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You and your true love are bound to be hungry after re-creating your personal environment. Author Ailene Eberhard has the perfect solution for hungry lovers in her cookbook, The Passionate Palate: A Celebration of Love and Food. As Eberhard says in her introduction, “nothing fans the fires of love like good food that is lovingly prepared and served with affection.” Divided into the seasons of the year, this delicious collection includes over 20 menus and nearly 150 easy-to-follow recipes for sumptuous meals guaranteed to woo the one you love. In addition to cooking instructions, Eberhard also includes advice and tips on how to bring fun and sensuality into your love life. Each section has a list of seasonal “Aphrodisiacs to Enhance Your Love Life.” Did you know that tomatoes are considered “love apples”? Or that seaweed will bring more lust to your lovemaking?

You and your true love are bound to be hungry after re-creating your personal environment. Author Ailene Eberhard has the perfect solution for hungry lovers in her cookbook, The Passionate Palate: A Celebration of Love and Food. As Eberhard says in her introduction, "nothing fans…

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STARRED REVIEW

June 2021

Canon fire

The best literary adaptations preserve what we love while elaborating on unanswered questions. These 2021 novels add deeper dimension to some of our favorite literary classics.
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It is a brave and ambitious project to write the backstory of Nick Carraway, the narrator of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s American classic, The Great Gatsby, but that is what Michael Farris Smith does in his sixth novel, Nick. One of Smith’s most compelling insights is that many of the high-flying men partying through the Roaring ’20s, as depicted in Fitzgerald’s great novel, had only recently returned from the harrowing trench warfare of the First World War. “Shell shock,” “battle fatigue” and PTSD were poorly understood at that time and often simply dismissed as cowardice. In previous novels, Smith has written eloquently and sometimes in excruciating detail about masculine brutality and trauma. He does so again in Nick.

The novel opens with Nick at a cafe in Paris on leave from the war. When he meets and falls in love with a destitute artist, he debates going AWOL and staying with his beloved, but he is Minnesota born, the son of a small-town hardware store owner and a deeply depressed mother, and he knows where his duty lies. His return to the trenches is vividly depicted: Smith’s descriptions of warfare are cinematic, chilling and unforgettable.

At war’s end, Nick searches Paris for his love but is unable to find her. He is among the last soldiers to return to America, clearly traumatized and unable to go back to Minnesota. Instead he travels to New Orleans and winds up in the city’s notorious red-light district, where a bond with a fellow scarred soldier offers enough redemption for Nick to return home to recover, then travel on to East Egg and his meeting with Gatsby.

This is just an outline of a deeper investigation of war and its consequences. In style and theme, this Nick will remind readers of another Nick: the character Nick Adams of Ernest Hemingway’s best short stories.

It is a brave and ambitious project to write the backstory of Nick Carraway, the narrator of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s American classic, The Great Gatsby, but that is what Michael Farris Smith does in his sixth novel, Nick.
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Such is Jane Austen’s brilliance that our obsession with Pride and Prejudice has hardly ceased over the two centuries since its publication. Along with Austen’s ahead-of-her-time ingenuity in creating characters, some might say that her mastery of subplots is what has kept readers talking and wondering for centuries.

Take, for instance, the mystery around Mr. Darcy’s cousin Anne de Bourgh. What we know about her from Austen’s novel is that she was sickly, had an ungodly inheritance and (much to our relief) never ends up marrying Mr. Darcy, as had been arranged since their births. But isn’t there so much more we have wished to know about her?

Enter Molly Greeley’s novel The Heiress, an entertaining elaboration to satisfy generations of readers who have wondered and theorized about Anne. In perfectly Austenesque style, Greeley reveals the backstory of the Rosings Park heiress and just what made her so sickly, so interesting and so complicated.

Anne begins life as a colicky baby, and with a doctor’s recommendation, her mother, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, gives baby Anne opium-heavy laudanum to calm her down. This leads to an addiction that weakens Anne and leaves her in a constant daze, as readers will remember in Pride and Prejudice. But Anne comes to a rare moment of clarity in her late 20s when she questions if her fragility and illness are truly real. Desperate to find out, she flees to London to stay with her cousin Colonel John Fitzwilliam. It’s a move so bold that it paves the path for other bold and unexpected decisions to follow.

Keen observations about society and strong supporting characters make The Heiress a perfectly joyful read.

Enter Molly Greeley’s novel The Heiress, an entertaining elaboration to satisfy generations of readers who have wondered and theorized about Anne de Bourgh. In perfectly Austenesque style, Greeley reveals the backstory of the Rosings Park heiress and just what made her so sickly, so interesting and so complicated.

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Since 2016, Hogarth Press has enlisted well-known writers, including Margaret Atwood and Jeanette Winterson, to reinvent Shakespeare’s best-known plays for a modern readership. Editor Dahlia Adler undertakes a similar project in That Way Madness Lies, but the re-imagined versions here take the form of short stories, and the resulting anthology’s intended readership is teens.

Adler notes in her introduction that “to say Shakespeare did not do marginalized people any favors is an understatement; many of us still live with the effects of his caricatures and common story lines today.” With this anthology, she intends to correct that imbalance. The bestselling and award-winning YA authors gathered here “have deconstructed and reconstructed an inarguably brilliant but very white and very straight canon,” giving Shakespeare the same treatment Edgar Allan Poe received in Adler’s previous anthology, His Hideous Heart.

Some stories include an accompanying note that illuminates the author’s approach. Patrice Caldwell explains that Hamlet’s gothic overtones led her to recast Hamlet as female (and Hamlet’s uncle as a vampire), while Adler’s own story seeks to reclaim the figure of Shylock from The Merchant of Venice’s anti-Semitism. Caldwell isn’t the only writer to give her story a bit of supernatural flair either; Lindsay Smith’s exploration of Julius Caesar incorporates witchcraft and dark sacrifices.

The contributors take varying liberties with their source material. A.R. Capetta and Cory McCarthy’s “Some Other Metal” is set in a theater, but their version of Much Ado About Nothing applies a queer, science fiction approach to the romance at its center. Kiersten White’s “Partying Is Such Sweet Sorrow” recounts the plot of Romeo and Juliet through text messages but remains (for the most part) faithful to the spirit of the original. On the other hand, some stories—such as Emily Wibberley and Austin Siegemund-Broka’s “Severe Weather Warning”—conceal their Shakespearean roots so deeply as to be almost unrecognizable without the aid of context and some winking allusions. (Their story contains a cat named Ariel.)

The majority of the stories stand capably on their own merits but will be enriched by familiarity with—or better yet, reading alongside—Shakespeare’s original plays and sonnets. Budding writers may even be inspired to put their own spins on the Bard of Avon’s timeless tales. 

Since 2016, Hogarth Press has enlisted well-known writers, including Margaret Atwood and Jeanette Winterson, to reinvent Shakespeare’s best-known plays for a modern readership. Editor Dahlia Adler undertakes a similar project in That Way Madness Lies, but the re-imagined versions here take the form of short stories, and the resulting anthology’s intended readership is teens.

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Adapting classic works of literature is always challenging, not least because the adapting author must decide how much novelty is appropriate. Too much and fans will shun it out of pique; too little and they’ll shun it out of disinterest. This dilemma is only heightened when the book in question is as widely read as F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby. And yet, in The Chosen and the Beautiful, Nghi Vo perfectly strikes that balance of the new and the familiar.

Retold from the perspective of Daisy Buchanan’s best friend, amateur golfer Jordan Baker—here recharacterized as a wealthy Louisville missionary family’s adopted Vietnamese daughter—the familiar contours of Fitzgerald’s tragedy are warped with a hazy dash of demonic and earthly magic. The result is an utterly captivating series of speakeasies, back-seat trysts, parties both grand and intimate and romances both magical and mundane, all spiraling through a miasma of Prohibition-era jingoism and entitlement toward its inevitably tragic conclusion.


ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Summer reading 2021: 9 books to soak in this season


Vo is a remarkable writer whose talent for reviving Fitzgerald’s style of prose is reminiscent of Susanna Clarke channeling Jane Austen in Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell. But it is Vo’s additions to Gatsby’s original plot that truly shine. By foregrounding Jordan’s and Daisy’s perspectives rather than Nick’s, she recasts a story about the consequences of male overreach as one about the limitations of female and non-white agency. This is further complicated by Jordan’s inability to remember anything of her childhood in Vietnam before she was brought to Kentucky. She sees herself as American, the daughter of the Louisville Bakers, but neither her white peers nor the Vietnamese immigrants she meets agree with her. 

For both Jordan and Daisy, magic can offer some surcease, but only to a point. In the first scene of the book, for instance, when the two women go flying through Daisy’s house with a magic charm, they must return demurely to the couch when Daisy’s husband comes home. Throughout the book, the women’s choices are constrained by those of the men surrounding them. Even magic, whether a charm, an enchantment or a potion (which are always consumed as cocktails), can only win them a brief reprieve from the decisions others make for and about them.


ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Nghi Vo on the dangers of Hemingway.


In this alternate America, the fear of demons is consistently paralleled with the fear of immigrants. Magic is unavoidable in Vo’s West and East Egg, but although it may be consumed by those at the center of American society, it emanates from those at its periphery. To its consumers and connoisseurs, it is valuable precisely because it is foreign, while those who create and practice it are ostracized and hated for precisely the same reason. The fetishization of earthbound magics is reminiscent of the real-world fascination with traditions like folk medicine, and even demoniac, the psychotropic beverage derived from demon’s blood that several characters drink, could represent any number of exoticized vices prized by the American wealthy. There are lessons here for those of us living in the mundane reality of the 21st century, just as there are in Jordan’s commentary on the ways her agency is constrained as a Vietnamese American woman.

The Chosen and the Beautiful, like the novel it retells, is as much a tragedy as it is a social commentary. The reader will likely know how Daisy’s story ends, but Jordan is in the spotlight here, and her story is just as captivating, if not more so. By putting her in the foreground, and highlighting the voice among Fitzgerald’s core characters that was the least heard, Vo has transformed The Great Gatsby utterly.

Nghi Vo perfectly balances the new and the familiar in her magical adaptation of The Great Gatsby.

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Recent Features

STARRED REVIEW

June 2021

Canon fire

The best literary adaptations preserve what we love while elaborating on unanswered questions. These 2021 novels add…
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STARRED REVIEW

June 2021

14 unexpected book club picks

Is your book club in a rut? Liven things up with one of these eminently discussable titles that aren’t your typical reading group picks.
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It’s hard to know where an artist’s persona ends and her art begins, and this has never been truer than in the case of the mysteriously disappeared Kim Lord, the central figure in Maria Hummel’s spellbinding new novel, Still Lives. It’s also somewhat true of Hummel herself: The award-winning poet (her collection House and Fire won the APR/Honickman Prize in 2013 for best first book) worked at the perpetually cash-strapped Museum of Contemporary Art in Los Angeles, and her novel’s protagonist, Maggie Richter, finds herself in a similar job at a similarly underfunded museum.

When Lord goes missing on the biggest night of her life—an A-list museum opening featuring her photographs, in which she portrays famous murder victims—speculation runs wild. Is it a publicity stunt? Or are more serious forces at foot? When Maggie’s ex-boyfriend (now Lord’s lover) falls under suspicion, Maggie’s journalistic instincts kick in, taking her places the cops can’t go and unwittingly putting her life in peril.

No doubt comparisons to Raymond Chandler’s best work will rain down upon Still Lives, dotted as it is with trenchant observations of LA and the human condition. Like Chandler, Hummel is capable of limning out a ripping yarn replete with high fashion, high finance and high society. These are the mean streets through which our heroine travels, though slightly removed from the glitter and the nastiness. And not unlike another master of the mystery, Erle Stanley Gardner, Hummel includes an intellectually satisfying Perry Mason moment that also provides an interesting twist.

It would be damning with faint praise to call Still Lives a contender for best beach read of the year—like calling Pablo Picasso a really good painter—but Still Lives is both that and so much more.

Thane Tierney lives in Inglewood, California, and is a member in good standing at several American and international museums.

This article was originally published in the June 2018 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Comparisons to Raymond Chandler’s best work will rain down upon Still Lives, dotted as it is with trenchant observations of LA and the human condition.
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The Russian émigré is not uncommon in modern fiction. Generally, said immigrant comes to the states and cultural misunderstandings abound—plus feelings of displacement, pathos, yada yada—until a reckoning in which America and the émigré come to terms with each other and are both better for it. But what do you get when more than two decades after arrival in America, the young immigrant has to go back? You get Keith Gessen’s sad, funny and altogether winning novel, A Terrible Country.

Thirty-three-year-old Andrei Kaplan is stuck in a rut. His life is small, his New York City sublet is smaller, and he was just dumped by his girlfriend at a Starbucks. So when Andrei’s shady older brother, an aspiring kleptocrat living in Moscow, asks Andrei to return to the land of his birth and take care of their ailing grandmother, he agrees.

But Andrei, who left Russia when he was 8, is surprised to find himself in Putin’s Russia, where espressos are outrageously priced, the KGB has merely changed initials, and everyone is grasping for riches with both hands.

So Andrei cares for his grandmother, plays pickup hockey games and teaches online courses while waiting to go back to the U.S. It’s a lonely, hermetic existence—his lone attempt to experience the Moscow nightlife ends with a pistol whipping—until he meets Yulia, who is attractive, mysterious and a communist. Drawn into Yulia’s world of clandestine meetings and anti-government protests, Andrei grows closer to both her and Russia, and decides he will stay in the country. But taking on Putin’s government becomes all too real, and Andrei discovers the hard way that his choices affect not just his life but also those of his new friends.

Gessen is the author of the novel All the Sad Young Literary Men and an editor of popular literary magazine n+1. Like his protagonist, he moved to the United States from Russia as a child. His first novel in 10 years is a compassionate, soulful read that avoids dourness by being surprisingly funny. A Terrible Country shows us that while you certainly can go home again, it often turns out to be a lousy idea.

 

This article was originally published in the July 2018 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

What do you get when more than two decades after arrival in America, the young immigrant has to go back? You get Keith Gessen’s sad, funny and altogether winning novel, A Terrible Country.
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It seems that more and more books, films and TV shows feature relationships between mothers and children who despise each other and seek each other’s slow death. In Zoje Stage’s debut novel, you can’t blame put-upon Suzette Jensen for wanting to be free from her monstrous daughter, Hanna. Indeed, by page five you’re praying for the little horror to eat it in the worst way possible.

What’s less clear is why Hanna hates her mother so much. What could Suzette have possibly done to Hanna, 7 years old when our tale opens, to fill her with such psychotic rage? On top of this, Hanna’s dad, Alex, is so love-blinded that he refuses to see how utterly atrocious Hanna is.

Soon enough, it becomes clear there is no answer, for Stage’s real subject is the conundrum of evil itself. There’s simply no reason for loving, gentle, organic veggie-eating, granola-crunching progressive parents who live in an eco-friendly house to produce something like Hanna. For these two benighted bobos to wonder where they went wrong as parents is as ridiculous as Cesar Millan wondering why he can’t bring the werewolves in Tolkien’s Silmarillion to heel. It’s sad and frustrating to watch the Jensens rush from pillar to post, trying to get other good-hearted folk to help their daughter, when it’s clear there is no hope.

Yet what else can they do with this child whose one and only goal is to kill her mother? What can the reader do? Hanna’s chapters conjure a sickened incredulousness in the reader. Hanna is not so much a character as an abyss; her mind is so warped and inhuman that you even fear for her big, cuddly Swedish bear of a dad. Because of this, her parents’ ultimate solution can be only temporary, as are all “victories” over evil. Don’t be surprised if there’s a sequel to Baby Teeth before long.

It seems that more and more books, films and TV shows feature relationships between mothers and children who despise each other and seek each other’s slow death. In Zoje Stage’s debut novel, you can’t blame put-upon Suzette Jensen for wanting to be free from her monstrous daughter, Hanna. Indeed, by page five you’re praying for the little horror to eat it in the worst way possible.

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Whatever you do, don’t mess with Frances Price. If you’re a waiter, and the “moneyed, striking woman of sixty-five” who is the protagonist of French Exit enters your restaurant, make sure you’re polite to her, or she just might take out her perfume, spritz the centerpiece and set it on fire.

She has nice qualities, too—she gives money to charities and the homeless—but she’s also likely to leave for a ski holiday in Vail rather than contact the authorities when she discovers that her husband, a ruthless litigator, has died of cardiac arrest.

The tabloid scandal caused by her indifference hasn’t stopped her from living an extravagant Manhattan lifestyle since her husband’s death 20 years ago. But enforced austerity is about to begin. Her financial adviser tells her that the money she inherited has run out. Sell everything that isn’t nailed down, he tells her, and begin again.

When an old friend offers her the use of a Paris apartment, Frances reluctantly accepts. Soon, she’s sailing across the Atlantic with Malcolm, her 32-year-old kleptomaniacal “lugubrious toddler” of a son, and Small Frank, an elderly cat she is convinced houses the spirit of her late husband.

Patrick deWitt has great fun with this premise. He populates the story with such characters as Susan, the fiancée Malcolm leaves behind in New York; Madeleine, a medium who can tell when someone is about to die because they look green; and Madame Reynard, an American widow who befriends the Prices because of her fascination with the tabloid scandal.

If French Exit doesn’t always reach the zany heights it strives for, it’s still an entertaining portrait of people who are obsessed with the looming specter of death and who don’t quite feel part of the time they were born into.

 

This article was originally published in the September 2018 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Whatever you do, don’t mess with Frances Price. If you’re a waiter, and the “moneyed, striking woman of sixty-five” who is the protagonist of French Exit enters your restaurant, make sure you’re polite to her, or she just might take out her perfume, spritz the centerpiece and set it on fire.

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Mahit Dzmare, ambassador from the small mining station Lsel to the behemoth Teixcalaan Empire, carries the memories of her late predecessor, Yskandr Aghavn, in her mind. Until those memories are forcefully and inexplicably removed, leaving her abandoned on a world whose people speak in poetic allusions; name themselves after flowers, abstract concepts and sometimes vehicles or appliances; are dealing with a looming war of succession; and want her dead more frequently than is, strictly speaking, healthy. Mahit must navigate this lethal maze and maintain her independence while choosing the right allies to keep her home from being devoured by the ever-hungry Teixcalaanli fleet. And all while searching for a way to regain her connection to Yskandr’s knowledge and guidance without of course, telling anyone she’d ever had such access.

A Memory Called Empire is a political thriller inspired by the Byzantine Empire and featuring plot points reminiscent of “Star Trek: Deep Space Nine”’s Trill symbionts and the linguistic games of Frank Herbert’s Whipping Star. It is science fiction, and is certainly operatic in scope, but calling it a space opera seems like cheating somehow, as if there’s something being left out. Arkady Martine’s prose is an incisive, self-aware blend of tense action and delightful humor. Scenes extolling the virtues of alcohol when forced to praise bad poetry and mocking an otherwise irrelevant character that named themselves after a snowmobile are sprinkled liberally amongst the murder attempts and diplomatic machinations. A Memory Called Empire is dense, packed full of ulterior motives and subplots and beautifully realized characters, but its variety makes it eminently readable.

But the most memorable aspect of Martine’s debut may be the society she has crafted. Teixcalaan is utterly fascinating, its libertine self-image and obsession with art and style mixed with an almost superstitious fear of the human mind. Its veneer of gentility, elegance and enlightenment is profoundly fragile, and all the more precious for it. Smiling with one’s mouth is gauche, but it is also deeply personal. Mastery of allusion and subtext are such clear markers of social and political power that only the highest and the lowest in Teixcalaanli society dare speak plainly. The empire is the center of civilization, surrounded by barbarians who live on space stations and burn and recycle their dead, and yet in times of civil war, its inhabitants commit ritual suicide to earn the favor of gods they don’t quite believe in. They fear the depths of the human psyche, yet live in a city and under the protection of a police force that are both controlled by an artificial intelligence.

Imperial Teixcalaan is a brilliantly realized world of contradictions, and A Memory Called Empire is filled with poets, politicians, spies, soldiers and a thousand degrees of moral ambiguity. Oh, and some of the best names in all of science fiction.

 

ALSO IN BOOKPAGERead our Q&A with Arkady Martine about A Memory Called Empire.

Mahit Dzmare, ambassador from the small mining station Lsel to the behemoth Teixcalaan Empire, carries the memories of her late predecessor, Yskandr Aghavn, in her mind. Until those memories are forcefully and inexplicably removed.

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The Life and Afterlife of Harry Houdini is hardly a typical biography; it’s more like taking an up-close-and-personal tour of the escape artist’s life, narrated not only by author Joe Posnanski in his wonderfully entertaining prose but also by a host of colorful experts whom the author tracks down.

Posnanski says he was drawn to the legendary escape artist because he “sparks so much wonder in the world, even today.” Modern magicians seem to concur that, technically speaking, Houdini wasn’t a particularly good magician. However, crowds were mesmerized by his escapes and were convinced he could do the impossible. The great actress Sarah Bernhardt was so gobsmacked that she asked if Houdini could restore her missing leg.

The truth of the matter is that Houdini was a charismatic, brilliant entertainer who was obsessed with fame. This publicity genius was ruthless against critics and competitors and could not for the life of him ignore an insult. He loved making money but wore tattered clothes, preferring to spend his money on self-promotion, magic books and paraphernalia.

Even today, Houdini “lives on because people will not let him die,” Posnanski writes. He introduces readers to a variety of Houdini’s modern disciples, such as Kristen Johnson, “Lady Houdini,” who says that after she tried her first rope escape, “she felt alive in a whole different way.” Magician David Copperfield takes Posnanski on a tour of his private museum in Las Vegas, discussing his predecessor’s influence. Australian magician Paul Cosentino admits, “I guess . . . he saved my life. Little boys like me, we need Houdini, you know? He’s a symbol of hope.” As Posnanski concludes, “Houdini is not a figure of the past. He is a living, breathing, and modern phenomenon.”

When a talented writer like Posnanski tackles a subject as endlessly fascinating as Harry Houdini, the results are, quite simply, pure magic.

Hardly a typical biography, this book feels like taking an up-close-and-personal tour of the escape artist’s life, as told by author Joe Posnanski in his wonderfully entertaining prose and through the voices of a host of colorful experts he tracks down.

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June 2021

14 unexpected book club picks

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Three Wishes is the story of three best friends who transformed their lives by taking motherhood into their own hands. Carey, Beth, and Pam had succeeded at work but failed at romance, and each resolved to have a baby before time ran out. Just one problem: no men.

Carey took the first bold step towards single motherhood, searching anonymous donor banks until she found the perfect match. What she found was not a father in a vial, but a sort of magic potion. She met a man, fell in love, and got pregnant the old-fashioned way. She passed the vials to Beth, and it happened again. Beth met man, Beth got pregnant. Beth passed the vials to Pam, and the magic struck again. They had setbacks and disappointments, but three women became three families, reveling in the shared joy of love, friendship and never losing hope.

Below, each of them shares their experience of deciding to write the book.
 
Carey
When I turned 39 and made the decision to become a single mother, I started keeping a "Baby Journal" to help me work through all the complex emotions the whole process evoked. In the back of my mind, I thought it might turn into a book one day, but really, I was thinking of it more as a legacy to the child I hoped to have. At one point I even wrote: "If you are a future child of mine reading this, I just want you to know that I really, really tried, in the months and years before making you fatherless, to find you a dad." Later, after Beth and Pam and I shared such amazing luck, I thought: "This is an incredible story. We have to tell it." They say you write the book you need to read; I was doing that, writing just what I would have liked to read as a single woman facing a harsh biological deadline, looking for role models and inspiration.     
 
Beth
When I was 35, my husband left me for a much younger woman, and we were divorced. Suddenly, I found myself losing the future I thought I’d have.  Then I rallied, and made my life better than it had been. But, like Carey, I saw myself turning 40 without a child, and I didn’t want that to happen. It didn’t, but my child didn’t arrived in the way I’d anticipated. My life has had some bumps, but I (generally) remained optimistic, believing that if I was true to myself, pursued my dreams, and had fun, that even the harsh stuff would have a way of tempering itself. Turned out I was right. I wanted to write this book not only because it’s a great story, but because it’s hopeful. I want our story to be read, and shared, and for people to pass it on, saying, "Read this, I found a part of myself in it, and it reminded me that while things aren’t always easy, the hard parts shouldn’t stop me from following my dreams."
 
Pam
Countless times, I told a woman our story and she opened up and shared hers, or said that a girlfriend was in the same situation as we had been: older, alone, desiring love and family. I wished I could talk to that friend, to encourage her to go after what she wanted, on her own, even if there were no guarantees. I personally believed that taking control of my life and preparing for single motherhood was not a zero-sum game where I was forever giving up my chance to fall in love and have a mate, even marry. I had heard all the gloom and doom news and the scary myth that my odds of getting hitched at 40 were slimmer than being in a terrorist attack. Not only was that false, but I had been in one in the Middle East and survived. That had to count for something. As more and more women rooted for us to write a book, I began to appreciate how telling our stories could shine a meaningful light on how friendship and being true to your desires in the face of convention can bring unexpected joy. 

 

Three Wishes is the story of three best friends who transformed their lives by taking motherhood into their own hands. Carey, Beth, and Pam had succeeded at work but failed at romance, and each resolved to have a baby before time ran out. Just one…

Behind the Book by

If you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun.
—Katharine Hepburn

Sheila Lukins and I have always thought cooking should be about love, laughter and fun in the kitchen. And 25 years ago, that’s what we had in the kitchen of The Silver Palate, our small takeout food shop in Manhattan. We were up to our necks in excitement making food, catering, creating condiments and selling them to stores across the country. When an editor from Workman Publishing suggested that we write a cookbook, it seemed a wonderful way to tell everyone who we were. Our friends and clients thought we were crazy, that if we put our recipes into a book it would be the end of our takeout food business, and no one would come to the shop to buy our food. Our instincts told us they would, and we knew we had a few more recipe ideas up our sleeves. We had no idea how to write a cookbook, but this was the book we had always dreamed of writing. We wanted everyone to share our insatiable curiosity about cooking, and to feel as though they were invited to the parties we were giving.

The Silver Palate Cookbook was considered pretty unorthodox when it was first published in 1982. Instead of traditional chapters, we organized it around ingredients and our excitement about seasonal arrivals. We wanted an explosion of asparagus recipes and we wanted to celebrate tomatoes and apples, and berries too. We wanted everyone to revel in our chocolate recipes and we thought pasta deserved its own chapter (remember, this was 25 years ago!).

We were cooking our way, with the big flavors we craved. We wanted to share our recipes, even if they didn’t always follow classical conventions. We felt that Chicken Marbella, nutted wild rice, blanquette de veau, charcroute, pate maison (we could go on and on here) and decadent chocolate mousse could become favorites countrywide, not just on the Upper West Side of New York. We were part of the food renaissance in America and we wanted to share every bit of that fun with everyone who would listen.

To push the envelope even further, we wanted our book to be chatty, filled with stories about our experiences at our little shop. We added quotes because sometimes someone else had already said it best. Why not bring them into the party, too? Then we added kitchen tips, menus, ingredient lore and we topped it all off with Sheila’s charming drawings. Who could afford photography? Most of all we wanted people to feel our passion for cooking.

We had no idea whether anyone would like such a cookbook. But, about three months after it was published, we heard that it was being used for dinner parties all around Lake Tahoe. The word was spreading! Indeed, it became wonderfully popular. The Silver Palate Cookbook has been published all over the world: France, Japan, Germany, Holland, Australia and England. It’s in the James Beard Hall of Fame and, most importantly, in kitchens everywhere.

Now, 25 years later, we have The Silver Palate Cookbook 25th Anniversary Edition with dazzling color photos. Our recipes have suddenly come alive and nothing could be more fun than to see our familiar cookbook anew! And, in this new edition, we have the added joy of being able to reflect on all that has happened in food a whole new reason to celebrate.

Little did we know so many years ago that sharing our recipes would bring us such joy. Whether we’re at home or traveling, we always bump into people anxious to tell us about a Silver Palate recipe they’ve made, and we get letters saying how much they enjoy reading our book in bed. So many of you have become our pals instant friends along the way. Who would have thought that our lives would become so enriched, day after day, for so many years, just because we wrote a cookbook? It’s been a great ride! Thank you. Let’s all have a ball with this new edition for many years to come.

Julee Rosso is the co-author, with Sheila Lukins, of The Silver Palate Cookbook, and the owner of the acclaimed Wickwood Inn in Saugatuck, Michigan.

 

If you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun.
—Katharine Hepburn

Sheila Lukins and I have always thought cooking should be about love, laughter and fun in the kitchen. And 25 years ago, that's what…

Behind the Book by

I never planned to write a breast cancer memoir. Never planned to get the cancer that would inspire it. But in January 2006, my first novel was on submission and hadn’t sold yet. In the meantime I’d written a second novel about a woman who finds a lump in her breast and thinks she might have breast cancer and wonders if she’s lived a meaningful life. I sent it off to my then-agent and went in for my annual mammogram and was told it was “suspicious.” A week later I was having surgery and while I was waiting for my own results, I received an e-mail from my agent (who didn’t know about my health scare) that said something like, I don’t really like the breast cancer novel. I’m not sure I care whether that woman has breast cancer or not. Ouch!

But the writing disappointment was a minor blip compared to how the diagnosis rocked my world and shattered my sense of self. I was about the healthiest person I knew. I never got sick. No aches or pains. I ran. I practiced yoga. I ate mostly vegetarian, whole grain and organic. I was the person others consulted for health and anti-aging tips.

I felt like a fake, a fraud. Even after I was told I had the “good” cancer, it was non-invasive and they got it all out, I felt panicked and paralyzed. I couldn’t write, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything other than stare out the window at my garden not yet in bloom and Google health sites and obsess about recurrence rates. And make homemade batches of organic facial creams with stuff like shea butter and jojoba oil. I thought about starting an organic facial cream company for vain hypochondriacs like me. I asked my husband to bring home an electro magnetic field measurer (I’m still waiting for that… do those even exist?). I suggested we move to Utah and live off the land (even though I don’t know the first thing about gardening or farming, my husband reminded me).

Finally, after weeks and weeks of this, my husband pressed a journal into my hands and said, “You have to write this down.” I shook my head. I was not a journal keeper, never had been and I did not want to write any of this down. But one day I picked up the journal and a pen and without even thinking, I wrote: “I’m sitting topless in the oncologist’s office on Valentine’s Day. Cancer is a Bitch.”

Once I started writing, the words flooded out. I shook and wept and fell asleep and woke up and wrote some more. The ironic thing is, as I poured those raw, intimate thoughts out, I thought, I will never EVER show those words to anyone. I thought writing them down was a way I didn’t have to burden my friends and family with my crazy thoughts. (And now you can go buy them in hardcover or my newly released paperback and I hope you will!) Eventually, I wrote those thoughts into an essay I called "Cancer Is a Bitch" and sent it to some trusted writer friends who said it was powerful and I should do something with it. But what was it? What would I do with it?

Soon after that, I read that Literary Mama was looking for columnists and on a whim I pitched the idea of a breast cancer mama column and they said yes and I started writing “Bare-breasted Mama.” To be honest, it was painful to write and I felt naked, like I was exposing myself both physically and emotionally. But the responses from readers were so soulful and many hadn’t even had cancer but they either knew someone who had or were just responding to the midlife issues about motherhood and marriage and career that I wrote about. They thanked me for making them laugh (because believe it or not the book is funny!) and cry and think. Their words gave me the courage to keep writing and opening up and eventually to leave my then agent and pitch the idea of a breast cancer memoir to a new agent.

Next thing I knew I had a new agent, a new book, a new lease on life.

That was three-and-a-half years ago and my life has changed dramatically since then. I have not only launched my writing career, but also have launched two daughters off to college, watched my son turn into a skateboarding teen, run two half marathons, am in training for my first full marathon (in a few weeks!). I have also become a professional speaker and college and medical school lecturer. Plus I feel stronger and healthier, and more sure of who I am and where I am headed, than ever before in my life.

And in the midst of all this life hurtling forward, I made more discoveries. I discovered I could get up in front of other people and share my story with strangers and stand with survivors in solidarity and hold their hands in mine and hope I could give them hope. More significantly, the beauty and wisdom and raw truth I saw in their eyes filled me with hope and a newfound respect for the courage of the human condition and fueled me to not be afraid to share more of myself and be the person I meant to be and live the life I meant to live.

For me that means running my first marathon in a few weeks (oy!), the release of the paperback version of Cancer Is a Bitch, and more speaking and lecturing and a new book in the works and fewer whys and more why nots. And taking more time to gather family and friends around my old pine harvest dining room table overflowing with vases of hydrangeas from the garden still in bloom and good food and stories and hearty laughter and the gratitude and joy of being.

Gail Konop Baker writes from her home in Madison, Wisconsin. Her memoir, Cancer Is a Bitch, is available in paperback this month.

I never planned to write a breast cancer memoir. Never planned to get the cancer that would inspire it. But in January 2006, my first novel was on submission and hadn’t sold yet. In the meantime I’d written a second novel about a woman who…

Behind the Book by

My new book, The Mighty Queens of Freeville: A Mother, a Daughter, and the Town That Raised Them, is an affectionate memoir of my experience as a single mother. The book spans the 18 years I spent raising my daughter, Emily, with the help of my family.

I didn’t set out to write a memoir, however. My intention was to write a how-to book, full of tips, hints and useful information. Because I’m a syndicated advice columnist, I’m used to telling people “how to”—how to cure a heartache, how to confront a friend or how to manage an obnoxious mother-in-law. Due to the success of my column, writing an advice book seemed like a natural fit. My agent and various editors referred to the advice book project as a “slam dunk.”
I was pondering the challenges of writing my how-to book during a trip I took from my home in Chicago to visit family in Freeville, the little farming village in upstate New York where generations of my family have grown up and grown old.

While there, I went to the village school—the same one I attended as a child—to watch my niece’s kindergarten play. On the very same creaky wooden stage where I poured out my own pint-sized aspirations as a kindergartner, I watched my niece and her classmates act out and reflect the story of our lives in this small community. The kids were dressed as chickens, pigs and Holstein cows. They sang and danced in a make-believe barnyard.
It was adorable.
I looked around. The audience was populated with people, many of whom I’ve known all my life. I sat in my folding chair, flanked by my daughter, sister and mother in the old auditorium my grandfather and other men in the village had helped to build.
Given my surroundings, I couldn’t help but think about the arc of my own life. My how-to book idea went away in that moment and I decided instead to write my own story.

In my work as an advice columnist, people often challenge me by asking how I know what I know. I’m not a counselor. I don’t have an advanced degree. I got here the hard way, by living my life and making my share of mistakes. I took the back roads of life, through marriage and divorce and raising my daughter as a single parent. I got here with the help and support of the people in my little world.

My agent was skeptical when I told her I wanted to write about my daughter, aunts and cousins, my sisters and mother. We are ordinary people whose lives, nonetheless, have been blessed with incident. I told her I wanted to write about people and livestock and the little community I come from. 
My agent asked me to write a chapter. She said, “I want to see if there is any there there.”

The first chapter I wrote detailed the loss and longing I felt when my own father abandoned our family farm, leaving his four children to run our failing dairy. And then I wrote another chapter, about the fumbling hilarity of coping with the livestock he had left behind. As I was writing the book, Emily graduated from high school in Chicago and I made the decision to move back to Freeville permanently. Once again, I was surrounded by my family—the women Emily refers to as “the Mighty Queens.”

I wrote about blind dates and my work life. I wrote about my faith and personal failings. I wrote about sending Emily to college and saying goodbye to the person I had raised and was now launching into adulthood. I wrote about “the Mighty Queens,” those women who had supported us, championed our successes and wept with us during our difficult times.

During the course of working on the book, my dear aunt Lena died and we buried her in our family plot in Freeville. I reconnected with the people in my hometown who are all characters in my life story. I fell in love with a man I had known since childhood. And finally, my story felt complete.
 In my work giving advice to other people, I often feel that the two hardest questions for any of us to answer are, “Who am I?” and “What do I want?” I’ve struggled with those questions myself—but finally, through telling my own story, I found the answers.

Amy Dickinson succeeded the legendary Ann Landers as the advice columnist for the Chicago Tribune in 2003. Her column, “Ask Amy,” is now syndicated in 200 newspapers. She is also a regular panelist on the NPR quiz show, “Wait, Wait . . . Don’t Tell Me.”

My new book, The Mighty Queens of Freeville: A Mother, a Daughter, and the Town That Raised Them, is an affectionate memoir of my experience as a single mother. The book spans the 18 years I spent raising my daughter, Emily, with the help of…

Behind the Book by
Tony Hillerman once inscribed a book to me with these words:

“For Rosemary – Who qualifies for the ‘Listening Woman’ title I once used.

–Tony Hillerman”

That inscription ranks with the most cherished compliments I have received in my life. But much as I love to know that he valued me as a good listener, I have to admit, it was easy to listen to Tony Hillerman. In fact, it was a breeze.

Like so many other people who came to know and love Tony Hillerman and his work, I first met him at a book-signing event. Working on assignment for a newspaper, I figured that while the occasion and the man would become indelible memories for me, I would be sure to fade into a sea of media faces in the mystery writer’s recollection.

I soon discovered that I was, as Tony would put it, “dead wrong.” I could not know then that I would have the privilege of co-editing The Oxford Book of American Detective Stories and A New Omnibus of Crime with this man.
 
When I was putting together my first book, The Fatal Art of Entertainment: Interviews with Mystery Writers (G.K. Hall, 1994), Tony was on my wish list of interviewees. It seemed a long shot but nevertheless I sat down and wrote a letter beginning, “Dear Mr. Hillerman . . .”
 
To my delight, I received an immediate reply, inviting me to interview the author in his home on the outskirts of Albuquerque, New Mexico. Arriving at his door after the long trip from Boston, Massachusetts, I again referred to the author as “Mr. Hillerman” as I greeted him.
 
“Well, Ms. Herbert, you can call me Tony,” he said, smiling. “But do you know, I appreciate that you called me ‘Mr. Hillerman.’ It was one of the things that made me remember you from that time you interviewed me in Cambridge, Massachusetts. I find that politeness refreshing.”
 
For my part, I found it intensely stimulating to hear Tony talk about his life and work in an interview that lasted for hours, during which he even showed me a manuscript in progress and asked my opinion of a proposed plot twist. Although Tony would have shrugged off any extolling of his own importance, I felt not just trusted but honored to be privy to that secret in his plot.
 
When Oxford University Press asked me to find an important American mystery writer to co-edit The Oxford Book of American Detective Stories with me, Tony leapt to mind. But I wondered if he could make time for the project. So I offered to do all the groundwork and to write all the essays introducing each story and author. I told him all he would have to do is decide on the final contents and write a preface.
 
Tony told me, “That’s not fair. I insist on writing my share of the essays. And I’ll do the preface, too.”
 
And he was true to his word.
 
More recently, when I approached Oxford University Press to put together an anthology that would begin where Dorothy L. Sayers’ landmark 1928 anthology, The Omnibus of Crime, left off, Tony readily agreed to edit it with me. And so we launched into selecting stories to represent three quarters of a century of developments in our beloved genre.
 
We both knew it was a tall order to walk in the footsteps of Dorothy L. Sayers, but we were absolutely game to give it a try. To honor Sayers, we decided to call our book A New Omnibus of Crime. But while, like her volume, ours would be packed with stories that have crime at their hearts, our Omnibus was destined to speed at a faster pace than Sayers’, and to showcase crime writing in profoundly changing times.
 
As Tony wrote in his “Preface” to our book, Sayers’ The Omnibus of Crime “was and is a masterwork and a treasure. But, as Bob Dylan musically warned us, ‘The times they are a-changin’.
 
“And so has crime and the nature of mystery and detective fiction. . . . Therefore after seventy-five years which have included global warfare, the rise and fall of nations, the advent of space flight, motorized roller skates, crack cocaine, political correctness, and all sorts of other innovations, Rosemary Herbert and I feel the time is ripe for another look at what has become the most read form of printed literature on the planet.”
 
“How’s that for a start, Rosemary?” Tony asked me after reading those paragraphs to me out loud. Am I stealing anything you want to say in your ‘Introduction’?”
 
We were sitting side-by-side at two computers in his home office. I read him the opening words of my piece. It was clear we were working in tandem, without stealing one another’s thunder. And I was not just listening to Tony. He was listening to me.
 
When we turned back to our computer screens, Tony proved himself to be just as polite to Sayers as I had once been to him.
 
“With Miss Sayers,” he wrote, “and readers of today and tomorrow—in mind, we put together A New Omnibus of Crime. We think it does a fair job of representing the strengths of the crime writing genre in our time. Like her book, we hope it will also stand the test of time.”
 
While Tony is not here to celebrate the paperback release of our book, I’m proud to attest that his taste, his love and knowledge of the genre, and his voice are all alive in the book that was my very great joy to co-edit with him.
 
Rosemary Herbert co-edited A New Omnibus of Crime and The Oxford Book of American Detective Stories with Tony Hillerman, and served as editor-in-chief of The Oxford Companion to Crime & Mystery Writing, all published by Oxford University Press. Her forthcoming mystery novel, Front Page Teaser: A Liz Higgins Mystery will be published by Down East Books in October.

Tony Hillerman created the celebrated Joe Leaphorn and Jim Chee mysteries, set in New Mexico. He was named a Grand Master by the Mystery Writers of America.  

Tony Hillerman once inscribed a book to me with these words:
“For Rosemary – Who qualifies for the ‘Listening Woman’ title I once used.
–Tony Hillerman”

That inscription ranks with the most cherished compliments I have received in my life. But much as I…

Behind the Book by

Grilling guru Steven Raichlen's best-selling cookbooks have been teaching readers how to get the most out of barbecue for years. In Planet Barbecue! (read our review here) he travels around the world to learn how other countries hone their grilling skills. Here he shares a few extra tips to get you on the right track.

Tune up your grill
Charcoal grill owners will want to scrape out any old ash and spray the vents with WD-40. Gas grill owners should make sure the burner tubes are free of cobwebs and spiders. Replace the igniter batteries if the grill won’t light. If you smell gas, brush the hoses and couplings with a leak detection liquid (made of equal parts water and dish soap)—bubbles will show any leaks.

Buy a second grill
Gas grills are convenient, but when it comes to smoking, you can’t beat charcoal. Join the more than 30 percent of Americans who own more than one grill. Use the gas grill on busy weeknights and fire up the charcoal grill on the weekends, when there is plenty of time to smoke low and slow.

Load up on fuel
Always keep an extra bag of charcoal or an extra tank of propane on hand. To take if up a notch, if you normally grill with charcoal briquettes, try natural lump charcoal because it burns cleaner. If you normally use natural lump charcoal, graduate up to wood (like oak or hickory) for a richer smoke flavor. 

Ready your rubs 
Prepare a few extra batches of Raichlen’s Basic Barbecue “Four Four” Rub (equal parts salt, pepper, paprika, and brown sugar) at the start of the season, so you always have some on hand for an impromptu grill session.

Gather your tools
Make sure you have the three essential tools: a long-handled grill brush; spring-loaded tongs; and an instant-read meat thermometer.  Other more specialized cool tools that come in handy include a wood chip soaker, rib rack, cedar grilling planks, beer can chicken roaster, and a set of flat skewers for authentic shish kebabs. 

Learn the lingo
•  Grilling means to cook small, tender, and quick cooking foods directly over a hot fire.    
•  Barbecue is cooked next to, not directly over, the fire, at a low temperature for a long time in fragrant clouds of wood smoke.    
•  Indirect grilling is also done next to, not directly over, the fire, with or without wood smoke, at a higher temperature. 
 
•  Spit-roasting is what you do on the rotisserie. 
 

Review the basics

 

•  The surest way to burn or undercook food on the grill is to overcrowd the grate. Remember to leave 1 inch between each item and leave 1/3 of your grate [or grilling space] open.   That way, if flare-ups occur, there is a safety zone to move the food to and dodge the flames. 

 

•  Steaks, chops, chicken, pork shoulders, and briskets will taste best if they rest for a few minutes before serving. This allows the meat to “relax,” which makes it more tender and succulent. Loosely tent with foil to hold in the heat. 
 

Barbecuing on a budget? Try these tips:

 
 

•  Stay home and fire up your grill. Simply commit to grilling at home and automatically save money—especially when entertaining a group. Grilling at home is also healthier for you and more fun. 

 
 

•  True barbecue is the original budget food. The low, slow heat of the smoker breaks down tough meat, making cheap cuts like brisket and ribs supernaturally flavorful. 

 
 

•  Save leftover charcoal for next time. If there is charcoal left over, cover the grill, closing the top and bottom vents to put out the fire. Use the remaining charcoal for a future grill session.    

 
 

•  Inexpensive steaks, like skirt and hanger, have a lot more flavor than costlier cuts, like filet mignon. Tenderize these cuts by flash grilling over high heat and slicing the meat thinly across the grain.    

 
 

•  Choose the less-expensive dark meat pieces of a chicken. Dark meat, like thighs and legs, are better marbled, richer tasting, and less prone to drying out when exposed to the high, dry heat of the fire than pricier white meat pieces.  95 percent of the world’s grill masters prefer dark meat.

 
 
•  Expensive sirloin and kobe may have the prestige, but chuck delivers more flavor when making a burger. Choose chuck that is at least 15 percent fat and your burgers will be jucier. And try making an inside-cheeseburger by grating sharp cheddar, pepper jack, or blue cheese directly into ground meat; it melts as the meat cooks, producing an exceptionally moist burger.
 
 

•  Grill dark oily fish like sardines, Spanish mackerel, or kingfish as an inexpensive seafood alternative. The omega-3 fatty fish oils are great for your health and keep the fish from drying out on the grill.

 
 

•  Smoke whole briskets, beef clods (shoulders), pork shoulders, whole turkeys, and racks of spareribs. This yields more meat for the money, much less work is required, and everyone loves the primal pleasure of cutting into a communal size roast. 

 
 

•  Cook the whole meal on the grill. appetizer, main course, vegetable side dishes, and even dessert. It saves on fuel, clean-up, and wear and tear in the kitchen. And don’t forget, if something tastes good baked, fried, or sautéed, it probably tastes better grilled!

 
 

 

Grilling guru Steven Raichlen's best-selling cookbooks have been teaching readers how to get the most out of barbecue for years. In Planet Barbecue! (read our review here) he travels around the world to learn how other countries hone their grilling skills. Here he shares a…

Behind the Book by

By Kristin Tubb

Growing up, I once told my father that I wanted to “own NASA.” Monetary and logistical issues aside, this seemed like an excellent career path to pursue. Space shuttles! Space stations! And, well . . . Space!

It was with much regret that I left this dream behind, and focused instead on the more realistic dream of studying to become an Aerospace Engineer at Auburn University. Alas, this was not to be my calling, either, as I consistently fell asleep during my classes and while reading my textbooks. (I took this as a sign. Rightfully so.)

Many years and numerous job changes later, I found myself nodding eagerly when editor Kathryn Knight at Dalmatian Press asked me to write an elementary-school-age activity book about space.

“It’ll be the universe, in 64 pages,” she said. I might’ve squealed.

The piecing together of the universe began. Constellations and black holes and meteors. When I reached the topic of comets, I started with the one comet I knew: Halley’s Comet. Within minutes of researching Halley’s Comet, I discovered that it travelled so close to our planet in the spring of 1910, Earth actually passed through the comet’s tail. People who lived in that time knew that Halley’s Comet was approaching, knew that Earth would pass through its tail, but no one knew—not exactly—what to expect. People began prophesying the end of days. And with that sniff of fear, out came the con artists.

Lead umbrellas. Gas masks. Trips to the moon. And comet pills, selling in Port-au-Prince, Haiti, a dollar per. All of these items were hawked in the spring of 1910 by con artists and snake oil salesmen looking to turn a quick buck. Looking to cash in on fear. Reading those words—comet pills—I knew it was a novel I’d like to write.

I finished the book for Dalmatian Press (titled Space: An A+ Workbook), and started researching the fear that led up to May 18 and 19, 1910—the days that Earth was in the tail of Halley’s Comet. The event has been called the world’s first case of mass hysteria; it was the first time there was ample enough media to alert most of the world’s population to this kind of event. (And by media, we’re talking newspapers. Radios weren’t yet widely in use.)

Headlines read “Hey! Look Out! The Comet’s Tail is Coming Fast” and “Whole Science World Waits Comet’s Tail As It Sweeps Earth” and “Earth Ready to Enter Tail of Comet.” But despite the fact that the world’s top scientists promised that no danger would befall Earth, the citizens of our dear planet believed what they wanted to believe.

Farmers refused to plant or tend to their crops. People donated all their belongings to their churches in penance. Rumors started that being submerged in water would keep you safe, and rentals of U-boats and submarines soared.

Yet knowing all of these fantastic (and true!) details, I still needed a backdrop for my main character, Hope McDaniels. Why would she want to sell comet pills? It’s difficult to write a character who is a con artist and still manage to make her likeable. I needed Hope to be desperate.

Since the story took place in 1910, I started researching vaudeville as a possible career for 13-year-old Hope. (It was plausible she’d have a career at 13. In 1910, most children studied to around age 11 before leaving school to find work.) Vaudevillans had a grueling schedule—many of them didn’t even own a home or rent an apartment, they travelled so much. They lived in sleeper cars and boarding houses and performed the same act four times a day, every day, except for days on the rails.

 
That was it. Hope hated travelling on the vaudeville circuit, and she saw the opportunity to leave blazing toward her in the nighttime sky. Others were cashing in on the fear of the comet—why shouldn’t she?

Writing Selling Hope was a rare opportunity to combine my interests in space, live entertainment and history. The research was, in some parts, so funny, so breathtaking, so scary and so touching that you can guarantee I never fell asleep over those books.

(And for the record: writing history for kids? Much better than owning NASA.)

Selling Hope is Kristin O’Donnell Tubb’s second work of historical fiction for young readers. Her debut novel, Autumn Winifred Oliver Does Things Different, tells the story of families in Tennessee’s historic Cades Cove who were displaced by the opening of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Tubb and her family live near Nashville.
 

By Kristin Tubb

Growing up, I once told my father that I wanted to “own NASA.” Monetary and logistical issues aside, this seemed like an excellent career path to pursue. Space shuttles! Space stations! And, well . . .…

Review by

Jan Karon hit the motherlode of publishing when she tapped into a deeply felt yearning for small-town community and character. Since then, other writers have trod the path to small-town America, helping millions recapture (or reinvent) their memories of a simpler life that holds its own sweet rewards.

One of the latest and most successful to walk this road is Philip Gulley, a Quaker minister and best-selling author of three nonfiction books that have delighted and inspired hundreds of thousands of readers. The first of these, Front Porch Tales, grew out of essays Gulley wrote for his church newsletter. Gulley’s stories were so inspiring and hilarious that some of his church members suggested he write a book. Front Porch Tales has since sold more than a quarter-million copies and spawned two sequels with more brief essays on the delights and challenges of small-town living: Home Town Tales and For Everything a Season.

Now Gulley is trying his hand at fiction, with this month’s release of Home to Harmony (audio), in which the fictional town of Harmony, Indiana, hosts the biggest collection of crusty, lovable characters since James Herriott settled in Yorkshire.

“I wanted to write not only about the good that people do, but also about the funny messes we get ourselves into, Gulley says, “and about how, even in those moments, wonderful things can still happen. One of Gulley’s favorite characters in Home to Harmony is Miriam Hodge, head elder of the town’s Quaker meeting, and a woman of uncommon wisdom and grace. “It’s hard for me to think of Miriam as a fictional character, Gulley admits. “I keep expecting to meet her any day now. Despite winning the author’s affection, Miriam manages to get herself into some embarrassing scrapes. In one episode, the ladies of the Quaker meeting decide to make a quilt as a fund-raising project. When they hang the quilt in the meeting house and the sun hits it, the face of Jesus appears on the surface of the quilt. Mobs of people begin lining up to see the holy quilt, forcing Miriam to make a private confession to her minister: she had spilled coffee on the quilt, leaving a stain that resembled the face of Jesus. “That’s not the Lord we’ve been seeing, Miriam admits, “that’s Maxwell House. Miriam’s minister is Sam Gardner, the book’s narrator who, like Gulley himself, returns to live in his hometown after attending college and seminary. Gardner is offered a job when the town’s Quaker pastor dies in an accident. (“Both his parents had died of heart problems, which he feared would happen to him, so he’d begun to jog and was hit by a truck. ) In an interview, the author displays the same wry humor and love of people that enliven his books. Appropriately enough, Gulley would fit right in as a resident of Mayberry, RFD, since he looks like a cross between Sheriff Andy Griffith and his deputy, Barney Fife. Gulley has Barney’s wiry build, combined with Andy’s wide grin and reassuring manner.

After a few minutes of conversation with the minister, you can see why his speeches and sermons have drawn many admirers. Gulley is charming, self-deprecating, and utterly sincere as he holds forth on the joys of living in Danville, Indiana a place where most of the 4,000 residents know one another. As a writer, he aims to capture this sense of intimacy and belonging in his books.

“I just wanted to tell the world about these wonderful people I know, Gulley says, “people I grew up with; people who taught me things. I really believe in people. I’m one of those rare and lucky individuals who has never been too disappointed by people. In that sense, I’m truly blessed. Home to Harmony is intended to be the first in a series, with the next entry, Searching for Harmony following the same characters through a series of crises and challenges. Through it all, Gulley says, his aim is “to gladden people’s hearts. I’ve met so many people who’ve done that for me. Home to Harmony and the other books I write become the way I pay back what was given to me.

Jan Karon hit the motherlode of publishing when she tapped into a deeply felt yearning for small-town community and character. Since then, other writers have trod the path to small-town America, helping millions recapture (or reinvent) their memories of a simpler life that holds its…
Behind the Book by

"There."

"Like this?"

"No, too styled."

Too styled? I thought that was our mission: "styling" the handknits for the photographs that are to go into our book, Mason-Dixon Knitting: The Curious Knitters’ Guide.

We are in the kitchen of a Victorian house in the Catskills, hunkered around a knitted dishcloth, seeking to capture its soul. There are five of us: Steve Gross, a distinguished architectural photographer who has in a weak moment agreed to shoot our book for us; Sue Daley, his partner who is a gifted stylist; my co-author, Kay Gardiner; my sister-in-law Mary Neal Meador; and me. The kitchen is crammed with laundry baskets filled with stuff we are going to photograph for the book, including the baby burp cloths which are still not finished. Steve’s equipment is a tangle of cables, cases and shiny umbrellas that look like leftovers from a moon mission. It’s not obvious to me how this is going to go.

When we decided to write a book about knitting, Kay and I had a clear vision of what we wanted to create. Ours would be the knitting book we always wished we could find. It would have stories, a wide variety of cool patterns, and most of all, glorious, lush photographs which convey the warm-hearted wonderfulness of handknits. As we worked on the book, certain elements fell into place. Patterns: check. Stories: check. But the photography? Yikes! It loomed like a soul-sucking black hole. We knew nothing about photography. At some point we knew we had to start the photography process, but the word Hindenburg lurked in my mind. There was no way the photographs could come together. We avoided setting a schedule for the shoots. Maybe MAGIC would happen and some beautiful pictures would turn up.

 

Well, it really was magic. It was like when Penn and Teller explain the trick to you, then do the trick again and you still don’t know how they did it.

We first met Steve and Sue in their Manhattan studio, which looked like Hollywood’s idea of a photographer’s loft: industrial, high-ceilinged, with a huge light table in an otherwise empty room. It seemed impossible that these people would want to work on a knitting book. Surely they were too busy being cool. But they kept talking to us, and they never blinked when we said we would be photographing homely handknits like bath mats and baby bibs. We could not believe our good fortune.

Steve told that us that on a good day, they take 10 shots. This seemed ridiculously slow to us, who rou-tinely take a zillion (blurry) (ill-framed) shots of a sleeve when we’re writing about a knitting project on our blog, masondixonknitting.com. Snipsnap let’s get it to it, we thought.

But months later, now that we’re huddled around that dishcloth, debating whether soap bubbles will photograph well, worrying whether the dishcloth looks sincere enough, I begin to wonder if we will get one shot a day.

We move on. We wander through the house, figuring out where to shoot each item. Steve and Sue communicate at some frequency only dogs can hear. We conclude that they can read each other’s mind. They go 10 minutes without a word, in the tiniest attic bedroom of this rambling old house, climbing into the closet to get the right angle, futzing with the lighting in order to photograph a blanket casually draped around a bedpost. The dozens of black flies swarming in the window behind the bed worry us—a bit too much plague. Steve doesn’t seem concerned.

Kay constantly works on the baby burp cloths. Mary Neal presses hand towels. Never have I felt less necessary.

At intervals Steve lets me look through his lens. From its well-used appearance, his Hasselblad has clearly taken a million photographs, but to me, the small, square image is the freshest thing I have ever seen.

Piece by piece, Steve and Sue transform our baskets of precious, lumpy handknits into one lovely still life after another. Not only do Steve and Sue seem to communicate in some secret code, they also understand instinctively how we want the photographs to feel.

We traveled to four locations with Steve and Sue: the Catskills house, Kay’s apartment, a Manhattan townhouse and a house in Southampton. Today, as I flip through the finished book, seeing all these places lurking in the background, I marvel at the way Steve and Sue created a single mood for these photographs. We cared desperately about the way these pictures ought to look, yet we had no idea how to do it. It was an education to watch Steve and Sue make it happen so easily, and with so few words.

An education, and a relief. The black flies? They vanished in a perfect exposure of bright light from the window. As for the dishcloth? Its humble, tender soul is caught on film, right there on page 19.

A former editor of BookPage, Ann Shayne rediscovered her love of knitting when she left the workplace to stay at home with her two young children. She met her co-author, Kay Gardiner, on a knitting message board in 2002, and the two began an e-mail correspondence that led to the popular blog.

"There."

"Like this?"

"No, too styled."

Too styled? I thought that was our mission: "styling" the handknits for the photographs that are to go into our book, Mason-Dixon Knitting: The Curious Knitters' Guide.

We are in the kitchen of a Victorian house in the Catskills,…

Behind the Book by
Although I had wanted to be a writer much earlier in life, when I finally received a powerful inspiration, it wasn’t a call to write a book or even anything that could be described in conventional terms, as, say, an essay or something. Rather, it was an inspiration to be grateful, to notice the good things in my life, and to write thank-you notes for them. Three hundred and sixty-five thank you notes, to be specific. So for 15 months, I was writing, but not really writing a book. The only things I was writing were thank-you notes.
 
I needed a powerful inspiration to finish a writing project. I had long ago abandoned my dream of being a writer, and, after starting my own law firm in 2000, my life had become completely consumed by my work. But the responses and improvements in my life that sprang from the thank-you notes were immediate, surprising and themselves inspiring. So I kept writing them.  
 
I wrote the thank-you notes first on an Excel spreadsheet. I would record the name and address, and the spiritual or material gift for which I was thankful—a kind of “gratitude list.” Then I would write out a first draft of the note in one of the fields of the spreadsheet. This helped me to organize my thoughts, so I wouldn’t have to repeatedly start over when I started to handwrite the note. I didn’t want to waste paper. In other fields of the spreadsheet, I would make notes, for example, about how someone responded when they received the note.
           
As the year went on, and I began to feel better about life, there were times when I would think of going back to writing. Then I would look at my spreadsheet, and see I was behind on my thank-you notes. So instead of writing something else, I would write more thank-you notes.
 
The book was written in the few spaces I had in my life. While I drank my first cup of coffee at Starbucks. I would finish one cup while typing, get my refill for $0.50, and be off to work. I wrote thank-you notes to two special baristas who would remember my name and my order and greet me on these mornings. Ever wonder what all those people huddled over their laptops are assiduously typing? I was one of them. This is what I was typing.
           
The book reveals what I could sense about the source of the inspiration at the time it came to me. The man who began the project on January 1, 2008, would not have harbored some of these thoughts. When I started writing the notes, the spell-check pointed out that I could not even properly spell the word grateful.
 
Writing 365 thank-you notes led me to discover that my life was not nearly the tragedy I saw it as. My life was instead blessed and protected, fostered and defended by hundreds of people who had taken an interest in me, cared about me and at various points along the way, rescued me. I hope that those who read it will find a way to make similar discoveries in their lives.  

John Kralik is a lawyer whose 2008 vow to write a daily thank-you note inspired a memoir and a new way of looking at his life. He lives near Los Angeles. Read our review of 365 Thank-Yous.

 

Although I had wanted to be a writer much earlier in life, when I finally received a powerful inspiration, it wasn’t a call to write a book or even anything that could be described in conventional terms, as, say, an essay or something. Rather, it…

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