Seaborn and Seatinis

Having a chance to expound on a subject I love is a rare gift. Last night I had just such an opportunity, thanks to the invitation I received to address a book club gathering at  Denise B.’s gracious home in Upton, Massachusetts.  She had taken great pains to make the occasion special. She set up her large downstairs room—practically the size of a rec hall—with rows of comfortable chairs facing a raised desk decorated with an arrangement of seashells and two of my novels, The Sea Singer and Seaborn.  At the other end of the room, her bar featured a beer sign with a cherry-red electronic ticker that displayed my name. To top it off, she had concocted an absinthe green elixir called a “Seatini” in honor of the oceanic (if not alcoholic) nature of my stories.

When I sat down at the raised seat behind the desk to face the assembled book club members, I felt for a moment that I should rap a gravel to pronounce court in session. Then Wendell, their friendly dog, bustled in squeaking an Aflac duck chew toy. That was my cue.  I launched into an hour-long soliloquy about the joys and pains of writing Seaborn and my other books, and the twenty-odd folks in the audience, balancing Seatinis or other drinks, were welcoming and inquisitive and engaged. I was honored to have a chance to talk about my favorite subject, especially to such a receptive audience.  And who could not relish a chance to meet Wendell the Famous House-Invading Hound? 

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