Authors (Girls) Just Want to Have Fun
In November, Dr. Lynn Miller and I were at the New Mexico/Arizona Book Awards with our spouses and our matching gold pants, fitting to celebrate this first book awards banquet for me (but not for Lynn). Her novel, The Day After Death, had been a finalist in the LAMBDA awards. My novel, What Survives, had been short-listed for the Santa Fe Writers Project. Both of us learned we were finalists in the NM/AZ awards, but on that night, we didn’t win. I was not unhappy with this, because What Survives, published in 2016, was my first novel. Being shortlisted and then a finalist is no small feat for me. And so, I am hardly a sore loser, especially since the legendary John Nichols, best-known as author of The Milagro Beanfield War, was the winner in my category for The...
Pleasant Encounters: A Great Book Club Session on What Survives
Due to the persistence of a neighbor I had never really met, Ruth Ives (front left in purple), I was invited to a “meet the author” at the Placitas Library book club’s meetings. It was Ruth’s turn to select a book, and I had just met Geri Verble at the Hoot Gallery (see her fabulous jewelry there) where she purchased my novel, What Survives. Geri told Ruth that if she chose my book, I lived right in the neighborhood and probably would agree to come to answer questions. What a smart and lovely group of women! I enjoyed this event immensely. And I did get to meet and speak with Ruth at my Bookworks’ reading for my newest book, Myopia, a memoir, in October. Book Clubs, like most other clubs, can be as stimulating as they can be dull. This one is stellar....
Reading at Bookworks on Oct. 15: A Gift
October 15 was a great reading experience for me upon the Albuquerque debut of Myopia a memoir, where I read chapters from the book, including “An Awfully Hard Man to Kill” and “Lemon Meringue Pie in the Land of Keretaria.” (See photos from the event here.) The audience engaged in some invigorating questions, which is one reason I say Bookworks is a fabulous venue for writers and readers alike. The staff is intelligent, welcoming and supportive, and there is a warm and interested audience. Sadly, so many independent bookstores have vanished. If we wish to keep Bookworks alive and well, we will have to get off our computers and into our cars and actually purchase some books there! They need us as much as we need them. Of course, I want to...
Prizes, Patriotism and Peace
Random Thoughts On Acceptance And Change The first prize I ever won for writing anything was in elementary school. The American flag was the topic. Innocent, and far beyond my immature imaginings, I wrote about what I thought were my father’s feelings for the American flag. As a Russian refugee, his patriotism was both sincere and strong. And even though I won the first prize, my father dismissed the whole event by saying I was too young to write about anything. In many ways, of course, he was absolutely right (but I did have to start somewhere). The next thing I knew, people around me were burning that same flag and wearing it as clothing. Although I didn’t burn flags, or even wear any, for that matter, I did protest and I marched. Civil rights and the...
Puzzling The Storms
When Hurricane Carol hit the Northeast coastline in 1954, I was five years old. My sister was 13. Our house was a sturdy one, built for sea captains and their wives and families in an historical courtyard of similar wooden three-story structures, erected on serious foundations to withstand just such storms and harsh winters. I would be starting school this year, but in those days, school did not begin until after Labor Day, and we were still in summer mode. There were sprinkles of sand in most of my shoes, fresh from long walks by the shore. No one in our courtyard had a garage, and so each family parked their car in front of their home in this horseshoe courtyard, shaded by massive oak and maple trees that had stood solidly for years. They had seemed to me to be...
Precious Sunsets: A Simple Meditation on Friendship, Love and Loss
The sunsets are remarkably breathtaking in Africa and in New Mexico. But sunsets are inevitable wherever we live. No matter how gorgeous, they remind us that another day has passed. We can never do the same day over again unless, of course, we have been snatched up and into the film Groundhog Day. I was reminded of this once again just a few days ago. Four of us, old friends now since my move to New Mexico 17 years ago, were having a reunion/birthday lunch at Farm & Table. There was a soft breeze; the clouds were puffy and dark in places, indicating a possible future rain, a perfect fall day in Albuquerque. The flies were kind enough to leave us pretty much to ourselves until they bombarded us when our dessert arrived. But who could blame them? Because one of...
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