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Joshua Alan Doetsch

~ Author & Scrivnomancer

Joshua Alan Doetsch

Tag Archives: nostalgia

Where you from?

29 Wednesday Aug 2012

Posted by scrivnomancer in Uncategorized

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"Where I'm From", bogs, Chicago, childhood home, coyote howls, double-decker pizza, Dunkin' Donuts coffee, everglades, family, George Ella Lyon, grandma and grandpa, grandparents, great grandparents, Illinois, island of bones, Jack O' Lanters, Key West, mark the magician, memories, nostalgia, October Country, playing card games, poem, pumpkin pie, skull beads, St. Anthony, sugar skulls, tropics, vacation, Vincent Price, whence I came, writing exercise

There is a writing exercise you might try over HERE. It takes a George Ella Lyon poem, “Where I’m from,” and turns it into a sort of advanced ad-libs, where by you fill in some info and describe the places/people/events that formed you. My attempt is featured below. If you try your hand at it, post the result in the comments. I’d like to see where you’re from.

EDIT: Thanks to Martine for showing this to me.

-WHERE I’M FROM-
by Joshua Alan Doetsch

I am from the goblin roads, by the bog, where early A.M. mists tickle hands hanging out passenger windows, a thousand degrees colder than the surrounding summer night—from Dunkin’ Donuts coffee and the grinnin’ skull-bead bracelets my mother makes for me.

I am from the house with the shrieking-turquoise garage door, the tropical biosphere interior, impossible anomaly of the Midwest—waxen, Vincent Price sideshow bedroom—glamour photography by dad. From the wooded, backyard deck, the iron fire pit, listening to audio fiction, punctuated by coyote calls that sound like the second, fifth, and ninth steps of going insane.

I am from the whispering leaves, the groans-by-night corn.

I am from Jack O’ Lanterns picked fresh from the patch, at Great Grandma and Grandpa’s farm and playing card games by candlelight through tornado warnings, from my father, Mark the Magician; and my mother, Renee the Potter; and my brother, Nick the Pirate; and my sister, Danielle the Scream Queen—and every cross-hatched eccentricity—Bradford to Bradford—Doetsch by Doetsch.

I am from photographing gators in the Glades of Ever and walking ghost tours in Key West, which is really Cayo Hueso, which is really “Island of Bones,” which is really full of t-shirt shops and frozen drinks.

From the prayers to St. Anthony to find all things lost and the chewed stubs of the whole carrots left out for Santa’s reindeer the night before.

I am from the Catholic cross, the confessional, the Body and Blood. And then from the rum prayers, the happy macabre, the sugar skulls that hummed voodoo hymns to me on every Caribbean pilgrimage.

I’m from October Country, Chicago’s shadow, and Ray Bradbury dreams remixed—pumpkin pie and double-decker pizza that was divine until the restaurant owner was knifed by her son.

From the great grandparents, Lord and Lady of the Patch, who contrived a big sleep of exhaust, in a car in a parking lot—when their minds and bodies began to go—together forever, and the other great grandma, Mima, who was a writer, who told me to write, who died while I was away, waking to our van surrounded by bison in Yellowstone.

I am from inside my head, where I hang it all so prettily upon my hueso walls.

Nostalgia Hiccups PART 3

17 Monday Dec 2007

Posted by scrivnomancer in Uncategorized

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Tags

africa, dee, dr. logsdon, genenda, joanna tweedy, memories, nostalgia, the emerald green glow

Still sorting. Still sifting.

Wanna dance with me through the shuffle?…

Found the very first complete short story I ever wrote (titled “The Emerald Green Glow”) from early on in high school (if you don’t count the allegorical story I wrote in grade school in place of the essay that the teacher assigned as punishment to the whole class, because a few students were talking—the story stressed how unfair this was, replacing human students with anthropomorphic raccoons…though I did not know what “anthropomorphic” meant at the time).

Found a manilla envelope I received from one of my favorite college teaches (Dr. Logsdon). I don’t actually recall how this envelope was delivered to me as the only address reads:

Josh Doetsch
Famous EC Grad
Noted Actor and Writer
Sworn Enemy of Dullards

Found a letter I once got from Dee, accompanying her Christmas gift to me: a signed headshot and a lock of her hair—because in a prior conversation she asked what the most egotistical gift an actress could give someone and that was my answer.

Found a letter from the Peoria Health Department that had warned me that my meningitis vaccination was a from a bad batch and didn’t offer “full protection” and listed all the high risk countries (which included every African country I had been to). I received this letter several months after visiting Africa. I had a long laugh.

Found my first writing contract.

Found a Valentine’s day card from Genenda.

Found a bit of flattery…once upon a time, my grad school writing class was assigned to pair up and write a fake blurb that might appear on the dust jacket of your partner’s supposed novel. This was written by the very lovely Joanna Beth Tweedy Willmore:

“Like Mesmer, the last name Doetsch may well become eponymous for the author’s ability to draw readers into worlds from which they may find it happily impossible to return. Joshua Alan invites readers to the outer edge of surrealism where horror, mythology, stand-up, and Mother Angelica won’t agree to meet, but metabolize in a fantastical and satisfying gumbo. You don’t have a hair on your rumpus if you’re not hipwaggin’ it to be the first in line for the next ladle full.”

[NOTE: Joanna actually uses words like “rumpus” and “hipwaggin’” and phrases like “cicada cadence” and is such a thorough delight that she glows in the dark.]

Found the printed rules for Vampire Tag.

Found my and Nick’s beer-pong champion certificate. We are mighty in the art of drunken pong.

Found a raggedy Andy sort of a doll that my godmother made me when I was born. It’s as old as I am. This makes me nervous as I’m not sure at what point a doll gains sentience…

Found a translated copy of the Malleus Maleficarum.

Found a music CD Torrie made for me (entitled “Josh’s Chubby”).

Found a box of Magnum XL condoms and a box of razors—props for the magic act Nick and I did for a burlesque show. The items on my shopping list, that day, included magnum condoms, razors, a banana, bikini briefs, lemons, and a few other items. The checkout girl watched me with very wide eyes (probably wondering what I had planned for that night).

Found several abstracts—some I quickly pocketed—some fluttered away—one got caught in a spiderweb trying to fly out my window…

Found a hipbone from Cro-Magnon man.

And the excavation continues…

Nostalgia Hiccups PART 2

15 Saturday Dec 2007

Posted by scrivnomancer in Uncategorized

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Tags

nostalgia

 . . . and I’m still going through boxes and I come across a set of handcuffs and the memories attached there are not as conventionally sweet…but they do come with their share of  smiles.

My frowns are fickle things, no staying power at all.

He-he-he!

Predawn Nostalgia Hiccups

14 Friday Dec 2007

Posted by scrivnomancer in Uncategorized

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nostalgia


Early a.m. and reorganizing and moving furniture, in preparation for my new bed (phase 2 of the plan to improve my sleeping habits).

Come across an old high school letter.

Smile.

Smile unfurls.

Things left unsaid.

Things I couldn’t say back then.

And I’ve managed to lose track of her–all contact info two steps behind the years.

Argh!

Hey.  You out there?  You reading this now? . . .

. . .

No.  Probably not.

Bah!

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