Linden Frederick is the most literary of artists.  His paintings tell stories by inviting the viewer into a very focused and specific moment in time, engaging our imaginations.  He often paints night scenes: dusk to dawn, changing light .  He depicts houses, windows dark except one, making us wonder what is going on inside, drawing us into the family story.

I write a lot about sisters.  I am the oldest of three, and when we were young, we were so close we never wanted to be apart.  We shared a bedroom--three beds, three desks, three bookcases, and us.  

I’m so pleased to announce that Goodreads is hosting a giveaway for THE BEAUTIFUL LOST! Go here to enter to win a bound galley: http://bit.ly/2pZt6Fc  @ireadya

Recently I walked down Lyme Street in the early evening.  Spring is just beginning, and the first peepers had started to call from the Lieutenant River.  The sky was spellbinding a shade of blue so dark and clear it made me look up for a long time, until the moon rose.  Some of Old Lyme's graceful houses and galleries had their lights on, glowing warmly from within.  

There is a feeling of holding on, of getting through, of balancing on a precipice.  When you're lied to by someone in power, it's the same as being gaslighted in an abusive relationship.  You're being told one thing, but you know it's wrong, you know it's false.  To mix movie metaphors, it's also the Wizard of Oz telling us "pay no attention to that man behind the curtain."  But we have to pay attention.  

The paperback of THE SECRET LANGUAGE OF SISTERS comes out on Tuesday, January 31. Jeryl Brunner interviewed me for Forbes, and I talk about the book, writing, and sisters.  Here is the link.  Jeryl is always so supportive and I love her stories on theater, the arts, books, and so many other topics.  I first met her when she included me in her book MY CITY, MY NEW YORK. 

The winter solstice feels pure and eternal.  The beach is so quiet, not another soul around.  No voices, just the sound of the waves, the wind in the reeds.  There are buffleheads and mergansers in the pond and off the point, and a lone osprey circles the bay.  Is he a juvenile as one birder friend of mine suggests?  Was she left behind when the others left on their migration months earlier?  

I spent Friday at Boston's Logan Airport celebrating Deconstructing Stigma, a project developed by McLean Hospital.  It's an amazing exhibit, intended to start a conversation about mental illness and the stigma that often surrounds it.  The walkway between Terminals B and C is lined with photos of people affected, including me--I've dealt with depression since I was a teenager.  Although the images are larger-than-life, the stories told are human-sized: intimate and personal.  

Every year, on the first of December, Christmas trees arrive in New York City.  The same families come year-after-year and set up their stands on the same street corners.  There is one on Ninth Avenue in Chelsea that inspired me to write SILVER BELLS.  

Fall begins today.  I am happy.  My sister Maureen is sad.  She feels melancholy when summer officially ends.  I welcome the shorter days and cozier nights.  She misses carefree sails, every evening after work, with her husband Olivier, out of Noank and back.  I like apples.  

It is peaceful.  The summer people have gone home.  Kids have started school.  I miss them, even though I love the quiet.  

An essay about Old Lyme's Phoebe Griffin Noyes Library and my friend Dr. C. Philip Wilson.

When I was ten I joined a second family.  Although I loved my own, one day after school I stumbled down a flight of stairs into the Whitneys' garden at 588 Lincoln Street, and fell in love with all of them.  Mrs. Whitney was the most intrepid mother imaginable.  

Today is the 100th anniversary of the Easter Rising in Ireland.  While I was writing my novel Stone Heart, Brendan Gill told me to reread "Easter, 1916" by Yeats.  

I've always loved the earth, the oceans, all of nature.  You too, right? 

A week ago I was at the New York Public Library, doing a panel for the NYC Teen Author Festival.  This was great and illuminating for me in so many ways.  First, the NYPL.  My favorite building in New York, a haven for readers and writers, its wide front steps facing Fifth Avenue and guarded by lions Patience and Fortitude.  

I was so thrilled to learn that THE LEMON ORCHARD has been included in the Top Holiday Reads Shortlist for 2016!