Hemingway – Quote

‘I decided that I would write one story about each thing that I knew about.’ -Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast.

I sit with strong coffee and read his words. His words are so well used they live within me directly after having met them. I once wrote ‘You can’t rewrite Hemingway’ and feel this to be severely true and that no one person should even try. However, if one sits and writes about what they know and their voice is their own and is strong they’ve done it. Each experience is unique.  A trip to get milk, written well, can be the best story to write and to read. And If I take Hemingway’s advice I’ll have enough to write about for the entirety of my life. In fact, I’ll not be able to finish.

Have a good day. I hope there will be wine and laughter. I hope you smile and are smiled upon. I hope we all do not take for granted today.

Cheers,

-M. Taggart

More thoughts on Papa:
https://mtaggartwriter.wordpress.com/category/hemingway/

 

 

A Purposeful Life – Fiction

Written by Matt Taggart aka -M. Taggart

Copyright 2016

A Purposeful Life – Fiction

 

And the children were happy because they loved their uncle and love was a smile.  He reached lower to ruffle each of their heads.  His nephew ran after his twin sister through the doorway leading into the living room and both were now gone.  Only the sounds of their footsteps racing upstairs were left for him.

He was alone.  His brother and wife had already said goodbye and were also upstairs.  Now, all that was left was to open the closet door, find his jacket, and leave.

Hanging on hooks, on the back of the closet door, were coats with little hoods that had animal ears.  On the closet floor were tiny boots.  He told himself not to think about it, but it was too late and he’d already started.  He reached out and touched a red checkered coat that belonged to his nephew.

No, he thought.  This is their happiness and it isn’t right to think of this now.  He closed the front door behind him, walked down the porch steps, and into the driveway.  He opened the door to his truck and got in.

Opening the windows, feeling the wind, and listening to music while he drove didn’t help.  He turned the radio off.  The winding New Hampshire road led him through farm land.  Cow pastures and corn fields were on either side of him.  Beyond the fields was woodland leading to a deeper forest.  Maybe he ought to stop his truck and walk in as deeply as he could and not come back for a long while or ever.  It seemed it was now always like this.  Each time he visited his brother- to see family, he was forced to remember and now it was overwhelming and he couldn’t not think of it.

It was difficult for him to look forward to his empty studio apartment containing walls which mocked each of his thoughts.  He would pace his small apartment and view the same cracks each time he passed them as not to tip the balance one way or the other.  Then he’d sit on his one chair he owned and read.  Sometimes this would help.  Other times it would only open him more to what he’d been trying to escape.  He was reminded that scars of this nature won’t heal with any one word from any one mouth and most likely won’t heal at all.  No matter how many words he’ll hear or read.

He knew deeply he needed change.  The cow pastures on the winding road wanted him to settle here, with them all, but he couldn’t.  He continued to drive, although he wasn’t truly in this moment.  He was nearly already pacing in his studio wondering which Hemingway story to read to find peace.  He wouldn’t think of it though, he told himself.  He’d only try and think of how they had smiled with love and try to learn it all again.  The sun was bright.  His mind split while trying to give permission to live with purpose.

 

I invite you to learn about my self published book.

https://mtaggartwriter.wordpress.com/my-book/

Or you can skip directly to the amazon page and read the reviews.

Thank you for reading.

Matt

 

The Truth Shall Set you Free. – Odd Walking Thoughts

And the Truth Shall Set You Free. You saw the girl push her hand down the teachers pants. He smiled and asked her to find his change. Do not fog now. Do not. The wife asked if you were as big as a man. She wanted to see. The child wanted to speak and wouldn’t be heard. The teacher wanted to talk, in the closet of the janitor, you said no and yet there you were. The teacher showed too much. A child speaks and tells their story and the truth did nothing. Their truth listened and saw much. It was over now and here they stand. Alone. Even while you read. The children reach through their windows and wish the moon were closer.

Life with we – Odd Walking Thoughts

There’s plenty of sunshine where I come from.
I live in my my head.
Away from all of you.
I sit by my sill and evade your emotions.
I turn back each promise of neglect.
Each lingering word which might begin to evolve into a need-
given from you to me.
I live here- with the smiles from my me.
Alone, with our four walls- because I have become we.
It’s nothing really. To toss you out before you begin.
It’s this thing we call self.
We protect our appetite for fortitude by forgetting life itself.

copyright 2016 -M. Taggart