In less than a month’s time

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Vintage Cover for As Sweet As Honey

Vintage Cover for As Sweet As Honey

 

 

The first Tuesday in November my last two novels come out in paperback in Vintage. I am beyond thrilled, especially as I did not expect Inheritance to have a third rebirth. Beacon Press brought out my first novel as a trade book a decade after it first appeared, in 1990, in hardcover from Knopf, and they brought out Inheritance in trade as well. Now, thirteen years later, Inheritance will be back in a new paper edition. It is a young novel, in some ways younger in spirit than The Journey, not only because ita protagonist is a fifteen-year-old heroine. It features her relationship with a man twice her age, but the love story is really between herself and her mother.

I am over the moon that As sweet As Honey gets a second chance in print. I am partial to softcovers, the pocket-sized books you can slip in a purse, that can bend with ease, and swat a mosquito if necessary. I can dog-ear the pages, jot down a phone number. Books are living things after all.

 

Vintage cover for Inheritance

Vintage cover for Inheritance

Relativity, a domestic science

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Sometime in the last two seasons, I gained a year.  Whether it was because the year turned to 2013, or because I started a job, I was certain I was fifty-three years old.  I told everyone I was fifty-three, until last week, when I was filling out an insurance form, I realized I have been fifty-two all along.  Somehow, I cheated myself of a year, and leaped. So now in a month or so, I will become fifty-three, but where was the glory of my fifty-second year?  Had I known I was so young, I might have done something differently.  Taken a vacation, learned Italian.  Maybe I would have spent more nights up, arms up, catching hold of the exurberance fifty-two holds.  As it was, most nights I went to bed early, a milky bev and a book in hand.

Today, I gained several hours.  Looking at the clock, I was convinced that like most of my days, it was bound to be past one, and I had forgotten lunch, and I had to catch up on work.  But to my immense pleasure, it was ten minutes before eleven, hardly brunch.

To celebrate my fifty-second year (again), I opened up Dorrie Greenspan’s Baking and made her classic brownies. Then I took a walk.  I have many more days in my fifty-second year, and why waste any of it?

Fur Flying, Feet Out

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This morning, I thought I’d add a teaspoon of turmeric to my coffee since I have a cough and cold.  It was raining hard and I dashed outside to grab my newspaper which, despite being diligently tied and wrapped in plastic, was still sopping because a dog bit through the package.

 I left the paper to dry on the stairs and, balancing an assortment of small bowls and my coffee mug in one hand, I unlocked the door to my studio where I’m fostering a family of kittens and their mom.  Lately, they are interested in coming outside, so I did the keep-kitties-away-from-the-door-toe-step, but stumbled on one, and dropped the mug.Unlike my other travel mug, this mug has open vents.  

Turmeric is vivid saffron marigold yellow, and so was my coffee.  

And now the floor, the rug, the table.  

There went my think -I’ll -go -spend -time -with -the -kittens -and -drink- coffee -and -read- the- paper Sunday morning dream.  

I used the paper to clean up.

Turmeric stains.  

It looks like that other yellow associated with cats.

 I am thinking I will call my studio “It’s Only Turmeric.”