Ellen Meeropol

it's that delicious time of year again, when I look back at the books I've read and enjoyed and share my favorites with you. Here they are, in no particular order. I note that following the trend of past years, most are published by small/independent presses. I love that independent publishing exists and I hope you'll join me in supporting the books they find and bring to us. Happy reading!

THE VANISHING OF ROSE B by Nancy Garruba. A tender and intimate portrait of a family, The Vanishing of Rose B. is a spiral of a novel in two voices. Moving back and forth in time, Frances and Claire unravel the intricate layers of their childhood with their mother Rose and the meaning of what's left behind when she's gone. In prose that is taut and poignant, the novel asks us to consider the stories and objects of our past: what do we cherish, what do we turn away from, what must we reckon with.

COUNTING LOST STARS by Kim van Alkemade has what I love most in a book - I learned something new, was moved deeply, and am in love with the characters. The author skillfully weaves dual narratives—1960's computer programming student Rita Klein's unwanted pregnancy and the adoption of her baby, and 1941 Holland punch-card operator during the German invasion—into a poignant and politically and compelling story.

CITY OF SMOKE AND SEA by Malia Márquez captured me from the first pages. Queenie's adventure is a wild romp of a ride, offering moments of laugh-out-loud funny as well as serious self-reinvention. Skillfully balanced between literary and speculative fiction, this fast-paced novel is an homage to the land, storytelling, and family connection, with a generous dusting of magic.

THICKAFOG by Caleb Mason is part mystery, part ethnography, part complex character study. Mason welcomes the reader to Maine island life and culture—and it may surprise you. Archer Island is, in many ways, the main character and is well-paired with the human protagonist, Jon. Reading this book made me feel like I was invited to dinner and an evening of lively conversation in a complicated and glorious place I'd like to know better. Highly recommended.

TRESPASSERS by Áine Greaney. These stories move back and forth between Ireland and the U.S., linking the two cultures and questioning the meaning of home. Girls and women struggle with their families, their choices, their transitions. Sometimes tender, sometimes angry, sometimes heartbreaking, these characters always feel true and their stories have stayed with me.

CROSSING FROM SHORE TO SHORE by Jean P. Moore. Part love story, part historical fiction, part exploration of injustice and resistance, Crossing From Shore to Shore offers a propulsive and poignant narrative of immigrants, repression and collateral damage. Erasmo and Amelia are young Italian newcomers to New Britain, Connecticut on the cusp of WWI. Deeply in love, they feel the anti-immigrant prejudice and join anarchists working for equality; then Erasmo and his brother are framed for murder by federal Red Scare agents. Decades later, Erasmo's great niece, haunted by the story her father told her once and then never again mentioned, tracks down the elderly Amelia to unravel the family secrets. The novel, narrated by Amelia, her great niece, and young Erasmo, dramatizes an age-old and fiercely topical question: how much would you risk to fight injustice?

THE SHAPE OF WHAT REMAINS by Lisa C. Taylor. The loss of a child is a parent's worst nightmare, and ten years after the hit-and-run death of six-year-old Serena, her mother has not moved on. Teresa is frozen in grief, her marriage a sham, and her work-life moribund. In The Shape of What Remains, Lisa C. Taylor offers the reader an emotionally satisfying story against the background of a poet's lyrical observations, the heartbreak music of Janis Joplin, and the complications of an imperfect family. Teresa's journey to rebuild her life is challenging material; Taylor evokes empathy without sentimentality, character screw-ups without judgment. Highly recommended.

THORNS OF THE MESQUITE by Patricia Lee Lewis. This is my favorite kind of historical fiction, using the lens of looking back to better understand the present and the future. Lewis' book is rich with a celebration of place and unflinching in the depiction of what it meant to be a woman in 1938 West Texas ranch country. Dona and Annalou are resilient characters, and they have become my literary friends and heroines.

Every year I tell myself not to bother with this list. There are so many "best books" out there. But reading is one of life's most delicious pleasures, and I can't help myself. These are the books that I loved, cried over, despaired over, and still think about in 2024. I'd love to know what you think....

Prophet Song by Paul Lynch
This novel is not for the faint of heart. It is one of the most brutal, most terrifying, and most important books I've ever read. I could only read a few pages at a time but could not stop, needed to finish it. Without much punctuation or paragraphs, the writing is propulsive and raw. Months later, I can't stop thinking about it….

Arroyo Circle, by JoeAnn Hart
Climate fiction might be the most important subgenre of fiction in these times; it's certainly what interests me most deeply. This novel is a perfect example of why that's true. It's an ambitious and fast-paced story of wildfire and pandemic and flood told through the eyes of characters living on the margins of our communities and the natural world. Entertaining, sobering, and thought-provoking, this novel grabbed me from the first pages. I loved it.
 
Colored Television, by Danzy Senna
I've been a fan of Senna's since her debut novel "Caucasia." Her writing is smart and funny; it's snarky and sometimes profound. For those of us still trying to figure out how to negotiate identity politics and the deeper issues of race and class bias in our culture, this new novel has some thoughts to add to our understanding.
 
Swift River, by Essie J. Chambers
I bought this novel after hearing the author read from it. Despite the noisy room making it hard to hear, I loved Diamond's voice, the western MA setting and the rich historical background about sundown towns and northern racism. This story, it turns out, is a page turner with gravitas. Highly recommended.
 
Many Mothers of Ivy Puddingstone by Randy Susan Meyers
I approached reading this novel with the mixed emotions I feel when beginning any novel set in the activism of the 1960s. With fascination, because my world view and personhood was formed in that landscape. And with trepidation, because the author might get it wrong. That period of intense political activism and personal change has been the frequent victim of stereotyping and caricature. But Meyers gets it right. I liked this book so much I wrote about it; you can read the full review here.
 
North Woods by Daniel Mason
This novel offers us 400 years of a house and a place. It is a banquet of characters, human and otherwise, of stories and ghosts and the kind of quirky connections that delight me as a reader. Mason gives us a masterpiece here in an odd narrative structure that weaves in and out of history and ecology. This is a pleasure of a book, (especially the best scene of beetles mating in literature.)
 
The Waters by Bonnie Jo Campbell
Few authors can write place like Bonnie Jo Campbell. In this novel, she takes us to an island in the Great Massasauga swamp, land of the massasauga rattlesnake, of farmers and barely employed laborers largely written off by society. I'm in awe of her characters, especially herbalist Hermine "Herself" Zook and her granddaughter Donkey. This book is both grim and spirited. I loved it.
 
The Cemetery of Untold Stories by Julie Alvarez
What does a novelist do with the stories she can't write, doesn't have time to write, but is obsessed with? In this novel, Alvarez' main character asks that question as she turns a plot of land in her native Dominican Republic into a cemetery for her unfinished manuscripts and the stillborn characters within them. If you believe, as I do, that our stories define us and may be the best of us, take a look at this book.
 
Change the Wallpaper by Nilanjana Dasgupta
This book, scheduled for publication in January, is my nonfiction choice for this year. If you've ever wondered why Equity, Diversity and Inclusion programs are often ineffective, take a look at this approach to how individuals can make a difference in structural inequality. Dasgupta synthesizes the social science research that offers insight with the stories that make us care. Pre-order at bookshop.org or your favorite indie.
 
Last Days in Plaka by Henriette Lazaridis
This novel opens with: "This is not her story. She stole it from the young woman who did not realize until the end that it was hers." It's the perfect introduction to the complex and often perplexing relationship between a young woman trying to discover herself and an old woman, living largely in the losses and regrets of the past. Told by an omniscient narrator who knows both women well and is often judgmental towards them, this novel shimmers in the heat of Athens and the quiet intensity of the story.
 
 

Conference Update: New Keynote & Award Winner
 
WriteAngles conference has a new keynote speaker! We are delighted to welcome Shanta Lee to the conference, where she will accept the Abel Meeropol Social Justice Writing Award and give the keynote address.
 
Shanta Lee is an award-winning writer across genres and visual artist. She was the 2020 recipient of the Arthur Williams Award for Meritorious Service to the Arts and a gubernatorial appointee to the Vermont Humanities Council Board of Directors. Her 2023 poetry collection, illustrated by Alan Blackwell, Black Metamorphoses explores the Black psyche, body, soul, through inversion and brazen confrontation of work that has shaped Western civilization in what she calls a conversation, interpretation, and interrogation of Ovid. It was a finalist for the Hudson Prize, shortlisted for the Cowles Poetry Book Prize and longlisted for the Idaho Poetry Prize. Her 2021 collection, GHETTOCLAUSTROPHOBIA: Dreamin of Mama While Trying to Speak Woman in Woke Tongues won the 2020 Diode Press full-length book prize and the 2021 Vermont Book Award. Her website is Shantalee.com.
 
Honorée Fanonne Jeffers, who was originally scheduled to give the keynote, is no longer able to participate in the Conference.
 
As I write this, there are only 10 seats still available for the conference, so if you've been putting off registering, don't wait too long! We're looking forward to seeing you at WriteAngles.
 
 
 
 

I wasn't planning to write a favorite books blog this year. Too busy with other projects. But when my friend Sarah asked about it, wanting suggestions for winter reading, I decided to look back at the books I loved this past year. I'd love to hear what your favorites were.

The Heaven and Earth Grocery Store, James McBride
McBride's latest novel is big and messy. Set in the 1920s and 1930s in Pottstown, Pa, his characters are mostly immigrants—eastern European Jews and southern Blacks—who live at the margins of the town. The narrative wanders a bit in the early chapters, but it offers up the kind of details that both illuminate character and establish the world of the novel. I'm in awe of McBride's ability to weave issues of racism, anti-Semitism, disability rights, and human connection into a plot with high stakes and an epic feel. This is a keeper.
 
Linney Steppe, Diane Gilliam
Sometimes a novel pulls you in immediately by the strength of the voice, immerses you in a place and time you didn't know, and compels you to live that life with the characters. That's what Linney Steppe did for me in this story set in early 20th century eastern Kentucky. Gilliam's prose is both lyrical and down-to-earth. I loved Linney's strength and determination and I loved the book.
 
Tom Lake, Ann Patchett
I have been disappointed in the last few Patchett novels, after loving her earlier fiction (Bel Canto, The Patron Saint of Liars, Taft). But this book totally captivated me. I loved hanging out with this family on their cherry orchard. I loved how the pandemic opened their communication about the past. This book was comfort food, I gobbled it up and I loved it.
 
Let Us Descend, Jesmyn Ward
This is a complicated novel. Ward uses the scaffolding of Dante's inferno and the technique of magical realism to enrich her story of Annis, a young woman, the daughter of a white slaveowners and a black slave, on a journey to a Louisiana sugar plantation. Annis is accompanied by the spirit of her African grandmother; the young woman both rejects and is nurtured by the spirit. Ward's prose is lush and sensory; the story is brutal and important.

Red Hands, Colin W. Sargent
Fueled by extensive interviews and rich imagination, Colin Sargent inhabits Romania's Iordana Ceausescu to give us a window into both a brutal regime and a remarkable woman. This novel is so many things—page-turner, history lesson, love story, thriller, and intimate view of family ties, power, and greed.
 
From the Longing Orchard, Jessica Jopp
This novel about the struggles of a girl to become her own complicated and creative self is lyrical and tender and heartbreaking and hopeful. Whether she's writing about Sonya's phobia or yearnings, about fears or nature, Jopp's prose is poetic and mesmerizing. She drew me wholeheartedly into these characters and their stories.
 
The Covenant of Water, Abraham Verghese
I have not fallen so deeply in love with a novel in a very long time. I guess it shouldn't surprise me; I've admired and loved all of Verghese's previous books. At over 700 pages, across eight decades and three generations, The Covenant of Water weaves history and medicine into an enormously powerful story of human connection and frailty, of secrets and triumphs. Set in Kerala in South India, Big Ammachi and her extended family suffer from a peculiar malady involving an aversion to water, a medical mystery that ties together much of the narrative. Verghese adds to the mix an exploration of love, caste, and poverty, of farming and art, of faith and activism. This is a novel to read and reread, to think about and ponder, to keep close.
 
The Stark Beauty of Last Things, Céline Keating
With lush and sensory prose, this incandescent novel offers a glimpse into a wild place in turmoil. Residents of Keating's Montauk, both locals and outsiders, face seemingly impossible choices between financial survival and environmental stability of their fragile community. The natural world—its palate, its odors, the rhythms of sunset and daybreak, of storm destruction and delicate growth—is the scaffolding and the heart of this unforgettable story. (Yes, I know I included this last year, since I read an advance copy, but this book is totally worth another shout out.)
 
Highwire Act & Other Tales of Survival, JoeAnn Hart
These stories are thoughtful, sometimes grim, occasionally hopeful, and always compelling. Brava, JoeAnn Hart for a collection that puts human faces on the climate catastrophe facing us all—right now and in the near future.
 
The Showgirl and the Writer: A Friendship Forged in the Aftermath of the Japanese American Incarceration, Marnie Mueller
I was fascinated by this seamless combination of memoir, biography, and examination of the effects of racial and ethnic prejudice on two women. The author looks at her own experiences as a white woman born at the Tule Lake No-No Japanese internment camp in the context of her friendship with a Japanese American "showgirl" who was sent to a camp. The interrogation of the similarities and differences of their experiences of anti-Asian racism and anti-Semitism are thought-provoking, both on a personal level and a political one. I mostly read fiction, but I found this book compelling; the ideas are still swirling around in my head.

Every year, I review the books I've read, those I can remember, and enjoy them again in the memory. Here are my favorite reads from 2022.
 
Sea of Tranquility, by Emily St John Mandel
Not quite as brilliant as Station Eleven, but pretty fantastic. This story unrolls in three different time periods, continuing Mandel's exploration of the big themes of time, pandemic, and living through catastrophe. I'm in awe of this author's world-building imagination.
 
The Candy House, by Jennifer Egan
Reading Egan's sort-of sequel to A Visit from the Goon Squad feels like eavesdropping on the social media posts of people you might have met once or twice but don't really know. But you want to keep watching/reading because their lives are fascinating and the innovative storytelling is (mostly) successful. Egan's skill with weaving drama from some of the more disturbing elements of contemporary culture and worship of technology, and her deep exploration of memory, make this a challenging book to read and think about.
 
A Woman of Endurance, by Dahlma Llanos-Figueroa
In this dark and lyrical novel, a young woman is taken from her African home and sold into slavery as a breeder on an 1850's Puerto Rico plantation. Richly researched and beautifully written, this is a story that has stayed with me, both the darkness and the hope.
 
The Midwife's in Town, by Kate Jessica Raphael
Set in the near future when Roe v Wade is overturned and a group of activists bring the feminist reproductive rights movement full circle. This story benefits from Raphael's talent for tight plotting, taut prose, and fast pacing, and from an admirable mix of humor, big-picture political savvy, and clear respect for the personal risks taken by the women in the collective and the women seeking care. I wish this book weren't necessary, but it is. It's also lively, smart, and a totally satisfying read.
 
Livid, by Cai Emmons
What could go wrong when a 50-something woman, Sybil, finds herself on a jury from her ex-husband, a jury hearing the case of a woman accused of killing her husband? When Sybil becomes obsessed with the defendant and reconnected to her ex. What emerges is feminist rage, and it's glorious reading!
 
Honor, by Thrity Umrigar
Set in contemporary India, Honor is about the consequences of defying cultural mores, about dishonor and shaming. India-born Smita is a U.S.-based journalist who returns to Mumbai to help a friend and becomes enmeshed reporting on a village crime, bringing her own difficult past into sharp focus. This book tackles caste and poverty, misogyny and violence. I've enjoyed all of Umrigar's previous novels; this one is my favorite for its unrelenting probing and the glimmer of hope.
 
The Women of Brewster Place, by Gloria Naylor
I read this classic novel-in-stories when it was published in 1980 and I thought about it as I wrote my recent novel The Lost Women of Azalea Court. While there are certainly differences between the two settings, two enclaves carved from ugly histories, but both are deeply valued by their residents. I waited until I finished my manuscript before rereading Naylor's; a book well worth revisiting.
 
Perla, by Carolina De Robertis
I've read other books about Argentina's disappeared children, adopted into wealthy families, but none that explore the subject with such nuance, such language, and more than a bit of magic thrown in. I've been reading everything I can find by this amazing author. How did it take me so long to discover her work?
 
Damnation Spring, Ash Davidson
This is the real thing, a novel that takes you away to a time and place removed from the here and now in order to explore the emotions and issues that are so much with us. If you're interested in fiction that engages with the ongoing tug of war between the "little guy" and powerful corporations, between health and making a living, between loyalty to family/community and being open to seeing clearly what's happening - this is for you.
 
Small Things Like These, by Claire Keegan
Short. Powerful. Language like poetry. Moving. Wow.
 
The Covenant of Water, by Abraham Verghese
I have not fallen so deeply in love with a novel in a very long time. I guess it shouldn't surprise me; I've admired and loved all of Verghese's previous books. At over 700 pages, across eight decades and three generations, The Covenant of Water weaves history and medicine into an enormously powerful story of human connection and frailty, of secrets and triumphs. Set in Kerala in South India, Big Ammachi and her extended family suffer from a peculiar malady involving an aversion to water, a medical mystery that ties together much of the narrative. Verghese adds to the mix an exploration of love, caste, and poverty, of farming and art, of faith and activism. This is a novel to read and reread, to think about and ponder, to keep close. Unfortunately, it won't be published until May 2023, but it's well worth the wait.
 

Late every fall I try to think back over the books I've read that year and share the ones I've loved most, the ones that have stayed with me, changed me. This year was particularly difficult, with such an amazing group of titles published. Books that dig deep into the world and offer something new, something inspiring. Here are the ones that have stayed with me the most.
 
Horodno Burning by Michael Freed-Thall
Early in this novel, we meet a girl who loves to read and a boy who loves stories but cannot read. Their life together, in the 19th century Pale of Settlement where Jews were confined, form the center of this thoughtful and moving historical novel. The characters' persistence in trying to live good lives as anti-Semitism intensifies, political activism grows, and disaster seems inevitable offers insight into an immigrant history, our current world, and the power of books and reading to make a difference. A timely and timeless story.
 
Blue Desert by Celia Jeffries
This debut novel is unflinchingly adventurous, unashamedly feminist, and deeply human. The story seamlessly weaves between two narratives: 18-year-old Alice living with the Tuareg tribe in wartime Sahara and 78-year-old Alice in London. Jeffries brings the story to a compelling and satisfying conclusion without sacrificing the lyricism of the prose, the lush grounding in the natural world, or the heartbreaking complexity of her characters.
 
Girl, Woman, Other by Bernardine Evaristo
I wasn't so sure about this book as I began reading. Was it a novel, I wondered, these very loosely linked vignettes about Black British women? But as the voices grew and the women connected, I was drawn totally into their world and their lives. This is an amazing and fierce piece of writing, and an important story for us all to read.
 
North by Brad Kessler
A monk, a Somali refugee, and a disabled veteran walk into a bar. No, they don't. They meet in a Vermont monastery, and the resulting novel is both profoundly moving and deeply story about community, activism, and perseverance. I loved this book as much as the author's earlier novel, Birds in Fall.
 
The President and the Frog by Carolina De Robertis
This is one of those books that defy description. It's about a former president of a Latin American country, a revolutionary who spent many years in prison, and his interview by a Swedish journalist. It's also about his memories of conversations with a frog during his brutual captivity. Sounds odd, right? But I found it profoundly fascinating and moving and provocative.
 
Bewilderment by Richard Powers
So much has been written about this novel, pro and con, but I totally loved it. It takes Powers' large understanding of how human beings are destroying the planet and condenses that big story into the difficult and tender relationship between a father and son. Read it and tell me what you think?
 
Imperfect Alchemist by Naomi Miller
I love it when a novel takes me far away in time and culture to a place I haven't visited before. That's what happens here, with Mary and Rose and their herbs and drawings and plays. What a rich world; what a delightful story to live inside. This is historical fiction at its best, exploring patriarchy and the lives of women through a sixteenth century lens.
 
Sinking Islands by Cai Emmons
This is a wonderful read, lyrical and so important. I think I liked this novel even more than Weather Woman, which has many of the same characters, but it isn't necessary to read first. Emmons offers us a global ensemble cast of characters who discover not only their power but also their connection to the earth and each other. We need this book. And if you'd like to know some backstory about the author and the book launch, check this out.
 
Daughters of Smoke and Fire by Ava Homa
This debut novel is a gem. It's part Kurdish history, part love story, part cautionary tale about family and culture in the face of genocide and resistance. Leila is a complex main character, with the contradictions we all carry within - wanting both safety and adventure, security and justice, family and the wider world. The story has brutality and tenderness, pain and resistance, fury and hope. Highly recommended!
 
Ethel Rosenberg: An American Tragedy by Anne Sebba
Ethel Rosenberg was my mother-in-law, although I never met her. I married her son Robby 17 years after the execution. (So, I know this story well and I am not unbiased.) In this biography, Sebba examines Ethel through the lens of history and feminism, looking beyond the usual myths. Ethel is portrayed as a neither victim nor dupe, but rather as a deeply political woman and devoted mother who was betrayed by family and country. If you'd like to read more about my thoughts on this book, check out this essay in Lilith Magazine.
 
Admit This to No One by Leslie Pietrzyk
This collection of short stories set in Washington, D.C. could be taken from the newspapers, if newspapers dug underneath the news for the juicy kernels of truth about our political center and the people who live and work there. The reviews call the stories "biting" and "cuts like a razor," and that's true, but there is also humor and empathy. I'm trying to learn to write better short fiction, and this collection is a wonderful teacher.
 
 
 
 

I'm easily bored.
 
That might be why, over the course of almost 60 years of adult working life, I have held positions ranging from switchboard operator to art teacher, from early childhood educator to abortion counselor, from nurse practitioner to novelist. I like learning new skills, taking on challenges, pivoting from one career to another as part of embracing the seasons of life.
 
When I started seriously writing fiction 21 years ago, and especially when my first novel was published ten years ago, I thought that I had found my forever-work. I love the process of creating a new world on the page, inviting readers to join me in exploring and understanding these made-up lives in a fantasy universe. My fifth novel, The Lost Women of Azalea Court, set on the grounds of the Northampton State Hospital, will be published in late 2022. I love books and reading; how could there be anything else?
 
So I was surprised when this year, during the isolation and sadness of the pandemic, I discovered playwriting. It was serendipitous, as these things often are. My first play, GRIDLOCK, is 'in development' with Silverthorne Theater Company and the LAVA Center and I'm having so much fun learning another set of writing skills and experiencing the deeply collaborative process of writing for the theater. I was also reminded of how much I enjoy being a "newbie." There is a freedom in not having to know the answers. In trying new things with little fear of failing.
 
GRIDLOCK is another look at some of the themes explored in my 2020 novel, Her Sister's Tattoo—family secrets and political activism—in the context of a massive regional grid failure and environmental activism. There will be a free public reading on June 11, both in person at the LAVA Center in Greenfield, MA, and live-streamed on Silverthorne Theater's YouTube channel. Please check it out at https://silverthornetheater.org/event/gridlock/. Maybe you'll even join me in this new adventure.
 
 
 

What a year 2020 has been! The silver lining (of the horrors of COVID and the ugly polarization of national politics and the sadness of isolation from family and community) has been reading. What a lot of good books have been published into these challenging times. These are my favorite reads (although it's certainly possible I've forgotten and left off a few stellar ones) to share for your reading pleasure.
 
Leave the World Behind, by Rumaan Alam
The Gringa, by Andrew Altschul
The Sun Collective, by Charles Baxter
The Paris Affair, by Susanne Dunlap
Burn Down This World, by Tina Egnoski
What You Have Heard is True, by Carolyn Forche
Accidentals, by Susan M Gaines
Into the Forest, by Jean Hegland
Tea by the Sea, by Donna Hemans
Daughters of the Stone, by Dahlma Llanos-Figueroa
Glorious Boy, by Aimee Liu
Migrations, by Charlotte McConaghy
The Yellow Bird Sings, by Jennifer Rosner
Unseen City, by Amy Shearn
Subduction, by Kristen Milares Young

Her Sister's Tattoo is three months old today. What a roller-coaster trip it has been, launching a novel into a pandemic followed by massive protests and an impressive rebirth of resistance to racism and economic injustice.
 
I have felt such a stew of emotions in these three long/short months: fear about COVID, fury at the mismanagement of our country's response, disappointment at not being able to tour with my book, anger at the increasing militarization of police response to demonstrators, sorrow at the loss of friends to the virus, and deep sadness at not being able, as part of a high risk household, to join others in the streets in support of Black Lives Matter.
 
Three months on, I've figured out some about how to reconfigure my life to online connections and how to redirect my political work. Having a politically-engaged novel launch at this moment in history has brought unexpected opportunities to talk with readers about the parallels between the uprisings of the late 1960's and now. To consider together the same questions activists face 50-odd years later. Questions about the political choices we make, the risks, and the consequences to ourselves and to the people we love.
 
I've come to understand other benefits in my life of the current situation. I've learned how to promote my novel using virtual events and social media. I appreciate that my carbon footprint is much lower, with no travel and few purchases other than food, books, and game apps so I can play with my grandchildren. I love being able to prepare for book events only from the waist up - a nice shirt, some earrings, and I'm ready. I love not worrying about eating garlic before a reading or book party.
 
Given the challenging times, I'm grateful to the folks who are generously promoting pandemic-launched books. I'm grateful to those of you who have read Her Sister's Tattoo and sent me emails about your response. Some of you have asked how you can help get the word out about this book and other pandemic-launched titles you've read and enjoyed. I just happen to have a few ideas about how we all can help writers and honor this moment in history:
 
1.     Take a few minutes to put a review and/or rating on Goodreads and Amazon. Seems silly, but they're important to help books find their readers.
2.     If you're in a book group, consider selecting titles impacted by the pandemic, as well as books written by writers of color.
3.     Word of mouth is so important. Talk with your reading friends and family members about the books that matter to you. And remind them that if they buy books, they should try to purchase from independent and/or BIPOC-owned bookstores.
 
This virus will probably be with us for much longer than we expect. So wear a mask, take care of yourself, read widely and deeply, and keep in touch.

We're all terrified about what Covid-19 means for our communities, our loved ones. If we're not frightened, we should be. Many of us are self-isolating, working remotely, not visiting friends and family except virtually. We're washing our hands often, trying not to touch our faces, attempting to balance our reading about the virus to learn what we need to know with ignoring it, so we don't descend into despair or panic.
 
In the midst of all of this, my new novel, Her Sister's Tattoo is being published. This novel had a 20-year gestation. I wrote the first chapters in early 2000 and have been revising it ever since. Its due date is April 7. My March and April events, including the book launch and party, have been cancelled; the May and June events are most likely next. I feel a bit embarrassed being so miserable about a book when people are dying, but it's my baby.
 
I'm not alone with this; there's a huge spring list of titles which won't get the usual event exposure at bookstores, libraries, conferences and literary festivals. This also means that our beloved indie bookstores are hurting as well, without in-person event sales and foot traffic.
 
We do have two things going for us. First of all, most writers are used to spending hours alone to do our work. (Some may even be a tiny bit relieved at not being able to travel and perform.) Secondly, many of us have worked hard to build robust literary communities to nurture and sustain our work.
 
So, in between bouts of sadness, I'm trying to focus on the new possibilities offered by this situation. Many of these opportunities are online; they offer spring-launching authors ways to reach new readers, many of whom are hunkering down at home with extra reading time.
 
·      Robin Kall of the Reading with Robin podcast has organized festival of author interviews and giveaways called Authorpalooza; the videos are available here. A similar series of FaceBook interviews are online at The Write Review.
·      Bestselling novelists Jenna Blum and Caroline Leavitt have launched A Mighty Blaze, a "social media initiative for writers whose in-person tours and events have been canceled, so they can till reach their readers – and so readers will have a place to go every week to find and buy new books."
·      National literary organizations are hosting virtual events, including Lit Hub, Litquake, and others.
·      Locally, many writing workshops, community writing get-togethers, classes and programs are being offered online. Check websites for Writers in Progress, Pioneer Valley Writers' Workshop, Forbes Library writers' room, and, of course, our own Straw Dog programs.
 
This is an opportunity for us all to be extra generous with each other. In addition to checking in on friends and neighbors who live alone or are at higher risk of Covid-19 infection and death, and offering to pick up groceries or medications, in addition to virtual visits and meetings, please consider kindness to newly published and vulnerable books.
 
These "good literary citizen" opportunities could include:
·      shouting out a book you're excited about on social media, even more than you might ordinarily do
·      pay special attention to new or forthcoming titles that have been impacted by Corona-19 for book club selections
·      writing reviews on Goodreads and Amazon, even if you'd rather not
·      buying more books than usual, especially since the libraries are closed (although some remote services are available)
·      supporting our precious independent bookstores, which often have a very small margin of viability. Many offer online ordering and curbside pickup service. We are so fortunate to have wonderful indie bookstores in our area, including Broadside, Odyssey, Book Moon, Amherst Books, Raven, Montague Book Mill. If we want them to survive, we must support them.
 
And, in case you're looking for suggestions, pictured above are some of my favorite virus-impacted new books.