| This astonishing book has been a lifetime in the writing ... |
| fiction non-fiction memoir poetry |
| The cover design for Don't You Remember? was accepted into the "Visions From Voices" exhibition at the Kentucky Museum for Art + Craft in Louisville (July-Oct 2007). Cover design created by visual artist Kurt Gohde. www.kurtgohde.com ~ Cover design is built on an Algieri Images photograph of an Inigo Jones bridge in Llanrwst, Wales. www.algieri-images.co.uk This particular bridge is one of several recurring images in the story. |
| ISBN 0-9778745-6-7 |
| Memoir 216 pages |
back to ...
| To email the publisher: ask@MotesBooks.com |
| (c) 2012 |
back to ...
| Praise for DON'T YOU REMEMBER? "George Ella Lyon, in Don’t You Remember?, goes more deeply into the mystery of the creative process than anyone I've read. She celebrates this mystery in a compelling narrative, an irresistible story filled with suspense and wonder. The writing is just lovely." — BOBBIE ANN MASON author of In Country, Nancy Culpepper, and Clear Springs: A Memoir "Lyon's story is haunting, thought-provoking, brave, amazing, and maybe even the best book yet from this beloved author. No matter what you believe about past-life experiences, there's no denying that this is a book of rare beauty and excellent writing." — SILAS HOUSE author of Clay’s Quilt, Eli The Good, and A Parchment of Leaves "As enthralling as any mystery story – for it is a mystery story of the highest order – Don't You Remember? enlists the reader in a search for the source of many puzzling "memories" and unexplained coincidences in George Ella Lyon's life. This search will take her up and down one continent and across to another, opening up possibilities of story and mystery which speak to us all." — LEE SMITH author of The Last Girls, On Agate Hill, and Fair and Tender Ladies "Though I've never had a glimmer of a past-life experience myself, I found this account of George Ella Lyon's encounter riveting, as suspenseful as a good mystery. But the stakes are much higher. Only a person deeply at home in her own spirit could have had this experience, much less written about it with such trustworthy discernment, such willingness to be led into and through what was happening to her, such luminous clarity. It is also, as it happens, a penetrating, serious meditation on the kind of possession – by impulse, intuition, memory – through which fiction of the best kind arises." — MARY ANN TAYLOR-HALL author of How She Knows What She Knows About Yo-Yos and Come and Go, Molly Snow |
| Don't You Remember? is author George Ella Lyon's 36th book |
In Don’t You Remember? poet, novelist and children’s writer George Ella Lyon investigates a childhood experience in which she seemed to have uncovered memories from another lifetime. Her decades-long search takes her back to the town where the ‘memories’ surfaced, through libraries and archives, to past-life therapy, and eventually to Wales. Part mystery, part a study of the creative process, Don’t You Remember? leads the adult reader deep into essential questions about who and how we are. |
| Photo by Ann W. Olson |
To visit George Ella's website,
click the web ...
click the web ...
| Photo byAnn W. Olson |
If I was five, my brother Robert was almost twelve, my
mother thirty-four, my father thirty-six. We were en route
from our home in the Kentucky mountains to Niagara Falls,
where my parents had spent their honeymoon.
It was 1954. If you turned on the radio you might hear
Rosemary Clooney singing "Hey There." But I could sing it
when the radio was off. I knew all the words. Just as
Robert knew the stats for the Yankees, I knew songs. So
as we drove that morning up Highway 17, I was singing. I
was singing as we passed Painted Post, but all of a sudden
I stopped.
"Daddy," I said. "Blow the horn under the underpass!"
This was one of our traditions.
"I would, Sugar," he said, "but there isn't any underpass
here.
"There will be," I told him. Then we went around a curve
and there it was.
Daddy laid on the horn. I loved the echo.
A mile or so later Robert spotted a big building in the
distance. "What's that?" he asked.
"It's a razor blade factory," I said.
"Where does she get such ideas?" Mother asked Daddy.
But when we got close, they saw it was a razor blade
factory.
"Whoa!" Robert said. "How did you know that?"
"Can we go see the fountain?" I asked. "I want to go see
the fountain!"
"What fountain?" Daddy asked.
"The one in the park," I answered.
"What park?" Robert asked.
"The one with round lights on a stem," I said, holding my
arms out like the branches of the lamp, palms downward,
cupped to hold the globes of glass.
It may have been the lamps that got them. We didn't have
any like that in my hometown.
"Do you know how to get to this park?" Daddy asked.
"Turn up there," I told him.
And, as if I'd been giving directions in Bath, New York, all
my life, I guided him through the few turns till we pulled up
at the park.
"There's the lamps," Daddy said.
"And the fountain," Mother put in.
They let me run around the little park, my plump legs brown
in plaid shorts, the white ruffle of my halter top flapping. I
touched the lamp posts, the trees, the gazebo. I did
somersaults in the grass. Finally, I came to sit by them at
the fountain. Robert was measuring the depth of the water
with a stick.
"Is this where you wanted to come, Sugar?" Daddy asked.
"Um-hmm," I said. It felt so good to be there.
"How did you know about this place?" Mother asked.
"I used to teach school here," I told them.
mother thirty-four, my father thirty-six. We were en route
from our home in the Kentucky mountains to Niagara Falls,
where my parents had spent their honeymoon.
It was 1954. If you turned on the radio you might hear
Rosemary Clooney singing "Hey There." But I could sing it
when the radio was off. I knew all the words. Just as
Robert knew the stats for the Yankees, I knew songs. So
as we drove that morning up Highway 17, I was singing. I
was singing as we passed Painted Post, but all of a sudden
I stopped.
"Daddy," I said. "Blow the horn under the underpass!"
This was one of our traditions.
"I would, Sugar," he said, "but there isn't any underpass
here.
"There will be," I told him. Then we went around a curve
and there it was.
Daddy laid on the horn. I loved the echo.
A mile or so later Robert spotted a big building in the
distance. "What's that?" he asked.
"It's a razor blade factory," I said.
"Where does she get such ideas?" Mother asked Daddy.
But when we got close, they saw it was a razor blade
factory.
"Whoa!" Robert said. "How did you know that?"
"Can we go see the fountain?" I asked. "I want to go see
the fountain!"
"What fountain?" Daddy asked.
"The one in the park," I answered.
"What park?" Robert asked.
"The one with round lights on a stem," I said, holding my
arms out like the branches of the lamp, palms downward,
cupped to hold the globes of glass.
It may have been the lamps that got them. We didn't have
any like that in my hometown.
"Do you know how to get to this park?" Daddy asked.
"Turn up there," I told him.
And, as if I'd been giving directions in Bath, New York, all
my life, I guided him through the few turns till we pulled up
at the park.
"There's the lamps," Daddy said.
"And the fountain," Mother put in.
They let me run around the little park, my plump legs brown
in plaid shorts, the white ruffle of my halter top flapping. I
touched the lamp posts, the trees, the gazebo. I did
somersaults in the grass. Finally, I came to sit by them at
the fountain. Robert was measuring the depth of the water
with a stick.
"Is this where you wanted to come, Sugar?" Daddy asked.
"Um-hmm," I said. It felt so good to be there.
"How did you know about this place?" Mother asked.
"I used to teach school here," I told them.
| Read an excerpt below from George Ella Lyon's stunning new memoir DON'T YOU REMEMBER? |
| "An IRRESISTIBLE story, filled with suspense and wonder." -- Bobbie Ann Mason "HAUNTING, thought-provoking, brave ... and maybe even the best book yet from this beloved author." -- Silas House "ENTHRALLING ... a mystery story of the highest order." -- Lee Smith "RIVETING ... only a person deeply at home in her own spirit could have had this experience, much less written about it. ..." --Mary Ann Taylor-Hall |
| a few more images of significance to readers of Don't You Remember? ... |
Click the book cover to read reviewer comments ... |
This and all other MotesBooks titles are available from YOUR LOCAL BOOKSTORE or on Powells.com, Amazon.com, BarnesandNoble.com, and other online sources. |