All posts tagged: ficiton

WeekEND Reading: Holly Chamberlin talks about mouth-watering New England summertime foods, her obsession with jewelry, paring down, and overcoming grief and heartache in her new novel, HOME FOR THE SUMMER.

By Leslie Lindsay  Three generations of one family–a grandmother, daughter, and granddaughter–escape to a beautiful coastal town in Maine to find healing in the wake of heartbreaking loss in bestselling author, Holly Chamberlin’s twentieth (!?!) novel, HOME FOR THE SUMMER. When both her husband (Aaron) and youngest daughter (Ariel) die in a tragic accident on vacation, Frieda Braithwaite is left a bereft mother and widow. There’s survivor guilt and financial and emotional struggles; fearing she’ll lose her remaining daughter, Frieda and Bella leave their home for Maine, where Ruby, Frieda’s mother has always lived in an old farmhouse. With the help of new friends and old—plus, the healing balm of family, Frieda and Bella mend their broken hearts. HOME FOR THE SUMMER is a sweet, tender read set in a tranquil coastal town that will carry along with those who yearn for simpler times and readers who resonate with the works of Karen White, Diane Chamberlain, Elin Hilderbrand, and Nicholas Sparks. Come along and join me as I chat with Holly about her newest book, HOME …

Fiction Friday: Portrait of Miscarriage, Frida Kahlo

By Leslie Lindsay As part of my research for my novel-in-progress I have come across some grisly accounts of miscarriage. Mind you, I’ve never been through this traumatic event myself and wouldn’t wish it on anyone. My character, Mel has had a series of them. As part of her healing process, a grief group counselor has asked her to write about the experience. Mel is also a former journalist and this piece may play into some of her desire to write. “In 1932, Mexican artist Frida Kahlo painted a gruesome self-portrait. She lies naked on a bed labeled, “Henry Ford Hospital, Detroit.” This is where her miscarriage took place. A pool of blood stains the white sheets of the neatly made bed. A large tear falls from her left eye. A perfectly formed baby boy floats above the artist like a balloon, tethered to a red rope she holds in her hand. Another red rope in her hand is a snail, depicting that this miscarriage—one of at least two she’s suffered—occurred at a horrifically slow …

Fiction Friday: Even the Losers…

By Leslie Lindsay A backstory chapter I’ve been toiling over working on this past week.  Guy wants girl back.  Girl is busy.  This picks up in the middle of the chapter, told from a guy’s POV.            We sat for a minute more, Annie with her eagle-eyes looking over her handiwork on the furniture and me feeling like an ass for having dropped by like I had. I wiped a splatter of white paint from her cheek.  She turned slightly away from me, a pale shade of pink creeping up her neck.             “Uh, Steve,” half question, half statement,” I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m kind of busy.”             “I know.”  I looked around the room again.  The CD had skipped songs to another Petty favorite.             If you’re making me wait, if you’re leading me on.            I cleared my voice.  God, I really shouldn’t have come by.  Why did I?  But I knew the answer.  “I am wondering when you might want to get back together.”  It all came out without any …