A symphony of familiar sounds played around me. I had always loved the sounds of the ferryboats: metal cranking and men shouting to each other as they cast her off or pulled her in. Dogs barking and kids laughing. I pushed my sunglasses high on my face to hide my eyes. Shutting the door, I looked again at the black dress I had brought, still feeling it belonged there on the Jeep floor. I resented the dress; I wanted to rip it from the plastic bag, stomp on it, and then tear it into a million pieces.

Hey guys. Above is an excerpt from my novel, The Silence in the Sound. Sorry, I keep repeating the name, but I have to etch it into your soul, so you remember to buy the book. What do you think is happening here? I always love reading just a tiny chunk of a book, trying to figure out what might be going on. Often I’m wrong, but it’s nice to use my imagination. In the world we live in, we don’t get to do that as much as we should or like, at least most of us. Remember being a kid and making a game out of a stick or creating a whole fantasy world with just what you had in your room? When did reality start becoming so real? So real that instead of imagination, daydreaming, and creating, many of us in adulthood turn to substances, food or gambling, etc., for an escape. I’ve been guilty, and it makes me sad.

How can we get some more imagination in our lives? Reading certainly is one of the top answers to that question. A book takes you away into the world the author created; you imagine the characters and scenery and how they look, feel, and smell with the writer’s guidance. A good book can activate all of your senses, and shouldn’t we practice utilizing them in our feelings? It might make us experience life more and become aware of all of the things in it that we casually ignore and take for granted if we did. Suppose you don’t have time to read many books. Maybe skim a creative essay or poem. Think about how it makes you feel and why. What do you think the author is trying to convey? This is mindfulness and a great way to start your morning or insert it into any part of the day. Robert Frost is one of the masters at awakening the senses and evoking feelings, often in the most subtle ways. This is one of my favorites—can’t you just feel the night? Let me know your thoughts. I’d love to hear.

Acquainted with the Night


I have been one acquainted with the night.

I have walked out in rain—and back in rain.

I have outwalked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.

I have passed by the watchman on his beat

And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet

When far away an interrupted cry

Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-bye;

And further still at an unearthly height,

One luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.

I have been one acquainted with the night.