A Certain Slant of Light

Emily Dickinson says in her poem: There’s a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons – That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes – Although I admire Dickinson’s work, I react to slants of light in the opposite way. In the gray stand of hardwoods behind my house, on certain days of the winter, one ray of sun will pierce the overlapping branches and strike against the trunk of a far tree. It is lit then as if it were the sacred stone struck by sunlight on the solstice, and my heart is lit, too, with the vibrancy of interaction,…

Tiny Tim, Small Hero of the Comics

I didn’t know Tiny Tim through the comics by Stanley Link, but from a book my Uncle Bert had, called Tiny Tim and the Mechanical Men. The mechanical men were robots, not the one you see on the book cover above (that was just the entrance into the robots’ abode), but some guys I could have built out of a Crisco can and a few flattened out sheets of tin. Nonetheless, I loved them because Tiny Tim found one that was on the blink, crawled into its head, and started operating it. I was right there with him pulling levers.…

Working Fine

When I was taking jewelry classes while living in Palo Alto, California, my teacher, seeing a tasseled earring I was adding tiny beads to, commented that I liked to work “fine.” In thinking about this years later, she is correct. I like small heroes and am writing a book about a small set of pigeon-like aliens who invade Earth with the help of an almost-12-year-old boy named Cort Evans. One of Cort’s passions, graphic novels about Nick Nano, a small, small hero, is inspired by my Uncle Bert’s copy of Tiny Tim and the Mechanical Men. I loved reading about…