Dad’s in the car already and Mom’s downstairs screeching for me, so this is it. But you need to remember something. Even though out of state—way out of state—was always the plan, NOW was not. Not until I’d graduated and you’d finished freshman year and we’d at least convinced them to let you play football. THAT was the plan—to come home from college and watch you juke. But it won’t be bad. Really. Eat your limas—use ketchup if you have to. Study hard and don’t do what I did and all the other sisterly crap I’m supposed to say. But I mean it. Don’t screw around where you shouldn’t and you’ll survive. OK—she’s about to stroke. Write me. Bye.
About the Author
After adolescence survived in the Midwest and a few obligatory years at the university, Idyllwild Eliot embarked on a journey of internal and external exploration. With stints in Houston, Louisiana, and even Thailand, where she studied yoga, Ms. Eliot has become a semi-professional vagabond. Most recently (at the time of publication) she has been experiencing the North American west. If not sipping a cocktail on a deck in the northern Rockies, she might be found bodysurfing in Southern California, watching Bald Eagles in Montana, or in some other picturesque town hiking, meditating, or sitting with her laptop open and, at its side, a stout mug of black coffee. Well Below Heaven is her debut.