Marmalade Skies in Harpswell, Maine

I took this unfiltered DSLR photograph while dining outside Estes Lobster House at sunset.

I'm taking a two week blog vacation to spend time with my family. Next post Wednesday August 26th.

Happy summer!

At Bailey Island with my College Roommate

Freshman year, Harvard paired me with Bonnie and two other roommates. Before we met in person, Bonnie called me on the phone, and we discovered that we had lots in common, including adjacent geography. I was from New York City and she was from New Jersey. When I arrived on campus, I had an instant friend.

When I invited Bonnie to visit me anytime, I hadn't expected her to come in November. That's my least favorite month in Maine. The trees were bare; the skies were grey; the landscape was brown and the days were growing shorter. Bonnie doesn't like cold weather, but her son was competing in a regional cross-country meet (he finished second!) They came well prepared with warm layers and a game attitude.

I took Bonnie to Giant Stairway on Bailey Island for a frigid seaside walk.

There's a public path that skirts the cliffs.

It's a good lookout point for breaking waves, bobbing lobster pots and eider ducks.

On warmer days, I've often spent hours painting watercolors right there. 

We stopped at Mackerel Cove to watch the sunset.

It was chilly, but catching up with an old friend kept me warm.

I'm thankful for the long-lasting friendships in my life, including you bloggers.

Happy Thanksgiving!

October Favorites in Maine

Reading in my hammock, under a canopy of gold,

Wearing flannel shirts without jackets,

Picking apples with my daughter,

Biking on country roads,

Shopping at the farmers' market,

Brilliant maples at Bowdoin College 
(my husband's lecture hall)

Painting en plein air at Lookout Point,

Bird watching on Seawall Beach

Hiking safely at Morse Mountain (before deer hunting season)

Happy Halloween!

Factual Accuracy in Fiction: does it matter?

Monhegan Island, Maine at night from a fact gathering trip for my work-in-progress

An author needs to create a world that is believable. When I spot factual errors in a book, even if it's fiction, the reality is broken for me. I don't expect perfection, but authors writing outside their personal experiences need to be more careful with the facts. Part of the reason I rarely review Maine novels if they aren't written by locals is that most people from away lack a basic understanding of my home state. If you use summer as a verb, I'm not the right reviewer for your book.

A day out lobstering in Harpswell to research my novel

I once read a "Maine" novel in which the lobstermen were loading their traps onto pickup trucks at the end of a summer day. In the real world, lobster traps are hauled up, the catch removed and then rebaited, but the traps usually remain in the ocean until the end of the season. The same book described a family as being so poor that they couldn't afford to repair their air conditioner. Most Maine residents live without air conditioning. It rarely gets too hot, and we have other priorities like heating our homes through the long winter. Yet another error: using a cell phone to navigate a boat. Once you're offshore, there isn't much reception. More importantly, you need a depth and tide chart to avoid the rocky shoals. Using a phone to navigate the coastal seas is not just inaccurate, it's dangerous misinformation. I didn't review that otherwise well-written book.

Rocky shoals off Monhegan Island

A related problem is not fact-checking. An author may do extensive research but can still get a few facts reversed or jumbled. Here's an example: a protagonist adjusts "aperture speed." In photography you can either change the shutter speed (how long the lens is open) or adjust the aperture (the size of the lens opening). There were other errors in a darkroom scene (eg film being processed in a red lit darkroom instead of in absolute darkness). Most readers wouldn't notice the slip, but I'm a photographer who cut her teeth in a darkroom before switching to digital. It was otherwise a really good book which captured the creativity of the arts. I may review it later.

The flipside of the factual coin is info dumping. Some books, especially historical fiction, are factually accurate to the point where the novel reads like a sixth grade Social Studies textbook. For example: I use my bone-handled knife to skin the seal in the manner that my grandmother once taught me. Nope. The native narrator wouldn't be consciously thinking about something she does everyday. If explanation is necessary for context, have an outsider ask questions. An author needs to be well informed to write believably, but that doesn't mean that the reader needs to be taught everything the author knows. Info dumping breaks the flow of a story and makes me quit reading. Keep your research file separate or consider switching to nonfiction.

Monhegan Harbor in fog

Finding factual errors in published books motivated me to be more careful with my own work-in-progress. Last month I interviewed a police officer for a drunk-driving arrest scene. After I wrote the scene, the officer fact-checked the pages and flagged a handful of errors, which I will correct. For drama, I might allow some flexibility with normal police procedure, but this will be a conscious choice, not a careless accident. My goal is to minimize factual errors to foster reality. (Thank you, Officer Dan Sylvain!)

Monhegan Harbor later the same day

The bottom line: write what you know or ask someone who knows to fact-check.

10X10 Art Show in Brunswick, Maine

Friday night, September 27th is the 10X10 Art Exhibit and Sale. My two watercolors are among the 300 works by 150 local artists. This annual benefit will fund an artist-in-residence program in Brunswick elementary schools. Local restaurants have donated hors d'oeuvres. Come join us!

One of Five Islands

This island is one of five off Georgetown in Maine. The outdoor picnic tables at Five Islands Lobster double as studio space and dining room. In October the light is crystal clear and the crowds are thinner. The lobster is tasty. I return every year.

I usually complete my paintings in one afternoon, racing the tide and waiting for the sun to reveal the shadows. Watercolor captures the flow of the ocean. It is also easier than oil paint to take on location.

This year art time double counts as novel research time. One of my new characters is a homeschooled lobsterman, who looks beyond the horizon. Do you recognize this photo from a few weeks ago?

Lobster Boat at Lookout Point 

Lookout Point in Harpswell is my favorite place to paint, only a 15-minute drive from my house in town. As I work, lobster boats motor in, unloading the day’s fresh catch at the dock. Sometimes I bring home dinner along with my painting.

10X10 Art Show 

At Curtis Memorial Library and St. Paul's Episcopal Church 

Next door venues on Pleasant Street, Brunswick, Maine 04011 

Friday September 27, 2013 from 5-8 pm 

(art is $200, including 10-inch-square frame) 

Public Preview: 

Thursday 9/26 5-8pm and Friday 9/28 12-3pm 

 Click here for Online Preview

A new chapter: Middlebury College

Two views of my son's dorm at Middlebury College.

As my son joined the queue of freshman, my advice was:
"Don't run over the photographer."

My son turned to me and grinned. "Don't be so sentimental."

I laughed with him, fighting back tears. It was a long journey, and I don't mean the five hour drive from Maine to Vermont.

Middlebury Town in Vermont

My son worked so hard to get to Middlebury College, and he got lucky too. Middlebury was the first college we visited together junior year. He fell in love with a hilly campus encircled by mountains, the absurd amounts of snow and a cafeteria open all day long: paradise!

President Liebowitz had advice for us parents: "Your job is done. They're adults. Don't worry; we'll look after them." He celebrated Middlebury's achievements and shared a story about a sobbing parent. He told us "to suck it up." We laughed because it beat crying. It was time to let go.

I said goodbye to my son by cell phone. He was rushing off to take a placement exam. I had never felt so alone, not since my mid 20s. My husband was in Maine, meeting with his freshman advisees at Bowdoin College. Our 16-year-old daughter had already left for a semester school on a coastal farm. For one semester, we will be empty nesters. It's not all bad; I can write and paint without interruption. For years I've been looking forward to this gift of free time. But still.

Look, Beth, Small Damages.

In my new found solitude, I headed off campus, crossing the bridge to the charming town. I took refuge in The Vermont Book Shop, overlooking the river. Driving home, I listened to Beautiful Ruins on CD.

Now I'm back at work, writing a new young adult novel and painting a couple of commissions. Classes have started at Bowdoin too. For the first time, my husband's students are the same age as our child. The dog roams the house, sniffing around suspiciously tidy rooms. Our son calls weekly and our daughter emails. They sound happy. We're all adjusting to this new pace of life.

Blog Watch: Happy 5th Blog Anniversary to Cynthia Newbury Martin! Welcome back Donna and A Cuban in London from summer break! Elizabeth Wix has shut down About New York but is still posting at The World Examining Works. 

Painting on Location

This is my art studio.

September is my favorite time of year to paint. My kids are back at school so the afternoons are mine. The air is both cooler and clearer, making colors more intense, shadows longer. Potts Point in Harpswell is empty other than lobstermen. There are fewer biting insects too. 

After checking the weather radar and the tide chart, I drive a few miles to the coast. It's quite precarious balancing a camp chair on slippery rocks. I fear I've lost a brush or two to the tide. 

Watercolor, however, does a better job than photography at capturing the sea and islands. A photograph flattens the landscape and bows the horizon. Colors on a bright day become washed out. The human eye knows how to compensate. What is captured on paper is not just a shutter stop instant, but an entire afternoon. It's a dynamic experience rather than a frozen moment. 

The problem is often too much movement. The wind blows. The tide rises. Watercolors like to flow too. I tape my paper to a board to keep it stable. First I pencil a loose sketch. Then I save the whites and the bright buoys with masking fluid. I wash in the sea and sponge the sky before working in the details with a drier brush and more intense pigment. 

The most challenging part of autumnal paintings is keeping the reds from blending into brown with the greens. Those seasonal hues will come last of all, along with the deepening shadows. The original underpainting is only a memory.

Sunset at Middle Bay, Maine

Happy Holidays! 

I'll be back to blogging in the New Year.

How to add blog pages with automatic forwarding or redirecting

 George J. Mitchell Field, formerly a US Navy Fuel Depot and now a public/dog park in Harpswell, Maine.

About once a year I give my blog a makeover.  My aim this time was to integrate my stand alone website (for my artwork and writing) with my blog.  I also wanted to reduce the clutter in my sidebar. On google blogger you can add up to 20 stand alone pages with tabs appearing under the banner (like mine) or in the sidebar. Thanks, Carol, for nudging me to add a homepage.

To add stand alone pages on Google Blogs:

Under the "Posting" tab click "Edit Pages"and then "New Pages." You create a new page like writing a blog post and then publish.

To create the automatic jump from the new page to my website, I added new code to my "Edit HTML" screen of the new page:

angelfire.com's instructions on adding automatic redirecting

This code would also work if you changed blog addresses and wanted to forward visitor to your new site. I changed the lag time from 1 to 5 seconds to accomodate search engines, but it jumps instantly due to the javascript. Don't worry, this is all much easier than it sounds.

More Posting Tips:

To improve your blog, read The Story Siren's Ten Things I Dislike About Your Blog. This is a must read post for all bloggers. The only point I disagreed with was word verification. I get bombarded with spam without it.

Here's my Advice for New Bloggers with your helpful comments.

Bookstore Watch: one of my favorite authors, Ann Patchett has opened a bookstore.

Shakespeare Watch: from the latest New Yorker, "Who Wrote Shakespeare," by Eric Idle. Hilarious!

Sunset at Lookout Point

The islands at Lookout Point remind me of floating bonsais.

Autumn’s crisp, cool air makes the colors more intense.

Painting dockside, I watch lobstermen unloading their catch.

Seabirds queue for sunset as I drive the nine miles home.

Stella's Last Walk

I write with shaky fingers as tears stream down my face. 

No dog lies at my cold feet. 

The only trace is a well-worn patch on my office floor. 

Stella was frequently mistaken for a puppy at age six. 

Her golden coat hid the tumors. 

She went from healthy to dying in a matter of weeks. 

There was nothing we could do other than make her last week perfect 

and her death painless at home.

Stella came into our lives when my husband was having health problems. 

That mischievous fluff-ball chased away tears and retrieved laughter. 

 Now that my husband is well, it seems unreal that this lively bundle of joy is gone.

As my daughter said, 

“I was supposed to say goodbye to her when I went away to college five years from now.” 

At an age when even good friends alternate from kind to cruel as hormones ebb, 

a loyal pet was a safe harbor.

Stella demanded walks in all weather, keeping us fit.
We took her on our sabbatical to England. 

She tongue mopped the kitchen floor and shredded garbage for easy recycling. 

 Dirty socks were matched with their owners. 

She had good taste in music, teaching my children to be more careful with their iPods.

Our house sounds quiet. 

 We notice her absence even more than her presence in our busy lives. 

 Once we were welcomed with genuflections of ecstasy. 

 The worst part now is coming home.

Nothing is left but these photos of our last walks at Popham Beach and Bailey Island. 

That final week was a gift, a time to take Stella to special places, 

knowing that when we returned that she’d still be inside us. 

My daughter labeled those final days“sehnsucht,” 

a longing for what we cannot experience, sort of the opposite of déjà vu. 

She discovered this uniquely German word and taught it to me.

The hardest act of love is letting go.

Stella by Starlight 7/16/04-9/24/10