Theresa Crater

We watched the Tucson Memorial service last night because we knew it could be a moment of national healing, a moment where our hearts would be uplifted. And we were right.

One of Congresswoman Gifford’s staff talked about her healing process, how she’s there, bringing the same courage and expectation of progress to recovering from a brain injury that she brought to her work with her community and fellow Congress members.

Dr. Carlos Gonzales opened with a traditional prayer with the permission of his elders, bringing our Native American heritage front and center. He reminded us of our less than perfect beginning, but of how America struggles constantly to realize her dream. Intern Daniel Hernandez refused the label of hero. But perhaps a hero is an ordinary person doing what needed to be done. He reminded us of e pluribus unum, that out of many we become one.

President Obama spoke quietly of each victim in words that could almost have been whispered into the ears of family members, but that everyone needed to hear. He spoke of tragedy, but then he pointed to the hope—how people saved more from being killed, how people helped those who were injured, how people immediately moved toward healing. He called for us to remember that dream of perfecting our union, of remaking the world in its image, but not through the violence that has marred our history too often. He said “it’s important for us to pause for a moment and make sure that we are talking with each other in a way that heals, not a way that wounds.” He challenged us to be as good and as deserving of respect as the child Christina Taylor Green thought we were. “I want us to live up to her expectations. I want our democracy to be as good as she imagined it.”

The president of the University of Arizona ended with Poet Laureate W.S. Merwin’s “To the New Year.” The last lines reminded me of aging, oddly enough, of that dream we had as teenagers or young adults, when we were full of idealism and hope, marching for peace, for equality, for civil rights, for women’s rights. For that dream of a more perfect world, for justice. And now, forty years later, we see our nation in almost the same place, and yet not. Some of us have despaired. Some of us have given up. But Merwin’s words assure us that the dream is still there:

so this is the sound of you
here and now whether or not
anyone hears it this is
where we have come with our age
our knowledge such as it is
and our hopes such as they are
invisible before us
untouched and still possible

The dream we worked for is still there. Other generations worked for it in the past. Other generations have been born and taken up the vision. Everything is still possible.

Back to work, beginning on Friday with the annual Martin Luther King Breakfast at Metro State. Always inspiring. Classes start next week. No creative writing courses this semester, but a Native American lit class which is always fun. Two books being edited now. Looking forward to seeing the suggestions. My mystery is cooking.

My condolences to the families of those who were killed in the shooting in Arizona, and prayers and positive thoughts for those still struggling to heal. As a writer, I can only marvel at people who advocate violence in their speeches and writings, then act surprised when it manifests. Words have power. Thoughts become actions. I watched the Kennedy brothers be assassinated, and King and other civil rights leaders, too. Let’s clean it up, people. Get conscious. Be honest.

Over at Tor, they want us to let them know what we think was the best SF/F of the decade. Even if you don’t want to vote, it’s an excellent reading list. I voted for The Windup Girl by Colorado writer Paolo Bacigalupi. What’s your vote?

Yes, we’ve been in the new millennium for ten years. Can you believe it?

Happy Birthday to J.R.R. Tolkien! Without him, where would fantasy be? Of course, William Morris and Lord Dunsany came before him, and probably others I’m forgetting, but Tolkien is still the father of fantasy.  I remember discovering Bilbo and then Frodo in the early 70′s when everyone was reading them. I even read Bored of the Rings, a fun satire. What a delight that Peter Jackson made his films. Again, he wasn’t the first, but his went global and created another Hobbit craze.

Now there’s a Tolkien Society and they’re planning a conference in 2012. He  was a brilliant linguist as well. He didn’t fancy people speaking elvish, but then we don’t always get all our wishes granted.

My favorite Tolkien quote changes according to what’s going on in my own life. Today I’m favoring Aragorn’s speech at the Black Gate:  “I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me. A day may come when the courage of Men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship, but it is not this day.”

To those who still question the literary value of fantasy, I can only offer another quote from Tolkien:  “Some who have read the book, or at any rate have reviewed it, have found it boring, absurd, or contemptible; and I have no cause to complain, since I have similar opinions of their works, or of the kinds of writing that they evidently prefer.”