnon's, figure prominently is this story - but also sculpture, poetry and song) can convey a feeling. The art itself may be considered good or bad, may be misunderstood or defy understanding, but it is felt.

It finally dawned on me, THAT is why I love the Gamache books. They are good books. I've loved the characters, and the setting of the Quebecois village of Three Pines from the beginning. However, there is also something more, something I couldn't quite put my finger on, that attracted me to the books, seduced me. It grew stronger as I read the series.

The Gamache books subtly transmit feelings. Feelings about creativity, fear, hope, trust, love and redemption. Feelings about life, and something greater than that. I'm still reaching for words to describe it. I may be for quite some time.

There is a balm in Gilead. To make the wounded whole.

While the hymn is Christian in origin, I think it can be viewed through the lens of any religion or philosophy. I viewed it in a yogic way, as a mediation. I've just finished the Long Way Home, so what the meditation means to me will continue to expand. For now, it is a balm for this soul.

There is a balm in Gilead.

Photo credit: Irina

The Cloister Walk by Kathleen Norris held me in thrall

Etna Community Church in Etna, NY 

I'm a quick reader. I can usually get through a book in a few days to a week. The Cloister Walk by Kathleen Norris took me well over a month. It wasn't because it was a long book; it was less than 400 pages. It wasn't because I didn't like it, quite the opposite. It was because I was so overwhelmed by its tendency to move me, to leave me deep in thought and to crack my soul wide open, that I could only handle it in little bits. It held me in thrall.

The Cloister walk is full of life-altering ideas. My mind swims with where and how to begin talking about it.

Kathleen Norris, a protestant, became a Benedictine Oblate and spent a year at the monastery. Her thoughts on the Bible, its use of metaphor (and Americans' insistence on ignoring the metaphor and taking it all literally), and the impact of praying and reading the Bible communally forced me to reevaluate my own beliefs. And that was just the first few chapters. The book's effect on me was so immense that in order to get something down, which I feel I must, I need to start somewhere.

So, I'll share a couple of startling revelations:

• Praying is not about asking for stuff, nor is it necessarily about showing devotion to a thing, person, deity, etc. It is about reaching a meditative state such that I can drop the anger (or fill in your go-to negative emotion here), so I can better serve myself and the universe. I can begin to clear the path that walks me toward my calling, not to fill up my own cup, but to spread peace, joy and love.
• And, then, on a seemingly unrelated note: Poets may not know what they write. Yeah, go ahead, read that last sentence again. Whaaat? Hold the phone! This not only gives me permission to not understand poetry (I often don't), I would  say it necessarily follows that I don't get it. Furthermore, she says, that poetry is necessary and must be written and read. Whether we understand it or not, the poet and the reader often "know," on some level, its meaning.

While the second bullet may appear a bit out of sync with the rest of the book, Kathleen Norris is a poet by profession. She talks of the Psalms being poetry and having the same effect on the reader/listener/singer/writer.

She frequently quotes Emily Dickinson. My favorite was, "Consider the lilies is the only commandment I ever obeyed." As Ms. Dickinson was surely a pious soul, this is meant to tell us that even those that appear to be without sin are not. They are also not without humor.

Another quote really got me thinking. In the Gospel of Luke, Jesus says, "The coming of the kingdom of God cannot be observed, and no one will announce, 'Look, here it is!' or, 'There it is!' For behold, the kingdom of God is within you" (Luke 17:20-21). Akin to what I realized about praying, she drove home the point that knowing God is not about what church we go to (or don't go to), nor how little we sin. Knowing God is about becoming the person we were all created to be - a being full of love for oneself and others. Or, at least striving to become that person.

I don't know about you, but this stuff makes me tired. In a good way. A contented and peaceful way.

Photo credit: pastorbradetna

Life after the Lacuna by Barbara Kingsolver

The Lacuna by Barbara Kingsolver is more than a vocabulary lesson (I'm not going to tell you, if you wanna know, you'll have to look it up). It is a work of historical fiction in which I learned more about ancient Mexican civilizations, the Bolshevik Revolution in Russia and the McCarthy era in the United States than I did in thirteen years of compulsory public eduction. I'm not knockin' school. I'm just sayin', either they didn't teach it or I wasn't paying attention.

Ms. Kingsolver got my attention and held it for near on seven hundred pages. As I began to read the Lacuna, I fell deeper under its spell with every page. Let me stop, though, because this isn't a review of the Lacuna. It is my (hopefully coherent) ramblings about how I decide which books to read and whether I end up liking them or not.

The tale begins when our protagonist is a boy, and we soon learn that it will end when he is much, much older. That kind of tale usually gets me right away. I love the epic. By the time we arrive at the house of Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo about a quarter of the way through, I was so entranced that I started to ponder: Barbara Kingsolver is one of my favorite authors, the Lacuna is the type of novel that has me ga-ga from the get-go, so if this book was released four years ago, why am I just reading it now? And really, I'm reading it as a last resort. I picked it up at a yard sale for fifty cents on a summer holiday for lack of anything better to read.

Then it came to me. About four years ago, as I was driving home from work I heard NPR review this book. Maureen Corrigan hated it (read her review here). I remember thinking that she was being a bit harsh and that she couldn't be talking about MY Barbara Kingsolver, but her words must have put doubt in my mind. Over time, I had forgotten this review, but I had also lost all interest in reading the latest work of an author I greatly esteem.

(By the way, I have since read a book of Maureen Corrigan's about how much she loves books. I loved it!  So, no hard feelings, eh, Mo?)

The reviews for the Lacuna weren't all bad.  Many "important" people liked it and it took first place at a few book contests. For me, it was one of those books by which I mark time - my life before I read the Lacuna and life afterward.

I'm sure there is no need to state the obvious for all you literary types and English majors (you can skip the rest of the paragraph). For all others, I'll state it plainly. How I feel about a book is very personal, and should not be based upon the opinion of others, no matter how fashionable or in the know said others might seem.

Thanks to Ms. Kingsolver, Ms. Corrigan and yard sales for driving that lesson home. Life after the Lacuna is good!

Do you base book choices on reviews or the opinions of others?

Photos credits: Urban Combing, Jose Antonio Gelado

Huff's summer reading

Now that I am home, full-time, with an infant and a three year old, I have precious little time to read. We are on holiday for the summer - and so is my reading. Hence, my lack of posts on Huff Reads Stuff. I still think about books, like, all the time, though. So, I thought I'd talk about some of my favorites and readers can take them or leave them as suggestions for something to read this summer.

Compiling this list felt monumental. For me, reading is an experience that I find difficult to describe (and yet I created a blog about it?). Each book I read changes me, or maybe helps me become who I am. I experience the place, time and characters in the book as if I am there. At times it is so intense, that it's a bit scary. I often go back over and over again, to visit what I felt as I read a book, both in dreams and in dreamier waking moments.

So, this is not simply a list to me, it is a reckoning; a walk through my past.

With that, I present to you Huff''s 19 favorite authors (I'm sure after I post this, I'll think of several more, so I reserve the write to edit):

They are in no particular order. For me, trying to put books in order of favorites would be like listing which child I like best - totally not cool. I also had a little trouble narrowing it down to specific books, so instead of dithering, I decided to just get something down and start with authors.

1. Walter Mosley - Series: The Easy Rawlins Mystery series - Black Betty is a good place to start; the Socrates Fortlow series - Always Outnumbered, Always Outgunned is my favorite; the Fearless Jones series; and the Leonid McGill series. Non-series: The Man in my Basement; Fortunate Son; and The Last Days of Ptolemy Gray. Do not, I repeat, do not, read his Science Fiction, nor his Erotica.
2. Margaret Atwood - Top 3: The Blind Assassin; The Handmaid's Tale; and Alias Grace. Add Moral Disorder and call it an even 4.
3. Louise Penny - start with the first in the Chief Inspector Gamache series, Still Life.
4. Jacqueline Winspear - Maisie Dobbs novels. Maisie is my soul mate.
5. Janet Evanovich - a bit lowbrow? I love all kinds of books and Stephanie Plum is crazy funny.
6. Jon Katz - all the dog books and the Suburban Detective series.
7. Sarah Dunant - several historical fiction novels (love, love, love); the Hannah Wolfe detective series; and Mapping the Edge.
8. Charlotte Bronte - Jane Eyre, hello!
9. Carlos Ruiz Zafon - Shadow of the Wind is his best, but they all put me smack dab in the middle of Barcelona pre-World War II. I walked the streets with Daniel. These books helped me appreciate that plot isn't everything. I enjoyed being inside it, regardless of what was happening.
10. Marion Keyes - Chic lit? Why, yes, yes I do. It's Ireland for Pete's sake.
11. Alexander McCall Smith - No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency series; Isabel Dalhousie series; and Corduroy Mansions series.  I don't care for the 44 Scotland Street series, and I'm lukewarm about the Portuguese Irregular Verbs series.
12. Philippa Gregory - The Other Boleyn Sister has the most common appeal. I love the others too, but they may be a bit Anglophile for some. I have an unnatural obsession with the courts of Henry VIII, most likely due to past life stuff.
13. Marge Piercy - In college, the budding feminist in me could not get enough of her. I've read many of her books, my favorites are Gone to Soldiers and Sex Wars.
14. Alice Walker - The Color Purple; Possessing the Secret of Joy; Meridian; and The Temple of my Familiar.
15. Toni Morrison - I read all of her books, up until Paradise, at which time I had to stop. Her books haunt me.
16. Gloria Naylor - Mama Day and Bailey's Café are my favorites.
17. Barbara Kingsolver - The Poisonwood Bible; Prodigal Summer; and of course, Animal Vegetable, Miracle.  High Tide in Tucson is a good one, too.
18. John Mortimer - The Rumpole series; Felix in the Underworld; and Quite Honestly, because it is the only book I've ever read that starts with the letter "Q."
19. Edith Wharton - House of Mirth started it off for me and Mrs. Wharton. I also love The Custom of the Country and The Age of Innocence.  Edith Wharton herself is as fascinating a character as any in her novels.

I would love to hear about your favorite authors, so please comment away!

Photo credit: QuotesEverlasting

The Parishioner by Walter Mosley is not Easy

From what I've seen in the blogosphere, readers generally love Walter Mosley's latest, The Parishioner, which is offered to us as an e-book. Dear Reader, I do not feel the love. The best thing I can say about The Parishioner is that it's not terrible.

I like the concept. A no-name church in a no-name place with an unordained minister. The congregation contains sinners of the worst kind who have left their lives of heinous deeds behind and are trying to walk the path of righteousness.

Our guy, the Parishioner, has done some terrible things. Murder not even being the chief among them. His real crime is not caring about the lives he's destroyed. But once the pastor of the church with no name recruits him, he is a disciple. It's almost as if he is in a trance.  He leaves the life behind, becomes a newspaper delivery man and does everything the minister tells him in order to be delivered from his sins.

The story revolves around a mission the pastor gives the Parishioner. Help a fellow sinner atone for her sins by finding the now-grown boys she kidnapped and sold for adoption twenty three years ago. The Parishioner knows this mission is going to put him smack dab in the middle of the places and people that will temp him back into his evil ways. No matter, he's up for it.

There are several twists and turns. Everyone and their mother ends up being involved in the convoluted mystery of what happened to these boys. The Parishioner even dabbles in romance. 

There are some attractive themes here: can people change; is redemption possible; what exactly is religion, or faith for that matter?

My problem with all this? This character feels like Mosley put Easy Rawlins, Socrates Fortlow and Leonid McGill in the blender and poured out a smoothie called The Parishioner. I was somewhat entertained and mildly interested in the outcome, but in the end, I was seriously underwhelmed, and just kept thinking that the people, plot and scenery felt a little recycled. I expect more from Walter Mosley. I expect something or someone as good as Easy Rawlins.

There was one part of the book that I LOVED. The last few pages contained an excerpt from the new Easy Rawlins mystery due out in 2013. That's right, Easy lives!

Are there books you have read by beloved authors that have let you down?

Photo credit: BugMan50