Yes, sometimes it’s hard for me to temper my excitement to share news, like a new book release, with the concern that it may be too soon to share. Oh well. It is my book and my news, after all! The punchline is: I am thrilled to let supporters like you know that Bedazzled Ink will publish my next book early in 2024!

This feels particularly profound today on the eve of the two year anniversary of Mom’s final day. Mom died two years ago tomorrow. She was the one person to whom I read the earliest drafts of My Music Man and Beyond the Ripples, even before they were accepted for publication. She was the first one I told when I received the contract for Humanity’s Grace, but she died before it was released. Mom was the one who offered up vocabulary advice: she had a much better handle on the use of words than I, and her spelling powers shined until close to the end of her life, even with dementia.

At the risk of sharing too much too soon, here’s an excerpt from the preface of From First Breath to Last: A Story About Love, Womanhood and Aging.

Last night I dreamt about my mom. I knew she wasn’t going to be around much longer. She told me she wanted to write one more book; her expression invited my approval. “Yes” I said. “I’d love to help you, Mom.” And here we are.
      Two years before Mom died, I suggested we write a book together. We would share our mother-daughter, aging together, journey; I would write while she offered insights. Soon after I posted a few blogs. When asked, she confirmed her trust in me to write about her.
     While Patty lived her last four months in our home, I began to outline and prewrite the book, less sure as the days passed that I would complete it. The subject felt tired and overwritten: what could I say about our mother-daughter expedition that hadn’t yet been said by others? Mom died and I left those early musings alone for seven months. Recently I began wondering if it might be a future project, but still felt unsure. Until last night’s dream.
     I recently read Peony in Love by Lisa See. As I neared its final pages, I was struck by the synchronicity between its plot with my attempt to make sense of the story I wanted to tell about Mom. Yes, I slowly began to understand. While See weaves stories shared by deceased ancestor wives, why not invite my own mother, who died in 2021, to inform this book?
     My mother was my childhood caregiver, best friend, and later, the loved one I cared for in her final days. Patty was of the “silent generation” growing up during the depression. She struggled with low self-esteem and sometimes felt weighed down by expectation, even though she was top in each of her classes and excelled in most everything she took on. She completed bachelor, master and doctorate degrees and raised me, her only daughter of five children, to be self-confident and self-assured. She followed in what she believed was the expected path for other women like her who were privileged by whiteness, education and middle class income. Until she couldn’t. She broke loose with support from some and criticism by others. She lived a long, full and satisfying life, but died occasionally needing to be reminded about the gifts she gave others during her life, and those she would leave behind.
     From First Breath to Last is a mosaic of memories, events and reflections about Patty Montgomery, our relationship, and insights into the generations and circumstances we were born into that informed the women we became. Patty was unique among her contemporaries. I was born thirty years later and faced expectations and barriers different to both her generation and that of my own daughters born three decades later.
     This book is influenced by hundreds of pages of Patty’s unpublished memoir: her hopes, dreams, wishes, and lessons. Included are Patty’s words directly excerpted from her memoir; a chapter from her 1994 book (Mythmaking: Heal Your Path, Claim Your Future) and sections of her 1986 doctorate dissertation (The Experience of a Critical Event Leading to Dramatic Midlife Career Change for Women.) My words augment hers to illustrate the intersection of our lives. I tried to be honest, authentic and sensitive as I wrote and weaved her selected writing together as if Mom was at my side. I will look to my dreams to know how well I did.

FROM FIRST TO LAST BREATH (PREFACE), BEDAZZLED INK PUBLISHING, 2024

How many dates have been emotionally charged for us forever because of things that have happened in our lives? For me the month of March will never quite be the same. Dad was born on March 2, 1930 and Mom on March 28, 1933. Mom died on March 6, 2021. If my good friends at Bedazzled Ink are tuning in here: perhaps March 2023 might be an appropriate month to launch From First Breath to Last! In the meantime, I look for the last of the snow to melt and those first signs of spring – crocus, daffodil and tulip – and my growing new grandson to remind me of the beauty in living today.

I hope to see you next Saturday, March 11 at the West Linn Public Library’s Read Local Author Fair. Come visit with me and 14 other local authors about our writing processes and our books. I’ll have copies of My Music Man, Beyond the Ripples and Humanity’s Grace on hand to sign and sell. After all, it’s always a good day to go to a favorite library.