Lifescapes

LOVING ELEANOR Wins a Goldie!

Friend and fellow author Shelley Thrasher sent me this photo of the Goldie that Loving Eleanor won last night. The Goldie is awarded by the Golden Crown Literary Society at their annual conference, "the premier lesbian literary event for both authors and readers." Hick, Mrs. R, and I are doing a little happy dance--so pleased to be recognized by our lesbian friends and colleagues.

This makes the eighth important recognition for this biographical/historical novel. When I first began working on the project in 2014, I was daunted by the multiple challenges. The story would be told by a lesbian who was in love with the woman who rapidly became the most famous First Lady of all time. It was a story that centered on Eleanor Roosevelt's romantic love for another woman, not exactly the kind of thing most people would associate her with. I would have to do a great deal of research in the primary documents, in an era of American history in which I had not much more than a basic knowledge. After the novel was written, I submitted it to a dozen publishers and got exactly a dozen rejections--so added to the challenge of writing the book was the challenge of publishing it myself.

But I love a challenge. (Say "no" to me and hear me shout "YES!") I had a deep, strong conviction that this was a story that had to be told--and that now was the time to tell it. When Hick died in 1968, she had to hide the correspondence that documented the 30-year friendship, sealed in the FDR Presidential Library. In 1978, the letters (over 3000 of them!) were unsealed, and the story became public. But it was immediately and unfortunately mangled by a biographer who was afraid of linking Eleanor Roosevelt with a lesbian and did her best to diminish the relationship and negatively portray the subject of her biography. Some of the letters were published in 1998, and more of the story became available. But when it was discussed, it was still denied, "explained," and trivialized.

But we're in a new place now. There is still a long, long way to go—but the forward progress can’t be held back. And I am thrilled beyond words that a straight author can write a book about a deep, enduring, loving friendship between a lesbian journalist and the First Lady of the World (as Harry Truman called ER); publish it herself; and win an array of awards. Please accept this deeply grateful thank you to all of you--readers, friends, and sponsors of these award programs. You made this possible.

 

In bloom this week: Indian paintbrush

The paintbrush are splashing color across the green meadows this week, waiting for the arrival of the first hummingbirds. The "flower" of this lovely native plant is really a cluster of colored bracts, specialized stiff, hairy leaves that conceal a tiny flower. There's no convenient place to perch, so the flowers can only be fertilized by a hovering insect or bird. And because the true flowers are deep inside the attractive bracts, the pollinator needs a long "sipper." That's where the hummingbirds come in, with their long beaks and tongues.

Interesting paintbrush lore. The blossom cluster is said to be sweet, and were eaten by Indians. The Chippewa used a decoction of the plant as a shampoo, and other tribes used it to treat venereal diseases, rheumatism, kidney ailments, and even as a contraceptive. (For more on that subject, see this Quora post.) However, the plants concentrate selenium and can be toxic, especially when they're growing in alkaline soil. Another interesting note: the plant is hemiparasitic: that is, it has specialized roots called haustoria that invade a host (usually a grass) and suck out water and nutrients. (Mistletoe is another hemiparasitic plant, but it grows in trees, rather than in the ground.) 

Book report. Last week, I reported that Loving Eleanor has been shortlisted for the Ben Franklin award. This week, the book has two more award nominations: the Lammy and Foreword Indies. Hick, ER, and I are hoping to bring home some gold, so keep your fingers crossed, please. The Ben Franklin will be announced early in April, the Lammy and Foreword Indies in June.

Meanwhile, the Dahlias are off to another 1930s adventure. This one takes place in October, 1934--the Darling economy is looking up, but too many people are too entranced with that huckster, Huey P. Long, who is promising to make "every man a king" and fix what ails the country. Sound familiar? The parallels between that period and this continue to astonish me. The signature plant for this book: clover. I'm still tinkering with the title.

Queen Anne's Lace goes off to my editor next week, along with proposals for more books in that series. We'll see how that works out. And The General's Women (my latest biographical/historical fiction) is out and doing very well. If your library doesn't have it, please ask them to get it for you. It's also available via online retailers and by special order, from your local bookstores.

Homestead report. The warmest winter in recorded Texas history is segueing into a warm spring. The perennial onions are budding already, nearly ready to bloom--in all my years of gardening, I've never seen them so early. But I have to confess that it's been a treat, especially compared to the cruel late-winter storm in the North and Northeast. The Girls are laying regularly; the peas need a replant (poor germination this spring: the seed?). But the potatoes are thriving and it's time to start thinking tomatoes. Especially lovely, Pecan Creek, which is running full and clear, between banks green with fern. Inhabiting this refuge is a special pleasure when the world beyond is as ugly and catastrophic as it is just now. 

Reading note: To inhabit a place means literally to have made it a habit, to have made it the custom and ordinary practice of our lives, to have learned how to wear a place like a familiar garment, like the garments of sanctity that nuns once wore. The word habit, in its now-dim original form, meant "to own." We own places not because we possess the deeds to them, but because they have entered the continuum of our lives.--Paul Gruchow

Snow in the Mountains

I was delighted to wake up yesterday to this lovely snowfall here in the Sangres, in north-central New Mexico. My writing/reading retreat is nearly over, and the snow was a farewell gift. I'll be driving back to Texas tomorrow, where we see snow once in a decade, if that.

It's been a productive three weeks. I dug into the Gertrude Bell books (hers and others'), not quite sure which way the material would take me. I knew I'd be working with biographical fiction, but should it center around her romances, her archaeological work, or something else? Her letters and diaries from her expedition to Ha'il in 1913-1914 have pulled me into that part of her life--her work for the British government as an espionage agent. There's so much material; I'm thinking it may become a trilogy. I've started to write and have been sharing the material with Bill, who knows the period much better than I do and can offer suggestions. It's always exciting to be perched on the brink of a new project, and I have to confess to being pretty much obsessed by it. 

Meanwhile, The General's Women (the third of my historical novels published through my Persevero Press) is moving toward its March 7 publication date. There were the usual small glitches in the formatting process, but they were resolved easily and the upload went without a hitch. I love Ann McMann's cover (I'll have a post or two on the cover design/development process). The novel (the story of Kay Summersby's love affair with General Eisenhower during World War 2) is available now for Kindle pre-sale. It will also be available in paperback and hardcover on Amazon; in print and ebook at Barnes & Noble online, and on iBook. Librarians and booksellers can get the book through Ingram. Librarians, I'll also offer it via Self-e (there's a selection process involved, I think). Reviewers, you can get a review copy from NetGalley next week. 

And Loving Eleanor (the story of the enduring friendship of Lorena Hickok and Eleanor Roosevelt) continues to win literary prizes! In addition to an Ippy, it has won the Library Journal's Best Indie eBook Romance award and the USA Best Book LGBT award. Another award (a BIG one!) will be announced next week, so stay tuned.

It's been good to get away from television's political charade (no TV here), but I've stayed posted on the disconcerting developments via the Internet--it's like watching a slow-motion movie of a huge bridge collapsing or the Lincoln Monument falling to rubble. The latest lunacy is absolutely incredible:    

The Chinese government said Saturday it will return a U.S. naval drone seized last week in the South China Sea, a step toward defusing maritime tensions between the two Pacific powers. President-elect Donald Trump reacted to the news by telling them he doesn’t want it back. “We should tell China that we don’t want the drone they stole back.- let them keep it!” he tweeted Saturday evening.

Reading note. As democracy is perfected, the office of president represents, more and more closely, the inner soul of the people. On some great and glorious day the plain folks of the land will reach their heart's desire at last and the White House will be adorned by a downright moron.--H.L. Mencken, Baltimore Sun (26 July 1920)

 

 

 

Time Out

Into my second week on retreat at Coyote Ridge, on the eastern slope of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains--and loving it. Lots of reading on a new writing project, time in the evenings to watch a good film, and quiet writing and thinking time all day. I didn't bring Molly this time: walking her in snow and sub-freezing temps is definitely not fun. But it feels strange, being without a dog. A good reminder of the importance of our animal friends' companionship. 

My new project. A novel (or more than one) about Gertrude Bell, with a likely focus on her espionage work in the Middle East in the years before World War 1. I know the shape of the story I want to tell. What I don't know yet is how far to fictionalize the narrative. In my other biographical fiction (A Wilder Rose, Loving Eleanor, The General's Women) I've kept fictional "inserts" to a minimum. That is, the central plot stays as close as possible to the real story, and there are few fictional sub-plots. But Gertrude's life in Arabia is so dramatic that it seems to me to invite fictional subplots, in the same way that the Lawrence of Arabia story has been fictionalized. If you have thoughts on this topic, please share. I'd love to know your opinion.

Another award for Loving Eleanor! The Library Journal recently named Loving Eleanor as its Indie eBook Romance Award winner for 2016! I'm thrilled, both as an author and as an independent publisher. The book is available in nearly 500 libraries and is being adopted by an increasing number of library book clubs. (If it's not available in your library yet, ask your librarian to order it for you.) Foreword Reviews recently interviewed me about the writing and publishing of the book.Thanks to them for their recognition!

As you know, I'm a strong supporter of independent publishing. One of my favorite projects is the Sarton Women's Book Award program, now entering its seventh year. I love women's books and I'm very proud of this program (bragging here: I created it and help to coordinate it). Some of the very best work in publishing is being done in independent presses. 

Doing something. As I've written here and here, there's no likelihood of my accepting the new administration. I am putting my money where my mouth is by joining and actively supporting projects that stand for the values I believe in. If you're looking for work you can do, check out Wall-of-Us, which offers four weekly ideas for "acts of resistance." We can't do everything, but we can do something.

Reading note. The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.--Elie Wiesel.

 

Another Prize for LOVING ELEANOR!

And more good news for Loving Eleanor! The book--the true story of the enduring friendship of Eleanor Roosevelt and Lorena Hickok, has won a Best Book Award. This is especially important for me, because Loving Eleanor is one of the soon-to-be three books published by my own Persevero Press: A Wilder Rose (2013), Loving Eleanor (2016), and The General's Women: A Novel (coming in 2017). I love learning new ways to do things and exploring new landscapes, and publishing my own work is immeasurably satisfying.

But Persevero Press could not be a success without readers. Thanks to you for your support and friendship!

On Writing Women's Biographical/Historical Fiction

 

Most readers know me as a mystery author, but for the past five or six years, I’ve been exploring biographical fiction. My first biographical novel, A Wilder Rose, told the story of Rose Wilder Lane, the woman who rewrote the family stories her mother—Laura Ingalls Wilder—had written down. Together, they created the Little House books. When publishers weren’t interested in the book, I published it under my own imprint, Persevero Press. A Wilder Rose has sold 80,000 copies and has been optioned for television.

My second biographical novel, based on letters held in the FDR Presidential Library, tells the story of the decades-long friendship of Eleanor Roosevelt and Lorena Hickok. Loving Eleanor was also published by Persevero Press and has won numerous awards. The third, set during WW2, is about Kay Summersby, Mamie Eisenhower, and Ike, the man they both loved. Entitled The General's Women, it is based on Kay’s memoirs, Eisenhower biographies, and letters I found in the Eisenhower Presidential Library. It, too, is an award-winning book.

Writing biographical fiction is—for me—deeply satisfying work, for I am more interested in history than in fiction. But I am more interested in her stories than I am in his stories. I want to know about women who have set out to do things, discover things, make their way in a man’s world. Women who want to change that world and the people in it. Unfortunately, history—that is, our public memory, the culture’s corporate record of events and ideas—is not only written by the winners but written by the men who have won. The stories of women are hidden in history, behind his stories, because their achievements often challenge commonly-accepted beliefs about how women behave. So I spend a lot of time digging around in unpublished diaries, letters, autobiographical fragments, pieces of memoir—listening for voices that need to be heard. Silenced voices, misunderstood voices, whispers. Not history. Her stories.

It’s a good thing that I enjoy research, because any kind of historical fiction—fiction set in the past—requires quite a lot of it. Biographical fiction, which toes a delicate line between acknowledged fact and imagined truth, creates its own special research demands. For Loving Eleanor, I started in the usual place: by reading everything I could find to read. When I began the project, there wasn’t much published material about Lorena Hickok, except for brief introductions to her Depression-era investigative reports to Harry Hopkins and an inadequate biography. The Roosevelts, of course, are the subject of dozens of books, so I ended up with a full bookcase and plenty of film and online resources.

But since I’m interested in the hidden stories, what I’m chiefly after are unpublished documents. It is our great good fortune that Lorena Hickok, who clearly wanted somebody to tell the story of her friendship with the First Lady, donated her collection of letters and other documents to the FDR Presidential Library. Reading them is very much like listening to hundreds of hours of private, intimate conversation. I found myself pulled deeply into the worlds that Hick and Eleanor shared. That’s when the real questions began to arise. Who are these women, behind the personas history has created? What do they want, what do they need? What are they afraid of? What is it they have to learn? Where is the real story, the hidden story? These are the questions that take us deep into the imaginative heart of fiction, but keep us within the boundaries established by the biographical and historical facts—the truths—that careful and persistent research can discover.

I once heard filmmaker Errol Morris speak about making documentary films. “We don’t judge a documentary film on whether it tells the truth,” he said, “but whether it attempts to seek the truth and asks you to think about the relationship between the film and what the truth might be—if it could be found.”

That’s what I’m trying to do with these biographical fictions about women’s hidden lives. I want to take us toward the emotional truth of their lives. I believe that we can find it.

 

Reading note. I often tell people who want to write historical fiction: don't read all that much about the period you're writing about; read things from the period that you're writing about. There's a tendency to stoke up on a lot of biography and a lot of history, and not to actually get back to the original sources.--Thomas Mallon

Lorena Hickok: At Home (Part 1)

Lorena Hickok, one of the two main characters in my book, Loving Eleanor, is best known for her 30-year friendship with Eleanor Roosevelt. But, quite apart from that personal relationship, Hick (as everyone called her) led a fascinating professional and personal life. As a writer of biographical fiction, I like to know as much as I possibly can about the people I write about--and that includes the places where they lived.

When Hick came to New York in 1928 (from Minneapolis via San Francisco), she worked for a couple of months for one of the tabloids, then was hired away by the Associated Press: the first woman in the flagship New York AP bureau. She got an apartment at 10 Mitchell Place, a new 14-story red-brick apartment building just a quick walk from the East River, where she could run with her German shepherd, Prinz. The photo above is a modern view of her apartment, which has a balcony and a river view. Hick's furniture would have been different, of course--and the kitchen has probably been updated. The rent: $65 a month, which was exactly what she got paid per week--pretty good money for a woman, at that time. (Current valuation of this apartment: around $480,000.)

Hick was known as an excellent cook (Eleanor, not so much), and she enjoyed entertaining her newspaper and theater friends at weekend brunches in her little apartment. (She loved the theater and had many friends among actors, directors, playwrights.) It was sometimes a little crowded, she admitted, but "we were all good friends." She entertained Eleanor here too; ER sometimes stayed here when she came to New York from Washington.

Hick adored New York, loved its energy, vitality, variety--a "city with a heart," she called it. As a reporter, she spent as much time as she could on the streets, finding stories everywhere. New York gave her good work, a place to live completely, a place to find love. As a rising professional woman, it was the home of her heart.

Hick sublet her Mitchell Place apartment during the years she worked for Harry Hopkins at FERA (1933-1936). In that period, she was on the road as an investigative reporter for months at a time; she spent holidays at the White House or with her sister Ruby or friends in New York. She moved back to the apartment in 1937, when she left FERA and went to work as a publicist for the World's Fair, with an office in the Empire State Building. She kept the apartment until 1940, when her work--and her life--changed again. Watch for Part 2 of this little blog series, coming soon.

Reading note: “It was possible in this wonderful city [New York] for that nameless little boy -for any of its millions- to have a decent chance to scale the walls and achieve what they wished. Wealth, rank or an imposing name counted for nothing. The only credential the city asked was the boldness to dream. For those who did, it unlocked its gates and its treasures, not caring who they were or where they came from.--Moss Hart 

HerStories: Lorena Hickok, Biographer

This is Part 2 of a series of posts about Lorena Hickok, the journalist whose friendship helped to put Eleanor Roosevelt into the media spotlight--and the central character in my novel, Loving Eleanor. Part 1 is about Hick's work as a journalist. But she didn't just write newspaper stories. After she retired from political life in 1945, she wrote biographies. This post is a quick sketch of that part of her writing career. 

In 1952, at the suggestion of Eleanor's literary agent, Nannine Joseph, Hick undertook the writing of profiles of women in political life--the first book of its kind. Called Ladies of Courage, it was an inspiring account of women’s struggle for recognition in American public and political life in the thirty-five years since women had gained the vote. ER lent the luster of her name to the book and Tommy typed the manuscript, but Hick spent the better part of two years on the research—including extensive interviews with her subjects—and the writing. Before she submitted the finished manuscript, she shared it with ER, who wrote: At last tonight I’ve finished reading your material [for Ladies of Courage] and it is simply swell I think. Much more interesting than I thought it could possibly be made.

The book, which included profiles of Frances Perkins, Clare Boothe Luce, Helen Gahagan Douglas, and Oveta Culp Hobby, was published in 1954. Thanks to ER’s name recognition, it received extensive newspaper attention. Hick traveled around the country, speaking to women’s groups about the book and about the challenges women faced in political life. In recognition of her authorship, ER assigned her the royalties, which cumulatively amounted to about $4,000 (about $35,000 in 2015).

As a journalist, Hick had always been deeply interested in people who had stories, who met extraordinary challenges. In the profiles of the Ladies of Courage, Hick had found a narrative voice that enabled her to tell these stories. After that book was published, she began work on what would be three biographies for young readers in Grosset & Dunlap’s much-heralded Signature Books series: The Story of Franklin D. Roosevelt (1956), The Story of Helen Keller (1958), and The Story of Eleanor Roosevelt (1959). For Scholastic, Hick also wrote a biography of FDR, this one focusing on his early political life: The Road to the White House: FDR, The Pre-Presidential Years (1962).

Of the four books for young readers, Hick’s biography of Helen Keller was the most successful. It was adopted by several school-affiliated book clubs, and sales were boosted even further by the 1957 teleplay by William Gibson, The Miracle Worker, followed by the Broadway play and the 1962 film of the starring Patty Duke. The royalties would help to support Hick for the rest of her life.

When Hick was doing the research for the Keller biography, she became deeply interested in Keller’s teacher, and went on to write a biography for older teens called The Touch of Magic: The Story of Helen Keller's Great Teacher, Anne Sullivan Macy. The book was published by Dodd, Mead in 1961. Hick felt a special admiration for Macy, who had given Helen Keller her voice. “No author ever finished a book with greater regret,” she wrote in her foreword. “During the months I worked on this book she became as real to me as a living person . . . I miss her.” I can’t help wondering if Hick saw something of herself in Anne Sullivan Macy. Perhaps Hick thought that the empowering help she gave Eleanor—encouraging her to do the press conferences, supporting her early efforts as a writer, urging her to write her newspaper column—was something like the help that Teacher (Helen Keller's name for Macy) provided her student. Teacher gave Helen her voice and helped to create a place for her in the world. It's no exaggeration to say that Hick gave Eleanor her voice, as well.

While Hick was working on the Macy biography, she struck up a professional friendship with Allen Klots, her editor at Dodd, Mead. When The Touch of Magic was finished, Hick proposed to Klots the project that became Eleanor Roosevelt: Reluctant First Lady, the book for which Hick is probably best known. It sketches out their most intense friendship without, of course, giving clues to its intimacy. Finished in 1961, Reluctant First Lady was published just prior to ER’s death. it sold well and the royalties from that and her other projects provided Hick with something approaching a comfortable living.

Throughout her adult life, Hick was severely diabetic, and the disease began to curtail her professional activities in the late 1930s. When she finished Reluctant First Lady, she began a biography of labor leader Walter Reuther (also for Dodd, Mead), but her failing eyesight compelled her to stop not long before her death in 1968. That project was completed by Jean Gould and published under the title Walter Reuther: Labor’s Rugged Individualist—with Hick’s name on the cover, as well as Gould’s. That book brought to eight the number of biographies Hick produced in the last fifteen years of her life.

And speaking of biographies: a new dual biography of Hick and Eleanor, by Susan Quinn, will be out in September. I haven't seen it yet, but I'm anxious to read it. I hope that Quinn will pay attention to Hick as a writer, as well as the woman who helped to give Eleanor Roosevelt her voice. Hick's first biographer, Doris Faber, failed her. She deserves a biographer who understands and pays attention to her professional work, as well as her empowering friendship with Eleanor Roosevelt.

Reading note: It's best not to tell a story at all unless you know you can do it right. You must be very careful, for without knowing it you can change the world.--Vera Nazarian

HerStories: Lorena Hickok, Journalist

There are some unique challenges in biographical fiction.

Over the years, I’ve written historical novels featuring Beatrix Potter, Rose Wilder Lane, Jennie Churchill, Lily Langtry, Rudyard Kipling, and more. All of these books have required quite a lot of research, which is supposed to reveal the full story. It never does, of course--it just reveals more questions. Biographical fiction, which toes a delicate line between acknowledged fact and imagined truth, creates its own special research and writing demands. And sometimes, extraordinary challenges.

For Loving Eleanor—the story of Lorena Hickok's friendship with Eleanor Roosevelt —I started in the usual place: by reading everything I could find about Lorena (Hick, she was called). As it turned out, there wasn't much readily accessible material, except for brief introductions to her Depression-era investigative reports to Harry Hopkins, a woefully inadequate biography published in 1980 by Doris Faber, and Rodger Streitmatter's notes in Empty Without You, his collection of letters written by Hick and Eleanor. I had a lot of digging to do.

Hick was a woman who went through life with her elbows out. She began working as a journalist at the Battle Creek Journal in 1913 when she was just 19. She had a gift for telling a taut, well-honed story, and her abilities were quickly recognized. Two years later, she moved to the Milwaukee Sentinel, briefly to the New York Tribune, then (in 1918), to the Minneapolis Tribune, where she earned her stripes as a reporter, feature writer, and Sunday editor. In an unusual move, her editor, Tom Dillon, assigned her to the sports desk. Her breezy, conversational style was new to sports journalism, and as a female sportswriter, her work was groundbreaking. 

In 1927, at the end of a failed love affair, Hick went back to New York, first to the tabloid Mirror and then to the Associated Press. She was the first woman to be hired in the flagship New York bureau. Fearless and energetic, she quickly earned a by-line. In her first year at the AP, she covered the sinking of the steamship Vestris, which gave her another first: she was the first woman to have a bylined front page story in the New York Times. As an investigative reporter, she covered politics (FDR’s election as New York governor in 1928); political corruption (the downfall of New York mayor Jimmy Walker and the hugely complicated trial of banker Charles E. Mitchell); and sensational crime (the Lindbergh baby kidnapping). I’ve found her bylined stories in hundreds of newspapers across the country, and almost every story is a standout.

In 1933, at the top of her game, Hick left the AP. It was an anguished decision she felt she was forced to make. Her deepening personal (and very intimate) friendship with the new First Lady made it impossible for her to write objectively about the Roosevelt administration. She believed that she was ethically compromised, and she did the honest--but very painful--thing. She went to work for Harry Hopkins, the director of the Federal Emergency Relief Administration. For the next two years, she traveled across the country, investigating government-sponsored relief programs and reporting on Depression-era conditions in 32 states. Her nearly 80 confidential FERA reports, written in bleak hotel rooms late at night, provide us with vivid, no-holds-barred descriptions of the appalling—and yet heroic—plight of millions of destitute Americans. She felt their anguish. Even now, reading her reports, we can feel it, too.

When Hick left FERA in 1936, it was the end of her work as an investigative journalist--but not the end of her writing career. In another post, we'll take a look at her 15-year career as a biographer.

Reading note: The thing that most attracts me to historical fiction is taking the factual record as far as it is known, using that as scaffolding, and then letting imagination build the structure that fills in those things we can never find out for sure.--Geraldine Brooks

In bloom this week: New Dawn Heirloom Rose

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So many beautiful flowers this spring--but this is one of my very favorites, a New Dawn heirloom rose, blooming on the trellis on our deck. We've had lovely rains all spring, and (thankfully) escaped the flooding that has plagued so many. I'm grateful, and grateful for every beautiful day, sunny or cloudy, rain or shine. The bluebonnets have been especially gorgeous, and the paintbrush, blackfoot daisy, huisach daisy, and more. Simply heaven. 

Garden report. We'll be digging the early spring potatoes in a couple of weeks, the later bed toward the end of May. The beans (Kentucky Wonder) are climbing their trellis, the peas are blooming, and the tomatoes (the early Porters) have begun to set fruit. We're a couple of weeks early this year, thanks to the warm temps (March was the warmest ever) and the El Nino rains. The Highland Lakes are full and the LCRA (Lower Colorado River Authority) is opening floodgates. Our lake is full and our creek is running sweet and clear, bank to bank. (Much less happily, atmospheric CO2 is off the charts. Not good news for the residents of our planet on Earth Day 2016.) 

Book report. I'm delighted to tell you that Loving Eleanor (available in print, ebook, large print, and audio) has won an IPPY silver medal--and plenty of praise from readers. Those Amazon reviews will make a difference in the long-term future of this book, so if you've read it, please go over to Amazon and leave a comment. If you haven't, well, now's a pretty good time.

On the bookshelf: I'm collecting material and doing research on another Roosevelt-related project, the life of FDR's cousin and friend, Daisy Suckley. Daisy was charmingly played by Laura Linney in Hyde Park on the Hudson, but that movie was far more fiction than fact and full of historical errors, to boot. Unnecessary errors, that weren't even in the service of the dramatization. I know it's Hollywood, but can't they do better?

On the desk: "The General's Women" is still in the works: Eisenhower, his driver Kay Summersby, and his wife Mamie--a wartime romantic triangle. I took several weeks out to work on the Story Circle conference, but I'm now about 70% done with a first draft and plan to have a finished manuscript by the end of the year. Then it's on to the next mystery, China Bayles' 26th outing, Queen Anne's Lace. I feel incredibly blessed to be able to work on a book and look forward to another project or two at the same time. Doing what I want to do and choose to do and loving it, with no end in sight...

Meanwhile, Blood Orange was just published this month, in ebook, print, large-print, and audio. And the Robin Paige Victorian/Edwardian mysteries (yes, the entire series) is being reprinted by a British publisher. It's nice to see that older series given a new lease on life.

Teaching, Talking, Traveling. Lots of other things going on in the next few months, too. If you're in the Houston area, please join me for a book talk/signing at Murder by the Book on May 1. I'm speaking to the Austin Herb Society on May 3 and to the Pioneer Unit of the Herb Society of America on June 9.  And I'm teaching an online class on dialogue for Story Circle. It's a busy spring!

Reading note. The truest art I would strive for in any work would be to give the page the same qualities as earth: weather would land on it harshly, light would elucidate the most difficult truths; wind would sweep away obtuse padding. Finally, the lessons of impermanence taught me this: loss constitutes an odd kind of fullness; despair empties out into an unquenchable appetite for life.--Gretel Ehrlich