Magical Realism, Writing, Fiction, Politics, Haiku, Books



viernes, mayo 25, 2012

Memorial Day Weekend

This weekend is Memorial Day Weekend. And in this part of the world, Memorial Day marks the beginning of Summer. If grandma was going to Bradley Beach for the summer for her annual marathon beach sit and 24/7 mah jong game, this is when she would leave Newark. She and all of the other grandmas. Mah jong and card games. And talking. Her grandkids liked this: they knew that when it was really hot and sticky, a Saturday or Sunday visit to grandma meant the ocean. And seafood. And that delicious Coppertone smell. And the sharp contrast between cold, salty Atlantic ocean water and fresh sunburn. It also meant traffic crossing the Perth Amboy bridge, but that was part of the adventure. But enough.

Memorial Day is also the start of the beach reading season. And that means that it's time for this very brief commercial message.

I have written two novellas that are wonderful beach reads. Please buy them. Please read them. They are:

The Dream Antilles:

David Seth Michaels’s magical, utopian novel The Dream Antilles explores desde Desdemona, a secret Caribbean island that submerges at each high tide. For decades, the locals have lived on the island in tree houses. With humor, wit, compassion, and spirit, they ward off repeated threats to their privacy from the outside world, even as they integrate two newcomers into their community who themselves could easily betray the island’s secrets.

The island’s treasures are many. Its existence, location, and massive disinformation campaign, combined with its long and mysterious connections with a pod of dolphins and the Great Mother turtle, make desde Desdemona vulnerable to destruction if discovered. The island also has an unusual relationship with time. But it is the community of traditional plant healers and the magical teachings of Swamiji, its trickster spiritual teacher, that truly must be safeguarded.

The Dream Antilles stands in delightful and hopeful contrast to the blandness and predictability of the everyday world. You will return to the island of desde Desdemona for refreshment over and over again.

And Tulum:

Narrated by a quirky, garrulous, eccentric gringo with a shady past who has been hiding out in Tulum, Quintana Roo, Mexico, for decades, David Seth Michaels's magical, second novella, Tulum, describes the beginning of the narrator's friendship with an unusual Mayan Curandero and his becoming an apprentice to him. The narrator initially seeks out the curandero in desperation for relief from an annoying medical problem. But he later wonders whether the curandero is playing frightening, mischievous tricks on him. Is the curandero making events occur, or is he only predicting them accurately? Is he toying with the narrator? Regardless, will the curandero intervene to help him get what he wants? The doubts are eventually overcome by the narrator's attraction to the curandero's obvious mastery of the unseen and his gratitude for the curandero's repeated assistance in protecting him and helping him fulfill his wishes. Set in Mexico's beautiful Riviera Maya and Cuba, this story of friendship is a humorous, delightful, spiritual journey in which the hidden is far more important than the obvious, surprises abound, and wishes come true. It is also a love letter to a beloved Mayan town poised on the cusp of enormous global change.

Don't like Amazon? OK. You can get The Dream Antilles and Tulum at Barnes & Noble. And if you're not in a rush and want a paperback, rather than an eBook, you can go to your local bookstore and have them order these books for you. That only takes a couple of days.

I like to think of you, dear reader, sitting on the beach of your choice reading The Dram Antilles or Tulum. I like to think of you thinking about and enjoying these two worlds. After all, that's what they're for. It's ok to get sunscreen on the pages. It's ok to grind sand into the binding. It's ok to use a palm leaf as a bookmark. It's ok to get beer on the cover. Go for it. Be my guest.