Mara Purl's Blog, page 7

Book Tour – The Splendid Barnes & Noble

Still on the road . . . an author on tour . . . the old-fashioned show-up-in-person kind of book tour, not to be confused with the virtual blog tour I did last August. During the blog tour I reached 17 million readers; during this road tour I'll probably reach a one-hundredth, or even a one-thousandth that number. Yet how can we measure the difference between viewing a web image and looking into someone's eyes? Each experience has its particular magic, but nothing replaces the authenticity of an author up-close-and-personal.

As I mentioned in my last post "The Amazing Indies," this tour includes a mix of indies and major chains. Given that some large chains don't populate the Western states, and that Borders has sadly disappeared, during this tour my chain store events were all in Barnes & Noble stores. We may complain about the big-box infestation, the sameness from store to store, the fact that some employees tend to rely on computer searches to find a desired title, rather than drawing upon their own knowledge of books. Yet as I travel and also review past experiences with B&N, there are qualities of excellence to counterbalance the negatives. The stores are beautifully designed. Stairs and lofts, seating and play areas, cafes and a well-appointed display of the fantastic Nook E-Reader in all its versions and with its multi-colored covers . . . well, it's a shopper's paradise. Perhaps more importantly, you can actually browse stack after stack of books, rack after rack of magazines, and move from genre to genre in a delicious world-expanding experience that is both mental and physical.

I mean, it's swell to have a gazillion titles searchable on-line, and we need that, too. But after a while, all the little tiny rectangles of data-reduced book covers begin to look exactly the same to me and I can feel myself edging toward "tilt." In a real bookstore, all five senses are stimulated—and this is also a mandate of Women's Fiction, by the way, so I'm constantly aware of sight and sound, smell and taste, and touch. It's truly a sensory experience to touch books, the satiny dust-cover and the heavy linen cloth-bound; to inhale the aroma of fresh pages as the book is opened; to hear the sough of pages; to assess the glossy foil stamped versus the subtle matte finish.

B&N stores are busy community centers. Some customers arrive on a mission, making a bee-line for the product they need. Others wander in to browse and sip a latte, since B&N brilliantly pairs with Starbucks. On a corporate level, imagine what it takes to create a standard of excellence demonstrated in every one of its thousands of branches. It's a huge mission, and one that is largely fulfilled.

When I arrived at the B&N in Albuquerque, New Mexico, my table with a cloth to match my book covers, a huge standing sign, beautifully stacked copies of my hardcover book and a collection of pens awaited me. Bookseller and events coordinator Sally Newcomb was concurrently managing at least three simultaneous events in her store, yet I was welcomed, expected, and tended—including the hand delivery of my own steaming hot latte. Since I was placed near the front door, I actually never got a chance to sit down, and signed my books, shook hands, answered questions and told stories on my feet, my two-hour slot flying by. At the B&N in Scottsdale, Arizona, bookseller/events manager Larry Siegel had set up a display table facing rows of chairs in an area of the store he carved out for my event. Beautiful signs were everywhere, including in the store's foyer, and as my publicist was able to attend this one, she rounded up guests from other parts of the store. Here again, the store was a center for multiple events, my favorite being the book club discussion on A Tale of Two Cities in the opposite corner from me. (Since Dickens is a favorite, and I also write a serial format, I'd have loved to have the other group join ours for some interesting cross-talk.)

By far the most important thing I'm getting from this part of my book tour is the value of booksellers. They're the link between authors and readers, the translators who can channel a reader's vague wish into a satisfied quest, the individuals who make it possible to go home with a book you'll truly enjoy, having discovered an author whose writing makes a difference in your life. As I waved goodbye after my signing, I looked up at the Barnes & Noble sign. It doesn't say Bookstore. It says Booksellers. That was a great "aha" moment.

As a reminder . . . it's almost Valentine's Day, and What the Heart Knows is a heart book—a perfect Valentine's gift for someone special . . . like you! Each of the B&N stores I visited on my tour asked me to sign extra books, and they're waiting for you. Barnes & Noble is a valuable resource, and will remain so no matter how much commerce is transacted on the internet. Sometimes, we need a place to go in person.

For more information on the changes that are taking place with The Milford Haven Novels, please read my newsletter. If you have not subscribed, visit www.MaraPurl.com to have my newsletter sent to your mailbox every month.

Book Tour-The Amazing Indies

I write this from the road . . . an author on tour again . . . this time through the Western States of Colorado, New Mexico and Arizona. [If you'd like to follow my tour, visit the Milford-Haven Novels Facebook page, where the whole tour is detailed.]

Some tours are accomplished by hopping from city to city by plane. This time it's a road trip, with the special joy that my husband is traveling with me. True, it's a lot of driving—about 2,000 miles by the time it concludes. But we're traveling through some of the most spectacular scenery on the planet. We're either listening to excellent audio books or having good conversations. And along the way, we're meeting some of the greatest folks in the book business.

The tour takes me to a mix of small and large bookstores, and a cross section of indies and major chains. Honestly, I love them all for different reasons. In this posting, I want to celebrate the independent bookstores and the booksellers who make them work. From the moment you walk through the doors of an indie store, you're greeted with the same kind of individuality you find when you visit a private home. Styles and colors, layout and displays, sections and flow, are distinctly different from one store to the next. Some are lavish with their allocation of space; for some, the spaces are intimate per force.

My tour started at the Tattered Cover's third store, an expansive retreat in Highlands Ranch, a Denver, Colorado suburb. For an author, a signing at TC signifies achievement of a key landmark. I knew it for sure when I was greeted by Jinx McDonald, who's been their event coordinator since the branch opened its doors seven years ago. She wears her aura of wisdom humbly, but she easily demonstrated her knowledge of books, author events, and human nature with the unassuming grace of a master. As I left that evening, after a fond farewell she promised, "We'll sell more of your books for you." And I knew I now had an important ally.

My next stop was Moby Dickens in Taos, New Mexico, a store that radiates charm and resembles a lovely home to which you desperately want an invitation to afternoon tea. The name alone probably would've done it for me—I write about whales and write serial stories like Charles Dickens, after all. But then the lovely event coordinator Alberta Boykin won my heart when she chose to serve cinnamon buns at my event. Why? Because that's how I knew she'd read my book in advance, and chosen a recipe from its pages. Needless to say, she and her team of booksellers made me and all the readers who attended feel like special guests.

Next was The Worm Books & Music in Sedona, Arizona, a sparkling jewel of a store tucked into a designer-mall, a place luminous with the special light of that spectacular region, and welcoming in its hand-picked selection of both national and local books. Owner Michael Eich was an expansively generous host, offering me, my publicist, and all who attended a comfortable seating area and lovely background music. What might've been most telling about The Worm was that all the other nearby shop owners stopped by, obviously trusting that any author he invited would be of interest.

Another favorite of mine is The Book Haven in Salida, Colorado, where I did a group signing last summer. And the last indie on this tour will be the Book Loft in Solvang, California, long a favorite destination of mine, and a place I'll be thrilled to visit soon (Monday February 13th).

All these stores belong to Indie Bound, a marvelous organization whose mission is to help people all across the country find and share independently owned businesses. As they put it, they're "working to strengthen the health of Main Street ecosystems." Nothing could be a better match for my novels, which focus on life in a small town full of independently-minded individuals who own businesses. So I truly love the Indie Bound mission.

As a reminder . . . it's almost Valentine's Day, and What the Heart Knows is nothing if not a heart book—a perfect Valentine's gift for someone special . . . like you! Each of the stores I visited or will visit on my tour asked me to sign extra books, and they're waiting for you at your local bookstore. The world is a better place because of indie bookstores. Let's keep supporting them so they can support us.

For more information on the changes that are taking place with The Milford Haven Novels, please read my newsletter. If you have not subscribed, visit

www.MaraPurl.com to have my newsletter sent to your mailbox every month.

　

Magical Dragon of China

This month I've been focusing on the universally iconic figure of the dragon. (See my last two posts: Happy Dragon of Wales and The Dragon and the Heroine's Journey.) So here's the third and final musing. Fittingly, today's offering is about the mythical dragon of China on the actual date of the Chinese Year of the Dragon.

In Asia, the year of the dragon is cause for great celebration, for the dragon represents exuberant, dynamic creativity, as well as potent powers including control over water. And it's a symbol of strength and good luck. In energy-flow terms, the dragon is yang, with its counterpart being the yin Phoenix. The dragon symbol often represents the Emperor, while the Phoenix represents the Empress. Historically, coil-shaped jade badges have been excavated and dated as early as 4700 BC. And in 300 BC a record documents the discovery of dinosaur or "dragon" bones, and the Chinese word for dinosaur is translated as "terrible dragon."

There are interesting distinctions between the Occidental and Oriental version of the dragon. In the West, the dragon has wings and breaths fire. In the East, the dragon is serpentine and without wings, but with multiple sets of feet that have particular significance in an elaborate hierarchy of metaphor. Where in the West, we tend to think of the red dragon as a symbol of evil, something to be defeated, in the East, people celebrate the red dragon's power, embracing its qualities as useful and practical. And while the West's dragon manifests aggression, the East's symbolizes culture and sophistication.

One quality shared by both Eastern and Western dragons is their magical capabilities. According to story and legend, the Chinese dragon can shape-shift, acquiring the forms of other animals, or humans, and of water in its many iterations. Perhaps one of the most potent gift of this Asian icon is its ability to make things appear.

So, in this new year of the dragon, how will we go about manifesting that which we desire in our lives? If we stick to logic, we'll have goals, charts, schedules, plans, strategies, logistics, and all the meetings and technologies needed to enact everything we hope to achieve. This is certainly the "head" approach, and it has great validity. We tend to trust this approach with its quantifiable results. We can take these results "to the bank," advertise our "proven reliability," and back up each venture with a solidly logical thesis.

But what about that which is illogical? A dragon that doesn't actually exist, yet is invoked as a symbol of power isn't logical. Yet as a metaphor, it helps us access the inexplicable, reminding us to make room in our lives for that which we cannot predict. Since I grew up in Asia, I have some experience with this dragon. At age nine, while walking to class across the campus of the American School in Japan, I was interrupted by a request to come directly to the Principal's office. At that moment, this seemed as terrifying as a dragon rearing its head right in front of me. Instead, however, it turned out that a scout from NHK television had seem me in a school play, and was inviting me to audition for a new series. I got the part, and for the next few years performed in an English-language drama designed to assist Japanese students. It was an honor to work with experienced professionals, a thrill to reach so many fellow students from another culture, and the beginning of a television career.

It was also an element of magic. I didn't actually do anything to make that audition happen. I just pursued what I loved and enjoyed that potent child-wonder that knows special things can and do occur. It's the kind of heart-knowledge that turns out to be so valuable in the grown-up world. It's what makes us pursue unusual ideas, and ask ourselves, "why not?" It's the quality that made J.K. Rowling write down her unlikely story idea (think Harry Potter); that made Buckminster Fuller think outside the square and instead use the triangle as his building block (think geodesic dome); and that made me create a radio drama when everyone told me radio drama had been over and done for decades (think Milford-Haven USA). This year, let's use our heads to create fantastic plans; then let's open our hearts to see what kind of magic the dragon will bring.

For more information on the changes that are taking place with The Milford Haven Novels, please read my newsletter. If you have not subscribed, visit www.MaraPurl.com to have my newsletter sent to your mailbox every month.

Happy Dragon of Wales

In this new Year of the Dragon, here's my second musing on this mythological figure that has so many versions in different cultures. This time I honor my own ancestral beast, the happy dragon of Wales. I say "happy" because to me the beautifully exuberant creature emblazoned on the flag of Wales represents courage and energy, and an unstoppable drive to achieve the goal.

One of the qualities of this dragon is surely his magic—he breaths fire, he flies through the air, he journeys through time. So perhaps this sense of magic is one of the things we need to invoke when we have a goal in mind. Another of its qualities is action—this is not a dragon at rest, but "passant" or traveling. He's on the move, and this is another thing we must invoke to achieve our goals.

British lore has it that the red dragon at length defeated a white dragon, symbolizing the victory of the Welsh people over the Saxons. The red dragon is also a prophecy of the coming of King Arthur, whose father was Uther Pendragon, or "Chief Dragon." The red dragon became part of Henry VII's flag for the house of Tudor, and centuries later in 1953 Henry's Red Dragon badge received a circular motto: "Y Ddraig Goch Ddyry Cychwyn" or "The Red Dragon Inspires Action."

The dragon must have been with me when I created my fictitious town of Milford-Haven. I'd written numerous scripts for television, several of which were rejected, but later copied and produced. (The dragon wasn't happy about that, and neither was I.) So I took action. I realized how much I loved radio drama. Not only was it a vibrant, creative medium; it could be produced for a smaller budget, and well-known actors could squeeze in their performances between longer commitments. When a summer of performing in the play Sea Marks in the coastal town of Cambria sparked my love affair with California's Central Coast, the seeds of the story were sewn. By the way, I played a character from Wales. The dragon must've been at work even then. I wrote the scripts. Amazing actors said yes to joining the cast. I found the perfect studio, engineer, foley artist, and composers. The show became a hit locally. And then, something inexplicably extraordinary happened. The BBC heard about the show, and it became the first American radio serial ever broadcast on this renowned network.

Indeed, the journey of Milford-Haven is nothing less than magical. The first time I became aware of the the red dragon, it was because the flag of Wales was presented to me on a most remarkable trip. Milford-Haven U.S.A. had just become a hit on BBC radio with over 4 million listeners. The original town of Milford Haven, on the west coast of Wales, has a long, rich history of its own. It had first come to my attention when I performed in Shakespeare's Cymbelline. I played the heroine Imogen who receives a letter from her beloved asking her to "meet me in Cambria, in Milford Haven." Since my fictitious town was based loosely upon the California town of Cambria (itself, named for Wales), I knew I'd found the perfect name for my radio show.

What I didn't know was that the original town was engaged at that moment in a campaign to attract tourism. By creating a successful radio program I was helping them. In return, the town fathers and mothers invited me for a visit filled with magic. On the first day, I was given a parade down Main Street—a charming lane of appealing shops that uncannily resembled my fictitious one. On the second evening, I was given a reception in the equivalent of their Town Hall—an occasion filled with ceremony and history. I walked under crossed swords; I was rung into the room by a gentleman in a powdered wig; I was presented with the keys to the city. Fortunately, I'd had a silver tray engraved—from Milford-Haven to Milford Haven—so I had something to give these generous people!

This amazing journey, and the debut of Milford-Haven U.S.A., happened in 1992. So for me, the dragon's reappearing in 2012 is the signal to celebrate twenty years of Milford-Haven—its cast and crew, its musicians and sound effects wizards, its artists and writing, and of course its further telling in the new novels. Perhaps when my own ancestors left Wales, a baby dragon went with them. And when it grew up, it breathed fire on my kindling imagination, inspiring me to write a story that would bring us both back to Wales on bright red wings.

For more information on the changes that are taking place with The Milford Haven Novels, please read my newsletter. If you have not subscribed, visit

www.MaraPurl.com

to have my newsletter sent to your mailbox every month.

The Dragon and the Heroine’s Journey

Since this is the Year of the Dragon, I’ve been doing some meditating on this iconic figure. Actually, the lore is so rich, I’ll be writing about it three times this month, beginning today.

The Hero’s Journey always has a specific goal, and a major obstacle: a dragon to be slain. In most Occidental tales, the dragon is quite literal: a fire-breathing reptile with towering strength, powerful wings and fearsome teeth ready to devour.

While I was a college student, I was also working as a performer in New York City, where I had the honor to be part of a production at The Open Eye, a theatre owned by Joseph Campbell and his wife Jean Erdman. Jean was a well-known dancer and choreographer. Joseph was the respected author  of The Hero with a Thousand Faces, and later went on to become an iconic figure in his own right as the subject of multiple interview series including those with Bill Moyers for PBS television.

Joseph was the originator of the now universally famous advice to “follow your bliss.” His multi-cultural spiritual and myth studies became foundational to the Star Wars films as a result of George Lucas’s ongoing consults with Campbell. And he was among the most delightful persons in the world. Conversations with him were at once natural and inspiring, comfortable and riveting.

From James Joyce’s Finnegans Wake—a book he loved and also knew intimately because from it Jean created an Obie-winning dance-drama The Coach with the Six Insides—Joseph borrowed the word monomyth, another term for the hero’s journey. What he discerned was a commonality amongst the myths and stories from many cultures, siting the structure and the particular chapters that are its landmarks.

The journey often begins when the hero least expects. Enmeshed in the details of his mundane existence, he (or she) receives a “call to adventure.” Some heros rush forward to gain the prize, which may be nothing more than a vague longing at first. Like Theseus, they vanquish the Minotaur and gain a kingdom, or like Bill Gates they create an empire with apparent ease. Some heros resist the adventure with all their might, and wind up a Jonas in the belly of the whale, an Odysseus, tossed on the seas for many years; or a late bloomer like Julia Child, first published at 50, or Colonel Sanders who created his franchise at age 65. Some refuse the call all together, at which point the adventure turns negative—Lot’s wife, mesmerized by the past, turned into a pillar of salt.

For those who answer the call, something fantastic happens. The universe begins to conspire on the side of the hero or heroine, providing guides, magical helpers, angels, tools, and signs to mark the path—signs that might not make sense to anyone else.

This is a good thing, for the journey is fraught with dangers. Somewhere along the line, there’s always a temptation. (Among the many meanings of my first name, “Mara” is named as the last temptress sent to distract Buddha before he attained Nirvana.) And, of course, inevitably the hero will face his or her own personal dragon, usually when many other challenges have already been met and the goal is at hand.

So what is this dragon? I think it’s fear. Maybe we could say it’s F.E.A.R.—False Evidence Appearing Real. When its component parts are disassembled like a Transformer toy, and the appearition is stripped of substance, what qualities does it really represent? None. It really has no history, no reality, no substance. It’s a “nothing”—a mythical, imaginary non-existence beast—swollen into “something”—an overwhelming fear probably left over from childhood monsters imagined beneath the bed.

So what’s your dragon? Will it take head or heart to slay it? For me, it’ll take both. It’ll take a total commitment to the heroine’s journey. In this year of the dragon, let’s hear the call to adventure and vanquish our fears.

For more information on the changes that are taking place with The Milford Haven Novels, please read my newsletter. If you have not subscribed, visit www.MaraPurl.com to have my newsletter sent to your mailbox every month.

The Dragon and the Heroine's Journey

Since this is the Year of the Dragon, I've been doing some meditating on this iconic figure. Actually, the lore is so rich, I'll be writing about it three times this month, beginning today.

The Hero's Journey always has a specific goal, and a major obstacle: a dragon to be slain. In most Occidental tales, the dragon is quite literal: a fire-breathing reptile with towering strength, powerful wings and fearsome teeth ready to devour.

While I was a college student, I was also working as a performer in New York City, where I had the honor to be part of a production at The Open Eye, a theatre owned by Joseph Campbell and his wife Jean Erdman. Jean was a well-known dancer and choreographer. Joseph was the respected author  of The Hero with a Thousand Faces, and later went on to become an iconic figure in his own right as the subject of multiple interview series including those with Bill Moyers for PBS television.

Joseph was the originator of the now universally famous advice to "follow your bliss." His multi-cultural spiritual and myth studies became foundational to the Star Wars films as a result of George Lucas's ongoing consults with Campbell. And he was among the most delightful persons in the world. Conversations with him were at once natural and inspiring, comfortable and riveting.

From James Joyce's Finnegans Wake—a book he loved and also knew intimately because from it Jean created an Obie-winning dance-drama The Coach with the Six Insides—Joseph borrowed the word monomyth, another term for the hero's journey. What he discerned was a commonality amongst the myths and stories from many cultures, siting the structure and the particular chapters that are its landmarks.

The journey often begins when the hero least expects. Enmeshed in the details of his mundane existence, he (or she) receives a "call to adventure." Some heros rush forward to gain the prize, which may be nothing more than a vague longing at first. Like Theseus, they vanquish the Minotaur and gain a kingdom, or like Bill Gates they create an empire with apparent ease. Some heros resist the adventure with all their might, and wind up a Jonas in the belly of the whale, an Odysseus, tossed on the seas for many years; or a late bloomer like Julia Child, first published at 50, or Colonel Sanders who created his franchise at age 65. Some refuse the call all together, at which point the adventure turns negative—Lot's wife, mesmerized by the past, turned into a pillar of salt.

For those who answer the call, something fantastic happens. The universe begins to conspire on the side of the hero or heroine, providing guides, magical helpers, angels, tools, and signs to mark the path—signs that might not make sense to anyone else.

This is a good thing, for the journey is fraught with dangers. Somewhere along the line, there's always a temptation. (Among the many meanings of my first name, "Mara" is named as the last temptress sent to distract Buddha before he attained Nirvana.) And, of course, inevitably the hero will face his or her own personal dragon, usually when many other challenges have already been met and the goal is at hand.

So what is this dragon? I think it's fear. Maybe we could say it's F.E.A.R.—False Evidence Appearing Real. When its component parts are disassembled like a Transformer toy, and the appearition is stripped of substance, what qualities does it really represent? None. It really has no history, no reality, no substance. It's a "nothing"—a mythical, imaginary non-existence beast—swollen into "something"—an overwhelming fear probably left over from childhood monsters imagined beneath the bed.

So what's your dragon? Will it take head or heart to slay it? For me, it'll take both. It'll take a total commitment to the heroine's journey. In this year of the dragon, let's hear the call to adventure and vanquish our fears.

For more information on the changes that are taking place with The Milford Haven Novels, please read my newsletter. If you have not subscribed, visit www.MaraPurl.com to have my newsletter sent to your mailbox every month.

Happy New Orbit!

What kicks off the new year celebrated so avidly around the globe is a gift given by the universe itself—a new orbit. In fact, my character Cornelius Smith and my friend Laurance Doyle —both of whom are astronomers—give this as their annual greeting. "Happy New Orbit!" Makes me smile every time.

Fresh starts . . . a clean slate . . . infinite possibilities. . . . The precious sense that all things are new again is valued throughout the world. Some of us want almost everything to change; some of us probably want a few things to change. And most of us desire a sense of progress so we create a theme or a list to help us establish the landmarks of transformation.

Like most folks, I have my rituals. First, I give my office a deep cleaning. This is when the long-ignored-and-now-mysterious stacks of papers, magazines and file folders are sorted: shredding and recycling here, filing and donating there. Surprising how few "action items" come out of these stacks. Yet some treasures emerge too. Almost nothing goes into landfill, so this is a good planet-project. Second, the new day-planner and notebooks get unsealed and readied for use. Ahh, the fresh pages! From blank sheets to calendar grids, from goal lists to favorite quotes and graphics, these are the special tools that will gradually fill with tasks completed, victories won, and surprises unpredictable. These are the things my head likes to do at the new year's beginning.

So what does my heart like to do at the start of each new orbit? It wants to go for a walk. And my heart's favorite walk is along the shore with mountains on one side and ocean on the other. I've often asked myself why this particular geography speaks so palpably to my heart. What I've come up with so far is that the land and mountains represent that which is formed, solid, and worth climbing toward; the ocean and shoreline represent the vast sea of possibility where it touches my understanding. I don't do much talking on these walks. I mostly listen. One thing I always hear is the gratitude list, which for 2011 was astounding. Milestones include: first hardcover novel; first Kindle short-story best-seller; second Kindle short-story best-seller; and reaching 17 million reader during my August blog tour.

There are two things I can think of that both head and heart love to do as the year commences. One is to attend the Fire Sacrament service as my husband's church. On tiny pieces of treated paper, the congregation is invited to write down a word representing something we'd like to get rid of. Then we walk to the front and hold the minuscule sheet over a flame, at which point is instantly combusts and disappears in a tiny puff of smoke. The gorgeously simple and profound ceremony always provides a perfect visualization of something unwanted disappearing into its native nothingness.

The other head-heart activity that always inspires is writing the Milford-Haven Novels. There's the private side of it: solitude and focus as I listen and hear my characters think and talk, challenge them with fresh circumstances, and interweave their stories. And there's the public side: dialoguing with readers on www.GoodReads.com and www.Shelfari.com; answering questions at book events; sharing news through my newsletters; replying to comments on this blog.

What's so exciting about the author-reader connection is that our orbits overlap. So thanks for letting me be part of your orbit this year, and thanks for joining mine. It's going to be an extraordinary year in Milford-Haven, which truly has an orbit of its own that is meant just for you. So join me and my characters for a happy new orbit. . . in Milford-Haven!

For more information on the changes that are taking place with The Milford Haven Novels, please read my newsletter. If you have not subscribed, visit www.MaraPurl.com to have my newsletter sent to your mailbox every month.

The Magic of Christmas Boxes

Much as I adore Christmas, I love Boxing Day almost as much. First, it's a Christmas-extender, just like the 23rd is—a date I refer to as Christmas-Eve-Eve.

December 26th is Boxing Day with a wonderful tradition of its own. Observed in the U.K., Canada, Australia and New Zealand, it started as a day following Christmas when aristocrats, tasked with the welfare of those who worked on their estates, delivered boxes of food and gifts. In South Africa, the occasion evolved into the renamed Day of Goodwill in 1994, and in Ireland it's called St. Stephen's Day. The European tradition of giving gifts and money to those in need dates back to the Middle Ages. In Japan, where I grew up in an international community, the lines blurred as New Year's approached, traditionally a time of gift-giving and debt-settling.

Whatever its multiple and evolving origins, there just seems to be something magical about a Christmas box. What might it contain? Something old? Something new? Something significant? Something trivial? A thing of beauty or usefulness? A prize long-awaited, or a gift of whimsy impulsively chosen?

Before the holiday, I always feel like a Santa's elf when I place a gift in a box. The crinkle of the colorful tissue, the snap of the wrapping paper, the twist of the ribbons, the placement of the gift tag . . . all the while I'm grinning and chortling to myself, imagining the fun the recipient will have opening the box. After the holiday, out come the storage boxes, which themselves gradually attain a significance as holders of family memories. Ornaments here . . . lights there . . . stockings in this box, angels in that one. Away they go, carefully wrapped until their shining countenances reappear, a bit wiser with yet another Christmas under their wings. Angels inspire me so much I wrote some holiday short stories, among them Whose Angel Key Ring, still available now for free on your Kindle, or for a small fee on your Nook.

The twinkling lights, the scented pine, the thick red candles, the red velvet pillows, all go into their special containers. For me, the angels are the last to be packed. The cherub regarding the dove alighting on its knee; the golden Gabriel blowing his trumpet; the glinting metallic Angelica presiding from the tree top . . . each has its own message, heard a little more clearly in the silence that seems to engulf the house after the holiday hubbub. The Christmas music begins to fade and the last of the eggnog is consumed. The labeled boxes are placed carefully on their storage shelves.

Christmas is a heart-time, and as the red-gold sun sets on Boxing Day, the head seems to be intruding again with its logic and its timetable. But never fear. Like good emotional investments, the memory-treasures stored only increase in value each year in the magical boxes of Christmas.

For more information on the changes that are taking place with The Milford Haven Novels, please read my newsletter. If you have not subscribed, visit www.MaraPurl.com to have my newsletter sent to your mailbox every month.

Women, Books & Jewelry

I've known for a long time that there's a connection between women and jewelry. In fact, that's probably a connection I made at about age three. Was that when I first admired Mommy's shiny baubles? Hmm. I think by then, I was actually asking for baubles of my own.

One of the earliest pieces to grace my collection was my very first charm bracelet. How I loved its shiny silver trinkets with their magical moving parts! Each time my parents took me someplace special, a new charm was added, until from every single link dangled a treasured memento: the Rockettes kicked up their legs all in a row; five candles poked through a birthday cake with pink enamel icing; a split oval twisted to become a heart. My love of jewelry has continued to evolve through the years, and has circled back to charms, which have themselves evolved. Though the classic dangling style are still to be found, the latest iteration are bead charms—just as much bling and delightful detail, but with a hole through the center which keeps the charms from clanking on keyboards and snagging on sweater.

It seems the love for charms even surfaced in my Christmas story Whose Angel Key Ring which was published as a short e-book last week for Kindle (FREE during the holidays), Nook, and all readers. Check out the cover image. There you'll see a dangling cherub by artist Mary Helsaple, which is nothing if not charming.

The most important thing about a charm, no matter its style, is the story it tells. When I look at my childhood charm bracelet, it's more than the shiny silver I enjoy. What comes back to me are my fifth birthday party; that night at Rockefeller Plaza with my parents and later, waking up just enough to feel Daddy carrying me to bed. My new charm bracelet commemorates more recent events—last year's lighthouse trip with my husband; the amazing weekend I spent with nine close women friends; and now—the first novel in my series.

On the face of things, a piece of jewelry is about decoration. We choose jewelry to enhance an outfit, bring out the lights in our eyes, draw attention to a good feature. But I have yet to ask a woman about a piece of jewelry—especially a really good one—without hearing a story. "My husband bought me this when our second daughter was born." "I found this on our trip to Rome." "This was handed down from my grandmother."

It was this inherent story-connection that inspired me to work with a jeweler to create a charm to coordinate with book one of my series. When my publishers and I were discussing the dingbat—the symbol to appear at the start of each chapter—I thought a seashell would best represent my coastal series. Then I realized that each book in the series should have its own shell. After plunging into seashell research, I discovered the uncannily perfect one for What the Heart Knows: the heart cockle shell. And this beautiful shell—heart-shaped, with beautiful curved ridges—that's the inspiration for the heart cockle charm.

On Sunday afternoon, what fun it was to watch guests arrive at All That Glitters, a beautiful jewelry store that's been doing business in Colorado Springs for forty-six years. Owner Cretee Nemmer had transformed her gleaming cases into seaside dioramas: shells rested atop turquoise tool, draped with pearls and aquamarines, abalone and blue tourmalines. Lighthouses rested atop the case that held a special display of slinky silver chains along which had been strung the brand-new silver heart-cockle charm.

Expressions on the guests' faces reflected eager curiosity, as though each was on a treasure hunt. Why were there books standing here and there on the cases? What was the connection to jewelry? And then they began to put the pieces together. The heart cockle isn't only a charm; it's the icon for What the Heart Knows, a symbol used as an ongoing visual from chapter to chapter, with an explanation given in the Colophon, a special page describing the graphical elements of the book.

At the back of the book there's another special page, titled "Secret Of the Shells." Remember what happens when you pick up a shell and hold it to your ear? Well, for those who read the Milford-Haven Novels, the literary shells allow you to listen to your heart. For perhaps the most important stories of all in Milford-Haven are those your own heart tells you.

For more information on the changes that are taking place with The Milford Haven Novels, please read my newsletter. If you have not subscribed, visit www.MaraPurl.com to have my newsletter sent to your mailbox every month.

My Holiday Story

The holidays richly contain many different kinds of segments. There's the decorating. Of course there's the shopping. There's the cooking. There's the card-writing. There are outings to visit family or friends. Sometimes there's travel. Sometimes there are house guests. Whatever the circumstances, there always seem to be elements of excitement and frustration, pressure and relaxation, laughter and sentimentality.

For me, there comes a moment sometime during the holidays when what I long for is the perfect book to read. I prowl the shelves and night stands searching for the perfect volume. If I don't find it at home, I start searching the bookstore or library shelves—or an e-reader store these days—until the right tale captures my attention.

Once I have the book in hand (downloaded or paper), I choose a spot to get comfy—maybe the living room couch which, during this season, is draped with an especially plush red blanket; maybe the den with its recliner and its cozy fireplace. Then, cup of Christmas-tea sweetened with honey close by, I hunker down for a read that will draw me into the particular sense of wonder and magic, secrets and revelations, remembrance and inspiration that remind me what the soul of the holidays is all about, and that move me forward into my next spiritual step.

This may seem like a tall order, but we're blessed with several stories that measure up. Top of my list is Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol. For most of my life, my dad made a practice of performing it for the family. Some years, we all performed it together either on stage or as a radio broadcast. Then there's O. Henry's Gift of the Magi. Three years ago, I spent an early Christmas in New York with a dear friend while we did an author event together. We took ourselves to Pete's Tavern in Irving Place where the story was written, two authors grinning foolishly at the knowledge a writer we admired had sat right where we were sitting. Richard Paul Evans has made a career of writing holiday stories that touch the heart, starting with his Christmas Box. Debbie Macomber loves Christmas and has written several charming tales including The Perfect Christmas.

One year, I began to hear Christmas stories that hadn't yet been written, and knew I'd have to start typing them myself. It wasn't the easiest vacation that year, since the stories wouldn't leave me alone. But it was very rewarding to dot the final i and cross the ultimate t. This year, my publishers wanted to bring out my first e-book holiday story, and it gets published today.

Whose Angel Key Ring is one of those tales that contains the aforementioned elements: secrets and sentimentality. It also contains expectation and resolution. The experience of writing it was something like peering in the window of Calma, the fictional estate where it's set. For me, the setting is as tangible as Christmas itself. It's a special property I first began imagining during many childhood visits to Santa Barbara. During the early 1980s the fictional property evolved as I spent time at Love Songs, a gorgeous enclave of buildings where I recorded the hit song "Sumahama" with Mike Love of the Beach Boys. By the time my radio drama Milford-Haven U.S.A. was on the air, "Calma" was fully developed. Now for the first time—thanks to artist Mary Helsaple's extraordinary talent—my readers can actually see the charming cottage overlooking the ocean bluff where resides the Calvin family's trusted retainer—a man who's part diplomat, all discretion, and the keeper of family secrets large and small. And what is that key ring with its cherub that dangles from his mail box? To find out, you'll have to cozy up to your Kindle or Nook for a quick download—free during the holidays. Only then will you know . . . whose angel key ring it really is.

For more information on the changes that are taking place with The Milford Haven Novels, please read my newsletter. If you have not subscribed, visit www.MaraPurl.com to have my newsletter sent to your mailbox every month.