Oh my. I feel like I’m at the crest of a massive roller coaster, having chugged my way up and up and up, finally reaching the top of the curve, and looking down at a track so steep that I can’t even see it beneath my feet. All I know is it’s going to go down, very, very fast.
That’s what it feels like today, as if I’m at the beginning of an exhilarating and scary ride, the first day of the next and last phase of the making of The Education of Will. One might think that once you’ve “finished” a book you’re done, but in actuality your work just changes. If you are lucky enough to have your book picked up by a major publisher, there are great expectations on you to polish and promote your book. I’m done with the polishing (several edits even after the “pre-pub” version came out, sent to book sellers), done with working on the text for back cover and inside flap (as hard to write an in entire book sometimes), have created a website just for the book, updated my regular website to be mobile responsive, etc. etc. All of this, I should add, with a village of help from many talented and wonderful people, for whom I am eternally grateful.
Now it’s time to get on Twitter (argh, heaven help me), study and implement the publisher’s guide to an author’s responsibilities, write my talks, finalize arrangements for the tour. Etc. As I used to chant before I walked up onto a stage to give a speech (writes the woman who was so shy that in her early twenties she could barely make eye contact with strangers): “I’m not nervous, I’m excited.”
And so, as the first act of the last phase of the memoir’s launch, here’s an excerpt from the book itself. I’ll take the risk here to admit it’s one of my favorite passages. It’s not actually about me or Willie; but of course, it is:
Every summer, barn swallows chitter just a few feet away from my study, skimming the air currents, landing precariously on a rope we strung up on the porch for the attachment of holiday lights. When Willie and I go outside, the birds swoosh away and begin swooping over the grass to snatch up more insects. Last spring a swallow nested in the garage, her nest built of mud and fiber on top of a light fixture. It was a foolish choice, because each day I’d leave the farm and close the garage door, keeping the parents either shut out or trapped inside while I was gone. I’d drive back to the house, press the automatic door opener, and the adults would swoop in or out, squawking in what sounded like avian anger, desperate to get to the nest or out to feed. After a few days, I left the garage door open, unwilling to witness the slow death of a poorly placed clutch of baby birds.
Each day the chirps of the babies got louder, and soon they were so big their bodies leaked over the edges of the nest, like a blousy woman overflowing her bra. They began flapping their wings and leaning precariously into the air. I worried they would fall before their wings were strong enough to hold them. I kept the cat inside, and while she paced and yowled behind the door, I talked to the birds: “Hurry up, it’s time to move on.”
And then one day when Willie and I left the house on our morning walk, all five baby birds were straining so far out of the nest that I knew their first flight was inevitable. One at a time, they dived out and flapped in sloppy circles all around us, their movements uncoordinated and seemingly inadequate to keep them aloft. At the last minute, as they descended closer and closer to the ground, their wings took hold, and they managed to stay airborne. They fluttered for a few more seconds, seemingly at the edge of disaster, and then slalomed out of the garage and crash-landed into a nearby spruce tree. But they took off again, and gradually, flap by flap, the movements of their wings became more coordinated. Their paths through the air became cleaner, more purposeful.
They began to dip and turn, faster and faster, until within just a few minutes I was surrounded by five expert flyers, zooming right and buzzing left, streaking toward my face and banking away at the last minute, so close I could see their eyes shine. Willie and I stood together, still and silent, smack in the middle of the most amazing air show on earth, performed by five miniature pilots with the right stuff. As they swooped and soared around us, they appeared to be overwhelmed with the beauty and power they had inside themselves all along—they just had to take the risk to find it.
And here they are, a photo of the actual barn swallows that I wrote about above, a good week before they grew fat and strong and couldn’t resist the pull to fulfill their destiny.
MEANWHILE, back on the farm: We had a lovely quiet week of cooking, eating and laughing with friends, going to movies (Moonlight, La La Land, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them), compulsive cleaning out of papers and cabinets, long walks, and even some time working sheep with Willie and Maggie. It’s too icy around the barn and on the farm road that leads up the hill, but if the sheep are already up in the high pastures it’s safe to work.
I wanted to include a photo of Willie working the sheep, but he was gimpy this morning so he needs to rest. Maggie and I worked the sheep just now, but I was so focused on our work together that I forgot to take any pictures. Here’s the flock though, after I said “That’ll Do” to Maggie, and we let the sheep move into the woods. Too icy there to work, so I let well enough alone and took their portrait. That’s Lady Baa Baa in the front on the left. Yeah, they’re fat. I’m sorry.
Chris from Boise says
Breathtaking! Simply breathtaking! Can’t wait to read the whole book!
Vicki in Michigan says
What a gorgeous passage! I had no idea their expertise could show up so quickly. What an amazing experience.
Thank you for sharing with us.
Trisha says
Awww, thanks Chris and Vicki!
Caroline McKinney says
Had to read it to my husband—who was as impressed as I was. Your words fly
Chris Wells says
Ok! I am hooked. The Education of Will is my next read!
After years of not allowing the barn swallows to nest on my front porch I gave in as their numbers began to decline due to the drought in West Texas. I have the cutest couple that seems to return every year now and we get to watch it all! My little guys get to fly from the nest to the fan blades on the porch ceiling fan, before they head out into the great wide world. And they come back to the porch to rest. I love to watch them and the little mess they make under the nest is small in comparison to the joy they bring to Jim and I and my mom as we sit on the porch.
They do put on the most amazing air show!
That excerpt certainly put a smile on my face!
Joanne Watson says
I assume that there is a pearl of wisdom contained in this passage.
You’ve hooked me.
Look forward to reading your new book!
Katie Traxel says
Love the except but am going immediately to look up the meat pie recipe! Thanks.
Ann Sheets says
Whet my appetite for the book’s arrival on Feb. 21 (I hope). Who has not had to leave their garage door open for the birds who chose a nesting site inside. I had wrens raise their young in my hiking boot several springs ago.
P.S. Loved this line: …”their bodies leaked over the edges of the nest, like a blousy woman overflowing her bra.”
mhll53 says
Beautiful and sensitive. Thank you for all the work of writing about your life with dogs.
Angela Meier says
Gave me chills! What wonder!
Nic1 says
Oh Trisha! I have already started crying reading the extracts……I have a feeling this book will touch a deep chord in a lot of people and will become an instant classic.
I absolutely love the metaphor of a bird taking flight. Isn’t that what we are all trying to do? To fly and soar in our lives with our talents and creativity. To express ourselves without oppression and clipped wings.
My favourite music artist had this exact metaphor in her live shows in 2014. It was a journey from darkness through to light. From almost drowning in life and pain to fighting for life then swimming and ultimately sprouting wings and literally taking flight and soaring. It was absolutely astonishing to witness because it resonated so deeply.
Christina Hargrove says
I don’t go on roller coasters very often, because I really don’t like that feeling. But we blog readers know that you are not going to fall, you are going to fly. I can’t wait!
Jann Becker says
When our cardinals are teaching their young’uns to eat from the feeder we imagine, “How hard can this be? Get your own damn seed!” That little guy with his mouth open seems to think you’ve brought a snack!
Gayla says
Oh… Trisha…
Wanda says
Patricia, not only do you do wonderful things for dogs and their people, you are a WRITER! I taught English in a high school for 35 years, so I know what I am talking about. Can’t wait to read your book and then…..recommend it to everyone! I’m excited.
Trisha says
To Wanda: Thank you so much for the comment about the writing. I cherish good writing, and one of my goals with this book was to raise my game as a writer. I’m still not close to where I want to be, and can’t imagine writing a book without good editors, but I am happy with some of the passages in my new book.
HFR says
This excerpt does what all excerpts should do: leaves you hungry for more. What a lovely passage and a thrilling image. I can’t help but think how wonderful it must feel to take flight for the first time.
This reminds me of when my brother’s security camera on his house was pointed right at an Oriole’s nest on the roof of the porch. So, of course, he watched the nest for days and weeks, watched the eggs hatch and then watched them grow as the mom fed them regularly. One day he looked at the view from the camera and all the babies were gone. So he rewound the tape and sure enough there was a raven (or crow?) perched on the side of the nest and t slurped down each baby bird one-by-one. It was nature at its cruelest and purest at the same time. The most heartbreaking part was watching the mom come back to the nest, looking confused and distraught and then flying off never to be seen again. Talk about life lessons.
Your book is pre-ordered and I’m anxiously awaiting it’s arrival. If it’s anything like your excerpt, it will be wonderful!
Kat says
I love words. To me the perfect book is one where the story is interesting and engaging and the writing is magnificent. I often say I’ll take a well written book with a boring story over the most compelling story written badly. The excerpt tells me I can look forward to one of those perfect books and I can hardly wait.
I was especially struck by the image of you and Willie watching the airshow together. I could do that with Ranger but Finna would be doing her best to snap the fledglings out of the air. I often feel that Ranger appreciates beauty and wonder in a way similar to my own. He’s the one that sometimes stops in front of a magnificent view and just looks at it. How much of that is him simply knowing what I’m going to do as soon as I see it and anticipating me and how much is his own interest I won’t pretend to even guess. I do know that many times I’ve been ready to move on before he is.
Gayla says
Here in the islands, at certain times of year, there’s a sea bird called a Newell Shearwater whose fledglings get disoriented by bright lights. The fledglings are often found at the base of street lights and such; and kind souls pick them up and put them in cages located at the fire stations. Once they have adequately recovered, volunteers take them to elevated platforms overlooking the ocean. The platforms are a sort of land based ‘walk the plank’ set-up…
They totter out to the end of the plank and eventually step off, flapping like crazy and losing altitude by the second! The blue Pacific looks like a giant, hungry mouth and you hold your breath while you think, “Oh no! He’s not going to make it! He’s not going to make it” And at what seems like the last possible second before disaster, they get the air solidly beneath them and soar over the wave tops. I’ve never been at a release when that moment isn’t met with a collective shout of relief mixed with joy from the humans in attendance. It’s a beautiful thing.
Rapheal says
McConnel – PLEASE HELP.
I know this is a long shot but, I found one of your articles a minute ago about your BC Willie who obsessed over your cat. I cant find the next article on whether or not the “sit” method worked so I was just wondering if you could give me any advice. Any time the cat is seen or heard my 11 month old pup foes straight into obsessive stalk mode. I feel like I’ve tried everything and if I can’t fix the behavior in a month then I have to give my beautiful Collie/Kelpie cross away. I really love her and don’t want that as any dog owner would. Any help at all would be greatly appreciated by both Kya and I. Thanks if you help and even if you don’t have a great day!
– Raph (Email is raphrrt@gmail.com
Margaret. McLaughlin says
Preordering today. Can’t wait to read it all.
Did the proximity of the “birds and the pie have the numbers “four” and “twenty” playing in anyone else’s , or is it just me?
Mireille says
Lovely Trisha, really looking forward to reading your book! Good luck with all the work coming…
Noelle says
You left the garage door open for the birds 🙂
<3 <3 <3
Diane says
Had my book on order for some time….now I know I need to read this. Inspiring.
Jeez…your food looks so delicious.