I'm ever so sorry, but Elisa can't be here today. She's taking a little rest -- locked in the trunk of my car.
You see, I reviewed her book, The Golden Sky, and I wrote a little poem for her. But my blog is private, so very few people were able to read about my unabashed admiration for Elisa. To get the review and the poem out to the world, for today, and today alone, I've hijacked The Crazy Life of a Writing Mom. If by some miracle, you find you like me, you really like me, then please send an email to me at email@example.com to request an invitation to my blog, Janie Junebug's Journal. The first requirement for admittance is that you NOT be my lunatic ex-husband.
Now, that's enough about me. Let's get on with the show. Here's my review of The Golden Sky:
The Golden Sky by E. C. Stilson should be required reading for anyone who might be considering -- even remotely -- the possibility of having sex and getting pregnant. I wish it had been around for me to read when I was 17.
I take this stance because a major theme in this work of non-fiction is that life is not fair and life can be very difficult, and it takes hard work and maturity to get through those tough times.
This book is the journal that E. C. Stilson (Elisa) kept as a young woman. When she was 19 years old, Elisa and her husband Cade had a very young daughter, and Elisa was pregnant. Sadly, their son Zeke had medical problems that resulted in his death. For a time, Elisa and Cade were separated as each sought different methods of dealing with their agony.
It's raw and real. I felt I was with Elisa every step of the way. I must say that if I had been a friend of Elisa's during the time that Cade went off to join a band and smoke pot, I think I would have bitch slapped him but good. That's how strong my feelings were as I read.
I think the sweetest part of the book is when little daughter Ruby wants a helium balloon and then to Elisa's dismay, lets go of the balloon immediately after they leave the store. Ruby then explains in toddlerese that she is sending the balloon to Zeke because they don't have balloons in Heaven. God bless you, Ruby.
Just in case you don't know their story or are not a follower of The Crazy Life of a Writing Mom (Elisa's blog, which you should be following), I'm not going to tell you what happens between Elisa and Cade after they suffer this heartbreaking loss. Read the book so Elisa herself can tell you what happened. Although the death of a child is unimaginable, in the spirit of the poet as "namer" and "sayer," Elisa is able to put these events into words so we have a better idea, a better understanding, of death and bonding and estrangement.
The Golden Sky is a must read. You can purchase it at http://ecwrites.blogspot.com/p/golden-sky-my-journal-about-zeke_02.html. I bought my copies from amazon, where the book has earned five out of five stars.
And I urge you to buy multiple copies. I love to have extra copies of a good book around the house so when a birthday rolls around, I already have a gift. In this case, give The Golden Sky to all the teenagers you know who are old enough to have children, but most likely are not mature enough to deal with the difficulties and the setbacks that can occur.
E. C. Stilson has just released a Young Adult fantasy entitled The Sword of Senack. I have my copy, and I'm sure I'll review it soon.
Infinities of love,
Warning: Once you pick up The Golden Sky, you won't want to put it down.
And here's my poem for Elisa. Even though I wrote it, I get a little teary-eyed when I reread it.
Elisa, if I could make a poem for you,
it would not be made of mere words.
The words would be colors floating around you,
even when the words were spoken.
The first color would be red,
as red as a Ruby.
The second color would be blue,
as blue as the Sky.
The third color would be green,
as green as an Elf.
The fourth color would be every color,
as reflected in a crystal for Indiana Jones.
And every word, every line, every stanza,
would begin and end with your golden love for Zeke,
the boy who had to leave,
the boy who is as Peter Pan,
the boy who will never grow up.
And you, Elisa, you are Wendy,
the mother to lost boys.
Thanks for reading today. I'll let Elisa out of the trunk now. She'll be back tomorrow.