A Fine Week to End Summer
Clif and I both have birthdays in September, and last week our daughters came home to celebrate with us. What a fine week it was! Having them here was the best present of all, and Shannon, who lives in North Carolina, has decided to make a mid-September visit a yearly occasion. Dee, our eldest, could only stay until midweek. It’s always inconvenient when work gets in the way of having fun.
Shannon stayed for the whole week, and as is our way, we filled it with simple pleasures—visiting with friends, going to a lecture on politics, playing a new game that Shannon got for her birthday. The weather was so warm that we could have drinks on the patio nearly every night.
Saturday, Shannon’s last day, was the grand finale. We went to Lakeside Orchard in Manchester for an apple festival.
Then, it was off to the Red Barn for lunch. I had one of their fabulous lobster rolls, and Shannon had a shrimp basket.
The Red Barn supports many charities, and outside a pet rescue organization—can’t remember the name—had a display, complete with dogs and cats. Shannon, a dog lover extraordinaire, couldn’t resist cuddling one of the dogs, a sweet border collie mix named Linda.
After lunch, we went to Hallowell to sit by the Kennebec River.
The river was aflutter with birds. We saw herons—look closely on the left.
From an even greater distance, we saw bald eagles. (Unfortunately, my wee camera doesn’t get good shots of birds, especially when they are far away, but I always try.)
And, of course, there were ducks that—to borrow from my friend Barbara—are plentiful but never common.
On Sunday, I brought Shannon to the bus station to begin the first leg of her journey back to North Carolina. I was so sorry to see her go, but she and her husband, Mike, will be back for Christmas, which isn’t that far away.
Now, it’s time to settle into our routine, to work on getting my YA fantasy, Maya and the Book of Everything, ready for publication.
There’s just one little hitch that will keep me from working for a few days—Clif gave me his cold. It’s just starting today, and I’m getting chores done before the road-kill phase of the cold sets in. Fortunately, Clif’s cold has not been a bad one, and I expect that by the end of the week I will be back on schedule.
Onward and upward!
A Fine Day for a Birthday
Today is my birthday, and I am fifty-nine years old. The sky is blue, the sun is shining, and it is warm, but not too warm. A lovely, lovely day.
Tonight, we’ll be meeting our eldest daughter and a friend for dinner in Brunswick. On Saturday, our youngest daughter will be coming for a week-long visit. And in a couple of months, my YA fantasy, Maya and the Book of Everything, will be published.
What a great way to start my fifty-ninth year sixtieth year!. (Thanks, Lyn LaRochelle, for the correction.)
Because my youngest daughter will be here for a visit, I’ll be taking a break from blogging. (And from editing. Praise be!)
A very happy September to all. I’ll be back at the end of the month.
Buddha and Little Miss
Maya and East Vassalboro, Maine: A Sense of Place in Fantasy
My upcoming book, Maya and the Book of Everything, is a fantasy, and much of the action takes place on a fictional planet called Ilyria as well as in the mysterious Great Library. But some of the novel is set in East Vassalboro, Maine, a real town where my mother lived for over twenty years. I chose East Vassalboro because, through my mother, I came to know it well, and though it be small, East Vassalboro has a keen sense of community.
When Maya and the Book of Everything opens, Maya and her mother, Lily, are on their way to East Vassalboro to spend the summer with Maya’s grandparents—Mémère and Pépère Turcotte. (In another post, I’ll write about Maya’s Franco-American connection.) Maya comes from New York City, and although she loves the city, she also loves the little village of East Vassalboro with its homey charms. 
It has a corner store that smells of oiled floors.
A grange hall, freshly painted inside and out, where there are public suppers, plays, and book sales.
A historical society housed in what was once a school.
A little stream that runs through the center of town.
And most important, a small brick library, surprisingly new. (The old one, a converted cottage, burnt down years ago.)
Why do I use a real village in a fantasy novel? Because it provides a sense of place that grounds the story. From East Vassalboro, Maine, I can move Maya across the universe, but no matter where we might travel, Maya and I always know where home is.
September Blue
Ta-Dah! The Cover for Maya and the Book of Everything
Drum roll, please! The cover is done for my upcoming book Maya and the Book of Everything, and now I can share it. I’m not going to hold back—I am absolutely thrilled with how the cover looks. Really, if my creaky knees allowed, I’d be jumping for joy. Kudos to James T. Egan of Bookfly Design for doing such a great job and for being so good to work with.
Maya and the Book of Everything, a fantasy for readers twelve to adult, will be published in November 2016, and I will definitely keep you posted.
Here is a brief synopsis of the story:
In Maya and the Book of Everything, a not-so-ordinary girl comes into possession of an extraordinary book. The Book of Everything is sentient and, among other things, can provide facts about the past, present, and future. The book and Maya are being pursued by a group that wants to suppress facts and spread lies for its own gain.
Another group, called the League of Librarians, believes that facts do matter, and its mission is to protect the book. From the league, Maya learns about a place called the Great Library, which is where the Book of Everything came from.
In the course of the story, the Book of Everything takes Maya back in time, where she meets a boy named Andy. The book whisks Maya and Andy to another planet, where they become embroiled in a civil war. Will Maya be able to save the Book of Everything? Do facts really matter? And what, exactly, is the Great Library?
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Onward and upward!
Happy Labor Day
In the United States, today is Labor Day, a holiday to celebrate workers, traditionally in jobs that require a fair amount of physical labor. Nowadays, Labor Day weekend is mostly a holiday that signifies the end of summer and the beginning of fall, a time for one last barbecue fling when the weather is still warm enough to enjoy being on the patio or deck. For Mainers, it is a bittersweet weekend, a reminder that the long, cold dark of winter is just around the corner.
But back to Labor Day… My ancestors farmed and worked in factories. They labored, using their hands and bodies. My ancestors certainly weren’t rich, yet I think it’s fair to write that they added a richness to this state and this country.
So here’s to all honest laborers, past and present, who worked so hard, were not always paid fairly, and did not cheat anyone out of anything.
Saugust, If You Will
The calendar has flipped to September, and it’s almost as though the weather knows we are into a new month. Gone are the extreme heat and humidity, and I am certainly happy to see these guests leave. With September’s arrival, we have had warm, dry days and crisp, cool nights. Why, it’s almost like Maine’s August of old, the month we all looked forward to and loved.
But, as I’m fond of saying, in Maine, with climate change, September is the new August—or Saugust, if you will. I guess it’s an ill wind that blows no good. Having an extra month of lovely warm weather is a real bonus for a state known for its long, cold winters that last through March. (In a previous post, I suggested trading March for an extra month of August. However, I’ve changed my mind—let’s have an extra September instead.)
In September, Winthrop sees the first wave of summer people leaving for parts south. The library is quiet, with few cars parked out front. At Norcross Point, where we leave the car to go on our bike rides, there are no boats being launched.
But, oh, the blue of the water and the sky, those puffy white clouds.
September, the month of stars—asters—and apples, where it’s still light enough to sit on the patio at night and have friends over for grilled bread and appetizers. We can wear t-shirts on our bike rides, and we don’t have to wear confining jackets, hats, or gloves.
October, with its chilly beauty, is right around the corner, but I won’t think about that. Instead, I will revel in September, my birth month, and all the good things that it brings.
Up Close and Personal with a Sunflower
Notes From the Hinterland 