New Light

The world has turned on its axis a billion times over. Any story we have to tell has undoubtedly been told before. Yet we enter each day anew–the break of dawn a chance at new life. We’re born into this world. We rise, we strive, we shine, we glow. Eventually our light will be extinguished. With any hope, our story will linger on. A story that has been told and retold inevitably comes out differently in the hands of a new writer. The voice may not yet be as eloquent as a Baldwin or Morrison or Langston Hughes, the technique not as polished. But a new writer possesses a fresh perspective, a new take on things. I took Wally Lamb’s southeastern CT–I Know This Much is True and added color. I painted the landscape black and brown and tan and blood red. Found fascination in the circumstance of people who at best draw passing interest in Lamb’s account of the place he and I both call home. As a new writer, I’m not yet on Lamb’s level, but I have a story to tell, a perspective to lend–a renewed energy, a different light.