One of the reviewers who had, well, reviewed my book, had asked me if she could do an interview with me. “Of course,” I’d replied. So she will be posting the interview this week. Her questions were actually very good!
One of her questions is as follows: “In the spirit of Ten Word Quickie, define ember between“
I know that some of the folks whose blogs I follow like a little story now and again, so I thought I’d share my answer with you.
With the meeting long over, the more social of the scribes collected themselves around the living room, half-empty wine glasses and various notebooks scattered upon the coffee table in a strange kind of artistic still life. Polite murmurs and trailing laughter ebbed and flowed as they’d stumbled from one subject to the next. Somehow the group had managed to hopscotch into a discussion of phrase and word origins.
Jerry had been quietly following it all, mutely darting his eyes back and forth as the verbal tennis match bounced through the room like child on a bed. His eyes fixed on Mel as she explained what she believed was the origin of the phrase “between the lines.”
“As I understand it,” she began, waving her pen in the air like a conductor, “it was largely derived as something literal from early military letters and their writing style. Seems many times correspondence was done in code, for obvious reasons. It was believed that sometimes highly secretive information would be written in invisible ink in-between the lines of text. Eventually the phrase came about as a suggested method of trying to discover coded messages in these letters as recipients—or interceptors—were told to ‘read beetween the lines’.”
Brent leaned forward and onto the edge of the couch. “Invisible ink, you say?”
Wine glass in hand, Mel only nodded, caught in mid-sip.
“I’ll have to try that on my agent next time she asks for an update,” he smirked.
Andi, the most easily excitable of the group, tossed her hand in the air and waved it about. “Oh, oh — what about ‘between a rock and a hard place’?” She glanced around, seemingly convinced she’d tossed a wet blanket on the proceedings. Heads swiveled all over the living room.
“I grew up in southern Arizona,” Kelly began, tossing her long red hair back over her ear. “Actually, it’s a well established bit of history that’s told by families in the area. In the very early 1900’s copper mining was the economic engine that drove business in Bisbee. Apparently the miners, who were being paid pretty low wages for incredibly dangerous work, had formed unions in an effort to muster some sort of leverage with company management. The economy was pretty bleak and the miners picked a bad time to try and improve their pay and working conditions.”
Wide-eyed, Andi interjected. “Was this during the Great Depression?”
“Around that time, yes,” Kelly answered. “Not only did management not cave in, they summarily deported some of the miners to New Mexico. So it’s thought the phrase came about because the miners were caught, literally, between their work in the mines—underpaid and dangerous as it was—or face the prospect of no job at all during a really rough economy.”
Once again, words of intrigued approval floated around the room—”interesting” and “fascinating” easily the most popular. Jerry leaned against the arm of the easy chair he’d been sitting in. He knew what was coming.
Mika, perhaps the most effectual and bookish of the bunch, gently rocked back in her chair, hands clasped in her lap. “Jerry—you’ve been, as usual, very quiet.”
“I assure you it’s not from a lack of attention,” he said.
Mika smiled. “I wouldn’t think it in the least.” Suddenly she leaned her weight forward causing the front legs of the chair to thump against the hardwood floor. “It seems to have escaped the purview of most everyone here that you have a book that has flown in under the radar.” Jerry immediately felt like a dart board, every set of eyes instantly fixed sharply upon him, accompanied by slack jaws and a surprised gasp or two.
“Um, well, I suppose so, Mika.” He hated her in this moment, but only playfully. Her smile did little to curry his favor.
She gracefully swept her hand across the room. “So, given this current discussion, it only seems fitting that I ask you what the origin of ‘ember between‘ is.” He looked around, trying to find the smallest loophole he could crawl through. Focused attention didn’t suit him, at least not here, right now, and loopholes evidently were not to be had. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath.
“It is the outward consequence of pleasure and pain, the altar upon which we place our sorrows and wishes. It’s the light that noiselessly erases the dark.” He glanced up and caught every stare still affixed upon him.
“It is the station each of us keeps between the stars in the heavens and the tribulations below. The ember between . . . it is us. It is Hope.”
Warm silence filled the room. Disturbingly absent were the gentle affirmations and raised eyebrows of the trivia-fed mind. Yet each face, male and female alike, projected serene respect.
Looking across the room at Mika, Jerry could read her lips as their eyes met—”Well done.”
For those who don’t know, my name isn’t Jerry :^)

http://www.flickr.com/photos/johnnyh/2789774923/
It may not be your real name, but you’re definitely Jerry in this story. I absolutely love your writing, J.W, truly. I’m assuming this is your book-club, the one you discussed with Mckenzie? If so, they sound like an interesting bunch of people, and I’m sure she’s going to be an awesome addition to the bunch
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Just to let you know, the term “ember between” is probably one of the most stirring and intriguing phrases I’ve seen used in a book title. There is simply something so alluring about it, even before one comes to understand its meaning.
“stirring” . . . That one word conjures images and emotions reminiscent of Thomas Paine for me. In short, I consider it a tremendous compliment. Thank you very much!
As for the folks in the writing group, the only similarity to them is the fact that they’re a group. All the names and personalities have been changed to protect the innocent ;^)
I agree with slightly, your name IS Jerry
You’re book is on my list of things to read. You’re writing is really fabulous.