I know it's been a few months since I posted, but I've been torn (again) between editing and writing my two manuscripts, "Winnowing" and "Hafandeg" (which was also renamed briefly as "Place of Dreams"). I think of scenes and dialogue for both of them at the most inopportune moments, usually as I'm trying to go sleep, or even - really! - cleaning out the cat litter tray. They both want to be published, I know. Somehow, one of them will take control. I'll let you know when that happens. I really intend to publish at least one of them this year.
Meanwhile, I re-read "The Attic" (which I so enjoyed writing) the other day. My sister, who inspired that book, died last year, but she was near me, I felt, during that reading. What a life she had! How much of her did I really capture in the novel? She loved it, but did point out, rather crossly, that she was a virgin when she married. I laughed, and said it was a fictionalized biography, that the spicy bits are expected with contemporary novels. I think she voiced a distinct "Hurumph" at that.
Anyway, brazen or not, I've popped the details of The Attic here for you. Perhaps you'll "hurumph" at my audacity. Who do I think I am, promoting a novel that came out eight years ago? But good books never age, do they? I still re-read oldies like "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn" on a regular basis. I identify strongly with Francie. No comparison in subject matter, readability - or profitability - between me and Betty Smith, in fact, but I think we would have been friends.
I must thank Sarahbeth Purcell for her lovely review. I think she's a better writer than I am, incidentally, although her books are edgier than mine. I envy her that.
Until next time. Stay safe.
PS - I think Hafan Deg might be the major player this year. Can't stop writing it in my head.
