L. Nahay's Blog, page 5
December 13, 2013
Pour
Let me write
Free my mind and let me dream
clear thoughts of what my story should bring
Images to words to images again
soul to mind to pen in my hand
words in heart to paper before me
help me write so others may see
and hear and feel what I
put on the page
to get them to cry, to laugh, even to rage
This book I wish to open and close
release my words, let them pour out in droves.
I wrote this back in 2007. Thought I'd share a glimpse into a writer's heart and soul as a pre-release treat.
Free my mind and let me dream
clear thoughts of what my story should bring
Images to words to images again
soul to mind to pen in my hand
words in heart to paper before me
help me write so others may see
and hear and feel what I
put on the page
to get them to cry, to laugh, even to rage
This book I wish to open and close
release my words, let them pour out in droves.
I wrote this back in 2007. Thought I'd share a glimpse into a writer's heart and soul as a pre-release treat.
Published on December 13, 2013 20:54
November 14, 2013
Book Cover!

This story has followed me for my entire adult life, and I'm so eager to finally share it.
A couple more weeks!
Published on November 14, 2013 17:08
October 24, 2013
Ravery's Daughters
Red Moonglow on Snow is the first book of my new series, Ravery's Daughters. The running theme binding the books together is the bond between mothers and daughters- how they are made, and how they are broken. There is more than one way to become a mother, and that was something that had to be in there. I wanted to balance fostering and adopting and biological birth off the other, to show the beauty of each.
The series is also about the past, and how events we try to forget have a way of bleeding through the generations, altering the course of everyone's lives, until those things are acknowledged and put to rest.
Ravery is an origin. It's the first, last, and only city on the Western part (the 'wrong' part) of Home. Once purely only hills, stone by stone a city was built. This is the city where my protagonist's mother was born, the place she has tried to escape from her whole life. So much so that she denies that she is human. When Lira is brought to Ravery's ruins, she tries to do the same: to fight the truth that a place such as Ravery is where they are from.
I watched this PBS documentary several, several years ago that was heartwrenching and tragic. An American woman- adopted from Vietnam as a child- now a wife and mother, travels back to her birth country to find her origins and her birth family. She was so staunchly clingy to her suburban, American ('white?') life, that Vietnam was an extreme shock for her. It was horrible to watch. She took it all so hard. The culture shock, the poverty, the way of life, the 'non-white'. Was she given nothing of her original culture growing up? She barely looked of Asian descent. I got a sense that it was something she tried very hard to hide. I just felt like the whole experience could have been easier for her, and Iwondered why it wasn't, why she was so afraid of being from there. She met her birth mother, and uncles and I believe siblings. But never once was she settled, or happy. She seemed to constantly search for a way out. Culturally, the children (adult) in Vietnam are responsible for supporting the parents. So when the uncles approached her with this (not wisely, but again, cultural differences) it insulted her so much that she ran shaking and crying and left right then. Again, it was heartbreaking to watch. Heartbreaking to watch the mother lose her all over again. I would love to hear that her view has since changed, that she learned that origins don't necessary threaten your life as it currently stands, or your values, or your complete sense of self. But I've never been in her shoes, so my opinion probably doesn't amount to much in the way of value.
At the time I saw that documentary, I'd already had Lira's experiences set, and it helped me delve deeper into the psychology of the very non-joyful reunion and visit to a foreign birthcountry. After seeing it, I understood the visceral fear Lira has of Ravery. It solidified my theory that life repeats until someone fixes what's wrong. While her fear and loathing are justified, her inability to accept it will cause problems for her, and her missing daughter (who yes, does get her own book).
The series is also about the past, and how events we try to forget have a way of bleeding through the generations, altering the course of everyone's lives, until those things are acknowledged and put to rest.
Ravery is an origin. It's the first, last, and only city on the Western part (the 'wrong' part) of Home. Once purely only hills, stone by stone a city was built. This is the city where my protagonist's mother was born, the place she has tried to escape from her whole life. So much so that she denies that she is human. When Lira is brought to Ravery's ruins, she tries to do the same: to fight the truth that a place such as Ravery is where they are from.
I watched this PBS documentary several, several years ago that was heartwrenching and tragic. An American woman- adopted from Vietnam as a child- now a wife and mother, travels back to her birth country to find her origins and her birth family. She was so staunchly clingy to her suburban, American ('white?') life, that Vietnam was an extreme shock for her. It was horrible to watch. She took it all so hard. The culture shock, the poverty, the way of life, the 'non-white'. Was she given nothing of her original culture growing up? She barely looked of Asian descent. I got a sense that it was something she tried very hard to hide. I just felt like the whole experience could have been easier for her, and Iwondered why it wasn't, why she was so afraid of being from there. She met her birth mother, and uncles and I believe siblings. But never once was she settled, or happy. She seemed to constantly search for a way out. Culturally, the children (adult) in Vietnam are responsible for supporting the parents. So when the uncles approached her with this (not wisely, but again, cultural differences) it insulted her so much that she ran shaking and crying and left right then. Again, it was heartbreaking to watch. Heartbreaking to watch the mother lose her all over again. I would love to hear that her view has since changed, that she learned that origins don't necessary threaten your life as it currently stands, or your values, or your complete sense of self. But I've never been in her shoes, so my opinion probably doesn't amount to much in the way of value.
At the time I saw that documentary, I'd already had Lira's experiences set, and it helped me delve deeper into the psychology of the very non-joyful reunion and visit to a foreign birthcountry. After seeing it, I understood the visceral fear Lira has of Ravery. It solidified my theory that life repeats until someone fixes what's wrong. While her fear and loathing are justified, her inability to accept it will cause problems for her, and her missing daughter (who yes, does get her own book).
Published on October 24, 2013 20:39
September 30, 2013
HOME IS WHERE
From the beginning, I wanted
Red Moonglow On Snow
names to be fairly bland as Lira's, Elaar's, and Talyn's stories are large and weighty enough. But calling their country, their world, nothing but Home is far from being a simple, absense-of- creativity pick. That one word is pretty powerful, and elicits strong emotions in all of us: ones of dread and nightmares, or ones of comfort, stability, and love. Some of us never quite find where our true home is, or what it is. As Lira is asked: Is it a specific place, or is it where those we love most reside?
I've often wondered: What would it be like if I traveled to one of my ancestral countries? Would I know it in some inherant way, have an innate pull, a sense of belonging? I've felt rootless my whole life. I've lived in three states and 13 houses since turning 17. And I'm house hunting again. Only one state, and one region, gave me the feeling I've searched for, and it's not where I currently reside.
When I was 7, my family ended up buying a camper in a little vacation resort in Wisconsin. Those weekends we spent there were home for me. Not the camper, but the earth, the lake, the trees. I knew all the backwards ways to get places and rarely wore my shoes. It was my goal to move there as an adult, but school took me way west instead.
At 23, I returned just outside the area of that camper, and that feeling- Home- poured right back into me and filled me up. I'd pack the baby in the car and drive all the back country farm roads just to do it, wandered the rivers and lake without shoes once again, and just felt like I was where I needed to be. And then it was decided to return west, which was devasting. No matter what I tried, I have never felt tied to the places or houses I've lived in since.
I'm back in my home town, a two hour drive from that area, and I avoid going there because of the emotional upheaval I know it'll cause. But a friend from long ago found me, and turns out she lives fairly close to my sense of home. I drove out to see her, and went back into my former city for dinner. The emotional upheaval I feared turned out to be true; I couldn't control it or reason away the grief and turmoil I felt prior to leaving. I sat in the restaraunt with my sunglasses on and cried while I ate. It's something about that Wisconsin soil.
A cousin of my mom's recently investigated our family tree. We went through the many pages and were completely shocked that before moving to our city, that side of the family had lived in that very random Wisconsin town we discovered on a random, fluke invite. We never knew.
Loonngg story short, I did have some innate sense of home tied to a place my family had once been from, which I discovered long after cursing my protagonist with the same sense of disconnect.
Lira grew up in Chi-ca-go knowing she didn't belong there, and it fractured her sense of self and any feeling of belonging she came close to achieving. But when she is brought to Home, she is brought home, which allows her to heal from all her other traumas. There is no other name their country, their world, could be called. It is strong and powerful, comforting and healing, and filled with love that doesn't need walls and a roof to hold onto it.
How about you: is your definition of home a particular place, or is it solely where the people you love reside?
I've often wondered: What would it be like if I traveled to one of my ancestral countries? Would I know it in some inherant way, have an innate pull, a sense of belonging? I've felt rootless my whole life. I've lived in three states and 13 houses since turning 17. And I'm house hunting again. Only one state, and one region, gave me the feeling I've searched for, and it's not where I currently reside.
When I was 7, my family ended up buying a camper in a little vacation resort in Wisconsin. Those weekends we spent there were home for me. Not the camper, but the earth, the lake, the trees. I knew all the backwards ways to get places and rarely wore my shoes. It was my goal to move there as an adult, but school took me way west instead.
At 23, I returned just outside the area of that camper, and that feeling- Home- poured right back into me and filled me up. I'd pack the baby in the car and drive all the back country farm roads just to do it, wandered the rivers and lake without shoes once again, and just felt like I was where I needed to be. And then it was decided to return west, which was devasting. No matter what I tried, I have never felt tied to the places or houses I've lived in since.
I'm back in my home town, a two hour drive from that area, and I avoid going there because of the emotional upheaval I know it'll cause. But a friend from long ago found me, and turns out she lives fairly close to my sense of home. I drove out to see her, and went back into my former city for dinner. The emotional upheaval I feared turned out to be true; I couldn't control it or reason away the grief and turmoil I felt prior to leaving. I sat in the restaraunt with my sunglasses on and cried while I ate. It's something about that Wisconsin soil.
A cousin of my mom's recently investigated our family tree. We went through the many pages and were completely shocked that before moving to our city, that side of the family had lived in that very random Wisconsin town we discovered on a random, fluke invite. We never knew.
Loonngg story short, I did have some innate sense of home tied to a place my family had once been from, which I discovered long after cursing my protagonist with the same sense of disconnect.
Lira grew up in Chi-ca-go knowing she didn't belong there, and it fractured her sense of self and any feeling of belonging she came close to achieving. But when she is brought to Home, she is brought home, which allows her to heal from all her other traumas. There is no other name their country, their world, could be called. It is strong and powerful, comforting and healing, and filled with love that doesn't need walls and a roof to hold onto it.
How about you: is your definition of home a particular place, or is it solely where the people you love reside?
Published on September 30, 2013 18:44