Moningers Fall and other stories

Welcome to Moningers Fall

When the stories from Moningers Fall were first written, Steve called himself an itinerant engineer. He was a man who dreamed of becoming a full-time writer, of dabbling in paint and creating art—a man with more ideas than hours and, seemingly, his whole life ahead of him.

Unfortunately, like too many of us, he put off starting, doing, and finishing the things he loved most. He didn’t get the chance to complete many of these narratives himself.

Following Steve’s diagnosis of Primary Progressive Aphasia, I gathered these stories from Moningers Fall and attempted to sew them together into a kind of “crazy quilt” storybook. I am thrilled to share them with you.

I owe a debt of gratitude to several people who helped me find the stitches: To Robin Rector Krupp, for sharing her quilting terminology and the “crazy quilt” stories of her own family history. To Christy Lynch, for her keen eye in catching il pnconsistencies. To my sister Anne Holmberg (aka Anne Avery) who has always championed our writing efforts, even when the process drove her—and us—a little crazy. And a special thanks to my fellow writers in the Tuesday Co-Writing and the Saturday Write Time groups for always cheering me on.

I also want to thank author David Kessler, whose book The Needs of the Dying provided both Steve and me with something we desperately needed: hope. As Kessler writes:

Hope is a journey, not a destination; its value lies in the exploration. Hope is the way we live life, and the journey of hope should last until we end.

I know you haven’t had the benefit of the years of conversations I shared with Steve, but I hope his words spark an idea for your own creative life. Steve started a blog years ago called the Voice in my Head. Because I love that voice—whether it was in his head or on the page—I have kept the site active for those who wish to hear more from him.

The Seedlings

I included more stories and snippets that are outliers—the beautiful fragments that didn’t quite fit into the main quilt. Two belong to the world of Moningers Fall, while others are the seeds of book ideas that never reached the final page.

I share them in Welcome to Moningers Fall and other Stories because even an unfinished idea has power. If something in those pages spark an image or a question for your own writing or creative life, grab it and run.

Playing in the Sand

Putting this collection together has been a journey of finding light in the mist. Primary Progressive Aphasia is a thief, but it cannot steal the heart of these stories.

If there is one thing I hope you take away from The Fall, it is this: Don’t wait for the “perfect” time to write your story, paint your canvas, or piece together your own “crazy quilt” idea. Find something you are passionate about—or even just enticed by—and go for it. Find a new sandbox to play in. Uncover a forgotten pastime you once loved.

If you enjoy doing it—if it brings color, sound, or connection to your life—do it. Do it now. Don’t wait for more time or more money, and don’t let anyone, especially your inner critic, tell you it isn’t good enough.

Believe me, my own inner critic still tries to slow me down. However, I have become a firm believer that if you enjoy something but can’t do it “perfectly,” you should do it “half-assed”[1] and do more of it. Thumbing your nose at expectations is the best way to keep the magic alive.

Keep playing in the sand.

 — Steven L. Parker from the blog “comfort and joy” (2012) “My wish for all of you is that you might in the coming weeks choose to notice the simple things that bring you joy. And I wish that—like me—you might find some comfort in that joy.”

[1]  A Note on Being "Half-Assed": I have a dear friend who challenges me on this term; to her, it carries a negative weight. I, however, revel in it. To me, it conjures a visual of thumbing my nose at the "shoulds" of the world—mostly my own expectations—and simply choosing to create anyway.