Let's talk about our April days
April 2025
Hey there!
Let’s talk about our days…
I spent Saturday in Atlanta for my 50th (!) high school reunion—insane, right? The last time I’d seen the majority of these people was May of 1975 when we were 18 years old with our whole lives ahead of us. And oh, the amazing things we have done—iclimbed mountains, built houses for others, owned a minor league baseball team, designed cookbooks, nursed hundreds of children through a pandemic, grown families, and run races. To my surprise I recognized a lot of the women and almost none of the men. Ha, lack of hair really changes a face!
For the writers out there, tonight at 8 pm ET, via Zoom, instead of being in my pjs watching a show, I’ll be on a panel with two other writers discussing Strategies for Securing a Book Deal. One of the things we will talk about is the scrappiest strategy we used to meet agents and/or publishers. When I read that, I thought I’ve never done anything…well, wait a minute. Registration link.
And for the readers out there who live in or near Columbus, GA, especially the ones who have not yet visited our new indie bookstore Columbus Bound, located between Jarfly (where I love to eat potachos when I’m in town on a Sunday) and Two Sisters Gallery, I’ll be signing books on Saturday May 10th from 11:00 am -1:00 pm. Bring a friend or a kid and come by!
In April I spent another week in Canada—this time one night at the Monastère des Augustines in Quebec City where they have silent breakfasts, and the rest of the time back in the smaller, more northern town I discovered in March when it was all snow and ice. A few of the things I loved this time: meeting more Canadians, breathing cool air in April, speaking more French, the Balsam firs and hemlocks, the way the St. Lawrence River has huge tides because it pours into the Atlantic.
During the pandemic, when Michele Feeney remembered a story her grandmother had told her about the 1918 Spanish flu epidemic, her first novel, Like Family, was born. It’s historical fiction and takes place in Michigan in 1918. Chapter One begins in June, on the first day of seven-year-old Cecilia’s summer break. After she and her mother clean the kitchen, her mother moves the framed photo of her oldest brother, Josef, from the mantle to the table. Then her mother climbs on a stool and takes a flour sack down from “behind the heavy pots on the highest panty shelf.”
Cecilia knew the flour sack did not hold flour. Instead, the sack, weighted with a few rocks from the stream that ran behind the house, and bulked up with dried-out corn husks, was where Mamusia kept her private things–hair ribbons for Cecilia to wear to school, a savings passbook Mamusia took to the bank from time to time, and a packet of sunflower seeds like those they’d planted early last spring… ‘Foolishness,’ Father had said, when he noticed the bright blossoms nodding among the cornstalks. ‘A waste of good money.’
To read more about Michele and her writing, click over to Catching Days. And now for a peek into Michele’s day, which she spent in Phoenix, Arizona at the Sandra Day O’Connor College of Law.
When I was a child growing up on our family farm in Michigan, our barn housed several cats, all nameless. Most looked like the well-worn Velveteen Rabbit, missing eyes or ears or parts of tails, sometimes with patchy fur, and soiled. Unloved. No one knew when the cats arrived or from where; we seemed to be the Goodwill drop-off for unwanted cats throughout the township. The cats swarmed our front porch a couple of times a day in search of food. I recall my mother remarking, eyebrows raised, in response to their bereft appearances, “If you cobbled all those cats together, you’d maybe have one good cat.” This is how I sometimes feel about my writing days: as if one would have to patch together the bits and pieces of a string of days to make one good writing day. [read more]
You are spending your days with new grandchildren, enjoying the new Dylan movie, preparing to start a de-clutter project, struggling through without a loved Labrador Retriever, and at least one of you spent Saturday with me in Atlanta at the reunion.
If you have questions, please ask!
One of you recently did, wondering how I make so much happen. I may have told you the story before, but a long time ago, back when I read weight loss books, one of them suggested we take one small step each day toward what we wanted. The author suggested on Day 1, we drive by a gym.
With this letter, my wish for you, just drive by.
Write me back and let me know how you’re spending your days. And feel free to share this letter with others. Past letters are here.
Happy last days of April and thanks for reading.
Peace out,
--cynthia
Issue #71 April 2025