Sergei Kourdakov, a former KGB agent and Soviet naval intelligence officer, defected from the USSR at the age of twenty. A year later we met at my Federal Government office in Washington DC. We were watched and followed. “Even you could be spy,” Sergei whispered. My book, A Rose for Sergei, is the true story of our time together.

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Fair Weather Writing

I have discovered that I never feel like writing on a rainy day.  It must have something to do with the dull gray skies.  On a rainy day the gloomy haze surrounds everything and clouds my writing, even though I actually like the sound of the raindrops splattering on the roof and the ground.  My favorite days to write are when the sun is shining brightly and the clear blue skies cover the earth.  I find that inspiring.

Today there is neither sunshine nor blue skies outside.  It isn’t raining either.  It is snowing like crazy!  It reminds me of my childhood days when I lived in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan and went sledding and ice skating during the cold winter months.  I loved to ice skate so much my father even iced-over our backyard so I could skate after dark.

Right now the snowfall prediction is eight inches or more on the East Coast, depending how far north you are.  All the schools are closed in the area.  Even the Federal Government is closed today!  Some people say it’s another “Snowmageddon Blizzard.”  I say it’s a good day to write!

A short excerpt from A Rose for Sergei:

Fall 1972
(My boss was aware that Sergei needed a warmer coat during his stay in Washington DC.  I was asked to assist with the coat selection.  Mr. Logie, Sergei, and I ventured out on a quick shopping trip.)

I didn’t realize what a strange group we were until we reached the store and made our way towards the men’s overcoat section.  There was the red headed, professional-looking older man with his quirky fast New Zealand accent.  Then there was the young, tall, ruggedly handsome young man with huge broad shoulders who spoke broken English in a thick Russian accent.  And finally there was me, the petite, slight of build, young blonde female, who spoke perfect English and seemed to be somewhat bossy.  We were an odd trio indeed, and we made quite a comedic scene at the store.  I don’t think Sergei was used to having someone like me help him select his clothes.  And I wasn’t at all used to running an errand like this with my boss.  Sergei looked like he was the kind of guy that was used to calling all of the shots . . . .


No comments:

Post a Comment