Happy Holiday’s everyone! I hope you had a great Thanksgiving. I’ve been doing many book events and love traveling around and talking to everyone. I just came back from the Vineyard after a signing at the amazing Martha’s Vineyard Made, a small store in Vineyard Haven that carries my book and sells products all made by islanders. I had the absolute pleasure of spending the night at Rose Styron’s. If you have read my book, which I hope that you have, then you probably know who that is if you don’t already. Being on that property and in the Styron home always floods me with so many memories. My favorite is sitting on the porch watching the ferry go by with Bill. Time goes by so fast, reminding me to cherish every moment. Rose is still as vibrant as ever at 94 years old—it’s amazing.

Literary Cape Ann was this weekend in Rockport, and it was a smashing success. Despite the lousy weather, tons of north shore peeps ventured out to see me and the other twenty-three local authors that attended. It was an honor to be in the company of such talented writers. I ended up purchasing books from a few I’d met—Kristin Czarnecki, whose memoir The First Kristin: The Story of a Naming intrigued me so much, I started it the moment I got home. Thriller writer Peter Swanson, from Gloucester’s, Before She knew Him, I cannot wait to start, and Rockport Inn keeper Dan Duffy penned a fiction inspired by actual events book, Brother Brother, after his brother, suffering from PTSD, disappeared after returning from Vietnam, never to be seen again. These authors were all just the best, and I highly encourage you to check them out.

In other news, The Silence in the Sound has won a Literary Titan Silver Award, which I’m thrilled about. I guess people are resigning with Georgette and her trials and tribulations on Martha’s Vineyard. It’s beyond cool when something you worked so hard for becomes something. It feels like sometimes my book is a living thing; maybe it’s because, as a writer, you become so close to it.

I recently found my bucket list from when I was a teenager. It’s so odd because I’d been through this old box so many times but somehow never saw this one piece of notebook paper. I loved reading it and found it to be a good summarization of who I am, which is pretty much who I’ve always been, except for a few bumps, bends, and turns along the way. Even back then, I was committed to writing, even just a little, and hoped to have something published. I did have a poem published in my late teens, and I still remember the feeling and the poem. . .

If not for the dust

thrown in my eyes,

I’d have seen you

unlike other men.

Like a foolish child

I let you go,

Never knowing

What might have been.

I believe I wrote this about the pizza delivery driver I was crazy about, but I could be wrong. Not surprisingly there were all sorts of crushes and drama in my late teens. But reading this list made me think about goals and writing them down, and working towards them. I think it’s so important to know what makes you tick and experience life the way you want to. Goals can evolve and change. I never learned French, I’d still like to, I suppose, but it’s much lower on my list. I did learn guitar (not on the list), but on another, well, one song that I’d always wanted to. Guitar, to me, was comparable to learning algebra—not fun, so I customized my goal to learn just one song. Don’t be afraid to tweak things. I‘m about to write a new list, a vision board. I had one before, and it worked.

How can you get to where you need to be if you can’t see where you’re going?

But I digress, all of this while trying to find the time to get through the second half of my new novel and continue to market like the best-used car salesman that ever lived makes for busy days. Tell me what you’re working on and how you keep at it. Do you create lists and vision boards, do you manifest your life? I’d love to hear.

Oh, and The Silence in the Sound eBook is still $1.99 for s limited time only. Grab your copy and/or a physical one. BOOKS MAKE GREAT GIFTS! (in my best sales voice).