Neruda on the Park by Cleyvis Natera

After reviewing novels for 15 years and plotting my own, it's not often that a book surprises me, but Cleyvis Natera's Neruda on the Park is an astounding debut. The set-up reminded me of You've Got Mail: a naive young woman falls for the charming developer who threatens to destroy her world. However, as the beautiful cover art reveals, Neruda on the Park is more of a mother-daughter story than a romance, unless Nothar Park, their Dominican neighborhood in NYC, is the main love interest. What the story becomes is true to the multidimensional characters in our uncertain times but not what you'd expect from genre scaffolding.

Natera's novel has such a wonderful sense of place of both Manhattan (where I grew up) and the Dominican Republic (where I've visited). The generosity and rivalry of neighbors in a close knit community was well observed. I especially enjoyed the descriptions of food: "Pastel making started out as it always did - hours peeling skin, grinding the flesh of plátanos, yautias, and yuccas until the grainy yellow paste was smooth enough to be mistaken for cooked cornmeal." There's so much local flavor: from the decorative (not pandemic) masks celebrating Dominican Independence Day to the sidewalk barbecues with extra food to share, but crime, sexism, racism, and ICE lurk around the corner.

Cleyvis Natera photo by Beowulf Shehan

The book opens with commercial glitz: successful women wear designer suits with mortgageable shoes and dine in trendy restaurants. The power players, both black and white, live in private brownstones, where jewelry and books are displayed behind glass like trophies of social status. Double Ivy League educated herself, Luz Guerrero wants to grasp everything that is withheld from her. Her name in Spanish means light warrior, and she earns it, fighting for justice.

To please her doting parents and her mentor-boss, Luz works long hours as a corporate lawyer, pouring her savings into her parent's retirement home back in DR and buying designer clothes for herself on credit. After her career hits an unexpected setback, Luz meets a handsome billionaire in a hot yoga class (don't quit reading). Although white and privileged, Hudson apologizes for his mistakes, speaks better Spanish than hers, recites Pablo Neruda's poetry by heart, and welcomes Luz into his luxurious world without reservations. Hudson wants the best for her. So why does her mother hate him?

Halfway through the book, the seemingly predictable plot warps like a Dali clock, resetting our perception of reality. What I enjoyed the most was watching the characters develop and twist the storyline in unexpected directions, but I won't say any more to avoid spoilers. Except go pre-order this May 17th book from your local indie bookstore before it sells out. Publishing rights to Neruda on the Park sold at auction for all the right reasons. Will there be a movie?

My reviews of two more excellent novels by Dominican Americans:

Dominicana by Angie Cruz

In the Time of the Butterflies by Julia Alvarez

¡Felicidades por tu maravilloso debut, Cleyvis! Me encantó tu novela y espero que escribas más.

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Someday, Somewhere by Lindsay Champion

What looks like an insta-love romance becomes something else entirely as lies accumulate on both sides of Someday, Somewhere by Lindsay Champion. On a school trip to Manhattan, Dominique falls for Ben when his music conservatory performs at Carnegie Hall. To win his love, Dom pretends to be a wealthy NYU student instead of a high school junior from a gritty New Jersey suburb. Ben, a musical prodigy, has secrets of his own.

This YA novel gripped me from the opening scene to the perfect last line. Both of the teen protagonists have creative passions and natural talent, however Dom had to quit dance to help her mom keep her laundromat afloat. Ben has a supportive family and all the privileges money can buy, but he struggles under the pressure to live up to his potential in an ultra-competitive atmosphere. Both kids tell self-destructive lies to survive. Their stories are told in alternating point-of-view chapters, allowing the reader to piece the true narrative together. This engaging book is structured like a classical sonata with jazz riffs.

The main characters were well developed but only superficially diverse. Since Dom's Ecuadorian immigrant dad deserted her years ago, she can't speak Spanish or understand her cultural heritage. There is a throw away line about Passover towels (huh?) in Ben's apartment, but Jewish identity doesn't shape his character or the narrative. As a Jew with Hispanic relatives this lack of depth disappointed me. It's still better to have some diversity than none, and strong voices and realistic flaws fleshed out the characters.

I loved how this contemporary novel explored socio-economic differences, but some of the financial details were unrealistic. A low income student would get free lunch at public school and food stamps at home (only coupons were mentioned), and a credit card would be frozen if a cardholder started making unusually large purchases rapidly. However, these were minor details that didn't detract much from the story overall. If you enjoy unreliable narrators, mismatched romance, and music, check out this impressive debut.

It's been a late spring in Maine: freezing on Tuesday morning and then high 80s F yesterday! Only Scout misses the snow.

Reviewer's Disclosure: I'm friends with the editor of this novel, but glowing early reviews on Goodreads and in Entertainment Weekly made me decide to read it. When I was unable to find a copy at independent bookstores in Maine, I purchased the ebook for my Kindle. The hardcover was released last month.

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Best Contemporary YA Fiction of 2016

I usually post my best young adult fiction list in December, but this year I was moving between sabbaticals in Japan and in the UK with a brief stop at home in Maine for the holidays. I'm finally settled in Oxford with time to catch up on book reviews. Since I write contemporary YA fiction, that's primarily what I read. Although these books were all published in 2016, their themes are all the more relevant for 2017. Reading fiction is also a good escape from the dystopian real world of American politics right now.

The Sun is Also a Star by Nicola Yoon was my favorite young adult novel of 2016. This emotionally resonant story of immigration, assimilation, and deportation is sadly all the more realistic today. We need books that foster empathy and compassion. The immigrant author won a Printz Honor for this perfect book.

Yoon's page-turner story hooked me immediately: On the day Natasha and her Jamaican family are due to be deported, she meets Daniel, a Korean American on his way to a Yale College interview in New York City. Daniel believes in poetry and soulmates but scientific Natasha is skeptical. Her focus is on fighting to stay in the USA. Natasha has no time for love, but what if Daniel is right?

The Loose Ends List by Carrie Firestone was my favorite debut. The premise was original and poignant: a dying grandmother takes her family on a luxurious world cruise to say goodbye. Gallow humor, a comically dysfunctional family, and a sweet romance offset the sad realism of terminal cancer. Somehow this novel about dying with dignity was one of the most life-affirming books I've ever read.

The story now resonates with me personally as my mother-in-law fights cancer with the hope of traveling on the Trans-Siberian Railway with my son this summer. My teenage daughter is finding comfort in this book too. I'll post a more in depth analysis next week for Barrie Summy's Book Review Club.

Up to this Pointe by Jennifer Longo had the best setting: Antarctica. I loved how this novel focused on failure and resilience, a theme lacking in most YA literature. American culture unrealistically claims that anyone can succeed if she/he tries hard enough. In a clever juxtaposition, the world of professional ballet is shown to be as challenging and crazy as reaching the South Pole. After failing her ballet auditions, Harper Scott follows her ancestor's snow tracks to Antarctica. Her heroes haunt her long winter hallucinations as she struggles to find a new path in life. This book is eloquent on science, climate change, and ballet. The only weakness was the ease of romance, but that element provided some light in the darkness. Also there were penguins!

Wrecked by Maria Padian was my favorite issue-driven novel. This chillingly realistic story investigates an alleged date rape on a college campus from three perspectives: the roommate of the victim, the housemate of the accused, and an omniscient narration on the night of the attack. The reader must piece together the clues and draw his/her own conclusion about what really happened. The conflicting versions of the truth becomes the central theme of this engaging book. The setting is rural New England. I'd love to see more YA set at college and with feminist themes. Note the pussy hat pink cover!
Link to my full review of Wrecked.

Although the cover of The Season of You & Me by Robin Constantine looks like a traditional romance novel, what is missing from the photo is a wheelchair. A former surfer, Bryan now cruises his island home in an adapted car. Working at a summer day camp, Bryan befriends mainland Cassie, who is recovering from a painful breakup and adjusting to her dad's new family. Romance builds slowly on this small island off the Jersey shore. The story explores prejudice toward disability and the challenges of sex as a paraplegic, but the central plot is romance. A character does not need to overcome disability to be sexually attractive. It's wonderful to see more inclusive YA romance.
On my Good Summer Books List too.

This is a Story of You by Beth Kephart is a modern parable of the horrors of climate change. When a storm cuts off an island from the Jersey Shore, 17-year-old Mira must fight for survival with only a stray cat for company. Earlier that day, her single mom had driven her disabled brother to the mainland hospital for emergency treatment. As the storm rages and the sea floods their beachside cottage, Mira must decide what to save and how to stay alive. If that weren't scary enough, a mysterious intruder is lurking outside, and without power or cellular service, Mira can't call for help. I fear we'll see more real world examples of this fictional disaster all too soon if the US reverses climate change policy. Read the rest of my review here.

Given the spike in hate crimes in the USA, we need books that show diverse characters as normal teens, not as victims. You Know Me Well is set under the rainbow of San Francisco. Authors David Levithan and Nina LaCour narrate this heartwarming friendship story in alternating chapters: Mark is a hot jock with a secret crush on his closeted best friend, and Kate is a talented artist who is scared of finally meeting the girl of her dreams. The struggles they face are universal: academic expectations, parental pressure, and shifting relationships. Many teens will relate to the feeling of knowing what you want but lacking the self confidence to claim it. A buddy who supports and encourages you makes all the difference. Review continued here.

With Malice by Eileen Cook kept me up way past my bedtime. This Amanda Knox inspired suspense-thriller had intriguing suspects, multiple red herrings, and more twists than the village roads of Tuscany. The unreliable narrator's testimony leaves the reader tossing and turning in bed, ruminating over conflicting versions of the truth. This cynical satire lampoons journalists, social media, lawyers, detectives, and the scandal-hungry public. With Malice is a fitting read for the age of "alternative facts."
My full length review with photos of Italy.

Happy Reading!


Reviewer's Disclosure: Maria Padian is a friend and Beth Kephart is a blog buddy. On my request, publishers sent me ARCs of Wrecked, This Is The Story of You, and With Malice. I purchased all other books myself without compensation. Authors Carrie Firestone and Nina LaCour are represented by my agent.

Springtime and Passover in NYC

Carl Schurz Park, Yorkville, New York City, tulips above and walkway below.

Every year we gather in New York City for Passover. My parents host our Seder, and we all take turns reading from a haggadah that has more English than Hebrew. Our mixed-faith family is also multinational: American, British, Japanese, Italian Canadian and Mexican American. Only a few of us went to Hebrew School, but we all mumble along with enthusiasm, especially in the Dayenu chorus. The week-long holiday celebrates the Jews' escape from slavery in Egypt. In remembrance, we eat matzah, unleavened bread (English spelling of Hebrew varies). On the run in the desert, there was no time for the dough to rise. All the food is symbolic.

Passover is always in springtime, but the timing shifts due to the Hebrew lunar calendar. In my neighborhood park, the cherry trees were in peak bloom. My husband and our kids had to return for school, but I stayed a couple extra days to catch up with friends and art.

There's a wonderful Munch exhibit at the Neue Gallery, including his pastel Scream. Afterwards my parents treated me to a Viennese lunch at Cafe Sabarsky (above). The museum and cafe are inside a gorgeous 5th Avenue mansion overlooking Central Park.

Meanwhile back in Maine, my husband texted me this photo of our backyard. My flight back home Tuesday was cancelled due to the snowstorm! This was unusual for late April, even in Maine.

Given an extra day, I enjoyed a leisurely walk in Central Park.

For gym class in high school, I used to jog around the reservoir with my friend Cathy, who now runs Main Point Books in Pennsylvania. Another friend of ours is a librarian at a Harlem high school. We love talking books, and they use my recommendations to restock their shelves. My librarian friend was especially grateful for my Gay YA Romances post, since those are the books that go missing. Her students love romances and dystopia so I promised to keep an eye out for diverse YA in those genres.

For my last lunch, I had matzah ball soup at The Mansion, our local diner which has been there longer than my parents can remember. On the windows were both Passover and Easter decorations. I felt right at home.

Now back in Maine, I found my forsythia blooming over melting snow. Locals call spring snow "poor man's fertilizer." This transplanted New Yorker is feeling inspired.

Good Books on Grief: H is for Hawk & Kissing in America

Simpson's Point where I watch bald eagles, ospreys and great blue herons catch fish.

It may sound strange to pair a nature memoir with a young adult novel, but both of these books deal with the death of a beloved father. They describe mourning and depression but aren't depressing to read. Grief is acknowledged with emotional honesty and described with poetic beauty. These marvelous books celebrate life and resilience more than death.

H is for Hawk by Helen Macdonald is a memoir about taming and training a goshawk. The author notes the irony of trying to overcome grief with a creature who lives to kill. Unhinged by her father's death, Macdonald is drawn to raptors - more than to people - for comfort.

"The hawk was everything I wanted to be: solitary, self-possessed, free from grief, and numb to the hurts of human life."

H is for Hawk is an unusual blend of memoir, autobiography, literary analysis and natural history. Macdonald, a Cambridge University scholar from a middle class background, found parallels between her own experiences with those of the author T.H. White. His disastrous attempt to train a goshawk verged on sadomasochism. Sometimes her book got a bit bogged down on T.H. White, but the history of hawking was fascinating. The Cantabrigian countryside was more than a setting. Grief was described in luscious metaphors, using the natural world to portray a fragile state of mind:

"The archaeology of grief is not ordered. It is more like earth under a spade, turning up things you had forgotten. Surprising things come to light: not simply memories, but states of mind, emotions, older ways of seeing the world."

"It's turned cold; cold so the saucers of ice lie in the mud, blank and crazed as antique porcelain."

What makes H is for Hawk so special was the beautiful writing and the respect for hawks as wild creatures. Macdonald goes a bit feral herself, but her hawk Mable was never anthropomorphized. Mabel was a well developed character in her own right: blood-thirsty and vicious but also intelligent and playful. Through the sharp eyes of a hawk and her trainer, we gain a fresh view of the British countryside and of my home state of Maine (chapter 27). The reader can almost imagine what it feels like to fly. The writing itself made me swoon:

"I glance up. And then I saw my goshawks. There they were. A pair, soaring above the canopy in the rapidly warming air. There was a flat, hot hand of sun on the back of my neck, but I smelt ice in my nose, seeing those goshawks soaring. I smelt ice and bracken stems and pine resin. Goshawk cocktail. They were on the soar."

I'd strongly recommend H is to Hawk to nature lovers of all ages. I'm not usually a fan of memoirs, but I loved this one. With its gorgeous woodblock print cover, it makes a great gift (thanks Henry!)

Kissing in America by Margo Rabb isn't a memoir, but it reads like one. The author lost both of her parents as a new adult. The father in Rabb's novel died two years ago in a plane crash. Sick of everyone's morbid curiosity, 16-year-old Eva tells people her dad died of a heart attack. She struggles with depression, unable to let go of her father. To the horror of her feminist-scholar mom, Eva copes with her grief by reading romance novels (ha!)

"I loved romances because when you opened the first page, you knew the story would end well. Your heart wouldn't be broken. I love that security, that guaranteed love....In real life, you never knew the ending. I hated that."

Nonetheless, Eva searches for romance in real life. She drags her Korean American best friend on a cross country road trip from NYC to LA in pursuit of the boy who stole her heart. Will is swoon-worthy handsome, enigmatically biracial and he understands her grief. Unfortunately he's frustratingly elusive:

"He didn't find small things important: returning texts, charging his phone, being on time, punctuation."

Humor helped brighten a dark story:

"She wore green pants that sat high on her skinny waist, and a green blouse buttoned to the neck. Her hair frizzed out sideways. She looked like a stalk of broccoli. Broccoli with glasses."

Other times the writing was emotionally raw and painfully honest:

"You never stop missing them. It was a simple thing to say. But I'd never heard anyone say it before. Not the grief counselors. Not my mom. Everyone seemed to think the opposite: you moved on, you forgot, it was impolite to keep talking about it."

For a book called Kissing in America, there wasn't much kissing. The content was quite tame for young adult fiction. Even the road trip was chaperoned. Although I adore the Americana cover, I wish the book had a less misleading title. Love was explored in multiple dimensions: family and friendship as well as romance. Relationships were realistically messy and well developed. There were no easy fixes, but this book ended with hope. I'd strongly recommend Kissing In America to grieving teenaged girls or to anyone who has lost a loved one. The literary style would cross over well to adult readers.

Reviewer's Disclosure: H is for Hawk was a birthday gift from my husband, purchased at the Wallingford Bookshop in England. It's also available in the USA in hardcover. I bought Kissing in America at the Harvard Book Store in the other Cambridge, USA. I was not compensated for my reviews. All photos are from my part of Maine: a tidal estuary at Simpson's Point, an ice puddle at Morse Mountain, and in the woods near my home last week. I wish I had a photo of the red tailed hawk who occasionally visits our yard.

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Tonight the Streets Are Ours by Leila Sales

Tonight the Streets Are Ours by Leila Sales could be a Millennial epilogue to Ibsen's A Doll's House. As much as I empathized with Nora's domestic frustrations and her desire for personal fulfillment, I always wondered how her departure affected her children. In a nod to Ibsen's 1879 play, the protagonist daughter of Sales's young adult novel had a line of dolls created in her image. Arden fears that "the most exciting moment in her life was already past."

In Tonight the Streets Are Ours, a devoted stay-at-home mom has left her family without warning or explanation to move to New York City from the Maryland suburbs. Her workaholic husband retreats to his office and into fantasy football, leaving the housekeeping to their seventeen-year-old daughter. Arden mothers her little brother, supports her egocentric boyfriend and takes the blame when her best friend stashes weed in her locker. "Recklessly loyal" Arden could have starred in an Ibsen play herself, but she prefers stage crew and life out of the spotlight.

As an escape from her problems, Arden becomes obsessed with a blog, Tonight the Streets Are Ours. The arts school blogger lives big in New York City; Peter shares her frustrations with loved ones and a hope for an ideal romance. The proverbial gun is placed center stage and the reader waits for Arden to pull the trigger. However, what happens when Arden drives off to New York City defies expectations.

The cast features diverse characters with realistic flaws who make mistakes. My only criticism would be that the pace was a bit slow in the first half, but it accelerates on the road trip with reckless glee. This edgy book explores the meaning of love with both humor and philosophical depth. Risky behavior has life altering consequences. Tonight the Streets Are Ours is delightfully whimsical, emotionally poignant and true to Millennial teens.

The sassy narrative voice was spot on:

"They both watched as Dillon Rammstein lit up a joint and Matt Washington shouted at him to 'Take that shit outside, man.' Dillon shoved past the girls' couch to go onto the patio. It was reassuring to know that Matt was such a conscientious host." 

"Nobody seemed particularly interested in playing charades, or any game that didn't involve killing computer generated prostitutes."

From Peter's blog:

"I do not understand Vitaminwater, by the way. Drink some water. Eat some vitamins. Are you so busy that you need those two tasks combined into one? I mean, I know New Yorkers have a lot going on, but chill the hell out."

Bloggers will be interested in the gap between the real world and the life portrayed online. An unreliable blogger makes for good satire of social media and of the New York publishing world. The author is also an editor of young adult fiction. Sales clearly knows her Ibsen and the Brooklyn club scene. Could there be a better juxtaposition?

I discovered the author's previous novel, This Song Will Save Your Life, while browsing in Longfellow Books in Portland, Maine. After two brilliantly original books with awesome soundtracks, Leila Sales has joined my favorite author list. Her young adult novels would appeal to fans of Jennifer E. Smith's and of Stephanie Perkins's YA romances. However, Tonight the Streets Are Ours is more than a teen romance; it's also a cautionary tale for high achieving girls and their over-extended super moms.

Reviewer's Disclosure: I requested a free digital galley from netgalley in exchange for an honest review. Tonight will be released in hardcover and in ebook on September 15th, 2015.

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Celebrating 25 Years of Marriage: a British-American Romance

Henry and Sarah Laurence

I was in college when my future husband met me by chance. After moving into off campus housing, my phone stopped working. This was years before cell phones so I knocked on a random door to test my landline in a neighbor’s outlet. Henry had a cute accent and gorgeous green eyes, but best of all, he made me laugh. “Get rid of the phone and have a beer,” were his first words to me. His British co-pats were flipping pancakes in celebration of Shrove Tuesday, a holiday new to me. I was charmed into accepting his invitation, even though I didn't usually drink on school nights.

Henry claimed it was love at first sight, but I was skeptical. I was wearing glasses with my hair in a ponytail and that doing-my-laundry outfit. When I ran into Henry the next day, he didn't recognize me at first. I groaned about a quiz on the countries, capitals and rivers of Africa. Henry sketched a map on a napkin. Then he asked me out on a date that weekend: sushi and a James Joyce movie.

A date? Nobody at college went on real dates. Henry showed up with flowers one day and with chocolates on another. He recited Shakespeare by heart, truly enjoyed dancing and never left the house without an umbrella. I felt like a character in a Jane Austen novel.

In Goring-on-Thames, England with Henry before my first white tie ball at Oxford University. Photo by Nicola Laurence.

When Henry proposed three weeks after we met, I nearly broke up with him. At barely twenty-one, I was looking for a boyfriend, not a husband. Henry was only at Harvard for one term, studying Japanese political economy. In June he had to return to his job at the Bank of Tokyo in London. I had applied to summer internships in Alaska, Australia and England. With a gentle nudge, I chose the anti-whaling campaign at Greenpeace's international headquarters in London.

Henry kept proposing under rainbows, in rose gardens and along the Thames Rivers. He tried to trick me with triple negatives: "Is it not true that you would not never marry me?" He was irresistible. Some people thought we were crazy, but for an international relationship to work, we needed a big commitment. A two year engagement gave us plenty of time to get to know each other better.

With my Dalton School friends in New York Harbor aboard the DeWitt Clinton.

I was the first of my friends to become engaged so I was clueless about weddings. My Jewish father had married my Episcopalian mother in a tiny civil ceremony. Henry was Anglican, but I didn't want to deny half of my heritage with a church wedding and we both wanted to keep it small and intimate.

Since Henry loved crew and sailing and his father had served in the merchant navy, my dad floated the idea of a ship captain performing the ceremony. We all loved the concept.

Henry below deck with Jenny and Tim Moore from London. Photo by my cousin Peter Nohrnberg.

Unfortunately a captain-officiated wedding would require being two miles out to sea in international waters. Friends and family were already traveling to New York from England, Japan and Israel.

Instead, we brought a Unitarian minister on board the DeWitt Clinton, who combined Old and New Testament readings with Shakespeare and a ceremonial breaking of a wine glass. We were wed in New York Harbor twenty-five years ago...or rather we would have been if we hadn't forgotten the marriage license! That was corrected dockside before we left for our honeymoon.

Henry and his father before the World Trade Center. Photo by Peter Nohrnberg.

In twenty five years the world has changed radically. I never thought our wedding album would become a memorial to the fallen Twin Towers. I'd sooner remember them like this, with happy memories.

We started a family early so that now in my forties, I'm amazed to find myself an empty nester. With time to date each other once again, I'm pleased that we haven't lost our special connection. Henry challenges me intellectually, and he still makes me laugh. Twenty-five long-stem roses and dinner out in Portland proved that romance didn't wilt over time.

There are more rainbows than ever before. The best anniversary gift of all was the Supreme Court ruling on Obergefell vs. Hodge, granting the right of marriage to same sex couples in all of the United States. I wish these newly wed couples as much love and happiness as we have shared over the years.
Cheers and mazel tov!

Photo credits: unlabeled wedding photos by Carol A. Turrentine. Family photo in Freeport, Maine by Annie Rose. Double rainbow photo in New Hampshire by me.

Snoooow!

What I woke up to this morning...in mid April! 

At least I got my daffodil fix last week in NYC.

The people at Columbia College were very helpful with my research. 

When I got back home, all the ice had melted. I thought we'd seen the last of the snow. You need a good sense of humor and an excellent pair of boots to live in Maine. 

Thanks so much for all your encouraging comments last week. I'm taking a blog vacation to finish the first round of revisions on my novel. My crit-partner, the talented Charlotte Agell, will be reading my work-in-progress next week. I'll be away touring colleges with my 16-year-old daughter.
I'll be back online May 7th. 

Happy Passover and Easter!

A Rough Draft of the Maine Novel

After seven months of writing, I have completed the first draft of a new young adult novel! It's a rough draft riddled with inconsistencies and plot holes, but the main story, setting and characters are there. I have chatted and written notes to these people at all hours of the day and night. My family has to remind me that my characters aren't real. You know that feeling when you're engrossed in reading a book? It's even more intense if you are writing that book. I kept writing because it was the only way I'd know what would happen.

First drafts are thrilling but also challenging. Although I know the initial set-up and the ending before I start writing, the narrative can go in so many directions in between. The characters are defined existentially through their actions, but those choices are made as I work through the plot. Initially my focus is on story and on character developed and not on writing craft. My first draft looks so coarse compared to a final polished manuscript. It makes me cringe with embarrassment. I much prefer revision to drafting, but it's all part of a process that can span more than a year. There will be months of revision and beta testing on teen readers before I share the manuscript with my agent.

Central Park in April a couple of years ago.

The timing couldn't be better for fleshing out a novel set in the spring of senior year. For hometown details, I'll be revisiting Monhegan Island and harbor towns that inspired my fictional coastal community. Since my protagonist has been accepted to Columbia College, my first field trip is to New York City, where I grew up. The last time I was on campus was back in high school so I've signed up for a prospective student tour tomorrow. I'll be the only parent accompanied by a virtual daughter!

I'm starting my field work in New York because Maine is still a fraying patchwork of snow and ice. This has been an unusually long winter and a protracted mud season. I'm craving flowers, warmth and any color beyond frosty white and muddy brown. I'm staying with my parents, seeing friends and celebrating Passover with my family. There will be time for museums and shops. I need a short break.

Happy spring!