I was born in the South-West Territory in 1878 and became motherless in Boulder only a few years later. After my dad died in a mine explosion, I left Idaho and moved to New York. I guess I'm not that interested in the sunlight because I went from blasting for silver to drilling a subway. My story is being told by an antiques dealer who saw my photograph. Although he lives in an Los Angeles teaming with horseless carriages and things called computers, he seems to be more interested in my life than in keeping up with his own world.
For more Where Are You? answers, visit Raidergirl3 at An Adventure in Reading.
MizB at Should Be Reading hosts Teaser Tuesdays. Here's how it works: Grab your current read; let the book fall open to a random page; and share 2 “teaser” sentences from that page. For more teasers, click on through toMizB's blog.
I admit that although our private memories (like works of fiction) may endure without the agreement of anything outside themselves, at the moment when we try to make our recollections into stories, the world begins to matter. By weaving memories into a sequence, they also become joined inextricably with time and history (which is to say, with the memories of everyone else). (pp. 30-31)—From The Kingdom of Ohio by Matthew Flaming (Source: Review, see review policy)
The Kingdom of Ohio at Amazon
These 3 links lead to affiliate programs.