Forever Friends by Liz Flaherty

"I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers." - Anne Shirley, who would surely have been my kindred spirit if I'd been born at the right time and in the right place. To the right ... well, you know what I mean.  

I think often about books I grew up with, like Anne of Green Gables or Understood Betsy or Little Women or even the Trixie Belden series. When I think of them or when I remember parts of the stories that are especially beloved, I wonder exactly what made them stand out so much that decades later, I can still repeat dialogue almost verbatim or cry over scenes. I realize that if I reread Little Women, I skip over Beth's death and Laurie and Amy's marriage. I never read about when Matthew Cuthbert died

Why am I still wounded by losses and betrayals in books of fiction I read before high school? Especially when I'm not at all wounded by things that happened when I was in high school. That was four years of really good times and really shattering heartbreaks, and yet those memories are mostly dimmed or of no relevance at all. 

I can explain. I think. 

The people in those books from long ago--Anne and Diana, the March girls, Betsy and little Mollie, Trixie and Honey and the Bob-Whites of the Glen--never became fictional characters to me. Even now, they're friends I grew up with. 

My school friends are still friends, too, but they've aged along with me--a blessing by itself. The book friends are still as I knew them between the covers of their stories.

This probably isn't a shock to anyone else, but I was really surprised to figure it out as a reader. I always knew it as a writer. Those people who present themselves to me and wanted me to tell their stores are as real in my mind and heart as ... well, as Trixie and Anne and the March sisters.

I've always said I didn't expect to change lives with my books--I just wanted to give readers a good afternoon. I still feel that way, but I also hope they consider the people whose stories I tell to be friends. 

Speaking of friends, The Girls of Tonsil Lake have been friends since they were five, and they still are. The story of the year they are 51 is one of my favorites. And Jean, Suzanne, Andi, and Vin are still my friends. 

Four women whose differences only deepen the friendship forged in a needy childhood... They were four little girls living in ramshackle trailers beside a lake in rural Indiana. They shared everything from dreams to measles to boyfriends to more dreams. As they grew up, everything in their lives changed--except their friendship. Through weddings and divorces, births and deaths, one terrible secret has kept them close despite all the anger, betrayal, and pain. Now, forty years later, facing illness, divorce, career challenges, and even addiction, the women come together once again for a bittersweet month on an island in Maine. Staring down their fifties, they must consider the choices life is offering them now and face the pain of what happened long ago. Secrets are revealed and truths uncovered, but will their time together cement their lifelong friendship--or drive them apart forever?

 

Amazon: https://a.co/d/7391moA and https://a.co/d/4t6MnzQ

D2D: https://books2read.com/u/bxGQQk

A Turn of Phrase ...

I wrote this in April of 2020 for the Word Wranglers blog. I had absolutely no idea I'd be feeling the same way over five years later! I'm sorry I do, to tell the truth, but I still like a good turn of phrase, and the stories I talked about here. - Liz

Because I want comfort right now, and things to laugh at, and no surprises, I've been reading books I've read before, usually a long time ago. I love them. It's not that I think writers then were necessarily better than they are now or even that the stories were better, but there was something about the way those writers spun the language that I don’t see in modern prose.

I read Betty MacDonald’s Onions in the Stew this week. She referred to Vashon Island as “plump and curvy” and to Mt. Rainier as a “magnificent, unbelievably shy mountain who parts her clouds and shows her exquisite face…” She writes that a “tiny white church up to its knees in non-ecclesiastical currant bushes holds a bony arm bearing a small cross high up toward the pale sky.” Yet another church, “large hipped…glares disapprovingly” at a movie theater. I can see those things, can’t you? I think I can feel them, too.

Do you remember when the needle grew “too heavy” for Beth March? I was nine years old when I first read it. All these shockingly many years later, my heart breaks yet again.

“I’m so glad,” said Anne of Green Gables, “I live in a world where there are Octobers.” Remember her of the new days with no mistakes in them yet? It became a mantra for me when it seemed as if I couldn’t go even a few hours without something going wrong.

Although I haven't yet, I have no doubt I will delve into some old Betty Neels books before this crisis ends. They are the mashed potatoes and gravy of comfort reads, and I can't wait. I know what's going to happen in each of her over 100 books, and I don't care--I'll read 'em again. Same with Rosamund Pilcher's The Shell Seekers. There's just something about the way they talk to me. 

I blogged once that something I always looked for and cherished in books I read (and wrote) was tenderness. (SPOILER ALERT) LaVyrle Spencer is one of my favorite writers, and Forgiving is possibly my favorite of her books. Much of the reason for this is that tenderness threads through the entire story like fingers unbraiding hair. The last line of the book was, “And they slept. Delivered.”

I love being a writer. I talk about retiring from it, but probably never will. I love being a reader, too, because of the richness reading gives to my life. Because of turns of phrase and just the right word in just the right place. Because of a breaking heart, a borrowed mantra, and the soft, sweet sigh of “Delivered.”

Share with us. What are some of your favorite place settings of words or your favorite writers who set those places?

Moments and Memories and Stories by Liz Flaherty #SmartGirlsReadRomance

My husband and I were talking about our paternal grandparents tonight. Neither of us remembers them well. My grandfather died when I was two, Grandma when I was seven. I was near the end of the line of her 20-some grandchildren and she was 77 when I was born. I remember where she sat in the living room and kitchen of the house that is still in our family. I remember that she drank her coffee from a cracked cup and that she wore her long white hair in a bun at the back of her head. I remember her funeral. 

Other than that, the only sharp memory I have of Grandma Shafer is the day I followed Dad into the kitchen and she looked past him at me and said, "What did you bring her for?"

I have no idea what she meant. Was she serious? Teasing? Just tired of kids being around every day of her life--first her nine and then the next generation? 

I laughed about it when Duane and I talked about it. "It doesn't matter," I said. "It didn't hurt or enhance my life."

"I think it does matter," he said, and I just shook my head. 

And yet 66 years later, I still remember where she sat, the sharp look on her face when she looked at me, stepping back behind my dad again. 

It didn't change my life in any way. Or did it? I know if I ever said words like this to my grands, they'd know I was kidding. They'd know I love them more than my life. That they are so much fun. I'm not sure I'd be so careful of that if I didn't remember Grandma's words.

It is moments like this that sometimes start stories for us, isn't it? The March girls bemoaning a sad and poor Christmas. Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm riding on the coach with Mr. Cobb. Scarlett O'Hara deciding what dress to wear. In my own book, One More Summer, Dillon shows up 15 years late for the prom. 

I've been dreaming about the beginning of my next story. About a woman whose name I think is Maggie who inherits a cottage on a nondescript little lake. I don't have much yet, but the idea came with two words. Trilby died. 

Like the remembered words of my grandmother, those two don't matter. Except that they opened the previously sealed envelope of Chapter One. 

I'm so excited. 

"Little Women" (Movie) Opened in the UK Last Week! #books and #movies

Welcome to SMART GIRLS READ ROMANCE again. We're happy you dropped in!If you're as excited as me to see the new film LITTLE WOMEN, here are some interesting facts about the new film and, of course, Alcott's book.

The story behind Little Women all begins with Orchard House in Concord, Massachusetts, the home of the book’s author, Louis May Alcott. 

The new film, Little Women, opened in the UK today. It’s not surprising the director of the movie, Greta Gerwig, brought the cast and crew to Orchard House before filming. She wanted the women in the film to realize how Louis and her family really lived. 

Here are the actors in the new film:

Saoirse Ronan plays Josephine "Jo" March (Alcott’s alter-ego)

Emma Watson is Meg (based on Louisa’s real-life sister Anna)

Florence Pugh is Amy (youngest sister May)

Eliza Scanlen is Beth (namesake of Elizabeth).

Marmee is played by Laura Dern

Meryl Streep is the formidable Aunt March 

Good things to know beforehand if you ever plan to visit Orchard House, although the house has a tour guide and will provide you with lots of information.

* The Alcotts’ home has been preserved largely as they left it, down to Louisa’s needlework kit with her name embroidered on it.

* The kitchen still has the soapstone sink and a bread board that artist May used to practice pyrography – burning pictures into wood.

* May’s paintings and drawings also adorn the dining room, parlor, Louisa’s room and her own bedroom. In the family’s study there’s a portrait of May, who spent her last years in Europe.

* The girls’ father Amos was an idealist teacher who championed vegetarianism, social justice and women’s rights but whose financial mistakes kept the family in poverty.

* The house was already 200 years old when he bought it in 1857 and named it after an orchard of 40 apple trees within the grounds.

* His wife Abigail, or “Abba”, always stood by him, despite his inability to support her and their daughters. Being without him would be like “living without breath”, she wrote in her journal.

* Louisa managed to make money by selling stories before eventually writing Little Women and its sequels, Little Men and Jo’s Boys. When her health began to deteriorate, she took safe harbor in Switzerland. She died at age 55.

* The sisters also used the dining room as a stage, performing home-made plays for friends and neighbors who gathered in an adjoining parlor. Below is a picture of Louisa's bedroom. 

For those who will never get the chance to visit Louis May Alcott’s home, you can find the book HERE  where Alcott dispenses immense knowledge about their lives and Orchard House. 

 

If you’re not a fan of Coming-of-Age stories (the official genre of Little Women), I have a book from the same era (set in the United States) on special this month.

 SOJOURN WITH A STRANGER

A dark, Gothic romance

"This story has everything & then some–romance, birth, death, voodoo, adventure, psychic ability. I could not put it down! Not once!"⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

"Sojourn With A Stranger is absolutely wonderful! I was captivated from beginning to end. The characters blend together effortlessly while keeping up the normal love hate relationship they seem to share.” ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

"Diablo excels at creating characters with depth and charisma and then placing them in unusual, sometimes uncomfortable, situations. The story is outstanding, the characters are delightful and the hot intimate scenes are tastefully described in such a way that is sure to set fire to your heart.” ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Raine Brinsley is penniless after her are parents drowned at sea. She's sent by the local minister to Stafford House to apply for a job as a servant. Despite the alarm bells going off in her head, she accepts the offer of employment. She has one goal in mind, to return to her beloved grandfather in Maine. ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

About Sojourn With A Stranger:

Lord of the Manor, Derek Stafford, has his own dilemmas to worry about. His wife committed suicide some time ago after several babies were stillborn. Derek and his brother, Lyman, race to produce the first male heir of Stafford House. The winner will receive not only the title to the eloquent manor but also an enormous sum of money from their wealthy father.
Derek decides the beautiful Raine will make the perfect surrogate. If only he can convince the young woman that signing a contract to bear his son will serve both their needs: She can return to her grandfather and he'll inherit a life of wealth and luxury.
But dark stirrings are afoot at Stafford House. A ghost haunts the halls of the manor and the spirit is intent on exposing her killer to Raine. Steeped in murderous plots, Derek and Raine face insurmountable odds of achieving their dreams.
And fight the insatiable hunger between them.

DOWNLOAD HERE FOR 99 PENNIES