Harvard Square Edition’s autumn arrival: Voice from the Planet

Edited by Charles Degelman

May 1, 2010

Award-winning and new authors from Congo to Hollywood join forces in Harvard Square Editions’ second volume of Living Fiction, and they are donating the net proceeds from the sale of this book to the Nobel Prize-winning charity Doctors Without Borders/Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF).

Most anthologies are limited by their themes to a particular town or country, reinforcing entrenched literary nationalism whereby institutionalized literati only appreciate their own. Not Voice from the Planet. This collection of extraordinary voices is unlimited. It will transport you on a globe-trotting adventure from the trauma of an African earthquake to a lush glimpse of love in the jungles of Peru.

Break through to war-torn Congo, to American rebellion of the 1960s, to fire dancing in the mountains of Bulgaria, to high finance on 9/11. You’ll find the unexpected wit and intelligence enthralling.

The second in a series of anthologies edited by Harvard alumni, this Voice from the Planet anthology of Living Fiction is generative. It opens a forum where readers and Planet authors can engage in cyber-literary dialogue via the Internet. Readers can take part in the dialogue by emailing the authors and chatting on the web at www.harvardsquareeditions.org.

Voice from the Planet will be available in the Fall of 2010. In the meantime, please visit the Harvard Square Editions website for more details.

There is not one week that passes without thoughts of my father and what he has taught me by his example. In fact, I wonder if one day ever goes by without a thought of him.

The death of a parent is a rite of adulthood which, painful as it is, brings many gifts of understanding that our parent has left behind for us to find.

In my father’s lifetime, it was difficult for me not to follow in his footsteps and seek his approval. Since his passing, I’ve surprisingly come into my own, making choices that suit me and taking chances to do what I love. I’m publishing my first short story this year and I’m at work on a novel to be completed this year as well.

I used to feel that if my father was my biggest critic, it was to push me to succeed in the corporate world where he made his mark. I’ve since realized that my father simply believed in me. Today, I know he would be proud because I know who I am, and what I am here to do.

The perfect name for my Tina!

First, I reminisced with favorite images of the past year: the unique way Tina sits, like a human being – just as she did when I first saw her at 11 weeks old…

our refreshing walks in the spring…

her tongue, a mile long, on our summer walks…

the friends she made in the neighborhood: Logan…

Akio…

hanging out at home with Chibi…

Christmas…

delicious naps under the covers…

and even visits to the vet, where Tina always gets treats!

We reached a major milestone this year. Just as I dreamed of a year ago and knew we would, Tina and I enjoyed plenty of off-leash time. I felt her joy when she ran around in big circles and then back toward me.

Today was a very special day. As we walked to the architects’ firm where I work in the afternoon – while Tina patiently waits and naps – we made a stop in Madison Square Park where Tina watched the squirrels.

On our way down Park Avenue South, I spotted a group of largely Asian kids gathered around a mobile food vendor. “Perfect!” I thought. “Local high-school students. They must know what’s a good place to get food. I’ll treat Tina and me to a Philly cheese steak sandwich.” (“Hold the onions, please!”)

Her belly full, Tina, who is the office’s Director of Security, took a nice nap.

Later in the afternoon, one of the firm’s principals gave Tina a good rub.

Five o’clock struck. “Can we go, Mom?” Tina sat expectantly.

“Let’s go, Tina!” I logged off the computer promptly. We walked to the dog park.

Tina had a blast.

She made friends.

“Well, hello there!”

Forty minutes later, with a look back at the Flatiron building, we left Madison Square Park and headed home.

After dinner, Tina enjoyed a new bully stick…

…and took another little nap.

Then, I brought out her birthday muffin which made her very curious.

“Happy Birthday, Tina!”

The End

One sunny day, we ran into Tina’s friend Thora (in blue boots) and another boot-wearing dog.

Tina kept finding things to burrow out deep in the snow, making me laugh.

After running, romping, and burrowing, Tina’s always hungry for the treats I bring on our walks.

Near the Pinetum, we met one-year-old Kismet the Akita, Tina’s distant cousin (Akitas and Shibas are the two indigenous Japanese dog breeds).

Someone had made faces on trees with snow.

The next two days were misty, presenting a breathtaking entrance to the park at Miner’s Gate.

The group of bears standing near the entrance looked in their element, more so than in any other weather.

On the West Side, a lone red tree stood out against a vast expanse of white landscape, prompting me to snap a shot of it as we ambled along the Bridle Path.

Down the road, Tina met four-month-old Coco Chanel the boxer, who chased Tina around while Coco’s father and I watched with amusement.

Belvedere Castle huddled in the mist, its flag proudly flapping in the wind.

Snow-laden boughs greeted and surrounded us near the exit by the Great Lawn.

Tree branches swept across the landscape like layered hair framing a face.

The path leading under the bridge to the Metropolitan Museum was frosty and dreamy. With careful steps I went…

…while Tina trotted along with assurance on the snow and ice.

The End

On the first snow day, I put a long leash on Tina so she could venture into the woods and explore.

Tina bore an uncanny resemblance to a snow fox in Yellowstone Park.

Snow kept falling as we walked and as Tina looked all around.

The streets around the Bridle Path on the West Side were eerily shrouded in white, and lamps burned in the middle of the afternoon.

Children, home from school, played in the park. People skied, made snowmen, and snapped pictures under the falling snow.

Trees assumed the air of giant plumes and arctic reefs.

Cross-country skiers forged a path around the four-point-two-mile Bridle Path.

Tina looked diminutive against the long, white expanse of road.

When we completed our loop on the East Side, adults and children were laughing and sledding downhill by the Metropolitan Museum’s Egyptian wing.

Happy and tired, Tina and I headed home from the park.

The End

…romped and lay in the snow of which she is so fond…

…and played with her new toy—which plays O Tannenbaum!—until she fell fast asleep by its side.

Happy New Year!

The End

She blends in with the leaves.

We start our long walk by the Great Lawn, resplendent in russet tones,

and wind our way back along the lake,

before heading into the Ramble where nature’s left a bold brushstroke in red.

We walk by the mayor’s house which never disappoints.

Carved pumpkins in the neighborhood rival one another in size and creativity. I see the biggest of them all.

We are ready for Halloween and so are, apparently, the ghosts—one of whom stares down at us from a brownstone window—

and skeletons…

Happy Creepy Halloween!

The End

Akio is five years old and lives in the neighborhood.

I like running into Akio and his mom. She always stops to pet Tina and, the last time, Akio recognized Tina from half a block away and raced to greet her.

One day, Tina made the acquaintance of Kitsune (meaning “fox” in Japanese).

A gentle dog, fourteen-year-old Kitsune had recently relocated to New York City from California. He and his family gave Tina some love.

Once or twice, we’ve run into Tyler on the West Side. At first, he growled at Tina for her to keep a respectful distance. In the end, he accepted her because she was so well-behaved.

The End

Two years for a total of four floors, two rooms wide. Talk about perfectionism and greed. Clearly, the new occupants had to have the best of everything at the added cost of causing a nuisance in the neighborhood for two years.

Typical, I said to myself. So typical of American greed.

I looked into one of the new brownstones through the broad bay windows and admired the minimalist interiors. The family had moved in their furniture before the end of the construction.

Ironic, I told myself. I like their style.

One recent day when the noise of the electric saw being manned across my back yard was particularly grating, I decided to pay these new neighbors a visit.

Their front door was open and I saw a woman standing in the doorway with her hand on a stroller and a man inside the room by the tightly-shut bay window.

“Hello,” I said. “I live across the yard and I was wondering when you’ll be done with the construction. I came by two weeks ago and the foreman told me less than a week. I’m a writer so this is disrupting my work.”

The woman said, with a strong French accent and with surprise, “The noise? What noise?” I noticed that through their quality windows they couldn’t hear, on the same level as and right next to the construction, any of the racket I endured on my upper floor across the yard.

She continued, “They’re polishing the terrace. After that, they’ll varnish and that won’t be loud.” The man piped in, “There’ll be more work, afterwards,” confusing me. She ignored him and I chose to ignore his comment as well. I asked them, “Do you speak French?” And sensing recognition I explained, “Je suis Parisienne.”

She continued, in French, “You know, it’ll be our turn next.” I looked surprised. “Really?” “Well,” and she motioned to the rather shabby surrounding buildings, “it’s probably a matter of time before they renovate the other properties around.” I turned to leave and said politely, “Bienvenue dans le quartier.” (Welcome to the neighborhood.)

So, the noisy neighbors whom I thought were exemplars of American greed turned out to be, at least in part, French.

We walked by Turtle Pond where the lawn was red-flagged as being off limits due to the fragility of the soggy soil in the rain.

A cat sat in the waiting room when we arrived…

…and Tina patiently waited for her turn.

Dr. F. has just the right touch!

He gave Tina a clean bill of health and a treat. We love going to the vet!

The End