Hey Rac,
I read this particular part of the story the same day you posted it, and liked it very, very much right away. I was particularly captivated by the evocative way you have of describing everything. I very much liked the tea kettle image, for instance, which parallels the situation 'boiling over' in Lois and Clark's lives. But I felt I couldn't properly comment on a single part, until I'd read the rest of the story, too.
Then I found out that this isn't just a story, it's a fully fledged epic tale! So here I am, having spent a week's worth of evenings reading 'The Longest Road'. I'm done, now.
I'm also speechless.
You moved and touched and bewildered and amazed me in all the right ways; you told me a story that swallowed me up whole and spit me out with an altered perception of the world around me; and somehow, you managed to keep me thoroughly entertained while you were at it.
Being far less than half the writer you are, I lack the eloquence to make it clear to you exactly how and why your words managed to affect me so deeply. But to give you some idea of how completely in awe of your talent I am, let me tell you that when I looked over Clark's shoulder as he read the opening paragraphs of 'The Shade of a Bitterwood Tree' (great title, by the way), I realized that I genuinely felt like this might have been something written by a Pulitzer Prize-winning, best-selling author, who also happens to be one of the very best columnists and investigative journalists of her generation. If that doesn't get my message across, I don't know what will
.
Of course, like everyone else here, I'll be sitting on the edge of my seat waiting for more, while I valiantly try to keep justifying the fact that I call myself a writer in the presence of such incredible talent.
I'd ask you to keep at it, please, but I think that goes pretty much without saying.
- Ped
