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- to discard as useless or unsatisfactory
- to cast out or eject; vomit
ON THE OTHER EYE
As you may know, I have had cataract surgery on both eyes. Multiple-focus lenses were implanted in both eyes. It may be too early to reach final conclusions, but I can share preliminary results. Colors look brighter.
I never knew how limited my peripheral vision was until I had the ability to look toward each side. My right eye was operated on first. While I wore glasses with the right lens poked out, I kept getting startled by cars coming from behind me on the left. Apparently, I had not noticed them before.
My brain seems less confused than when it had had one lens outside the eye and the second lens inside. I can read average-sized print. I can see in medium and far distance. I have to use a magnifier to read tiny print.
At least twice when I went to bed I reached up to my temples to remove glasses that were not there. My wife tells me I tilt my head to try to see better. That was sometimes useful with glasses. It doesn’t do a thing for implanted lenses.
At this point my vision waxes and wanes. It should stabilize over time. I am definitely improving at not blinking when something approaches my eyeballs.
That’s what I call a mixed blessing.
After much urging I have decided to start my seventh novel. It is set in a fictional town in Delaware in the 1750s. After some poking around in historical sources, I realized that I couldn’t write about Colonial Delaware without including slavery. In the 1700s half of the slaves in Delaware were born in Africa.
Delaware ran hot and cold on the issue of slavery. The colony was divided between the Quaker north, where slaves were house servants or worked small plot s of their master’s land, and the south, where larger plantations demanded free labor to survive. While there are no slaves in Delaware today, that division still exits.
Early on, people of color, free or enslaved, were not allowed to leave the state or return to it. This kept them from being sold south to the harsher work conditions on the large cotton plantations. If they left the state and were gone more than three days they couldn’t come back. This kept slaves from being purchased elsewhere and brought into the state, but it also meant that people were not allowed to return to their families.
Delaware was a Union state during the Civil War, but at the time there were 1800 slaves within our borders. Not a single one of them was freed by the Emancipation Proclamation, since it freed only slaves from the rebel states.
Newspapers offer useful details about runaway slaves or indentured servants: clothing, patterns of speech, country of origin, education, and the amount of the reward. Books by Delaware scholars provide understanding of laws, living conditions, and social interactions. It’s harder to find a narrative that tells what it felt like to be uprooted from your home and live the rest of your life in servitude.
The more I read the more I realized that slavery was going to be central to the plot, not just something to be mentioned in passing. How is a novelist supposed to deal with this? I need my main characters to be likable but they have to be slave owners. How can I strike that balance? I’ve read plenty of good books where the writer tackled cultures not their own. How does a 21st century white, middle class woman write about 18th century slavery? I will be working through this problem the whole time I am writing, and rewriting.
My plight reflects a split that has been present since the beginning of the colony, and is evident in the paper this morning. The black community is disputing the right of the city to award a grant to the Delaware Historical Society (run by people like me) to set up a black heritage and cultural center.
The other day I ran into this quote by James Baldwin: People who treat other people as less than human must not be surprised when the bread they cast upon the water comes back poisoned.
Seems like a pretty good basis for a novel.
I'm itching to travel.
I can't imagine a time when I didn't want to go out and explore this great, big world of ours. Different cultures. Different people. Different languages. All of them were fascinating to me.
England, Wales, and Scotland were where I went on my first overseas trip. While there, I discovered my love for interesting architecture. I discovered my love of photographing those buildings at interesting angles on the same trip.
My first few photos (well, to be honest, first couple hundred) were straight-on pics. Then one day I cocked my head and looked at a building in a different way. That photo wound up being my favorite and most interesting one of the entire trip.
Since then, that's about all I do when I go on trips. I will take one or two shots head-on, just so people can easily recognize what they're looking at (myself included), but most of my camera's disk space is chock full of angled pictures.
So, what does this have to do with me being itchy to travel?
It just means that I’ve got to wait until then to scratch my itch.