Outing Kyd Scorcho

(In case you’re reading this Kyd, don’t worry—this blog spot isn’t titled “Agreeable Like Spring” for no reason, you know, and only the really clever few of the minions who are reading this will be able to figure out who I’m writing about, because I can be very cryptic and won’t use real names. And yes I know, Scorcho is not a name I came up with, but your own choice, thereby fitting the definition of real name. But, you’re already out there, right? I mean, reading someone's blog is not the same as skulking around and digging through someone's chiffarobe, is it?)

My daughter, Kmohot-B, who, by the way, is no slouch herself when it comes to being fresh and funny, sent me some captioned pictures a couple or so years ago of a friend who was getting ready for a much anticipated wedding: lovely young woman in a glowing white wedding dress and veil which was lightly tossed by a heavenly breeze, having a conversation with a yellow-toothed horse over the fence. A dialogue, if you will, with a poor, mistreated equine who wanted her to take him and his friend home with her. Empathic (however acerbic she might also be), compassionate soul that she is…well, you can guess the outcome of this story. (Maybe you had to be there, and I’m not including the surprising lines in this writing, but I was quite caught off guard and delighted by the off-handed wit in this silly little story.) Here's a site you might be interested in Kyd: http://www.nipbuster.com/?gclid=CK79laOx15gCFQqAgwodAgKdew

I already knew a bit about this woman and her family over the years, before she was even really a woman, but not much at all about the real “her” of her. Not, of course, that I know her much better now, but I do know that here is a real flesh and bone, write from the raw gut, writer! No, I didn’t get that just from the wedding-horse story. I’ve read other things she’s written. She has a blog that’s connected to her sister’s blog.

And here we’re going to take a couple of turns around the cobbler’s bench before I get to the point (or maybe just the end) of this post. Kyd Scorcho’s bigger sister is in the same book club in which I sometimes participate. We have our own book club blog. I clicked around the links in that blog, landed in Kyd sister’s big sister Enn Sea’s not-book-club-but-other-writer’s-blog (remember, I told you no real names!) and oh my goodness what a surprise! Scorcho writes a blog! And she’s so gutsy and sharp. Unwincingly unabashed. Clever. Poignant. Makes you sad her stuff is so short and doesn’t fill volumes of work out there…and a little bit sad sometimes just because.

Bigger Sister is a writer—prolific and loved—has her own world of accolades and accomplishments, her own “Name” in certain literary circles and is, even as we speak, I think, being considered for some writer’s prize named after another writer—or something. Sorry, Enn Sea—I’m impressed and proud enough to pop a button but have a bad memory. And anyway, this isn’t about that.

So is my point that certain talents may run in families, either genetically or otherwise? Not really. Observing life on the planet. Wondering. Will Scorcho make a name for herself wordsmithing? Maybe. If we’re lucky.