Intending to publish We Killed Ichabod, this August using FASTPENCIL, I thought I would get to work on a less complex, more free flowing second book, Iona, Isle of My Heart, at the same time. So now, when my head is not up in the hollow, my heat is on Iona. We Killed Ichabod is very much a fall book so it really must be out by pumpkin season. As for Iona, I always left in August with the bittersweet feeling of longing for home and wanting to stay.
Most days, weather permitting, I walk up through Sleepy Hollow. Iona is another story. My pilgrimages to this Holy Island ended in 2008 when my child went to sleepaway camp, and I went to Iona alone. Even with that sky blending into the earth, that “thin place,” as George Macleod said, walking the crunchy sands, or enjoying the Scottish mist on the ferry, my thoughts were on my boy. For a while the strife of parenthood overcame travel plans, but even went he went off to college, my desire to stay home became the dominant force. It is wonderful now to look back in earnest to capture the amazement I felt back then.