Dear Reader

Dear Reader Column 09-29-2020

Dear Reader,

Ian Olasov, today's guest author, is a doctoral candidate in philosophy at the CUNY Graduate Center and the founder of Brooklyn Public Philosophers, a public philosophy event series, in partnership with the Brooklyn Public Library. Since 2016, he has organized a series of Ask a Philosopher booths around New York City. His new book Ask a Philosopher: Answers to Your Most Important and Most Unexpected Questions collects the best questions from the booth, his attempts to answer them, and the funny/affecting/thought-provoking moments that make each booth memorable. Ian lives in Brooklyn with his partner Jen and their two dogs, Scrapple and Gus.

Please welcome Ian Olasov to the book club. Email: ianolasov@gmail.com.

When I was about nine years old, after seeing Terminator 2, I became quietly obsessed with the idea that other people were robots. Here were Tabitha and Crystal sitting at my table in fourth grade, talking (or pretending to talk?) about this or that. But how could I know that they were like me on the inside? Partly I was worried, I guess, that they had metal skeletons like Arnold Schwarzenegger. But the trickier problem was how to tell whether their experiences were like mine. In the movie, Arnold's visual field is a heads up display, as if there were some little person behind his eyes looking at a computer screen. Why couldn't Tabitha and Crystal see like that?

At some point, I figured that if there were a robot factory somewhere, I would have heard about it by now. I moved on to other problems. But I never found a fully satisfactory answer to the real question: how could we know what it's like to be someone else?

When people interview professional philosophers, it's more or less obligatory to ask how they got interested in the subject. But we might just as well ask anyone when they lost their interest in philosophy. Every kid, or every kid with enough time to themselves, has some pet philosophical puzzle; if it's not our knowledge of other minds, it's something about God, life after death, identity over time, the epistemology of unobservable objects--or, a bit later on, what it means to be yourself, what a just world would look like, the objectivity or otherwise of moral and artistic value.

Who knows where these questions go? Do we find more important things to worry about? (More important how?) Do we get bored or frustrated by their intractability? Are they embarrassing? Do they die from a lack of sunlight, in the slippery dark of our private thoughts?

It takes work to bring these questions back to life, or to find new questions that do for us as adults what the old questions did for us as kids. Of course, public discourse in the United States in 2020 isn't always the most fertile environment for philosophy. But there are plenty of philosophical communities out there. Look for meetups, lecture series, podcasts, and public events put on by local university philosophy departments. With a little luck, you'll find a version of philosophy that works for you.

-- Ian Olasov

Drop Ian an note or thought about philosophy: ianolasov@gmail.com. You can also check out the Brooklyn Public Philosophers Facebook page.

* I hope you enjoyed reading today's guest column. If you're one of the winners, or your entry is an honorable mention in this year's Write a DearReader Contest, it will be featured as a guest column. Cash prizes, rules and deadlines, along with last year's winning entries, read all about them here.

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

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

* This month's Penguin Classics book is THE PENGUIN BOOK OF ITALIAN SHORT STORIES, introduced, edited and with selected translations by Jhumpa Lahiri. I have a copy to share, start reading and enter today

Dear Reader Column 09-23-2020

Dear Reader,

First, Second, Third place titles and numerous Honorable Mentions will be awarded in this year's Write a DearReader Contest. Need inspiration? Today's column is penned by Connie Blocher, one of last year's Honorable Mentions from the Write a DearReader Contest. Cash prizes, deadlines, read last year's winning entries...you'll find all the info here.

The Liberation of an Invisible Woman
by Connie Blocher

The card game, bridge, I have learned can be complicated, but it is always enjoyable to play. Despite the bounty of rules, I like playing bridge because of the challenge it presents and because of the friends that I have made. Although I am not young, many of my fellow players are several years my senior and outperform me time and time again. I delight in hearing their life experiences, their humor, and most of all their wisdom. Recently, I heard a bit of that wisdom when I remarked that I would be visiting a tropical island and dreaded stuffing this pudgy body into a bathing suit. One lady chimed in with her simple words of wisdom. "Don't worry," she exclaimed, "no one pays any attention to an older woman, so it matters little what you look like or wear."

"Hmm," I mumbled to myself. "Does this mean women become invisible as they grow older? Are we just a bunch of old wet hens?" I thought about all the time I've wasted dabbing creams and lotions on my face trying to reduce wrinkles and erase age spots. My struggles with trying to squeeze a mass of flab into a Spanx garment to conceal my spare tire came to mind as well. If I am invisible such primping is not necessary and I do not need my dowdy clothes. Ah, a new sense of freedom!

My friend's theory intrigued me and I decided to test it. At a community concert at our local gazebo, I made it a top priority to watch the spectators. While everyone listened as the trumpets and trombones in the brass band blared out Sousa's "Washington Post March", "Anchors Away", and other patriotic numbers, my eyes and one ear were glued to the crowd. Sure enough, when a couple walked by with children, people commented on the cuteness of the children and the attractiveness of the parents. When a good-looking female or an impressive male ambled by, many heads swiveled around to stare. Not so with older ladies. No one looked and no one said anything, but why would they? I conducted this same test on the beach with the same results. Older women really did vanish into the background.

If I told you that this did not disturb me, I would not be stating the truth. Does the world need a revenge of the invisible woman? After much thought, I have finally come to the conclusion that this time of invisibility is the most liberating stage of my life! As an invisible lady, I can do what I want almost any time that I would like. I can don those crazy outfits, I can learn to belly dance, I can soar down the street on a bright yellow bicycle, or I can start tooting on a tuba. Invisibles can do anything that makes them happy! Younger persons may remark that I am just another eccentric older lady, they do not realize that this strange lady is embarking on new adventures. My bucket list is full and I have goals to reach. It is time to take those French lessons. Oui! Oui! On my next trip to Hawaii, I just may take those hula lessons complete with a grass skirt and coconut shells on my bosoms although my husband may object. As for the present, I have much to do. Now, let's see, when can I schedule those French lessons or start blasting away on a tuba?

I'm anxious to read your entry. Get going...start writing...have fun.

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

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

KIDSBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

Perfect for kids who love graphic novels, mysteries or a good laugh: SHERLOCK BONES AND THE NATURAL HISTORY MYSTERY by Renee Treml "will most certainly delight fledgling eagle-eyed detective" (Kirkus). For a chance to win a free copy, to talk with the author, and more, see KIDSBUZZ

* This month's Penguin Classics book is THE PENGUIN BOOK OF ITALIAN SHORT STORIES, introduced, edited and with selected translations by Jhumpa Lahiri. I have a copy to share, start reading and enter today

Dear Reader Column 09-22-2020

Dear Reader,

Today's guest author Lori Benton says her historical novels transport readers to the 18th century, where she brings to life the colonial and early federal periods of American history. Lori's books have received the Christy Award and the Inspy Award, and have been honored as finalists for the ECPA Book of the Year.

Surrounded by mountains, currently those of the Pacific Northwest, when Lori isn't writing, she's likely to be found in wild places behind a camera. Her latest release, Mountain Laurel, centers on 18th century slavery and how different characters respond to its injustice.

Please do say hello to Lori, and when you do, you'll be automatically entered in her book giveaway. She has three copies of Mountain Laurel for three lucky readers. Email Lori.

Welcome to the book club Lori...

Seeing Deeper: Fiction and Photography's Commonalities

Crater Lake National Park is Oregon's only National Park. Since taking up landscape photography, I've found my way to this view often, photographing it in many conditions, yet for years I remained oblivious to the existence of an out-of-the-way sculpture, hidden in the forest behind the visitor center I always skipped in my hurry to reach the lake. Last year I finally turned into that parking lot, saw an intriguing trail sign, and soon found myself contemplating The Lady of the Woods, carved in 1917 by Earl Russell Bush, a medical doctor who attended the road crews that built the earliest rim drive around Crater Lake. It pays to look a little closer!

Rugged coastlines, mountain lakes, snowy peaks, cascading waterfalls--no matter if the setting is new or a favorite spot, when behind a camera I'll wander about observing how light, weather conditions, and how my movement through the terrain changes the scene, thus the potential composition of a photograph. More than once I've wished the scenes I write were three-dimensional landscapes I could move through with such ease. Instead I must mentally circle a novel's scene, seeking the strongest combination of focus, point of view, emotional intensity, and character goals possible before committing myself and getting the first draft down. A scene's first draft is much like the photos I capture, which travel home in my camera to be loaded onto my computer. Only with that first viewing will I know if I captured what I thought I did in the field. Maybe the composition isn't as strong as I thought it was, staring through the camera's viewscreen. It's a good thing photo-editing apps abound.

It's the same with writing. First drafts rarely, if ever, contain all the nuances I intended. I must take a closer look. Have I captured the scene from the best angle? Focused on the most interesting and vital details? Really seen and felt the setting through the character's senses? Like I tweak a photo's visual elements, I fiddle with a scene's structure and details. Here's a few more editing comparisons:

Photography: Crop the photo to strengthen the composition
Writing: Trim excess words that clutter the scene

Photography: Brighten a highlight
Writing: Give some aspect of the scene stronger focus

Photography: Sharpen the texture
Writing: Make a setting vivid with sensory detail

Photography: Increase contrast Writing: Up the drama/tension

Capturing a digital landscape often requires the same dedication and attention needed to create complex characters and a story world for them to inhabit that is as vivid as the one in which we live.

-- Lori Benton

Enter Lori's book giveaway. She has three copies of Mountain Laurel for three lucky readers. Say hello to Lori.

* I hope you enjoyed reading today's guest column. Start writing, because your story could be featured in one of Suzanne's daily columns, if you're a First, Second, Third Place or Honorable Mention winner in this year's Write a DearReader contest. Cash prizes, rules and deadlines, along with last year's winning entries, read all about them at: http://www.dearreader.com/contest2020/index.html

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

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

THE GIRL WITH NO NAME (Mystery) by Lisa Regan

In the small city of Denton, Pennsylvania, an infant has gone missing. Chief of Police Josie Quinn launches a desperate search for the newborn. Then her fiance disappears. The only clue to either of these abductions is a mystery woman who remembers nothing...not even her own name. Josie has her work cut out for her!

Go to: AUTHORBUZZ click on THE GIRL WITH NO NAME to read more and to email author Lisa Regan, you'll get a reply.

* This month's Penguin Classics book is THE PENGUIN BOOK OF ITALIAN SHORT STORIES, introduced, edited and with selected translations by Jhumpa Lahiri. I have a copy to share, start reading and enter today

Dear Reader Column 09-15-2020

Dear Reader,

Please welcome today's guest author Amanda Cox. You can reach her here.

Amanda's debut, The Edge of Belonging, leads readers into the past to discover a tender story of finding family in her stunning dual-timeline novel. A blogger and a curriculum developer for a national nonprofit youth leadership organization keeps her very busy, but her first love is communicating through story. Amanda holds a master's degree in professional counseling. Her studies and her interactions with hurting families over a decade have allowed her to create multidimensional characters that connect emotionally with readers. Amanda lives in Chattanooga, Tennessee, with her husband and their three children.

Climbing Mountains

I almost titled this, "That Time I Ate an Elephant" but I was concerned it would give off a weird first impression. Although, that vivid cliche did come to mind the day of my third wedding anniversary.

Before the days of raising small children, my husband and I loved to go backpacking. For our third anniversary, we skipped town for a few days to take a 3-day loop trail that included hiking to the top of Mount Sterling.

I'm not sure what we were thinking. It was our anniversary. If we were feeling woodsy, why not hike a nice flat trail and camp by some secluded creek for a few days? Alas, we were feeling adventurous.

Day one was a lovely jaunt. We happily walked hand and hand down the wide, flat trail, unbothered by the 25 lb. packs on our backs. The weird thing was, I developed a small blister on the back of each of my heels. Same hiking shoes and socks as I always used.

My husband asked if I wanted to abort mission and hike out in the morning. Pretty silly to miss out on the rest of the hike over two small blisters, right? So in my classic I-Finish-What-I-Start stubbornness, I told him we could continue.

Day two was all uphill. With every stride, my boots rubbed my heels in the same place, in the same way. Before long, the skin on my heels was shredded. Because of the pain in my feet, I altered my normal stride. Muscles my legs didn't even know they had trembled with each step. It was hot. My bag was heavy. The romance was gone, y'all.

My hike became a repeating chant inside my head. "How do I climb this mountain? Take one more step. One more step. One more step." My solitary focus was on making my legs take that one next step.

At one point my husband, trying to encourage me, said that the view at the top would be worth it. I replied that I didn't care about the stupid view and I was never, ever going backpacking again.

It was undeniably beautiful--the panoramic view of The Great Smoky Mountains from the top of an old fire tower just before sunset, but whether in the midst childbirth, writing struggles, discouragements, emotional pain, whatever challenge I face, it's never the mountain-top experience I go back to. It's always that climb.

-- Amanda Cox
Contact Amanda 

* It's time to enter my annual Write a DearReader Contest. You don't need to be a writer to enter. The contest is for writing fun. To read last year's winning entries and information about the rules and deadline, click here.

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

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

THE GIRL WITH NO NAME (Mystery) by Lisa Regan

In the small city of Denton, Pennsylvania, an infant has gone missing. Chief of Police Josie Quinn launches a desperate search for the newborn. Then her fiance disappears. The only clue to either of these abductions is a mystery woman who remembers nothing...not even her own name. Josie has her work cut out for her!

Go to: AUTHORBUZZ click on THE GIRL WITH NO NAME to read more and to email author Lisa Regan, you'll get a reply.

* This month's Penguin Classics book is THE PENGUIN BOOK OF ITALIAN SHORT STORIES, introduced, edited and with selected translations by Jhumpa Lahiri. I have a copy to share, start reading and enter today

Dear Reader Column 09-14-2020

Dear Reader,

On one of my visits to see my mother, in the small town where I grew up, Mom asked me to go to the local market and get some things for dinner. I was in the fruit section deciding which apples to buy when an elderly woman walked up to me and asked, "Are you Virginia and Ernie's girl?"

After I acknowledged that I was, the woman continued, "I remember you fondly because every day in the winter, when you'd walk to school, after you crossed Main Street, as soon as you walked past the garage on the corner, you'd stop and take off your snow pants, and then continue on your walk to school. I lived across the street and every morning, it gave me a good laugh watching you through my kitchen window. I don't think your mother ever found out about the snow pants, did she?"

No, my mother never did. And I hadn't thought about those snowpants in years, until I read Rowland E. Richardson's story, featured as a Honorable Mention winner in last year's Write a DearReader Contest. I hope when you read Rowland's story today, it will remind you of one of your childhood memories that you could write about when you enter this year's Write a DearReader Contest. For more info, click here.

Little Boy Blue

I looked at my reflection and said, "No Mom, I'm not wearing this to school."

The seven year old boy that I saw in the mirror had the same look of stubborn resolve about the suit that Mom made me put on that morning. It was pastel blue with a sky blue vest and a powder blue dress shirt. It was supposed to be for next Easter Sunday church service, and that is not what I was objecting to. God expects you to look your best on the holiday that celebrates the death, burial, and resurrection of His Son. But this was Tuesday, and Mom had the wild idea that I should wear this blue suit to school. She wanted to show the world (or at least my school) how sharp my blue Easter suit was, but I knew better. A seven year old boy going to his second grade class at a Texas public school wearing a pastel blue suit was an invitation to butt-kicking.

I was going to get stomped...hard.

"Don't be silly," Mom said while she adjusted my lapels, "you look dashing. All the other boys will be jealous."

Looking back, I knew that I looked like the world's smallest wedding singer, and the other boys wouldn't be jealous. They would beat the crap out of me for not setting myself on fire.

I started taking the jacket off. "No Mom, I look like a dork. No way!"

She slapped my hands away, and her smile turned into an anger slash. "You will wear this suit to school, mister, or you can walk out of here naked."

Looking into her dark demented eyes, I didn't have the nerve to call her bluff. I stood by the curb, waiting for the bus, and knew that I was doomed because even my best friend Keith took one look at me and said, "Sorry, I'm gonna have to stomp you. That suit is just begging for it."

However, there was a ray of hope in all this. I could prove to my fellow classmates that I may look like a dork, but I can still play hard, and that I wasn't a complete sissy.

Which I did.

Recess was outside, and I did it all. Dodgeball, baseball, tag...I played every one. In the fresh spring grass and in the dirt. Call it revenge, or just a subconscious urge to avoid shame, but long story short...I ruined that suit. When I got home, some workers had dug three foot deep trenches behind our house, which was perfect for a little fantasy warfare.

I was just about to lead my GI Joe Assault Team to victory when Mom came home. She yelled at me to get out of that trench. When she saw the condition of that Easter blue suit as I crawled out of the muck...her screams were incredible.

And I never wore another suit ever again.

Rowland E. Richardson
Honorable Mention, 2019 Write a DearReader Contest

Enter this year's Write a DearReader Contest, click here.

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

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

BLACK FATIGUE: How Racism Erodes the Mind, Body, and Spirit (NonFiction) by Mary-Frances Winters

Three years ago, I released We Can't Talk About that at Work!: How to talk About Race, Religion, Politics and Other Polarizing Topics and the model I present for having Bold, Inclusive Conversations(R) has become a highly sought-after topic. Even more so amidst current social unrest. There is one polarizing topic that is talked about least often and that is race. It is in my new book that I break down the history of race and racism. I dedicate an entire chapter titled "Then is Now," to compare inequitable data from the past to similar data today showing gaps in the progress of the Black community.

Go to: AUTHORBUZZ click on BLACK FATIGUE to read more and to email author Mary-Frances Winters, you'll get a reply.

* This month's Penguin Classics book is THE PENGUIN BOOK OF ITALIAN SHORT STORIES, introduced, edited and with selected translations by Jhumpa Lahiri. I have a copy to share, start reading and enter today

Dear Reader Column 09-10-2020

Dear Reader,

Book club reader Diane, wrote...

"Hi Suzanne, I enjoy reading your column and have been doing so since the early 2000's. Every year I think about entering the Write a DearReader Contest, but I never have. I have a feeling maybe this is the year I actually enter, as I had a dream last night about the contest. Some event (I can't remember the details) was happening in my dream, and I said to myself 'This would make a good story for the DearReader Contest.' I'm taking that as a sign I should get busy writing. I have had some pretty bizarre dreams during this pandemic, but this was a pleasant dream. Thanks for connecting with us every day, you make our days brighter!" -- Diane

I encourage you to start writing. You don't have to be a writer. In fact I designed the contest for people who aren't writers. Simply write for fun. First, Second, Third place and 12 Honorable Mention stories were chosen last year and each was published in my column.

Judi King, one of last year's Honorable Mention winners, was inspired to try and answer the question...What was I thinking?

I said no. I, "Miss Beatle Fan of All Time", said no to Paul McCartney.

I am always amazed at the words that come out of my mouth (and my friends and family will testify to that as well!) but this time took the cake.

Paul McCartney was coming to town for the first time ever, and I was asked by some fellow "Paul Peeps" to arrange a meet and greet for fans coming to the show. I set to work on this project, giving it 110%. I put word out on social media; got a local pub to host us; a local radio station gave freebies to give away; even our state's Parks & Tourism department gave a gift basket and goodies for the fans. We had several out of town folks attend, new friendships were formed, and it was deemed a hit--whew!

Then it was time for us to go to the arena to do "Limo Watch". If you are a die-hard Paul fan, you know when Paul will arrive at the arena and he'll roll his window down, smile and wave, and for about five seconds youarethisclosetoPaulMcCartney, and it's glorious! We get to the arena early, and I introduce myself to Paul's main security guy Brian. We chatted for a bit, and then the most glorious words came rolling out of his mouth: "Would you like to meet Paul?" Would I? Would I? But then, the insecure, fat, awkward 13 year old hidden away deep in my soul explodes out of her inner sanctum and says, and I quote, "No, Paul wouldn't want to meet me. No thank you." Me, who has been a fan for 53 years, me, who has Paul's music seared into the most memorable moments in my life, lets that awkward silly goose run rampant with her mouth and again says, "No thank you."

With an incredulous look, Brian turns away, and I realize with horror that I have done one of the most incredibly insane things in my life--turned away a chance to meet a Beatle and thank him for all the musical gifts he has given us fans over my lifetime. I don't tell this to too many folks, as I get the same incredulous look from them that Paul's security man gave me. After three years, I still can't believe it myself.

So Paul, if you're reading this, thank you. And I promise I won't say no again.

-- Judi King/Honorable Mention, 2019 Write a DearReader Contest

Enter this year's Write a DearReader Contest, click here.

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

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

* This month's Penguin Classics book is THE PENGUIN BOOK OF ITALIAN SHORT STORIES, introduced, edited and with selected translations by Jhumpa Lahiri. I have a copy to share, start reading and enter today

Dear Reader Column 09-01-2020

Dear Reader,

Please welcome today's guest author, Cynthia Ruchti. Her guest column today will encourage you to enter this year's Write a DearReader Contest. For all the info, cash prizes, deadlines, and to read last year's winning entries, click here.

Cynthia is an award-winning author of more than 30 books, both fiction and nonfiction. Her work has been recognized by Readers' Choice, Reviewers' Choice, Retailers' Choice and other industry honors. Her latest release is the novel Afraid of the Light, the story of a clinical psychologist who counsels hoarders and their families. Cynthia and her plot-tweaking husband live in the heart of Wisconsin, not far from their three children and six grandchildren. Her tagline is, "I can't unravel. I'm hemmed in hope."

Cynthia has a copy of Afraid of the Light to give away to one lucky reader. Say hello and when you do, you're entered in the drawing. Email: cynthia.ruchti@gmail.com

Please welcome author Cynthia Ruchti...

When readers ask how much time I spend on research for a novel, my traditional answer is "anywhere from six to nine months." But I've been underestimating. The full truth is that writers are Experience Collectors. Every novel is threaded with a lifetime of curated images and sounds, smells and textures.

The unique combo of artist's dream sunlight and perpetual grape-scented air freshener in Sonoma County, California. The deafening rumble and crash of storm-tossed Atlantic waves. The vastness of an ocean of Iowa cornfields, each stalk making eerie music as its coarse leaves react to the hot summer breeze.

A writer collects emotions and body language. Small talk that seems even smaller at a funeral. Relentless remorse twisting the face of a young mom. The visceral comfort in an embrace.

Mist along a sea wall in Denmark. Sand that swallows footprints on a Florida beach. The aching, echoing call of a loon on a Canadian lake. An incandescent shade of hot pink geraniums in a hanging basket.

A tightly folded lovenote passed between middle schoolers, caught by a frowning teacher. A coffin too incredibly small. An ancient door with chipped paint and layers of fingerprints centuries-thick.

A devastating job loss. The somber way the phone rings when a doctor is calling with test results. The first flash of green after an endless winter.

All research. Writers build a collection of impressions with every breath. The impressions and memories and observations about human behavior dance with each other until they eventually twist themselves into stories that find their way to the pages of books.

How do writers create characters and plot? They borrow from yesterday's trip to the grocery store and from tracing their fingers on the etchings in their ancestors' tombstones. They draw from the sensation when they feel an airplane leave earth's magnetism the first time. And the first look that said, "You are loved."

For a writer, research starts in infancy, when fresh eyes drink in a world unknown until that moment. Life shapes and informs, sheds light, invites shadows, scents the air, wraps in cotton blankets and porcupine pain, soaring gains and a litany of losses. Years later, impressions become words, sentences, paragraphs, a book. Then another and another.

How long does the research take? Every day of a writer's life.

-- Cynthia Ruchti
Email cynthia.ruchti@gmail.com to be entered in the drawing for a copy of her new book, Afraid of the Light.

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

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

KIDSBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

Dear Reader Column 08-24-2020

Dear Reader,

Today's the day! The launch of the 16th Annual Write a DearReader Contest.

Don't start thinking to yourself, 'I'm not a writer.' Because I started the writing contest 16 years ago, for someone exactly like you. Everyone has at least a 650-word story inside of them (the maximum number of words allowed in an entry), and I'd love to read yours.

The Write a DearReader contest is all about writing for fun and you're allowed to collaborate with a friend, or spouse. Two people can work together on an entry. If your entry is chosen as a First Place ($200 cash prize), Second Place ($100), or Third Place ($50) winner, I will donate a 50% matching gift to your local library in your honor. And the winning entries will be featured in my daily column.

So get busy and start writing. Write about your grandmother's favorite recipe, tell me about your favorite or most obnoxious neighbor. What's the one word that would best describe you? What's your wish, but it hasn't come true yet? Write down the conversation you'd have with your cat or dog if they could talk.

Tell me about a perfect first date, or one that made you run the other way. Write about your favorite aunt, a bizarre and whimsical woman who vacuums her living room in the buff. Write about unusual words like 'poppysmic.' When does your passion shine? When do you pull up the covers and hide-out from fear? Serious, funny, embarrassing situations, thoughts about life, fiction, nonfiction, the topics are endless.

Does the thought of writing something that people will read give you the willies? Perfect. There's your topic--write about your fear of writing. But start writing about something, because it's time to enter my 16th Annual Write a DearReader Contest.

To review the guidelines and to read last year's winning entries, click here.

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

Start writing and have fun,

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

DAWSON'S FALL (Fiction) by Roxana Robinson

Captain Frank Dawson was an English journalist; Sarah Morgan, the beautiful daughter of a Baton Rouge judge. After the Civil War they married in Charleston, S. C., where at first they flourished: he as an influential editor, she, writer and mother. Later his views on race were considered too progressive, then his household was fatally disrupted by a sinister neighbor. This is the story of a literary romance, a true crime, racial politics and the real history of my great-grandparents.

Go to: AUTHORBUZZ click on DAWSON'S FALL to read more and to email author Roxana Robinson, you'll get a reply.

KIDSBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

Dear Reader Column 08-21-2020

Dear Reader,

This year's 16th Annual Write a DearReader Contest launches August 24th. You don't need to be a writer to enter. Simply tell me a story. Be sure to read Monday's column for all the information: cash prizes, this year's First, Second and Third Place entries will be featured in my column, deadlines, read last year's winning entries, and find out how your library will win cash, too, if you're one of this year's winners.

Stories are all around you, even in your own backyard. Sit a spell and watch a story unfold in front of you. This is what I discovered in my backyard...

There are some weird things going on in my yard.

Every day a female cardinal admires herself in the driver's side mirror on my car. Paused in mid air, her wings gently fluttering up and down, she turns her head from side to side, then taps on the mirror, ruffles her feathers just a bit, then flies off and returns with a berry in her beak. She gently smashes the berry into the center of the mirror and taps her beak against it. I imagine it's a cardinal's way of putting on her lipstick. Her favorite color seems to be ruby red, from the leftovers I have to clean off of my mirror every day.

A very fastidious dresser, she won't leave the mirror until all of her feathers are smoothed down just so. Periodically a brightly colored male circles around "my girl" giving her the once over. I know she's being courted and she knows it, too. But I think this cardinal, with the ruby red lips, knows she's good looking and that she would be quite a catch. So there's no hurry. For three days now she's been ignoring her suitors and playing hard to get.

Clever girl.

And then there's a fly who thinks he's a spider. I don't understand exactly what the fly is hanging down from, but he's always suspended in the middle of my driveway. The fly is obviously attached to something, but I can't see it and when anyone walks near him, he pops up like a jack-in-the-box and then pops back down to eye level after they've passed by. Whenever I've tried to get real close, so I could figure out the puzzle, the fly who thinks he's a spider, gets irritated, shoots up in the air and disappears completely out of sight for at least an hour. Playing hard to get.

Clever boy.

Yes, indeed, there are some weird things going on in my backyard and I'm one clever and lucky girl, to have discovered them.

* Congratulations to Willie L. the winner of Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life, by Anne Lamott.

And congratulations to the winners of Well, Girl by guest author Jami Amerine: Lori M., Susan B., Marilyn T., Carol M. and Lynne O.

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

Start writing this weekend,

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

Dear Reader Column 08-11-2020

Dear Reader,

Today we have a guest visiting the book club. Please welcome author Ashlee Eiland. Ashlee is giving away a copy of her book, Human(Kind): How Reclaiming Human Worth and Embracing Radical Kindness Will Bring Us Back Together.

To say hello and enter the giveaway, email humankindbook@gmail.com

The Element of Surprise

It was late and I was in my pajamas. My kids were in bed. The house, quiet.

Then a knock came at the door, rappity-rapping in a firm but cute cadence that made you appreciate the effort. It was a young knock. Grown people don't knock like this.

I opened the door to find that a little girl, no more than eight, was standing on my front porch in red and black jammies, barefoot, no parent in sight.

I panicked.

Why is this little girl at my house? Do her parents know she's here? Why isn't she in bed? Why is she wearing flannel in the middle of the summer? Why is she smiling?!

"Oh, hi! Um, I just wanted to let you know that my sister is having a birthday party...tomorrow...and I wanted to invite your kids before I forgot. She's turning 5. It's at 4:00."

And because I couldn't think of one thing we had to do the next day, and because maybe this girls' gumption was enough to throw me off my introverted party-averseness, and because I really really wanted her to be home and in bed: "Sure! We'll be there. Thanks for inviting us." "Ok, we'll see you tomorrow!"

And then from my bay window I watched her sprint, barefoot, down my street, back toward what I hoped was her house. She'd barely even looked both ways crossing another major street. What just happened? The feeling that lingered was like the hum of silence you hear right after a door has been slammed. Something about her surprise invitation stayed with me, even though she was long gone.

In a season that's felt like both silence and so much noise, in recently emerging from a two-year writing process that felt both structured and spontaneous, I now find myself reflecting on how surprises are either most unwelcome, reminding me of how truly out of control and vulnerable I am, or...they're just what I need in that moment.

Maybe we need to be interrupted and found. Perhaps we need to be invited out and into something new: in our neighborhoods, in our writing, in our lives.

Maybe we need to be open to an unexpected knock at our door.

But maybe we're the one knocking--and someone actually answers and says "yes."

(By the way, the party favor was a "choose-your-own" original piece of artwork from an outdoor gallery curated by flannel jams herself. I won't soon forget that.)

Ashlee Eiland

Email, humankindbook@gmail.com say hello, and when you do, you'll be entered in a drawing for a copy of her new book, Human(Kind).

For more information, visit AshleeEiland.com and @ashlee_eiland

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

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

THE NEW CHARDONNAY: The Unlikely Story of How Marijuana Went Mainstream Currency (NonFiction) by Heather Cabot

El Chapo probably never imagined a rival like Beth Stavola. Yet, the glamorous Jersey mom of six managed to build one biggest marijuana empires in the US--legally. In my new title, you will follow Beth and three other improbable entrepreneurs racing to cash in on cannabis. The page turner tells the story of pot's astonishing rebranding from the "evil weed" to the center of a multi-billion dollar boom.

Go to: AUTHORBUZZ click on THE NEW CHARDONNAY to read more and to email author Heather Cabot, you'll get a reply.