Optimism
Hope and Optimism and Possiblism!
Rhett reminding me that a world where belly rubs and bacon-flavored treats exist, there is always reason for hope . . .
I am a hopeless optimist.
I know, the bit on this website says I’m a possibilist, and that is, in fact, my word.
Let me ‘splain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up.
There’s an interesting history behind the word possibilist. According to the Wikipedia entry about Dr. Hans Rosling:
In his posthumous book Factfulness: Ten Reasons We're Wrong About the World – and Why Things Are Better Than You Think he wrote, “People often call me an optimist, because I show them the enormous progress they didn't know about. That makes me angry. I'm not an optimist. That makes me sound naive. I'm a very serious ‘possibilist.’ . . . It means someone who neither hopes without reason, nor fears without reason, someone who constantly resists the overdramatic worldview. As a possibilist, I see all this progress, and it fills me with conviction and hope that further progress is possible. This is not optimistic. It is having a clear and reasonable idea about how things are. It is having a worldview that is constructive and useful. (Emphasis mine)
Hope for further progress, and a constructive and useful worldview. Who wouldn’t want that?
So I aspire to be a possibilist, but in my clearest moments I admit to optimism, to believing the best may come, in spite of any evidence to the contrary.
Which is why I love celebrations of the solstice and the new year: light in darkness, celebrations in spite of sometimes grim reality, hope for the future. And most of all, a belief, however irrational, that love will prevail, that all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.
Book Review
It’s a place where good things happen.
In anticipation of reading Somewhere Beyond the Sea, I am taking a moment to savor the first book in the series, The House in the Cerulean Sea by TJ Klune (Tor Books 2020). If you haven’t read this book, described as Harry Potter for adults, I strongly encourage (admonish, commend, suggest, urge, advocate, tout, and put in my two cents) you to run right out and buy it or borrow from your library. Or—fine—scroll to the appropriate page and purchase it online, if you must.
What’s it about, you ask?
A tired and dreary case manager living a tired and dreary life, beset on all sides by unpleasant people, his only friend an even more unpleasant cat, is suddenly cast ashore (almost literally) on an island paradise. He has been sent by Extremely Upper Management to shut down the island’s orphanage, which houses children with magical abilities who are considered second class citizens at best, and at worst dangerous creatures who must be quarantined from the rest of civilized society.
But here, at the orphanage, these children are allowed to be themselves, and loved because of, not in spite of, who they are.
Like I said: it’s a place where good things happen.
There is a bearded garden she-gnome, and a devil’s son. There is a boy who turns into a dog. There is a charming sea slug. There is unexpected romance in an otherwise romance-less life. And there is joy and kindness and friendship and laughter. In a world peopled by petty bureaucrats and bigots, the house in the cerulean sea is a place where love exists, in spite of everything.
Telling more would require an extreme Spoiler Alert, and I won’t do it.
Here are a few of my favorite quotes, to whet your appetite.
_______________________________________________
Mr. Parnassus arched an eyebrow. “The world is a weird and wonderful place. Why must we try and explain it all away?”
#
He began to cackle.
Mr. Parnassus sighed . . . “Did you just tell that entire story to be able to make a joke?”
“Yes,” Lucy said, wiping his eyes. “Because you told me once that if we can’t laugh at ourselves, we’re doing it wrong. Am I doing it wrong? Nobody seems to be laughing.”
“Humor is subjective, I’m afraid,” Mr. Parnassus said.
“That’s unfortunate,” Lucy said . . . . “Humanity is so weird. If we’re not laughing, we’re crying or running for our lives because monsters are trying to eat us. And they don’t even have to be real monsters. They could be the ones we make up in our heads. Don’t you think that’s weird?”
“I suppose. But I’d rather be that way than the alternative.”
“Which is?”
“Not feeling anything at all.”
#
“It would be better if there were actual treasure,” Lucy muttered.
“And what if the treasure was the friendships we solidified along the way?” Arthur asked.
Lucy pulled a face. “That’s the worst treasure in the world. They already were my friends. I want rubies.”
_____________________________________
Consider your appetite whetted - if you want more, you'll need to read The House in the Cerulean Sea!
One last quote from
TJ Klune’s The House in the Cerulean Sea,
to bring it back to optimism:
No, it wasn’t very fair at all.
“It’s not,” Mr. Parnassus said,
agreeing with the unspoken words.
“But I allow him to dream of such things because he’s a child, and who knows what the future will bring?
Change often starts with the smallest of whispers.
Like-minded people building it up to a roar.”
Join me in whispering and roaring of a world
where all children are loved and safe and cared for,
where each of us can be our best selves,
where we all focus on being kind to each other
and to the earth we share.
Postscript 1: As you surely know by now, I love words, and “hopeless optimist” is a delightful oxymoron!
Postscript 2: To be clear, I am not talking about Good-Ship-Lollipop feelings (or, if you’re a bluegrass fan, Big-Rock-Candy-Mountain fantasies). On any given day there will be pain and sadness - sometimes unimaginable pain and sadness, more for some who are on the receiving end of institutional and/or societal oppression. And there will be moments of gladness, for all of us. Optimism, for me, is the belief that we can fill our cups with the latter, while fighting to reduce the former in any way available to us.
Image of the earth in family hands by the oh-so-perfectly named Sunny Studios (text added)
For the Love of Dog
An issue devoted entirely to the dogs of Violet Vale
The one and only Rhett***
An issue devoted entirely to the dogs of Violet Vale . . .
I share a bit of Chapter Thirteen,
where we meet these marvelous canines,
on YouTube here.
I know, I know, Butch is a long-haired Dachshund.
So this is him with a haircut.
It is summer when we first meet him, after all.
Some may say there’s no such thing as too cute.
Claude begs to differ.
The photographer wouldn’t even let him
rip the teddy bear to shreds.
Did you know Great Pyrenees have “self-cleaning fur”?
Freya looks relatively clean here, but I can assure you from firsthand experience that white fur gets grimy.
There is, I believe, nothing quite so wonderful
as a Labrador leaning against you
and looking up at you adoringly.
As Crackers would say:
Oh my good and gracious me.
Who wrote this content???
Lipton’s a GIRL!
Well, male, female, or non-binary,
in my not so humble opinion
Lipton is the star of the story.
If you haven’t read Two Over Easy All Day Long
and want to know more,
or if you’ve read it and want to share it
with someone you love,
hie thee to a bookseller:
Amazon.com, Bookshop.org, BarnesandNoble.com, Powells.com, etc.
Better yet, order it from your favorite local bookstore!
To all of you from Rhett-Dog:*
A Happy New Year!
May your days be filled with
everything you like best**
and nothing you like least.***
* Rhett is currently the sum total of our own Hairy Horde, and not a character in Two Over Easy All Day Long. He did model for Freya, though, so his photo is included here as an honorary member of the pack.
** Rhett would have listed belly rubs, chicken-flavored treats, roaming the fields at his favorite dog-sitter’s house, snoozing by the fire near myself or my Other Half, and any time spent with one of my adult children, or my dad - who is visiting as I write this and is one of Rhett’s new favorite people. I agreed to share his personal list of favorites because he can’t. No opposable thumbs, you know.
*** Trips to the vet, nail-trimming, mornings when it’s raining so hard we skip the walk, and any time someone Rhett has identified as a member of his flock walks out the door. Even momentarily.
The images shared here - other than Rhett’s photo - are [mostly] how I picture these sweet and silly dogs. Butch image by NORRIE3699 from Getty Images (text added). Marigold image by Alkir from Getty Images (text added). Claude image (sans squirrel toy) by Wavetop from Pexels. Freya image by JZHunt from Getty Images (text added). Callooh image by Elina Volkova from Pexels (text added). Lipton image by Petar Tutunjiev from Getty Images (text added).
Give the Gift of Story
Give the Gift of Story!
“You just can’t help
but feel better about life
when you read it . . . ”
Emily Quinn, A Quintillion Words
“Two Over Easy All Day Long is a story of finding meaning in the little things. It’s a story of responsibility, redemption, and resilience. Of friendship and hope. In fact, there is so much packed into this story that it’s pretty hard to define in a single sentence, and for that reason, I fell in love with it. These characters are so full of life and personality that you’ll find it hard not to consider them friends afterwards . . . . I found myself laughing one minute and tearing up the next. A really powerful journey of growth and acceptance, with a few laughs thrown in. It really is a hidden gem!”
Find the full A Quintillion Words review here.
Maybe you’ve already been inspired to Give the Gift of Story. Maybe you’ve already bought a book to give to someone you love. If so, why not buy another, or two more, or ten? Why not make it a baker's dozen?
End of year is a particularly critical time for authors, as annual sales data influence media, contest judges, and other people and organizations who can help spread the word about a good book. So if you’re considering giving a book, might I gently suggest that you do it today? After all . . .
The long dark days of winter
are just begging for a good book!
And if you need more justification, there’s this: more and more research confirms what we bibliophiles know instinctively—reading is good. Good for the soul, good for the brain, good for the individual, good for the community, good for the world. Stories, essays, memoirs, poems, plays . . . reading connects us to each other, builds empathy, and feeds the light within.
There is so much that could be said about the value of reading. In the immortal words of Inigo Montoya, “Let me explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up.” A 2020 article in the Harvard Business Review reported on findings that:
Fiction builds empathy, because
“fiction provides an opportunity
to complicate standard good versus evil tropes.
Good literature presents characters
with competing and often equally valid viewpoints.”
Developing empathy by seeing the world through another’s eyes is one of the underlying themes in Two Over Easy All Day Long, as mentioned in the review by A Quintillion Words excerpted above.
And so, “to flog a horse, that if not dead is at this point in mortal danger of expiring,” (quoting Tom Hanks as The Professor in the 2004 version of the movie The Ladykillers), here is my ask, my recommendation, and my advice:
Give a book —
Two Over Easy All Day Long
or any book.
Better still, give lots of books
and
do it today!
Still on the fence? Check out my website for more reviews of Two Over Easy All Day Long, and past newsletters for other wonderful book recommendations!
Image of a reader by Bowie15 from Getty Images (text added).
Happiness
On happiness and gratitude.
“I’m happy!”
This is what my grandson tells me every morning, when I get him out of his crib.
In the evening, when I ask him how his day was, he says:
“It was great!”
I can’t remember the last time that was the answer that jumped to mind. (I truly can’t remember—no hyperbole intended; my memory is a finely-tuned machine desperately in need of some WD-40.)
We are living in tough times.
Political divisions, war, famine, and natural disasters, here in the US and globally . . . It all feels overwhelming.
On a more personal note, a close family member is once again facing significant health issues, and it feels as though my overly-full bucket of worry is no longer merely trickling over the top, it’s a gushing torrent that threatens to drown everything else. (I spend much of my time wrestling with health care providers, and sometimes it feels as though the “wrestling” is literal. Anyone who has been in or assisted someone else in a health crisis knows whereof I speak, and knows how exhausting it is.)
For all of these reasons, I am finding it difficult, this year,
to approach Thanksgiving with gratitude.
And then I see my grandson’s tousled hair
and sleepy morning smile
and hear him say, “I’m happy,”
and suddenly, miraculously, I’m happy too.
Other things that make me happy,
and remind me to be grateful
if only for a few, precious moments:
Dogs . . .
. . . Good food.
(Pecan pie comes to mind at this time of year. And pumpkin pie. And apple pie.) . . .
. . . Good books . . .
(Check out the latest book review below!)
. . . Seeing how beautifully
my children have grown up . . .
. . . Friends and Family . . .
. . . And let us not forget
Donkey Videos . . .
It sounds cheesy, but there is evidence that gratitude really does improve your outlook, your emotional health, your (dare I say it?) happiness.
If you don’t believe me, check out this 2022 NPR article and this YouTube story.
So join me in finding happiness in spite of it all. Maybe then the next time someone asks how the day was we can say with a happy grin:
IT WAS GREAT!
Two Over Easy All Day Long News
The book won another award, but I’ve been asked by the awarding organization to hold off on announcing the details until they publish the results in early December. Stay tuned…
The reading at Bookery in Manchester, New Hampshire was sweet.
What a lovely bookstore - check it out if you are in the “neighborhood”!
You can find a small clip posted on the YouTube channel here
I was honored to participate in not one but TWO book clubs. It’s a great way to connect and share different perspectives on Walt and Nancy and the rest of the crew, alternative justice, laughter, and the power of community. If you are interested, send me an email: sharilaneauthor@gmail.com.
Book Review
For fans of Louise Penny’s Armand Gamache series, The Grey Wolf does not disappoint—I spent many happy hours lost in the story! I even took the unusual step of buying it in hardback, as I’d already heard this book sets up the next in the series, and I want to make sure I can go back and re-read this one just before the next comes out. International intrigue, an insane poet (and her duck), a Dominican friar (who may or may not be one of the “bad guys,”) children throwing marshmallows on the ceiling and, as always, a race against time to save Gamache’s beloved Quebec. Check it out!
The Grey Wolf by Louise Penny (Minotaur Books 2024)
A Gift for an Author
(Repeated from an earlier Social Media Post - Ignore if you’ve already seen it.)
Have you read a good book, a book that made you hoard time like a dragon, shedding one solitary hot dragon tear when you reached the last page because by finishing the book you’ve lost the companionship of the characters, the escape of an unputdownable story, the Eureka moment when you read the very words you most needed in the moment?
And then when you dried your eyes and blew your nose did you wonder – before taking up the hurly burly of your life again – how you might thank the author for the gift of Story?
Here’s how: tell the world. Tell your friends, tell your enemies, tell a stranger. Rave about your favorite character to the clerk at the grocery store, while he glances, furtively, at the impatient line growing behind you. Quote your favorite line in barely intelligible garble to the dental hygienist as she attempts to crack the tartar from your upper right rearmost molar. Share a pithy philosophical point eloquently shown-not-told with your mechanic as they hmmm about the sound your car’s engine makes only when it is not in the shop.
Buy the book for someone you love (heavens, yes!), and request that your local library and bookstore carry the book (of course!), and post a review on social media and/or a review site (a sigh for the ubiquity and necessity of PR and social media) . . . . But when you've received the gift of Story from an author, the very best way to show gratitude is to pass it on.
Postscripts:
This newsletter is the third version of a newsletter sent to subscribers. If you’d like to receive future monthly newsletters in advance, sign up here. Also, the original newsletter delves more deeply into the sources of my angst, specifically related to the political landscape in the US. The Facebook powers-that-be have previously blocked newsletters and posts for that reason, so this version is purged of details. Probably for the best, if I am hoping to spread happiness, yes? The second version, posted to my personal social media, included lots of photos of friends and family that have been omitted from this version, which appears only on my Author Page.
That’s right, dear reader, you could have not one, not two, but THREE opportunities to read this newsletter (picture the eye-rolling emoji here, if you will).
Last but not least, In writing about finding happiness, I want to state unequivocally that I am not advocating that we ignore the state of the world, let up on the fight for justice, or fail to spread kindness where we can.
Only, when drowning in a sea of hard news, it helps, sometimes, to come up and sip the sweet air.
(Friends Melissa Chureau with Fully Mindful and Monika Gold with True Move Studio could tell you more eloquently than I the value of breathing).
AND I want to be clear, with myself and with you, lovely friends, that these are the actions we take . . .
. . . before diving back in.
*** Happiness Rocks image by Jennifer Shoniker from Getty Images (text added).
***Donkey image by JACLOU-DL from pixabay (text added).
Distraction
On Fame and Fortune and Writing
Advance Warning
(aka Confession)
I have tried, in the past, to avoid newsletters that are simply narcissistic navel-gazing for and about my art. In this edition, I’ve given up the effort. I can think of nothing better suited to distracting myself from election anxieties (in the US), grief for those mired in war and suffering (in so, so many places), and fears for the future of the earth we share, than a short session of self-indulgent fantasizing about fame.
You can thank me later.
Fame and Fortune
“If fame belonged to me, I could not escape her . . . the longest day would pass me on the chase, and the approbation of my dog would forsake me then. My barefoot rank is better.”
Emily Dickinson, in a 6/7/1862 letter to literary critic Thomas Wentworth Higginson.
Most people who love literature in general, and poetry in particular, have at least passing familiarity with the life story of Emily Dickinson, the reclusive writer who only posthumously achieved notoriety. Her approach to publication, and her rejection of fame on principle, are consistent with the rest of her life.
Contrast Flannery O’Connor’s comments: “Success means being heard and don't stand there and tell me you are indifferent to being heard. Everything about you screams to be heard. You may write for the joy of it, but the act of writing is not complete in itself. It has its end in its audience.”
I confess to harboring both sentiments.
Writing rarely brings monetary rewards, and that’s okay. There is very little that I need, and certainly nothing essential that I lack for which more money would be the cure.
I have the wild cliffs of Iceberg Point, and the sound of the wind racing the seagulls across the Salish Sea.
I have a partner who looks like a sea captain (and talks like one, too), who can still make me laugh after all these years.
I have adult children who are intelligent and kind and self-sufficient, and a grandson who brings light wherever he goes.
I have a dog, as faithful as Emily Dickinson’s Carlo, who never fails to make me smile.
My private heartbreaks would not be ameliorated with fabulous wealth. Beloved friends and family who have passed away would not be resurrected with more money. The many (many!) aches and pains that plague me would not disappear if I were richer.
So no, I don’t long for the fortune part of fame and fortune.
In the softest places of my soul, however, I acknowledge that I would like to be famous.
I don’t want fame for its own sake; I think even modest fame would be alarming. I am more like Emily Dickinson in that regard, deeply uncomfortable in the spotlight, happiest when I am in the background, especially if I can support others from my place just off-stage.
I have already found that promoting myself is exhausting in a bone-deep way, and seeing photos and videos of myself, over and over and over, makes me cringe. Paulo Coelho says, “Writing is a socially acceptable form of getting naked in public,” and that is less metaphor and more reality, in my brief experience with very modest notoriety. As my readership grows, I am deeply gratified, and I feel as though I am spending more and more time “naked in public.”
Which is disconcerting.
To say the least.
Photo by paologallophoto (text added)
On the other hand, I do want people to read my book. Correction: I want them to love my book. I want the characters and the story arcs to speak to the reader, to engender laughter and tears and a recognition of what it might feel like to be someone else.
In other words, I remain ambivalent.
If no one reads my words, I am invisible. (As a woman of a certain age, that feeling is familiar, and definitely unwelcome).
If many people read my words, I am exposed—naked in public.
In the throes of my ambivalence, I have to keep going back to the crux of the matter. I don’t write for fame or fortune, or even as a pleasant hobby. (The near-permanent crick in my neck from hunching over my laptop attests to the fact that writing is an obsession, not a pastime).
I am compelled to write,
because writing is for me a way of communicating,
a way of making sense of what is,
and imagining what could be.
And so, with or without fame, with or without fortune, I will continue to use my words to attempt to uncover shared truths until all the words aching to emerge have been midwifed into the world, for better or for worse, with or without New York Times accolades.
But if someone offers me a spot on the NYT bestseller list, I’ll take it.
Two Over Easy All Day Long News
Write Now Interview. What a pleasure to interview with Gayle Heney, the award-winning producer and host of the TV series "Write Now," through HC Media in Haverhill, Massachusetts!
Heney is a former North Andover 2-term Poet Laureate, the editor of the poetry anthology "Songs from the Castle’s Remains," "Leaf Sorrow Tree Strong," and the co-editor of "Soulmates." Her poems have appeared in "Moments Falling Open," "Methuen Life," "The Underground Movement," and elsewhere. Heney has taught poetry at the Peabody Essex Museum, libraries, senior centers, schools, Essex Art Center, Rolling Ridge Conference Center, Salem Arts Festivals, retirement communities, Cape Ann Museum, MA Poetry’s Student Day of Poetry, and MA Poetry Festivals.
Watch the interview live-streaming on HC Media, or on YouTube here
(Side note: The comment above about seeing myself onscreen and cringing? I could only watch this once!)
BookTree Author Panel in Kirkland, Washington. It was an honor and a gift to join Micah Briarmoon, author of A Haunting Deception, and Paul Hunter, author of Untaming the Valley, at BookTree in Kirkland, Washington, to share our books with an encouraging and supportive audience.
Thank you to Chris Jarmick and BookTree for the wonderful event!
Meet the Author at Bookery Manchester in Manchester, New Hampshire, November 16, 2024 at 2:00 pm.
More information here https://www.bookerymht.com/our-events
Book Clubs. My favorite way to engage! I’m meeting with a book club this week, with more in the future. If you’d like me to join your book club, don’t hesitate to reach out: sharilaneauthor@gmail.com.
Reviews
My heart is oh so glad when a reader tells me the book made her weep and then chuckle through her tears. Then along comes another review, lukewarm at best, and those gossamer wings upon which my heart fluttered crumple and crash.
A professional reviewer recently called Two Over Easy All Day Long “a comic novel with a heart” and “a quirky murder mystery with a wonderful sense of place.” Sigh. Humor is the leaven to the tragedy that gives rise to the protagonist’s story, certainly, but the book was never intended to be “comic.” Or a murder mystery, for that matter (though I did try to channel the wonderful Louise Penny when including a smidge of mystery in the book). I understand that stories touch each of us in different ways, and one person’s favorite is another person’s meh. But oh! how I’m tempted to declare (with a melodramatic flourish of an antique fountain pen): That’s it, I shall never write another word!
The next day, a different review restores my self-confidence (which lately seems to hide, trembling, in a dark corner): “It's a Wonderful Life,” the review is titled. “Very engaging novel with light and dark, humor and pathos. Memorable, endearing characters and unusual yet believable life situations. If this novel were adapted to film it might have been directed by Frank Capra or Preston Sturges. Highly recommended.” 5 Star Amazon review by Honoria Glossop.
It’s a Wonderful Life remains one of my all time favorite movies, in spite of the obvious problems with some of the scenes, because, as the reviewer says, it encompasses light and dark, humor and pathos. Knowing another reader saw that in Two Over Easy All Day Long, I am content—for now.
Book Review
(Setting aside self-absorption as distraction, and returning to my former promise to provide interesting tidbits that are NOT about me or my writing . . .)
Unsheltered, by Barbara Kingsolver (Harper Perennial 2019).
If you subscribe to this newsletter, you already know I swoon over almost everything by Kingsolver. I was unaware of this book until recently, and I’m only about a quarter of the way through, but already I can tell this is destined to be another favorite. The story follows two families facing disaster in the same house, in different centuries. Both families have adhered to all the rules for success, only to be thwarted by an unholy mix of bad luck and ideological clashes. As with all Kingsolver books, the characters are riveting, funny, odd, and heartbreaking, and their stories speak to universal truths of modern life.
An excerpt:
”Everybody has their theory, but it looks like China’s economy has peaked.”
His or her theory, Willa did not say, swallowing the powerful impulse toward correction that made for first-rate editors and insufferable human beings. “Look at you two guys. The most optimistic people I know, shaking down the subject of doom.”
“Not doom, Mom,” Zeke said. “Crisis is opportunity.”
It felt surreal, watching her family bicker about abstract catastrophe under an actual collapsing roof . . . . Zeke embodied the contradiction of his generation: jaded about the fate of the world, idealistic about personal prospects. A house built on youth’s easy courage. And Tig in her way was also brave, dissecting the world as she saw it, believing her strategies mattered. In a world of people who either let things happen or made them happen, these kids were instigators. Willa felt obsolete.
Excerpted from Unsheltered © 2019 by Barbara Kingsolver.
And now, back to our regularly scheduled free-floating election anxiety:
PLEASE VOTE!
Fall
A paean to autumn, Two Over Easy All Day Long news, book reviews, and Art Corner.
Autumn on Bywater Farm in Beavercreek, Oregon
Others may talk of spring, “When proud-pied April, dressed in all his trim/Hath put a spirit of youth in everything,”[1] or the wealth of being “rich . . . in sunny hours and summer days,”[2] but autumn is by far my favorite season.
According to the Monell Center, “that brisk, crisp, slightly sharp smell we associate with autumn is actually the smell of leaves, trees, and plants dying and rotting.”[3] The article goes on to explain, “The memories we associate with the change of seasons are what make it pleasurable, even when many of us are allergic to moldy leaves and burning wood.”
I won’t let that sadly unpoetic description (yes, I meant “unpoetic” — “prosaic” doesn’t satisfactorily describe my disgust at bringing allergies and mold and death into it) dampen my ardor for fall.
O Autumn, How do I love thee? Let me count the ways:
. . . The wild burst of color in the leaves, even in the Pacific Northwest, that declares to the world I LIVE even as death creeps inevitably near . . .
. . . The return to school, with its promise of new ideas and knowledge—so far, I’ve attended school for twenty-one of my years on this earth, and taught in various positions for still more years, and the thrill of a new school year has never dimmed . . .
And, to bring my own banal and pedestrian element into it:
. . . Sweaters to hide the wrinkles and other indignities that come with age.
Yes, we in the US have a highly contentious election coming up, and yes, a new variant of Covid appears to be surging, with flu season tittering in the wings, and yes, climate change and wars and famine remain existential threats to us all.
Still I will celebrate the heady aromas and new adventures heralded by September.
Care to join me?
Two Over Easy All Day Long News
Meet the Author event at Bloomsbury Books in Ashland, Oregon
10/7/2024 7:00 pmMeet the Author event at Bookery Manchester in Manchester, New Hampshire
11/16/2024, 2:00 pm. Invitation and RSVPA new YouTube video taking a shot at describing the genre of Two Over Easy All Day Long. (On the new video: Getting Better All the Time, as the song goes, but it’s still A Long and Winding Road - I hope the Beatles who are still alive forgive me for using their lyrics to excuse my lack of skill in videography)
Book Reviews
Attica Locke’s Bluebird, Bluebird (Mulholland Books 2018)
This book has everything I ask for from a book: a page-turner mystery with danger and red-herrings galore, complex and beautifully written characters, tangled family histories and traumas, and musings on being human (among other themes the book explores race relations in Texas, and the difficulty of sustaining an intimate relationship when two people feel love but want very different lives).
Locke just came out with the third book in this series, Guide Me Home. I stumbled upon an interview with Jami Attenberg about the latest book, and decided to start at the beginning of the series.
Highly recommended!
M. Stone Mayer’s Ashes to Ashes (Three Towers Press 2024)
Mayer is a fellow alum from the Northwestern School of Law of Lewis & Clark College, and it is a pleasure to promote his debut novel!
A fast-paced thriller, Ashes to Ashes follows Will Mercer, a former Army ranger, who wakes on a sandbar in the Oregon wilderness, unable to remember who he is. More importantly, he can’t remember who his enemies are and why they chased him into the river. It’s a race against time as his pursuers close in. One reviewer said, “Loads of suspense from the beginning...great characters and storyline. Vivid descriptions put you right there in the action...A+!”
The ending leaves open the possibility of a sequel, and I’m sure Mayer’s readers will be looking forward to the next installment.
I’m always looking for the next great read,
so send me an email (or comment below),
and let me know what you’re reading!
Art Corner
When it comes to the visual arts, I have absolutely no talent. During my years as a preschool teacher I attempted, once (and only once) to make my own felt stories. I had to give it up when, after sharing my homemade version of the Rudolph story, one of the children said, “Teacher, what is that?” “A reindeer,” I said, trying to hide my consternation. “Oh,” the precious tot said, “It doesn’t look very much like a reindeer. Are you sure that’s what it is?”
But my lack of talent does not foreclose appreciation for the work of those who do have talent.
In newsletters, on the website, and on the Laughing Dogs website, I’ve waxed ecstatic about the multiple geniuses of my friend Gini Chin: artist, writer, and video-creator. I’ve said it before and will say it again - do yourself a favor and check out her website: https://spot312.com/.
Now I want to highlight another brilliant artist that I have the good fortune to know: Martha Spieker. In Martha’s hands the ordinary becomes magical. I am especially enamored of her Faces series. And the Owls and Other Birds. And Octopuses. And Abstracts. Oh, who am I kidding? I love it all! Please check out her website: https://spiekerart.com/. And if you need more encouragement, take a look at these…
Reaching
Feeding Time
Isaiah
Follow Martha Spieker on Facebook and on Instagram @spiekerart.
Both Gini and Martha have an amazing reputation in the art world
- they don’t need my bumbling praise -
but anything that gets art into more hands and hearts is a good thing.
Ending this Newsletter with George Eliot’s words:
“Is not this a true autumn day? Just the still melancholy that I love
- that makes life and nature harmonise.
The birds are consulting about their migrations,
the trees are putting on the hectic or the pallid hues of decay,
and begin to strew the ground,
that one's very footsteps may not disturb the repose of earth and air,
while they give us a scent that is a perfect anodyne to the restless spirit. Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it,
and if I were a bird I would fly about the Earth
seeking the successive autumns."
~ George Eliot
September sunset over the Salish Sea
Postscript: Yeah, yeah, I know – footnotes? It comes from being a lawyer (and a perennial student, see previous statements). And anyway, attribution matters. I certainly hope if anyone ever decides to quote me they’ll provide full attribution.
[1] Sonnet 98 by William Shakespeare. It should be noted for the purists in the audience that Sonnet 98 is not, in fact, a paean to spring, but rather a description of how the narrator is unable to enjoy the season because his beloved is absent.
[2] Thoreau, Henry David. Walden (1854)
[3] Fallik, Dawn. “Why Do We Love the Way Autumn Smells?” Monell (11/21/2021), available at https://monell.org/whyy-why-do-we-love-the-way-autumn-smells/ (accessed 9/21/2024).
Storytelling: Building Bridges
Here’s to building bridges through storytelling. ’
Image by Cody Hiscox @codyhiscox
I’m giving up on the ironic “so little to share” and will tell you plainly: there’s so much to share! Some of the news follows, but if you want to skip right to the heart of this particular newsletter, and the source of the title Storytelling: Building Bridges, scroll down to the bottom. Better yet, click right on through to this NPR Article.
Otherwise, hold onto your hats for news!
Two Over Easy All Day Long has received new reviews, available on the New Release page. A few of my favorite comments:
Readers’ Favorite gives it 5 Stars and calls it “a deeply moving and thought-provoking read” with themes of “resilience, adaptation, and the transformative power of compassion.”
Reader Tammar Paynter says it is “a very well crafted book, finely plotted and beautifully written,” and says, “After finishing the book, I felt a sense of hope, feeling that growth and change are possible even after tragedy.”
Midwest Book Review says, “Two Over Easy All Day Long is a fun read from start to finish, and an impressive work of literary excellence . . . .”
Literary Titan gives it 4 Stars and calls it “a compelling story” with “richly drawn characters,” “a thought-provoking and heartwarming read that explores themes of accountability, personal growth, and the power of community.”
Reader Heather H says she “loved this well-written, quirky, and captivating book. A highly recommended read that speaks to the power of community, hope, resilience, and transformation.”
There was also a marvelous write-up in the Salish Current by talented writer Gretchen Wing: Lopez Author’s Debut Novel Rooted in People and Place (A quick plug for the Salish Current and for independent local media!)
The book launch party was fabulous! Over sixty wonderful friends and family came, many bringing delicious food to share (potlucks are a favorite tradition here on “my” island). The Friends of the Library introduced themselves and their amazing work in our community, and several library staff and volunteers gave up their Friday evening to share the celebration - “grateful” doesn’t begin to describe it! Last but definitely not least, if you haven’t already listened to the original music Adam Brock shared with us at the party, check it out (and if you have already heard it, well, it’s worth another listen or two or three hundred): At the Library
More readings are scheduled in Friday Harbor, Washington and Bend, Oregon, with others in the works. Keep an eye on the Home Page for advance notice.
There are more updates but for today I’m borrowing
the old Rocky and Bullwinkle cartoons,
or the Monty Python skits (if you prefer):
“And now for something completely different . . .”
Last week, NPR’s All Things Considered covered a story titled, “Abortion can be difficult to talk about. These 14 strangers took it on anyway,” by Maayan Silver (NPR 5/24/2024). Accessed 5/24/2024.
Why on earth would I focus on such a controversial topic in this newsletter?
Because the NPR article gets at the heart of what believe is the last best hope for humanity, and, coincidentally, the reason I write fiction. I believe what this world needs now (more than a refreshing carbonated beverage which shall remain nameless, maybe even more than “love, sweet love,”) is communication, people telling their stories to each other, and listening to each other’s stories, and deciding together that they don’t have to agree politically or religiously to recognize our shared humanity.
I’ve said it before and will say it again, and again, and again: stories build bridges, bridges that span the metaphorical canyons currently dividing us.
The article points out the fourteen participants from wildly different political sides of the abortion issue forged lasting friendships, in spite of their differences, and ends with this paragraph:
“That's how this starts,” says Gardner Mishlove [one of the participants]. “A relationship develops, you get to see someone else's point of view. It challenges you.” She says maybe they only agree on the right color socks to wear, “but that’s a start, right?”
In this time of war (even as we honor those we’ve lost to war), and loss and grief (even as those losses and griefs continue, seemingly unabated), and divisions and broken bridges:
Here’s to Relationships. Here’s to Storytelling. Here’s to Building Bridges.
Tune in next time for more book reviews! Sneak Peek:
“Stories are life lived backward.” The Book of Form and Emptiness, by Ruth Ozeki (Penguin Books 2022)
“When we are paying attention, we see how much holds us invisibly. Love is a bench.” Somehow, by Anne Lamott (Riverhead Books 2024)
So Little to Share
Another good book recommendation (as promised)!
Image by Jon Tyson @jontyson
So little to share, so much time . . .
Strike that, reverse it.
(Fans of the original Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, with Gene Wilder, will recognize a version of that quote. If you don’t recognize it, well, hie thee to a streaming service and watch the movie. Better yet, read the book.)
Image by Zach Ramelan @zachramelon
My wish for you today:
May your time be your own.
At least until
after that first cup of coffee or tea.
For this newsletter, I want to keep my promise to focus on book reviews and recommendations.
Because there’s nothing quite as wonderful as curling up with a good book
(as demonstrated
by our in-house model, here)!
I just finished Cloud Cuckoo Land, by Anthony Doerr (Scribner 2021).
I’m glad I got a heads-up from our bookstore – shout out to Lopez Bookshop! – that it’s a little confusing at first, and I’m oh so glad I persevered, because:
I. LOVE. THIS. BOOK.
Seemingly disparate stories are connected by a mostly illegible ancient manuscript about a man who seeks a city in the clouds and becomes, along the way, a donkey, a fish, and a crow. The characters who interact with the story in the manuscript include a girl living in the future after ecological apocalypse; a boy in the fifteenth century who suffers from prejudices related to his poverty and his cleft lip, and a resourceful girl living in the same era but on the opposite side of a war into which the boy has been conscripted; a disaffected teen who mourns the loss of wildlife to accommodate tourists in a tiny town in modern-day Idaho; and a man who, orphaned at a young age and misunderstood by everyone except the local librarians, is in love with a man he may never see again.
The marvel of this book is that each of the wildly different characters and their wildly different settings is completely credible. Some writers excel at creating sci-fi or fantasy landscapes, some craft beautiful historical fiction, or romance, or coming-of-age stories for young adults. Doerr does it all, in a single book, and made me love and care about every one of the characters.
While I was reading it, I made excuses to go to bed early so I could get back to the book, and when it was over, I heaved a bittersweet sigh because the ending was oh so satisfying but still, sadly, an end.
Favorite Quotes from Cloud Cuckoo Land
“Repository. You know this word? A resting place. A text—a book—is a resting place for the memories of people who have lived before. A way for the memory to stay fixed after the soul has traveled on.”
***
Seymore feels like he used to . . . as though he’s being allowed to glimpse an older and undiluted world, when every barn swallow, every sunset, every storm, pulsed with meaning.
By age seventeen he’d convinced himself that every human was a parasite, captive to the dictates of consumption. But . . . [then] he realizes that the truth is infinitely more complicated, that we are all beautiful even as we are all part of the problem, and that to be a part of the problem is to be human.
(Believe it or not, the photo was taken by my phone, from Watmough Bay.)
In other news . . .
For friends in the Pacific Northwest, the book launch party is coming up! Friday, May 17, 2024, 5:30 – 8:00 pm, at the Lopez Island Library. Bring an egg-dish to the potluck and join the fun!
If you can’t make it to the book launch, join me at the Griffin Bay Bookstore in Friday Harbor on Sunday, May 26, at 2:00. We’re thinking of making a party out of that, too! We’ll either sail over together, or caravan on the ferry, and spend the day in Friday Harbor having brunch, shopping, maybe even take in an evening movie. Email me if you’re interested in taking the trip with us sharilaneauthor@gmail.com.
And on Thursday, July 25, 2024, at 6:30 pm I’ll be at Roundabout Books in Bend, Oregon. Roundabout Books has a unique policy (which I applaud): entry is a $5 ticket or purchase of a book. It doesn’t have to be my book, by the way! The goal is to support independent bookstores, and I can definitely get behind that.
More information about these and other events can be found on the home page of the website www.sharilane.com
Last but not least, another novel I wrote, Jaysus, MooMoo, and the Immortal Woos, was longlisted in the international Stockholm Writers Festival First Five Pages contest. I am truly walking on sunshine…
Sunshine and wildflowers at Iceberg Point
A Good Book
A Good Book - on Reading and Writing and Pigs in Heaven
On Reading and Writing and Pigs in Heaven
I’d like to talk to you about
Barbara Kingsolver’s Pigs in Heaven.
Yes, this is my brand new blog/newsletter on my brand new website launched to support my brand new book, Two Over Easy All Day Long.
But I’ll have plenty of time to talk about that in the coming months, maybe even (if I’m lucky) in the coming years.
I hope so.
For now, I just want to rave about one of my all-time favorite books, by one of my all-time favorite authors.
The quotes below, from Barbara Kingsolver’s Pigs in Heaven, encapsulate beautifully what is possible in a good book.
___________________________________________
Background: Annawake Fourkiller, a newly-minted lawyer, is trying to explain to her boss, Franklin, why she believes the Cherokee child Turtle should be returned to her people, even though Turtle’s white adoptive mother is the only family Turtle knows. Annawake describes how important a sense of belonging is.
“People thought my life was so bleak . . . But I dreamed about the water . . . . All those perch down there you could catch, any time, you know? A world of free breakfast to help get you into another day. I’ve never been without that, have you?”
“No,” he admits. Whether or not he knew it, he was always Cherokee. The fish were down there, for him as much as for Annawake.
“Who’s going to tell that little girl who she is?”
. . . Franklin wears a Seiko watch and looks as Cherokee as Will Rogers or Elvis Presley . . . yet he knows he isn’t white because he can’t think of a single generalization about white people that he knows to be true. He can think of half a dozen about Cherokees.
Later, Annawake tackles Turtle’s adoptive mother, Taylor, who is deeply upset and offended that anyone would try to take her child away.
“There’s a law that gives Tribes the final say over custody of our own children. It’s called the Indian Child Welfare Act. Congress passed it in 1978 because so many Indian kids were being separated from their families and put into non-Indian homes.”
“I don’t understand what that has to do with me.” [Taylor says]
“It’s nothing against you personally, but the law is crucial. What we’ve been through is wholesale removal.”
“Well, that’s the past.”
“This is not General Custer. I’m talking about as recently as the seventies, when you and I were in high school. A third of all our kids were still being taken from their families and adopted into white homes. One out of three.”
. . . “My home doesn’t have anything to do with your tragedy.”
Pigs in Heaven by Barbara Kingsolver (HarperCollins 1993)
___________________________________________
In a few short paragraphs, Kingsolver tackles identity, loss, and the desire for absolution from our ancestors’ sins. Her characters are morally and ethically imperfect, not fully “good” but—like Giles/Tony—“not bad,” and evolving into something better.
(See? I did get in a reference to Two Over Easy All Day Long after all.)
Kingsolver’s stories are full of grace, even when tackling the darkness we humans sometimes fling at each other. And humor, too, which is nothing short of miraculous; to look into the void and find, in addition to hatred and bias and hurt, an infinite well of laughter.
What does that have to do with me?
I’m a writer because I love to read, because ever since I was a child books have touched me, moved me, and, sometimes, changed my mind. I felt as if the authors were speaking directly to me, as if the characters were friends taking me along on their journey, whispering their revelations to me. I knew from the first time I opened a book and the symbols resolved themselves into words that this, this is what I wanted to do—speak through stories. Then and now, it often feels as though stories are my only meaningful form of communication. I often feel a Homer Simpson-ish ‘Doh! over every word I actually speak aloud, certain I’ve said the wrong thing, or failed to say the right thing.
Image by Elena Mozhvilo @miracleday
But when I write, I can test and weigh and sit with the words first, make sure that my words are honest, and sincere, and as often as possible, kind.
When I write, I can paint a verbal picture of how I see the world, and more importantly . . . how I imagine it could be.
The title of this, my inaugural newsletter, is A Good Book. I am, of course, hoping something I’ve written or something I write some day in the future will merit the label: A Good Book.
In the meantime, in the newsletters that follow, I’ll often share what I’m reading, in that elusive search for “A Good Book.”
Barbara Kingsolver’s Pigs in Heaven feels like a great place to start the conversation.
Got a good book to share? Thoughts on Pigs in Heaven?
Drop me a line here, in the Comments,
or send me an email.
