Friday, October 21, 2011

Chapter Sixteen: I go back to Tyrone's to encourage him to write his novel

I decided that Vivienne was doing everything she could do for children at risk in her job as a nurse.  She was seeing women who were pregnant under difficult circumstances keeping them going to their doctors and trying to give birth to a healthy child.  She had whole portfolio of cases.  I really could not expect more of her at this time.  Maybe later on when she had time to think about the issue of legalized abortion more she could possibly add that to her list of causes.  She seemed to assume that was the job I had taken on in the family, while she was determined that all women should nurse their babies instead of giving them formula. 
She had even taken a test that cost her more than $500 to qualify as a lactation consultant.  If she did not pass the $500 dollars would have been wasted, but she studied hard and passed.  I did not know if I could get her to take on saving babies from abortion when she was so caught up in trying to get new moms to nurse.  I didn't know if I should even be sending her messages from the beyond to that effect.  She was already complaining about chronic fatigue.  No, I had better be cautious about expecting more from Vivienne at this time. 
But I did decide to go back over to Tyrone's for another visit to see if I could encourage him to finish the novel he had started.  I was afraid Jilly his dog just would not be able to give him that message.  I did not know how I was going to tell him what I thought either, but I could see when I arrived that he had his lap top open, so there was a good chance he was thinking about writing.  Tyrone was a playwright as I had been in my earlier years.  When he left his theater company and eventually took up teaching theater, I turned to novel writing, and somehow or another never got one close to publication except my last one which was called, "Then Came the Dawn."  I had it almost ready to send off to try to get it published as an E-book on the Internet when I passed away.  It was so maddening to think I had to up and die before I could finish that task.
I was afraid that my kids Rafe, Tyrone, Vivienne, and Santos would become too lazy to do anything about getting my novel published.  Santos would just say it served me right, I should have waited to die.  Santos was writing a novel, too, and Vivienne had written one, too.  She wouldn't let me read it since it was a romance novel and I had always tried to get her not to read romance novels let alone write them.  Santos preferred to write fantasy fiction, the kind men wrote.  He had not let me read his novel either, and I doubted that he had read "Then Came the Dawn" even though I posted it in a blog.  I knew Tyrone (Tangier) was writing a novel based on a play he had written when he was teaching theater in high school. I was sure Rafe was not writing a novel although God knows he could have written one with all he knew about the construction business, but he was a man of such few words writing a novel was probably beyond him.  He preferred to write cryptic poetry.
As I sat there in Rafe's living room, the phone rang and Tyrone answered it.  I could soon make out he was talking to my sister Deborah who amazingly wanted to know if he or any of the other kids had done anything about publishing my novel, "Then Came the Dawn."
"No," said Tyrone, "We are too busy writing our own novels.  We don't have time to stop and do anything with Mother's, as it might not be a sure thing."
Deborah asked him how his novel was coming and Tyrone said he was trying to decide whether to try to publish it under the name of Tangier, to sort of throw people off.  "Just get it done and out there!" I could hear my sister Deborah saying very loudly.  "I am even wondering if I shouldn't write a novel."
"Yes, I think you should, Aunt Debbie," said Tyrone firmly. "I think Mother has put too much about her cause in her book, so I am reluctant to stop and spend the time to try to get it out there, when people don't like that subject."
"What?" said Deborah.  "But she probably feels awfully bad to think she did not get it published before she died."  Why she could not have given him my message any better than if I had been sitting there saying the same thing to him myself. "I know people don't like the subject of legalized abortion," Deborah went on, "but she told me the reason she set her novel in the hereafter was so she could write about all the children who have died and gone there as a result of legalized abortion."
"I know why she did it," said Tyrone.  "But I am just not ready to take up that cause yet.  I am getting ready to but I am not there yet."
"Well, okay," said Deborah, "as long as you are thinking about it.  I know it is not a very entertaining subject, but I was just thinking, perhaps you could send her manuscript to me and I would work on getting it published.  I could do the research and consult with you and Santos about how to do it.  I think I would rather try to publish her novel than write one myself, as I doubt I am as good a novel writer as she is."
"I could talk to my brothers and sister and see if that is okay with them, Aunt Deborah.  If you are willing to do it.  I am sure Santos would know better how to send you the manuscript than I would."
"Okay, if it's all right with you, I will talk to him.  What about Vivienne?  Do you think she would have any objection?"
"No, I doubt she would. She is too busy to do anything with it, but you might give her a call just in case."
"What about Rafe?"
"Call him, too, it would give you a good excuse.  He is not talking a whole lot to me.  I know he doesn't believe I am going to really make money writing novels, but if I can get plays published I can surely write novels.  I have just never tried to write novels before.  I was too hung up on doing theater."
"I think it is a wonderful idea, Tyrone.  You have been having so much trouble with financing falling through for your play productions.  Maybe there comes a time to switch."
"Theater is an archaic art form that is all there is to it.  I have always been hung up on theater, but never had any great success with my plays.  When you stop and think what goes into a play production, you can understand why a playwright is going to have a tough time making any money.  That is why I finally did decide to switch.  I am taking my most successful high school play and transforming it into a novel.  I am having a lot of fun doing it because I find I can go into even greater detail than I could in a play.  Actually I think this play might be a more powerful novel than it is play, and I could reach so many more kids with it. I have been writing day and night since I started it, but I was also hired to direct a play, so I am having to save time and energy for that, too.  You know I haven't been too well since my cabin burned down.  Burning all your belongings up does something to you."
"I am sure it must, Tyrone."
"I need to replace a hundred things. I think my novel has become about loss.  The boy in the novel loses his life just as I almost lost mine. So I relate to this novel about loss more than I ever did.  I am telling my story, too."
"Tyrone, you need to stay on this earth.  Let us old ladies go before you.  It was not your time to die.  So I will work on getting your mother's book published while you finish yours.  I have got time."
"Thanks, Aunt Deborah.  I really do need to get my novel written.  It's catharsis for me."
"Bye now.  I will let you get back to your work."
Tyrone turned off his phone, and pretty soon his fingers were flashing above his laptop.
Jilly, his dog was outside.  I decided I better slip away before she wanted to come in. She might spot me there and started barking. No sense getting her all nervous. I felt my mission had been accomplished without her even being involved.  And the next minute I was gone.

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