Lisette Brodey's Blog, page 34
September 10, 2010
Memories of 9/11: A Trip To Ground Zero
Dear Friends:
On December 3, 2001, I visited Ground Zero at night time. That evening, when I got home, I quickly typed out my thoughts. Being a writer, it is my habit to try and polish my words so that they shine. But I didn't want to do that. I wanted to put my impressions of Ground Zero down, immediately, because I knew that I would always want to remember what I saw…as painful as it was.
Here is what I wrote that day in 2001:
We got down to the World Trade Towers about 8 p.m. Ground Zero is blocked off for about five blocks or so with wooden fences so you can't really see it at street level except for one break in the wall. The fences or "temporary walls" are covered with all kinds of tributes. People are still putting up fresh bouquets of flowers on a regular basis; we were both surprised at how fresh and pretty the flowers were. There were several wreaths with Teddy Bears inside, letters from children and adults, and in one spot I noticed a policeman's badge — which really hit me in the gut.
On a telephone pole, someone had written a letter to NY saying something like, "I'm very very sorry that you are so hurt. I love you so much and I feel so bad for your pain and your loss. I know I am only one voice, but I am praying for you. I love you New York."
There were letters from children in the windows of local stores. At one spot on the sidewalk, I noticed a grouping of about 12 small candles. Only one was still burning. There were all kinds of shrines. Photos are always the most difficult to look at because you're seeing just one person; one person who was real and now is gone. But there's something about that policeman's badge that really struck me. I just expected someone would have taken it because despite all the very good people around, there are still the nuts. But nobody had.
All of this, was right at the base of where you were allowed to stand. What we did see ahead, looming down the street was horrid and grotesque — the kind of sight that forces you into deep introspection and silence. I remember feeling very much the same way when I stood alone in Anne Frank's bedroom, looking at her movie star photos on the wall, and it was also the same kind of quiet that comes over you when visiting the Holocaust museum.
Anyway, you can see GZ from many vantage points (even in NJ) because it is SO very lit up. It IS surreal, just as you've heard many say. There are these huge and hideous piles of twisted wreckage that looked as if they had been there for hundreds of years. It was hard to imagine the World Trade Towers and other buildings in their place. It looked exactly like the footage you see on TV of the war torn villages in the Middle East. To look at this devastation, one couldn't help but translate the images into thoughts of hate and ignorance that brought this to be, of the lives lost, and of the way the world will be changed forever. Everything looked chillingly quiet. The entire area was in a sepia-like color, which made it seem like you were looking at old war photos in a dusty old book that you'd just found in the attic. Only the image had come to life; but at the same time, it was dead. It was all so dead.
To the left of where the towers had stood, was a Liberty Place building that had a huge hole in it but is going to be fixed. It is draped in a black cloth with a large American flag at the top. That flag, and the large red and the large yellow cranes at the sight are the only real splashes of color. The entire scene is lit up like a movie set, but there is eerily little action that one can see from such a distance.
At one place in the makeshift walls, there is a break where you can see the ground level. I could see lights placed in different parts of the wreckage and maybe a few figures in bright yellow coats moving about. I knew there were many, many people down there working, but I could not see them. The entire site seemed to have been abandoned. The entire scene rather transfixes you. You go into another zone and just find yourself staring and staring, almost as if you're going to keep on staring until it starts to make sense to you. Only that doesn't happen and so eventually you have to walk away. I did take a deep breath and could smell the smoke, but luckily, I was too far away to smell that "smell of death" that so many talked about.
This is what I saw on December 2, 2001. To see this, and then imagine this same site two and a half months ago, well, that literally defies comprehension. I had not been in downtown Manhattan for 15-20 years, and incongruous to Ground Zero and in shocking contrast to the site, I was amazed by how built up lower Manhattan was. Very close to the site were so many absolutely gorgeous buildings that I'd never seen before.
When you look at it, the one thing you are amazed and grateful for is that such an amazing number of people (something like 25,000) managed to escape. There was a man there with his family who was a rescue worker of some kind. He said that all of the wreckage was supposedly to be down by January 1. Hard to imagine, esp. as they are taking it all down piece by piece. It seems as if that chore alone could take years. I also heard the man say that the mayor didn't want people to stop working on Christmas.
As you walk away,
you can't help but keep turning back to take one last look, to burn it all into your brain, to make it real in one sense because in another it will never be real.
On December 3, 2001, I visited Ground Zero at night time. That evening, when I got home, I quickly typed out my thoughts. Being a writer, it is my habit to try and polish my words so that they shine. But I didn't want to do that. I wanted to put my impressions of Ground Zero down, immediately, because I knew that I would always want to remember what I saw…as painful as it was.
Here is what I wrote that day in 2001:
We got down to the World Trade Towers about 8 p.m. Ground Zero is blocked off for about five blocks or so with wooden fences so you can't really see it at street level except for one break in the wall. The fences or "temporary walls" are covered with all kinds of tributes. People are still putting up fresh bouquets of flowers on a regular basis; we were both surprised at how fresh and pretty the flowers were. There were several wreaths with Teddy Bears inside, letters from children and adults, and in one spot I noticed a policeman's badge — which really hit me in the gut.
On a telephone pole, someone had written a letter to NY saying something like, "I'm very very sorry that you are so hurt. I love you so much and I feel so bad for your pain and your loss. I know I am only one voice, but I am praying for you. I love you New York."
There were letters from children in the windows of local stores. At one spot on the sidewalk, I noticed a grouping of about 12 small candles. Only one was still burning. There were all kinds of shrines. Photos are always the most difficult to look at because you're seeing just one person; one person who was real and now is gone. But there's something about that policeman's badge that really struck me. I just expected someone would have taken it because despite all the very good people around, there are still the nuts. But nobody had.
All of this, was right at the base of where you were allowed to stand. What we did see ahead, looming down the street was horrid and grotesque — the kind of sight that forces you into deep introspection and silence. I remember feeling very much the same way when I stood alone in Anne Frank's bedroom, looking at her movie star photos on the wall, and it was also the same kind of quiet that comes over you when visiting the Holocaust museum.
Anyway, you can see GZ from many vantage points (even in NJ) because it is SO very lit up. It IS surreal, just as you've heard many say. There are these huge and hideous piles of twisted wreckage that looked as if they had been there for hundreds of years. It was hard to imagine the World Trade Towers and other buildings in their place. It looked exactly like the footage you see on TV of the war torn villages in the Middle East. To look at this devastation, one couldn't help but translate the images into thoughts of hate and ignorance that brought this to be, of the lives lost, and of the way the world will be changed forever. Everything looked chillingly quiet. The entire area was in a sepia-like color, which made it seem like you were looking at old war photos in a dusty old book that you'd just found in the attic. Only the image had come to life; but at the same time, it was dead. It was all so dead.
To the left of where the towers had stood, was a Liberty Place building that had a huge hole in it but is going to be fixed. It is draped in a black cloth with a large American flag at the top. That flag, and the large red and the large yellow cranes at the sight are the only real splashes of color. The entire scene is lit up like a movie set, but there is eerily little action that one can see from such a distance.
At one place in the makeshift walls, there is a break where you can see the ground level. I could see lights placed in different parts of the wreckage and maybe a few figures in bright yellow coats moving about. I knew there were many, many people down there working, but I could not see them. The entire site seemed to have been abandoned. The entire scene rather transfixes you. You go into another zone and just find yourself staring and staring, almost as if you're going to keep on staring until it starts to make sense to you. Only that doesn't happen and so eventually you have to walk away. I did take a deep breath and could smell the smoke, but luckily, I was too far away to smell that "smell of death" that so many talked about.
This is what I saw on December 2, 2001. To see this, and then imagine this same site two and a half months ago, well, that literally defies comprehension. I had not been in downtown Manhattan for 15-20 years, and incongruous to Ground Zero and in shocking contrast to the site, I was amazed by how built up lower Manhattan was. Very close to the site were so many absolutely gorgeous buildings that I'd never seen before.
When you look at it, the one thing you are amazed and grateful for is that such an amazing number of people (something like 25,000) managed to escape. There was a man there with his family who was a rescue worker of some kind. He said that all of the wreckage was supposedly to be down by January 1. Hard to imagine, esp. as they are taking it all down piece by piece. It seems as if that chore alone could take years. I also heard the man say that the mayor didn't want people to stop working on Christmas.
As you walk away,
you can't help but keep turning back to take one last look, to burn it all into your brain, to make it real in one sense because in another it will never be real.
August 8, 2010
New Edition of SQUALOR, NEW MEXICO on sale now!
Hi Friends:
I'm happy to announce that the new edition of my YA novel, SQUALOR, NEW MEXICO, is now on sale in paperback on Amazon.com with 20% off the retail price. (Available in Kindle, too!)
Darla McKendrick is nine when she first hears her mother and her aunt Didi secretly discussing their younger sister, Rebecca, speculating about her life in squalor. From the moment Darla asks to know more about her mysterious aunt, she is offered nothing but half-truths, distortions, and evasions.
As Darla grows into her teen years, her life is oddly yet profoundly affected by this woman she has never known. She can't help but notice that Rebecca seems to exist only in dark corners of conversations and that no one ever wants to talk about her-with Darla.
SQUALOR, NEW MEXICO is a coming-of-age story shrouded in family mystery. As the plot takes twists and turns, secrets are revealed not only to Darla but to the "secret keepers" as well. Darla learns that families are only as strong as the truths they hold and as weak as the secrets they keep.
http://tinyurl.com/mzqpnp
Happy Reading & Writing to all!
Best wishes,
Lisette
I'm happy to announce that the new edition of my YA novel, SQUALOR, NEW MEXICO, is now on sale in paperback on Amazon.com with 20% off the retail price. (Available in Kindle, too!)
Darla McKendrick is nine when she first hears her mother and her aunt Didi secretly discussing their younger sister, Rebecca, speculating about her life in squalor. From the moment Darla asks to know more about her mysterious aunt, she is offered nothing but half-truths, distortions, and evasions.
As Darla grows into her teen years, her life is oddly yet profoundly affected by this woman she has never known. She can't help but notice that Rebecca seems to exist only in dark corners of conversations and that no one ever wants to talk about her-with Darla.
SQUALOR, NEW MEXICO is a coming-of-age story shrouded in family mystery. As the plot takes twists and turns, secrets are revealed not only to Darla but to the "secret keepers" as well. Darla learns that families are only as strong as the truths they hold and as weak as the secrets they keep.
http://tinyurl.com/mzqpnp
Happy Reading & Writing to all!
Best wishes,
Lisette
August 7, 2010
Facebook Author Page
Hi Friends:
I hope you'll check out my new author page on Facebook: http://tinyurl.com/3xv25na
I'm looking forward to interacting with readers and friends.
Hope to see you on Facebook!
Happy Reading,
Lisette
I hope you'll check out my new author page on Facebook: http://tinyurl.com/3xv25na
I'm looking forward to interacting with readers and friends.
Hope to see you on Facebook!
Happy Reading,
Lisette
May 6, 2010
Win a copy of my novel, CROOKED MOON!
Hi Friends:
If you'd like to win a copy of my novel, CROOKED MOON, visit NovelRank's Book Giveaway for May @ http://tinyurl.com/3ac49y9
Good luck! :-) Happy Reading!
Lisette
If you'd like to win a copy of my novel, CROOKED MOON, visit NovelRank's Book Giveaway for May @ http://tinyurl.com/3ac49y9
Good luck! :-) Happy Reading!
Lisette
March 7, 2010
Celebrate e-Book Week
Hello Friends:
In celebration of eBook Week, ireadiwrite.com is selling all eBooks for half price. I hope you'll check out my novel, CROOKED MOON!
Happy Reading!
Lisette
In celebration of eBook Week, ireadiwrite.com is selling all eBooks for half price. I hope you'll check out my novel, CROOKED MOON!
Happy Reading!
Lisette
February 8, 2010
Excerpts of CROOKED MOON now available!
Hello Friends:
I will now be offering excerpts of my novel, Crooked Moon at Whispers of the Muse. As of this writing, February 8, 2010, Chapter One is available to be read. I will be releasing at total of four chapters.
Crooked Moon, first and foremost, is a human drama, an emotional journey into the lives of two women and those closest to them.
As children, Frankie Cavalese and Callie Mason were the very best of friends, growing up together behind opposite walls of a row home in a blue-collar neighborhood of Philadelphia called Rainytown. The friendship they shared was special - the kind that storybook heroines had - and neither ever considered the possibility of it not lasting forever. But after high school, life interfered and circumstances separated them as they each went on to live in drastically different worlds.
Twenty-three years later, one hot unsettled summer, their lives come crashing back together when Callie, who has led a life of privilege, returns to Rainytown and finds her old friend still living in her childhood home, unmarried, and caring for her angry dying mother, Ruby. Frankie is faded. Her signature tenacity is threadbare as she routinely implores her playboy brother, Paulie, to help ease the burden of being their mother’s sole caregiver.
As the two women reconnect, Frankie tries to forgive Callie for abandoning the friendship, while Callie wrestles with the guilt of having disappeared.
To complicate the fragile reunion, Callie's marriage to her husband, Jackson, is suddenly at risk, further muddled by the affections of (and attraction to) Paulie. Tensions and passions explode in the sweltering heat, and amid pain and tragedy, each woman not only ends up with a life-altering secret regarding the other, but the burning question of what to do with it.
Crooked Moon is a story about us all. As a writer, I attempt to show our strengths and weaknesses, the validity and the hypocrisy of our convictions, the resiliency of our spirit, and the humor and humanity in our adversity.
http://www.whispersofthemuse.org/Auth...
The first three chapter of my YA novel, Squalor, New Mexico are also available on this site.
Hope everyone is surviving the winter!
Happy Reading,
Lisette
I will now be offering excerpts of my novel, Crooked Moon at Whispers of the Muse. As of this writing, February 8, 2010, Chapter One is available to be read. I will be releasing at total of four chapters.
Crooked Moon, first and foremost, is a human drama, an emotional journey into the lives of two women and those closest to them.
As children, Frankie Cavalese and Callie Mason were the very best of friends, growing up together behind opposite walls of a row home in a blue-collar neighborhood of Philadelphia called Rainytown. The friendship they shared was special - the kind that storybook heroines had - and neither ever considered the possibility of it not lasting forever. But after high school, life interfered and circumstances separated them as they each went on to live in drastically different worlds.
Twenty-three years later, one hot unsettled summer, their lives come crashing back together when Callie, who has led a life of privilege, returns to Rainytown and finds her old friend still living in her childhood home, unmarried, and caring for her angry dying mother, Ruby. Frankie is faded. Her signature tenacity is threadbare as she routinely implores her playboy brother, Paulie, to help ease the burden of being their mother’s sole caregiver.
As the two women reconnect, Frankie tries to forgive Callie for abandoning the friendship, while Callie wrestles with the guilt of having disappeared.
To complicate the fragile reunion, Callie's marriage to her husband, Jackson, is suddenly at risk, further muddled by the affections of (and attraction to) Paulie. Tensions and passions explode in the sweltering heat, and amid pain and tragedy, each woman not only ends up with a life-altering secret regarding the other, but the burning question of what to do with it.
Crooked Moon is a story about us all. As a writer, I attempt to show our strengths and weaknesses, the validity and the hypocrisy of our convictions, the resiliency of our spirit, and the humor and humanity in our adversity.
http://www.whispersofthemuse.org/Auth...
The first three chapter of my YA novel, Squalor, New Mexico are also available on this site.
Hope everyone is surviving the winter!
Happy Reading,
Lisette
December 13, 2009
WHISPERS OF THE MUSE: Holiday Gift-Giving Guide 2009
Hello Friends:
My novels, CROOKED MOON and SQUALOR, NEW MEXICO, have both been included in Whispers of the Muse 2009 Holiday Gift-Giving Guide.
Lots of good reads are listed by many authors. Hope you'll check it out!
http://www.whispersofthemuse.org/Gift...
Happy Holidays to all!
Lisette
My novels, CROOKED MOON and SQUALOR, NEW MEXICO, have both been included in Whispers of the Muse 2009 Holiday Gift-Giving Guide.
Lots of good reads are listed by many authors. Hope you'll check it out!
http://www.whispersofthemuse.org/Gift...
Happy Holidays to all!
Lisette
November 28, 2009
WHISPERS OF THE MUSE INTERVIEW: November 29, 2009
Hello Friends:
I recently conducted an interview with Deborah Riley-Magnus at Whispers of the Muse.
If you'd like to read my interview about the writing life or perhaps read a few sample chapters of my new Young Adult novel Squalor, New Mexico, here's the link:
http://www.whispersofthemuse.org/Auth...
Best wishes to all.
Happy Reading,
Lisette
I recently conducted an interview with Deborah Riley-Magnus at Whispers of the Muse.
If you'd like to read my interview about the writing life or perhaps read a few sample chapters of my new Young Adult novel Squalor, New Mexico, here's the link:
http://www.whispersofthemuse.org/Auth...
Best wishes to all.
Happy Reading,
Lisette
October 17, 2009
WHY DOES YOUR BOOK HAVE SUCH A WEIRD TITLE?
Okay, I’ll admit it. My recently published Young Adult/General Fiction novel, SQUALOR, NEW MEXICO, has a downright bizarre title, especially since it’s only peripherally about squalor and not at all about New Mexico.
The seed for the title/book began in my childhood. Every time I heard it said that someone lived in squalor, it sounded like a place to me. For years, I had the identical notion every time I heard the word: “Is Squalor a town?” “Is it a city?” “Where is it?” The word “squalor” nagged at me. The universe and the word were trying to tell me something. (“Write a novel! Write a novel!”)
It was then that I decided that I wanted to begin a novel with the sentence: “My aunt lived in Squalor.” I had no idea who the main character would be, who her aunt would be and why said aunt would live in Squalor, but it all began from there. I built a 159,000-word book (445-pages) completely around my desire to use that opening sentence. Though it is not specifically stated, the book is set in the 1970s in an east coast suburb.
The first page of the book explains the unusual title:
My aunt Rebecca lived in Squalor. I first heard my mother and my aunt Didi discussing this one day when I was nine. I was supposed to be in my bedroom doing homework, but I snuck down the back stairs into the kitchen for a McIntosh apple and an Oreo cookie. Mom and Aunt Didi were close by in the dining room, huddled together at the corner of the table, as they often were, and they were talking about Aunt Rebecca. To me, the most curious thing about Aunt Rebecca, whom I had never met, was that Mom and Aunt Didi only brought her up when they thought no one was listening.
“I’m sure she’s still living in squalor,” Aunt Didi told Mom authoritatively. “Unless she’s screwed her way out!”
I had no idea what all that meant, but it seemed like such an odd thing to say that I was willing to take the risk of letting my presence be known and ask.
“What’s squalor, Mom?” I said, walking into the dining room.
“Goodness, Darla!” Mom said putting her hand to her throat. “How long have you been listening?”
“Not long. I just came down for an apple.” (I thought it best not to mention the cookie.) “What’s squalor, Mom?” I repeated.
Aunt Didi, knowing Mom would be loath to answer my question, took hold of the reins for her. “It’s a town in New Mexico, Darla. It’s an Indian name.”
Mom looked at Aunt Didi in amazement. I figured she hadn’t known what it meant, either.
“Oh,” I said. And then I took a bite out of my apple.
“You have a book report due tomorrow,” Mom said.
“I know,” I said, taking another bite.
“Well, you’re not going to get it done standing here, are you?”
“I guess not,” I replied reluctantly. “All right, I’m going. Mom?”
“Yes, Darla?” she asked impatiently.
“What did Aunt Didi mean about—”
“Please dear,” Mom pleaded softly. “Go upstairs and finish your—”
“But Mom, I really want to know what—”
“Darla!” Aunt Didi screamed. “Listen to your mother. Go upstairs, now, and finish your book report!”
“All right. Forget it!” I said indignantly. “How am I supposed to learn stuff if I don’t ask?”
So, friends, now you know. SQUALOR, NEW MEXICO began as a lie told to a child to quell her curiosity and ended up being the unlikely symbol for all of the lies, secrets and twisted truths that can destroy a family. It is a coming-of-age story shrouded in family mystery, and yes, I’ll admit it: it has a very strange title.
SQUALOR, NEW MEXICO is available on Amazon.com. It can also be purchased at my website: www.lisettebrodey.com. My first-published novel, CROOKED MOON, was released in 2008.
Gullivera, who resides on the rocks in Malibu, CA, enjoys her copy of SQUALOR, NEW MEXICO.
The seed for the title/book began in my childhood. Every time I heard it said that someone lived in squalor, it sounded like a place to me. For years, I had the identical notion every time I heard the word: “Is Squalor a town?” “Is it a city?” “Where is it?” The word “squalor” nagged at me. The universe and the word were trying to tell me something. (“Write a novel! Write a novel!”)
It was then that I decided that I wanted to begin a novel with the sentence: “My aunt lived in Squalor.” I had no idea who the main character would be, who her aunt would be and why said aunt would live in Squalor, but it all began from there. I built a 159,000-word book (445-pages) completely around my desire to use that opening sentence. Though it is not specifically stated, the book is set in the 1970s in an east coast suburb.
The first page of the book explains the unusual title:
My aunt Rebecca lived in Squalor. I first heard my mother and my aunt Didi discussing this one day when I was nine. I was supposed to be in my bedroom doing homework, but I snuck down the back stairs into the kitchen for a McIntosh apple and an Oreo cookie. Mom and Aunt Didi were close by in the dining room, huddled together at the corner of the table, as they often were, and they were talking about Aunt Rebecca. To me, the most curious thing about Aunt Rebecca, whom I had never met, was that Mom and Aunt Didi only brought her up when they thought no one was listening.
“I’m sure she’s still living in squalor,” Aunt Didi told Mom authoritatively. “Unless she’s screwed her way out!”
I had no idea what all that meant, but it seemed like such an odd thing to say that I was willing to take the risk of letting my presence be known and ask.
“What’s squalor, Mom?” I said, walking into the dining room.
“Goodness, Darla!” Mom said putting her hand to her throat. “How long have you been listening?”
“Not long. I just came down for an apple.” (I thought it best not to mention the cookie.) “What’s squalor, Mom?” I repeated.
Aunt Didi, knowing Mom would be loath to answer my question, took hold of the reins for her. “It’s a town in New Mexico, Darla. It’s an Indian name.”
Mom looked at Aunt Didi in amazement. I figured she hadn’t known what it meant, either.
“Oh,” I said. And then I took a bite out of my apple.
“You have a book report due tomorrow,” Mom said.
“I know,” I said, taking another bite.
“Well, you’re not going to get it done standing here, are you?”
“I guess not,” I replied reluctantly. “All right, I’m going. Mom?”
“Yes, Darla?” she asked impatiently.
“What did Aunt Didi mean about—”
“Please dear,” Mom pleaded softly. “Go upstairs and finish your—”
“But Mom, I really want to know what—”
“Darla!” Aunt Didi screamed. “Listen to your mother. Go upstairs, now, and finish your book report!”
“All right. Forget it!” I said indignantly. “How am I supposed to learn stuff if I don’t ask?”
So, friends, now you know. SQUALOR, NEW MEXICO began as a lie told to a child to quell her curiosity and ended up being the unlikely symbol for all of the lies, secrets and twisted truths that can destroy a family. It is a coming-of-age story shrouded in family mystery, and yes, I’ll admit it: it has a very strange title.
SQUALOR, NEW MEXICO is available on Amazon.com. It can also be purchased at my website: www.lisettebrodey.com. My first-published novel, CROOKED MOON, was released in 2008.
Gullivera, who resides on the rocks in Malibu, CA, enjoys her copy of SQUALOR, NEW MEXICO.
March 20, 2009
SQUALOR, NEW MEXICO & CROOKED MOON
Greetings Goodreads friends:
On March 18th, 2009, I published my novel, SQUALOR, NEW MEXICO on Amazon.com in the Kindle (eBook) edition. (Note: The paperback edition of SQUALOR, NEW MEXICO was published in June 2009.)
While this will be my second-published novel, it is actually my first-written book. For reasons that are valid or invalid (only time will tell), I chose to publish my second novel, CROOKED MOON, as my debut novel.
Let me tell you a little bit about SQUALOR, NEW MEXICO:
On March 18th, 2009, I published my novel, SQUALOR, NEW MEXICO on Amazon.com in the Kindle (eBook) edition. (Note: The paperback edition of SQUALOR, NEW MEXICO was published in June 2009.)
While this will be my second-published novel, it is actually my first-written book. For reasons that are valid or invalid (only time will tell), I chose to publish my second novel, CROOKED MOON, as my debut novel.
Let me tell you a little bit about SQUALOR, NEW MEXICO:
Darla McKendrick is nine when she first hears her mother and her aunt Didi secretly discussing their younger sister, Rebecca, speculating about her life in squalor. From the moment Darla asks to know more about her mysterious aunt, she is offered nothing but half-truths, distortions, and evasions. As Darla grows into her teen years, her life is oddly yet profoundly affected by this woman she has never known. She can’t help but notice that Rebecca seems to exist only in dark corners of conversations and that no one ever wants to talk about her—with Darla. Neither Darla nor her three cousins have a clue about their aunt, yet their respective parents appear to recoil in fear at the sound of her name.
SQUALOR, NEW MEXICO is a coming-of-age story shrouded in family mystery. As the plot takes twists and turns, secrets are revealed not only to Darla but to the “secret keepers” as well. Darla learns that families are only as strong as the truths they hold and as weak as the secrets they keep.
****************************************************
For those who might be interested in my current novel, CROOKED MOON, here's a synopsis:
As children, Frankie Cavalese and Callie Mason were the very best of friends, growing up together on opposite walls of a row home in a blue-collar neighborhood of Philadelphia called Rainytown. The friendship they shared was special - the kind that storybook heroines had - and neither ever considered the possibility of it not lasting forever. But after high school, life interfered and circumstances separated them as they each went on to live drastically different lives.
Twenty-three years later, one hot Rainytown summer, the lives of these women suddenly come crashing back together. To complicate the fragile reunion, Callie's marriage is suddenly at risk, further complicated by the affections of (and attraction to) Frankie's brother, Paulie. Tensions and passions explode in the sweltering heat, and amidst pain and tragedy, each woman not only ends up with a life-altering secret regarding the other, but the burning question of what to do with it.
Thank you all for taking the time to read about my novels. I wish each and every one of you the very best of luck with your own personal endeavors, and always,
Happy Reading!
Lisette
