How I came to write Sabrina's Window

Sabrina's Window is still a mystery to me, even though I wrote it.

I wrote the first few pages years ago, set them aside, and forgot about them. I can't recall how I came across them again, but I picked up the story where I had left off.

I never knew where I was going with it, but scenes came to me one by one in random order. Often I'd wake up early in the morning with a bit of dialogue in my head. I'd play the lines over and over again because I didn't want to get out of bed and I didn't want to forget. Then more lines would come and I'd have to get up and write them down.

Later I decided the story was taking place in Taos, New Mexico, because I've always liked it there. I surrounded myself with postcards, brochures and magazines that my wife and I had collected on our trips there. And I had an evocative water color by Greg Moon, "La Loma II," hanging in the studio where I write.

My soundtrack was The Wheel, a deeply moving album by Rosanne Cash.

At first I thought I was writing a short story, but it just kept getting longer. It took me about a year to write the first draft, and two more years to flesh the whole thing out.

I have always been fascinated by the conflicts that come up between the sexes. The mystery of attraction. Gender roles. Power struggles. Trying to find the right balance. Those are the things I tend to come back to again and again in my writing.

Those are the obsessions I explore through Sabrina's Window.

Wrecking Ball

Too often we seem to confuse patriotism with a willingness to wage war.

In his new album, Wrecking Ball, Bruce Springsteen shares a more nuanced vision.

Consider the first track, "We Take Care of Our Own." Fierce national pride is evident in the chorus, "Wherever this flag is flown/We take care of our own." Yet the rest of the song and the album add up to a stinging indictment of how far we are from that ideal.

Remember "Born in the U.S.A."? This one is a lot like that. Pride and bitterness in equal measures.

Make no mistake, the songs on Wrecking Ball have a lot of fight in them. A lot of fight and a lot of longing for what our country could be.

It's a sad and angry album for a sad and angry time.

Unlikely Friends

I really like this part:

"Through all this emotional upheaval, Sabrina and Joshua become unlikely yet quite good friends. As you read, you become entangled in their lives, cringing when they miss an opportunity or make a bad emotional decision. You also find yourself—wrongly, guiltily, I know, but all the same—wanting these two to get together. They get each other in ways that no one else does. What if they were different ages? Would she wait for him?"
 — Laura Hamlett, Playback

Music to My Ears

"Al Riske has packed so much emotional punch in this 217-page slice-of-life novel [Sabrina's Window] that I'm still thinking about the people that inhabit the pages ... Reading it was much like hearing a piece of music. I know I'll read it again, and re-discover the nuances of something beautiful."
 — Katherine Adams, Goodreads

Thanks, Katherine!

First review of Sabrina's Window

Skipping to the part I like best ...

"Sabrina's Window is a pure pleasure to read. Al Riske does an excellent job of creating colorful, realistic characters. The story is brought to life while the author blends the story into the beautiful Taos scenery. Doing so gives the novel a very unique flavor and I highly recommend it."
 — Paige Lovitt, in the Seattle Post-Intelligencer

You can read the full review here. It's quite insightful, actually.

Antiphony

Antiphony is, in many ways, an awe-inspiring novel. It was, I think, written in awe. Awe of science and reason. Awe of intuition and faith. Awe of the one and the many, unity and diversity. 

Writer Chris Katsaropoulos has a way of delving deeply into what seem like small moments–the whole novel takes place in just three or four days–and capturing all their nuances and vibrating tension.

Throughout Antiphony, the protagonist (a physicist researching string theory) experiences dreams and visions that fill pages the way a flash flood fills a ravine–a torrent of words flowing into the space between the margins and pressing onward to the next page and the next.

It makes me wonder how he did it.

Christmas, remembered

This is me and my big brother, Harry, with our mom behind us and our sisters all around.

This is how he once was and always wanted to be.

In the years since Harry's death I've come to realize just how hard he tried to keep alive the boy inside.

He was a Scout Master and  skateboard maestro to the end.

God hug you, my brother. I'm grateful for everything you taught me.

(The stuffed animals are from our bigger brother, Rudi, who's probably the one taking the picture. I'm grateful to you, too, Rudi, for a Christmas to remember and so much more.)