New Books!!!

I'm a great fan of picture book biographies and especially those of artists. So the moment I learned about this book's existence, I knew I wanted to have it. My publisher kindly sent me a review copy and what a joy it's been to read Painting the Light: The Story of Berthe Morisot, First Woman Impressionist. What struck me was Berthe's determination to paint not just as prescribed at the time but to paint the light--dappled and shadowed, all the colors. She joined the men who were also painting their impressions and eventually, even though the establishment scoffed at these rebels, she was able to show her work showing the lives of women. This is story of perseverance and following your dreams. Even the end papers will delight you! 

I discovered Lucy in Between because the author, Sarah Callender, is a regular contributor on Writer Unboxed and I've been following her writing journey for many years. And what a debut! Isn't that cover gorgeous? It captures 13-year-old Lucy's voice perfectly, without which this would have been a very, very sad book. Not only does her older brother Henry take his own life, her father is absent, and her mother seems  more interested in Henry than in her. Thankfully, there is a male best friend and a father figure that comes on the horizon when they are in Peru. I wanted to understand Henry so much more, why he committed suicide, but it really is an unanswerable question (thanks to Pablo Neruda). I found the juxtaposition of silence and sound beautiful--yet both Lucy (mime-artist) and Henry (virtuoso violinist), long for a real connection with their parents. 

Lucy touched me deeply because I, too, grew up without a father, and questioned why his work was more important than us kids (another unanswerable question), and have lost a brother (though in a different way), and even though it's been years, I was surprised to find myself grieving over my losses. So just a word of warning to parents--this is appropriate for teens *after* they've had a good long time to process their own grief. Thanks to NetGalley for a review copy.

I have enjoyed Barbara O'Neal's books very much but when I discovered (again on Writer Unboxed) that her latest was a historical fiction that sweeps through India and England through the first half of the 20th century, I knew I was in for an epic tale of love and loss amidst the wars. I'm in the middle of A Thousand Painted Hours and am enjoying it immensely. Much of the story is told through letters and I especially loved recounting "One small beauty." Such a beautiful reminder that even in the most desolate times, there is beauty. There are so many children of the British who grew up in India and have a great love for the country and its people, only to be shipped back to England for a proper training to be a proper English person, but who never forget the land that gave them unforgettable sights, sounds, and loves. O'Neal captures it so well I think it might be her best book yet! And the cover!!! So beautiful. Given the frequent epistles, it would've been so lovely if there had been some interior art, given that Elsie is an artist and sends little pictures with her letters, along with a sentence in the urdu script, since that's what's allowed them some privacy. Thanks to NetGalley for a review copy.

Friends, I share a lot of good books. It's impossible to buy all the books we want, but I urge you to ask for new books at your local library. 

Wedding Anniversary: the Decade Prior

I dusted off an old album and it was so much fun remembering the decade before we got married. That summer romance 42 years ago has blossomed and borne much fruit after our marriage of 32 years.  It's still unbelievable to me that I fell in love with a punk. My mother did not approve, and with good reason. I was very innocent. But Michael won her over by coming over for many meals at home that my mother prepared--he'd never before had food with such interesting flavors and he loved it. And she enjoyed the musical evenings. 

When Michael left for California, I was sure our romance would end, but somehow, despite our selfishness, over the years, our letters and quarterly visits kept us close, and our love grew. Michael introduced me to rock music (he serenaded me too), taught me how to camp (I always thought it funny that Americans wanted to try poverty for fun), and ski (I thought hurtling down a snowy mountain insane, yet I loved it), and fish (what a practical thing to know, except on some of our trips, we failed to catch fish and had to eat canned beans and potatoes). I loved all the adventures we had together.

Getting married and having children has been the grandest adventure. Thank you, Michael, for making me your wife and the mother of your children.

But the most magnificent adventure is the one we're on--following Jesus! So grateful we get to do this together. Deo gratias! 

Prose Poem by St. Ephrem

Orthodox Icons c. 1300
Annunciation, Nativity, Christ's Baptism, Transfiguration

I have been pondering the Incarnation--the greatest event in all history--but the words of Christ Himself (John 14:15-28) gave me pause: If you love me, you will keep my commandments.... Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid...If you loved me, you would rejoice that I am going to the Father; for the Father is greater than I. But wait--aren't they coequal with the Holy Ghost? And this prose poem on the Transfiguration by St. Ephrem the Syrian came on my radar... It is so beautiful and I understood suddenly that in His humanity, our Lord really became somewhat lesser, even though He's fully human, fully divine. Such a paradox. He was entirely dependent as a child. He could've come down from the Cross, but He didn't. He chose to empty Himself completely for our salvation. I'm no theologian, so take my thoughts with a box of salt and please just enjoy this glorious meditation on our Lord.

“The facts themselves bear witness and His divine acts of power teach those who doubt that He is true God, and His sufferings show that He is true man. And if those who are feeble in understanding are not fully assured, they will pay the penalty on His dread day.

If He were not flesh, why was Mary introduced at all?
And if He were not God, whom was Gabriel calling Lord?

If He were not flesh, who was lying in the manger?
And if He were not God, whom did the Angels come down and glorify?

If He were not flesh, who was wrapped in swaddling clothes?
And if He were not God, whom did the shepherds worship?

If He were not flesh, whom did Joseph circumcise?
And if He were not God, in whose honor did the star speed through the heavens?

If He were not flesh, whom did Mary suckle?
And if He were not God, to whom did the Magi offer gifts?

If He were not flesh, whom did Simeon carry in his arms?
And if He were not God, to whom did he say, “Let me depart in peace”?

If He were not flesh, whom did Joseph take and flee into Egypt?
And if He were not God, in whom were words “Out of Egypt I have called My Son” fulfilled?

If He were not flesh, whom did John baptize?
And if He were not God, to whom did the Father from heaven say, “This is My beloved Son, in Whom I am well-pleased”?

If He were not flesh, who fasted and hungered in the desert?
And if He were not God, whom did the Angels come down and serve?

If He were not flesh, who was invited to the wedding in Cana of Galilee?
And if He were not God, who turned the water into wine?

If He were not flesh, in whose hands were the loaves?
And if He were not God, who satisfied crowds and thousands in the desert, not counting women and children, from five loaves and two fishes?

If He were not flesh, who fell asleep in the boat?
And if He were not God, who rebuked the winds and the sea?

If He were not flesh, with whom did Simon the Pharisee eat?
And if He were not God, who pardoned the offenses of the sinful woman?

If He were not flesh, who sat by the well, worn out by the journey?
And if He were not God, who gave living water to the woman of Samaria and reprehended her because she had had five husbands?

If He were not flesh, who wore human garments?
And if He were not God, who did acts of power and wonders?

If He were not flesh, who spat on the ground and made clay?
And if He were not God, who through the clay compelled the eyes to see?

If He were not flesh, who wept at Lazarus’ grave?
And if He were not God, who by His command brought out one four days dead?

If He were not flesh, who sat on the foal?
And if He were not God, whom did the crowds go out to meet with glory?

If He were not flesh, whom did the Jews arrest?
And if He were not God, who gave an order to the earth and threw them onto their faces?

If He were not flesh, who was struck with a blow?
And if He were not God, who cured the ear that had been cut off by Peter and restored it to its place?

If He were not flesh, who received spittings on His face?
And if He were not God, who breathed the Holy Spirit into the faces of His Apostles?

If He were not flesh, who stood before Pilate at the judgement seat?
And if He were not God, who made Pilate’s wife afraid by a dream?

If He were not flesh, whose garments did the soldiers strip off and divide?
And if He were not God, how was the sun darkened at the cross?

If He were not flesh, who was hung on the cross?
And if He were not God, who shook the earth from its foundations?

If He were not flesh, whose hands and feet were transfixed by nails?
And if He were not God, how was the veil of the temple rent, the rocks broken and the graves opened?

If He were not flesh, who cried out, “My God, my God, why have you abandoned Me”?
And if He were not God, who said “Father, forgive them”?

If He were not flesh, who was hung on a cross with the thieves?
And if He were not God, how did He say to the thief, “Today you will be with Me in Paradise”?

If He were not flesh, to whom did they offer vinegar and gall?
And if He were not God, on hearing whose voice did Hades tremble?

If He were not flesh, whose side did the lance pierce, and blood and water came out?
And if He were not God, who smashed to gates of Hades and tear apart it bonds? And at whose command did the imprisoned dead come out?

If He were not flesh, whom did the Apostles see in the upper room?
And if He were not God, how did He enter when the doors were shut?

If He were not flesh, the marks of the nails and the lance in whose hands and side did Thomas handle?
And if He were not God, to whom did He cry out, “My Lord and my God”?

If He were not flesh, who ate by the sea of Tiberias?
And if He were not God, at whose command was the net filled?

If He were not flesh, whom did the Apostles and Angels see being taken up into heaven?
And if He were not God, to whom was heaven opened, whom did the Powers worship in fear and whom did the Father invite to “Sit at my right hand”. As David said, “The Lord said to my Lord, sit at my right hand, etc.”

If He were not God and man, our salvation is a lie, and the words of the Prophets are lies.”

St. Ephrem Syriac icon

Transfiguration by Raphael (1518-1520)

Memoirs and the Creative Life

It's strange but although I was fully planning on reading some fiction, these memoirs came on my radar... 

Suleika Jaouad's Between Two Kingdoms: A Memoir of a Life Interrupted was beautifully written without a trace of sentimentality, even though all her dreams of becoming a war correspondent were shattered upon the diagnosis of leukemia. She spent nearly four years in the hospital enduring chemotherapy and a bone marrow transplant. While there, she began writing. I love that it began as a 100-day project upon a suggestion of a social worker and that it turned into a blog and a column for the New York Times. She is a gifted writer. I loved that she had a supportive family, a boyfriend who dropped everything to care for her, and friends all over the country. After she was "cured" she realized she didn't know how to live. This is when healing begins. She confronts her fears, goes on a 100-day journey, meeting people she'd corresponded with from her hospital bed. She finds herself. 

The Book of Alchemy is a collection of 100 personal essays and writing prompts from different creatives, each with an introduction from Suleika Jaouad. It is a book one can dive into over and over and perhaps some of the prompts will become your favorite exercises. 

There I Am: A Journey from Hopelessness to Healing by Ruthie Lindsey was so beautifully written. She drew me into her life, her family, and then into the harrowing pain that was her constant companion. How ironic that she was hit by an ambulance. And the surgery that saved her life also gave her a life of chronic pain. Modern medicine can be amazing but it does not address pain very well. How she crawled out of the pit of darkness by choosing to focus on little moments of beauty and joy was the road to her healing. I just loved how much support she had from her family. I recommend reading this if you suffer from any kind of pain and sorrow. You will be enveloped in Ruthie's compassion. 

Reading Just Making by Mitali Perkins was like having a delicious cup of tea with the author as she shares her journey as a children's writer, the questions she asks herself, the lessons she's learned, and encourages us all to keep making--bring truth, goodness, and beauty into a suffering world.

Joyride by Susan Orlean was the most disappointing of all the memoirs, even though she's a wonderful writer, is curious, and adventurous. Although I learned a lot about the magazine world and the stories she chased, it left me hollow. She writes that this memoir is about her stories, but I expected more of herself in it. The personal moments are extremely guarded. Why write a memoir then? Thanks to Netgalley for providing me a review copy. 

New Non-Fiction Picture Books

I have really enjoyed the "Consider" series of books by Jennifer Grant and illustrated by Julianna Swaney, so I was delighted to see that they had a new book: Consider the Night Sky, especially since the original meaning of the word "consider" is to literally examine the stars! 

The book begins with the sun and daytime and how as evening comes "orange and pink and purple paint across the sky" and finally "the sky fades to smoky gray and then turns inky blue or black, it is Night!" Now we explore the night sky--phases of the moon, constellations, planets, empty space. Lyrical writing paired with beautiful illustrations lead a child gently to wonder about the vastness of the universe, how God knows each and every one of His creations, including the reader. A wonderful introduction to astronomy. Thanks to  NetGalley for a review copy. 

 

The Messenger by Lyndsay Roberts Rayne is a nearly wordless picture book that tells a story of love and sacrifice for a greater good so beautifully. One little girl gives up her beloved dog to be trained as a messenger dog to be used on the frontlines during WWI. The soldier and the dog develop a deep bond and when the soldier is injured, it is the dog who comes to his rescue. This is a  picture book for older kids--8 and up--because of the reality of war. At the very end, the author gives more information about the animals that were used during the war. Thanks to NetGalley for a review copy.  

Journey of Shunya Means Zero

I just received my author copies of Shunya Means Zero, a book that's had a very long gestation...23 years!!! Sometimes, when you flip an idea on its head, it falls into place.

I've always been fascinated with numbers and patterns and so it was natural to write about the history of our numerical system. Magazine writing has trained me to have a tight focus so I decided to stick to the history of zero, which was invented in India, and followed it with an introduction to the history and culture of India using the tried and true method of counting. Zero violence. One Taj Mahal. Two Language Families. Etc.

 
I started submitting to publishers in 2003 and after about a dozen submissions over three years with only a few personal rejection letters encouraging me, I shelved it. I was busy writing other books and teaching. In 2017, I revisited Shunya (see Vijaya Bodach: Journey of Little Thief! Chota Chor! ) and flipped it--first the counting, then the history of zero and it was accepted right away by Reycraft. My editor, Sunita Apte, helped me make the text even tighter and I was so delighted that Nayantara Surendranath was again paired with me to do the illustrations. But it was a long wait...but God's timing is always perfect. And worth the wait. 

I wrote this for my children, but it is their children who will be the beneficiaries of this book. I was able to dedicate it to my grandbabies. Just five days after Dagny's baby boy was born, my editor sent me the final art (I'd seen some sketches before but seeing the art in full color took my breath away) and we went through another round of tweaking the text. I had the baby's initials for the dedication. Yay! I wrote to Max and Laura, asking whether they had decided on a name for their baby girl. I promised I'd keep it secret and only my editor would know, lol. But they hadn't decided. So I went with babyB. 

I got an email with the final proofs the day Max and Laura's sweet baby girl was born. We still didn't know the name until the evening, but once they decided, I shot back an email to my editor for the final dedication. Whew!!! 

More importantly, although I'm proud to be American, I have not forgotten my roots, the place that began shaping me into the person I am today. I have wanted so much to share it with my children, but by the time they were old enough that they'd remember a trip to India, my health was declining, and travelling was (still is) too hard on me. Max and I had the opportunity to go to Kolkata and work with the Sisters of Charity in 2020, but the lockdowns meant no travelers were being issued visas. It was a huge disappointment. I pray that we'll all be able to take a family trip to India with the children and grandchildren...but in the meantime, they'll have this book. It is so much more meaningful now than when I first penned it. I can't wait to share it with not just my grandbabies, but with school children everywhere. Here's Grandpa practicing for reading to the grandbabies :)