Monday, May 18, 2015

Groovy's a Best Seller

I'm happy to announce that A Groovy Kind of Love officially became an Amazon best-selling novel this weekend. It reached #61 on the Romance Literary Fiction list and #79 on the Literary Women's Fiction List.

So now, all three of the Bibliophiles novels, as well as the holiday short story, have hit the best-seller lists at one time or another.

Thank you so much, everyone!

Monday, May 11, 2015

Reflections, Mother's Day 2015

Spring has definitely sprung in Chicagoland. The crabapple tree outside my kitchen window has begun exchanging its gorgeous magenta flowers for green leafy branches.

That tree inspired me to include one just like it in A Groovy Kind of Love. It’s the tree under which Thaddeus and Spring get married. Its appearance is a little nod to my mother. We planted our own crabapple tree in her memory eighteen years ago after she died of amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS). Pink was her favorite color, so each year when magenta blooms festoon each branch, coincidentally around Mother’s Day, I can’t help but remember Mom.

I’ve been thinking of Mom a lot lately. Yesterday was Mother’s Day in the states. The weekend prior, my husband and I moved my 75-year-old father from the third floor to the garden apartment of the building in which I basically grew up. We moved there when I was ten. I have snatches of memories from younger days, of course, but most of my cognizant childhood and teen years were spent in that third-floor, walk-up apartment.

While we worked, flashes of my mother bombarded me, things even as seemingly insignificant as having root beer floats came back to me while I washed my father’s glasses and placed them into new cabinets.

I’m glad he moved, so I don’t have to relive the last time I saw Mom in that apartment, now bed-ridden and without use of her legs and arms from the hellish ALS, every time I walked past their bedroom. I don’t know how he lived there for so long after she died, but he and I are very different people.

Mom and me, circa 1986.

My mother was warm, kind, and extremely huggable. An only child, she dreamed of having her own brood, but unfortunately, only had me. Instead, she became “Mom” to my schoolmates throughout the years, from grade school through college, making cupcakes for class holidays and hosting Superbowl parties for college buddies in desperate need of home cooking.

I posted about her on my personal Facebook page this weekend and was touched by how many wonderful words my FB friends had for her, all of them mentioning how nice she was, how kind.

I learned a lot about being a mother from Barbara Wojcik.

Never underestimate the value of generosity of spirit. For that, my friends, is what truly counts.

Thanks, Mom. xx

Monday, May 4, 2015

Twenty Years of Awesome: BBC's 1995 Pride and Prejudice

Stopping for a second in between the seemingly unending tasks left to do in time for my 75-year-old father’s move, I plopped onto the love seat, careful not to drop the turkey and provolone sandwich on a pretzel bun I had just thrown together for a quick lunch. I turned on the television. Three familiar words shouted out from the on-screen guide.

Pride and Prejudice.

Yes, the BBC production starring Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle. Ovation was running a P&P marathon. This episode? Part Four: Elizabeth, along with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, visits Pemberley.

I couldn’t help myself. It didn’t matter that I had seen it too many times to count, that it is my absolute favorite novel adaptation, and that it was required viewing for my two sons as soon as they were old enough to understand it. “I am severely displeased” has become part of our family jargon.

P&P’s siren call proved too much for me.

I tuned in right as Elizabeth scales the Peaks.

Ahhhh, my happy place.

It’s been my happy place for so long, I forgot what year this version was filmed.


Twenty years ago.

I watched Elizabeth walk the gardens, then leave her aunt and uncle to survey the lake, knowing full well Darcy stood on the other side, warm and dusty from his long ride in from London. I always get so nervous for her, for her embarrassment of being caught on his property. Now, at least, we can creep on Facebook pages or Instagram accounts without fear of being discovered.

He removes his coat and plunges into the water.

You know what I forgot? They never show him emerging from the lake. Firth’s practically air-dried as he struts, white shirt blowing in the wind, when he encounters Elizabeth. His hair is a bit wet, I grant you, but apparently that scene was only imagined and played out in Lost in Austen.

Happily, I was also able to see “the look” before I needed to get back to work. You know,  when Darcy gazes adoringly at Elizabeth while she plays and sings after dinner the following evening. It’s a good thing my husband and I were already married when this came out, or I’d still be searching for the gentleman who would lovingly gaze at me across a room to this day. That look is the thing that endeared Colin Firth to me (and millions of other women around the world) for these twenty years. In fact, I actually have seen every one of his movies. Well played, Mr. Firth, well played.

The 1995 BBC P&P began the Jane Austen craze really, something that hasn’t waned, as evidenced by the amount of Austen fan fiction available on Amazon. And although my opinions of the various characters have changed with my…ahem…more mature viewing, nothing feels more like home than a good binge viewing of my favorite classic of all time.

How about you, dear readers? What is something you watch over and over again?