Category Archives: News

To UMO I Went, Where I Gave My Presentation, Threads of Realism in Fantasy

Yesterday, Clif and I went to the University of Maine at Orono, where I gave my presentation Threads of Realism in Fantasy to a class about Franco-Americans and Place.

We got up very early—before breakfast as my mother would have put it. Orono is ninety miles from where we live, and we had to be there by 9 a.m.

As I’ve written previously, public speaking is not my strong point. (Damn it, Jim, I’m a writer, not a speaker.) In the past, I’ve usually had a prepared piece, which I have then proceeded to read. This time, I had resolved not to do that. Even though I had copious notes for my presentation, I was determined to make eye contact with the audience—in this case, the students.

Clif, who is a good speaker, sat in the back of the class so that he could observe me, and he told me I did just fine. I did indeed make eye contact with the students. In fact, I expect the two students who were sitting right in front of me might have wished that I didn’t have my beaming eye on them quite so often.

There were only a few minor mishaps with the presentation—I lost control of my cursor a couple of times—but all in all it went well, and despite being nervous, I enjoyed myself.

When I was done, some of the students asked me questions about how I write. Do I have an outline? Do I write certain scenes, even if they are out of order, as they come to me? No and no. I have a general plot arc in my head, and then I start at the beginning and write straight through. If something I write in chapter twenty impacts chapter one, then I change it in chapter one.

The students seemed surprised that I wrote this way, and they asked the question again, in several different ways. Each time my answer was the same, but I did add that there is no one correct way to write a book—there are different approaches for different writers.

I was asked where they could buy the book, and I mentioned a local bookstore—Bull Moose—as well as on Amazon. One student, bless her, whipped out her smart phone and ordered the book then and there.

The student and I had a little conversation about YA fantasy, and she told me that many fantasy books written for adults just didn’t appeal to her.

“I know what you mean,” I said. “In fantasy stories for adults, there is often too much sex and too much violence. In YA and Middle Reader fantasy, this is kept to a minimum, and the story’s the thing.”

“Yes,” she said. “That’s right.”

After class, the professor, Susan Pinette, invited us to come back to the Franco-American Centre. She had made soup, and she offered to make salad as well.  Would we like to join her for lunch? Would we ever!

How lovely it was to sit around the big table at the Centre and eat delicious lentil, vegetable soup. Being Francos, Susan and I did a lot of chatting and laughing as well as eating. (Susan is the woman at the head of the table.)

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And then Clif took this picture of Susan and me.

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After tea and Susan’s delectable homemade molasses cookies, it was time to go home. It was such a good day, and I was sorry to leave.

But the end of April, there will be a Franco-American Artist gathering at the Centre, where I will probably give a much shortened version of my presentation.

I’m looking forward to going back to Orono.

Fire at the Post Office

img_6194Yesterday, there was a fire at our town’s post office, and the fire was so intense that it gutted the building. All morning the fire raged, and Facebook was full of images and descriptions. This put our little town in an uproar, and Clif and I had a hard time concentrating on anything else.

With that fire and destruction, we have lost an essential part of our town. Despite email, FedEx, and UPS, the postal service is vital to our community—indeed to many communities—and now there is great big burnt shell where the post office once stood.

Many people criticize the U.S Postal Service, complaining of how the federal government can’t do anything right. I beg to disagree. Sure, every once in a while my New Yorker goes missing, or we receive mail that should have gone to someone else. But not very often. Mostly, day in and day out, our mail comes, delivered by conscientious carriers who actually bring the mail to our doorstep when we have a package.

While it does cost money to send letters—still a bargain, as far as I’m concerned—and packages, it doesn’t cost anything for individuals to receive mail. You might even call the U.S Postal Service a common good, a concept that today seems as dated as poodle skirts and saddle shoes. Spending for the common good? Where’s the profit in that?

And while I’m on the subject of the common good, I must praise the firefighters, from our town and from surrounding towns, who put out the fire and stopped it from spreading to other buildings. At town meetings, there is always grousing about how much the fire department costs. Yes, there is a cost. But what would our town be like without it?

Schools, fire departments, libraries, police departments, trash removal all cost money, but they are essential to having a decent society. (I could add other things such as public transportation, too.) The point is not that they cost taxpayers money. The point is, how do we collect the money fairly so that taxes aren’t a burden on those who don’t have much?

The postal service has already sprung into action with a plan for Winthrop’s mail. Working out of Augusta, carriers have already resumed home delivery in Winthrop. For those who had post office boxes or need to pick up packages, they will go to the Manchester post office, in the town next to us. The mail will be delivered, despite the loss of our post office.

Right now, fire marshals are investigating the cause of the fire. I’m hoping it wasn’t arson.

And I expect a new post office will replace the burnt wreckage of the old one. But it will be quite a while before that happens, and, in the meantime, our post office will be sorely missed.

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A Finest Kind of Day at a Great Little Craft Fair

Yesterday, Clif and I were at the Fairfield Craft Fair, and what a wonderful time we had. Although the fair was small, we got so much out of it that I’m still somewhat in a daze.

First of all, we sold quite a few books, and that is always gratifying.  So many, in fact, that people had to come to our table to see the book that everyone was carrying around the fair. (It also helped that we were the only vendor selling books.)

Eleven- and twelve-year-old children were drawn to the book’s cover like bees to honey, as the expression goes. I really can’t take credit for the cover—the praise must go to Bookfly Design, who will most certainly be doing our second book, Library Lost.  For new blog readers, here is what the cover of my current book looks like.

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One little girl was thrilled when I signed her copy of the book, and her face just beamed with pleasure. This is something I will always remember.

Next to us, a woman was selling jewelry. Her twelve-year-old son wanted a copy of the book, and she kindly bought one for him. He immediately read the first two chapters and told me what every writer longs to hear: “Those first two chapters really drew me in,” he said. “I love it when books do that. It always makes me want to read more.”

Music to my ears, that’s for sure! And the woman, who home-schools her son, gave me an excellent tip as to where I could market my book.

A Franco-American woman from Waterville’s South End—a place that is featured in my book—stopped by, and we giggled and reminisced about the South End. I told her how I had woven my own Franco-American heritage in the book, and I ended with, “Let’s face it. How many fantasies feature Franco-Americans from Waterville’s South End? Not many, that’s for sure.”

Laughing, she agreed and bought a copy of the book.

We didn’t sell many cards—I guess customers were drawn to the book—and Clif and I decided that from now on, we are going to focus solely on the book. This is just fine with me. Although I enjoy making cards, it’s not my life’s work, the way Maya and the Book of Everything is. By just focusing on our book, we’ll have the table space for a snazzy slide show of Maya, and I’m looking forward to adding that to our display. (I’ll still take pictures for this blog and continue to send cards to family and friends.)

I’m going to end this post by featuring the young woman who encouraged me to come to this fair. Her name is Sara, and I have known her since she was very young. Sara makes beautiful jewelry—among other things—and her business is called Tooth Fairy Handmade. Here are some pictures of Sara and her jewelry.

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Sara’s jewelry is very reasonably priced and would make a great present for that special someone—mother, daughter, aunt, cousin, or friend.

A Mid-Winter Craft Fair in Fairfield, Maine

Tomorrow, Clif and I will be taking our cards and books to a craft fair in Fairfield at their community center.  A friend recommended this craft fair, and she will be returning with her jewelry for the second time. After the flurry of the holidays, things have quieted down for us, and we are looking forward to being out and about again with our cards and books.

Even the weather is cooperating—a sunny day today and a sunny day is predicted for tomorrow.  Clif said last night, “It’s great not to have to think about clearing snow for the next day or two.”

Indeed it is. Much as we both like winter, clearing all that snow is, shall we say, a bit tiring, especially at our age. So we appreciate the break and the chance to get out on Saturday. (That’s another thing about snowstorms. They keep you pretty close to home.)

Clif even got a chance to take Liam for a walk this morning, something he hasn’t been able to do for some time.

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Onward to the craft fair in Fairfield!

The Line Has Been Crossed: The Women’s March in Augusta, Maine

On Saturday, Clif and I joined 10,000 people in  Augusta, Maine’s sister march of the Women’s March in Washington, DC. Because I am claustrophobic and therefore don’t like large crowds, I knew it would be grueling for me, and in fact I was reluctant to go. But earlier in the week, my friend Judy Johnson convinced me to attend when she said, “I want my warm body to be counted in the crowd.”

Yes, yes! And despite being pressed on all sides by people—something that makes me acutely uncomfortable—I was thrilled to be with the thousands who had come to stand up for women’s rights, children’s rights, men’s rights, and human rights.

Even though the past two months have been grim for progressives, the mood at the Augusta, Maine, march was anything but gloomy. Instead, there was an almost festive air at the gathering at the State Capital.  Judy  observed that there were lots of happy faces, and Clif noted that the event had a Common Ground Country Fair feeling.

Seeing so many good, beautiful, plain people out on a raw, gray January day brought tears to my eyes. There is hope for this country, despite the horrendous feelings and words that were unleashed by this election, where a terrible line has been crossed. These marches, not only in our country but also around the world, were a mighty rebuke to an administration for whom “alternative facts”—otherwise known as lies—are second nature. As one sign at the Augusta march proclaimed: When injustice becomes law, resistance becomes duty.

All ages came to the Augusta march, from babies snug against their mother’s chests or backs to teenagers to young adults to older adults to seniors.  The crowd was so vast that I could barely hear the speeches—a little disappointing—but the main thing, as I was reminded by my friend Paul Johnson, was to be there.

Toward the end of the rally, the sun came out, and on the domed roof of the Capitol, Minerva stood bright and gold against a cerulean sky.  May her wisdom shine on us all.

Scenes from a rally:

Me, taking notes and Paul Johnson, sitting.

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Green peace!

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Yes, we can.

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The crowd.

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In honor of Carrie Fisher.

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Judy and Paul Johnson.

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Minerva, gleaming over us all.

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Storm Update

I just heard from my daughter Shannon, and it seems that where she lives in North Carolina there wasn’t much snow at all—about four inches or so. However, they did get freezing rain, which Mainers hate with a passion.

Many Mainers have very bad memories of the ice storm of ’98, when it seemed as though half the state was without power, and the ice was so thick that the breaking branches in the woods sounded like gunshots. We were without power for nearly two weeks. What a storm!

Anyway, I sure do hope that North Carolina, and indeed all the South, doesn’t have to deal with a storm of that magnitude and destruction.

And may the sun be with them soon.

From a recent ice storm, where, fortunately, we didn't lose our power.
From a recent ice storm, where, fortunately, we didn’t lose our power.

 

Cold Weather and Gifts

This morning, it was -8 degrees. Fahrenheit.  And that, readers, is pretty darned cold. The snow squeaks underfoot, and Liam’s trips to the backyard are mercifully quick. On the calendar, the first day of winter is marked on December 21, but I think it’s safe to write that winter has come early to Maine, as it always does.

Here is what one of the windows looked like when I raised the shades. Most of that frost is on the inside of the window. Dr. Zhivago, anyone?

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Nothing warms up this cold season the way gifts do, and yesterday I received three from my friend Shari, whose creativity never fails to dazzle me.

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Blue is my favorite color, and I love all shades, but lately, for some strange reason, Maya blue has become my special favorite. And, the piece with the driftwood, pottery, and sea glass is none other than Maya blue, which is now an official color.  At least according to me 😉

Thanks so much, Shari. I have found special places to hang the Maya-blue piece with the driftwood. I’ve also found a place for the shell. As for the wee card…we are going to frame that and put it on our bookshelf.

Ho-ho-ho and crunch, crunch, crunch. Christmas gets ever closer, and soon my best beloveds will be wending their way north.

Fingers crossed for good weather next Thursday and Friday.

Maya and Me at D. R. Struck Struck Landscape Nursery

On Saturday, I had a book signing at D.R. Struck Landscape Nursery, and what a delight it was. There is a wonderful gift shop at the nursery, and Robin, one of the owners, has terrific taste. Thus the shop is filled with all sorts of lovely things that are not available anywhere else in the area.

Tucked between three decorated Christmas trees, I felt as though I were in the middle of Christmas, a great place to be. The air smelled of mulled cider and eggnog. People came in—some especially to see me—and I sold a good number of books. I am finding I quite enjoy going out and about, talking to people and selling books. Many thanks to Robin for inviting me to sign books at her shop.

I am so gratified with the initial sales of the books and the early responses. After Christmas, I will be working to get broader exposure. In the meantime, it’s been a very jolly time at the little house in the big woods.

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Bailey Library’s 100th Birthday Celebration

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Last Saturday, while I was selling books at the Winthrop Craft Fair, there was a party going on at the Charles M. Bailey Public Library in honor of its 100th birthday.

I was sorry to miss the party, but I sent Clif with our trusty wee wonder of a camera, and he got some very good shots. Normally, I don’t post this many pictures, but Bailey Library will only turn 100 once, so I’m going to make an exception with this post.

There was a cake, of course, with a picture of our beautiful library,

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a wall of birthday cards,

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and speeches by various friends and supporters.

img_5345Mary Jane Auns, Chair of the Bailey Library Trustees

 Shenna Bellows, our State Senator

img_5353Sarah Fuller, Chair of the Winthrop Town Council

img_5365Paul Cottrell, Treasurer of the Library Trustees

img_5371Richard Fortin, Library Director

img_5376Shane Malcolm Billings, Adult Services Librarian

img_5388Phil Locashio, the Architect for the New Addition

Many people came to celebrate the library’s birthday.

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The festivities ended with a bell concert.

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A very happy birthday, Bailey Library, and thank you, Charles M. Bailey, for giving the the town this magnificent gift.