“Flash Jackson doesn’t give a flying fart what’s ladylike and what isn’t” states the main character of this novel by William Kowalski that I’m recommending even though I’m only half way through.
First of all, the main character is a spunky, sassy, horse-riding 17-year-old 0ld-Soul girl who lives in rural upstate New York and whose grandmother, a Mennonite, lives in a shack in the woods where she brews up herbs and other witchy things.
Secondly, this girl’s best friend is a 28-year old diagnosed (perhaps not totally accurately) schizophrenic who can’t dream and who has the mind of a young boy. During one of his “episodes,” as he stands with the girl before an open field, he says that he wants to build a theater there. He says:
“This will be a place where people can come and tell their stories. They’ve been silenced, Haley. It’s not right . Someone has to help them get their voice back, and I’m going to do it. [snip]
“Someone has to give them their voice back, or I don’t know what will happen. But it’ll be bad. It’s already bad. And it’s going to get worse…….The state of communication in the world today,” he said, “is very very bad……I’ll build the theater and they can come from all over. People from the whole world can come right here, and they can get onstage and tell everyone their story, and then things will be okay again. People will understand each other.”
That resonated for me with what Ken Camp has posted about today and also what Jeneane once envisioned (a kind of bloggers encampment). This is it, the stage from which people tell their stories. Blogs. The understanding is happening. Slowly, maybe, but it’s happening.
Take heart, Shelley, wherever you are.