Dear Reader

Dear Reader Column 05-07-08

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Dear Reader,

My friend becomes a Catholic this Saturday evening. I think it's a wonderful thing. I'm not Catholic, not rooting for any particular religion, no propaganda, no underlying meaning in writing that. Gee have I mentioned all the things to quiet anyone's ruffled feathers? So strange that I had to have a little pros and cons discussion with myself before deciding to use that sentence in my column. But that's what things have come to these days and it's a shame. I'm simply happy for my friend because she's discovered something that's important to her and she followed through on it. I remember when being happy for someone and celebrating with them, didn't need an explanation and clarification.

"It's not the good old days when I walked to school in the snow without shoes, uphill for three miles..." Things have definitely changed. The "good old days" phrase has been rewritten. It has new nouns and verbs..."I remember when I could bake cupcakes for my son on his birthday and he could take them to school and share them as a treat with his classmates." But not any more. The new cupcake commandment is, "Thou shalt only bring cupcakes to school that have been bought at a bakery." I don't really understand the logic in that. I think I'd rather eat a cupcake that I know Billy's mom made, rather than some stranger at a bakery.

I remember when I could go to the bank and the teller would give me a cherry, orange or grape lollipop and the man or woman behind the window knew my name. I can still walk to my bank, it's just down the street, and the teller does say, "Hello Suzanne. How are you today?" and yes, there's a jar filled with an assortment of Dum-Dum Pops sitting on top of the counter, but I have to remove my baseball cap and sunglasses before I can get one. There's a sign on the door informing customers about the new dress code before entering the bank. Which doesn't make any sense to me. The reason the sign is posted is for would-be robbers, and I don't imagine they're going to pay any attention to the sign, do you?

Think I'll just keep on pretending that I don't know any better. Makes me want to be mischievous. Go to the grocery store, buy one of the boxes that the baker puts their 24 cupcakes in and instead put my homemade ones in the box and take it to school.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com 
http://www.DearReader.com

P.S. Congratulations to the winners of the vintage aprons: Anne J. Basile, Nancy Danke, Christa Oldsberg and Dianne Huguet

Dear Reader Column 04-28-08

Join my email book club. Over 350,000 people read 5-minutes a day. To see what books I'm featuring this week, go to: http://www.dearreader.com/

Dear Reader,

One of the things I have to keep in check is that sometimes I think other people should do things my way. My way might be the perfect way for me, but it's not necessarily the right way for somebody else and whenever I need a reminder, I think of my Aunt Florence.

I love my aunt dearly, but most people describe her as an overemotional and dramatic woman because of the way she reacts to things. It's true, drama and my aunt seem to travel hand-in-hand, but most of the time it's not her fault. My aunt knows her limits, but for some reason people don't want to believe her when she tells them, "It would be better if I didn't."

When my father died Aunt Florence announced that she wouldn't be able to handle going to her brother's funeral. Instead, she offered to stay at my parent's house and take care of the children and she said that if someone stopped by to drop off a casserole (like they do in small towns) that she'd be there to greet them. It was a job that someone needed to do and it made her feel good to know that she'd be doing something in honor of her brother.

"But you'll regret it later," the relatives told Aunt Florence. "You have to go to the funeral, it wouldn't be right for you to miss the service."

Florence tried her best to make them understand, but everyone insisted that at least before the casket was closed, she needed to see her brother one last time to say good-bye. So my aunt finally agreed and she did go to the funeral home. But shortly after she arrived my aunt collapsed and they had to call an ambulance.

"Oh, you know Florence," the relatives were commenting, "there she goes again being all emotional." But the truth is they didn't know Florence. She knew the best way for her to honor her brother, but they had their own ideas and refused to listen.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com 
http://www.DearReader.com

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Dear Reader Column 03-25-08

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Dear Reader,

There was a notice in the church bulletin: "Take communion to shut-ins. Classes starting soon."

In the beginning my only mission was to take communion to Amy every Tuesday and I'd bring along a copy of the Sunday church bulletin. Amy had been a member of the church for years so she liked listening to me read the bulletin, because she'd recognize a lot of peoples' names mentioned.

Amy and I made quite a pair--both of us were creative souls, whose body parts weren't cooperating with them at any given moment. Amy had terrible eyesight because of her age, she was 96, and I'd recently been diagnosed with an eye disorder that left me walking with a red and white cane. It was a weird eye disorder, ironically one that usually only affects people Amy's age. But I was only 27 and wasn't able to keep my eyelids open, which might not sound like a big deal, but when your eyelids won't stay open, you bump into walls and walk off of porches.

There was a religious script to follow for communion; same order and words every time, but it wasn't too many Tuesdays before Amy and I were ad-libbing a bit and I don't think the "Big Guy" minded at all. After we finished the communion prayer making sure the "Be Thous" were in their proper places, Amy and I would add our own personal requests: Amy had a doctor's appointment Friday and was worried about getting down the long flight of steps in the back of her apartment. I was a frustrated because I couldn't make a decent pie crust. I realized there were a lot more serious things to be worried about, but baking seemed to be good therapy for me while I was waiting to find out if my red and white cane was going to be a permanent way of life.

"You want to learn how to roll a pie crust?" Amy asked after the "Amen."

So the following Tuesday Amy taught me how to roll a pie crust. It was simple following her step-by-step instructions, or maybe it was because the dough knew better than to argue with a 96-year-old pie crust veteran. After sampling the pies we decided we liked the eating part of our get-togethers, so every Tuesday after communion we started having lunch together. And after I discovered that Amy used to play piano in a swing band, we started making music--she played piano and I sang along. Amy's eyesight was so bad she could barely see the piano keys, but it didn't matter because she'd always played by ear anyway.

A relationship is give-and-take, if it's a good one. Looking in from the outside someone might have thought my relationship with Amy was one-sided, taking communion to a shut-in. It was not. I met a woman who'd led a life that I could only hope for and she was coming down the homestretch with finesse and grace. I'd been visiting Amy for over a year and I could tell that it was getting harder for her to do things. So it wasn't a complete surprise when I got a call from her son, "You should come for your last visit with my mother."

I don't know what other people were thinking as they were sitting in the pew at Amy's funeral, but I could see her playing the piano in the swing band, baking and serving meals to be remembered by her family and I could see Amy down on her knees in the pew, hands folded, thanking the Lord for one heck of a special life. And I was fortunate to be part of it.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Warm regards,
Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com 
http://www.DearReader.com

P.S. Author Barbara Bretton reads along with us every day at the book club. Sample her book Just Desserts and enter the free book giveaway. Go to: http://tinyurl.com/24xt48

READ THE CLASSICS: The Outsiders by S. E. Hinton and enter the free Penguin Classic's Drawing. Go to: http://tinyurl.com/3a2qs2

Dear Reader Column 02-15-08

Join my email book club. Over 350,000 people read 5-minutes a day. To see what books I'm featuring this week, go to: http://www.dearreader.com/

Dear Reader,

Remember, if a book isn't a good match for you, hit the delete key. This is a guilt-free book club. Every Monday I feature a new book. I love to hear from readers, I really do. Don't ever worry that you're cluttering up my mailbox. Reading emails from readers is the best part of my job.

If you haven't entered this month's Chocolate Chip Cookie Giveaway yet, I'm ready to bake. Go to: http://tinyurl.com/ywyuz9

From my Email Bag:

*If you missed this column, you'll find it at:
http://tinyurl.com/2ta6eu

"Suzanne, your column today is one of the best for me. What resonates with me is that I behave like your husband--I try to pass the phone to my wife as soon as I can, to avoid saying anything I am not comfortable with. Most calls are for her anyway--frequently, I just hand over the cordless phone before saying anything. The second part about what to say to church people's calls and then have second thoughts about the consequence is hilarious. You are a generous person, in sharing your thoughts. Thanks very much."--Joe T.

"Suzanne, You are too funny!! I must admit I cracked up laughing hysterically after I read today's article. Maybe you should write a comedy book! Thanks for making me laugh today."--Mary K.

"Dear Suzanne, at my house, the phrase if I am in the bath or going potty is--'She is indisposed at the moment. If I can take a message, she will call you back. If you don't want to leave a message, can you call back in an hour?' Perhaps you could type this out for your husband? I had our pictures taken for the church directory. For those families who didn't want to participate, their names were included in the back. I had the same thoughts as you! What did they do that was so bad they didn't want pictures? Were they expelled from church that month? Were they caught smoking out back? Makes one wonder!"--
Donna T.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com 
http://www.DearReader.com

Dear Reader Column 02-12-08

Join my email book club. Over 330,000 people read 5-minutes a day. To see what books I'm featuring this week, go to: http://www.dearreader.com/

Dear Reader,

I was in the tub the other day, the telephone rang and the next thing I knew my husband was handing the phone to me. "Who is it?" I whispered.

My husband shook his head and mouthed, "I don't know." My dear husband is very uncomfortable lying to people, so he gets flustered when the phone rings and the caller asks for me. What's he to say? "Suzanne can't come to the phone, she's in the tub," or "Suzanne told me to tell anyone who calls that she's not here." The phone becomes a game of Hot Potato, my husband quickly handing it off and hoping it doesn't circle back around to him.

The woman on the other end of the line said, "Hello this is Christine and I'm calling from the church. I'd like to know if you want to get your picture taken for the directory."

"No. Thank you very kindly, but I'll pass," I told her.

"Well, are you still a member?" she asked.

"Yes, I am."

"It doesn't cost anything to get your picture taken."

"I appreciate that, but I would really rather not. My life is kind of complicated right now."

"Well, okay, thanks anyway. Good bye."

After I hung up the phone my first thought was, 'What have things come to? Why did I say that? I wonder what that woman is thinking now.' If I asked someone to do something and they told me, "No thank you, my life is kind of complicated right now," I would assume something awful--somebody died, someone was ill, or they were in the early stages of a nervous breakdown. But everything's A-okay in my life, so what's up? But before I could further analyze my mysterious reply, another thought popped into my head, one that was even more disturbing.

I started thinking about my old high school yearbook, and now I'm worried about what they'll print in the church directory. I can't remember exactly what the yearbook staff said the year Danny Coohn's picture was missing, but it went something like: "Danny's picture isn't here because he was expelled from school for two weeks, so he couldn't come on school grounds to get his picture taken."

Oh no! I can see it now, "Suzanne Beecher is not listed in this year's church directory because she was taking a bath when we called, and she told us her life was too complicated. We're all praying that her bath is successful and that her life uncomplicates very soon."

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com
http://www.DearReader.com

P.S. Congratulations to the winners of last week's Valentine giveaway--we're hoping to get photos from them soon: Anne Sullivan-Reed, Lyndell Koslasky, Rhonda Wilson, Harry Davis, Don & Elaine Carlson and Geri Lombardo.

Dear Reader Column 09-24-07

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Dear Reader,

I'm on vacation and some of my friends have offered to fill in for me. Today's column is written by author Joel ben Izzy.

About three years ago I decided I wanted to become a better storyteller, so I went to one of the masters, my friend, Joel ben Izzy. And he was kind enough to literally "school" me over the phone, "Storytelling 101." Joel's book The Beggar King and the Secret of Happiness has a permanent home on my bookshelf. It's a true story. If you haven't read it, I highly recommend it and it just came out in audio, too.

Thanks for helping me out today, Joel.--Suzanne Beecher

Dear Reader,

Although I do not know you, we are connected, as you read this, by a string of words. As a teller of tales, I believe this is what stories can do--connect people by threads which, while gossamer-fine, reach past geographical frontiers, stretch beyond boundaries of time and even cross the barrier between life and death.

Searching for these connections is part of what we do here on earth. I was reminded of this years ago when I traveled through France, where I met an older man by the name of Leo, who lived in Dunkirk. He was kind enough to host me in his cabin on the rocky shore, and while a cold, foggy wind blew outside, we spent a pleasant evening before his fire, sharing food and trading stories.

As the evening drew to a close, I asked him how I was to wake in the morning, as I had an early train to catch.

"Ah!" he said, his eyes lighting up. "One more story..." he said. He told me of the night, just after World War II, that he had arrived in New York very late, with a flight back to Paris early the next morning. He had use of an apartment in New York but, as he explained to the cab driver, no way to wake up early.

"Which apartment?" asked the driver as they arrived at the building. Leo pointed to a window several floors up.

"And when do you have to wake up?"

"At five," said Leo. "or I'll miss my flight."

"Hmmmm," said the cab driver. "Here's what you do." He reached into the glove compartment, producing a roll of kite string. "Just before you go to bed, tie one end of this string around your big toe. Then, put the other end out of the window, reaching almost down to the street."

"But why?"

"Well, five o'clock is when I get off work, and I pass right by here. I'll pull on the string and you'll wake up."

"Well," said Leo, "I was surprised then as you are now. But that is exactly what happened."

And that is my hope for you, dear reader, as you read or listen to a snippet of prose today--that you find a connection you did not know you had.

(I hope you're enjoying your vacation, Suzanne.)

Joel ben Izzy

If you'd like to contact Joel, send your email to: suzanne@Emailbookclub.com and I'll see that he gets it. Joel's website is at: http://www.storypage.com/

AUTHORBUZZ: Win signed copies of books you'll read and never forget from these terrific authors: Erica Spindler, Last Known Victim; Tom Grace, The Secret Cardinal; Nancy Bush, Ultraviolet; Debbie Macomber, Where Angels Go; and Derek Armstrong, The Last Troubadour. Go to: http://authorbuzz.com/dearreader

READ THE CLASSICS: The Winter of Our Discontent by John Steinbeck and enter the free Penguin Classic's Drawing. Go to: http://tinyurl.com/25vbsy

Dear Reader Column 09-14-07

Join my email book club. Over 330,000 people read 5-minutes a day. To see what books I'm featuring this week, go to: http://www.dearreader.com/

Dear Reader,

I'm on vacation and author M.J. Rose is filling in for me today. I usually don't have a problem writing from the heart and expressing my feelings, but writing an introduction for M.J. Rose is a tough assignment. M.J. has become a close friend, someone I feel very at ease with--no need to pretend around her. Good friends are hard to find and I feel very lucky to have found her.

Her latest book, The Reincarnationist was just released last week. In fact I flew to New York for her book signing and party. Library Journal gave her book a starred review and so did Publishers Weekly: "Tale of intrigue that's more believably plotted and better meets its ambitions than Dan Brown's ubiquitous book." You can sample The Reincarnationist right now, go to: http://tinyurl.com/39x6az And you can see a couple of photos from M.J.'s book signing and party. It was fabulous!

M.J. Rose loves to hear from readers and she has two signed copies of her book, along with Starbucks cards to give away. (The Starbucks cards were my idea--you know how I love my coffee!) Be sure to write. She answers all of her mail. You can reach her at: mjroseAuthor@aol.com

Thanks M.J. for helping me out while I'm on vacation.--Suzanne Beecher

Dear Readers,

One day, about seven years ago, I waited in a restaurant for my lunch date to show up. I wasn't expecting much--just another business lunch. I'd never met the woman who was meeting me before and didn't know much about her other than the basics I'd gleaned from interviewing her for my column at Wired.com.

A few minutes later, I noticed a lovely woman standing in the entranceway to the restaurant. Blonde and petite, she was wearing a black jacket and black pants. In New York City most of us dress like we're on our way to a funeral all the time, so her outfit fit right in. But something about her was out of time. And that was the part that was familiar to me. Now, thinking back, I don't remember what it was. But I do remember the sensation of confusion.

I'd never met this woman before but I'd once known her. I was sure of it.

How was that possible?

When the maitre d' showed her to my table I was even more surprised to discover that the woman I thought I'd once known was the woman I was having lunch with.

How was that possible?

The dictionary defines deja vu as the illusion of having previously experienced something actually being encountered for the first time.

And while I believe that phenomena exists, I don't think it's the only explanation for that feeling of going to a new place and being sure that you've been there before, or meeting someone for the first time and being certain you already know them.

That instant simpatico, that can happen when you meet someone new can either be luck, or a fluke, or it might be something else.

Over 26 million people in America admit to believing in reincarnation which explains those moments of instant recognition with strangers as something quite different than illusions.

I've been researching the subject for most of my life. Going in depth for the last few years. I've read over 60 books about reincarnation. Keep a blog about it. (Reincarnationist.org).

My mom, who was a very sane woman believed in past lives, as did her grandfather who was a Jewish immigrant from Russia. In fact the two of them were sure that I was in fact reincarnated and had known my own great grandfather in a previous life. Pretty woo-woo stuff for a girl from New York City who worked in advertising for 15 years and lives in Connecticut with a wonderful musician and a very cute dog.

But it's what I believe. And that's how I explain why a few years ago that day in the restaurant, when I first met Suzanne Beecher, the owner and founder of DearReader.com I was sure I'd met her before.

But how? Who had we been? What century had we lived in? Was she always reading and baking chocolate chip cookies? Was I always writing?

Close your eyes and imagine who Suzanne Beecher was before. Then write me at mjroseAuthor@aol.com and tell me. Two people will be chosen at random to receive signed copies of my new novel, The Reincarnationist as well as Starbucks gift cards.

Maybe you knew us both before, too!

M.J. Rose

You can reach author M.J. Rose at: mjroseAuthor@aol.com Her website: http://www.mjrose.com/content/index.asp

Dear Reader Column 09-10-07

Join my email book club. Over 330,000 people read 5-minutes a day. To see what books I'm featuring this week, go to: http://www.dearreader.com/

Dear Reader,

I'm on vacation for two weeks. My husband and I are wandering around the Smoky Mountains again this year. If you see us, be sure to say hello. Some of my friends have graciously offered to fill-in for me while I'm gone.

Today's column is written by William Duncan. (I call him Bill.) Bill is a gardener, loves my hot 'n sour soup, and he's an old fashioned guy who still sends letters with a post mark on them. But most of all, Bill is a very good friend and mentor--what would I do without him?

Be sure to send an email and say hello to Bill. Here's his address: semperfi@douglasfast.net. He'll write you back.--Suzanne Beecher

Dear Reader,

Suzanne calls me her mentor, but I can't tell you how many times I have instructed her to write columns in advance of her vacation because her readers want to read her sharing, not some old retired newspaper editor who will keep on plugging until God hits him in the head with a baseball bat. He has already taken a few swings at me -- two wars as a Marine, terminal cancer 27 years ago, two heart attacks, two broken ankles and more time spent in the Valley of the Shadow of Death than I wish to remember. But here I am for the third year in a row filling in for Suzanne who is somewhere enjoying life instead of pounding a keyboard.

If you are a long time reader of Suzanne's DearReader.com on-line book clubs, you already know that this guest columnist is a biblioholic. I suffer from what Tom Raabe described in his book, "Biblioholism: The Literary Addiction."

Proof of that affliction is I am the token male member of the Sunday Afternoon Book Club here in Roseburg, Oregon. It wasn't always that way, but statistically males die off sooner than females and here I am the sole surviving member of my gender in the book club. All this simply means I have read a lot of chick books just to be knowledgeable in the book discussion. When my choice last year was Debbie Macomber's Christmas book, Libby Smolensky, one of the members, who is president of the Douglas County Friends of the Library, thought that I was a converted romance reader. Not so, but Debbie did write a funny story and I don't think she fits the romance genre.

By the same token, when a Tony Hillerman book was my choice, Libby moaned about how she disliked Hillerman's macho style. She didn't show up on the Sunday the club discussed the Hillerman book. The purpose of a book club is to get members to read books they might never read and proof of that is I probably would never have considered Sue Monk Kidd's The Secret Life of Bees had I not been the token male in the Sunday Afternoon Book Club. She is now one of my favorite authors and if you have not read her latest book, First Light, about her early inspirational writings, by all means do so. Suzanne's readers may not know this, but she will soon have a book published of her "inspirational" writings that will also include some of her famous recipes. That is one chick book I intend to share with the girls at the Sunday Afternoon Book Club.

William Duncan

*William J. Duncan is a retired California newspaper editor who now lives in Roseburg, Oregon where he writes a weekly syndicated column, writes book reviews and edits a monthly newspaper magazine, The Senior Times. He loves to talk to readers. You can reach William at semperfi@douglasfast.net.

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Dear Reader Column 09-04-07

Join my email book club. Over 330,000 people read 5-minutes a day. To see what books I'm featuring this week, go to: http://www.dearreader.com/

Dear Reader,

My job is pretty much a 24/7 kind of thing, but along with that comes the freedom to come and go as I please, and work when I please. If the work gets done and I do a good job, that's all that matters.

There were only two jobs that I ever had where I was supposed to punch a time clock. One of them was when I was 20 and I worked the third shift in a factory. I ground lenses for safety glasses. I punched in at 11 p.m. and punched out at 8 a.m.

Everyone had a quota to fill and I always finished mine two hours before anyone else, so I would just sit and read or do whatever. I wouldn't have minded continuing to work, but my supervisor said that it would set a bad example and politely ordered me not to do so. It never made any sense to me; after all, I was being paid to work, but that factory was a very strange place and there wasn't a whole lot of common sense going around. Employees did their work in the midst of a soap opera atmosphere, and every night there was a different story line.

It wasn't unusual for the night manager to get in his car and pick someone up for work, or more truthfully, to go and beg someone to come to work so he wouldn't have to fire them. He refereed marital arguments and went looking for an employee's kid who was out in the wee hours. And he was an early version of Amscot--employees would write him a personal check, he'd give them cash and not cash their check until payday.

Everyone got two breaks during the night and even though it was 3 in the morning no one thought about sleep. For two weeks during coffee breaks, everyone debated the authenticity of the picture that Marie took on her vacation. She held up a picture of a waterfall in the woods and pointed to the outline of Jesus in the background. Was it really Jesus? It didn't matter; it was 3 o'clock in the morning.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Gratefully,
Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com 
http://www.DearReader.com

P.S. Cows, a hat, bubble machines, lanterns, cookie droppers (just like the one I use) and book bags--all waiting for lucky readers. Enter the Leftover Giveaway. Go to: http://tinyurl.com/2n4fw2

READ THE CLASSICS: In Patagonia by Bruce Chatwin and enter the free Penguin Classic's Drawing. Go to: http://tinyurl.com/2ory4c

Dear Reader Column 07-18-07

Join my email book club. Over 330,000 people read 5-minutes a day. To see what books I'm featuring this week, go to: http://www.dearreader.com/

Dear Reader,

Dark suit, white shirt, dark tie, and a book and pamphlets tucked underneath his arm. I knew right away who he was, and what he wanted the minute I spotted the "tools" of his trade. So after he delivered his opening line, I butted in and suggested we just cut right to the chase.

I explained that normally, he'd want to show me 'the way' and then I'd try to tell him that I was already taken care of in that department, but nevertheless, he'd still keep right on talking, because he doesn't like "my way" and eventually I'd politely shut the door in the middle of his sentence.

"So here's the thing," I told him, "my writing muse is on vacation and it's been kind of tough going today. You see, when I get to a certain point in a column, I usually call my writing muse and she listens to me talk. And since I'm without someone to listen to me today, and you're here, and you want to talk and hang around my front porch anyway, how about if you listen to me talk about my column and then it will be your turn to talk, and I'll listen. Have we got a deal?"

And before he could really realize what he'd agreed to, I pulled up a lawn chair and told him to sit down and put his feet up."Do you want a glass of lemonade? I think we might be here awhile. I can't quite decide on a lead."

Line by line, I delivered my column and he even laughed in the places I was hoping for at least a giggle. But when I got near the end and I was starting to stumble, because I still needed to do some rewriting, he was getting impatient. He looked down at his watch and when I heard him clear his throat, I was afraid that "persuader" man was going to try to slide-in one of his "this is the way" lines. So I just kept right on going at the end of my sentence, rolling right over the period, not even stopping to take a breath--then I slid right into the next sentence and when my substitute muse's attention started to wane even more--I reminded him that we had an agreement.

"Doesn't it say something in that 'persuasion' book you're totin' about keeping your side of a bargain?"

I give him credit, "persuader" man sat back down and he was a pretty good listener--didn't have too many creative suggestions, but then again that wasn't part of our deal. And soon it was his turn. But by then, the sweat was running down his face, (it was 98 degrees even in the shade) and in all fairness, he probably forgot his lines because I'd interrupted his usual presentation flow.

"Not to worry," I told him. "My muse takes two vacations a year, give me your card and the next time she leaves town, I'll call you."

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com
http://www.DearReader.com

READ THE CLASSICS: Fifth Business by Robertson Davies and enter the free Penguin Classic's Drawing. Go to: http://tinyurl.com/3x9eam