Dear soldiers of story, you little word demons you,

 

I'm still buzzing from a book-club event last night in Kennebunk, Maine. I had the pleasure of sitting in a circle with nearly thirty inquisitive women at a cozy wine bar called Wine House on Main and discussing Before We Say Goodbye. 

 

Betsy, the lovely owner, hosts this get-together once a month, and she pairs wines with each of the characters. I'm telling you, she knows her stuff and puts a ton of thought into it. Naturally, Otis and Rebecca, their sons, and Carmine had wines, but she even found a perfect fit for Amigo, the coyote pup that Otis befriends. What better way to kick off Thanksgiving week than being gifted such a soul-filling experience? How lucky am I?

 

If that weren't enough, I'm also finalizing details on a new contract with my ever-supportive publisher, Lake Union. Seems they love my new story idea, which is a good thing, because I'm already rocking through it and hit ten-thousand words this week. It's gobbledygook that will need countless hours of editing, but that's how these things start. Ultimately, I'm having a flipping ball writing this one, taking chances and breaking free of all boundaries. Please pinch me.

 

And I'm so grateful to you, my dear readers, who encourage me, buy my books, invest in the characters, and spread the word. I've no idea what I've done to deserve you and this life and my friends and family, but I'm exactly where I need to be, where I want to be--doing exactly what my younger self dreamed of.

 

Today, as the holidays open their arms to us, I wish the same of you, truly. May your dreams be coming true. May you feel loved. And may your pain be fleeting. I'd love to hear about it. Just mash the reply button and let loose. 

Check out my latest Substack, in which I discuss what drives me to get my butt into the chair every day, swat away my demons, and chase a new story. Hint: it's because of you. 

 

Writers, you need to know your why.

 

And all of you, what is your why? Please share.

I'm halfway through The God of the Woods, the new one from Liz Moore, who teaches in the MFA program in Creative Writing at Temple. And it's…fantastic. She slaps words around like a boss. Yeah, I just said that. I'm trying to appeal to some of my younger and hipper readers. My twelve-year old would say she's bussin' or lit. It's an intelligent and creepy mystery with some wonderful head-hopping that enriches the story in a big way. I'm hooked.

Hamnet has been on my TBR pile for a while, and with the movie now hitting theaters, I think I'll jump into it next. Have you read it?

Finally, I've begun the dense and brilliant Sacred Derangement by Jason Silva, who is a spirit animal of mine. This is his first book, but he's long been sharing his dazzling mind via short videos he calls Shots of Awe. Here's a great one. He's tapped into the source in a big way, a true international treasure.

 

Instead of little ol' me dumbing down his sizzling prose, let me share a couple of paragraphs from the opening. I refuse to turn to page two, because I keep re-reading this:

 

 

 

Are you kidding me? I'm not following that. So this Boo, saying goodbye. Happy Thanksgiving, amigos. 

P.S. Please forgive me if I don't respond to your emails. Know that I joyfully read each one. Your notes keep me going, but I best put my energy into meeting the next deadline. Thanks for understanding.

Catch up on old newsletters here.