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Writing Wendl...

I really did want to write a light-hearted tale in case this one turns out to be my last novel (assuming it yet becomes a novel), but it's headed currently toward the shadows. I thought I knew Wendl Von Trier pretty well, having trekked with him through my previous book, The Winged Child .   There, Wendl presents as an elusive solitary, moving above all worldly fray while at the same time nudging events and characters toward a satisfactory conclusion. Sharp and intimidating on the outside and tender and motherly on the inside. A friend to the world, something of a trickster, but in all things working for good outcomes.  That is how I saw Wendl VonTrier. A  púka, mischievous, but essentially harmless, even benevolent, capable of presenting in whatever form or gender the moment required. Wendl seemed the ideal candidate to carry readers off into the literary sunset in good spirits after an exhilarating romp through a fantastical fiction. But all along, it seems, there were depths to

Secrets...

At our house, we're reading Secrets of the Springs by Robin Brown and Scott Derks. Secrets... is a tasty stew of accessible science, readable history and imaginative narrative. My first glimpses of the book came as I walked a mile down the mountain on summer afternoons to sit with my friend and neighbor Scott Derks on his porch beside Joels Creek, as he read to me excerpts from what he had been writing.

I knew then it would be a different kind of history book, and sensed that Scott himself was on a journey to a different kind of writing. And that is just how it has turned out.


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