— Jenny Neill

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Lit Crawl Seattle, the local offshoot of the literary pub crawl founded by Litquake in San Francisco, is taking over many boozy spaces that wordsmiths gather for a second year. Starting at 6pm on Thursday, October 24 our local literati, myself included, will be bringing stories to the streets at 19 venues mostly found in Seattle’s Capitol Hill.

Jenny Hayes, a longtime friend and the woman behind the Three Jennys grouping, approached me to emcee because, duh, my name is Jenny. (Plus, I think she knew I’d groove on the idea.)

Come hear

Come hear “Three Jennys Walk into a Bar” at Sam’s Tavern,
Thursday, October 24, 2013 at 6pm

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Boston. Once upon a time, this was my home. I landed there mere weeks after graduating from college. I was about as fresh-faced and wet-behind-the-ears as any kid embarking on her first professional adventure could be. For two weeks, I stayed with a family in Newton. The brother of one of my father’s clients agreed to let me stay until I found an apartment. His wife made me feel right at home, as did their tween son and the big golden lab who liked to lay his head in my lap at the dinner table. I’d come for a new job in a new city. It was a hectic time as I rushed to find an apartment before the first of the next month.

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Most citizens of Seattle associate the number 12 with a certain sport that involves kicking or throwing an oval-shaped ball made out of pigskin. Having heard the Twelfth Man in action from the field in 2011, I have no doubts the crowd gives the team an advantage when playing at home. Earlier this week, that number took on yet another meaning for one of our neighborhoods. The Pike-Pine corridor in Capitol Hill was named one of America’s 12 Top ArtPlaces of 2013.

Seattle Seahawk Sidney Rice runs onto the field with the 12th man flag

Seattle Seahawk Sidney Rice runs onto the field with the 12th man flag.
Photo courtesy of Mike Russell.

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The landscapes of my youth invaded my dreams last night. Having these images—of red brick buildings and expansive lawns, of the sepia of dawn or dusk, of the amber hues and shadows underneath the trees and shrubs—show up as the scenery for some moment of nighttime revery usually signals a shift. I woke up with Ohio on my mind.

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Narrow street, no sun in sight, the cloud-filtered light of the mid-afternoon casts shadows on the smooth whitewashed wall. The early spring air feels heavy and cool. Stagnant. I pushed open the heavy slatted wood shutter hoping for even a slight breeze. How can it be both cool and muggy?

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This is the long-awaited fourth and final installment of my A-to-Z of Travel. Wine, once again, emerges as central to some of my favorite recollections. This trip down memory lane takes us to one of my favorite views from last year’s trip to Hawaii; the reason why I couldn’t get into a bar in Vancouver, BC; and to a beach somewhere in Florida.

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I was arrested first by the dark, linear wood floor inside the cage, lying underneath suspended things. Filmy, yellowed fabrics most seeming to hang from nowhere interspersed with chain link of varying sizes and smaller dark bits; a collar made of shiny, luxurious fur and what seemed like the body of a scorched game hen. All of this and more encircled by a black metal cage with the door propped open, but blocked. To be viewed but not entered.

Spinal Cairn

Photo courtesy of Mike Russell. All rights reserved.

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When I work on building descriptions for a story, I often use the “pre-writing” technique of free writing to capture sensual details of a person or a place. These exercises rarely net me whole passages I can take and use directly in a non-fiction piece. This post started as a free writing exercise to capture details of an encounter I had riding the Max train in Portland today. A new voice and character I’m calling Red Riding Hood emerged in the process.

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I write therefore I drink coffee. Yes, yes, many fellow wordsmiths manage to face down the blank page through sheer determination or with the aid of other caffeinated beverages. But me? I prefer the rich, dark flavors of a good cuppa joe to start my day.

Seattle skyline at sunset

Photo courtesy of Mike Russell, all rights reserved.

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A French country house transported to New York City. A palace made of corn. These are but two of the places the second installment of my A-Z of Travel series will take you. And I offer you a warning now: continuing to read this will get a song stuck in your head.

Intersection of Bedford and Downing Streets in New York City, courtesy of Delusion Productions

Intersection of Bedford and Downing Streets in New York City,
courtesy of Delusion Productions.

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