My Birthday

I made omelets for breakfast. Maritza served me my coffee in a “Happy Birthday” mug, with matching placemat.

We didn’t do much all morning. That was just fine with me. A good lazy day. I got lots of Facebook "Happy Birthdays" and some emails from my family and "brothers," Dom, Steve, and Burt.  I even chatted with Steve on Skype, which was nice. I think that’s the first time I’ve chatted with him since I’ve been here.

We did one other notable thing today. We met the author of the book on Costa Rican spheres. Let me set it all up properly:

1. Over a year ago, I took a storytelling class and studied the classic “hero quest” story form that has been repeated for thousands of years. Taking the class motivated me to write my own hero quest, so I started writing a book about a girl who has an adventure in Costa Rica. The stone spheres of Costa Rica, which really do exist, play an important role in the story.

2. When I came to Costa Rica this summer, I read a newspaper article about a Costa Rican archeologist who has written the definitive book on the spheres: Esferas Precolombinas de Costa Rica (Pre-Columbian Spheres of Costa Rica). I decided I wanted that book, both to educate myself for my book and because it looked really cool.

3. When the museum bookstore didn’t have any copies, the girl at the bookstore suggested I look up the author on the internet to try to get a copy directly from her. Her name is Ifigenia Quintanilla. I googled her and saw that she had a facebook account. So I requested to be her friend with a note that explained that I was trying to get a copy of her book. Over a week went by and I didn’t hear back. I all but forgot about it.

4. About a week ago, I got an email from Facebook that said she had become my friend. I logged on to her profile and sent a more detailed message to her, explaining my situation and giving her my phone number here.

5. A few days ago, she called. I was in the shower and when I got out, Cristina said “You’re not going to believe this. I just had a 12-minute conversation with the author!” She had told Cristina that she didn’t have any extra copies of the book but she said I could copy the one that she owned. She lives in Barcelona, but she’s vacationing here with family. She invited us to come to her house in Santa Ana.

6. Today, Wito drove us to Santa Ana and we spent about three hours talking to her about the spheres and reading her book.

First of all, Ifigenia is extremely nice. She treated us graciously, serving a huge spread of crackers and cheeses, Spanish sausage (brought from Barcelona), vegetables, juice, and so on. She offered her pool to the kids. We sat and talked by the pool, and Alex eventually got in, but it was a bit too cold.

About halfway through the visit, when I started describing my book, I learned that Ifigenia has a problem with writers who write fiction about the spheres. You have to understand, she’s devoted a significant portion of her adult life studying and researching the spheres as well as the people who created and used them. There are many myths and folk tales about the spheres. So when someone writes a book about how the spheres were, say, made by aliens, or have magical powers, she cringes. It’s like it diminishes something that was very important to the ancient people. I sense that she sees herself as a keeper, or defender, of the culture that spent so much of their time and energy to the crafting of these spheres, people that are no longer around to explain or defend it themselves. So it got a little awkward there for a minute, because, without giving too much away, my story totally embraces those myths and folk tales about the origins and uses of the spheres. To me, that was the coolest part of the spheres when I first came here in 1994. Everyone loves a good mystery. Crop circles, UFOs, the Loch Ness Monster…and the mysterious stone spheres of Costa Rica. No one truly knows how they were made so perfectly symmetrical, or what their purpose was. That’s great fodder for an exciting fantasy story, in my humble opinion. And the fact that they aren’t as widely known as mysteries like Bigfoot or Nessie made it even better.

Her concern is that people who hear the fictional stories about the spheres will latch on to those theories and myths instead of learning the truth, which she has painstakingly assembled. I get it. I don’t begrudge her for how she feels. There were definitely two completely different types of writers sitting there at her table: academic and fiction. I see fictionalized stories of the spheres as harmless. If anything, fictional stories might pique the curiosity about the real-life mystery. When I see a movie “based on a true story,” I know what I’m seeing is not completely true. When I saw Braveheart, I didn’t just assume that William Wallace really existed and did all those things he did in the movie. But I did look up information about him. I enjoy discovering what parts are true and what parts are mythologized or sensationalized or completely fabricated. But I love stories. And that’s all part of the enjoyment of story.

So I’m going on with my story the way it is. I’m definitely more educated about the spheres now, and I think I have a greater depth of respect for those who created them. And I don’t mind writing a disclaimer at the end of my story that explains what’s really known about the spheres. I’d even be happy to refer readers to her book (if anybody could get a copy of the darned thing).

It’s funny to consider that Ifigenia probably assumed that my book would be published. That’s flattering. But the truth is, getting a book published is mostly luck. It’s being in the right place at the right time. It has very little to do with the quality of the book, although the writing does need to be solid. So even though my mother is convinced that I’m destined for book signings at Barnes & Noble, the reality is that I’m writing this book primarily for my children. And my family and friends might enjoy it too. So Ifigenia’s worries are likely a bit overblown. And my secondary purpose for writing it is for the practice. Yes, I wrote a novel during my first year of college. But it’s embarrassingly horrible. I feel a little more competent to try it now.

Spending an afternoon visiting with a published author was a cool way to spend my birthday. She lent me her copy of the book and we’ll get together again Wednesday to try to get copies made. Copyright laws here in Costa Rica are, shall we say, lax. So copy shops are happy to copy entire books for you. I wish I could just buy a copy of the real thing, but if I can make copies for a reasonable amount, that will have to do.

Back at home, I offered to take Wito and Maritza out for a birthday dinner, but with only one car, it’s a bit complicated to go somewhere. So we got Papa John’s pizza. Or as Wito pronounces it, “Papa Joan’s.”

Sofia has a habit of closing her eyes in pictures.  True to form, Sofia's eyes were closed in the first picture Cristina took, plus Wito inadvertently looked kind of grumpy.  Cristina gave Wito a hard time about it, so this is how he looked in the second one.

When I went to bed at 11, Cristina was already asleep. I watched an awesome show on the Discovery Channel about the first lunar landing (I was born on the 3rd anniversary of the landing). I had no idea just how dangerous the trip had been. Man, we were lucky to have pulled it off. In fact, there was such a slim chance of the ascent module working (the part that blasted off the surface of the moon to get them home) that President Nixon had a speech prepared in case of failure. “Fate has ordained that the men who went to the moon to explore in peace will stay on the moon to rest in peace.” Chilling!