Recently in Coast Road Category

My blog of 6’18 referred to An Accidental Woman as a “companion” to Lake News. Does that mean sequel? In my mind, no. I think of a sequel as a book that picks up the same characters where they leave off in an earlier book and tells more of their story. An Accidental Woman does use the same little lake town and does revisit the same characters as in Lake News, but the main characters from the first book become secondary to allow focus on a different group of people.

OK. Maybe I’m arguing semantics here. But I truly don’t see An Accidental Woman as a sequel. Both books stand on their own.

I first conceived of the Lake Henry books as a foursome, each celebrating a different New England season. There would be apple cider making in the fall, maple sugaring in the winter, leafing out in late spring, and tourism in summer. Truthfully, it was a marketing move; readers love revisiting the same places. And hey, I’ve designed and built more towns than you’d ever believe. The idea of not having to create a town from scratch was appealing.

I wrote Lake News in 1998, wrote The Vineyard in 1999, The Woman Next Door in 2000, then, in 2001, wrote An Accidental Woman. I thought it would be easy. Wrong. Although An Accidental Woman focused on Poppy Blake, the handicapped sister of Lake News’s Lily Blake, many of the other characters carried over – and I had to get them right. By “right” I mean keep them consistent with the first book. Their appearance, their interests, even the streets of the town had to be consistent – because if there’s one thing I’ve learned as a writer, it’s that if I make a mistake, you readers pick it up.

Way back, in Coast Road, I referred to a Volkswagen having radiator trouble; an astute reader pointed out that Volkswagens don’t have radiators. More recently, in The Secret Between Us, I referred to Dylan Monroe playing in the ninth inning of his Little League game; a savvy reader reminded me (how could I have forgotten, after sitting through so many of my sons’ games?) that Little League games only have six innings!

By the time I was done writing An Accidental Woman, my copy of Lake News was riddled with so many Post-Its that I didn't know which ones marked what. More importantly, by that time, I was tired of Lake Henry. Creating a town from scratch, with the freedom from accountability that allowed, suddenly didn’t seem so bad!

Many readers have asked if there will be a third or fourth Lake Henry book. Right now, none is on the drawing board. Perhaps you can understand why?

My family doesn’t have a lot of holiday traditions -- in part because my mother died early and simply wasn’t there to start them. So I live vicariously through the long-standing traditions of friends, and I get pleasure hearing the stories of others.

On that score, I received an amazing letter last week from a reader of mine, Pamela DuVall. It is so beautifully written, and so captures the holiday spirit, that I asked if I could reprint it for you all to see. She gave her permission.

“Dear Barbara, I thought it was time to write you and thank you for your wonderful work. I am 44, a wife and mother of two daughters, living in Folsom, California. My Mother passed away from cancer in 1999. She was 56. I, like she, loved to read. Every year, I couldn't wait to get my hands on the tell-tale wrapped book under the Christmas tree with my name on it. Growing up, I generally devoured the gift in three days. As an adult, I looked forward to spending a few minutes here and there, reading her pick of the year. On December 25, 1998, my mother gave me the last of the 'Christmas books'. She died in May of 1999. My mother and I were very close. Because of the caring nature of my husband and family, I was able to spend much of the last months with her. It was the greatest gift of my life. So, why am I writing to you? Well, I had lost my desire to read and went years without the hunger for the written word. Last Christmas, I felt a familiar twinge, and began looking for the book my Mother had given me in 1998. After opening a few covers, I found her signature tag line: Pam, Merry reading '98! Love, Mom and Dad. It was "Coast Road", and I wrapped my self in a hand knit afgan and began to read! I have since read "For My Daughters", "The Woman Next Door", and just finished "Family Tree". As a long-time knitter, I think "Family Tree" is my favorite, oh, perhaps, second to "Coast Road". I will be picking up "Three Wishes" to start tomorrow. Thank you for your inspiring stories and your part in bringing me back to the joy of reading!”

Thank you, Pam, for sharing such heartfelt thoughts. It is particularly meaningful to me to share your letter today, which is the anniversary of my own mother's death. I like to think that book-giving is something she might have done. Putting books at the center of a holiday tradition is the best idea ever, especialy when it immortalizes the giver. Please think of your mom each time you read Coast Road.

As for the rest of us, here we are, less than two weeks from Christmas. If anyone out there hasn’t found quite the right gift yet, please reread Pam’s note and think of starting a tradition with a book. What is that big blank front page meant for if not an inscription?

Do you already have holiday traditions that live on, year after year? I’d love to hear about them as we approach Christmas 2007. Why not post a comment here for all of us to read?

That’s what I get from Chelsea. For those of you who don’t know, Chelsea is my cat. We adopted her fifteen years ago, just when my book, The Passions of Chelsea Kane, was making its debut, hence her name. She’s a diluted calico, various shades of gray and white and pale apricot, and though she didn’t come with papers, she is the most precious thing that currently lives with my husband and me.

Many of you know her from the old days, when I used to post photos of her on my website, and you’ve asked about her, hence this blog. She’s fine and well, thank you for asking. She moves a little slower now than she used to, and has a health problem here and there, but she’s aging beautifully.

Chelsea was our very first pet. My husband wasn’t wild about animals, and I felt I was already taking care of plenty of them, in the shape of my three sons. But I had always wanted a cat – I still have the stuffed cats from my childhood, one of which looks exactly like Chelsea – and there was this frightened little ten-week-old creature, wanting a home. It took my husband a solid month before Chelsea was napping against his leg, but it’s been uphill ever since.

I can’t begin to explain what Chelsea gives us. Being a cat, she is independent. She’s also relatively self-sufficient, though I do have a faithful cat sitter who visits her each day when we’re out of town. She can be needy, sleeping tucked against me at night or leading us to the bathroom sink three, four, five times a day to hold a glass of fresh water for her to drink. She loves being brushed, though she grooms herself quite nicely, thank you.

And she purrs. She is calm. She is constant. She lets us know she’s aware of us and appreciative of our being there. She loves us – loves us whether we say the wrong thing to each other, make a bad decision regarding our kids, or mess up at work. She loves us whether we have a bad hair day or gain ten pounds or smell of Caesar salad garlic – and yes, she senses when we’re sick and stays close by.

Naturally, I've written cats into several of my books. There was Guinevere, in Coast Road, Victoria in An Accidental Woman, and Veronica in Family Tree. All have a wisdom beyond their years, as does, I swear, my Chelsea.

I know all the cute little sayings, like “Dogs have masters, cats have staff,” but, if that’s so, I’m privileged to be in her employ.