Let the fête begin

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Writing a piece on the writing of THE MERCURY WALTZ, when I’d thought the story ended in the POPPY, brought me back to the surprise of that beginning, or re-beginning: the doubt and the challenge, and the exhilaration that the show, yes, must go on, with new players aside the veterans, and new puppets to jig, sport, break hearts and tell the truth no matter how inconvenient.

A work must first be a gift to the writer before s/he can give it to its readers. I’ll hope that you’ll accept this mercurial gift, that it be as surprising and pleasing and bracing as a cold Champagne cocktail served stageside by a beauty in a mask, while drums, or is it thunder, or is it soldiers? thrum outside in the greater dark.

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