I’m proud as a peacock of the mindful review photo-artist Timothy Price did of Atonement, Tennessee. But I was absolutely stunned when I saw the photo-art he created for it. I was also delighted, flattered, honored, humbled…
Tim created his interpretation of the old graveyard, which is the setting for a couple of key scenes in my novel. Tim’s photography is based in New Mexico. So that is where he found an old cemetery that gives a southwestern perspective of those scenes.
That perspective is what made the photography so special to me. You see, I’ve always enjoyed the fact that a single story can be perceived differently by a dozen people. When people talk to me about “Atonement,” each reader’s perspective brings out a different aspect of the story — and that makes my spirit soar! (I wonder… do peacocks soar?)
Recently Tim added reviews to his blog. He’s also doing great memory-story features he calls Tales from My Youth. I really enjoy those, and I’m sure you will too.
So please, follow the links to Tim’s blog and check out his review and photo-art of Atonement, Tennessee.
Oh yes… since Tim’s photo captured the spirit of the novel and the graveyard scenes so well, here’s a suitable little snippet from my novel. Our heroine has been in her new/old home little more than 24 hours. It’s getting dark when she realizes the cat is missing…
“Atonement, Tennessee” Snippet
I thought about the layout of the property and realized I was making my way to the graveyard. It would be just like Lilith to cause me to wander around in the dark. Alone. In a cemetery!
Naturally I had no idea which way the cat went, and I don’t know why I kept going that direction. However, if something made me feel like going that way, then I knew that was where I should go. So I did.
In the fading light it was hard to make out the gravestones that told me I had reached the cemetery. Everything was overgrown. I thought the street should be over and down the hill from that spot. I hoped Lilith didn’t venture that far. Oh great, I thought. Now I was getting even more worried, because I had thought of the street. My heart beat faster still.
I raised the kibble box to rattle it again, hopping it would get her attention. Suddenly I stopped. I was sheltered by a big clump of tall bushes of some sort. I thought it might be mountain laurel. I could see the broad side of the mausoleum from there.
Shadows lurched violently against the stone crypt. Big shadows. Reflexively I drew back into the concealing vegetation. Then I heard a loud avian-like screech and realized that the shadow shapes might have been wings. My heart hammered.
The noise escalated. It definitely sounded like more than one creature was causing that ruckus. Then I heard the cat hiss. I dropped the box of food and ran toward the sounds; ready to use the flashlight as a club, and wishing I had something more effective.
“Lilith!” I called. Oh, let’s face it — I screamed.
As I ran out form the concealing mountain laurel a gust of wind buffeted me. I tripped and fell on the uneven pavers of the path, just as the wind blew my hair, along with some dirt, into my eyes. I couldn’t see at all for a moment, but I heard a lot of heavy rustling, scraping, shifting sounds.
Every time I thought I had half way cleared my eyes, the wind blew something into them again. I struggled to my feet, desperately wiping my stinging eyes. I heard soft footsteps coming toward me.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
With an electric jump I gasped. The calm kindness of the words did nothing to ease the added fear of knowing there was a person there. A stranger. In the dark. In the graveyard.
Now… Truly shameless self-promotion
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