Every American knows that horrible date. For me, sitting in Mrs. Purvis’s 2nd grade classroom in a building built in the 1880s, the news was baffling. I don’t recall many of the details of that afternoon, except for the stunned and saddened adults, those people who were counted on to understand everything, now didn’t seem understand at all.
My life consisted of learning cursive, wondering why girls couldn’t wear pants to school on cold days, riding my bicycle, dealing with my little sister, adoring my older brother and playing with my friends. I probably wouldn’t have been aware of the President as a person, rather than just the idea of the office, if he hadn’t had little kids. Their pictures were always on the news and in LIFE magazine. Those kids made him real. A dad. And suddenly he was dead.
I think we never truly empathize with others until something makes them understandable and relatable in our own personal world. A dad was dead. That I could comprehend. That I could imagine. What if my dad went to work one day and never came home? I think in some small way, that day, that dawning understanding of others’ loss contributed to my ability to create believable fictional characters. That was the first time I crawled under another person’s skin…Caroline Kennedy. A girl whose daddy won’t come home.
The television, normally off during the daytime hours in our house, stayed on. 
My mother made me sit and watch it all. The Sunday procession from the White House to the Capitol, Caroline and her mother kneeling beside that flag draped casket, Monday’s long slow procession from the Capitol to the cathedral and then again after the service to Arlington cemetery. Whenever I got restless, she reminded me, this was history being played out right in front of me. History she hoped would never be repeated. It was important I watch the entire thing.
The thing that struck me was the silence. How could a street filled with chest-to-back, shoulder-to-shoulder people be so quiet? Nothing but drum beats and horse hooves. The other thing, of course, was the image of two children whose lives would never be the same.
Today I awakened with one thing on my to do list: write. But then I remember I have a dentist appointment this morning. Which calls for real clothes and a comb through my hair, and at least enough make up not to frighten small children. Tick-tock.
The webpage of my wireless service is “unavailable.” I visit with Mom and Sister, then try again. No go. I decide to take the phone with me, activate it later, and return it to Mom after I have several brilliant pages turned out. Pack up phone and computer and head out the door. Still nearly half a day of writing time.
Get in the car and point it toward my home office. Well, Meijer is on my way home. Might as well get a few things for that empty pantry. Shouldn’t take but a few minutes, save me getting out tomorrow.
My turn! I scan and bag and pay. I even remember to stop by the freezer on my way out and pick up the ice I’d paid for — not always the case (mine, unfortunately, did not have a penguin on it). 3 o’clock, but plenty of time to crank out some quality work.
Well, I’m all for having everything at my fingertips, but there is no way I can work in this mess. Sort. Stack. Shred. Recycle. File.
You know what? Today would make a great blog, one that all procrastinators can identify with.
I’m still catching up from my summer Southern Book Tour and trip to the fabulous Decatur Book Festival over Labor Day weekend. On these two trips, I was lucky enough to several days in the Atlanta area—lucky because I could spend a lot of time with my Atlanta-based writer buddies Karen White and Wendy Wax (as well as some other-out-of-towners, Beatriz Williams, Karen Kendall and Eloisa James—who wouldn’t want to hang with this crowd?). At the Decatur Book Festival I enjoyed seeing my pal Jane Porter and finally got to meet some of my favorite authors for the first time, Susan Rebecca White, Karen Spears Zacharias, Lynn Cullen and Claire Cooke. Add those to all of the great readers and booksellers I met and you get one incredible summer!
Both Karen and Wendy supported my Atlanta book store signings, taking time away from their own work to prop up a tired road warrior and share food and libations. As you may recall from my 
I love joining book clubs when they’re reading and discussing my books, as I learn so much about women and their thoughts, opinions, and feelings through book club visits and call-ins. I’ve learned through the years that I don’t ever truly understand the novel I’ve written until I hear it discussed from the reader’s perspective, and it’s the reader’s opinion that does matter, because what I create has to resonate with readers, or they won’t enjoy what they’ve read, and certainly won’t come back for my next book.
I always find it interesting how characters are born. Some need a little work—prodding and poking and shaping—while others literally leap onto the page, full formed, with edges, quirks and fierce passions. My Brennan sisters were like that. The oldest, first born, Mary Margaret, the ultimate good girl, responsible for everything and everyone. My fraternal twin sisters, Brianna and Catherine, who are as different as can be but get along quite well, even though Meg and Brianna can’t even be in the same room together. Younger brother Tommy, who also becomes a fire fighter, but over in the East Bay due to hiring quotas, and then the baby sister, Sarah, who is the family beauty and an accomplished athlete.
Sarah is the sister who has it all – two beautiful kids and a gorgeous, sexy husband, Boone Walker, a professional baseball player. They have a comfy, well-off lifestyle thanks to Boone’s success but living apart for most of the year, due to Boone’s schedule puts a huge strain on their marriage. Sarah loves her husband fiercely but he made a mistake three years ago that she’s still finding it hard to forgive him for. Now Boone is facing yet another career change and it makes things even more tense for their marriage until Boone gives Sarah an ultimatum. Either get over the past to forgive and forget, or they go their separate ways. Sarah has to decide if her marriage is worth keeping or if it’s time to walk away.
