Book 4 of The Manhattan Series is taking a little longer for me to write. There are the usual distractions: foreseen and unforeseen events, changes in personal situations, updates and attentions on the earlier books… But in the meantime, there are also some unexpected pleasures and treasures around this time of year that relate to the rhythm of the seasons and the story I’m writing.
Working on my book series—I’m in the middle of writing Book 4 of The Manhattan Series—I’ve been thinking a lot about drumming.
Historically, drumming has been at the center of many cultures’ lifestyles for hundreds if not thousands of years. Drums are not just musical instruments but channels to something much deeper: a rhythmic life force. Drumming allows the drummers to interact with a higher power.
I’d never seen the Potomac River frozen. It was solid ice all the way to the Virginia side. But full of lumps and chunks. Not smooth like at the skating rink where I took lessons.
“We’re going to skate across?” I asked, my stomach tumbling when I looked to the far shore.
“You bet we are,” said my Dad, play-punching me on the shoulder. “It doesn’t freeze hard like this much. You’re never going to forget this day.”