Monthly Archives: April 2015

Story Sacredness

While reading over coffee this morning (A Sudden Light, by Garth Stein. Amazing book!) I got to a point where I wantedsobadlysosobadly to flip ahead and see if my suspicions were correct. It took all my readerly reserve to stop myself. If a book is only okay, I’ll often flip ahead to see if it’s going where I think it is. Sometimes, it’s the only excitement I have throughout the reading. But with a book like this one–oh, how delicious the suspense, and the abstinence. There’s the satisfying feel of pages under your fingertip, place saving with another. The tactile/olfactory nature of reading, for those of us who did not grow up with smartphones and tablets, is a real thing. It evokes every book we’ve ever read. The rainy days, the sunshine on pages, the beach, the library. No need for power chargers or wifi; all one needs is enough light to read by. And if the tide comes up and drenches a book, sunshine will dry it out. Failing that, replacing it with another copy of said book is far less expensive than replacing an ereader.


Don’t you know there are always “buts” in my posts? I love my ereader. No matter how many pages the book is, my Kindle always weighs the same. I can bring my entire library with me on vacation, and if I read through all my books, another one is a click away. The pesky desire to page ahead gets quashed before I think the thought, because it really is a pain in the butt to do so on an ereader. (I’ve a Paperwhite, not the more sophisticated versions.) If I can’t sleep in the middle of the night, I don’t have to worry about waking Frankie D with a reading light or leave my comfy bed to spare him. I can read anytime, anywhere. And, though I don’t need to do so yet, I can adjust the size of the text for my ever-aging eyes.

Ebooks are almost always less expensive, comparing like with like. And while I can often buy a print book for pennies on Amazon second-hand, I can usually spend a little more for the e-version and ensure the writer gets paid a royalty. As a writer myself, that means something to me. If I read a book on my ereader and really love it, I’ll buy a print copy. I seek out first edition, hard covers and/or signed copies first–after all, I already bought the book once so the author will forgive me for losing out on a second royalty–to add to my collection.

Oral history was sacred. The keepers of the stories were the most important in any tribe. Respected. Revered. Magical. Writing made oral history accessible to all who could read. Widespread literacy (a fairly new phenomenon, I might add) made it accessible to everyone. However you absorb a story, be it audio, electronic, or print, it is sacred. Some more than others, perhaps. There is no better way to get a story into our brains, there is only different. And, currently, a multitude of ways to do so.

How do you read? Audiobooks? Ebooks? Print books? And why? Curious oysters want to know.


Filed under Writing is Life

Pulling Out the Positive

Those who know me know my past. I don’t make it a secret. I don’t wallow or dwell, though I can’t help but carry it with me every day. I do my best to honor it, honor him, accept and learn. It has shaped me as a person, as a writer, as a mother and wife. As a daughter and sister. Embracing the tragedy of my past rather than shunning it, I believe, gives me the freedom to be truly happy. We can’t hide from what has been. It is my devout belief that pulling a positive out of any negative lessens the impact and the power of any tragedy. I have pulled, and continue to  pull, positives out of every negative. The facets are as intriguing as they are beautiful. Maybe even divine.

Since the day he died, Brian has been part of every story I write in some way. Just now, I was working on Waking Savannah, and the absolute truth of that fact hit me right in the belly.

Slumping back in her chair, she blew out a deep breath. Drew in another. Let it go. If Benny and Johanna and half the town knew her story, she had been oblivious to it. No one brought it up, not even after her alter-ego became common knowledge. Conversation did not hush the moment she walked into a gathering.

It happened all the time after Brian died, whenever I walked into a room. All eyes turned to me, pitying and compassionate, and all conversation stopped. It never mattered if they were talking about me or not, because the result was the same. It hurt every time. I did not want to be identified as “that poor girl.” Years later, I would come to understand that from this negative, I pulled out the positive decision of not being her. I became the woman who survived, who thrived, who found happiness after grief. Brian’s children always knew him, and not because of tears and grief. He was Daddy-Brian, not just to his two biological children, but to the two kids I had with Frank. We remembered him with happiness, included him in our lives. How else does one honor the beloved deceased?

And still, that old feeling lingers to this day to a lesser degree, when someone first finds out I had a life before this one. That I was a wife and mother and widow before I turned twenty-two. The instant pity/compassion. The “that must have been really hard.” What does one say to that? “It was.” Plain and simple. But I always fluster, because that “poor girl” gets thrown off every time. “It was a long time ago.” “I try not to dwell.” “Shut the fuck up, you know nothing, Jon Snow.” Okay, so I don’t say the last one out loud, but sometimes…sometimes it’s hard not to lash out. I want to tell those kind souls who have no idea the nerve they’ve tapped not to look at me like that. I can’t stand the pity. I overcame my past to make a freaking amazing life. Don’t throw me back there again, dammit! Not even for a moment of heartfelt compassion.

Writing that line this morning really hit me, which is why I took a break from the story to write this post. I needed to get it out of my head. It’s not like I didn’t know I was writing this piece of myself into Savannah. Like all my characters, she has been a facet of me from inception. It was the visceral response I had to that bolded line above that got me, all these years later.

Unlike me, Savannah kept her past secret for many years, but will she continue along my path? Well, I know the answer to that; you’ll have to wait a year and five months. But I bet you can guess.


Filed under Romance, Writing is Life

A Tale of the Incomparable Frankie D

(Continued from FB, where it just became too long!)

Or: How I got two engagement rings…

Riding along Route 9, heading to a beach party down the shore, we got stuck in traffic. Frankie D spotted a jewelry store in a strip mall as we passed. “I’m buying you an engagement ring,” said he, and veered sharply into the parking lot. I, having only know the man less than two months, had no idea what kind of $ he had to spend. I conservatively chose this:


Sorry it’s so blurry. I wanted aquamarine, because it is my birthstone. They had none, so I chose this blue topaz surrounded by diamonds. A family friend asked if it was a “friendship ring.” Frankie D never got over it.

Hell, how was I supposed to know he could have afforded a diamond? I barely knew him. (Don’t gasp. We’ve been married 26 years. It’s all good.)

Skip ahead 18 years. We’re in a mall we’ve never been to before, and are only there to kill some time. Guess what Frankie D spots? Yup, a jewelry store. This one is going out of business! 75% off everything in the store.

“I’m buying you a diamond,” says he, and into the store we went. I chose two rings for him so he could “surprise” me with one of them.


This is life with Frankie D. When we first met and fell in love so quickly, “impetuous” was his favorite word. It still is.

Leave a comment

Filed under Frankie D Stories

Cover Reveal!

I’m just going to put this here and revel a moment…


Sigh…there they are–Charlie and Johanna, on the cover to my October 27, 2015 novel being published by Lyrical Press, an imprint of Kensington Publishing, Seeking Carolina. It does all a romance cover should do. The colors, the images make you want to pick it up, turn it over, read the blurb. What you do from there is up to you.

I’m just going to bask a while. There will be more in upcoming months, but for now…sigh…life sure is good.


Filed under Romance