Maine Character Energy

A charity anthology coming soon. Plus new prompt.

When Sam turned eight, she told her father she wanted to be a Solid Gold dancer. They were in his shop, and he said, “Sounds good, Sammy,” and she loved him for this, for not laughing. They lived in Maine, which, her father reminded her, was “about as goddamned far from Solid Gold as you’re likely to get.”

Okay, Sammy is me. Or, I should say, the Solid Gold part is me. The rest of this short story, “Glass,” is fictional. I grew up in Maine and had a mighty hunger to perform and get out of my small town. I took dance classes and was not great. I discovered musicals and Barry Manilow. (See previous Substacks.) I spent a lot of time outdoors studying tidal pools and pinecones and making up stories about woodland creatures. Anything to escape.

I’ve found that Mainers don’t really leave. Not completely. I’ve lived in Thailand, China, Japan, England, NYC—and Maine stays with me. Now I’m in Massachusetts, though I don’t always advertise this fact. (We had choice words for Mass tourists when I …