My Mind's' Eye

I met up with a friend for lunch yesterday. She was my next door neighbor growing up and being only 2 1/2 years apart we played together as children. We sledded in snow, dressed up in our mom's old clothes, climbed trees and played "house" with our dolls. Some of the first photos I ever took are of her and I remember dreading it when she would leave for summer camp.

We continued to stay in touch, even in college. I went to school in Europe and then out West and she went to art school in NYC. We would travel together both in the US and abroad and as we grew up and older we kept in contact. She and I both went through some rough times and we were always there for one another: broken hearts and dreams. I remember the day of my wedding when she took one look at me in my gown and burst into tears. I have a photo of she and my mom together that day and it makes me both happy and extremely sad.

Throughout our relationship we went through periods when we drifted and didn't talk much. Right around 9/11 we hit a rough patch and it seemed our relationship was over and then something happened, I'm not even sure what it was exactly, but we began to reach out to one another and yesterday we finally met up again.

When I saw her I cried. She is still so beautiful, the friend I remember from my youth. She felt the same about me, reminding me that despite how grown up I looked, in her minds eye I was still that high school kid, smoking cigarettes, trying to be cool, not having a care in the world.

I began to think about everyone I love. How do I picture them in my mind? At what point in their lives are they captured in my minds eye? I carry an image of each of them and attached to that image are such powerful feelings. My friend is a wife and a mother but to me she is just my old friend, ageless and timeless.

I kept staring at her, remembering every line and freckle and marveling at how little she had changed, not just in a few years but since our youth. Even though we have aged, she showed little evidence of it and for a moment I felt like we had cheated time.

Ironically, in my second novel, one of the main characters meets up with someone he though was long gone from his life. His reaction to her as he stares at her face and into her eyes is one of utter shock. Not to give much away, but he finds himself face to face with a living breathing memory of a woman who lived in his mind's eye. I try to capture his emotion when he thinks about her and how to convey what is churning inside of him: shock, joy, pain and sadness.

Vampires don't age but they grow and change just like the rest of us. And just like our friends and lovers, this woman still holds the key to such powerful memories and history for him. She exists in both her world and in his mind's eye as time keeps moving, wrapping them both in it's illusory embrace.

The printed word

Just yesterday I was talking with a friend about this age we live in as being so fast and so disposable. It's not just about technology, wanting newer and better, but about the speed in which we travel, whether to the grocery store or across the country. Though it is hard to imagine life without ipods, cell phones or airplanes, I can't help but focus on books. Now we can down load books onto our desktops, kindles or various other electronic devices.

Another friend of mine who commutes into NYC every day once raved about these devices as she could carry many books with her in one device. When I saw her last week, she pulled out a paperback book she was currently reading and though her focus was on how interesting the book was, I could not help but wonder if she was still using other "devices" to read. I didn't have the heart to ask.

Reading along with buying books has always been one of my favorite activities. I remember a time when I dare not read a paperback. It had to be hard cover all the way. Obviously, my point of view has changed, but not my love of books or of reading. I meet a friend of mine once a week for coffee at our local Barnes and Noble. I also get a chance to peruse the store and I must admit I am hard pressed not to buy something. [Yesterday I bought The Snow Thieves by Elizabeth Kostova and The Flirt by Laurell K. Hamilton].

Reading is a need for me, like sleeping or breathing . It's one of the last things I do at night. I can't imagine a winter night not sitting in front of my fireplace reading a good book. It's a relationship I forged as a child that sustains me and is as important as my marriage, my friendships or my family.

As I walk through Barnes and Noble I realize I am not the only one who loves the printed word, or who views a 600 page novel as an invitation into another world and can't wait to get on board. As a writer hoping to be published, I am in awe of those who are and as I jump from book to book reading the jacket or the acknowledgement page I thank them.

I dream of the day someone might be reading my book jacket or my acknowledgement page and thanking me for keeping the printed word alive and inviting them on a journey into another world. Who knows, right?