Showing posts with label Travel in Italy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Travel in Italy. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Leighton Gage, a Personal Remembrance

At Bouchercon in Indianapolis in 2009, Leighton Gage moderated a panel called Murder at the Edge of the Map. The other writers on the dais included Yrsa and Stan. Since my first novel, out just a month, was set not only far away, but long ago, I was anxious to hear what other, more experienced writers had to say on the subject of stories set in exotic locations. The meeting room was packed with people.

Leighton showed the audience a bracelet he wore, made by a Brazilian Indians, that was a charm to boost one’s creativity. I remember wishing I had such a thing, but I was too shy to introduce myself to Leighton, much less ask him where I could get one. Had I been more courageous, I have no doubt he would have sent me one, if not taken his off and given it to me on the spot. That was the kind of man he was: generous, giving, helpful, encouraging. But I did not know that yet.

Several months later, out of the blue, an email from Leighton arrived in my inbox. He had searched me out to tell me that he had read City of Silver as part of his service on the Edgar Awards jury for best first novel. He had been disappointed that the book had not garnered a nomination, and he was talking it up on internet chat rooms because he knew how difficult it is to get a good book noticed. He invited me to Murder is Everywhere to do a guest post. He stayed in touch, always encouraging, open, warm, and charming.

Then, one day, we found we would both be in Italy at the same time. He came with his friend Jes to visit me in Florence. We had two days to eat good food, drink good wine, and talk writing, books, the biz, life. In those days, Leighton learned of my husband’s Alzheimer’s disease. One of the things I confessed to him was that my weekends were lonely, when I was caring for David on my own and when the love of my life could no longer be a companion. After that, on Fridays Leighton would write me an email posing a subject for discussion, usually one having to do with writing fiction. Then, through the weekend, he would keep me company in long written conversations.

In the past few days, with comments here on Murder is Everywhere and on Facebook, it has become clear how many people Leighton befriended in just such ways. It’s impossible to fathom how he had the time to do all that while being a loving husband and father AND writing such wonderful books—one every year.

The people Leighton gathered around him are themselves a warm, welcoming, affectionate bunch. They are generous and bring out the best in one another. They are different from Leighton and from each other in many ways, but not in all the virtues one would desire in a colleague and friend. He brought out in others what was wonderful in himself. It seems a magic trick, but he performed it. Then he gave us one another.

My gratitude and love and admiration are Leighton’s forever.

Annamaria Alfieri

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Crime Writer in Italy: Week Three--AH, Roma

 Words are unnecessary to tell the glory of Rome.  The pictures below will give you a tiny taste.  But I will tell you a story at the end--a very brief and funny one.  In the meanwhile all you need to do is look a these:






















Church View

The River Nile
Here's the story I learned in school:  In the center of the Piazza Navona is Bernini's Baroque masterpiece, the Fountain of the Four Rivers.  Evidently, there had been a competition to build the Church of Sant'Agnese in Agone, which you see in the church view above.  Bernini entered the competition, but the commission was given instead to his rival Borromini.  Bernini was asked instead to design and sculpt a fountain for the center of the piazza.  The statue representing the river Nile faces the church.  If you look carefully, in the center of the church view you can see the statue's hand raised.  The gesture is plain in the front view of the statue representing the River Nile.  Bernini's statue raises his hand to protect himself from the church when it falls down, since it was built by the winner of the competition who was, by Bernini's reckoning, an inferior architect!

When this blog goes up, we will be flying home.  It's been a cultural and culinary delight to be here.