I remember having a discussion on the beach with my husband...well, I remember many discussions together on the beach. This particular one was pre-popping-the-question; It was a date, complete with a picnic and a threatening rainstorm, trying to fit in as much as possible before the lightning came too close.
"Favorite novel?" was the question I was trying to navigate with what I wanted to seem like decisive ease. Internally, it was not. Not decisive, not easy. I was racking my brain, listing through novel after novel, tossing out the non-fiction (not technically a novel, after all), suppressing a smile as I debated answering "Little Women" for a brief moment. How could I really explain to someone who'd never read Louisa May's brilliance that my whole persona as a young adult had been modeled after Jo March?
I landed on the perfect answer in 4 seconds flat (it is amazing how much information can pass through a person's brain in 4 seconds...).
"The Great Gatsby."
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
September 4, 1886
During the late 1800's, non-Indian settlers were flooding into southwestern United States. The Chiricahua Apache nation, including the great warrior, Geronimo, spent decades leading raids against the Mexicans and Americans. Geronimo's mother, wife and children had been murdered at the hands of a group of Mexicans, and Apache land was disappearing at an alarming rate. For thirty years, Geronimo sought revenge.