DearReader.com

03/29/2022

Rabbi Toba Spitzer is today's guest at the book club. A popular teacher of courses on Judaism and economic justice, she has received the honor of being included in Newsweek's Top 50 Rabbis in America list and the 2010 Forward list of 50 Female Rabbis Who Are Making A Difference. Since 1997, she has been the spiritual leader of Congregation Dorshei Tzedek in Newton, MA. Her new book is, "God Is Here: Reimagining the Divine."

Email Toba at: [email protected]

In 2007, I received an email at work that I almost deleted. It began, "Dear Rabbi," which sounded sort of anonymous. I thought it might be spam. But I read on, and it turned out the email was from a literary agent at a very large talent agency. He had found some of my sermons online, and thought I should write a book. I was busy being a congregational rabbi and wasn't really thinking about writing a book. We emailed a bit and had a phone conversation, and I told him I'd think about it. He was based in L.A. and I told him, if you're ever in Boston, give me a call. And that was that.

About a year and a half later, I got another email, from another literary agent at a talent agency. She had also found my sermons online, and thought I should write a book. When she mentioned me to her business partner, it turned out that he was the one who had emailed me first.

While I don't believe in a God that micromanages human lives, I had to admit that something mysterious was afoot here. The universe seemed to be telling me I needed to write a book. The duo of literary agents had moved to NYC, and I took the train down one day to have lunch with them. I couldn't quite figure out what kind of book they wanted me to write. "Like your sermons!" they said. But I give sermons on lots of topics, I replied. What exactly is it that you think I have to say in a book? After an hour or so of conversation, I realized: "I think you want me to write a book about God."

That conversation happened back in 2011. In the years since, I began and completed a journey that resulted in my book, "God Is Here: Reimagining the Divine." I wrote the book because, after discovering metaphor theory and cognitive linguistics, I realized that helping spiritually-inclined people who aren't so sure about God delve into ancient, non-human metaphors for the divine could literally change lives. With my congregants, I explored how we might bring metaphors like Water and Place and Rock off of the pages of ancient texts and into daily life. The results of our exploration were powerful, but there were only so many people I could teach in person. A book, I hoped, would help me share with many more people of all backgrounds the texts and practices that I had found to be so transformative. Writing this book has been its own spiritual journey, and my sincere hope is that it brings some measure of insight and healing to our broken, beautiful world.

-- Toba Spitzer

Email Toba at, [email protected]

03/28/2022

Today's guest author, Priscilla Masters, was born in Halifax and adopted into a multi-racial family of seven. Brought up in South Wales she moved to Birmingham in the 1970's and trained as a
registered nurse at the Queen Elizabeth Hospital, in Birmingham.

She has produced more than thirty crime novels and one children's book. In addition to the series featuring Coroner Martha Gunn and a forensic psychologist Dr Claire Roget, Priscilla has written the DI Joanna Piercy series since 1995. The latest title in that series is the newly released, "Almost a Whisper."

Priscilla has two sons, two grandsons and lives in a Victorian ex-laundry cottage on the Staffordshire/Shropshire border.

Please do contact Priscilla via her website and say "Hello." https://www.priscillamasters.co.uk/contact-priscilla-masters/

To enter Priscilla's book drawing (you could win one of three copies of "Almost a Whisper"), send an email with your mailing address to: [email protected]

Priscilla Masters on a First Date

As a first date it could have ended a lot better but not much worse, to be truthful.

I was a first-year student nurse in Birmingham 1970 when I was invited to a party by one of the medical students. So far so good. Except...

My date for the night had heard that the famous clock tower, Old Joe, was undergoing some restoration. A little earlier in the evening he'd recced the tower which was normally padlocked and found a small opening in one of the doors where a panel had been removed. He reckoned that I was just small enough to squeeze through and open the door from the inside.

Old Joe aka The Joseph Chamberlain Memorial Tower, is a clock tower and campanile, or bell tower, located in Chancellor's court at the University of Birmingham. According to Wikipedia it is the tallest free-standing clock tower in the world, although I didn't know that at the time. The university lists it as 361 feet tall. The clock dial measures 17 feet in diameter; the length of the clock's hands are 10 and 6 ft, and the bell weighs in at 5 tons.

A prominent landmark in Birmingham, the grade II listed tower can be seen for miles around the campus as well as from the surrounding roads, and has become synonymous with the University itself.

And my new boyfriend thought it would be a nice start to the evening to pop up to the top, ring the bells and maybe tinker with the hands before heading to the party.

I wasn't exactly dressed for the occasion in lime green hotpants, wedge heels and false eyelashes and I'm not over fond of heights. But luckily the heights thing wasn't a problem as we couldn't look down as we climbed and climbed and climbed, finally reaching a platform. A couple of hangers on had joined the pre-party party and had clanged the bells (I don't know if any of you have read Dorothy L Sayers 'The Nine Tailors'?) Another mischief maker had 'played around' with the clock hands causing confusion to the commuters the next morning on their way to work!

It might not surprise you to know that we didn't get to the party. We were "arrested" by the University Police but released by the Selly Oak Force who between incredulity and guffaws cautioned us and let us go.

What might surprise you more is that I actually married the guy!

-- Priscilla Masters
Enter a drawing to win one of three copies of "Almost a Whisper." Send an email with your mailing address to: [email protected]

You may contact Priscilla via her website: https://www.priscillamasters.co.uk/contact-priscilla-masters/

03/15/2022

Shelley Shepard Gray is the "New York Times" and "USA Today" bestselling author of numerous romantic fiction series and mystery novels, including the Seasons of Sugarcreek series, the Sisters of the Heart series, the Families of Honor series, and others. She is the recipient of the RT Book Reviews Reviewers' Choice Award. She has written more than eighty novels, translated into multiple languages. Her new book "Edgewater Road," is book one in her new series, Rumors in Ross County. You'll find more info at: shelleyshepardgray.com.

Enter the drawing for one of five copies Shelley is giving away to book club readers. Email: [email protected]

Someone asked me the other day if I had a random talent that I was especially proud about. Don't you hate questions like that? I always get a deer-in-the-headlights look when someone asks me something off topic, especially when I'm just planning to talk about work or kids
or the weather.

Anyway, caught off guard, I answered with the first thing that came to mind. I said that I can make really good buttermilk biscuits. My answer went over as well as one of those proverbial lead balloons.

I don't blame the gal for looking confused. We recently moved to a little town outside of Cleveland. Buttermilk biscuits aren't exactly a 'thing' here--and neither is buttermilk. If the conversation ever does veer towards breakfast foods, more than likely most people describe their hunts for really good New York style bagels.

However, after that second's delay, the gal smiled and asked me how my biscuit talent came to be.

Next thing I knew, I was telling her about Sunday mornings in Texas and watching my father use the top of a juice glass to make perfect circles in dough. I remembered him never using a rolling pin and how his hands would always become a floury mess. How he created something really special with just a bunch of self-rising flour, Crisco, and a jug of whole milk.

I also shared that while the biscuits were baking, Dad would make sausage gravy. Within minutes, the whole house would smell like sausage and grease and flour and goodness. It smelled like home.

He passed away when I was still in my twenties--years before I convinced my Clevelander husband that biscuits were really a whole lot better than bagels for breakfast. Eventually, I decided I needed to figure out how to make perfect biscuits, too.

In case you're curious, my latest 'go to' recipe is on the back of a baking powder can. It's written really small--you'll likely need to find a pair of readers to see those tiny numbers. My hint is to go out and get a pint of buttermilk for them (it's worth the effort), don't use a rolling pin, and keep the dough thick. When it's time to cut them out, the top of any glass will do.

All things told, my special talent really isn't all that special, but the memories of how it came to be are. In the end, that's what really matters the most, don't you think?

--Shelley Shepard Gray

Enter the drawing for one of five copies Shelley is giving away to book club readers. Email: [email protected]

03/01/2022

Dear Reader,

Today's guest author, Benjamin Gilmer, is a family medicine physician but still a teacher at heart for UNC medical students and MAHEC family medicine residents. He continues to be a pilgrim in the mountains of western North Carolina where he lives with wife and two children. He has written his first book, "The Other Dr. Gilmer: Two Men, a Murder, and an Unlikely Fight for Justice," which is being released today.

The book is the complete story that he first told to millions on "This American Life" about starting his life as a physician and following in the footsteps of a presumed murderer with the same name. Benjamin has committed the last ten years to understanding the other Dr. Gilmer, and advocating for his release from prison. He is producing a feature film along with Concordia Films that speaks to this advocacy pilgrimage and why we should treat the mentally ill, not incarcerate them.

Contact Dr Gilmer via https://benjamingilmer.com/contact/

I needed to be a pilgrim!

Back in the 90's, while trying to sort myself out, I decided to become a pilgrim. At the time, I didn't understand the significance of walking a thousand miles from Arles, France to the tomb of St. James in Santiago, Spain. Twenty years later, I finally understand.

The Camino de Santiago is an ancient pilgrimage, one that was well-travelled during the middle-ages and likely the most significant unifying element in Europe's history. People walked from every corner of Europe to Santiago. Some traveled for penitence, others walked as a spiritual journey, but all were in search of something. My walk was a portal, a transition into a new life from teacher to doctor. I was thirty and a late-bloomer to medicine. Life was complex, and I was about to give up everything I loved: my job as a teacher, scientific endeavors, and a relationship. So, I decided to walk.

The Camino has been revealing universal signs to pilgrims for hundreds of years and that was what I needed--a mystical sign to reveal my new path, and to soften this life transition. Only days after returning home, I was to start medical school, leaving behind my previous life as a teacher and neurobiologist and a woman I loved.

My first realization.

Each literal step of the Camino offered something: a breath, a pause, an experience. After a decade preparing for medical school, I realized I had never slowed down, not for a moment. The Way of St. James offered space to experience what I hadn't seen in so long, and to have a different tactile experience with the world: birds that I could finally hear singing, the whisperings of the wind, the heat of the sun at every angle throughout the day, the cries of muscles that had not experienced walking 20 miles every day, and voices that emanated from the silence of my own brain.

I was awoken.

Thinking of the contemporary life I have chosen as a physician and writer, I dream about my pilgrimage experiences often and deeply cherish my Camino's many gifts. I yearn for walks, and have had twenty years to reflect on the importance of being still, and listening.

Writing the "Other Dr. Gilmer" was another Camino. Doing so required persistence, and forced me to be reflective again and open my eyes to the universal, but also to myself. Each page was another step forward, another opportunity to experience with open eyes.

I am grateful for the teachings of both journeys.

-- Benjamin Gilmer

Contact Dr Gilmer via https://benjamingilmer.com/contact/

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

02/22/2022

Dear Reader,

Today's guest author, Laurie Zaleski, is the Founder and President of Funny Farm, a rescue and sanctuary located in Mays Landing, NJ. Inspired by her mother and her love of animals, Laurie has led her rescue farm to become one of the largest animal rescues in the northeast. Funny Farm has earned many awards including the Top 10 places to visit in all of New Jersey. Laurie is also the Founder and CEO of Art-Z Graphics and a licensed pilot. She has been named a New Jersey Heartland Hero, is listed in the 2019 Who's Who of Professional Women, and has received numerous awards and acknowledgements for her work to save animals and educate the public about animal abuse. Her memoir, "Funny Farm: My Unexpected Life with 600 Rescue Animals," goes on sale today.

Laurie is giving away two copies of "Funny Farm: My Unexpected Life with 600 Rescue Animals." To enter the drawing, send an email your preferred mailing address to: [email protected]

Find out more about Funny Farm Rescue and Sanctuary at: https://funnyfarmrescue.org/

Please welcome Laurie Zaleski...

One of my many passions is flying. Ever since I was a small girl, I have always been fascinated by anything that flies from small bugs, to giant swans, to huge aircraft.

Another passion I have is animal rescue. One day, a lady brought me an orphaned 2-day-old baby turkey I named Rosie.

Rosie lived in my house with the dogs and cats. She followed me everywhere, even jumping up on my lap to take her little naps. There were no if, ands, or turkey-butts about it. I was her mom.

My friends would invite me out to a restaurant and they would all carry beautiful purses. Mine was a little different. It had a special space just for Rosie and another compartment for her food because she ate every 2 hours. After a while, they heard little chirps coming from my purse and I would just tell them the truth, which was much better than any story I could have made up. I just said, "I have a baby turkey in there!" They rolled their eyes and said, "Only Laurie!"

I knew it was my job to teach Rosie how to fly, after all, she is a bird. I have a small Cessna 150 I nicknamed "The Blonde Bomber." It was time to combine my passions, animals and airplanes!

As we flew, I put her up on the dashboard so she could see out the windows. Rosie loved every minute of it. My plan was to push the yoke abruptly down causing the airplane to be completely weightless, at least for a few seconds. As a kid, I called it the "tummy tickler" much like the feeling you get on a roller coaster.

Each time I would climb a little, and then push the yoke in. Sure enough, Rosie's little wings began to flap, and flap. After about 3 times, she learned to fly! The more she'd fly, the more she'd chirp! We did this several times until I determined, she, herself, was "airworthy."

Since then, I have had many animals in my little Cessna. There were a variety of missions from animal rescues to visits of animals I had in special hospitals. At the time, there were very few women pilots.

Certainly, I worked hard to learn to fly and nothing was handed to me. Like most things in my life, I knew if something was going to happen, I couldn't sit around wishing. With the determination I learned from my mother, I knew that absolutely nothing was impossible!

-- Laurie Zaleski

To enter my drawing for one of two copies of my book, "Funny Farm: My Unexpected Life with 600 Rescue Animals," send an email to: [email protected]

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

02/15/2022

Our guest author today Ben Rawlence, is a former researcher for Human Rights Watch in the horn of Africa. His new book is "The Treeline: The Last Forest and the Future of Life on Earth." The book takes us on a journey of wonder and awe at the incredible creativity and resilience of trees and the mysterious workings of the forest upon which we rely for the air we breathe.

Ben is also the author of "City of Thorns" and "Radio Congo" and is the founder and director of Black Mountains College and lives with his family in Wales.

Ben says, "I never set out to become a writer, I just found that I liked doing it and had stories to tell. Now I confess I am addicted. It's a kind of curse, if I don't write, I don't feel good. So I try and write for at least an hour each day."

Ben is giving away three copies of "The Treeline." To enter the drawing, send an email with your preferred shipping address to: [email protected]

Please welcome author Ben Rawlence...

Dear Reader,

You have a heartbeat. Did you know that the planet has one too? In fact it has more than one. The daily pulse of breathing in and breathing out of plants exhaling oxygen and inhaling carbon dioxide, the seasonal pulse of deciduous plants and trees photosynthesizing during the spring and summer and then shutting down for the winter, and lastly, the most amazing and dramatic heartbeat--of ice, rising and falling like a white blanket over the top of the earth every 100,000 years. The ice ages have defined life on earth for millions of years and, each time the ice has retreated north, the forest has followed on its heels, rising and falling, like breath.

And as the lichen, moss, then grass and trees has colonised the rock, the advancing treeline has transformed the surface of the planet into a habitable crust of soil and plants. There is barely a square inch of the northern hemisphere that has not been passed over, and blessed, by the treeline.

I went North, to the Arctic circle, to catch a glimpse of the future where the planet is warming fastest: where the trees are on the move more than ever. I was completely unprepared for what I found. Forests have been shifting north since World War Two, trees are popping up where they have no right to exist and all the other denizens of the forest, including humans, are confused.

The clues to the changes underway and what they might mean for humans and non-humans alike are to be found in the past: the study of rocks, ice and trees. And if we are to find new, more healthy and respectful ways of co-existing on this planet with other species, then we must pay attention to older ways of living in harmony with the forest, ways of life practised by indigenous peoples of the woods the world over.

In "The Treeline" we meet the Sami people of Norway herding reindeer on the tundra, the Nganasan of Siberia whose lives have been turned upside down first by communism then by its ending, the Koyukon of Alaska who first noticed changes signalled by the birds a century ago and the Anishinaabe of Canada who have confronted the traumatic history of colonialism and in the process created the largest protected enclave of old growth forest in North America.

Trees offer us a warning but also consolation, and in their generous, creative and social, example they show us a way out of the dead end we have driven down. "The Treeline" is an invitation to take a walk in the woods and participate in the infinite, mysterious and majestic unfolding algorithm that is the co-evolution of all life on earth.

-- Ben Rawlence

Ben is giving away three copies of "The Treeline." To enter the drawing, send an email with your preferred shipping address to: [email protected]

02/08/2022

Aimée Lutkin, today's guest author, is a writer, director, and performer from NYC, where she was born and raised. She currently lives and works in Los Angeles, but will travel for almost any reason.

Aimée's first book is "The Lonely Hunter." When can we say we'll be single forever--and that's okay? One woman questions our society's pathologizing of loneliness in this crackling, incisive blend of memoir and cultural reporting.

At the end of today's column find out how to enter Aimée's book giveaway. Five copies of "The Lonely Hunter" are waiting for five lucky book club readers

Please welcome author Aimée Lutkin...

The people I envy most in this world for their natural abilities are those who sleep well. I wake every morning at around dawn. Being an early riser is not a moral virtue. In my case. It's an involuntary state of consciousness I'd love to trade in for the capacity to sleep anywhere, anytime, and wake up refreshed. Not only does it take me a long time to fall asleep, I toss and turn all night. When I dream, it's so vivid it's more like I'm living a second shift, going from our world to some other dimension to be awake there for a while.

It's a bit on the nose, but when the pandemic first started, I dreamt constantly of traveling. Confined to my apartment and immediate neighborhood during the day, at night I traveled on planes, giant ocean cruisers, trains, even a ski lift from town to town. Rarely did I reach any destination--as it often is with actual travel, my dream journeys were a headache of missed connections and wrong stops. It was still exciting just to move, even if I was only moving across an inner landscape of subconscious desires.

I think the instigating force of all this was mainly regret; in late 2019, I'd canceled a planned trip to Europe. Then, I'd decided that the trip would mean financial ruin and I should wait for a more auspicious time. A part of my decision also had to do with being single. Traveling seemed like something I should only be doing if I could do it with another person. I didn't trust myself to be good enough company.

Now, having been single for a little over a decade, I try to approach life as though there may not be a more auspicious time than right this moment and I'm my favorite companion. Last fall, shortly before a new variant sent me scuttling back to isolation, I managed to travel during my waking hours. I visited Paris for three weeks. I hadn't flown across the ocean in about 18 years, not since returning from a semester abroad in that same city during college. I couldn't wait another second.

Being a tourist can be extremely cliche. There were a lot of picturesque moments in my trip, a lot of sitting in outdoor cafes and drinking very inexpensive wine and walking along the Seine. It also involved a lot of working remotely at weird hours, having to find an emergency dentist on a Sunday, and my first flat tire ever somewhere off the highway near Rouen. Like my dreams, the experience was sometimes more of a nightmare than a fantasy. But the adventure did something for me that I thought was impossible: it tired me out. I slept like a baby every night and I don't remember what I dreamed about at all.

I'd love to hear more about your dreams and adventures at [email protected], email me and you'll be entered in my drawing for one of five copies of "The Lonely Hunter."

-- Aimée Lutkin
[email protected]

02/01/2022

Sarah Jio is a journalist and the #1 international and "New York Times" bestselling author of eleven novels, including "With Love From London," which will be released on February 8th. To learn more about Sarah, today's guest author, visit www.sarahjio.com

Sarah's giving away five copies of her new book, "With Love From London." To enter send an email to: [email protected] Be sure to include your preferred mailing address.

For Shel Silverstein It Was "The Giving Tree"--for Me It's One Incredibly Resilient Rose

One of my earliest (and dearest) childhood memories is of my father tearing up while reading me Shel Silverstein's classic, "The Giving Tree." While the book may masquerade as a children's book, it's a story for people of all ages because its message is profound.

In my life, I've thought a lot about that book--as a wide-eyed college student, a fledgling writer, an exhausted new parent--but the story became even more special to me when I considered the fact that I had a "giving tree" in my own life, well, a giving rose.

I was twelve years old when my mom came home from the local nursery with a small, red rose bush that she planted in our side garden. Fancy French perfumes didn't even compare. It had a fragrance unlike anything I'd ever experienced. For years, it grew happily, offering seemingly infinite blossoms--sometimes even in the dead of winter, gracing us with a rare flower, it's deep crimson color bursting against the backdrop of snow. It thrived, and we loved it.

The year after I graduated from college, my parents announced that they were selling my beloved childhood home, and I tearfully prepared to say goodbye--to the walls and windows I grew up inside, but also to the rosebush I'd come to love.

One late-summer afternoon in the garden, just a few weeks until the moving truck would arrive, I hatched a plan. "Wait," I said, turning to my mom. "What if I...dug up the rose and replanted it in my garden in Seattle?"

While we both loved gardening (and still do!), neither of us would consider ourselves horticulturalists, and a quick Internet search confirmed that the rose's odds of survival weren't in our favor. Transplanting is always a risky proposition, but if it must be done, the fall months are preferable--not the peak of summer, which it was when I grabbed a shovel and begun digging. I separated the roots, placed it in a large pot and carted the rose home--hoping (and praying) for the best.

I know, it's just a plant. But I was anxious, nonetheless. Would it survive? Had I just killed one of the most beautiful memories of my childhood? I took a deep breath and placed it in its new home--a partial-sun, partial-shade corner of my Seattle backyard.

For the first few weeks, the rose looked anemic, as though her leaves might spontaneously curl up and shrivel, giving up the fight. In fact, I thought she might. But I forged on--doting on her, watering, checking. And then! One late-fall morning, there it was: a blossom, as red and fragrant as ever. It was as if she whispered, "I'm still here. I always will be."

And she has been. After I sold that home, the rose came with me to the next. And after a painful divorce, she came with me to the next. And after a joyous remarriage, she is now resting, and blooming, in what I hope is her forever home--my own little "giving tree," with flowers on her branches and roots of steel that remind me of home, family, stories and the very best things in life.

-- Sarah Jio

To enter a drawing for a copy of "With Love From London," send an email to: [email protected] Be sure to include your preferred mailing address.

01/25/2022

Please welcome today's guest author...

Gia de Cadenet is a Black American expat who made her childhood dream of living in France come true in 2006 when she moved to Paris for her master's degree. She's a business school professor and former translator and editor with UNESCO.

Her debut, "Getting His Game Back" was described by "Publisher's Weekly" as "a thoroughly satisfying love story with a big, beating heart."

You can reach out to Gia, she would love to hear from you. Send Gia a note via https://giadecadenet.com/contact/


When I moved to Paris in 2006, I quickly learned that the City of Light is exactly as glamorous as I'd imagined. I taught English at an agency that worked with the great fashion houses of France. I was always a little intimidated when I had to walk into Chanel or Dior to give my lessons, but my students never made me feel bad.

I had a funny, confident student named Noura working for Louis Vuitton on the Champs Elysée. We became fast friends. She was in her mid-twenties, like me, and though she liked her job well enough, the customers really got under her skin sometimes. Having worked retail in the States, I could empathize.

One Saturday, my boyfriend and I were on a leisurely walk and ended up on the Champs. I'd never been in a Louis Vuitton but, feeling bold, I suggested we pop in to say hi to Noura.

The place was packed. It was as much an art gallery as anything else. We walked around, gawking at the luxury. Just as I thought to leave, someone called out, "Madame, there you are!"

'Madame?'

I turned and there was Noura, her eyes wide, smile tight, a few wisps of hair falling from a high bun. She was beside me in a second.

"Hi?" I said.

"Follow me?" she asked, voice tight, linking her arm in mine.

Back ramrod straight, she whisked us past display cases, groups of customers, and two women shooting daggers at her. Ignoring them, she led us into a small room with a window overlooking the Champs Elysée.

Noura's whole demeanor changed as we sat on a brown velour couch embossed with the LV logo.

"I'm so glad you're here. These two 'petasses' have been giving me s**t for the past half hour. I cannot take it anymore. You just stay here, yes? Do you want champagne?" she asked.

I looked at my boyfriend. We were severely underdressed for both the room and champagne. "Is it a problem if we're in here?" I asked.

"We can't buy anything."

She waved a hand.

"You're giving me a break. If I'm with a 'client' in here, someone else has to cover the customers on the floor." She smiled and winked at me. "You're a lifesaver."

"Well," I said, "I guess we just have to have some champagne."

When Noura returned with two full glasses and a mischievous grin, I knew that nothing in Paris was out of my reach. Not even the Louis Vuitton VIP room!

-- Gia de Cadenet
Drop Gia a note via https://giadecadenet.com/contact/

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