Son of Angela
Ruben Carter has been a writer all his life. Much later in life he was told that he had a way with words. And again, that he had a gift, one that he didn't use.
I don’t know about that, but I do know that he can tell a story. In 'Son of Angela', he tells many stories all related to the main, some humorous, some heart-breaking.
Over the years, from a young age, he could be found in the early hours of the morning writing in a journal, or on a writing pad. Stories about events of the day, events of his life, and stories that happened in his mind at a rate almost too swiftly to copy.
In attacks of self-deprecation and low esteem, all these stories found their way to a fire, and disappeared back into the ethers from whence they came.
With the help of a Gnome, 'Son of Angela' has escaped the fire. It is now at your mercy.
Growing up as a Catholic in a rural area in Australia in the 1950s, starting First Grade at the local Catholic School was more than just the beginning of formal education. It was above all an initiation into a vast parallel culture.
A memoir of a family of that era in rural Australia, seen through the lens of a boy’s religious conscience.
There were sins that only Catholics could commit, like eating meat on Friday or missing Sunday Mass. But mostly the priests were there to pardon common failings of the flesh, which the timid liked to list under the general heading of “impure” thoughts, desires, and action.
Catholicism encompassed dating, mating, and football playing within an ambient world of symbolism, that defined reality for all who lived in its embrace.