I'm Homesick -- That's Why

Why would I set my all my contemporary stories in Rhode Island? you many ask. The answer is two-fold--

For years, I've heard the phrase -- Write about what you know. Well, I know Rhode Island.

The second reason -- I'm homesick. Wicked homesick.

I miss my little state with such a ferocity I sometimes pull up Google maps and look around. I feel like an ex-Patriot living in a foreign country. And somewhere out there, I know there are other Rhodies who feel the same way. I guess that's why I reconfigured this blog. Even if people don't read my books, they might stop here as a way to reconnect with the place they miss.

The Big Blue Bug

Not every one who moves from their origin of birth gets homesick. Some people (like my mother) have no ties. They're free as a bird and flit from one place to another. Life is an adventure for them. And hey, well, if that's your thing, go for it.

Me, on the other hand, I'm a Taurus and we like to keep our feet firmly planted in one place. For me that means home. I always thought home would be Rhode Island, but when my parents decided to move to North Carolina, I had to go with them. (Yes, I HAD to go with them.)

the ice cream store was next door

Part of why I like writing about Rhode Island is the nostalgia. Because Rhode Island is so compact, when something isn't working, or antiquated, they tear it down and build something new.

Do you remember Peerless in Pawtucket?
Or the original Del's Lemonade on the Cumberland Lincoln line?
The drive-in? In Lincoln and Smithfield?
The little ice cream store on Front Street in Lincoln before you got to Lincoln Woods?
B.A. Dario's horse farm?

Crescent Park Carousel

The original Lincoln Downs?
Jolly Cholly's? Rocky Point? Crescent Park?
Climbing to the top of the Fire Tower in North Kingstown?
The old Jamestown Bridge?
Route 6 before the big box stores took over?
Downtown Providence before Waterfire?
The highway system before 295?
Johnson & Wales before it became famous?
Lido and Olivo's beach?
The Fo'c'sle?

on 146 near the drive in

Then, there are those places that I hope and pray will never be transformed.

Trinity Repertory Theater.
George's in Point Judith.
Aunt Carrie's.
Federal Hill.
Bristol.
McCoy Stadium (sadly, I've heard that's on its way out.)
The clock tower in Jenks Park.
Newport Creamery.
Wiener Genie.

Federal Hill

Theater-By-The-Sea.
The Carousel in East Providence.

There are so many places I've forgotten it's hard to think about sometimes. But then, like a wave hitting the shore, memories crash into me. I want to say to somebody, "Hey, do you remember that?"

Sadly, there's no one here to do that with.

Waterfire

Tell me -- What do you remember from your hometown that isn't there anymore?

Robynne Rand (c) 2015

The Rhode Island Writer

Hey now. It's been a helluva long time since I've been here last.

I've made a few changes to this blog, designating myself the Rhode Island Writer. People say, "write about what you know". I know the state of Rhode Island pretty well. I lived there for 45 years. I miss it terribly and want to move back (now residing in the Foothills of the Piedmont, NC) but my parents are here and old now, so...

As a writer/author, I have to pick and choose what to spend my time on. For the last few years, I've pushed to get my Regency series finished (under Anne Gallagher). And now that it is, I want to focus my attention on contemporary writing.

Providence

I have several books in progress -- what author doesn't -- and I'm not feeling the love for romance these days, so I developed a new series, in the detective genre, set in the fictional town of Nannaquonset, Rhode Island. For those of you who live there, or know the state, I'll let you in on the secret -- it's really Narragansett. (Where Monster and I spent our vacation last summer.)

I think it's pretty good, but won't really know until I get it back from a couple of beta readers. Actually, I don't care if they like it. I do and for me, that's all that counts.

Bristol harbor

Writing about my place of origin makes me less lonely. There's something about knowing the beach is only 40 minutes away. That seagulls are everywhere, even in the city. That fog can roll in at any time. I've gotten to the point where I'll watch just about anything on television just to hear that familiar accent. I immerse myself in Google maps and hit "street view" just so I can be there.

Sad, isn't it. But hey, we all have to do what we need to survive. And right now, that's all I'm doing.
Surviving. You can't know how I feel unless you've been separated from something you love. I miss Rhode Island. I miss the beach. I miss doughboys and coffee milk, chowda' and clam cakes, the smell of low tide in July, the Bristol Parade, a stroll on Thames Street in Newport, Awful Awfuls, whole belly fried clams, lighthouses, the Hurricane Barrier, the Paw Sox, Federal Hill, hell, I even miss driving on 95. (Okay, maybe not that since they put in the I-way, but I miss the familiar streets I used to drive to get around having to drive on 95.)

Narragansett docks

I miss my family -- the cousins, aunts and uncles, the Christmas parties, summer parties, reunions, weddings, funerals. I miss everyone and everything I used to know.

So, here I am. Writing about the people and places that I miss.

I'm going to try and post here on Thursdays from now on. We'll see how it goes. As a writer/author, we're told we need a "brand". Well, I'm the Rhode Island Writer now. I guess that will be my brand.
Hope you'll stop by.

Robynne Rand (c) 2015