The Ghosts of Autumn: DAY ONE: SUNDAY

Sunday, October 31: Halloween

I'm inclined to think we are all ghosts --every one of us. It's not just what we inherit from our mothers and fathers that haunts us. It's all kinds of old defunct theories, all sorts of old defunct beliefs, and things like that.

- Henrik Ibsen, Ghosts

Autumn comes like a warrior, with the stain of blood upon his brazen mail. His crimson scarf is rent. His scarlet banner drips with gore. His step is like a flail upon the threshing floor.

- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Autumn

on to Chapter 1

About the Author

J
Cotati, California, United States

I was born in Dutch Wonderland, that part of Eastern Pennsylvania settled by the Amish, and others, beginning around 1727. The only son of mostly Swiss-German immigrants from Bern, who came to these shores in the early 18th Century, my upbringing was rich with Pennsylvania Dutch heritage. My grandparent's generation grew up on the family farm, but by my time the farm had been sold and everyone had urbanized, modernized and moved. My parents and I were all raised in Berks County, Pennsylvania after the majority of the family had given up their mennonite ways.

About the Book

The Ghosts of Autumn

Last October, I settled on a working title and basic premise. Using the symbolism of seasonal decay, a middle-aged man grappling with his own mortality flies home for a funeral and confronts both the reality of death and the unreality of lingering regrets of his youth as he revisits the haunts where the ghosts of his youth now taunt him. You know, a comedy.

About NaNoWriMo

National Novel Writing Month

NaNoWriMo or National Novel Writing Month is November. The object is to write a 175-page (50,000 word) novel in 30 days. "Valuing enthusiasm and perseverance over talent and craft, the ONLY thing that matters in NaNoWriMo is output. It's all about quantity, not quality. The kamikaze approach forces you to lower your expectations, take risks, and write on the fly." Last year I thought, what the hell, it sounded like a fun, bizarre exercise. And it was. It was exhilirating, fun, painful, agonizing and wonderful all at the same time. I wrote 52,880 words last year, hitting my goal of 50,000 words but only making it half way through my novel. This year the goal is to finish the novel, which I believe will require at least another 50,000 words but at this point I can't say that with absolute certainty.

The Ghosts of Autumn

DAY ONE: SUNDAY

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