|
Image attribution: Left, cover art, Anna Burdette; right, unknown. |
Stilled lives, stilled life, still life . . . life stilled?
What do you do when your world comes to screeching, grinding halt, and yet it still expects you to keep moving?
I've been there. It's a singularity of sorts, one in which you feel yourself being sucked into a black hole while the weight of the universe camps out on your chest. It's a succubus, draining your own life force to animate its own void. In my language, we have a different word for that succubus, but its insatiable greed is the same.
A friend of mine (and of some of you who are reading this right now) has that weight camped out on her chest right now. It's an invasive, colonizing thing, one you never invite but it crashes through the door anyway and makes itself at home, taking the fat, using up all your resources, then badgering you for more even as it demands to know why you don't have anything left.
Here's the thing: We can help her get rid of it. We can help her keep moving forward and free, in spite and defiance of that colonizing succubus. On this last day of spring, we can provide a little seed money to keep her life growing and going strong.
First, though, I want to introduce you to my friend, want you to get to know her as I do. Then I want you to join us in giving her a hand.
For those of you who frequent the Great Orange Satan, you already know her as gchaucer2. She diaries only occasionally, but when she does, it's usually brilliant. She's a prolific commenter and builder of community, but she's also a woman after my own heart: smart and shrewd and incredibly salty, one who neither suffers fools nor misses an opportunity to skewer bigotries petty and grand alike. Her love of grand irony burns bright, and she has an acid wit as sharp as a scalpel, and as deadly, too. She's one of the few people I know whose language is as . . . umm, publicly colorful as mine — well, okay, not really, because it's hard to beat my own mouth on that score, but we're kindred spirits in our love of a good soul-cleansing epithet — and we share a certain similarity of background. I come from a thoroughly assimilated fundamentalist environment; she is the beautiful woman Wings refers to as "that hot ex-nun."
I'm going to tell you more about this woman whose spirit I love so dearly, but before we make the jump, I'm going to post two ways to help her out right here:
Donate via PayPal at stilledlives2 [at] gmail [dot] com.
Buy her book, Stilled Lives: The T-Town Murders, here.
A note for those donating via PayPal: Please be sure to select the "Send money to friends or family" option, so that she does not lose a percentage of your donation to servicing fees.
Now, over the jump: