by L.B. Dunbar
March 4th - 17th
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The prodigal son. A second
chance. The long kept secret.
I had returned. I hadn’t been here for seven
years. I was angry that last summer, and once I got away, I didn’t want to come
back. The irony was the career I sought to escape this small town was the very
reason I was here. My first movie was a featured film at the Traverse City Film
Festival. As an independent film director, my premiere brought me back home.
Home. A place I didn’t recognize.
Or maybe home didn’t recognize me?
I had it all in California: a girlfriend who was
the daughter of a movie financier, a job that led to connections in the film
industry, and a condo overlooking the ocean in Malibu. What I didn’t have was
family. I had left them all behind. I was the prodigal son.
The last person I expected to see was her.
Britton McKay. She had been my summer love as a teenager. Not just once, but
over several summers; until the last one. That was seven years ago. Now, she
looked more beautiful than I remembered. Seeing her again flooded me with
memories long suppressed. She reminded me of everything I once had and left behind.
Now, she had returned too.
Can lost romance be rekindled?
Can unanswered questions be revealed?
Can I make this place my home again?
L.B. Dunbar reunites you with the Carter and
Scott families as all are gathered home.
Your favorite families await with flashbacks,
celebration, and heartbreak.
Welcome back to Elk Rapids
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About L.B. Dunbar
like to say I was always a writer. I’d also like to say that I wrote every day
of my life since a child. That I took the teaching advice I give my former
students because writing every day improves your writing. I’d like to say I
have my ten-thousand hours that makes me a proficient writer. But I can’t say
any of those things. I did dream of writing the “Great American Novel” until
one day a friend said: Why does it have to be great? Why can’t it just be good
and tell a story?
As a teenager, I wrote your
typical love-angst poetry that did occasionally win me an award and honor me
with addressing my senior high school class at our Baccalaureate Mass.
I didn't keep a journal because I was too afraid my mom would
find it in the mattress where I kept my copy of Judy Blume’s Forever that
I wasn't allowed to read as a twelve year old.
I can say that books have
been my life. I’m a reader. I loved to read the day I discovered “The Three
Bears” as a first grader, and ever since then, the written word has been my
friend. Books were an escape for me. An adventure to the unknown. A love affair
I’d never know. I could be lost for hours in a book.
So why writing now? I had a
story to tell. It haunted me from the moment I decided if I just wrote it down
it would go away. But it didn't. Three years after writing the first
draft, a sign (yes, I believe in them) told me to fix up that draft and
work the process to have it published. That’s what I did. But one story let to
another, and another, and another. Then a new idea came into my head and a
new story line was created.
I was accused (that’s
the correct word) of having an overactive imagination as a child, as if that
was a bad thing. I've also been accused of having the personality of
a Jack Russell terrier, full of energy, unable to relax, and always one step
ahead. What can I say other than I have stories to tell and I think you’ll like
them. If you don’t, that’s okay. We all have our book boyfriends. We all have
our favorites. Whatever you do, though, take time for yourself and read a book.