This book also won a RITA this summer. As I may have mentioned.
Eldora sashayed into my imagination one night when I was working in a boarding home for schizophrenics and other mentally ill patients. (One of the hardest and most interesting jobs I’ve ever had.). She came in, smoking and laughing, and I thought, "I can’t write a story with a 60-something woman in the starring role!" She winked and said, "I’m not in the starring role, sweetie. That would be my daughter, India."
Which is true. Kind of. Check it out.
It’s funny how the moments that change your life sneak up on you. The night I met Jack, saucer-sized feathers of snow were falling out of a heavy pink sky. I walked to the pub, not minding the kink the moisture would give my hair. There’s nothing quite like the soft air of a falling snow. Light from the pub, with a proper Irish name-O’Connell’s-spilled yellow onto the sidewalk through a mullioned window. I could hear the rush of voices inside, and there was an agreeable sense of happiness in my chest. New work. That was what I was thinking about READ MORE.