There and back again (My trip to Dubai)


Planes: four airports and three flights in 28 hours. As Katie succinctly put it, “Some people are nice, some people aren’t.” Enjoyed three hours at Heathrow, especially the shortbread.

First impressions: Hot. Dry. And yet surprisingly green. Traditional Arab dhows along the waterfront port. Construction cranes. Good air-conditioning in both cars and buildings.

Gold & Diamond Souk: Wow. I am not a bling-bling person, but this souk is darned impressive. Jewels in every color and size, many that look just like the ring-pops I buy my kids. Only real. Katie bought her husband a wedding ring. I bought a pair of rosy garnet earrings (pink with little diamonds on top.) My favorite shops were the ones that sold traditional Indian jewelry, the kind brides wear at their weddings. The most stunning gold work, all twisted and coiled and filigreed and no doubt weighing dozens of pounds.

Jumeirah Mosque: The only mosque in Dubai open to non-Muslims. They lead tours several mornings a week. This was one of my favorite parts of the trip. We had a wonderful guide, an engineering student from Dubai Men’s College, who first showed us the washing ritual done outside the mosque before prayers. Inside the mosque, women were asked to cover their hair and then we had a discussion that ranged from the Five Pillars of Islam to Mecca to the purpose of the women covering themselves when outside their home to Ramadan. The mosque is beautiful (“Old, very old” as he put it—28 years, which is very old in Dubai!) and we were encouraged to take pictures. I tried not to flinch when an American asked about Islam and violence, but the young man handled it very well.

Malls: Dubai is famous for its malls, each one bigger and more elaborate than the last. We started out at the Mall of the Emirates, which is famous for Ski Dubai at one end, an indoor ski slope and tubing hill. Nothing like watching women in abayas (the black outer robe) on skies. There’s a grocery story in this mall (including an olive bar, with dozens of kinds of olives, and an elaborate spice area with both ground and whole spices) and our favorite part of this mall was the escalator for shopping carts right in the middle. No steps, just a long slope so you could get your shopping cart up to the next floor. We also spent a little time at Ibn Batutta Mall, which is built around seven different courtyards (Indian, Persian, Egyptian, to name a few) and at the Madinet Souk which, as its name implies, is constructed to look like a very upmarket Arabian souk. And all of this leads inevitably to . . .

Shopping: I did remarkably little shopping in the malls. Okay, I did come out of Ibn Batutta with a pink camel for my daughter. Come on, what 8-year-old girl wouldn’t love a pink camel! But the bulk of my shopping was done in two places, only one of which I’ll mention right here. The Fakih Antiques Museum. (I think. I don’t have any of their bags around any more to check that spelling.) It’s located in construction zone (what part of Dubai isn’t?) and in a group of warehouses that look like, well, warehouses on the outside. The only hint of something special are the enormous wooden doors that are truly antiques and that you can buy if you so desire. You enter the outer doors into a very modern reception area, then you go up two steps, duck to get through a short wooden carved door and voila! You’re in Aladdin’s cave. Or something near to it. Aisles about three feet wide, floor to ceiling shelves, a perfect jumble of boxes and lamps and tourist stuff and silver and shoes and pashminas and tablecloths and framed scorpions and bottled snakes . . . I’ve never had so much fun shopping in my life. We actually went twice. The last day we’d thought of several more things that we had to take home as gifts and so we returned. What are some of the amazing things I found, for myself or others?

Gifts: Embroidered tunics for 6 dollars. Hand-beaded shoes for 20 dollars. Pashminas for anywhere from 10 to, hmmm, I didn’t buy the most expensive ones that went up to 500 dollars. I decided on quantity—5 pashminas as gifts and 4 for myself. Traditional Omani daggers (tourist quality, not sharp) for my boys. An alarm clock that sounds the call to prayer. A little gold genie lamp for my youngest. Jewelry for my daughter. Silk table runner for my mother-in-law. A silk and velvet bedspread for me—only 100 dollars! Truly, it’s a miracle we got everything in our suitcases. And that’s without touching the other great shopping experience . . .

Oman: We spent three days at the Al-Sawadi beach resort in neighboring Oman. What could be better than a beach, a pool, the best massage of my life, a henna tattoo, and all-inclusive food. (Don’t get me started on the dessert bar—I’m hooked on Arabic honey pastries for life!) One night, Katie and I took the free shuttle bus to Muscat, the capital, about an hour away. We were dropped off outside the Mutrah souk, which can trace its history back hundreds of years. Muscat is a beautiful city, situated around a port that the Portugese controlled for some time. There are a series of old forts perched on the mountaintops around the city and we heard the call to prayer from a lovely mosque as we arrived. The souk is amazing—all winding pathways and inlaid ceilings and carved walls. It was here that I most felt foreign. Dubai is crawling with foreigners, but we could go fifteen or twenty minutes in the Mutrah souk as the only white women and the only ones not wearing the abaya and head scarf. We provoked some giggles and stares from passing girls. It was in the souk that I bought perhaps my favorite gift—a singing camel for my 5-year-old. But the bulk of our shopping was done on the promenade, particularly an Indian fabric store. They’ll be talking about us for months—the American ladies who know how to sew and bought meters and meters of Indian raw silk and other gorgeous fabric. It’s sitting in my sewing room right now, just waiting to be turned into gorgeous dresses.

Food: Yummy, both the expensive and the cheap. Cheeseburgers at the Food and Juice Centre in Muscat, chicken with bones at Eat and Drink Restaurant in Dubai, Thai buffet across the water from the famous Burg Hotel, outstanding desserts at the Lime Tree Café, even beef bacon at the beach resort.

Coming home: Long. Exhausting. Topped off by my friend’s missing bag at the end. Glad to report the bag has made its way home and is now in her hands. I would go again. I want to go again, to see how Dubai changes and to visit more of Muscat.

MARCH READS, PART 1

Since I'm shortly to embark on a trip to Dubai (which will include long plane rides, 3 days on the beach in Oman, and a stack of books), I thought I'd get the first 7 books for March out of the way.

HARDSCRABBLE ROAD by Jane Haddam: a Gregor Demarkian mystery. The retired FBI agent is struggling in his personal life and can't quite wrap his head around the oddities of his newest case--a missing homeless man who was accused by a radio personality of procuring drugs for him. Haddam's politics have moved into her books over the years, but they never overtake the story. Her plotting is superb, with corpses turning up where they shouldn't and surprise identifications of said corpses. Recommended series.

MISERY by Stephen King: I picked this up after watching the movie on TV one night. Paul is the popular writer of Misery Chastain, a 19th-century heroine who gets into one romantic scrape after another. Annie Wilkes is Paul's "Number One Fan." When Paul is seriously injured in a car accident in the Colorado mountains, Annie discovers him and takes him to her isolated farm. Crippled by the injuries to his legs, with no phone in the house, trapped with a woman he quickly realizes is insane, Paul must literally write for his life.

WATER LIKE A STONE by Deborah Crombie: Duncan Kincaid/Gemma James series. When Duncan brings Gemma and their boys to spend Christmas with his family in Cheshire, he doesn't expect to walk straight into murder. But his sister, Juliet, has discovered the body of a baby, walled up inside an old barn. Juliet's marriage is falling apart, her daughter is increasingly secretive, and another body is found by Kincaid's son. I love this series, and I loved this entry with its mix of family troubles and outside violence. Crombie is brilliant at getting inside people's heads and I love that about her writing.

RED LEAVES/INTERROGATION by Thomas H. Cook: I'm a fan of Cook, who writes psychological standalone novels. RED LEAVES was on many award lists last year and I agree. When an 8-year-old girl goes missing from her home, her teenage babysitter is suspected. The boy is not easy to love, withdrawn and moody and unmotivated. But could he really have hurt a little girl? The story is told through the father's viewpoint, and he comes to see that not only does he not know his son but he doesn't know all the secrets of his own past. Not an easy read and not an easy ending, but beautiful and compelling and the last chapter is very satisfying. INTERROGATION I read immediately after and didn't like as much. A girl has been killed in the 1950s. A suspect has been arrested. But there's no evidence and they can only hold him twelve more hours. So the police give one more try in interrogating the suspect. The story is complex in spite of that simple set-up, but I found it too relentlessly sad for me. Somehow, even with its dark subject, RED LEAVES left me satisfied. INTERROGATION didn't.

DEATH COMES FOR THE FAT MAN by Reginald Hill: Andy Dalziel is the heart and soul of Mid-Yorkshire. When he's severely injured in a terrorist bombing, Peter Pascoe is on a mission to find out what happened and why. While Dalziel floats above his world in a coma, Pascoe puts himself in harm's way by joining up with the British anti-terrorist officers, one of whom may be the enemy. Behind the complicated cover of a new group of Knights Templar who believe in an eye for an eye (or a head for a head), lies the true mystery which is, of course, personal. An excellent addition to the series and one I'll have to read again soon to savor--I was too busy the first time wondering about the outcome for Dalziel.

PAPER WOMAN by Suzanne Adair: in 1780, Sophie Barton is tired of the continuing war. Courted by a British officer and weary of her life working her father's printing press, the twice-widowed Sophie longs for escape. When her father, a patriot, is killed, Sophie determines to find the killer. From Georgia to Florida to Cuba, from spies to assassins to Creek warriors to mysterious emeralds, the book is an interesting look at the south during the Revolutionary War. At times the setting and history overwhelm the story, and I'm still not sure I entirely understand the wrap-up of the plot.

It's official: I'm going to be published.

Before you all start jumping for the phone to congratulate me and/or ask me for money, let me clarify. It's not a big deal. It's not a book; it's not even fiction.

Last year, a friend in my online writing group posted a link to a contest called "Letters to My Mother". They were soliciting submissions for an anthology entitled the same to come out this year around Mother's Day. Last March for my birthmother's birthday, I wrote a letter telling her the reasons I was grateful she was my mother. With a bit of tweaking, I easily had a suitable submission.

While in Kenya last June, I received an email telling me I was a finalist and should know by the end of September if my entry would be published. Yes, that was indeed six months ago. Welcome to the first lesson of publishing--Patience is a Virtue.

In any case, I got the notification today that my letter will be in the anthology, which should be available shortly. As soon as I have purchasing information, I'll be sure to put up a link.

And I am getting paid for it, the first time I can say that about my writing. Of course, it's all of ten dollars. I figure I might throw caution to the wind and frame the check rather than cash it. Or, as a writer friend suggested, I can scan the check to frame, and then spend it. The best of both worlds!

I'm in mourning.

Our computer died Monday.

It's not an irretrievable loss. I don't feel the need to throw myself on the burning pyre of its remains. My writing still exists, nicely backed up on my laptop. But there are some losses.

The one I'm noticing most at the moment? The loss of my favorites list online. My laptop had a few of my favorite sites, but most everything I've saved for research purposes over the years was on the other computer. Medical sites on neurosyphillis. Medieval Welsh castles. Common poisons. Tudor battles. History of the Welsh longbow. English/Welsh dictionary. Victorian women's education. History of the British police force, including the number of officers in any London station in 1900. WWI trench poetry. Agents and publishers.

Of course I can find them again. I hope. But it doesn't feel the same. I spent hours on that old computer researching those sites. I loved them, and I loved what they represented about my writing. (If my husband ever dies suddenly from monkshood poisoning, I might have a hard time explaining it away.) My favorites list is a peek into my psyche. Maybe not a pretty one, but revealing.

Now I start over.

FEBRUARY 2007 READS

THE THIRTEENTH TALE by Diane Setterfield: Vida Winter is a famous novelist whose life is coming to an end. Margaret Lea is the woman chosen to write Winter's biography. Not an easy task, given that Winter has spent her life making up backgrounds for herself as easily as she made up her stories. A tribute to the best gothic novels, in the tradition of Bronte and du Maurier, this book is a wonderful story of twins, haunted houses, mysterious deaths, mistaken identities, and the power of literature. I didn't see the resolution coming, but it was perfect and supported by everything that came before. I loved, loved, loved this story.

I LOVE EVERYBODY AND OTHER ATROCIOUS LIES/THE IDIOT GIRLS' ACTION-ADVENTURE CLUB by Laurie Notaro: two books of humorous essays about one woman's life. I needed easy reading that would make me laugh, and these books did it. My favorite essay has to be about Jerry, the homeless man who shows up to do yard work for her without tools. His method of bringing down a dead orange tree is to throw himself bodily upon the tree and rip off branches with his bare hands and then kick them when they're down. Her writing is funny and her take on life suits my own skewed sense of humor.

WUTHERING HEIGHTS by Emily Bronte: book club choice. Heathcliff, Cathy, and the Yorkshire moors--I fell in love with this book when I was a teenager and I was glad to see how well it held up for me twenty years later. Though there aren't many likeable characters in this book, the power of the writing and the imagery and the story itself is unique in Victorian novels. Someone said it was poetry masquerading as prose and I agree. Emily Bronte wrote a beautiful book that captures a time and place and people like few writers ever have.

APRIL FOOL'S DAY by Bryce Courtenay: by the writer of THE POWER OF ONE and TANDIA, this is a non-fiction account of his son Damon's life and death. Damon was born with haemophilia and at the age of 17 was infected with HIV from a transfusion. He died of AIDS at 23, on April Fool's Day. Not an easy book to read. I'm glad I did, for it helped me understand things I will never experience, like the constant and increasing pain of a haemophiliac, the crippling of joints as they grow older, and then the terror of a new disease which brings not only physical ruin but social ostracism. The saddest part of the book was when Damon was in the HIV ward in hospital and the boy in the room next to him died all alone because his family wouldn't come see him. My compassion increased in reading this book.

MY COUSIN RACHEL by Daphne du Maurier: I read this so long ago that I couldn't remember the story. I love du Maurier and this is a classic: a young man whose cousin and guardian falls in love in Italy, marries, and then dies after sending several letters that more or less accuse his wife, Rachel, of killing him. Phillip is determined to hate Rachel, but that doesn't last long when she actually shows up in England. At first bewildered, then fascinated, by Rachel, Phillip ends up in love and showering her with gifts. Is it the money Rachel wants? Why has she come to England? And what really happened to her husband? You'll have to read to find out.

CHAOS AND THE POWER OF BREAD

I don't do chaos.

I think that's partly due to my mom. When I was young, I suffered from the same sickness I now see infecting my daughter--what I call "the need to possess many adorable trinkets and keep them all on display even when the shelves are groaning from the weight of them." And don't even get me started on what my drawers used to look like--my mom has a good story there :)

But my mother taught me that important lesson (in both decorating and life)--Less is More.

And that's translated into a love of order, a love of neatness, a love of going to bed each night with every floor in my home picked up and every counter clear. (We'll just ignore the little thing called The Play Room--pretend it's a bigger version of the drawers in my adolescence.)

Last week, my house was in chaos.

We're having new floors installed in several key rooms of our house, including the master bedroom. Which meant furniture and clothing and books and videos had to be crammed into other rooms and for several nights none of us slept upstairs. It also meant long hours of sawing and pounding and dust settling and, well, all sorts of things that qualify as chaos. I had to use my laptop rather than my desktop, I couldn't take a nap (which is important with this lingering mono), and I couldn't watch whatever I wanted on my very own TV in my very own bedroom.

And into the midst of this cacophony came bread, apples, cheese, and one of my best friends. For several hours Tuesday afternoon we settled on one of many couches in the family room, ignored the hammering upstairs, and talked. Her new baby is an angel and slept in my arms almost the whole time. Her daughter and my son played together and generally left us alone. What better Valentine's week treat could there be?

As I've said before--I've got the best friends in the world.

And a loaf of French bread can cure nearly anything.

THINGS I'M EXCITED ABOUT . . .

The groundhog didn't see his shadow

Sun

The reappearance of the mountains after two weeks

My husband's good job

Good schools--and having all four children in school

Good books

New-to-me authors

Hamish MacBeth on DVD

Weekend posse shopping trip to Park City

March trip to Dubai

June trip to Mexico

A whole brand-new day each day in which almost anything might happen!

THINGS I'M TIRED OF . . .

Winter

Below-freezing temperatures

Smog

Snow that won't melt

Mono

Laundry

Cooking

Science fair projects (there is a reason I majored in English!)

My husband traveling

Children indoors all the time (see below-freezing temps above)

Sigh . . .

January 2007 Books

AMONG THE HIDDEN by Margaret Peterson Haddix: a younger YA book about a society where third children are illegal. The first in the Shadow Children series. My boys and I have read them all, but this one remains my favorite. Luke has lived his whole life isolated on a family farm. Then houses are built behind their farm and he makes friends with another third child, Jen. Reckless where Luke is cautious, Jen is determined to change the plight of the shadow children.

A LONG SHADOW/A FALSE MIRROW by Charles Todd: the two most recent in the Inspector Rutledge series. Set in 1920, Ian Rutledge is still haunted by the trenches and the many men who died under his command. I like Rutledge and the feel for post-WWI England and I generally like the involved plots--but the author often hides information near the end so that I often feel thrust outside Rutledge's experience since the writer doesn't share everything Rutledge knows or does. It's a fine line between being coy and cheating and these books are starting to stray into cheating.

THE WELL OF SHADES by Juliet Marillier: my husband had a work friend in Australia send him this third in a trilogy for my Christmas present (it won't be published in the U.S. until May.) Marillier writes historical fantasies, and she delivers a winner in this conclusion to The Bridei Chronicles. Set in Pictish Scotland in about 500 A.D., Marillier has wonderful characters, complex love stories, battles and traitors and a spoiled, psychopathic princess who has no problem killing when life gets boring. Plus the magic of the Druids--what's not to love!

PARDONABLE LIES by Jacqueline Winspear: the third in this 1930's series find Maisie Dobbs trying to prove that a WWI pilot actually died when his plane was shot down more than twelve years before. It's Maisie's most personally difficult case yet, taking her back to France where she served as a nurse and where her first love was taken from her. I love the mood of these books, it feels like you're in a different time and world reading them. Maisie is a sympathetic and strong heroine, one of many English women who were left behind when a generation of young men died.

TOWER OF SILENCE by Sarah Rayne: Secluded Scottish town. Asylum for the criminally insane. Quiet spinster whose childhood was marred by tragedy. When Joanna Savile arrives in Moy with the aim of interviewing its most famous inmate, she sets off a course of events that began with a bloody uprising in India fifty years ago. No one is quite who they seem and connections are everywhere as the story moves back and forth in time. A new-to-me writer, I devoured this book in two days. Not for the faint of heart or those prone to nightmares, but a great story for a winter's afternoon when you just want to be swept away and not think too hard.

BLOOD-DIMMED TIDE by Rennie Airth: John Madden used to be a Scotland Yard Inspector. Now, in the early 1930's, he's a gentleman farmer with a doctor wife and two children. But when he's caught in the search for a missing child, Madden can't keep entirely clear of the subsequent murder investigation. A portrait of England still reeling from one war and verging on the brink of another, I especially enjoyed the German detective who's working on what may be connected cases involving and the delicate negotiations between protecting a British spy and the rise of the Nazis to power.

FREAKONOMICS by Levitt and Dubner: "Morality is how one thinks the world should work. Economics is how the world actually works." A book club read, with titles like "Why do Drug Dealers still Live with their Mothers" and "What do the Ku Klux Klan and Real-estate Agents have in Common?", this economics book barely talks money at all but rather shows thinking beyond the conventional wisdom and opened my mind to a new way (upside down and sideways) of asking questions and gathering information. Recommended.

TWILIGHT/NEW MOON by Stephenie Meyer--a BYU graduate, Meyer woke up one morning from a vivid dream which she promptly wrote down. That scene, of a girl and her vampire boyfriend in a meadow, became the linchpin of her first novel, TWILIGHT. Within six months of that dream, Meyer had written the book, found an agent, and signed a six-figure, multi-book contract. Amazingly, I don't hate her. Mostly because TWILIGHT is a fabulous book. I devoured it. I inhaled it. I dreamt about it and completely forgot I was reading someone's work and just dove into the story itself. Bella Swan doesn't know what's she in for when she moves to Forks, Washington and meets the enigmatic and unearthly beautiful Cullen family. But I can tell you what you're in for if you pick up TWILIGHT and the sequel NEW MOON--storytelling at its best.

ART OF DETECTION by Laurie R. King: I'm a big fan of King's Mary Russell/Sherlock Holmes' novels. Not so much her contemporaries. I picked up this Kate Martinelli police procedural because it involves the death of a Sherlock Holmes fanatic and includes the text of a previously unknown Holmes story. I thought with King crossing lines between her two series that I would enjoy it, but I didn't. It was okay, just not for me. I'll stick to waiting for another Mary Russell.

ELLA MINNOW PEA by Mark Dunn: my brother-in-law recommended this and I'm so glad I finally read it. Ella lives on the fictional island of Nollop, where the villagers revere Nevin Nollop, the creator of the infamous sentence that uses all the letters in the alphabet: "The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog." When letters start to fall from Nollop's statue, the council begins to forbid their use. As the letters disappear from the islanders' vocabulary, they also disappear from the novel. The book is more than a clever exercise--it's also a spirited look at totalitarianism and one girl's fight for freedom of expression.

THE CHRISTMAS SECRET by Anne Perry: a Christmas novella featuring one of Perry's minor characters. Dominic Corde and his wife, Clarice, have come to a quiet Oxfordshire town to take over the parish for three weeks. But when the vicar is found to have never left home at all, the Cordes must sift through a multitude of village secrets to find the one worth killing for.

THERE IS LEARNING IN EVERYTHING

I've been reminded recently of all the many, many things I have still to learn.

Like how to draw a scalene triangle.

The difference between a percentage and a percentile.

Where Muscat, Oman is located. (Nothing like children's homework to make an adult feel stupid!)

But I think I'm drawing closer to learning one lesson, the one I call: IT'S NOT ALL ABOUT ME!

I gave a friend of mine THE SPARROW to read recently and we've had a lively e-mail discussion about the book and especially the main character, Emilio Sandoz. Emilio goes through some horrible events. Emilio's pretty mad about those events. Emilio (a Jesuit priest) has lost his faith in God due to these events.

My friend did not care greatly for Emilio. She thought he took too much to himself, arrogant in assuming that all the bad things that happened were solely from a single decision he made. Emilio, in short, was in dire need of learning IT'S NOT ALL ABOUT ME!

For good and bad, things happen in this world. Children are born, children die, wars are fought, peace is made, jobs are gained and lost, manuscripts don't sell, manuscripts are published and then books don't sell, some people love you and some people dislike you and often it has little to do with you at all.

2006 READING IN REVIEW

I just compiled my list of top-ten mysteries read in 2006 (as oppsed to published in 2006) for DorothyL. It's one of my favorite parts of that listserv--the annual listing of subscribers' favorite mysteries. Sometimes I get great books out of the process, sometimes I look at a list and know from the titles it's not for me.

As I looked back at my record of books read last year, I broke them down into genres, just for the interest of seeing if I'm completely unbalanced in my reading. Lots of people on DorothyL read mysteries almost exclusively. I am not one of them, though they do figure largely.

NON-FICTION: 22

MYSTERY: 46

GENERAL FICTION: 19

YOUNG ADULT FICTION: 15

SCI-FI/FANTASY: 9

Out of 111 books read, there wasn't a simple majority in any category (except that fiction beats non-fiction by a mile.) No surprise there, being the lover of stories that I am. I'm also posting my list of favorite mysteries, though I've included the 3 that were on my preliminary list for the top 10 and had to be cut.

TOMB OF THE GOLDEN BIRD, Elizabeth Peters
THE GHOST ORCHID, Carol Goodman
THE STRANGER HOUSE, Reginald Hill
HALF BROKEN THINGS, Morag Joss
TO THE POWER OF THREE, Laura Lippman
ALL MORTAL FLESH, Julia Spencer-Fleming
WHAT CAME BEFORE HE SHOT HER, Elizabeth George
THE LIGHTHOUSE, P.D. James
THE HEADMASTER'S WIFE, Jane Haddam
ON BEULAH HEIGHT, Reginald Hill
DIALOGUES OF THE DEAD, Reginald Hill
THE CONSTANT GARDENER, John le Carre
NO NIGHT IS TOO LONG, Barbara Vine

But my three favorite books of the year are not on this list. One is historical fiction, one is literary fiction (though I could argue for it being a mystery) and one is loosely sci/fi.

HERE THERE BE DRAGONS, Sharon Kay Penman
POSSESSION, A.S. Byatt
THE SPARROW, Mary Doria Russell

Happy reading to all of you in 2007!

DECEMBER READS


THE RECKONING by Sharon Kay Penman: the last in the 13th-century trilogy of Wales. This one focuses on the grandson of Llewellyn Fawr, Llewellyn ap Gruffydd who is also known as the last true Prince of Wales. He was actually accorded that title during the reign of England's Henry III, but a combination of Welsh infighting, a brother who swung back and forth between loyalty and betrayal, and the simple fact that England had time and money on its side meant that it couldn't last. Llewellyn ap Gruffydd married Simon de Montfort's daughter, lost her in childbirth, then was killed later that year (1282) in a completely random stroke of bad luck. His brother David held off England's Edward I for a time, but was finally betrayed by his own men. Edward I is also known as Longshanks for his unusual height and also as The Hammer of the Scots for his brutal repression of Scotland's rebels. But he honed his strength and vengeance in Wales thirty years earlier and his trial of David was the first time that a rebel was sentenced separately for each offense. Thus David ap Gruffydd, once Edward's close friend, was hung, drawn, and quartered. His daughters (and Llewellyn's single daughter) were sent to convents to live out their lives without fear of having children, and David's young sons were kept imprisoned until their deaths. From the Welsh chronicle, after relating the death of Llewellyn ap Gruffydd near Llanganten on the eleventh day of December: "And then all Wales was cast to the ground."

END IN TEARS by Ruth Rendell: an Inspector Wexford novel from one of my favorite writers. A teenage mother is dead, and when Wexford starts investigating no one's secrets will remain hidden. From the heartless plans of two girls preying upon the hopes of infertile couples to Wexford's own daughter's unusual pregnancy to a fanatically modern police woman who endangers her life in the investigation, Rendell weaves a story that I read in two days. Fabulous characters, tense storytelling, and Inspector Wexford. I couldn't ask for more.

HATESHIP, FRIENDSHIP, COURTSHIP, LOVESHIP, MARRIAGE by Alice Munro: a collection of short stories that I inherited from my birth mother. Not really for me, sorry to say. I liked the first story, which gives its name to the collection, but other than that I found them a bit depressing, a bit "so what?", and a bit not my taste. Okay, a lot not my taste. But they were short :)

COLD GRANITE by Stuart MacBride: a first novel, it got great reviews on DorothyL so I read it. Not for me, I'm afraid. I did read to the end, but I won't be buying anymore by him. It's a police procedural set in Aberdeen and the great strength of the book is the setting--bleak, cold, rainy/snowy, etc. I did feel that I was there. But it wasn't a place I wanted to be. I'm not generally a fan of serial killer books because they're most often boring and cliched. (An exception is DIALOGUES OF THE DEAD by Reginald Hill--I highly recommend that one.) This wasn't only a serial killer book, but a serial killer of children book. And it was very detailed in terms of autopsies and conditions of the bodies and other sorts of things I really don't need. But the worst of the book is that it was relentlessly cheerless. I didn't like any of the characters, except the poor children, and I really don't want to spend any more time with DS Logan McRae.

LIGHT FROM HEAVEN by Jan Karon: could not have gone more different in this next book. The last in the Mitford series, a relentlessly cozy world in which there is no murder, just minor mysteries at most, involving Episcopal priest Father Tim and his writer wife, Cynthia. I believe I've skipped several in the middle, but this isn't a series that requires a lot of attention to detail. It's warm and soft and quick reading and not a bad way to cleanse my palate after the previous book.

THE MURDERED HOUSE by Pierre Magnan: another DorothyL recommendation. I did like this better, but not my favorite of the month. Translated from the French (which might be part of the problem for me, I'm generally not wild about translations), it's set immediately WWI in a small French village. The house of the title has just been inherited by the only surviving member of a family who was massacred there twenty years earlier. A baby at the time, Seraphin becomes obsessed when he learns the details of the murders and winds up tearing down the house stone by stone. Of course there's a mystery about the murders that is eventually solved, but the book focuses on Seraphin and his desire for vengeance. Soon, the three men he has identified as the killers start dying--but he's not the one doing it. Who is anticipating his vengeance and what really happened the night of the massacre? An interesting enough story, until the last chapter which completely lost me. I hate finishing a book feeling confused.

SKELETONS ON THE ZAHARA by Dean King: for our new couples' book club. In 1815, the Connecticut merchant ship Commerce shipwrecked on the west coast of Africa. The crew was taken into slavery and spent months wandering the Sahara. Primarily the story of Captain Riley and his efforts to free himself and what men of his he could, it's a compelling account of the desert and those who lived there nearly two hundred years ago. Eventually freed, Captain Riley wrote an account of his travails that was famous in the 19th century (Abraham Lincoln is said to have loved the book when he was young). Keep a cup of water near you while reading--you will appreciate water as you never have before!

LABYRINTH by Kate Mosse: an impulse buy, it sat on my shelf until mono hit and I needed something fast-paced and interesting. The story of two women--Alice who stumbles upon a significant archaelogical find in southern France by accident (or was it?) and Alais who lived in the early 1200s in the same region. Enters DA VINCI CODE territory with three books and the secret of eternal life, but better written and historically more interesting as it moves back and forth between the two women's stories. Deals heavily with the Cathars in southern France and the Crusade that was launched against them until they were wiped out. (The first Crusade to be preached against Christians.) I recommend it as a good winter break read, or save it for the beach next summer.

WIVES AND DAUGHTERS by Elizabeth Gaskell: a big, fat Victorian novel to sooth my bored and restless mind while I'm lying around. I love Victorian novels, like those of Anthony Trollope, and thought I'd try out Gaskell. A contemporary of Charlotte Bronte (she actually wrote the first biography of Bronte), Gaskell was a wife, mother, and successful novelist in the mid-1850s. This is her last novel, and it actually remains unfinished because it was written in serial form and she died before the end. But it's sufficient to not disappoint. Molly Gibson is the doctor's daughter in a small English town in the 1830s who, in the course of the novel, acquires a stepmother, stepsister, and several suitors. It's a typical Victorian tale of imprudent marriages, deceitful men, twitterpated women, and the celebration of goodness, innocence, and true love. A wonderful way to end the year.

Those of you in Utah have almost certainly heard about the mother and two children killed by a drunk driver on December 24. Cheryl Ceran, 15-year-old Ian and 7-year-old Julianna died in the accident. The remaining family members, Gary and his two children, 19-year-old Clarissa and 12-year-old Caleb, spoke to the Deseret News this week. I'm including a link to the article for two reasons.

First, because I know Clarissa and Caleb. Two years ago I performed in the LDS church presentation of "Savior of the World." During the months of rehearsals, the cast was separated into "families" of between 5-7 members. We were staged together as families and spent lots of time talking during rehearsals. Clarissa and Caleb were in my family. I loved them both from the moment I met them. I knew their mother a little and watched Julianna, 5 at the time, run around the green room during performances while her siblings were on stage.

Second, because I've rarely read a piece filled with more faith and hope and true charity than this one. Gary Ceran says that during the first 24 hours, when they were flooded by more than 500 visitors, he kept wondering who was praying for the young man who was in prison. This is a family I desire to emulate.

I will continue praying for them, especially Clarissa who is a dance major at BYU and whose legs were badly injured in the accident. The link to the story is below.

http://deseretnews.com/dn/view/0,1249,650218223,00.html

What To Say About A Christmas Gift You Don't Like
(Not original to me)

10. Hey! There's a gift!

9. Well, well, well ...

8. Boy, if I had not recently shot up 4 sizes that would've fit.

7. This is perfect for wearing around the basement.

6. Gosh. I hope this never catches fire! It is fire season though. There are lots of unexplained fires.

5. If the dog buries it, I'll be furious!

4. I love it -- but I fear the jealousy it will inspire.

3. Sadly, tomorrow I enter the Federal Witness Protection Program.

2. To think -- I got this the year I vowed to give all my gifts to charity.

And the Number One Thing to say about a Christmas gift you don't like:1. "I really don't deserve this."

THE POST OF WHY

WHY can a five-year-old go from dancing around and perfectly happy to throwing up in the car ten minutes later?

WHY can that five-year-old be holding an open plastic bag and still manage to throw up only on himself?

WHY do I have mono for the third time? Right before Christmas?

WHY did I lock myself out of my cold storage room?

WHY are all the Christmas presents in the cold storage room?

WHY haven't I read a really fabulous book lately? WHY do the ones I've read either confuse me or bore me?

WHY do I not feel the slightest guilt about buying pre-made sugar cookies, ready for my kids to decorate? Am I missing a piece of Mormon mom DNA?

WHY are newborns so intoxicating? WHY am I so lucky to have a brand-new niece (my first!) right before Christmas?

WHY do I love my family so much?

WHY am I as excited for Christmas as my children?

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR!

BOOK CLUB

Last night was my favorite book club meeting of the year, the dinner where we plan what we'll be reading for the year to come. Good food, good friends, lots of good books to anticipate . . . topped off by cheesecake and chocolate!

We're beginning our 8th year as a book club. (By the way, we've been looking for a good name for a long time--any suggestions, please comment!) Fourteen members, five of us original. The first couple of years, we didn't plan more than a month in advance. We calendared who would be hosting a given month, and then the host would have full discretion of what we read. The second year, we assigned themes to each month (YA, mystery, biography, classic) and let the host choose within those themes.

At the end of two years, we needed a radical change. We were reading far too many self-help books, far too many depressing books, and far too many books that made us feel bad about ourselves as mothers. Thus was born our December tradition.

On the first Thursday of December, we meet for dinner. Every member who wishes brings recommendations. We sell our books, much like editorial meetings in a publishing house, and then we vote by secret ballot. The eleven books with the most votes are on our schedule for the next year.

There have been slight modifications to this system over the years. For one, we now ask that every book you recommend be one you have actually read. (This after the disaster of a book that shall remain unnamed which we chose because "it sounded really interesting." It wasn't. It was one of only two books I haven't finished in book club. Both of those books had the word "Red" in the title. Coincidence?) For another, we now limit recommendations to two or three per person. This avoids having those who read more than others dominating the choices. I plead the fifth on whether I am one of those :)

The selling of our books is not for the fainthearted. As we've grown closer to each other, we've grown more outspoken as well. One book that made it on to this year's list (no, I'm not telling which one) I don't like at all. Presenters are peppered with questions and comments. "It sounds like a soap opera." "I don't like science fiction." "What exactly is a changeling?" But it works. Each year we have a wide variety of genres, lengths, and subject matters. We never entirely agree. I don't think there's ever been a book that absolutely everyone loved or detested. (Except for the aforementioned unnameable one with "Red" in the title.) But watching everyone last night, laughing and enjoying themselves and each other, I was struck by how lucky I am to have a group of friends who trust each other so entirely that disagreement is never mistaken for a personal attack. (Okay, so there was the book-throwing incident. But I plead the fifth on that as well.)

Books for 2007:
Among the Hidden—Margaret Peterson Haddix
Freakonomics—Steven Levitt
Wuthering Heights—Emily Bronte
Stolen Child—Keith Donohue
The Chosen—Chaim Potok
Night—Elie Wiesl
Speak--Laurie Halse Anderson
Angus, Thongs, and Full Frontal Snogging—Louise Rennison
The Sparrow—Mary Doria Russell
The Four Feathers—A.E.W. Mason
Beekeeper’s Apprentice—Laurie R. King
Nobody Don’t Love Nobody—Stacey Bess

CHRISTMAS MeMe

I had no idea these fun little information lists were called MeMe's--but it's certainly appropriate. Filling it in makes me feel like I'm four years old waving my hand in the air shouting, "Me! Me! Me! Ask me!" But it makes for an easy blog entry and I love all things Christmas.


1. Egg nog or hot chocolate? Hot chocolate. With whipped cream. Or little marshmallows. Yes, I have very sophisticated tastes.

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree? Wraps. With the same paper everyone else in the house wraps with. My oldest son came to the rescue a few years ago when the second son asked about that coincidence. While my mind was still stuck on "Now what?", the oldest son said, "You don't think Santa can afford wrapping paper for every gift, do you? He uses the wrapping paper at whatever house he's at."

3. Colored lights on tree/house or white? Ah, a true example of marital diplomacy. I'm for colored lights, my husband is for white. So we two trees, one of each. And house lights? Are you kidding? Not as long as my husband holds his current job, in which November and December are his busiest months.

4. Do you hang mistletoe? No, but I'm gonna! Right over my bed :)

5. When do you put your decorations up? Day after Thanksgiving.

6. What is your favorite holiday dish (excluding dessert)? Honeybaked Ham. It's yummy and requires nothing more of me than providing it refrigerator space.

7. Favorite holiday memory as a child: Coming down the stairs every Christmas morning. The tree was in the living room right off the stairs, so my dad made us come down single file with our eyes closed so we could turn to the left and go into the family room and open our stockings first before we saw the tree and presents.

8. How and when did you learn the truth about Santa? What truth? There's a truth? Fingers in my ears: "Nah, nah, nah, nah . . . I'm not listening."

9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve? Mrs. Claus brings us pajamas. (She also wraps with our household gift wrap.)

10. How do you decorate your Christmas tree? Two trees: one white lighted and elegant, with glass angels and silver and blue snowflakes and glittery balls; one color lighted and sentimental, with all the kids' handmade ornaments and olive wood ornaments from my husband's trip to Jerusalem and the felt and plush ornaments made my grandmother that used to hang on my family's tree when I was a little girl.

11. Snow! Love it or dread it? Depends on whether I have to drive in it.

12. Can you ice skate? No. And I don't plan to. Some things should probably not be attempted after the age of 35.

13. Do you remember your favorite gift? As a child: the year I was 12 and my dad gave me pierced earrings. It was his way of giving me permission to get my ears pierced. As an adult: my husband always surprises me with wonderful things. A laptop two years ago. A new cell phone last year. A diamond solitaire pendant on New Year's Eve 2000 (that's close enough to count as Christmas, right?)

14. What's the most important thing about the holidays for you? Watching my children and making people happy.

15. What is your favorite holiday dessert? Pumpkin pie with whipped cream. Trifle. Or the newly-discovered Raspberry Cream Cheese pie that I'm making for Christmas Eve this year.

16. What is your favorite holiday tradition? Opening gifts one at a time on Christmas morning. After watching my 8-year-old daughter tear through her birthday gifts last week in 45 seconds flat, the wisdom of doing one present, one person at a time was reinforced. It makes Christmas last longer, everyone gets to see what the others receive, the giver enjoys the experience of the givee, and we can savor each individual gift.

17. What tops your tree? Both trees are topped by silver, three-dimensional stars.

18. Which do you prefer, giving or receiving? Giving. But I don't mind receiving, either :)

19. What is your favorite Christmas song? For the True Meaning of Christmas: "O Come All Ye Faithful" as sung by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and Welsh tenor Bryn Terfel. Strictly for fun: "The Twelve Days After Christmas."
"The first day after Christmas,
My true love and I had a fight.
And so I chopped
The pear tree down
And burnt it just for spite.
And with a single cartridge
I shot that blasted partridge
My true love, my true love, my true love gave to me."
And on from there, through boiled French hens and gold rings that turn green and one particularly cute drummer.

NOVEMBER READS

CHILDREN OF GOD by Mary Doria Russell: a follow-up to THE SPARROW, which you all should know by now is one of my favorite books ever. In this book, Emilio leaves the priesthood, falls in love, prepares to marry--and ends up back on Alpha Centauri without his consent. Because of the time it takes to travel, more than fifty years have passed by the time he arrives to find that one of the party they thought lost actually survived. Civil war has erupted, the oppressed have become the oppressors, and Emilio struggles for personal redemption in the midst of negotiating a better future. A satisfying conclusion to the characters and story from THE SPARROW.

CURIOUS INCIDENT OF THE DOG IN THE NIGHTTIME by Mark Haddon: I grew curious about this book about after the Salt Lake County Council caused a firestorm by choosing it as a countywide adult book selection. Yes, there is swearing in this book. Yes, there is the f-word. But honestly, after all the criticism I'd read in local papers, I was surprised to find how little it actually appeared. It didn't bother me, and the story itself is quite interesting. Told from the POV of an autistic teenager who finds the body of a dog on his neighbor's lawn. He decides to detect what happened, which leads him into secrets about his own family and a terrifying journey to London. The most compelling part of this book is the look at the world through someone who processes everything differently than I do. I recommend it for that experience.

BLADE OF FORTRIU by Juliet Marillier: my favorite fantasy author, Marillier writes fantasy set in actual historical times and places. This is the second in her trilogy about the Picts in southern Scotland in about 500 A.D. Like all second acts, this one has several different storylines going--from King Bridei who is about to launch an ambitious attack to retake Pictish land from the Dalriadans (Irish) to his most trusted spy, Faolan, whose current job is to deliver a royal bride to a secretive forest leader in order to cement a treaty. The focus is on Faolan and Ana, the bride, and the mysteries they uncover while at her betrothed's court. Marillier has never disappointed me yet, and my only regret in finishing this book is that I'm not Australian, where the third book became available in September. I, alas, shall have to wait until May.

FALLS THE SHADOW by Sharon Kay Penman: the second in the trilogy that began with HERE BE DRAGONS (see last month's reads.) This is primarily the story of Simon de Montfort, the rebel baron who married Henry III's sister, Nell, lived an indecently happy 27 years with her, fathered seven children, and led England into its first serious rebellion for the people's rights. He defended the Magna Carta, demanded that the king be subject to its principles, and believed that rulers were responsible to their subjects. He was also arrogant, unforgiving, inflexible, and unlucky. His rapid rise, capped by the miraculous battle of St. Albans, was succeeded by a dramatic fall, ending with his death at Evesham in battle against the army of Prince Edward, later Edward I. His body was mutilated, his head and limbs hacked off and sent around the country as battle prizes. One son died with him, one was dangerously wounded but later escaped to France, the son who failed to get to his father in time with a relief army never forgave himself. His wife, Nell, held Dover Castle for three months against the king's army before accepting surrender and fleeing to France with her only daughter. I knew next to nothing about Simon de Montfort before reading this book, and now he's one of the men I admire most.

THE DEVIL'S FEATHER by Minette Walters: a Reuters reporter thinks there are links between serial murders in Sierra Leona and Iraq. She suspects a former British soldier and begins researching the story. The day she is set to leave Iraq, she is kidnapped and held for three days. When she is released, she refuses to speak about her capture, fleeing to England where she rents a quiet house in the country to escape the questions of reporters and her parents. But quiet English houses have their own secrets and she's soon thrown into the mystery of an old woman's being left to die in the cold. And what happened to her in Iraq most definitely doesn't stay in Iraq, for some demons cannot be outrun, only outfought. Powerful psychological novel of fear and hostages, though I was mildly disappointed in the very ending which leaves unanswered the question of what really happened to the bad guy.

AMERICAN GOSPEL by Jon Meacham: this book was given to me by a neighbor. I usually avoid all poltical/religious/current events topics, since I deplore rigidity and intolerance. But this non-fiction piece, by the current editor of Newsweek magazine, was a pleasant surprise. Meacham goes back to the founding of America to uncover the Founder's real thoughts and intentions in the separation of church and state. Using contemporary sources, Meacham makes an excellent case for our current society having strayed too far on both sides of the debate of where religion belongs in public life. I enjoyed this thoroughly.

UNDERWORLD/RECALLED TO LIFE/ARMS AND THE WOMEN by Reginald Hill: another orgy of the Dalziel/Pascoe mysteries. Now I'm all caught up with the series, and have to wait until spring for a new one! I definitely prefer Hill's later entries in the series, which get deeper and more complex, both in plot and character. My favorite of these three was ARMS AND THE WOMEN which deals with a threat to Pascoe's wife, Ellie. The police believe it's some bad guy from Pascoe's policing past come to threaten him, so Ellie takes her daughter and retreats to the country at Pascoe's insistence. Unfortunately, Ellie is the true target and she's just put herself straight into the middle of the most dangerous situation of her life. Ending with a killer storm that literally sends a building falling into the sea, I liked it tremendously. Although I still don't like Ellie Pascoe and wish her husband had chosen a wife with more care ;)

HISTORIES OF THE HANGED by David Anderson: I bought this for my husband before our trip to Kenya last June. A history of the British colonization in East Africa, beginning in 1900, and an examination of the events leading up to the Mau Mau rebellion, the most serious and bloody colonial rebellion against Britain in the 20th-century. It helped bring independence to Kenya, but at an awfully high cost in both African lives and British ethics. There's plenty of blame to go around here--from the Mau Mau rebels who killed women and children without compunction to the British justice system which pretty much threw out the concept of rule of law and, well, justice. THE HANGED are those who were executed by colonial courts with occasionally less than circumstantial evidence. No one really comes out looking great, except perhaps Jomo Kenyatta, who endured years of imprisonment before becoming Kenya's first president.

ARTEMIS FOWL AND THE LOST COLONY by Eoin Colfer: I'm an Artemis Fowl fan and I don't apologize :) In this newest installment of the Irish boy genius who used to be a criminal mastermind, Artemis stumbles upon the fact that a lost colony of demons is breaking down and may soon disappear altogether. With the help of Holly Short, Foaly, Butler, and a pretty and equally brilliant 12-year-old girl, Artemis must make a dreadful sacrifice to save the colony. I did not expect the end of this book, was very surprised in a good way (unlike so many of the YA books I've read this year), and can see that Colfer is ready to take a leap with this series. I can't wait until the next one.

I'M GRATEFUL . . .

Because Thanksgiving is over.

Because my kids are back in school. (Yesterday I said to my family, "It's time for you all to get out of my house." My ten-year-old said, "It's our house, too." To which I replied, "Not during school hours it isn't!" This conversation was done in a very loving fashion. Truly.)

Because my house is now decorated for Christmas. I love Christmas trees and Christmas lights and Nativity scenes and snowmen and all the darling crafty things my friend, Angie, makes me because, let's face it, I am her service project.

Because it snowed today and I didn't have to go anywhere.

Because I don't have to think about cooking for another four weeks. (Christmas Eve, to be exact.)

I do not like to cook. I CAN cook. I DO cook, if only because my children just keep waking up every morning hungry again. But I do not like it. I do not enjoy baking. I do not enjoy roasting turkeys. I do not enjoy mashing potatoes. I do enjoy making my family happy and so, since there were no family dinners on offer this year, it was up to me to provide Thanksgiving. Eight days ago, as we talked about the Thanksgiving week ahead, we planned what we would do on Wednesday. Making pies. And pumpkin chocolate chip muffins. And everything else, since we had decided to have our dinner on Wednesday night. (Face it, we're rebels.) Every single child, from the 8th-grade cooking class boy to the kindergartener, said, "I want to help! I want to help!" My reply? "I'm so excited! This will be mom's favorite day ever! Spending all day in the kitchen with my four children helping me do everything!"

The sad part of this story? My 13-year-old said, without missing a beat, "You're being sarcastic."

Yes, I'm a bad, bad mom.

But I try. We did spend Wednesday in the kitchen. They did help make pumpkin pie and sweet potatoes and baste the turkey. I did not lose my temper. The food was yummy. Everyone enjoyed themselves.

I will never be Martha Stewart. I will never be my mother-in-law. My children won't learn from me how to make pie crust or french onion soup or anything more complicated than roasted turkey. My husband will never come home to a three-course meal kept fresh until the moment he walks in the door.

But they magically seem to love me anyway--unless they're all much better actors than I give them credit for.

And that's what I'm most grateful for today.

WELCOME TO THE FAMILY

I have a new sister-in-law. Seeing as I only have one brother, that's quite a big deal! Paul and Kelly Sudweeks were recently married and I couldn't be more delighted to have another woman in our family. She's smart, she's pretty, she's well-read, and she's articulate. In other words, she fits right in. Welcome to our family, Kelly!

PRAISE

Humans like praise.

Writers are human.

Ergo . . .

Praise is a rare commodity for a writer. That's why I had a wonderful day last week when I received praise from someone I've never met. My parents are serving a mission in Nairobi, Kenya and their next-door neighbors are also American missionaries. My parents have copies of some of my writing. They loaned my Tudory alternate-history book to the woman who lived next door. And then she proceeded to write me an e-mail about how she read it in two days and hated having to stop to eat and sleep and work and what an amazing book I'd written and how much she loved the characters and how she cried through the last twenty pages . . . well, is there anything better calculated to win a writer's heart? Okay, if her e-mail had ended with, "I just happen to know a senior editor at Viking or Random House and could I please send this book to so-and-so", that would have been perfect, but I've managed to go this long without finding a single person with publishing connections so it's no great surprise.

I wrote back to her today, and I don't think she'd mind if I share part of it.

"You have no idea how wonderful your email was for me. Praise is few and far between in the writing/publishing business--and so far, praise from the publishing side has not gone beyond "I liked such and such part but it's not quite right for us" or "Here's what you could improve and I'd like to see other writing from you". No one falling over themselves to offer me six figure contracts yet.Still, the kind words make it possible to forget the others: the form letter rejections, the agent who said of this book, "I love the idea but wasn't enthused about the writing" (How's that for a knife to the heart?), or the other agent who said, "It's not historical fiction. Historical fiction is whatmight have happened." (Yes, I thought, this is what might have happened if Anne Boleyn's son had been born! She didn't see it that way.)
So you can see how gratefully I accept any kind words that come my way. I'm not a quitter, fortunately, so this book is still making its slow way through the unfriendly world, as well as some short stories that can't seem to find a home and the early chapters of another book. And I just keep writing. Since I've been a much happier wife and mother in the three years since I began writing, I figure I'll just write until I die and than maybe someone will want to publish it when I'm dead."

Of course, if anyone out there wants to publishing a living author, I'm available.

LINKS

You'll notice (or maybe you won't) a new look to my blog. It's a long story, beginning with the simple fact that I wanted to add links. My friend, Ginger, had links on her blog. So Ginger, I asked, how can I do the same? Turns out she chose a blog template that already had a space for links. I didn't. After playing around with the directions for adding such a space (involving lots of template code and copying and pasting and ending up with the same lack of link space every time) I finally just chose a different template for my blog. One that already had links.

For now, the links are to the blogs of several personal writer friends of mine, all of whom are more prolific in their blogging and/or much funnier than me. This is how much I like these friends and support their writing--that I'm willing to lose my few readers to better bloggers. In future, I'll probably add links to some of my favorite websites, writing or otherwise. Enjoy!

OCTOBER READS

TO THE POWER OF THREE by Laura Lippman: a new-to-me author of a contemporary mystery series. This is a stand-alone novel that was nominated for multiple awards last year. Three girls, best friends for years, are shot in the high school bathroom just weeks before graduation. One is killed, one (the apparent shooter) is in a coma, and one is the only witness to not just what happened but why. And she's not telling everything. A twisty novel that keeps the reader guessing and caring about all three girls right up to the truth of how a friendship ended in blood.

THE GOOSE GIRL by Shannon Hale: A sweet pre-teen fairy tale that I'd never read and thought I should. I liked it okay, but not well enough to be anxious to read her others. I'll put it on Emma's shelf for a few years in the future.

THE END by Lemony Snicket: the 13th entry in The Series of Unfortunate Events, a series we have devoured in our home. The Baudelaire orphans come more or less to the end of their adventures--although the last chapter does send them out into the world again and also leaves some questions frustratingly unanswered. But how can you not like a book that introduces a character named Ishmael in the following way: "Call me Ish," said Ishmael. I've loved this series for its use of language and humor, which continue strong in this final entry.

THE KINGDOM KEEPERS by Ridley Pearson: this was my month for YA books. Jacob asked me to read this one after he did, about mysterious goings-on in Florida's Magic Kingdom. From the Pirates of the Caribbean to Sleeping Beauty's Maleficent, characters are coming to life and starting to affect the real world. A group of kids has to cross over at night to stop them. The real fun of the book is the things the kids get to do alone in the park at night--fight off maniacal puppets in It's a Small World, climb through the dark interior of Space Mountain, learn the tunnel system by which Disney World keeps garbage out of sight. Fun for pre-teens.

ALL MORTAL FLESH by Julia Spencer-Fleming: the fifth in the Claire Fergusson/Russ Van Alstyne mystery series. This is the one I've been waiting for. Episcopal priest Claire and Sheriff Russ are meant for each other--but he has a wife of twenty-five years whom he also loves. When Russ finally confesses his feelings for Claire, his wife Linda throws him out of the house. Shortly after, she's found battered to death in her kitchen. The ensuing investigation is a mess of secrets, personal loyalties, town gossip, and church discipline. Through it all are the real emotions and tangled hearts of two people who have tried to do the right thing. But the book comes back with twists at the end that change everything you think you know--twists that will throw this series in an unpredictable direction. I can't wait!

IT'S JUST ME, GRAMMA by James Roscoe Leard: a memoir of growing up on a small Mississippi farm in the 1920's. The author is my grandfather, though I've never met him. (His daughter, Sandi, was my birthmother.) I naturally loved the book for the personal history and family photos, but it is also a remarkably well-written account of farm life and he has a gift for making things visually clear. I now have a pretty good idea of how to catch fish and eels with a drag line and how to butcher a pig. My grandfather just turned 90 years old and is still writing. (He also has published a book about life as a Marine in WWII South Pacific, and several books of photography.)

THE ART OF THE NOVEL by Henry James: a book I took from Sandi's bookshelf as she lay dying. She wrote her doctorate on Henry James and did a lot of underlining and commenting in the margins of this book. It's a collection of prefaces that James wrote for the reprint of his most famous works. He covers everything from how specific stories came to him to the role of the artist in society to the importance of truth in storytelling. Like most of his work, the reader must pay close attention but it's well worth the effort for the wisdom of one of America's greatest novelists.

HERE BE DRAGONS by Sharon Kay Penman: this is a reprint first published in the 1980's, proving the enduring popularity of historical fiction. This is the first in a trilogy, opening in the late 12th-century and continuing through King John's reign in England and the succession of his young son. When John's illegitimate daughter, Joanna, marries the Welsh prince Llewellyn, she hopes it will be the means of preserving peace between the two men. But history knows better, and Joanna must choose between loyalty to her father and love for her husband. Penman is a brilliant historical novelist and I envy her work. Anyone who loves history, romance, intrigue, or human relationships would do well to read this book. I have the next two on my shelf and can't wait to begin.

WHAT CAME BEFORE HE SHOT HER by Elizabeth George: in George's previous book in the Inspector Lynley series, a main character was shot and killed in what proved to be a random and unplanned crime. George has taken a detour from the series (Lynley doesn't appear at all in this book) and the title expresses it all--she goes back and tells the story of the 12-year-old boy who is eventually arrested for murder. Joel Campbell is the middle of three siblings with a disastrous past: their father was killed by the police, their mother is in a mental institution for the criminally insane, their indifferent grandmother has just left them literally sitting on a doorstep while she catches a plane for Jamaica. Dropped into the arms of an unprepared aunt, the Campbell children are mostly left to fend for themselves. From teenage Vanessa and her disastrous involvement with a street thug to 8-year-old Toby's damaged mental state, the story coalesces around Joel and his attempts to keep his family safe. But he's only 12 and his choices lead him inexorably to Lynley's front doorstep and a murder that will shake George's series to the ground. A hard book to read, but George managed to make me feel for every person in this book and regret the society that helps make criminals out of children.

THE GREAT INFLUENZA by John M. Barry: a book club selection (at my recommendation), this book chronicles the rise of scientific medicine in the early 20th-century and its greatest test--the influenza pandemic of 1918. In 24 weeks in the autumn of 1918, a virulent strain of influenza killed more people than AIDS has killed in 24 years. Estimates now range between 50-100 million people died as WWI was ending. The book is a treatise on how communities react under great stress, on the effects of a pandemic that will almost surely come again, and on the individual efforts of scientists to learn what they could in a race against time. Highly recommended.

5 REASONS I LOVE HALLOWEEN

1. It's the start of my favorite time of year: Thanksgiving, Christmas, early darkness so kids are indoors and reading and going to bed because they have school the next morning . . . ah, autumn.

2. The Great Pumpkin. At our house, the children count out a certain number of pieces of candy and leave the rest for the Great Pumpkin (who brings them each a book in return.) Less candy, more reading. My kind of holiday hero.

3. The Nightmare Before Christmas. "This is Halloween, this is Halloween, Halloween, Halloween . . ."

4. Chocolate. (The Great Pumpkin has to dump all that candy somewhere!)

5. Costumes. I throw a party every year just so I can have an excuse to dress up. No bag ladies or corpses or sumo wrestlers for me--if I'm going to dress up, I'm going to be more glamorous than usual. Apparently, that is a sign of being a Capricorn. "Dignified Capricorns love the royal treatment, so dressing up like Marie Antoinette or King Henry VIII might appeal." Thus claims the following website (for which I'm indebted to my friend, Katie.) Follow the link to find out your zodiac costume fate.

http://horoscopes.aol.com/astrology/halloween-costumes-aries-taurus-gemini

HAPPY HALLOWEEN

IMAGINATION AND ILLUSION

Earlier this week, I heard a great line from the TV show STUDIO 60 ON THE SUNSET STRIP. One of the actresses said: "I have a vivid imagination and I get paid a lot of money for it." My husband said to me: "That's what it is--you have a vivid imagination." To which I replied: "And I haven't been paid one cent for it yet!"

Paid or not, imagination is central to who I am. I have always lived stories in my head. It's nice to find an acceptable outlet for that at last! As I raise my children, there are three traits I most want to instill in them: faith, humor, and imagination. Thus far, I seem to be succeeding with each (child and trait!). My two older boys read lots of fantasy--ERAGON and CIRQUE DU FREAK and PENDRAGON. All of my children make up plays and act out situations with their friends or by themselves. My 7-year-old daughter was frustrated last spring with how slowly I was reading HARRY POTTER AND THE SORCERER'S STONE to her, so she started taking it to bed. She's now started the fifth book in the series, having read the previous four on her own. She has said that she can't wait until she turns 11 and receives her letter to Hogwarts. And do you know, I honestly can't tell if she believes that or not. At 7, I'm not going to ruin it for. She'll be pulled into hard reality soon enough, let her have her months of dreams.

My 10-year-old son has been known to ask "Do you believe in . . ." anything from Lord of the Rings elves to alternate worlds to vampires. I give him my Fox Mulder/X-Files answer: I want to believe.

There's no need to flood me with comments on how I'm deceiving my children, even lying to them. There's no need to give me your opinion on how children need to trust their parents. I am quite confident in my children's ability to hang on to both trust and imagination. After all, I've functioned 37 years in this world without having to be locked up for my own safety--and just maybe my vivid imagination will pay off someday.

As for illusion, that's what people with vivid imaginations create: in words, in images, in stage roles. Last night we saw the film THE ILLUSIONIST about a stage magician in turn of the century Vienna. Illusions abound in the film and the beauty of it was that I believed for two hours in what I experienced on screen. It's a magical, brilliantly-written, subtly-acted film that I highly recommend to anyone with an interest in the very best of what movies can do.

SEPTEMBER READS

CRY THE BELOVED COUNTRY by Alan Paton: Amazingly, I'd missed out on this one until we read it for book club. Having lived in Haiti and been recently in Africa, I was in the perfect frame of mind for this story of a black South African pastor whose son kills the son of white farmer during a robbery. With its distinctive style and structure (including no quotation marks), it took me a while to get into the story. But the story is powerful, a meditation on apartheid South Africa and the responsibility of those who know better to do better. The last section of the book is beautiful and uplifting and I'll keep it on my bookshelf forever.

EXIT LINES and CHILD'S PLAY by Reginald Hill: more Dalziel/Pascoe catch-up books. The first deals with the seemingly-unrelated deaths of three elderly men on the same night. Of course, everything's related in a mystery--at least, in a good mystery. The second is the story of an old, rich woman who dies and leaves her estate to the soldier son who went missing in Italy forty years before. How far will other members of the family go to get their hands on the fortune? And is the man who appears at the funeral really the lost prodigal?

PASTWATCH by Orson Scott Card: a friend lent me this alternate history tale in which a future Earth civilization, on the verge of utter destruction, sends three travelers back in time to make the alterations that will preserve humanity's future. Their key event? Christopher Columbus' arrival in the Caribbean in 1492. Good characters, vivid settings, intricate plot--but somehow, the whole was not as good as the sum of its parts. Not my favorite Card by a long shot.

THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE and WE HAVE ALWAYS LIVED IN THE CASTLE by Shirley Jackson: Jackson is best known for her short story "The Lottery" in which a town draws lots to see who . . . well, if you haven't read it, you really should! I read HILL HOUSE because I'd seen several movie versions and was curious about the source material. It was much more psychological than horror, but I couldn't quite sympathize with Eleanor as the main character. On the other hand, IN THE CASTLE is brilliant: domestic and creepy and innocent and twisted all at once. From the back flap copy: "17-year-old Merricat Blackwood lives on the family estate with her sister Constance and her uncle Julian. Once there were seven Blackwoods--until a fatal dose of arsenic found its way into the sugar bowl. Acquitted of the murders, Constance returned to the big old house, where Merricat protects her from the curiosity and hostility of the villageres. Their days pass in happy isolation until cousin Charles appears. Only Merricat can see the danger, and she must act swiftly to keep Constance from his grasp . . ." A great read for Halloween :)

HALF-BROKEN THINGS by Morag Joss: a new to me British crime writer, this is a stand-alone psychological suspense novel. Again, the back flap copy does the story more justice than I can: "Jean is a house sitter at the end of a dreary career. Steph is nine months pregnant and on the run. And Michael is a thief. Through a mixture of deceit, good luck, and misfortune, these three reluctant, damaged loners have come together at a secluded country home. Living off the manor's riches, tending its grounds and gardens, they leave the outside world far behind them . . . Until the first unexpected visitor arrives." A wonderful writer, a compelling story, but with that sense of seeing a train wreck coming for these people and knowing you can't do anything to stop it. I will read more by Joss.

BIRTH OF BRITAIN by Winston Churchill: in between saving Britain, Churchill wrote about its history. I just read volume one, from the Celts to the Tudors. The writing is lucid and clear and helped make sense of lots of twisted family trees and timelines. I even now have a decent idea of who Alfred the Great was and why he's Great. My only quarrel was with the final chapter on Richard III. An ardent Ricardian myself, I took issue with Churchill's admitting that Thomas More was a biased source, and then going ahead to accept More's Tudor-revisionist history at face value. Other than that, a wonderful book for anyone interested in British history. I will read future volumes.

THE HISTORIAN by Elizabeth Kostova: this manuscript, the author's first, sold at auction for 1.6 million dollars. As jealous as that makes me, I'll freely admit that this is the second time in a year that I've read this book and I enjoyed it just as much the second time through. "To my dear and unfortunate successor . . ." thus begins a story of Dracula, communist Eastern Europe, a teenage girl without a mother who is trying desperately to understand the things her father is hiding from her, a chase through history and old parchments and older churches to save a friend before he becomes undead. I loved this book, far more than Dan Brown's antiquities chase, and I suspect I'll read it again in the future.

IN MEMORY

Sandra Lee Lindsey
March 4, 1942-September 20, 2006

My mother died last week.

Already, I feel the need for a qualifier. Yes, Sandra Lee Lindsey was my mother. She conceived me in Pittsburgh, gave birth to me in Oregon, and took good care of me the nine months in between. But two days after my birth, she signed the papers that relinquished her parental rights and sent me to my own adored family. The family I grew up with, the family I know best, the family who will always and forever be mine.

But that would never have happened--I would never have happened--without Sandi being my mother first. In one of the very first letters she sent me after I located her four years ago, she wrote, "I have always said you were my gift to the world, and the best thing I've ever done."

That's no small praise, considering the brilliant and accomplished woman she was. Over the years, Sandi acquired a bachelor's, master's, and doctorate in English. She taught college English and writing for fifteen years. After that came a master's degree in Theology, including a semester spent at Notre Dame. At the age of 57, she received her Juris Doctorate from Lewis and Clark Law School in Portland, Oregon.

The first week of law school in 1995, Sandi was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis. Her graduation four years later was the last time she walked. By the time I met her in 2002, she was mostly confined to bed with occasional forays in a wheelchair. She endured years of crippling pain, surgeries and hospitalizations with grace and optimism. Until this last year, she never talked about "if" she would walk again, it was always "when."

She was hospitalized this summer with pneumonia, where doctors discovered she had rheumatoid lung disease. It's a terminal complication of her illness, with no treatment except comfort care. I've made the twelve-hour drive to Portland three times in the last six weeks--once to take her four grandchildren to see her one last time, once to bid her goodbye as she started drifting quickly away, and a week ago to speak at her funeral.

I've returned home with a trunk full of books, papers, notes from the classes she taught, her dissertation, both masters' theses, letters, pictures, and journals. Sandi is gone, but she lives in me and in my children and in generations yet to come.

Thank you for my life, Mother.

August Reads

TO DARKNESS AND TO DEATH by Julia Spencer-Fleming: the fourth in the mystery series featuring Clare, an Anglican priest, and Russ Van Alstyne, the married police chief she feels more than polite friendship for. Spencer-Fleming did something unique with this book--it takes place entirely within one day. An heiress has gone missing in the November woods. Hunters and search and rescue are on the lookout for her, while the foundation she has willed her family's land to is wondering if she'll return in time for the night's signing ceremony at the local resort. Spencer-Fleming deals with enviromentalism, logging, hunting, kidnapping, and corporate greed without going overboard on any one element or pushing a particular moral conclusion. Still, this was not my favorite of the series. I was a bit too aware of the artificial, which is to say fictional, structure of this mystery-in-a-day. But I like the characters and I'm eagerly awaiting the next in the series.

NEGOTIATING WITH THE DEAD by Margaret Atwood: the subtitle is "A writer on writing." I love Atwood's novels, particularly ALIAS GRACE and THE BLIND ASSASSIN, and I liked this book. Rather than a traditional how-to-write or this-is-how-I-write book, Atwood deals with rather more ephemeral questions about writers and art. Chapter headings include "Orientation: who do you think you are?", "Dedication: Apollo vs. Mammon, at whose altar should the writer worship?", and "Communion: the eternal triangle--the writer, the reader, and the book as go-between".

THE DARK BACKWARD by Julia Buckley: a contemporary mystery/thriller that opens with a compelling prologue in which police officer Lily Caldwell sees the face of her attempted killer during the few minutes that she is clinically dead. After losing her job and her husband over her stubborn refusal to drop it, Lily is threatened again when new evidence arises against the man she believes killed her partner and tried to kill her--the governor. I would have liked the setting to be more detailed and grounded, rather than just the generic "Capitol City", but Lily is a fiesty and memorable character against which some of the other characters, unfortunately, are not as fully realized.

AN APRIL SHROUD, A PINCH OF SNUFF, and A KILLING KINDNESS by Reginald Hill: three of the earlier entries in the Dalziel/Pascoe mystery series set in Yorkshire. Having come upon this series late in the game, I'm catching up a few at a time and thoroughly enjoying each outing of these memorable policemen. Hill writes wonderful characters and tricky plots and it's not knocking these books to say that he has gotten better and better over the years.

THE STRANGER HOUSE by Reginald Hill: a recent stand-alone from the Dalziel/Pascoe author, this book was utterly brilliant. The Stranger House in question is a guesthouse in Northern England which finds two determined researchers on its doorstep on the same weekend. Sam Flood is a take-no-prisoners mathematical genius from Australia who's trying to find out how her 13-year-old grandmother came to be pregnant years ago in this village and then shipped out to the nuns in Sydney. Miguel is a Spanish almost-monk who has just lost his calling to the priesthood and, while waiting to see what God wants him to do next, continues his research into the Elizabethan persecution of Continental priests. The plot is intricate, winding its way from past to present until Sam and Miguel find their stories are part of the same whole. Stunning, beautiful, absolutely recommended.

SONS OF DESTINY by Darren Shan: I've covered this pretty well in my entry on endings. Loved this YA series about a half-vampire boy and the vampire/vampaneze war waged on the edges of our own world, but hated the ending of the series. The author pulled the rug out in the last chapter of this book and ruined an otherwise great series for me.

THE VIRGIN OF SMALL PLAINS by Nancy Pickard: read this after numerous recommendations on DorothyL and I'll be forever grateful that I did. Seventeen years ago, in the midst of a Kansas blizzard, a young woman is found dead in the snow. Since then, the grave of the unidentified girl has become a place of pilgrimage for the ill and suffering. But who is she? What happened the night of her death? Why did 17-year-old Mitch Newquist leave home the next day? What secret are the town judge, sheriff, and doctor hiding? When Mitch returns home suddenly, long-silent questions are asked and long-hidden secrets are revealed, leading up to the truth about the Virgin of Small Plains. An absorbing book that I finished in almost one reading. Highly recommended.

NO NIGHT IS TOO LONG by Barbara Vine: I thought I'd read everything by Vine/Rendell, but found this little gem and devoured it whole. Behind his quiet, unremarkable life, Tim Cornish hides a dreadful secret: he killed a man. Or did he? As Tim writes out his confession, we begin to suspect that not everything is as it seems. A beautiful little novel with wonderful structure that will keep the reader guessing about the outcome until the very last page.

THE SPARROW by Mary Doria Russell: this may just take over POSSESSION as my favorite book of, well, ever. In the year 2019, a message in music is received from the Alpha Centauri system. Without fanfare or notice, the Jesuits send their own exploratory party: four priests, a doctor and her husband, an engineer, and a computer expert. In 2059, the sole survivor of the expedition has returned to earth accused of terrible crimes. A novel of friendship, love, exploration, wonder, fear, and faith--if you shrug aside this book because it's found in the science fiction section, you'll be missing out on a experience that cannot be duplicated. Read it!

WHY MYSTERIES?

Why do I read them, why do I write them?

The second question is the most easily answered--I write what I like to read. I've been a fan of mysteries since my childhood, beginning with the inimitable titian-haired sleuth, Nancy Drew. Also the Hardy Boys, Trixie Belden, Cherry Ames, the Bobbsey Twins and, when I'd devoured those, I moved on to Agatha Christie.

But the turning point in my love affair with mysteries was my senior year of college. For my senior seminar, I chose The Mystery Novel. We read far and wide across the genre. I read Dame Agatha and Ross McDonald and Ellery Queen. I was introduced to the historical mystery with Ellis Peters and Anne Perry. I fell in love with Peter Wimsey and his Harriet in BUSMAN'S HONEYMOON. I met John le Carre through THE SPY WHO CAME IN FROM THE COLD. I felt the delicious creepiness of Henry James' TURN OF THE SCREW and threw myself into 19th-century Russia in Dostoyevsky's CRIME AND PUNISHMENT.

Last night, I dug out a paper I wrote for that class, most impressively titled "Moral Complexity in the Mystery Novel." I had hoped to find some profound line or paragraph, something I could use as a springboard for this post, but I'm afraid what I discovered is that, when I was in college, I wrote like I was in college. Not bad, you understand--I did get an A on the paper--but nothing terribly insightful or original. So I'm left to my own devices to explain why I read mysteries.

I read mysteries for the characters. The inherent tensions in a criminal investigation goes a long way to revealing characters--and character. I'm not a puzzle fan. I don't read for the intellectual element of trying to figure out what happened. I read to find out why and how it effects those involved. I read for motivation and resolution and judgment and mercy. I don't require happy endings--only satisfying ones. An ending in which loose ends have been collected and unanswered questions are rare.

An ending, in short, which only exists in fiction.

JULY READS

WIDE SARGASSO SEA by Jean Rhys: a re-read for book club. It’s the story of Bertha Antoinette Mason, the mad wife in the attic from JANE EYRE. Part I is her childhood in the West Indies, with a dangerously unstable mother and personal poverty. Part II is the story of her marriage to Rochester, the well-blooded but unmoneyed Englishman who’s been lied to about his intended bride and her family. Part III is a brief look at the events in JANE EYRE through Antoinette’s eyes. I love this book, probably even more this time than when I first read it in college. It changed the way I read all books—now I’m always aware of the untold stories hovering behind the corner of every book I read.

GREGOR AND THE MARKS OF SECRET by Suzanne Collins: the fourth in the Overlander YA series. Jacob’s a big fan, and I’ve followed right along with him. In this installment, Gregor gets swept along as Luaxa tries to discover what’s happening to the Underland’s mice population. By the time the book ends, war is no longer threatening but at the very doorstep of the human’s kingdom in the Underland. A well-realized fantasy, with unique features and compelling characters. Can’t wait for the next one.

BIRDS OF A FEATHER by Jacqueline Winspear: the second in the Maisie Dobbs mystery series, set in 1930 in a London that is still dealing with the devastating effects of WWI. The mystery of three dead women leads Maisie back into the early days of the war—the “feather” referenced in the title is the white feather that some women handed out to men in England who were not in uniform, a mark of cowardice and a means of trying to guilt them into the military. I love Maisie herself and Winspear is a master of setting, class, and characters of the time-period. I’d love to do half as well as she has done in this series.

CHARLIE BONE AND THE HIDDEN KING by Jenny Nimmo: another YA fantasy, about children in England endowed with gifts as diverse as calling up storms, talking to animals, and learning about people by touching clothing. This is the fifth in the series and Charlie Bone, whose father disappeared when he was a baby, is dealing with other crises in his home. From his mother’s bewitchment by a sorcerer to his grandmother being frozen and left in the bathtub until they can figure out to thaw her, Charlie and his friends search for the Red King himself, who has spent a thousand years in the form of a tree. Not as good as Harry Potter, but intriguing enough to have kept me reading thus far.

PAST POISONS edited by Maxim Jakubowski: a collection of mystery short stories, all historical. I read it for obvious purposes. There were several standouts, including Anne Perry’s tale of Scotland’s Queen Gruoch, also known as Lady MacBeth. A pleasant way to spend research time and see what can be accomplished in the short form of historical mysteries.

DECLARE by Tim Powers: A book I picked up on recommendations from DorothyL. In 1963, Andrew Hale is 40-year-old English tutor at Cambridge. But one phone call pulls him back into the world of British Intelligence which he served throughout WWII, ending on Mount Ararat in 1948 with the death of a team he’d led up the mountain to kill a colony of djinn. A combination spy thriller/paranormal story, with the real-world figure of British double agent Kim Philby playing a key role, I loved everything about this book. This is a fabulous, fabulous book that I would recommend to anyone.

PEACE LIKE A RIVER by Leif Enger: a bestseller upon publication in 2001, this is still a popular book-club choice (which is why I read it.) Eleven-year-old Reuben Land is the narrator and, as he calls it, the witness of his father’s miracles. This book has everything: a shooting that may or may not have been self-defense, a little sister who writes epic Western ballads about a cowboy named Sunny Sundown, a father who performs actual miracles, a posse searching the Dakota Badlands in the middle of winter, and a penultimate chapter that left me in tears. Highly recommended.

Titles and Friendships

I have the best circle of friends in the world. Women who are my sisters in every sense but blood . . . and being adopted, I don't rate blood all that highly. We are known amongst ourselves and to our significant others as The Bluestocking Posse.

I've never had friendships that merited a title before. The posse bit came first. One night, one of the husbands said, with a tinge of awe and/or fear in his voice: "They're like a gang!" We thought gang didn't have quite the connotations that we as women of wit and elegance were going for, so we chose posse instead. A posse of six, ready to ride at the drop of a hat and the sheriff's call. To bring in dinner, to decorate houses in celebration, to attend funerals and lend books and make costumes and watch children and show up uninvited with candy and shoulders ready to be cried on.

Bluestocking was my contribution to the title. Several years ago, my neighbor e-mailed my husband with a definition from one of those word-of-the-day calendars. "Bluestocking: a woman of intellectual or literary interests." As the neighbor said in his e-mail: "That's Laura." I am not immune to flattery and I can think of worse "B" words to be called. Thinking of myself as a bluestocking was a balm against long suburban days of homework and laundry and piano practice. It gave me permission to take my literary interests seriously, both reading and writing. And I thought it sounded really cool in connection with posse--and so the title was set.

Naming my first book was much harder. For a long time I called it LAMENTATION without being entirely happy about it. Then one day I was reading the Book of Common Prayer, 1662 edition, doing research into the Anglican service for the dead. There's a beautiful passage that reads: "I held my tongue and spake nothing, I kept silence; yea, even from good words, and it was pain and grief to me." From that, a title was born--KEPT SILENCE.

The best titles, like the best friendships, are magical, hinting at the depths to be found if one is brave enough to open the cover. My titles, like my books, may never be counted among the best.

But my friendships are.