Cynthia Harrison's Blog, page 37

Sauntering Into 60

Every day as I sit at my desk, I high five this guy. His arm swings. He’s my good luck charm. I need him because change is scary and the only thing that doesn’t change is that everything changes.

The internet changed publishing so fast people in the book biz still find it difficult to catch their breath, find a rhythm, secure a spot at the table. Me, I’ve given up on all that. Well, today anyway. Taking it day by day for a while until I get myself sorted. April is revision month and after that I’m just not sure. I know I have a book due, an editor waiting and a publisher willing today.

But then the world could turn upside down tomorrow.  There’s an eclipse coming April 4 that is sure to shake up everyone’s life in out-of-the-blue unexpected ways big or small. People born on or close to that day will feel the effects more than others, according to Susan Miller at Astrology Zone.

Social media changes even faster than the internet. I do my best to keep up but I’m done running. I’m 60 and sauntering. You’ll see some changes here on the blog soon, and maybe notice a difference if you follow me on Twitter or are a Facebook friend. I’m getting rid of the Fan page. I’m the last to know but the Facebook Fan page has outlived its usefulness as a free site. The latest thing is to let everyone be your friend, which was what I did before, but everything old is new again.

So…my FB updates will change as I seek to guard my friend and family’s privacy a little better than before. I am so open online, and it has never hurt me, or not much anyway, but not everybody is like me. Also, you might not know this, but there are private pieces of me. No really! Also, some of my friends who are not on Facebook have asked me not to post pictures or updates that include them on the site. I have to respect their wishes.

I’m slowly evolving into my “Fourth Twenty” in other ways too. Taking better care of my health. This is a scary thing because if I lose all the weight my doctor says I need to, my face is gonna be trashed. I mean, more than it already is. I like being a little plump because it means less wrinkles and sag. But I’m 60. Vanity is not going to take me to the plastic surgeon or even an injectable party, thank you very much. I look to letting that go. I think it will be interesting not to be interested in my looks.

The other thing is my blood sugar, which I have battled for years. It looks like giving up sweets is not going to be enough to bring my numbers down. I cut carbs and calories, but it looks like grains are going to have to go, at least until I’m stabilized. So how exactly does a vegetarian get her complete protein, the full amino acid chain, without combining beans and rice or pasta and pine nuts? Could a bigger change than I ever anticipated be afoot?

Tagged: health, Sixty, Sugar, writing

Bones & Whispers

A new review is up on A Woman’s Wisdom.

This one’s a psychologist thriller, one of my favorite genres. If you like Tana French and Gillian Flynn, you’ll like Catherine Gault.

Tagged: A Woman's Wisdom, indie review, psychological thriller

Rock on Ancient Queen

Stevie Nicks says she never had a family because she knew from a very early age that music would be her life. She’s in her 60s now, and music still defines her. I recently turned 60 and everything that had previously defined me went away. Not overnight, but slowly, over the last six months or so, the things that once made me who I am, or thought I was, disappeared. I’ve suddenly got a clean slate.

For most of my adult life I have been held aloft by four pillars: family, friends, teaching, and writing. One by one, I have seen these things that used to hold me up recede. They still stand, but apart from me, as if at a distance. I continue to love my family and friends, but they take far less room than before. There is an empty spot inside me now and it is not a bad thing. It feels spacious.

I no longer teach and even writing is on pause as I contemplate what my life, going forward, will look like. What will hold me up now that my children have children of their own and live thousands of miles away? Who will fill my days as friends move to warmer climates, travel to visit their own far-flung families, become hands-on grandparents or deal with aging parents, death and illness? What will replace my days as the lesson plans and students fall away and my writing feels tentative and not at all important?

None of this is exactly causing me distress. It feels natural, inevitable. But a question remains: what IS important to me now that I’m 60? Now that those outer pleasures cease to fulfill quite as effectively as before? I found a clue this past summer, although at the time it felt more like a blow. It was in fact a car accident that threw me into an uncomfortable place, somewhere I’d been before, somewhere I didn’t want to go again.

I felt a great need to escape. I wanted to leave every part of my life behind, but running away was not an option. I was in the middle of my final semester before retirement. I had not one but two grandchildren on the way, and this, even in my terror and sadness, was a wonderful thing, a shining full circle from the past when I had wanted, with every fiber of my being, to be a mother. Now my children were carrying on the tradition, passing on the genetic code. Such a sweet and satisfying feeling for me, but (obviously) infinitely more for them.

Then there was the novel I was writing. It decided to take a surprising turn, and, while the events of the plot shocked me, I stuck with it, even while my marriage of three decades eroded for reasons I found difficult to understand. Slowly, I worked out what was not working. Slower yet, we found our way back to each other. But it is different now. Everything is different. Because I am different. I think I am finally me. Not mom, not BFF, not teacher, not writer. Just Cindy. Who is she? What does she want? What does her sixty year old heart need to feel whole?

I have been looking for answers and found some surprising thing about this person I call my “self.” For example, I am capable of great pretense. I suppose that goes along with the fiction writing. For as long as I remember, there have been things I glossed over, pretended to like when I didn’t, pretended were okay when they weren’t, pretended made me happy when they did not. Learning this brought on a state of shock. To understand that my happy life had been a kind of lie I told myself was almost more than I could handle.

I spent months unpeeling the layers of my discontent, taking apart the components of my fear. And what I found was that I could not outrun fear. I could not control panic with pills. I could not manufacture a convenient contentment. But I could, if I scraped together some courage, face those fears. I could learn new habits, replace old ways with new scaffolding. Repair. Rebuild. Regenerate.

What does that even look like? I have no idea. I’ve been moving forward by instinct. Signing up for workshops, planning solo cross-country trips, acquiring a new desk. That desk was a clue. Maybe writing still had a place in my life. Maybe Stevie Nicks had a point. Perhaps it’s the inner life, the creative life, the secrets softly spoken to the self, that stay with us for a lifetime.

Tagged: changes, Retirement, Turning 60

Cindy’s Weekly Review

My thoughts are up on a new book!

Drop by and have a look at A Woman’s Wisdom

Continuing Adventures

This is the cute B & B I found less than a mile from the studio where I will participate in a weekend workshop that is for the first time in my life NOT about writing. My friend Laura Zera facilitates these Desire Map workshops with deep inner attention to core desires. Like what will you regret NOT doing on your deathbed? And how can you get off your duff and do it already?

It’s amazing how much of the day I spend NOT doing what I want to do, but instead mindlessly drift from here to there in cyberspace, in my car, in the supermarket, or this week, from doctor to doctor. Giant pain in the ass, a little bit scary for a minute, but also a huge burst of happiness when I learned that I did not, in fact, have to have my vein cut open, I did not have to have a suspect “mass” removed, I did not have to wait for a biopsy to tell me if it was malignant. After three different people did ultrasounds at a hospital that shall remain nameless, the last guy thought he had it all figured out. “We just don’t know what kind of surgeon you’re gonna need,” he said.

He actually seemed kind of excited that he’d found this rare thing; it was a tiny bit dehumanizing. In fact, I wandered dazed into Starbucks for a soy latte afterward and while waiting for my drink checked Facebook & posted what I thought was a discreet update. Ha. My son calls me “the most extroverted person he knows” on social media. Which is funny because in real life, I’m an introvert. But my post turned out to be a good thing. Lots of love plus I believe in positive vibrations.

Also, a friend I have known since junior high school is married to a surgeon. She saw my post and sent a text offering help. I wasn’t going to bother them; my doctor said surgery was not a for sure thing. “We would, however, like you to consult with this vascular surgeon…” and it was my friends’  husband, who I have also known since junior high.

Trust him with my life? You bet! So I called my friend and she got me in the next day. He was so kind and delivered the most excellent news. I didn’t need surgery, I didn’t need to do anything, this little clot was dissolving on its own and I was gonna be just fine.

And see how discreet I am? I didn’t say their names! Or the name of our junior high even! My son has no idea how much I don’t tell, which is way more than I do. I keep paper journals for the really intense stuff. Or I turn it into fiction. So…on a natural high I naturally came home and booked the workshop.

Even though it’s in Seattle, Washington and I live in Washington, Michigan. Because I deserve it and I need to figure out what to do with this next part of my wonderful life that I don’t want to sleepwalk through or throw away doing something stupid that doesn’t matter. Also, I’m working in a day with Owen, my Seattle grandson. Then I’ll meet Al in California, where we will spend a week with our NEW grandson, who is not yet born. Don’t you think Owen’s already looking like the older cousin? He’s Granny’s big boy now.

I had one more doctor appointment this week, my yearly eye check and the only thing that happened was he dialated my eyes (still that miraculous 20/20, or as Al would say “expensive” 20/20) so I couldn’t read the fine print on the menu when I met my friends for lunch later that day. No problem. Ordered my usual sweet potato fries and a glass of Chardonnay.

Then we went shopping. I am not an avid shopper and I do better at it after a glass of wine. Not that I need an excuse to have a glass of wine or six. But even with just the one glass, I found an antique desk I really like. And a new suitcase I can manage on my own with a carry on. Because Al isn’t coming with me to Seattle this time. And I’m not going home in between trips. And he refuses to bring my huge month-in-Europe suitcase to California. Which means I need to be organized and independent and so forth. I need luggage I can handle on my own. That’s good. It’s part of my core desire, I think. I’ll know for sure after the workshop.

And of course I’ll tell you my core desires when I figure them out because I am the social media extrovert who spills all. (Not.) For example, I could talk more about Al not bringing my second suitcase to California, making it necessary for me to lug around an extra bag. (Do you think that word lug is the root of luggage?) I will say that I am okay with Al refusing to be responsible for my extra shoes and outfits. He’s got his own baggage. Actual and otherwise. Notice how I don’t say what exactly all that is. The only person I tell on is myself. That’s my rule. That and always order the sweet potato fries.

 Life is good and so were these.

Tagged: friendship, health, wellness

The NIFI by Linda Fagioli-Katsiotas

Cynthia Harrison:

My first review for Ali:)

Originally posted on A Woman's Wisdom:

Amazon UK

Amazon US

Book Blurb

This is a story of love and triumph—a story that stretches from Greece to New York and back again. The Nifi opens in 1983 in a remote Greek village where the narrator, a young American woman, finds herself after having eloped with a Greek immigrant from a local diner in a New York suburb. She speaks no Greek and the villagers speak no English, but her new mother-in-law, Chevi, welcomes her and through her son, is able to convey the heartache and betrayals of her life, slowly emerging as a heroine in a heart-wrenching tale. This story is rich in the culture and traditions of one small valley and the events that defined generations. It will leave you with an unquenchable yearning for more!

Cindy’s Review

How does a young woman from Long Island come to marry a Greek man and follow him, live…

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Why Write?

People write books for mysterious reasons. They think they “have an idea.” But for me, it turns out to be a bit more complex than that. My latest release, at least in part, was written as a do-over. I was once a single mom. I keep the true story of that time here. It won a local award and was published in a national anthology because being a single mom is not easy and overcoming hardship makes good story.

I got the idea to write a novel about divorce and how difficult it can be on children (and the adults who are supposedly the mature ones). It would have a happy ending like my own story did, but it wouldn’t sugarcoat the devastation of divorce. When I added an addiction subplot, my publisher wisely decided to market the book as “contemporary fiction” and not romance like my other books.

Divorce is not romantic. Neither is addiction.

Before I embarked on this project I asked permission from the men in life: my husband and two sons. Not because there would be one true detail in this novel but because there would be an eventual husband and two little boys figured prominently in the single mom’s life. That is where reality stopped and imagination took over.

The relief of writing a better journey than my own was immediate and lasting. Healing, even. Of course fiction needs conflict and the small problems of the lovers were supplemented by an equally fictional ex-husband, who I made a terrible addict. That was not something I’d wish on my own ex-husband, who hardly takes a drink of alcohol let alone any other substances. Sure, the real guy, the father of my children, might not like the fictional ex-husband’s role in my book, but it had to be done for the sake of the story.

I’m pretty sure my ex does not read my books anyway. And no, I didn’t ask his permission. This is fiction I’m writing, although in the thick of it, it feels very real. I used real feelings. My own and and those I could clearly read on my sons’ sad faces those many years ago. Writers use emotion the way actors do. It’s a tool and we manipulate it.

That doesn’t sound very nice, but then there are zillions of articles that talk about how writers aren’t good people, that they’ll use anyone and anything if it serves their story. I take exception to that idea. It’s because I don’t want to hurt the real people in my actual life that I don’t write memoir. I make up the people in my novels.

So why write? For the pleasure of a do-over. For revenge. For absolution. To right wrongs, to dive deep into my peculiar fascination with the human psyche, to create order from chaos, to control the actions on the page so I can let go in real life, where there is no such thing as control, or anyway very little of it. And maybe, to walk a mile in somebody else’s shoes and learn, through this exercise in empathy, how to love a little better.

What about money and fame and glory?

Nah. I wouldn’t bet on those things if I were a young writer. They may come, but the odds are not in your favor. The odds of becoming a happier person, content in a world of your own building, now that is a distinct possibility.

Tagged: #MondayBlogs, ficition, writing

A Delicious Debut

I recently chatted with Linda Anger about her fresh off the press debut collection of poetry and stories Sweeping the Floor at the Full Crumb Cafe.

Some of these poems and stories of the women who pass through The Full Crumb Cafe have language so gripping, words and ideas so remarkable, that the reader can rest in their comfort even as the tension of the piece moves through them. Part bright fantasy, with splashes of terror and the possibility of freedom, this solid collection rests on the final, triumphant story of Cindy, the girl who never had a chance but made one for herself out of sheer determination. Is this collection a caper or a cautionary tale? I’d say in Anger’s capable hands, it is both, and more.

You can read my full review of Linda’s collection on Amazon and Goodreads. Meanwhile, here’s what she had to say to my burning questions about poetry, stories, and the writing life: 

Cindy: When did you write your first poem?

Linda: 1960. I was nine years old. It was rhymed and childish, of course – something about horses. More often than not, though, I wrote short stories when I was a child. It wasn’t until I was in high school and took my first creative writing course that I began to be serious about poetry.

Cindy: Do you write/work on petty daily or consistently or is it something you need to feel inspired?

Linda: Both.  I make my living writing for others – blog posts, magazine articles, websites. For those, I am very disciplined and consistent. My poetry and fiction is a bit different. I do write every day, but it is not always a “moving forward” process. Some days I don’t work on a poem or a story, but spend time mapping out concepts I want to explore.

There are the moments of inspiration, of course, and I have pulled to the side of the road to write down a phrase or a story idea more than once in the last ten years, or forced myself out of bed in the middle of the night to copy down a conversation some characters decided to have while I was sleeping! Once those “inspired” thoughts are on paper, they may simmer in my internal cauldron for hours or weeks before I sit down to write seriously.


One poem – “Wallpapering,” which is in “Sweeping the Floors in the Full Crumb Cafe” started out as a 7-page, handwritten rant. Seven months later, after tinkering with it almost every day, I put down my pen, stood up to read it out loud to myself, and realized it was done.


Cindy: Talk more about how the short stories fit into your writing life.


Linda: Short stories were, in my mind, my strong point as a writer of fiction. I still believe that, but find that when I share my shorts with my critique partners, they all want me to keep going – they want novels based on the shorts. So I have two novels in the works right now, and I flip back and forth between them, as well as continuing to write shorts on a regular basis. I’m also in the midst of writing a manuscript that is a series of shorts that relate to each other but are complete stories in their own rights.


Cindy: You also write for others as a business. What’s that like? Does it help or hurt or have no influence at all on your creative writing?


Linda: I think the work I do through my business – The Write Concept, Inc., brings huge benefit to my creative work, and my creative work makes a huge difference in my business writing. Ghostwriting – whether it is a complete manuscript or a single blog post – requires me to listen intensely to the language, cadence, and intent of the people I ghost. This comes in really handy in writing believable dialogue! I love my business work – every day is different, every project is different, there is nothing “routine” about my work life, and that is, I believe, part of the reason I can also be successful in my creative work.

Thanks, Linda! Readers can check out Linda’s website and take a look at her Book Launch page, too.

Tagged: Full Crumb Cafe, interview, Linda Anger, witing

Something(s) New!

I’m so excited about my writing life right now. Bubbling over, actually. Vacation helped me wipe the slate clean as I transition from teaching college to doing other things. Mostly writing things. I’ve got plans in the works and have made a new page listing my writing-related public and social media appearances, all which have come about through serendipity and no work at all on my part. The new page is called, what else, “news” — check it out here. Of course it’s always in the header, too, now.

When it flows, go. When it blocks, stop.

Not sure where I read that…I’ve been reading a ton of psychology and neuroscience lately as I prep for a new book and a new genre. In addition to Unrequited, Letting Go, mindset, The Power of Habit and Mindwise, I am also reading 400 Things Cops Know and The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Private Investigating. Also Detroit: An American Autopsy. And those are just the non-fiction titles I’ve finished, am in the middle of, or have stacked in my TBR pile. I also read several novels on vacation, and I’m savoring Charles Baxter’s new book of short stories There’s Something I Want You To Do. Baxter is one of my favorite authors and I’ve read everything he’s published because he is brilliant, funny and a role model.

Charles Baxter

While I do read a fair amount of non-fiction, novels remain my favorite reading form with short stories a close second. I’ve read thousands of novels and story collections in my life and yes, I know that’s a little bit strange. Sometimes I feel like I don’t inhabit the real world as much as I should because I’m so wrapped up in the world of books. Other times I feel so very comforted by the way novels and stories help me make sense of a sometimes senseless world.

I owe a huge debt to authors. I’m only a writer because I read hundreds and hundreds of books growing up. And then as an adult (and having been a professional book reviewer for a number of years) I’ve read thousands of novels. Eventually, if you read as much as I do, you tend to want to see if you can do it, too. So I owe my own writing career to my love of the written word and the people who made me fall in love with their stories.

This is a perhaps long-winded way of saying that I am about to embark on a new adventure with a favorite friend. As mentioned, I’ve been a professional book reviewer in the past, staff writer for a couple of trade magazines, and I still post reviews on Amazon and Goodreads once in awhile. I used to review informally here on the blog, too, but I’ve never officially been a book blogger before…until Ali asked me if I wanted to write a weekly review for her. Because I love books and her fabulous book blogging on her awesome website, A Woman’s Wisdom, I said YES.

Tagged: reading, reviewing, writing

Announcement: A Woman’s Wisdom Has A New Reviewer-In-Residence!

Cynthia Harrison:

Wow am I excited!

Originally posted on A Woman's Wisdom:

Today is an exciting day for AWW! After over two years of book blogging life I decided I needed some help with the huge amount of books on my submissions list and who better to ask to join me than my dear friend Cynthia Harrison!

For those of you who don’t know her, Cindy is an author of several books in her own right and has just retired from teaching Creative Writing at college level. Before that she wrote book reviews and author interviews for trade magazines in the publishing industry. She lives near Detroit in Michigan, USA with her dear husband Al and has two grown up children, one grandson and another grandchild on the way. She loves Twitter and meeting people from all over the globe. Cindy can be found on her website, Twitter and Goodreads.

In keeping with the aims of AWW, Cindy will also only review books she…

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