“Writers, remember: Never underestimate the power of just showing up every single day. I’ve been showing up at the N.Y. office of Penguin Random House every single day for the past three years demanding they give me a book deal. Has it worked? No. Do they have multiple restraining orders against me? Yes. Do I have to wear increasingly elaborate disguises to get into the building? Also yes. But will I give up? Never.” —Carlos Greaves
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A wonderful fall day
Today was pretty much perfect.
I started with a cup of hot tea and a good book. Chatted with M and snuggled with the cats. Then, I made dinner and watched a couple of episodes of the fantastic Britbox TV show “Unforgotten.” Have you seen it? Phenomenal.
Spent the afternoon cleaning up the garden for winter and listening to Stuart McLean stories from “The Vinyl Cafe.”
The oven just dinged, telling me it’s properly pre-heated. So, I’m going to head into the kitchen to put together a pumpkin pie, and then return to my office to do some writing about positive news, death and reading while it bakes.
Once M returns home from his kayaking trip, the darkness falls and the temperatures drop, we’ll turn on the fire and watch a horror movie in honor of Halloween.
In a year of struggles, this was a wonderful fall day.
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15 years ago
In 2009, Marcus and I donned our Renaissance finery and gathered with friends in an old Vermont cemetery to exchange vows. A ghost was my maid of honor. Colored leaves fell softly from the surrounding trees, decorating the gray tombstones like confetti. And a full moon rose into the sky, just as we had planned.
Fifteen years later, we’re still saying “I do, for as long as we both shall live.” No matter how mad the world gets, we have each other.
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Following my passions and reveling in fall
Now that my contract at Apple News has ended, looking for a new gig is taking up a lot of my time. Particularly since I’m determined to find a job that will allow me to use my skills to help make the world a better place.
Until that happens, however, I’m following my passions. I’m reading several books at once and will definitely hit my Goodreads Challenge goal this year.
Much to my husband’s joy — and chagrin — I’m baking a lot. Last week, we indulged in pumpkin pie with a tasty digestive crust and a very dark hot fudge pudding cake with whipped cream and fresh raspberries. Plus, the “Great British Baking Show” is about to return for a new season.
I’ve also been writing like a mad fiend. I started working on a new epistolary novel that may or may not turn out the way I hoped. (Darn you, fiction! Why do you vex me so?)
A Bit of Good News continues to find an audience of readers who yearn for positivity and life-affirming stories.
The End Files launched in June. Seventeen issues later, I’m chuffed to bits to have a place to share my love of fascinating obits and beautiful cemeteries while inspiring healthy discussions about death.
Then, on September 1, I launched The Moonlight Reader Society, a weekly bookish newsletter for readers who often say to themselves: “One more chapter and then I’ll sleep!” You know, bibliophiles like myself. Each issue features book news and videos, interviews with readers, 25-word reviews, polls, literary holidays, writer birthdays and reading quotes. There’s even a calendar of literary events for those who like to attend readings and discussions in person.
This week, I dedicated an entire issue of The Moonlight Reader Society to an important topic: banned books. September 22-28 is Banned Books Week and I wanted to join educators, booksellers and libraries in raising awareness about the issue. If you have a free moment, please give it a read and share it with others.
For those of you who’ve already subscribed to my newsletters, thank you so very much. Your readership means the world to me. All of my publications are free, but if you want to aid my efforts — and can afford to do so — paid subscriptions are only $5/month, or $50/year. Everyone who purchases a subscription will gain full access to the archives and be automatically entered into monthly giveaways for prizes.
I’m also thrilled that autumn is officially here, a time of cool weather, colorful leaves, spooky stories and the arrival of Holiday Jade. If the news is breaking your heart and/or hurting your head, go outside right now. Admire the leaves as they turn, dance and fall. Bid farewell to the birds before they depart on their southern travels. Sip a cup of cider or a pumpkin spice latte. Head to an orchard and pick a few apples for pie. Carve a pumpkin into a mighty Jack o’Lantern or install a graveyard on your front lawn.
This gorgeous season will be gone before you know it. Take it in and enjoy.
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Reading interruptus
Last night, I started reading a new book (“The Spellshop” by Sarah Beth Durst, if you’re curious). I was reclining in my favorite chair in our library and beside me was a stack of books and a hot cup of tea. I was wrapped in a light, burgundy blanket. One black cat, Pepper, was curled up on top of the blanket on my calves. Another black cat, Treacle, was snuggled under the blanket on my lap. The other kitties were sleeping on warming mats, except Chai, who was staring out the open window.
It was 3 a.m. and the house was blissfully quiet.
The book, a hardcover that features the most delightful lilac-colored fore-edge, begins with a librarian and her assistant fleeing for their lives. A revolution had reached the library where they lived and worked, and the rebels had just set the building on fire (eek!). The heroine and her sidekick were in the process of escaping by boat with a mere five crates of rescued books and scrolls when…
I was violently pulled out of the story and attacked by the most dreadful odor. Anyone with a nose would instantly recognize the scent as eau de skunk. Apparently, one was walking past the library window, spotted Chai and let ‘er rip.
For those who don’t know, I have one superpower: a strong sense of smell. I can smell faint whiffs of smoke from miles away. I can time the doneness of bread baking in the oven by its scent. I can smell individual spices in cakes and flavors in teas. But when a strong scent, such as skunk, hits me, it is overwhelmingly awful.
Now, since I no longer have a dog who can be “skunked” — and yes, I’ve had the misfortune of that experience — skunks generally don’t bother me. In fact, I appreciate skunks. Like me, they’re mostly nocturnal and have weak eyesight. They’re black and white, two of my favorite colors. They only get their dander up when they’re bothered; otherwise, they’re fairly mild-tempered. And, they’re useful in the garden because they feed on pests and control the insect population.
But the smell…bloody fuckin’ hell. It filled the room and stuck to the inside of my nose. When I pinched my nose and tried to breathe out of my mouth, the oily stench coated my tongue. My eyes watered from the terribleness of it and my mind filled with one word: FLEE.
Which is exactly what I did. I kicked the kitties off my lap (though they weren’t taken off-guard because they, too, had already been awoken by the smell). I leaped from the chair and slammed the window shut. While holding my breath, I grabbed the teacup and ran to the far side of the house. Wisely, the kitties joined me.
I wish the skunk no harm. Honest. But, please oh please, let the wee beastie find somewhere else to den for winter.
