“I was a totally different person there.”

Sometimes when we travel we end up in places that have such a strong identity they infuse us with it as well. Italy has always been one of these spots for me, and I was glad to find that Annie Seaton’s new book, ITALIAN AFFAIR, successfully captures its essence.

As you know, I don’t typically write book reviews in my blog. But in this case I was so intrigued by the setting (Italy) that I decided to join in her blog tour. I’m so glad I did! It turned out to be a fun story with a great sense of place. -

When Scottish girl Brianna finds she has inherited a property in Italy she feels she will finally be able to get a feeling for the mother she never knew. The catch? She must be married to inherit it. Lucky for her she meets a kind, if a bit uptight, Australian guy, Tom, who for his own purposes agrees to help her out.

While at times I craved a bit more character development, this may have been because I liked both Tom and Brianna and wanted to see their personalities shine through even more. The story itself has just the right pacing so that the reader can enjoy the beautiful Italian setting.

And enjoy it I did! Descriptions of the villa she has inherited which brought me into the beautiful Mediterranean sunshine; attention to the details of food and drink; the portrayal of sounds which remind the reader they are in a living place.

     A whitewashed villa sprawled down the hill at the end of the
  road. The vista of the sea formed a scenic backdrop to the waves
  breaking gently on the pebbled beach far below them.
    “Is this it?” He strode down the hill and caught up to Brianna,
  who stood at a locked wrought iron gate. Tom peered over the
  top of the intricately scrolled metal into a paved courtyard with
  a small fountain in the middle. Wind chimes tinkled and the soft
  sound of the cascading water greeted them from inside.
                                                   (excerpt from- Italian Affair)

All of this allowed me, for a brief time, to travel to Italy and watch as the two main characters became the Italian versions of themselves… still quirky and unique, but a bit softer around the edges and more passionate about their own lives.

I give ITALIAN AFFAIR,  4 * stars. Take your own trip to Italy via this fun story and you might become a different person for a while as well.

Which of your favorite books have immersed you in their setting? Do you become a whole new person (without the help of alchohol:>) when you travel? I love to hear from readers, so leave a comment and be sure to let me know what you think of my posting a review every now and then.

Here’s to your own Journey Inspired by Love -
Deanne
                                    Be to click on the 'Read More' button below right for Author Bio, Book Blurb and Tour details

“You can’t dye hair blonde, you bleach it.” (15 year old)

Isn’t it amazing the things you know at fifteen? Instagram – check, fad diets – check, manipulating the system – check; natural consequences – not so much.

This overhear reminded me of so many years ago when I was fifteen and still naïve about what really mattered in life. Long, blonde hair seemed incredibly important; as did (don’t laugh at the Brady Bunch context) a face without freckles. And I discovered great news; One household kitchen item could cure both apparently. Sitting in the sun with lemon juice on your face and hair was supposed to do the trick.

Ri-i-ight. Who in their right mind would ever think something like that was a good idea? Apparently me, and I ended up with a sunburnt, dried out, face and brittle, straw-like, hair.

Now I have come to love my freckles (although who knew that they would start to expand from those cute little dots they were back in high school to continent sized landmarks) and am amazed and grateful that my natural, strawberry-blonde hair hides the grey.

Still, while I have learned to accept myself in a way I never dreamed of in high-school, lately it seems like every dinner conversation at our house includes a dialogue with my husband over our need to lose some weight. And by lately here, I actually mean like for the last two years. So, we finally decided to re-visit Jenny Craig and become serious about it.

Funny, though, that the response I get most often upon telling friends that I am on the program is – “But you look fine. I don’t think you need to lose any weight.”

And, perhaps that is true… maybe I do look okay. But I’d like to pause here and re-visit some recent blog / social media posts.

1. Food has been featured in many (and if you haven’t found my Molto Mayhem blog with recipes from the novel
I am working on you may not realize this.)

2. I have been whinging a lot about the training I am doing for learning to kick a field goal (again, refer to my Field Goal blog)

3. The symptoms of menopause have been discussed in great length here over a period of time.

So, while I may not look like I need to drop some weight, the truth is, my body is telling me I do… and but
quick!

As well, though this is something else a fifteen year old might know but never say out loud, fortunately my daughter is only 9 and she had no qualms about it. She understood right away when my husband and I told her we were on a strict diet. “So then you’ll be able to wear that pink dress again?”

Yes.... it is all about fitting into my clothes comfortably and walking the hills around our house without wheezing.

She also went on to say, “Okay. So then if you and Dad are on a diet, does that mean I get to have the extra desserts every night?”

Big sigh….. “Sadly yes! Yes it does.”

Have you been on a diet you liked (or hated), or had a dress you really wanted to wear again from years earlier? I'd love to hear how you handled it and what people said if you told them. (I'd also love to know what crazy stuff you did at 15 if that is easier to talk about:>) Leave me a comment and share the journey.

Cheers,
Deanne

"Mommy, you're not even focusing on me."

Rather than coming from my own daughter, this quote was from a little 4 year old boy. We were painting and hanging out at a fantastic open studio, Art A La Carte, where kids can use all the materials there to create anything they want. Presumably they do this mostly on their own... So I thought it would be a great activity to engage her while I got some work done on book promotion (more on that below).

Of course kids are pretty perceptive. And although most of the time they would rather not have us paying attention, as soon as we want to focus on something else they are all over us like an old, anxious dog. Obviously this little boy missed the point that he was supposed to be amusing himself while the mom and grandmother had some quality chat time. :>) Darn. You mean we paid money so that we could sit here and watch him paint?

It helps that my daughter is much older... so while every now and then I had to look up and comment on her artwork, the free Wi-Fi allowed me to let people know that my book, BETTING JESSICA, is FREE today.

Like the little boy, the characters in my first book have been demanding attention lately; feeling ignored, like an older sibling when a new baby arrives. So, I decided to give them, and fans of the book, a little love.

August 9th, I will be offering a free short story based on Jessica and some friends she met while in Tahoe, at http://www.freereadsfromthegenre-istas.blogspot.com/

So, hopefully Jessica and Erik will finally be off my back and let me get back to work finishing my next, great, creation.

“Of course I am stressed. I only have a month and a half to finish my application.”

Ha! This is so me. Having decided to apply for a residency program outside of Seattle (two weeks, hidden away from the world, surrounded by other writers) I am now completely stressed about sending in the perfect application. A month and a half is more than enough time. And yet I am having dreams of missing trains and counting minutes on
clocks.

Will you help me, my loyal readers? I need you. Part of the application requires a mixed writing sample and I would like to include a blog post. But which one? I have culled through my archives to locate three I think could work. At the bottom of this blog post today I have added a poll box. Can you take one moment to respond? And, if you have a separate favorite, one I have not included, please feel free to leave either the date of the post, or a description, in the comments section. It is truly appreciated.

Post 1 – Italy, July 26, 2011

Overheard at… a Trattoria in Tuscany

“It is made by my uncle.......”

Apparently there is something about Tuscany that forces you to write lyrically.... It may be the wine, or perhaps the moments of beauty, but whatever the reason, I apologize for my change in tone. It can't be helped.

Images of San Quirico d'Orcia

A garden, hidden by a stone tunnel. Voices and the clinking of silverware on plates. It is obviously a trattoria. I walk through the town; a dark church where a white ceramic statue of the Madonna floats in front of gauzy silver fabric. She glows like an apparition.

My parking ticket in Chianciano Terme put me off as I began my day, but now I have been put back together again. A store is open past 1:30; it is a miracle. Inside, linens fill shelves, frames and ceramics are everywhere, but my eye is caught by a small pillow, Le Mamme sono angeli incognito.

A wide grassy area in a park makes me wonder why? There are bleachers... perhaps sports? No, it is for music of course. Today, though, all is quiet, only ghosts crowd around me.

I am drawn back to the trattoria. “A table for one?” I ask in English. Of course signora, he says. The menu has English translations... Oh no! I have chosen wrong. How is it possible? The setting is perfect- A table under an awning, under a tree. A wisteria covered trellis. Everyone around me speaks Italian and smokes.

Wine? I am asked. Soft or hard? Old or new? Full bodied? Ah, this one, he says. I ask, “where is it from?” He tells me Montepulciano...It is made by his uncle. All is forgiven... I have chosen right after all.
 
So this is what panzanella looks like. It has more bread than I thought - and cucumber for crunch. I take a picture but its' essence is hidden in 'place'- this place.

Pici is a type of pasta from this area. It sounds like it should be small pieces of something but it is actually more like misshapen spaghetti. With pecorino e pepe, it is as close as Italians might get to mac-n-cheese. All creamy and white, the pepper stands out as the queen of the dish.
 
Now I am done. Should I linger or continue on my journey? The perfect contrast between the dark pink red of the watermelon and the green of its rind is compelling, but I think I will pass. A dark cloud is coming our way and I hope to find another place still today.

But no, not yet! First I meet Graciella and Guido as we wait to pay our bill. I take their picture and they take mine. Guido is very interested in my time here. “It is a good place for Americans to see,” he says. “Yes, they should come here.” They are from Torrino. It is too built up he thinks. This is what a holiday should be.

The cloud has passed.... probably I will now chase it to Montalcino.

Post 2 – Dog, February 12, 2013 

Overheard… along the side of the road

“It’s good karma.”

It was kind of the firefighters to stand in the rain with me, waiting for a public service person (aka police officer) to arrive and take care of the dog I had found- wandering, lost, cold, and limping- along a neighborhood road. Given the fact that the dog was also blind and had what was obviously a tumor on her stomach and hind leg, it was no wonder she looked worn out and sad.

The firefighters hung out with me and my daughter for at least half an hour, until eventually the police officer came to claim the dog. After slowly walking her up and down the road and offering the dog reassurances while I had waited, I now found it difficult to watch the police officer shut her in his car, her confused face staring out from
inside.

“It will be okay,” I told her through the window, as if she could hear me; all the while knowing that, without a collar and looking so sick, chances were good they would not find an owner. Probably she would be euthanized. In fact, as my daughter and I prepared to get in our own car and leave, the officer asked if I would like to be notified before they euthanized. I shook my head, hesitantly, sadly, guiltily.

Of course it only took a moment for my daughter to ask what euthanize meant. Most Catholics do not believe that animals have souls. And without a soul they do not go to heaven. This is one doctrine, though, about which I am not sure. Of all God’s creatures animals often seem the most holy to me. Certainly this dog did, as she limped along, maintaining her dignity even as I think she sensed her own death. Perhaps she had faith, as I explained to my daughter, that she would soon be in a better place.

I am not sure what that place looks like- either for myself or for that dog. It may be as W. Bruce Cameron fictionalizes in his book, A DOG’S PURPOSE. She will come back again, to live another, new life, as a dog. Or perhaps, as with the animals in C.S. Lewis’ NARNIA series, she will pass over to a better place.
 
Wherever she lands, I hope that her body was at least able to sense what her eyes could not see, that for even a brief amount of time she was loved- by three firefighters, an eight year old, and me.

Post 3 – Menopause, December 11, 2012

Overheard at… The Newmark Theater, Portland

“We saw Menopause the Musical here. It’s the kind of show you have to see with girlfriends.”

Hormones are interesting, don’t you think? When we are young, they make us do crazy things. And then, when we get older, they make us do even crazier things. In between they drive us nuts twice a month (ovulation and PMS for those who aren’t as attuned to these times as I have become).

I don’t get it. Technically I’m not yet going through the big change (no, not the one from Ellen to Oprah – I’m talking
about menopause.) Already, though, I get night sweats. Last night they came on so strong I was actually sweating inside my ear, something I didn’t even know could happen.

What environmental factor, exactly, is all of this craziness supposed to be supporting? I mean, couldn’t we get our period without also wanting to shoot the person, lugging a full cart, who got into line at the grocery store just ahead of us? Wouldn’t you think God could have made it so that, in puberty, we could start to think guys are sort of worth our time, without also needing to wear water-proof mascara in case our hair clip slipped loose?

When my sister and I talked about menopause she assured me that until flip-flops were m shoe of choice I had nothing to worry about. This seemed like a reasonable, if somewhat terrifying, marker. What sort of extreme biological fluctuations must be happening inside women’s bodies for our temperature to rise so bizarrely high?
The closest I could compare it to would be the way my body began to sweat and shake when I injured myself and was in severe pain. Could it be that our bodies are responding to exactly that sort of crisis?

The only sure conclusion I have reached is that Mary, the mother of God, must have been on the younger side of 40 when Jesus died. Because, I am sure that, had she gone through the wonderful joys of menopause before he died, she would have made it a priority for him to get the system fixed.

 Let me know what you think – post 1, 2 or 3. I appreciate your support. And I promise, if I do win the residency, I’ll still post my bog as usual during those two weeks. Cheers, Deanne.

“If he is English he would ask for second flush Darjeeling to show he knows what he is talking about.”

My recent revisions to Molto Mayhem have led my main characters to a tea salon in Salerno so I have found myself in need of tea facts. For date night this weekend then, my husband and I found ourselves at Tao of Tea, a tea house in Portland. After enjoying a lovely cup of relaxing and rejuvenating Ayurvedic tea blend called Vata-Dosha,we proceeded next door to the loose tea shop and were fortunate enough to encounter a wonderfully knowledgeable salesperson, Claudia.

Rather than make me feel like a bother for asking my myriad of tea questions, she seemed to jump right into the adventure, somehow nailing my hero’s character without me even describing him. Indeed, Aiden would have been  thrilled to show off his tea knowledge and supreme Bristishness for Lucia.

Research like this is one of the reasons I adore writing. Later I asked my husband if the topic were interesting to him (rather than enduring my botanical tea information overload) he would ever enjoy this aspect of writing. I have tried for a while to convince him to write…. But have come to the conclusion that this happens only when someone is ready. Still, I’m not against a little persuasion, and this aspect of writing is often hidden from aspiring authors.

My characters have led me on many strange and wonderful journeys. I have paced the parking lot of an airport, written words in the sand at a beach, re-created a recipe of sardines and rare roast beef on grilled bread, chatted online with football fans about kicker training regimens, and spoken with grief counselors, along this journey. Along the way I have discovered things I never knew about each of these subjects or environments. Of course my favorite research is when I get to visit some of my most beloved places, like my trip to Montalcino, Italy. It is the subjects I am not expecting to learn about, though, that have the strongest impact on me and also end up being the ones that
strengthen and bind my stories.

In this case I never expected to find myself researching Hippocrates theory of the Four Humors of the body; never expected it would lead to learning more than I ever wanted to know about Culpepper’s herbal remedies; and certainly never imagined I would discover a tea blend, Vata-Dosha, which would, indeed, allow me a whole day of lightness, creativity and contentment with my daughter.

Do you have a favorite tea? Is it for taste or healing aspect? I’d love to hear all about it, so leave me a comment and let me know what you think. Happy Journeys - Deanne

“I’m thinking orchid purple, not violet.”

It’s funny how easily snippets of conversation are overheard when it relates to something important to me. With my daughter in summer camp for the week my entire focus has been on my writing. Everywhere I go I hear Italian songs (my current project, Molto Mayhem), discussions of football or weddings (UNTANGLING THE KNOT), or Boston news (UNTANGLING THE KNOT and BETTING JESSICA).

I had been distracted for a while by the conversation which prompted the overhear. A woman was meeting with a wedding vendor (florist I guessed) discussing her wedding plans. She was a bit older, but no less excited about her plans than a 20 something year old would have been.

I loved writing about a wedding when I worked on UNTANGLING THE KNOT. As stressful as the planning can be, I still remember it as having been a wonderful experience planning my own wedding so many years ago. The chance to revisit all the details…. The ceremony itself with the readings, décor, priest, dress, flowers and then the reception with the venue, food, music… made it such fun to write the story of Mandy, Ryan and Gabriella.

One reason I love weddings, I think, is that it is such a perfect opportunity for a woman to express their personality and style. Writing about it, then, gives an author a chance to really show, rather than tell, more about their characters.

And so, the overhear quote cracked me up. Because in one scene of my book Gabriella, the church wedding planner, talks with the groom’s kids, Chloe and Peter, about the color the bride-to-be has chosen.

“Of course,” Gabriella went on, “if you had come on time, I wouldn’t have had the chance to steal Chloe’s great clothing designs for another bride I’m helping.”

He watched her grin at Chloe and saw Chloe glance away, embarrassed.

“Really?” Ryan asked. “I thought you all were supposed to be working on my wedding.” He gave them a mock glare but Gabriella just laughed.

“Oh, somehow I don’t think this design would have been quite, ah, purple enough for Mandy.”

Shocked, Ryan saw Chloe actually smile at this. Peter snorted and then concentrated on the slice of pizza he was
inhaling.

“And, what’s wrong with purple?” Ryan teased. “I specifically asked Mandy to come up with some purple ideas. After all, purple signifies royalty.”

Gabriella and Chloe both stared at him, horror-struck.

“You two could be twins right now,” Ryan said, laughing at their identical expressions. “Don’t worry. I was just teasing. There won’t be any purple at my wedding if I can help it.”

“Hey, that’s what Gabriella said, Dad,” Peter mumbled around a huge bite of pizza.

Ryan watched Gabriella blush. He had no idea embarrassment could make someone so attractive.

“Not your wedding,” she clarified. “I meant, you know, for my own wedding.”

Ryan couldn’t figure out why he suddenly felt a little disconcerted.

“Oh,” he said. “I didn’t know you were also engaged.”

Peter stopped chewing and peered at Gabriella with a frown.

“No, no. I’m not,” she clarified. “I just meant, you know, someday when I get married.” She trailed off, streaks of red darting up her cheeks. Ryan felt his body relax.

What color did I have at my wedding, you ask? I chose a pale yellow with fall colored flowers. And of course it was perfect. But that’s the thing; even purple can be the perfect color if that is the color the bride loves.

What color would you, or did you, have at your own wedding? Does it mean anything important to you? I’d love to hear, so leave a comment with your thoughts or even tweet pictures. Here’s to the empowerment of planning our
weddings.

“That was some of the best banjo playing ever.”

Only in Portland! It was our first time at this bar in SE Portland and we had no idea what to expect. Actually, that’s not entirely true. Given that we had come to see an improve act based on Star Trek; The Next Generation, we had some idea it was going to be a bit whacky.

The person at the door told us that we could stay to watch Domprov at 10:00 if we wanted…. But that was waaaay past my bedtime, so we sadly missed seeing what Dominatrix Improv would be all about. The Star Trek act was pretty funny though. Deanna Troy did a good job impersonating the original. And Warp looked spot on.

Still, it was far too easy to become distracted by the décor and conversations happening around us. I conversed easily with a twenty-something couple out on a date (the same ones who said the overhear). We talked classic
video games, and it appears I missed a whole generation of the best game ever based on The Simpsons.

Scattered along the walls were Funhouse mirrors. I searched for the one that would make me look tall and skinny, but I think they hid it in the men’s room or something. But, while I was searching, I landed (only momentarily) in a private room. Every square inch was covered in clown faces of all sort. I wish I had taken a picture, but I was already feeling out of place in sooooo many ways I really didn’t want to call more attention to myself.

This is what I love about Portland, though. It is not so much that my city has such crazy venues; I am sure most big cities can brag of their fair share of pop culture. It is more that, as a 40 something year old mom, I would be welcomed in. I wouldn’t have to be dressed right, or have the correct zip code. I could sit and have a drink, wander around gawking, and even learn all about what it takes to be considered a great banjo player.

"Happy 4th of July"

In celebration of the 4th I thought you might like to know how my characters are spending their day. I hope
you enjoy.

Jessica from BETTING JESSICA

Hi everyone... I hope you are having a great 4th. Since Deanne published the book about me and Erik life has been pretty crazy. Katie loved my idea about starting up a home catering business and it has taken off like fireworks on the 4th. So, guess what I am doing today? All of summer is busy for us, but the 4th is especially so. We have an awesome picnic basket we designed for the 4th, filled with all of Katie's great food and some fun 4th of July items I found. I especially love this napkin idea I got from the blog Fancy House Road. I also filled the basket with specially packed water balloons... because what 4th of July party is complete without a little water fun? Plus it is really hot here in Boston. Yesterday we delivered 100 baskets to customers on the Esplanade who had signed up for them. And today we have about 300 deliveries to make. I'd stay to watch the fireworks, but to be honest, I'd rather go hang with Erik on his rooftop with a nice glass of Sangria. Hope you have a great 4th of July.

                                                                         * * * *

Gabriella from UNTANGLING THE KNOT

Happy 4th of July everyone. Thanks for making it such a great year for me. Ryan, Chloe, Peter and I love to go see the fireworks at Needham. It is a cute little town next to Newton, and the grassy area where they hold the fireworks feels like a small town celebration. The best part about it, though, is that they hold it on July 3rd., so we got to celebrate last night. Like Jessica, today I am working. There is a huge wedding at St. Therese today so I'll be at the church most of the day. I have to admit that I do love the wedding outfits the bride choose; especially the seersucker with the pinwheels. I can't wait to see them come down the aisle. I hope all of you have a perfect 4th... God Bless America!

“Um, Mommy… I just spilt my juice all over Daddy’s computer.”

Of course she was joking. That’s what we thought anyway. But no- there was the laptop, open for watching a movie, with red smoothie juice spread all over it. You could literally see the sticky fluid seeping into the keyboard, the disk drive hole, the on/off button.

“NOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Safety be damned! I yanked off my seatbelt and crawled into the back seat, desperately trying to stop as much of the damage as I could while my husband pulled the car over to the side of the road and proceeded to almost have a heart attack.

It was an ironic moment actually, since just last week I posted a blog about how technology fails us. We have become reliant (overly so) on screen time to make the 10 hour drive go by more quickly for our daughter (and thus for us.) We force her off of it every now and then for at least an hour. “Look at that beautiful mountain,” we say. But she barely looks up from her screen (laptop or iPod) and we are left to enjoy the vistas on our own.

No on this trip, however. This juice spill happened 3 hours into our journey; which left about 8 to fill computerless. Granted the first two were spent in tears, apologies, and questions about whether daddy would ever forgive her. But after the tension in the car finally mellowed, we were left with wonderful stop-over in Crater Lake, some fun car games, some nice discussions, and a little bit of iPod time.

Strangely, it was one of our nicer car trips. The fact of the matter is that technology is not really to blame for over reliance; sometimes we let ourselves down with low expectations. Next time, whether we have a computer available or not there will be new rules for the amount of time she spends staring at a screen.