The Christmastime Series – Update

The Christmastime series is getting a new look. For a long time, I’ve been told by many people (my publisher, consultants, readers) that my covers don’t accurately reflect the content of my books. That they are too dark, too vague, the images are too small and don’t convey what the books are about (a bridge in twilight means what?), and even that the genre isn’t clear — that the photographs could suggest non-fiction. So…

I finally listened to the feedback and made the decision to get new covers. And I’m happy with the outcome. I think they capture the tone a lot better — yes, the backdrop to the stories is WWII, but the overarching tone is one of hope, resilience, happiness, and love. And the new covers now align more closely with historical fiction, which will hopefully lead more readers to discover the series.

The covers now help to tell the stories. The cover of the 1939 prequel depicts Lillian standing in Brooklyn and looking towards Manhattan, towards her dreams. One early viewer said the message she gets from the image is: “My new life is about to begin.” The 1940 cover lets us know that Lillian’s two boys are essential to the series.

And the 1943 book? There is still a lone bridge at twilight, but now the main character stands there and we know the story will be about her, and the setting of Central Park and New York City are more clearly established.

The rest of the covers are still being worked on.

(Since the series continues to grow, I had to make one change to the 1945 book. The Epilogue had to be deleted in order for the later books to flow chronologically. That part of the story will be expanded into a book, most likely called Summertime 1948.)

I grew attached to my old covers, and they served their purpose. But it’s time to let the series continue to grow and unfold as a whole.

The latest book in the Christmastime series is called Harvest Time 1947 and will be released in a few weeks!

To all my readers, thank you for your support, your comments, and your requests to keep the series going.

The Notebooks of Honora Gorman

Not a love story, and yet a story of love

Behind the grit and grime, behind the crunch and crime,

lies the magic and beauty of New York City — at least there once was for a would-be writer named Honora Gorman.

True, she was never published and her life tended to meander about well into old age. True, her notebooks gathered dust as she grew older, though she continued to buy new ones and fill them.

And true, the sparkling dream-like wonder of her first encounter with the city lost some of its luster over the years.

And yet — and yet, between the pen and the paper lay the the stubborn insistence that what she saw and felt was somehow essential, worthy of being recorded, and utterly beautiful in a strife-filled, struggling sort of way.

Nora (character): Give it up Honora.

Honey (character): Oh, let her dream…

The Notebooks of Honora Gorman: Fairytales, Whimsy, and Wonder https://a.co/d/03R5khXL

(all images are from my Pinterest boards)

Thoughts of spring – Kate’s farm in winter (the Christmastime series)

At this time of year, I begin to wonder what Kate and her daughters would have done to get through the long, cold winters on the farm. Especially on days when they were snowed in, or the outside world was too frigid for enjoyment.

I imagine Kate would have kept busy with mending and darning and the daily chores of farm life. But I also see her in the kitchen, making something special for her family. An unexpected surprise that would warm the kitchen and fragrance the farmhouse.

In addition to their other chores, Ursula and Jessica would have been busy with weekly laundry and ironing – perhaps remembering springtime clotheslines as they gathered the cold laundry off the line.

As they listened to the radio at night, they might have crocheted or embroidered the flowers they longed for, as a way of creating a bit of springtime.

They would have continued their projects with the dried lavender gathered over the summer, making oils for baths and sachets to fragrance bed linen and nightgowns – a way of encouraging memories of spring before asleep.

I see them all pausing at the windows, searching for color out in the snowy, white world

and imagining the garden in bloom, the beehives full of honey.

Such thoughts might prompt them to make a cup of tea with honey, to warm up and savor the hint of wildflowers.

Maybe they would have gone into town with their brothers to run a few errands and catch up on the local news, finding warmth and vitality in the company of friends and neighbors.

In short, they would have done many of the things they did throughout the year – but everything now would be tinged with a wistful longing for the colors and scents of warmer months. It was second nature to them to bring touches of springtime into their lives and spread a little warmth and sunshine into the heart of winter.

(Though Kate and her family are mentioned in the earlier Christmastime books, the farm plots really blossom beginning in the 1943 book.)

https://a.co/d/dXITJZu

My short, short books.

My first two books, The Dreams of Youth and Seven Tales of Love, are also my shortest. They can easily be read in an hour or less. They are collections of short stories and sketches that, overall, tell a larger story.

Particularly with The Dreams of Youth. In large part inspired by my mom’s life (though with plenty of creative license taken), six interrelated pieces tell the story of a lifetime in 48 brief pages.

I have a soft spot for these two books. They were compiled years ago on discovering that I could publish my books through Amazon – no agent or publishing house needed (both were first published in 2012, then re-published with indie-author-friendly Bublish in 2016). My lifelong dream of being a writer was now possible, with me in full control! Because I originally wrote them under a pen name (Agnes Irene), I felt free to be a little more creative with the form, mixing sketches with poetry, sometimes using impressionistic language, and tapping into the other eras, particularly WWII.

And in The Dreams of Youth, I used lines from Longfellow’s poem, “My Lost Youth,” as chapter headings. I was always deeply moved by the refrain from that poem – “And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts” – and allowed that inspiration to shape the book. Most of my subsequent books are written in the traditional novel format – except for The Notebooks of Honora Gorman, which is also a compilation.

I don’t often promote my two short books because there isn’t much of a market for them (and to avoid getting negative reviews by people who are disappointed by their length). But for the month of June, I’m lowering the price of The Dreams of Youth to $0.99 in hopes that it will be read and reviewed by readers who are familiar with my style of writing. https://a.co/d/0nIjxUn

To all my readers who have already read and reviewed this book, THANK YOU! And to any new readers, I hope you enjoy it!

https://a.co/d/0nIjxUn – ebook on Amazon. Also available on Google Play, Apple Books, Kobo, and B&N. Soft cover available on Amazon and B&N.

Winter reading

Cold weather, long nights, snowy days – all help to create the perfect atmosphere for snuggling into a good story.

I like to imagine my readers settling in to read the Christmastime series with a hot drink close at hand,

whether at home

or in a cozy cafe,

in a favorite reading chair,

or a reading nook.

Outside,

or in front of a fireplace.

Whatever your reading habits,

I hope you include the Christmastime series as part of your winter reading –

which begins with the 1939 prequel and ends (to date) with the 1946 Valentine’s Day book.

https://a.co/d/3SQIV8w

Wishing you all a wonderful new year and the enjoyment of many good books!

April — in New York City

(Excerpts from my novel, The Notebooks of Honora Gorman: Fairytales, Whimsy, and Wonder)

“Is April a time or a place? Honora wondered. Right now, as she looked out her window, the rain gurgling in the gutters, the trees full of white blossoms and tiny bright leaves against a pearl gray sky, it seemed a place – a land of beginnings, of youth, of beauty, a place to breathe deeply and stroll through, to enjoy its flowers and first greens, the cool soft air. She grabbed an umbrella and decided to wander through Central Park, down the Poet’s Walk to the lake, and absorb the April beauty.”

“Blossom time. The spring was cold, with occasional snow. Then a few warm days came and the pear trees along the street burst into bloom. Honora waited all year for this month with the fluttering white blossoms, lovely against the old brick, the gray slate roofs, the softer gray of the sky. The temperature had dropped again and she hoped the cold would keep the blossoms on the trees a little longer. But already she saw a bit of green – the leaves were beginning to show. Soon, the rains would loosen the blossoms, whisking them into the air. And she would have to wait another year for April blossoms.”

“Honora walked the streets of her pretty neighborhood almost every day. In the spring it was bursting with color – shooting rays of yellow forsythias, azalea bushes so thick with purple or red or coral blooms that they scarcely showed any leaves. There weren’t many lilac bushes but Honora knew where they were and would linger next to them, or stand under the ones arching over a tall fence, to breath in their fragrance.”

“There had been a magnificent old wisteria plant with massive, thick ropes of vines climbing an old sycamore, draping sweetness and pale-purple beauty overhead every spring. It had been pure magic and every April Honora looked forward to seeing it, raising her face to bathe in its perfume, filling herself with its beauty.”

The Notebooks of Honora Gorman: Fairytales, Whimsy, and Wonder

“Not a love story – and yet a story of love. Love for a city, for the artist’s way, and dreams.”

https://amzn.to/3TSchqO

https://amzn.to/3TSchqO

(Images from my Pinterest boards.)

Traveling by train

Lately, the only kind of traveler I’ve been is an armchair traveler.

Though it can’t compare to feet-on-the-ground traveling, it does have charms of its own. You can comfortably dream, make plans for numerous destinations,

and pack your mental bags of your favorite traveling clothes.

Considering possible European destinations, I thought perhaps traveling by train would be an interesting way to get from one country to another. So I’ve decided to add the rails to my travel list.

There’s something inherently romantic about train travel. It conjures up images from old movies and novels of old-world elegance, a slower time.

A time when journeying by train meant handsome dining cars,

snug berths,

and the romance of traveling by night.

Traveling by train allows for contemplation and enjoyment as the world passes by outside,

and long stretches offer the perfect opportunity for reading and writing —

before you sit up in your seat or hang your head out the window as you near your next destination.

Hopefully, 2022 is the year to get out there and start seeing the world again.

Until then, …

(All images are from my Pinterest boards.)

Blossom time

blossom time

“Let us be grateful to people who make us happy, they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.” – Marcel Proust

B2

“April… hath put a spirit of youth in everything.” – William Shakespeare

Hood River Oregon

“There is no glory in star or blossom till looked upon by a loving eye; There is no fragrance in April breezes till breathed with joy as they wander by.” – William Cullen Bryant

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“Break open A cherry tree And there are no flowers; But the spring breeze Brings forth myriad blossoms.” – Ikkyu Sojun

Ursula's table

“In the cherry blossom’s shade there’s no such thing as a stranger.” – Kobayashi Issa

 

April 2

“The April winds are magical.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

 

A blossoms table

“Our spring has come at last with the soft laughter of April suns and shadow of April showers.” – Byron Caldwell Smith

birdhouse sunset

Early Spring

snowy quince

“The snow has not yet left the earth, but spring is already asking to enter your heart.”
― Anton Chekhov

“When spring came, even the false spring, there were no problems except where to be happiest.” – Ernest Hemingway

“That is one good thing about this world…there are always sure to be more springs.”
― L.M. Montgomery

“In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.” — Albert Camus

trees pink

“If winter comes, can spring be far behind?” –Percy Bysshe Shelley

pansies

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Pyrenees and Pilgrimage, Part 3 – Pamplona

In the north of Spain lies the Basque city of Pamplona, capital of Navarra. It’s a significant point on the pilgrimage route to Santiago de Compostella. The streets are full of pilgrims and hikers, as well as tourists taking in the charm of the old city.

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It’s a beautiful walking town, with the Spanish Pyrenees forming a dramatic backdrop and the Arga River flowing around the hilltop location. Walking routes from the Old Town take you to the  Taconera Park, full of flowers, benches, and gravel pathways. A sunken area that used to be a moat is home for a small herd of deer and several kinds of birds, including peacocks, ducks, and geese.

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The walk around the edge of the park offers views of the mountains and valley and reminds you of just how high the city is above the valley — there’s even a tram that takes passengers from the lower part of the city up to the Old City.

A short walk further and you can visit the citadel and the surrounding park. Built in the 16th and 17th centuries, massive bulwarks and stonework reveal part of the original pentagon shape. A museum there explains that the pentagon shape was once a popular design for fortification. (You can listen to the accompanying audio in several languages, including Basque, which is fascinating in itself.)

Pamplona fortress

(Photo – http://www.itinari.com)

The heart of Pamplona, and the most beautiful part, is the Old City. At its center is the Plaza del Castillo, a large square ringed with buildings, many with flowering balconies.

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Most of the streets are cobblestone, and there are several medieval cathedrals and beautiful architecture at every turn — and lots of restaurants, many of them with seating outside, part of the famous pintxo tradition. Throughout the day, but especially beginning at around 4:00pm and lingering late into the night, small appetizers, pintxos, are served with the local wines or other beverages. This tradition makes for a lively street life, especially as the night grows and music pours out onto the narrow streets.

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Pamplona, or Iruña as it is known in Basque, is most famous for “the Running of the Bulls” during the Festival of Saint Fermin in July. Ernest Hemingway wrote about the festival in his novel, The Sun Also Rises. And for this reason, Pamplona offers another sort of pilgrimage — a literary one. Pamplona is one of those rare locations that is specifically associated with an author. There’s a bust of Hemingway outside the bullring, and a life-size statue of him leaning against the bar at the Hotel Iruña. Photographs of him and his likeness are found throughout the city, especially in restaurants and gift shops.

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“Pamplona certainly owes some of its fame to its adopted son, Ernest Hemingway, who spent a considerable amount of time in Navarra during the Spanish Civil War and was a big fan of the San Fermin Festival.” (www.euskoguide.com)Book cover

There was a different festival held the week I was there, with celebrations in the Plaza. The city was full of festivities, musicians and performances, and schoolchildren holding hands as they skipped to the music.

I don’t know if it was the festival or the lively pintxo culture, but Pamplona struck me as one of the happiest places I had ever visited. The streets were full of tourists and local families, couples, and friends enjoying the delightfulness of the city — sitting at crowded outdoor cafes, stopping for ice cream, enjoying the street performers and musicians, well into the night.

Copy of Pamplona night level

 

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Though I loved so much about Pamplona, the Iruña Hotel held a special charm for me. It was full of old-world beauty in warm shades of sepia and globes of golden lights that reflected in the carved wooden mirrors.

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Sitting in the Hemingway Bar with its nooks and small balcony, it was easy to imagine an older, slower time, with people wearing different clothing and holding different conversations — and perhaps someone sitting alone at a table quietly penning a novel.

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