Distracted

Early Monday morning and I’m sitting on a deck, looking out at Lake George, stunned by its beauty. I’m working on my new novel, which is a suspense novel. Something different for me, and I’m very excited about it. My mind is humming along. Except that, there’s a part of my mind that’s somewhere else because I know that next week this time I’ll be starting chemo.

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Bombarding Bookstores

Brooklyn was hot and sticky. After days of rain, the sun had returned with a vengeance, beating down on the young residents darting between cafes and boiling the trash-bags tucked in alleys. I’d been walking for miles. Sweat had ceased beading on my hairline and begun dampening the back of my neck. My shoulder sopped beneath the strap of the heavy bag that I carried, laden with books.

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The joy of music

I love music: cheesy 1980s anthems, chamber, jazz, classic rock and roll, baroque, bachata, cabaret, chansons, big band, electro swing, disco, broadway, pop, American songbook, country, and styles I have yet to discover (including noir rock … thanks Cate!). To riff off the famous quote by Lily Bollinger, “I listen to music when I’m happy and when I’m sad. Sometimes I listen to it when I’m alone. When I have company I consider it obligatory.” Music can transform our moods, lift our spirits, and soothe our souls.

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Weltschmerz? Read about trains.

It’s hard to pick up a newspaper these days without reading something that makes your heart ache. It doesn’t matter where you live or how you vote, all of us are aware that there’s a lot of suffering in this world. We have different levels of tolerance, but most of us have a limit to how much disheartening information we can take in without feeling overwhelmed. It’s very tempting to completely disengage.

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