But the heat!!!

I stayed at the Fairhope Inn, which was a lovely place but, it turned out, it’s a Bed & Breakfast. And I—famous curmudgeon that I am—do not like Bed & Breakfasts. The pressure to socialize is too great and also, they really get sad if you don’t come down to breakfast. The first night I think I was the only one there and I told the very nice proprietor that no, I wasn’t going to have breakfast the next morning because they stopped serving it at 9 AM and I’m not even coherent, yet alone hungry, by 9 AM. The proprietor seemed crushed.

So the 2^nd day – my last day there – I did go down but I was barely conscious. And then the thing that I feared the most happened: There were other people there. Other people who—getting into the spirit of the entire Bed & Breakfast vibe—wanted to talk to me.

Look. I’m not a complete misanthrope, but really, I don’t want to talk to people before I’m completely caffeinated. I want to drink my coffee and do my word puzzles and slowly ease into the day. This is why I don’t generally stay in Bed & Breakfasts but it was kind of the only option within walking distance to the store.

However, the people who wanted to talk to me were very nice and it ended up being fine, and so I live another day.

Another day when there is – wait for it – HUGE Windsor Drama!

Yesterday Harry and Meghan announced they are moving back to Great Britain and boy, the gossip is flying fast and furious. And I couldn’t help but compare this to another wandering Windsor who wanted to move back home but who—unlike his great-great nephew, Prince Harry—could not. And that Windsor is none other than David, the former Edward VIII, later the Duke of Windsor, whose abdication of the throne to be with the woman he loved is pretty much what my novel, The Windsor Affair, is about.

When my novel came out, there were natural comparisons between David and Wallis Simpson and Harry and Meghan Markle. Two couples who voluntarily left the Royal Family; two members of the Royal Family who happened to marry Americans.

But there are a lot of differences, too.

When David gave up the throne, he didn’t give up Great Britain. He didn’t think he had, at any rate. When he left the country to join Wallis in France to wait out her divorce and eventually marry, there was every expectation on their part that they would return to Great Britain to live, at least most of the time. All their things were left behind at The Fort, David’s private home on the grounds of Windsor Castle.

This situation was so unprecedented there wasn’t a guidebook for anyone to go by. So David thought he could abdicate the throne but still work on behalf of the Crown or the government after all the dust settled. There were people in the government who initially thought that would be fine. There were still a lot of his loyal subjects who wanted him back, too.

His brother Bertie—now King George VI—was most likely initially amenable to this kind of arrangement. He was a good-hearted soul who loved and admired his brother. At this point, despite the ruptured relationship between the two due to David’s actions, Bertie wasn’t ready to banish his brother forever.

I do think that his wife, Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon, and other members of the government and the Royal Family had other ideas, however. I think they understood that there couldn’t be two living kings in the country at the same time, even if one was a former king. There was a fear, for a long while, that David would try to reclaim the throne and cause upheaval, if not a civil war. I don’t believe he had that idea, at least not then. I do believe he loved his country and all things British and never wanted to leave it completely. He only wanted to leave the job in order to marry Wallis.

But then came World War II. And prior to that, David and Wallis’s trip to Nazi Germany where they met Hitler. And David’s radio address urging appeasement and peace instead of impending war.

After the war started, the Nazi government reached out to the Duke and Duchess of Windsor. They urged David to ask his brother the king to surrender in exchange for a kind of puppet kingdom, in which he and Wallis would return to the throne after Germany won the war. As these communications were happening, the British government and the king and queen were aware of them. And after the war, more damaging info came out. Some people insist David and Wallis were spying for Hitler all along. I don’t think that was true. But it is true that David didn’t see anything wrong in London being bombed if it meant that the British government would surrender and end the war.

It’s also true that all this sealed David’s fate; he could never return to Great Britain. He could never in any way be seen to represent the British government. He and Wallis lived the rest of their lives in France, and he was devastated.

Now, Harry, of course, isn’t a former king. When he left, he was fifth in line to the throne. So it’s apples and oranges, in a very real way. He’s no threat to usurp the crown. And no matter his faults, he’s definitely not trying to sell out his country to the Nazis.

When he decided to stop being a working member of the Royal Family, that’s pretty much all he stopped being. He never said he wasn’t going to return to the UK someday.

His and Meghan’s biggest problem has always been with the British press; the cruelty, the racism, and the allegations that some members of the Royal Family have sold them out to said press in order to distract from their own scandals or misdeeds. The Sussexes have felt that the Royal Family did not defend them when the press really got nasty, and it certainly didn’t protect them from the racist overtones.

So while the details are still unknown—did they reach an agreement with the government to get the security they need for their children? Did they broker some kind of arrangement with the Royal Family to not sell them out again?—the fact remains that Harry always had a path to return. And due to his own actions, his great-great uncle didn’t.

Only he didn’t realize that until it was far too late, and it broke him. He mourned Great Britain for the rest of his life.

Edward Albert Christian George Andrew Patrick David Windsor found he couldn’t go home again.

Henry Charles Albert David Windsor can. And is. But stay tuned for more drama.

There always is with this family.

I have been freed from Das Boot! After six weeks of pretty much never leaving my house, I am now free to walk about the city (slowly, gradually increasing distance, in a lace-up ankle brace).

I’m getting ready to travel again, and I’m so glad I don’t have to do it in a boot! I’ll be appearing at Page and Palette bookstore in Fairhope, Alabama on Tuesday, August 18^th. Info here, as well as info about other appearances. I still have a couple more to add.

Other than that, I’ve just been thinking and plotting and commencing to start writing again. I’ve started a bit, but I’m not yet ready to release the Kraken, so to speak. But soon!

And we’re getting ready to be invaded by military jets and skydivers and boats as this weekend is the annual Chicago Air and Water Show. Actually, some of the jets flew overhead yesterday. It’s funny. I used to get so pumped for this weekend; we live near the location of the show (off North Avenue Beach) so we hear the jets screaming overhead and if we’re out and about, we see them flying over the beach, between the skyscrapers, and I used to think it was pretty cool. And it is, for a minute.

But now, I think of all the poor pets who are traumatized by the noise. I also can’t help but feel some horror at the blatant military display, knowing that so many people in other countries equate screaming military jets with something much worse than a good time. Like, you know—imminent death. So now that I’m older, and I guess wearier of the state of the world, I have mixed feelings. There is a literal buzz in the air this week, that’s for sure. And it just adds to the terrific atmosphere of a Chicago summer that’s jampacked with festivals and shows and concerts and parades.

Speaking of parades, you know something I like a lot more than the Air and Water Show? The Bud Billiken Day Parade, and I bet you’ve never heard of it. Neither had I, until I moved to Chicago. So get ready to learn something cool.

The Bud Billiken Day Parade is the largest African-American parade in the United States, and it’s been around since 1929!

Back in 1905, a man named Robert S. Abbott founded a newspaper called The Chicago Defender. It’s still publishing, online. The Defender was a ground-breaking Black newspaper that defied traditional (meaning mainly white-owned) papers and informed readers of the lynchings that were happening, primarily in the south, during the Jim Crow era.

Abbott worked (underground) with Pullman porters who were based in Chicago to get the newspaper distributed in the south. And the paper urged readers there to move to the north to escape that area’s violence and segregation; eventually, due to other circumstances as well, this led to the Great Migration. (Read Isabel Wilkerson’s The Warmth of Other Suns, which is just terrific.)

The Great Migration brought a lot of African-Americans to Chicago. So Abbott used the Defender to help define and inform the black communities here, and of course cover news that was important to them, including labor and political issues.

In 1923, Abbott and another editor founded the Bud Billiken Club, and featured it on the Defender, Junior page of the paper, encouraging black children to read, and providing them with social and academic opportunities and stories that encouraged children to take pride in their race. (Remember, this was the 1920s.)

Bud Billiken is completely fictitious, just a name and face for the club and its goals, but a Billiken was a popular mythical creature of the time, a cartoon-like elfin thing first drawn by a woman named Florence Petz, who dreamed it up. She decided the little-thing-was supposed to bring luck and protect children.

In order to encourage children to attend school every year, the Defender and the Bud Billiken Club decided to hold a parade and a picnic (really, it’s now a big festival) near the end of summer. Over the years the parade has expanded; lots of celebrities and important figures participate (such as Michael Jordan and President Barack Obama; even Harry Truman once was Grand Marshall!). What I love is all the school groups who participate, like dance troupes and marching bands and the famous Jesse White Tumblers. (Look them up. They’re beloved in Chicago and beyond, even appearing recently on America’s Got Talent. They will blow your mind.)

And then at the festival after the parade, local organizations provide school supplies and things like backpacks and stuff to children whose parents can’t afford them, so that they’re all ready to start the new school year.

I just love this parade. It’s in the Bronzeville neighborhood (which is a really cool neighborhood historically and architecturally and should definitely be part of any Chicago visit!). And it’s televised.

I love it for the community and history it celebrates, and of course, because it’s all about getting kids excited to go back to school and learn. But there’s also a little melancholy around it, because it does mark the end of summer in Chicago and that’s always a little sad.

Still, now you know what a Bud Billiken is. You learned something!

Just like the kids at the Bud Billiken Parade.

Anyhoo. You get the picture.

But today I am determined to talk about good things! By nature, I’m an optimistic pessimist; I’m always positive something bad will happen. However, even I, Ms. Scrooge, am aware that this outlook can take its toll plus people will stop inviting you places if all you do is mope. So here, with much fanfare, are a few things that have brought a smile to my face these past weeks:

Sitting in my patio garden (when it’s not raining and tornado-ing). Every year of container gardening has been trial and error. We have a back patio deck which is simple: it has rail flower boxes of begonias and hanging baskets of fuchsia, and enough air circulation and morning sun that it takes care of itself. But the lower, garden-level front walled patio is different. It has so much more potential but it has more problems, too—poor air circulation (we have a fan on constantly to keep the air moving), more mosquitoes and flies, and less sun. I’ve found that some flowers will just rot off at the stem down there (begonias, mostly). Impatiens do well but they don’t flower as much as I’d like due to the lack of sun. Etc., etc. But this year! This year, I think I got it! I decided to plant perennials as annuals and have lots of ferns, hostas, ivy and even a hydrangea in pots. I’m writing this post in this pretty garden space. It’s my favorite, as it reminds me of a little Paris courtyard:

Chicago! Chicago makes me smile, always. But with Das Boot, husband and I haven’t been enjoying our usual Chicago summer, which entails a lot of walking. Still, last week we went to perhaps the prettiest outdoor dining spot, Chicago Cut (a place we can afford to visit only once a year!). It was a perfect day, even a little chilly, but at least we got out of the house and enjoyed the view!

Friends! We have managed to connect with a lot of friends these last couple of weeks, between driving to Indiana and seeing people we haven’t seen in years and going out to dinner here with newer friends and even going to – gasp! – a backyard party this last weekend. And my bestie Ed and I went out and got tipsy a couple of weeks ago, something we occasionally do without our husbands so we can talk about them. (Ed got tipsy. I got – more than tipsy. It was epic, and I haven’t done that in forever and you know what? I don’t think I’ll ever do it again. Some things are best left as youthful memories.)

Reading! Well, actually, I’ve been in a huge reading slump for weeks. I’ve started and stopped so many novels but a few did stand out, mainly Country People by Daniel Mason. I have recommended it to everyone. It’s funny and delightful and perfect. I loved his last novel, North Woods, and this isn’t quite as epic as that was, but it’s genuinely funny and heartwarming and generous.

And this leads me to:

Simplifying. I’m pretty done with the world right now, as it is. AI, as I mentioned. Social media—now that my last novel has been out for a couple of months, I’m pulling back. I am not a person who likes social media. I actively dislike it. There are good things, or at least there were in the beginning, mainly connection. Connecting with old friends, connecting with readers. But the hysteria and vitriol and people who are hellbent on ruining lives based on innocuous posts; it’s not my cup of tea. So I’ve given myself a break from it and also, then, I found myself looking back to when I was most happy and content with life, which was before social media and before AI and before streaming and all the NOISE. Back when I used to watch local television for my news, listened to the radio, not podcasts, read magazines (something I just realized I’ve stopped doing, and I have no idea why), and read the type of books people aren’t publishing much of these days. So to that end, these last couple of days I’ve: Started my day watching the WGN Morning News, something I used to do daily. Listened to WGN talk radio during the day. Read the latest issue of InStyle Magazine (OK, I read it on my laptop, but still!). And started re-reading a trilogy of books that I read, and loved, years ago: The Old Filth Trilogy by Jane Gardam. I love all things British, as you know, particularly the literature, and these fit the bill. (I might reread another favorite series, The Cazelet Chronicles by Elizabeth Jane Howard, next.) I’m going to link to someone whose written about the Old Filth Trilogy better than I can, to give you a taste of it. Anyway, re-reading these old favorites not only satisfies my desire for a certain type of book but also reminds me of happier, simpler times, and I crave those times right now, in particular.

I used to shake my head at my dad when he refused to embrace new things as he aged. And I don’t think I’m doing that! But I understand, now, that sometimes the world does move too fast and seem too alien and unfriendly, and our brains need to find safe harbors. And sometimes—perhaps most times—those safe harbors are memories of the past. But I don’t want only to live in memories, which is why I’m trying to reintroduce some of those simpler things into this more complicated world, and find a happy middle ground, a peaceful life.

More and more, this is my main quest every single day.

What could you do, or what do you do, in your own life, to combine a simpler past with a hectic present and create a peaceful life?

When I was little, I absolutely loved those books. Maybe they were the first historical novels I ever read and that’s why I write historical fiction. I still reread them now and then, but I also know that these books were heavily edited by Laura Ingalls Wilder’s daughter, Rose, who had a definite agenda, which was mainly the supporting whole white manifest destiny version of the American west, instead of the much more complicated reality. And of course, they were written during a time when it was OK to be more than a little racist, and they are.

I also know that the conditions of life in the plains were much harsher than the books showed (even in The Long Winter) and I pitched an idea to my editor long ago about writing a book from Caroline’s perspective because I thought that Charles must have been EXHAUSTING, given how he uprooted his poor family time and time again and never seemed satisfied. My editor didn’t like the idea but then someone else wrote it and later she told me she regretted not letting me do it.

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I remembered that a few years later when I pitched her the idea for the book that became The Children’s Blizzard. Maybe because she regretted not being on board for the Caroline book (and truth be told, there was a very anti-western feeling in publishing at the time), she was enthusiastic about this idea. So I wrote it, this novel about the real 1888 blizzard on the Great Plains during which so many school children died and young schoolteachers had to make life and death decisions in an instant. It’s also about the immigrant experience in America at the time.

When I was researching the book, that’s when I re-read the Little House books again, and I was particularly struck by a scene in These Happy Golden Years when Laura is boarding out to teach at a school and she wakes up in the middle of the night to find the wife of the household standing over her husband with a knife in her hand. This sequence is really out of place in the books—it’s so dark, compared to everything else—but it was key to my writing one of the characters in The Children’s Blizzard, a woman who is driven to near madness in large part because she’s been uprooted from her family by a restless husband and forced to live in this punishing environment. She’s the darkest character I’ve ever written and I absolutely love her, still. Because she represents to me the truth behind the stereotypically saintly “Ma Ingalls” character; women had no choice but to follow their foolish husbands, they were so often torn apart from their families and never saw them again as they accompanied their men out west. And very often, these women were driven mad; there are a lot of real diaries and letters out there that portray this.

Anyway – all this is to say that The Children’s Blizzard is my personal favorite among all my novels. Just what makes a novel a personal favorite is a mystery, I think. We authors love every book that we’ve written, of course. Especially while we’re writing them. But over time, we see things we couldn’t see while we were writing, and sometimes we’re a little disappointed in ourselves. But other times, we say, “Hot damn, I wrote the hell out of that book!”

And that’s what I think about The Children’s Blizzard. I’ll read some parts and I’m still stunned by them, like the point of view of a hawk the morning after the blizzard. Or the story arc of the character I just mentioned, Anna Pedersen, and also that of Gavin Woodson. I really pushed myself as an author with that one, it’s my most “literary” book (whatever that means), but it packs an emotional wallop along with bringing to light so many historical truths that were buried or sanitized along the way. I was influenced by my desire to show the “real” Little House on the Prairie, and by Willa Cather who wrote so brilliantly of that time and place, plus I loved writing such a natural adventure story. I pushed myself every day to come up with a new way to describe cold, snow, and wind—and that was a fun exercise! I’d never written much about nature in my previous books, and in this one the blizzard is as much of a character as the people it impacted, and it was just a tremendous amount of fun to write.

Plus, for the first time, I got to murder someone in a book.

TCB became my first sleeper success. When it was first launched in January of 2021, there was kind of a lot going on in the world. Pandemic, election, sedition, etc. We couldn’t go out to do events because of the pandemic, so everything was by Zoom, and that was very hit-or-miss in terms of reaching readers. Nobody was going out to bookstores. So you could safely say this novel was launched very quietly.

But in the ensuing years, it’s continued to sell. Almost every week when I look at all the sales stats, it’s my biggest seller. Except when I have a new book out, as I did with The Windsor Affair last month. For a few weeks that’s always leading the way, but then things settle down and good ol’ Children’s Blizzard retakes its top spot. It’s taught in some schools, which has helped. (It’s also really fun to stumble across some of these students’ book reports about the book, which can happen when you occasionally Google yourself.)

All this is kind of a ramble, isn’t it? Ah, well. Since I’m laid up with this foot fracture, a mental rambling is the only kind I can take these days!

But basically, if you like any version of Little House of the Prairie and haven’t read The Children’s Blizzard yet, maybe you will now.

I highly recommend it!

My walking boot is still bumming me out, because even though it says WALKING right in the description, my doctors told me that I’m not supposed to do that very much. Sigh. I bought a knee scooter, but totally forgot about the carpal tunnel in my hands and realized immediately that I wouldn’t be able to grip the handles for very long. Plus maybe I’m too short for one? I dunno, but it felt uncomfortable and unstable and I couldn’t see myself being able to go very far in it, particularly on crowded, uneven Chicago sidewalks. I would very much like to not injure my other leg, and that felt like a distinct possibility. So I’m donating it to charity.

But! We just got home from a very nice weekend away and I want to tell you about it!

With this book, since I wasn’t sent out on a traditional tour, my husband and I have been reaching out to independent bookstores on our own, trying to find a good fit for events that would be fun and beneficial. Sometimes authors get sent out to the same big bookstores over and over and over. Well, most times, actually. And sometimes with those big stores, you’re just one of maybe 5 or 6 authors they’re having in that week, and the audience can get fatigued with events every single night. So I’m finding that reaching out to stores that don’t usually get the big-name authors is a new and rewarding path. Anyway, there’s a wonderful bookstore in Nashville, IN called Naughty Dog Books that hosted me last Friday, and it was a terrific event! Lots of people came out and lots of books were sold and everyone couldn’t have been nicer.

Now, I was born and raised in Indiana, even though I’ve now lived more of my life elsewhere. We moved away when I was twenty-nine. I’m not twenty-nine anymore. But we returned to Indianapolis a lot to visit my parents, of course, and my son went to Indiana University, and so there are a lot of memories there.

Since my father passed away in 2021, though, we haven’t been back; we haven’t driven that familiar stretch of I-65 from Chicago to Indianapolis and beyond.

I don’t think I was prepared for the emotions I felt when we journeyed there again, after all this time.

First, I was just thrilled to be sitting in the front seat of a car! Living in Chicago, we’ve given up a car and spend a lot of time sitting in the backseat of other people’s cars. And that can get tiring. So it was joyful to rent a car and drive on our own, although I was sad that I couldn’t drive because of my darn foot. I love driving!

So that was fun. But driving down the familiar roads filled me with such overwhelming nostalgia—I keenly felt the passage of time, the loss of so many loved ones, the ghosts of my childhood and youth, the ghosts of my children’s childhood when we’d load them up in the car to go spend a weekend with Grandpa and Grandma. The memories of when I was young and cute and unformed. Just—you know. Life. The passing of it. How fleeting it is.

But we also had such a good time at the event, and just being out and about after so long stuck in our condo recovering from our various physical challenges this year. And then visiting the few family members and friends we still have there—that was wonderful! Again, we hadn’t seen them since my dad’s funeral. So there were lots of hugs and catching up.

All in all, as we drove back home on Sunday, my husband and I kept saying, “Wasn’t this a nice weekend?” As if we hadn’t expected it to be so nice, I guess? I suppose we were both a little unsure of how we’d feel, going back to Indiana for the first time since we lost my father, who was really our last tether to where we grew up. There’s a reason we left but there’s a larger reason why we didn’t go back, and that’s all I’ll say. Chicago is our home, our place, our safe space, our soul.

I’m not going to get all Thomas Wolf here, because I’ve never believed you SHOULD go back again. We’re not all born into families who love or understand us. And we’re not all born in the place where we belong. Sometimes you have to venture out into the world to find home. My father never lived more than ten miles away from the house where he was born, except for a time in the Navy. And while he was content with that, he also was never comfortable with anyone who didn’t have the exact same life experience that he had.

Funny that all of his children moved far away, when they were adults. We each had a different idea of home.

And now I’m out of profound thoughts! I’m just going to end on the fact that I had a very nice weekend and hung out with nice people and had the best fried chicken I’ve had in ages – Nashville House, in Nashville Indiana—and that Naughty Dog Books now has a ton of signed copies of THE WINDSOR AFFAIR and a couple of my other titles, if you want to order one.

Stay gold, Ponyboy!

Except, I can’t get out more this summer. Because I have a stress fracture in a weird bone - the talar bone - in my ankle, a bone that takes longer to heal, and now I’m in a boot for at least 6 weeks.

This is really bumming me out.

On Mother’s Day my husband and I were walking to a garden center and I tripped on a broken piece of sidewalk. (Thanks, Chicago!) I fell heavily on my left side. I had bruises all over my leg, a black eye, bruised fingers and a knee the size of a grapefruit. Fortunately everything healed, but the knee took about 4 weeks before it had full range of motion again. During this time, I couldn’t go on my long daily walks very often.

Now, my daily walks are key to my mental health. I have to feel connected to my surroundings; I need to see what new businesses are opening up, which ones have closed, who painted their garage door green, etc.

So, I couldn’t walk as I usually do for a lot of May and I was a little depressed. Then I was able to—and I was off! Really walking, stretching out, my brain said, “Ahhh,” my mood improved. But about 4 weeks ago I started feeling an ache in my right foot. Like a little kink. I thought I could stretch and walk it out, and for about two weeks, I did; it was just an occasional dull ache. But then I had two back-to-back long walks followed by an evening in heels. That night the foot was swollen and more painful than achy.

And so, after many doctor visits and imaging, I am now the sad owner of a stress fracture (likely not related to the earlier fall). And once again, I can’t walk for any great length of time.

This sucks. Really sucks.

This is going to be the summer that wasn’t, for me. I’m still trying to figure out how much I have to be off it, if I can use a knee scooter, etc. Yesterday I signed books at the American Library Association Annual Conference, which took place at McCormick Place, the huge convention complex in Chicago. I hobbled around, stubbornly refused to use a scooter, and yes, my foot did hurt. A lot.

So. That’s where I am as we head into the Fourth of July weekend. I have books to read for research, so that’s good. I just started Andrew Sean Greer’s “Villa Coco,” and I’m having a little trouble getting into it. But I shall persevere!

It’s too hot to spend much time outside this week, so I’m not missing much there. But I also have time to think. (Always a tricky thing for me. Danger, Will Robinson!)

I was thinking about this year, the 250th birthday of our nation. And I couldn’t help but compare it to 1976, the Bicentennial. I was thirteen then. I remember it all vividly. We had block parties galore! Tall ships in New York harbor! Patriotic TV specials and especially—my favorite—Bicentennial Minutes.

Do you remember those?

For the kids, this was back when there were only three important TV networks. CBS was kind of the crown jewel of those three; Walter Cronkite on the CBS Nightly News was the voice and conscience of our nation. (Times, as they say, have changed.)

And on CBS, throughout the evening programming, there were these minute-long educational segments, hosted by various celebrities, talking about what happened on this day 200 years ago. Basically, a day-by-day blow of events that led to the American Revolution, and beyond. To my surprise, my research shows that they began on July 4, 1974, and continued through the end of 1976. I thought they were only on during 1976.

Now, being the history nerd I was even then, I loved them. Although of course, in hindsight, these were white-washed historical tidbits. In the 1970s, history was still being told through a very narrow, gender-and-race specific lens. I guess it still is, though. Sigh.

But you’d have people like Darren McGavin talking about the blockade of the New York Harbor on April 2, 1776.

Or Jessica Tandy, on August 31, 1975, telling how the Boston’s Liberty Tree was cut down.

And at the end of each one, the narrator would close with a version of Walter Cronkite’s famous sign off—“And that’s the way it was.”

There was just such a celebration of our history, back in 1976. That’s what the Bicentennial was, back then—we honored the past. Again, we—regretfully—didn’t talk about our country’s many failings, like genocide and enslavement and a shoddy Civil Rights record. Every country has these failings. We’re not different.

We can still talk about history, can still celebrate the good things while acknowledging the bad. But my point is—in 1976, we looked backward. And inward. We reflected. We celebrated, yes—we celebrated a noble experiment. One that still hasn’t succeeded, but at least in 1976, so soon after Nixon resigned after Watergate but somehow, the country didn’t fall apart and the bad guys didn’t win, we felt that it probably would.

So. 2026. What’s going on?

If you’d asked me back when I was thirteen—and I was such an earnest thirteen-year-old! I remember journaling all my feelings about the Bicentennial, writing everything down for posterity (of course, I have no idea where that journal is now)—I would have said that 2026 would be much the same. Celebrating a country, a past, a shared history, flaws and all.

That is not what I see being celebrated by those in high places today. And that’s all I’ll say about that.

I also don’t feel a celebratory mood in the country at all. Not much unites us right now. Nobody attempted anything like a Bicentennial Minute to try to get us all to look at the past together. Who’s talking about the Founding Fathers and Mothers right now? Who’s remembering the triumph and failure of the Declaration of Independence? For it did fail in many ways, but as a document to create a nation out of an idea, it was pretty darn good. It just failed to declare independence and freedom for every single soul in this nation. And we are still struggling with that.

And I would like us to have conversations about it, as a nation. As we look back on 250 years of this noble experiment. I would like us all to be excited about the tall ships in the harbor and about fireworks and the Boston Pops—remember Arthur Fiedler?—playing patriotic music, and for individuals to put aside their complexes and egos and remember that none of this is about them.

None of it.

But—

That’s not happening. And so we go into this holiday weekend in a very different mood than we were in in 1976. And in so much more ignorance than we were then, too.

All for the lack of a Bicentennial—or actually, Semiquincentennial—Minute.

Eureka!

I have finally decided what I’m going to write next, with the full blessing of my agent, and now I’m going to talk a bit about the process. My process, at least.

I’ve shared that my problem is usually I have too many ideas. My brain comes up with a bazillion book premises—some based on real people, some based on real events, some based on a concise, definitive era of history. I’ve written books that are one or all of the above.

I write them all down in a file. I fall briefly—passionately—in love with some, only to wake up the next morning and realize it was just a one-night stand, not a marriage. Some, I enter into a tentative relationship, hoping it will be long-term, but find out, after having written a bit, that it, too, is not destined for a happy ending. But during that initial period of new love, I’m very besotted.

Lately—this past year or so—all my ideas have ended in a breakup. I believe I’ve hinted at how very difficult this industry is right now. All my ideas from the past year—and some I’ve written quite a bit of—all had some obstacle to success. A few years ago my reputation and the publishing climate would have allowed me to pursue these, regardless. Not today.

So I’d get excited, I’d pitch to my agent, I’d write—and then, eventually, I’d see the obstacles to this succeeding in this very difficult climate. You cannot give readers—or publishers—anything, no matter how tiny, that raises any kind of red flag or doubt or marketing issue. Easy, easy…that’s what we’re supposed to be giving readers right now. The easy yes. The easy read. (I’m not talking about the quality or simplicity of the writing; I will still use my big words and multiple POVs.) I’m talking about the subject matter.

And then I’d go back to my bazillion ideas and try to fall in love again, or go out there looking for a new love. And—rinse, repeat. Obstacles. Always obstacles to a happy ending.

Now, my agent has to be on board. She’s the one who will get me a new contract based on this idea, so she has to be as excited about it as I am. And sometimes she hasn’t been, and that, too, has affected my odds for a long-term relationship.

But reader, today—June 23, 2026—is the day I tied the knot! I found IT, the one, the story I believe only I can tell, the story that is so wonderful that I will happily spend the next couple of years writing, editing, proofreading, marketing, talking about ad nauseum once it’s out.

I learned that when The Aviator’s Wife became so successful. If a book does really well you will be talking about it for years and years to come. I still am talking about that one. You really have to love the book you wrote. You can’t get tired of it. You can’t dislike it even a little bit. You have to want to talk about it until the stars burn out in the sky.

And I have found that story! After our initial “meet cute,” I lived with it a few days, and instead of my interest waning, or worrying, I only grew more in love with it. Strength after strength presented itself, more and more layers became evident, interesting ways to tell it waved their hands. My agent is completely besotted with it, too. Once again, a completely obscure historical tidbit that I bet nobody else knows about, or at least remembers, pushed its way out of my brain and yelled in my ear and I said—

Hot damn. That would make a TERRIFIC novel!

(This exact thing happened with the Swans of Fifth Avenue, btw.)

Reading, my friends. Reading. It’s why I became a writer in the first place. It’s also how I’ve gotten many of my ideas for my novels. Mrs. Tom Thumb—I came across the name of Lavinia Warren Stratton in E.L. Doctor’s novel, Ragtime, and was intrigued. The Aviator’s Wife—I’d read a biography of Lindbergh. The Swans of Fifth Avenue—I read Answered Prayers. Mistress of the Ritz—I read a nonfiction book about the Ritz during World War II. The Girls in the Picture—I read a book about Frances Marion. And now, here I go again.

And there Are. No. Obstacles. Nothing potentially triggering or offensive or a time period that’s not particularly marketable. A huge, famous cast of characters, anchored by a couple of very appealing, winsome young heroines. A dazzling setting. A never-to-be recaptured moment in time. An intersection of time, place and people that few people are aware of, but that had an impact on history as we know it.

And that’s all I can say about it. Historical novelists are very protective of their works in progress, because history is finite. We don’t want competing novels, and that does occasionally happen. (A few novels about Zelda Fitzgerald came out years ago, very close together, for example.)

So that’s all I can say about it. Except—

Congratulate me! I’m in love!!

(And I’m registered at Tiffany’s, in case you were wondering.)

I love this holiday for all the reasons, including its name. I mean, we could have had a federal holiday to celebrate the end of slavery called “Emancipation Proclamation Day” or “Thirteenth Amendment Day.” But no, smart people decided to celebrate Juneteenth. That has a better sound to it, doesn’t it?

So. Back right before the Civil War started and Lincoln was elected president, his main goal was preserving the Union. He didn’t like slavery, he thought it was morally repugnant, and like most of the Republican party (they were the more liberal party in those days), he didn’t want to see it spread to new states and territories. But he wasn’t going to abolish it in the states where it already existed because he respected the Constitution. And the Constitution allowed it in those states.

But the Southern states – soon to be known as the Confederacy—feared that given the contradictions the government was displaying concerning slavery in these new territories the country had acquired in the Louisiana Purchase (see the Missouri Compromise, which basically established the Mason-Dixon line regarding slavery in new territories, and the Kansas-Nebraska Act, which basically negated this), they would be next when it came to the federal government deciding the fate of slavery. So…they seceded to preserve their “Peculiar Institution.”

At first, anyway, Lincoln saw the war as an attack on the Constitution and wanted only to get these states back in the Union. He was a fervent Constitutionalist. And since the Constitution legalized slavery, he wasn’t going to mess with that where it already existed.

But by late 1862, the Union army was struggling. Quick victory seemed a long-lost dream. Morale in the Union was low. Lincoln and the north needed something to turn this into more of a moral fight. Lincoln was persuaded to issue the Emancipation Proclamation, in which he declared that enslaved people were now free in the south. With a few exceptions: Slavery in the border states that were still part of the Union wasn’t abolished. Same with a few areas in Virginia and Louisiana that were under Union control. This was aimed directly at the ten rebellious southern states still fighting hard. It was meant to take the wind out of their sails, unite the north with righteous fervor, and give the Union army something more tangible and moral to fight for.

Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation in January of 1863. Some people ding him for not doing enough to free the slaves with this. But he was instrumental in passing the Thirteenth Amendment that abolished slavery everywhere in the country (anticipating that the Confederate states would soon be defeated and brought back into the fold), and that happened in 1865.

Something else happened in 1865. On June 19^th, to be exact.

Obviously there was no internet in 1865. In many places, no telegraph wires. News traveled slowly then. And it took two and a half years for news of the Emancipation Proclamation to finally reach the part of the state furthest west to which the proclamation applied. And that was Galveston, Texas, now under Union command. It was on this day, June 19^th, 1865, that the proclamation was issued to the public, and the final slaves affected by it were freed.

Of course, by then the Thirteenth Amendment had already passed and was in the process of being ratified, but they didn’t know that.

All the enslaved people within earshot of someone who could read the Emancipation Proclamation, however, finally knew they were free.

Of course, freedom is a relative term. We know the Jim Crow laws that were passed during Reconstruction, the laws that limited the rights of formerly enslaved people and their descendants. Laws that prohibited them from owning property, attending schools, voting. Laws that, unfortunately, still have echoes in many states today, and are encouraged by the current administration.

I love Juneteenth, though, for its inherent hope and optimism and opportunity. I can only wish that more people were less afraid of granting that to ALL citizens and prospective citizens of this country.

Happy Juneteenth!!!!

I thought I’d take some time to talk about what happens after the book is published.

First of all, I kind of hit the wall this past weekend. The combo of my husband’s health stuff plus pub week really flattened me, emotionally. I felt like I simply could not make one more decision or respond to one more email or worry about one more thing. So I spent the weekend mainly watching John Wayne movies. It’s something I do to relax, and I know I’m weird. (I also know John Wayne was a big ol’ racist and I hate that, but I also do enjoy his westerns.)

My husband left the house for the first time in 10 days to trail along with me at an art fair, too. Chicago has so many good art fairs and our favorite is the juried Old Town Art Fair. Over the years we’ve bought some beautiful pieces, although this year we were just looking. (Oh – and we had hellacious storms over the past week here, and I know so many in the Midwest were impacted. I hope everyone is safe, and ready to buckle back up because more are predicted this week.)

I had a couple of book events before I hit the wall, and they were fun! I got to meet Natasha Lester when we appeared together at Blue House Books in Kenosha, WI.

Then I reconnected with some of my old neighbors out at Anderson’s Bookshop in Naperville, IL.

I have another event, with my friend Renée Rosen, at The Book Stall in Winnetka, IL Tuesday, the 16^th. All event details here; I’ll be adding a few more over the summer.

So. After hitting the wall, what’s an author to do?

Worry, eat, worry, eat, worry.

How do we keep our book in the conversation? That’s the million dollar question these days. I try not to live too much in the land of “But it used to be THIS WAY!” but I’m only human.

In the olden days, I would have been on a pretty extensive book tour, usually starting the day after the book is published. But for the most part, authors are not being sent out on the road the way they once were. Of course, there are exceptions. But usually if an author tours these days, it’s mostly on her own dime and I decided to spend my own dime(s) on other things, like advertising. (Although as I said above, I will be adding a few more events in the future.)

The truth is, I’ve never had to spend my own money to promote my books before; I was a fortunate author in so many ways. But I have to now. We all do. The climate is simply so very different than it used to be. And that’s all I’m going to say about it.

So after that initial pub day bounce, the ball, as they say, is in our court, as authors. And we have to keep it bouncing somehow. We promote ads on FB, we keep reaching out to bookstores and libraries, we wave our hands and jump up and down to capture book club and reader attention. (WAVING HANDS – HERE’S A FUN PAGE ALL ABOUT THAT ON MY WEBSITE!)

We feel so responsible for any chance of success, more responsible than ever. Every author I know feels that stress. If I take a day off from social media I fear I’m losing ground. If a day goes by without a new reader review or mention on a blog, I worry about ever getting a contract again.

Eventually, we have to realize that there will always be one more thing to do, and that it’s not humanly possible to do them all. Someone very wise once told me that, and it helps me a lot. Eventually, we have to release our book to its fate and turn our attention back to writing another. Because that is still—despite all of the above—the only thing we can control, and the only thing that matters in terms of having a career.

I’ve shared I have a lot of ideas, and that I’m trying to circle around one or two to hone and polish and eventually, decide to write. But I also think it’s good for me to take some time off from worrying about my career. My husband and I had a lot of worries this past year and sometimes the brain just can’t take anymore.

I also find that it’s precisely when I’m not actively thinking about publishing or writing that I come up with my best ideas. Like yesterday, I was getting ready to go to the art fair when I had a flash of insight about one of these ideas. I was literally thinking about which shoes I should wear when a voice called out to me. Lord, all these voices in my head! If you love or know an author, understand that it’s not just one person you love or know. It’s an entire village, a carnival, a circus.

And it was a really great insight! So I’m going to be very mindful of shutting my brain down for a while, because I could use more of those creative, joyful Eureka! moments. They make me giddy.

They remind me why I wanted to be an author in the first place.

It’s funny; at my event with Natasha Lester someone asked us about our writing routines and we both said that we try to take daily walks where we force ourselves not to think about what we’re writing. And then, that’s when we get the biggest flashes of insight or answers to thorny structural problems.

I haven’t been able to take many walks these last couple of weeks. But that’s what I’m doing right now. I’m typing this and sending it and then putting on my walking shoes and getting in a nice walk before the next round of storms hits Chicago.

I highly recommend that you do, too.

Firstly – and most importantly! – my husband is fine! His procedure went swimmingly, he stayed overnight in the hospital for observation and is now home. And he’s all full of vim and vigor, chirping night and day about how great it is to have this behind him and how great I am and how wonderful my book is and life in general and marveling at how amazing he feels—

That’s when I looked at him and said, “You’re all hopped up on steroids now, aren’t you?” And then he laughed and remembered that he was (prescribed). So maybe a little letdown will happen. Maybe not. But yes, it’s great to have this behind him. Behind us.

Although those two days he was in the hospital were like, boring? Stressful during the procedure but I had five hours to sit around and wait (surgery & recovery), and then after that it was just more sitting around and waiting. Especially when they released him. Waiting for administration. Waiting – almost 2 hours! – to get a lung X-ray before he could go home. (SOP.) Just—waiting.

And in the midst of that waiting, I had a book launch.

So much is at stake with every book. Of course there’s happiness and accomplishment and pride. But the truth is – and it has always been thus – that an author is only as good as her last book’s sales. I mean, in a purely business sense. So the launch of a new book is also the launch of a million fears and hopes and prayers, because I very much would like to get another contract to keep writing books. So anyway – joy and stress. (Kind of like life, right?)

But I really forgot, at times, that I had a new book out because this whole week was completely unlike any pub week I’ve ever had. Then I would remember and panic that I wasn’t doing enough to promote it, then I’d remember my husband and start mothering him, then I’d think to myself, “I really could use a long nap,” and—

Oy vey.

But yesterday I did go out and visit my book in a bookstore! That’s always a golden moment, and Three Avenues Bookstore reached out to tell me they had a lot of copies in and that I’d said I’d stop in to sign them, so I did!

For those wanting signed copies of my book, you can call Three Avenues to purchase one, and they’ll call me in to sign it and then mail it to you!

Tomorrow, too, is a nice—familiar—pub week activity; it’s my first bookstore event! I’m thrilled to go up to Blue House Books in Kenosha, WI (the awesome Renee Rosen volunteered to drive me as I don’t have a car), and I’ll be in conversation with Natasha Lester who also had a new book out this week. I loved The Chateau on Sunset! I’m a sucker for old Hollywood books but this is so much more, a fresh take on Jane Eyre combined with a touching story about sisterhood. Highly recommend!

Here’s a link to my other events; so far it’s mainly Chicagoland, although I’ll be in Nashville, Indiana in July and in southern California for a couple of events with my friend Elizabeth Letts in late September/early October.

And please, if you can talk about my book, ask your library or local bookstore to order it, or recommend it to your book club, I’d really appreciate it!

We’ve also reached out to the winners of the sweatshirts & books, so please check your email (and spam folder) to see if you are one of them! We’ll be doing more stuff like that in the future.

After one book pubs, then you start thinking about the next. Or actually, you usually start thinking about the next immediately after you turn in the latest one. But sometimes circumstances mean that you want to wait to see how your latest does, or see how the winds of publishing are blowing. Or life’s little curveballs complicate your ability to focus. (Ahem.) So while I’ve been playing around with many ideas this past year, it’s time to focus on “the one.” I’m talking with my agent about that, and we’re circling around “the one,” and I’ll be so happy when we do.

Because I’m simply not myself unless I’m writing.

I want to thank everyone for all their support during this very unusual week! And here’s a list of some of the interviews and podcasts I’ve done as well as a link to an article I wrote for Town & Country about the book and its modern parallels:

Off With Their Headlines

Vulgar History

Steve Bertrand on Books

Town & Country

As I said before - Phew!

Have a great weekend, and may you all be as happy as my husband on steroids.

The latest buzzy thing in my world is a recent New York Times article describing how publishers of children’s and young adult books have taken to “modernizing” them upon reissue years or decades later. This involves updating outdated technology, if it’s referenced; removing unfamiliar brand names and replacing them with current ones; even switching out a specific television show reference for TikTok or changing names of celebrities that were popular when a book was published for names of celebrities popular now. Etc., etc. This is all being done, apparently, in that same old fear of making reading too hard for people today. Of dumbing it down.

I know this is all born of desperation. The truth is everyone is selling far fewer books today than they used to (save for a few huge outliers every season), and readership is declining. But I don’t think dumbing everything down is the answer. I really don’t.

I was a precocious child reader. I read books way above my grade level but did enjoy the popular children’s series of the time, back in the 1960s and 1970s. And a lot of these popular series—the Ginnie and Geneva series, Betsy, Tacy & Tib series, the “Shoes” series by Noel Streatfeild, the All-of-a-Kind Family series—were written and/or set in a different time. These books were not modernized for me, a child of lava lamps and mood rings. And you know what?

I loved them.

I didn’t find the unfamiliar references daunting. They weren’t these “barriers” that everyone is talking about. Instead, they were enticing breadcrumbs, leading me to learn more about history and that, in turn, led me to where I am now: A bestselling historical novelist.

I’m worried about everything concerning reading and publishing today. I’m exhausted by so much of it, to tell the truth. I just want to write my books, man!

Mainly, though, I’m deeply worried about this fear that people don’t want to learn anything about the past and that we authors can’t challenge our readers anymore. I don’t know what that means for future generations of both readers and writers, but it can’t mean anything good.

And right now, it means that the books I love to read and write are harder to find and harder to sell.

OK. Enough of my rant! I have this one more chance to put on my marketing/self-promotional hat (a hat I despise and can’t wait to retire!) to remind everyone I have a book coming out on Tuesday!

I promise The Windsor Affair is a layered—but fun!—novel about history that doesn’t dumb it down for you readers. You know all about it by now and it can be preordered here or at your local bookstore. But I want to ask a question:

Are you Team Wallis or Team Elizabeth?

Let me know after you’ve read the book! And I’m just going to point you toward my website where I list upcoming events (and am adding more soon), the fun “World of The Windsor Affair” page with tons of background info, the book club page where you can find out how to ask me to speak with your club and enter for some goodies, including this sweatshirt that just arrived and that I love –

One more thing. Authors need to be marketers and have street teams today. I don’t know what that means, though. I guess you guys are my street team? So if you can talk about the book among your friends and family, on social media if you’re there, and ask your bookstore or library if they have it or if they’d like to do an event with me (and they can contact me through my website), I’d appreciate it. The one certain thing that sells books these days is word of mouth.

The only trouble is, nobody knows exactly how that happens. Except through magical reading elves, I guess.

So be a magical reading elf for me, please! I’d really appreciate it so I get the chance to write more books.

And I promise, I won’t dumb them down.

Before I get to some book recommendations for the weekend, I wanted to let you know about the “Experience the Past” link on my website. I’m kind of proud of this, to be honest. For every one of my books I’ve put together a page dedicated to the history of the book, the people and the culture of the time period. The link for The Windsor Affair is now live! So go on over and dip into some fun history! It’s a good resource for book clubs, as well; it gives more background, more fun things to talk about. And don’t forget to reach out to me if your group chooses any of my books!

The Windsor Affair will be out on June 2^nd, and you can still register for the preorder gift through June 1^st.

OK. Enough of that! Onto the weekend! What are your plans?

After dinner tonight with friends, my husband and I have big plans to do…..nothing much. Except for grilling, reading, and (in my case) watching war movies on TCM. I love war movies! Which is weird because I hate war. But give me a good old fashioned war epic and I’m in heaven. Some of my favorites: Patton (may be one of my top 5 movies), Battleground, The Great Escape, They Were Expendable, The Dirty Dozen.

We’ll be getting our brats to grill from the best butcher shop on the north side of Chicago, Paulina Market. They have so many brats and sausages!

My favorite is the Sheboygan Brat. I’m also making egg salad in case we get tired of meat. I’m sure many G&Ts will be consumed, as well.

And there will be reading!! I’ve shared before how much I love reading big, epic, multi-character books, especially during the summer. So I’ve already started a reread of East of Eden, and I’m about halfway through. After that, I’ve got all the following ready to go:

A good mix, I think, of epic and lighter, more beachy reads. But for me a beachy read still has to have a lot going on beneath the good vibes. Again, I love a multi-character, multi-layered read.

I’d love to know what you’re watching, reading, or grilling this weekend! And wherever you are, I hope you have nice weather! We might make it into the 70s by Sunday here in Chicago –whoopee!!

And she’s right, of course. So now I’m about to sing his praises and also tell you how I was dumped at the altar by someone else before I married my wonderful guy.

So….a hundred and fifty years ago, when I was a young woman, I was engaged to a guy who (trigger alert: we’re going to talk about sex here) wouldn’t have sex with me before marriage. You have to understand I came of age in Indianapolis, Indiana in the 1980s. There is a strong southern influence in parts of the state, starting right around Indianapolis. It’s evident in food, culture, and yes, religion. My grandfather on my dad’s side, for instance, was born in the mountains of Tennessee and brought so much of that culture with him to Indiana. (We have a lot of hillbilly in my family, and I’m not saying that in a negative way.) Anyway, this is just to say that there are very, very conservative Christians in Indiana and unfortunately I fell in love with one who didn’t believe in premarital sex.

So reader, I believe now, in hindsight, I kind of forced him to propose to me in order to have sex.

It was wrong in so many ways, the whole thing, and when he panicked and left town six days before our wedding, while I was heartbroken at the time I have to admit he was right to do so. I mean, it was cowardly the way he did it – left a note for his parents to deliver to me – but the fact that he understood we weren’t made for each other, just in the nick of time, was spot on. I was a bit too wrapped up in the wedding and, well, the longed-for sex, that I didn’t see it then. But boy, I do now!

(OK, we’re through talking about sex.)

I was pretty bruised up emotionally for a while. I had sworn off men. Then I met this guy where I worked. This guy who made me laugh so hard and flirted shamelessly with me and had such self-confidence and that confidence meant that he wasn’t threatened by an, um, strong woman the way my former fiancée definitely was, and almost every guy I’d dated before him was, too.

Plus this guy, according to co-workers, looked at me like he’d never seen a real live woman before, he was that besotted. So reader, I married him.

We had two boys and when I decided to try this writing thing, he supported me 1000%. I’m fortunate in that I was able to devote all my time to writing while he supported us financially. I still rely on that since writers don’t have medical insurance or a pension plan and we have to deduct our own taxes plus fifteen percent of our income for our agents. Even big contracts don’t seem that big, especially when they’re stretched out over many years. So the financial problem of being a writer is real, ever more real right now, and I am forever grateful I didn’t have to work a day job. Frankly, I don’t think I’d have the career I have, if that were true.

But it’s the emotional support he gives me, the unflagging optimism that I wasn’t born with but that he was, the understanding when things are rough, the “Diva Duty,” as we call it, when I’m on deadline, that I value so much more.

Today publishing is different than it was even five years ago. For many reasons, some of which I understand, most authors are no longer being invested in as they once were. My beloved husband has decided he is singlehandedly going to make up for that, and has been working his butt off to reach out to booksellers, librarians, and of course, readers. He’s designed most of the graphics I’m using on social media. He’s come up with all the swag I’ll be giving away now and in the future. He’s put together an exhaustive list of bookstores and libraries to reach out to. He’s been working with my website designer to upgrade my book club page so I can hopefully talk to more of you wonderful readers. He’s been paying for the promoted posts I’ve been doing on Instagram and Facebook. He’s come up with the ideas for the giveaways I’m doing here, and even prompts me to post more often. (I am not the world’s most eager social media user, if I’m being honest.)

In short, he is the outside publicist/social media manager every author needs right now. Plus he’s pretty cute and can grill a mean steak.

And he’s been doing all this while working full time and undergoing treatment for prostate cancer, as I’ve shared before.

Remember when I shared that Evil Insurance debacle of a couple of weeks ago? When we were in pre-op for his final procedure and at the very last minute the insurance wouldn’t approve it? I’m happy to share the procedure is approved. And rescheduled.

I’m not so happy to share that the new date is my pub date of June 2^nd.

It’s going to be a weird day, for sure. I’ll be at the hospital and while I know this isn’t a major procedure and we’ll move on with our lives once it’s done and he’ll be cancer-free, still. You worry about the people you love when they have a bruise, let alone have to go under general anesthesia for a couple of hours.

So June 2^nd is going to be, um—interesting. In the past I would have most likely been on tour or preparing for a big launch at a local bookstore. Even given that these things don’t happen much now in general, it’ll still be weird to be launching my book in a hospital waiting room.

But most importantly, I know this is the last part of a journey we’ve been on for almost a year now and he’s going to be fine and able to be my “assistant” for many more books to come!

I love this guy. He makes me laugh, still. And he still thinks I’m the neatest person he’s ever met.

Ditto.

(Isn’t it funny that when you fall as a kid, you cry a bit then leap up and shrug it off? But when you fall after you turn 60 you envision nursing homes and wheelchairs? The terror is real.)

The swelling on my hand has been a bit of a problem because I’ve had to type like crazy these past few days. I’m busily adding fun content to my website, including the “World of…” section for The Windsor Affair. I have additional content pages for all my books. But here’s the thing. It truly never occurred to me, when I first set up my website (with the wonderful Xuni.com; highly recommend!) that I would be the one who would have to write every word on it. Everything you see there, all the text, has been written by me. Plus I’ve had to get most of the photos. My website designer is great but only I can provide all the content. And I don’t have an assistant.

So everything you read there was written by yours truly. Some of it, with swollen and purple fingers.

One of the best pages on my site is devoted to book clubs, and that’s what I want to talk about now. Did you know that I was kicked out of the only book club I ever joined?

Yep. This was way back before I became a published author. But the author mindset was already there. We were new to the Chicago area and I thought joining a book club at my local Borders (RIP) would be a nice way to meet people. So I signed up and read the book (Louisiana Power and Light, I’ll never forget it). Then I met with everyone on the night of the discussion.

And….I had THOUGHTS. Like I said, I already had a novelist’s mind, and I had many and varied thoughts about the novel’s structure. These thoughts were not welcomed by the rest of the group, who all loved it and just wanted to talk about other things. So, I was not informed of the next meeting of this book club.

Now, in hindsight I realize I kind of overstepped there. I wanted to tear into that thing like this was a grad school creative writing class. In fairness I really didn’t understand what a book club was. Now, I do. I’ve had the pleasure of being a guest at so many and I know now that the social part of it is more important than the book part and I think that’s great! Of course there are clubs that take the discussion part seriously. And diverse opinions are welcome. And it’s wonderful that people get to read books they might not have, otherwise. But the social part—the food and drink and gossip and getting away from the kids—that’s vital, as it should be.

That said—

I do love it when book clubs reach out to me. I’ve learned a lot over the years. I’ve learned not to join right away because everyone needs to say hello and get a drink and chat for a bit. I’ve learned to ask the group to please hold any negative discussion about my book until after I’ve said good-bye because even authors have feelings. I’ve learned that after the pandemic, everybody got really good at Zoom, when before the pandemic it was always a little hit or miss (and it was Skype, not Zoom).

I’ve met with clubs in person when possible—once, I was asked by the host to hide in a closet and pop out, kind of like a girl popping out of a giant cake, and surprise the group.

Once I was given a fistful of cash (weird), but plants or flowers as thanks are always welcome. And once someone yelled at me via email – copying her entire group – when I didn’t respond to her invitation quickly enough, telling me I had gotten a swollen head from all my success and forgotten all the little people. When really, my mother was dying at the time and I simply couldn’t respond.

When this last happened it was in the middle of a period (after The Aviator’s Wife was published) when I was getting so many requests to meet with clubs that I had to put a stop to it all. It got so that about 4 days a week I was meeting with someone, usually right at dinner time, and it really started impacting my life. I couldn’t have dinner, I couldn’t make plans, and I just started to feel like I was never “off,” I was expected to be available to everyone all the time. And then there was the person who yelled at me while my mother was dying.

So I removed the “Want Melanie to meet with your book club?” button from my website, and started saying no. And it was the right thing for me to do at the time.

But I’m back, baby!!

Funny thing, when you start saying no people stop asking you. And maybe they forget about you. But while I know my books are still chosen for book clubs, I haven’t been asked to meet with one in quite a while. And I miss it! I miss talking to so many wonderful readers who have made my career the success that it is. I miss giving back in that way.

So! We’ve put together a fun new page on my website devoted to all you wonderful book clubs out there! There are discussion guides and a cocktail guide, links to those “The World of…” additional content pages, and an easy way to request me to speak to your club.

And there are also giveaways! Every month we’ll send a fun grab bag of swag to one or two clubs who’ve chosen my books. All you have to do is snap a photo of your group with the book – any of my nine titles! – and email it to me at hello@melaniebenjamin.com and you’ll be entered. We’re still working on the swag, but trust me, it’ll be worth it! (We’re also still tweaking the page on the site and I see there’s no mention of this or the cocktail guide yet. But trust me, they’ll be there soon and meanwhile you know how to enter.)

I really hope your club will think of me, and that we can find a time that works for all of us (although I have to say up front that there might be times when I just can’t fit it in. But I’ll try!) I need that connection with my readers now. And I need to show them how much I appreciate them. So please think of me when you’re planning your upcoming schedule!

Just don’t ask me to pop out of a giant cake, OK?

My week has been interesting. I wrote a long tirade on my FB page about this, so I’ll just sum it up quickly – I hate insurance companies. Especially when they decline the coverage of an important medical procedure mere hours before it’s supposed to take place, and your doctor tries his very best to talk to a person to get them to approve it while your husband is already hooked up to an IV, having fasted since midnight and just wanting to get this thing done so he can move on with his life. And they tell your doctor he can’t talk with anyone for hours so you and your husband are sent home (after they remove the IV and give him back his clothes), and you know you have to go through it all again sometime after everything is sorted out. Which, later that day, will get sorted out. And now you have to wait for the doctor & surgeon to find another opening on their calendars.

So.

(Please don’t worry – my husband will be fine, there’s more anger here than fear. I could go on and on about how awful insurance has been during his cancer treatment but I won’t because we’re luckier than so many people, we have resources, he’s not going to die from this.)

Anyhoo.

That, combined with the usual stress of publication has made it necessary—vital—for me to take a day or so to check out of the world and find a happy place

Back when we lived in the suburbs, I was a big gardener. And my happiest of days was always right around Mother’s Day when I could start planting without fear of a hard freeze. I always looked forward to this day! I’d get up early – I’m not an early riser by nature – and jump in the car, drive through a Starbucks and treat myself to some pastry, then drive west to a wonderful garden center (Planter’s Palette, no longer with us), where I’d wander through all the beautiful plants and flowers sipping my coffee, loading up my cart with all sorts of annuals to provide color, and new perennials to experiment with. My mind would just reset, all I thought about were plants and dirt and new garden gloves and what kind of mulch would look best. Then I’d bring home my haul and spend the next couple of days happily digging in dirt, maybe with a radio next to me so I could listen to a Cubs game or WXRT (the best radio station in Chicagoland and yes, kids, these were the days before everyone had an iPhone and a tiny speaker).

Then after everything was all in, I would wake up every morning and just stare out at all the new color and the growing green stalks and leaves and the fresh mulch and it gave me such contentment. Such joy. The entire process did – it was pure bliss.

I need that right now. Very much.

My husband once said something profound. Back when we were in the ‘burbs, even though we had two strapping young teenage boys around the house, my husband never let them mow the lawn. It was a big yard but he wouldn’t let anyone mow it but himself. I used to ask him why, and one day he answered.

“With my kind of work, I never feel like I finish a project. Someone is always moving the goalposts. When I mow the lawn I get to accomplish something. I start it and it gets finished and it looks better than it did before. And I need that sometimes.”

I feel that deeply right now. It seems that in life, and publishing, and probably in everyone’s world in general, the goalposts keep getting moved. When do we get to take a deep breath and say, “There! Everything’s good now! It’s all finished, there’s no more to do?”

So I went to the garden center today. (Gethsemane Gardens, in the Andersonville neighborhood of Chicago.)

I loaded up my cart with beautiful flowers and plants, and I splurged this year. I’ll spend the weekend putting everything in pots and containers.

When I’m done, both of our outdoor spaces will look better than they do right now.

The world is on fire and you can’t even go in for a necessary medical procedure without Big Insurance trying to screw you over, but after this weekend we can sit in either of our two outdoor patios and enjoy pretty flowers and sunshine.

And we’ll feel like we accomplished something. Those goalposts will remain right where they belong.

Nobody’s touching them. Not on my watch.

Because I just realized it’s exactly one month before The Windsor Affair publishes.

This is my ninth historical novel, so it’s not my first time at this particular rodeo! I know the drill; the month before is a nail-biting time. You start to panic that you haven’t done enough to promote the book yourself, you start to panic that certain reviews haven’t come in, or you haven’t made some of the “lists” you’d like to make, or preorders might not be what you want, or…or….or…

What’s different this time around, though, is how very much the publishing landscape has changed in just the last 3-4 years. I won’t bore you with the details (but suffice it to say I’ve had 3-hour long phone calls with some of my writer friends lately as we help each other try to navigate a stark new reality that isn’t friendly to many writers, even those who’ve had some big successes in the not-so-distant past).

But it’s different, that’s for sure. For example – book tours. I’m not going on the traditional tour for this book, because publishers are not sending authors out like they used to. For sure some authors are still toured but the majority of authors these days either put together their own tours on their own dime, or they stay home. And with the rising costs of transportation right now, it’s even tougher.

I am putting together some events – you can always look for info on my webpage, here – and am working on some things later this summer, early fall. And if your local bookstore or library would like me to visit, please have them email me. If I can’t travel in person maybe we can work something out virtually!

Then there’s the social media aspect – am I posting enough? What’s my engagement? Nobody thinks social media actually sells books anymore but given the lack of options out there for book discovery, everyone still tries.

Anyhoo, all this is to say – I have so much to do!!! I have to write content for my website – I have a really cool “The World of…” page for each of my books where I share more of the history and photos about the people and events I’ve written about. I need to put that together for The Windsor Affair. Plus I have to create some content for the preorder gift and the book club kit. I have some interviews I need to respond to and I’m appearing on some podcasts (I’ll be sharing when all these air later on). And I’m in the midst of emailing bookstores and libraries to remind them that I exist! And that maybe they should have my book on their shelves!

I would very much appreciate it if you, my dearest readers, would also ask your local bookstores and libraries to carry the book. That would be a huge help!

The problem these days is there are so many books, many indie authors, lots of AI dreck, as well as traditionally-published books. There are fewer and fewer places that cover or carry books (my friend Elizabeth Letts and I were reminiscing, fondly, about the good old days at Target when our books were regularly featured and chosen for their book clubs. And the good old days of Costco, too. Sigh.)

So the problem is one of discovery, which falls more and more on the author, which makes them look like this when they awaken one month before publication:

Pray for my husband, for these are perilous times.

PS – I just read two amazing books I need to share! First up is Priya Parmar’s firebrand of a novel about Katharine Hepburn, called The Original. It was just out a week ago.

And then I just finished my friend Elizabeth Letts’s new novel, Fallen for France. It’s out in August so preorder now. (We are working on doing some events together when it comes out, so stay tuned!) I loved it and even gave it an endorsement:

“Elizabeth Letts astonishes in this sweeping World War I saga. From the early scenes set in pre-war Morocco, she has given us an evocatively drawn cast of characters, including a pampered Arabian mare, who find themselves hurtled into the center of war-torn France. Paths intersect and destinies are forged and foiled, but love and forgiveness can’t be defeated. Letts depicts, beautifully, the quietly noble moments of a life, and how they triumph even in the midst of battle.”

But I’m not going to start shaking my cane at everything, and I do have a deep desire to, you know, actually sell books and maintain a writing career and if that means I have to offer merch, I’ll consider it.

And to tell the truth merch is fun! (Even though if you say the word “merch” too many times it starts to sound weird.) Especially when you’ve written a fun quote in your new book that just begs to be emblazoned upon a sweatshirt.

In The Windsor Affair (available for preorder now and out on June 2), Queen Mary offers many wonderful side observations about the protagonists Wallis Simpson and Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon. In one passage she describes Elizabeth a bit disparagingly, observing that “She reads too many novels and eats too many chocolates.”

When I was going through the copyedits of the novel, this phrase tickled me. (Yes, sometimes I crack myself up with my own writing.) Because this phrase could definitely describe me and, I suspect, many women I know.

So – voila! Merch!

Merch I’m giving away to nine lucky readers, along with a signed hardcover of The Windsor Affair.

How do I enter to win this fabulous sweatshirt, you might ask?

Well I’ll tell you! It’s easy. First, you have to be a resident of the US. (Sorry, for shipping purposes!) Second, if you subscribe to this newsletter you’re already entered! But if you want to have another chance to win you can restack this particular post (not others, this one) on Substack. And/or you can simply comment on this post on Substack (not via email; it has to be on the Substack site) recommending the last good book you read. (Because I think we’re all always looking for good books!)

To recap: Everyone who’s 18 or older and a resident of the US gets one entry. But you can enter up to two more times (for a maximum of three entries) by doing one or both of the above, restacking or commenting. If you’re not a subscriber (although I encourage you to become one!) you can also have one entry by emailing me at hello@melaniebenjamin.com

Got it? If you’ve subscribed or emailed by May 30^th you’re entered automatically, and we will draw nine random names on June 1^st and then notify the winners. We’ll then put in the orders for the sweatshirts (gotta have the right sizes!), and prizes will be mailed when the order is fulfilled. They are custom sweatshirts, of course!

Now, will these sweatshirts eventually be available for purchase? In other words, will Melanie Benjamin suddenly have merch?

That remains to be seen. So good luck to everyone; legal contest fine print in the first comment below.

(And of course I’m ordering one for myself because I wrote the darn thing, after all.)

Melanie

Indie bookstores have been crucial to my success as an author and I love them all. I included some of my favorites in the Acknowledgments section of THE WINDSOR AFFAIR. In the past I’ve done bookselling stints at stores on this day, and done my own little bookstore crawl, too. This year, however, I’m bushed.

I got home from my fancy trip to NYC last night but it was one of those “Why does Chicago hate me?” experiences. First it took us at least 45 minutes to get a gate after we touched down at O’Hare. (I know tons of people hate O’Hare. I’m not one of them, usually. But I do hate that United, in particular, has kept adding flights to make their investors happy yet there haven’t been enough gates added to accommodate them all. I’m used to the lengthy taxiing times but it used to be, at most, 15-20 minutes on a bad day. Now, the last couple of times I’ve flown it’s been 40+ minutes. Because the gates are all full, all the time.)

Anyhoo. After sitting on the plane for 45 minutes after touchdown, I got my bag - mercifully fast - then waited another 20 minutes for a pre-arranged car service to show up. (We don’t have a car & I’m a pretty pretty princess when I travel. It’s either Uber or a car service to the airport, never public transportation.) Then even though it wasn’t rush hour the traffic was awful & it took another 50 minutes to get back home so that, all total, I didn’t walk inside my house until TWO FREAKIN’ HOURS AFTER LANDING.

So I’m bushed. But I still wanted to remind everyone about tomorrow, and urge you to get out and support your local independent bookstores however you can. It’s a celebration! And in Chicago they’re actually doing a trolley car thingie where you can ride the trolley and visit lots of bookstores, because we are truly blessed. Details here.

I will manage to visit the store closest to me, Slant of Light Books. But I’m not up for a whole day. And if you don’t have a bookstore near you, don’t forget you can order from independent stores at Bookshop.

Back to unpacking and listening to the soundtrack of Operation Mincemeat, which I saw in NYC and is totally charming and awesome in every way.

Happy shopping & reading!

Melanie

And also, is someone who generally thinks she doesn’t belong in any distinguished group.

But my lovely editor, Susanna Porter, invited me to attend the Authors Guild Annual Gala and so I packed my bag and flew to NYC. The Gala is the big fundraiser for the Guild, to which I belong because it is the leading advocate for authors when it comes to publishing and just generally the world. And these are troubling times when it comes to freedom of ideas and theft of proprietary work. (Ahem - book banning and AI). The evening was inspiring - Dr. Carla Hayden, the Librarian of Congress who was fired by the current regime because she is a woman of color, Amy Tan and Percival Everett were the honorees.

After the fancy stuff I played tourist - saw a show (Operation Mincemeat, ridiculously charming), walked tons, took some pics, met with some friends. Now it’s home.

One of the things that I kept hearing at the gala, when people asked me when my next book is out, was “Oh! I’m sorry!” You know why? Because my book The Windsor Affair pubs the same day as the new novels from both Ann Patchett and Maggie O’Farrell, There’s always the fear of not being noticed in the increasingly crowded publishing marketplace. Too many books come out at the same time, and while that includes indie books and AI slop it still means that it’s very hard for readers to find that book you spent years breaking your heart over. And when you have heavy hitters who will get all the very limited publishing news space, it’s even harder.

Now, I’m not a whiny crybaby (well, at least I’m not right now). But all this is to say that preorders are so important to books, because we have to keep reminding our readers that we have a new release, all the time, because come pub day, there will be too much noise about these other books. So I really would appreciate it if you preorder The Windsor Affair and if you do, you’ll get some cool stuff! The Windsor Affair - Preorder now!

Now I have to check out and head to the airport. Tomorrow I’ll be back to being a regular ol’ non-fancy author in her sweatpants.

Which sounds perfect right now!

She was born in her maternal grandparents’ home at 17 Bruton St in London. When I was in London last summer of course I snapped a pic of the address, although the actual building was demolished in 1937. Now, it’s the address of a glam new restaurant called, fittingly, Lilibet’s. (It wasn’t yet open when I was there. Bummer.)

In my upcoming novel, The Windsor Affair, I depict the events leading to her becoming queen—the Abdication Crisis of 1936, when her uncle David, known as King Edward VIII, abdicated the throne to marry the American divorcee Wallis Simpson. The two were hence known as the Duke and Duchess of Windsor, and Elizabeth – who I refer to by her pet name, Lilibet, in my novel – then became the heir apparent to the throne when her father, Bertie, became George VI. Prior to the abdication Lilibet, her sister Margaret and her parents Elizabeth and Bertie, then the Duke and Duchess of York, lived happily out of the spotlight, for the most part. Until she turned ten, Lilibet was just a normal (if privileged) little girl.

The abdication altered history in so many ways. Not just in eventually ushering in the second Elizabethan age (funny, many people expected the then-Queen Elizabeth, Lilibet’s mother, to have another child, hopefully a son. If that had happened, that son would have been king. It was only recently, after William and Kate married, that Queen Elizabeth II changed the succession so females could inherit even if they had younger brothers). History also would have been very different if there had been a King Edward and Queen Wallis on the throne during World War II instead of a King George and Queen Elizabeth (the Queen Mother). And not only because of the Windsors’ now-known Nazi sympathies.

Anyway, it’s all in my book, and so much more! I love history but even more, I love a good old fashioned family drama and what happened in the Royal Family before, during and after the abdication is definitely that!

Fun thing – I made a video where I talk about this book and how it continues themes I’ve written about in previous titles. Please give it a look. I had to put on makeup and brush my hair!!

Click here for video!

I think I look OK? I hate to watch myself and listen to myself! I’m so critical. I generally think I sound like a doofus. And whatever style I might have had in my youth has now firmly settled into “librarian on her way to her retirement dinner at Olive Garden.”

The Windsor Affair is available for preorder now, and we’ve put together a nice little digital goodie bag of extras if you do. Here’s the link to preorder and sign up! (The link includes all online retailers, and you can also preorder from your favorite indie bookstore).

Preorders are very important to books and authors these days. Getting books into readers’ hands is extraordinarily difficult now compared to just a few years ago. As is drumming up excitement pre-pub. One of the few indicators of a book’s potential success is in the number of preorders, and publishers pay very close attention to them. If a book doesn’t get the preorders that were hoped for, precious marketing and publicity money might be taken from that title and used for another. Preorders also help determine print run and sell-in, which, again—encouraging numbers help titles get more behind-the-scenes support from publishers and booksellers, both.

So I would really appreciate it if you could preorder The Windsor Affair in whatever format you prefer—digital, hardcover or audio! I just had a chat with the producer for the audiobook, and got to pick the narrator, and that’s always an exciting moment.

Happy spring and happy Elizabeth IIs birthday—

Melanie