Literary Love

It’s Done Last month, my husband and I successfully sold our home of 37-plus years. I’d heard hair-raising stories of closings that went wrong, but thankfully, our closing went smoothly. The weeks leading up to the closing, however, were anything but. We secured our house’s elusive Certificate of Occupancy, but the buyer’s title company disputed the property lines, putting us under a tight deadline to talk to and secure notarized affidavits from neighbors bordering our property. Though we moved into our new apartment, we had to return to the house to shower and cook for two weeks while we chased after the gas utility company to turn on our service. Emptying the rooms, deciding what to part with, what to save, and  getting rid of stuff  was both physically and emotionally taxing. And we’d forgotten about a small attic! Our adult son and his large, older dog, Winston, were still living in the house, sleeping on a blowup mattress, basically squatting amongst the unwanted remains,...

Letting Go Things surrounding the sale of my home are building … in a  BIG  way. After listing our home of 37-plus years for sale this past June, my husband and I threw ourselves into decluttering and sprucing it up for the open house, held mid-June. By the end of the month, we had secured buyers. Despite our diligent effort to attain our home’s Certificate of Occupancy as promised in our contract, it appeared our town’s building department seemed to have it in for us. Just when we’d been told things were looking good, that inspection conditions had been met, they imposed a new requirement. A phone call with a Disney-like villain town clerk, who seemed personally invested in thwarting us, brought me to tears of frustration. Two steps forward, one step back.  Another delay. Another expense. Today we have what we hope is our  last  inspection. Headaches aside, I knew there’d be an emotional toll of selling our home. It’s easy to keep those heavy thoughts at bay wh...

  The Move Part 1:  This is  hard!! According to Google AI, on average, Americans move 11.7 times during their lifetime. Me, I’ve moved once—from my childhood home to the one I’ve shared with my husband since we married. As a result, I had no idea how difficult the process could be — physically as well as emotionally. My husband and I (empty nesters) have been talking about moving since we were blessed with a grandchild two years ago—and a second this past February. We love the renewed energy in our lives, but being in New York with our grandchildren in Massachusetts, visits are sporadic and have to be planned. Of the two families, my husband and I are the most easily replanted.  We decided on a two-step move. First, downsizing to an apartment 30 minutes from our current home, renting for a year to give my husband and I time to figure out whether we want to either retire or work in Massachusetts. In April, we took the plunge and signed with a real...

Through September 30, enter to win one of 100 copies of my new book #GIRLFIGHT  Goodreads Book Giveaway #Girlfight by Suzanne McKenna Link Giveaway ends September 30, 2024. See the giveaway details at Goodreads. Enter Giveaway

One year ago, as the morning started sunny and beautiful, capping the weekend of a family celebration, we received the news; you were no longer a part of our world.  We gathered in the room with you. You seemed so peaceful. Your body, though unmoving, curled comfortably in sleep, your hand under your chin, as if in the happiest of dreams. I remember kneeling at your side, my face pressed to yours, begging you to open your eyes.  Please, please, open your eyes.  It was unimaginable that you could have moved on to a place beyond our sight and touch. Even now, it’s just as inconceivable that an entire year has passed without you in our lives.  I have been comforted by the fact that you left peacefully, just as you had asked God for. And I also take solace that despite not having the chance to hold your first great-grandchild, there were no umbrages left in your wake — no arguments or bad feelings, no should-haves, wish-I-would-haves, remaining between us. I’m certain yo...

It’s been a whirlwind six months for my family.  This past fall, my daughter surprised the family with the happy news that she was pregnant with our first grandchild—the first baby on my side of the family in twenty-something years! We immediately called my 89-year-old mother in Florida to share the news and let her know that her wish to become a great-grandmother was coming true!  Weeks later, the whole family reunited in New Jersey to celebrate my nephew’s wedding. That Saturday, we laughed and danced welcoming a lovely woman into our growing family. Mom was the only surviving grandparent at the wedding, and she got to see my daughter beautifully blossoming with pregnancy, cute baby bump and all. Mom, six months shy of 90, and usually spunky and talkative, wasn’t herself that day. She complained of being cold and shivered throughout the celebration. But it  was  fall in New Jersey, we reasoned, and Mom, after nearly 30 years in Florida, was unused to the ...

 THIS WEEK: Saving Toby - Quick 99¢ sale. Scoop it up here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00EV6K2AC

I would like to know who keeps moving my stuff. Things like my cell phone, glasses, and car keys constantly show up in unusual spots around the house. Is it forgetfulness? Today's technology overloading my brain? Whatever it is, it’s becoming a trend. Lately I've been reaching for words I cannot find. Names of people evade me. I get to the top of the stairs and suddenly can't remember why I climbed them. Walk into the kitchen, and the reason I'm there leaves me. While I often cannot recall an actor's name, I can usually drag up the first letter of his/her name. "His name begins with 'T'," I tell my husband. To which he'll reply, "Tim Robbins." Clearly, I've helped procure this information, so I call it a win. When I mention to my friends about getting to the top of the stairs and not remembering why, they nod their heads in understanding. I am not alone, though this doesn't make me feel better when my phone goes missing. Witho...

* Warning: Foul language ahead! I’m listening to the audio version of “The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck.” This pithy book written by Mark Manson, is a sometimes humorous look at thoughts, behaviors and outcomes; full of logic and f-bombs. Manson pulls apart the concept of why we care about miscellaneous things and how a broad concern for too many things can affect us negatively. Yes, he says, we should most definitely give a fuck about things in our life. But how many fucks is enough and how do we choose what to give a fuck about? Case in point. Mom is an active 88-year-old widow, whose worries over the years have grown dramatically. She is concerned about a broad spectrum of subjects, from the predilection for tattoos by younger generations, to the mere possibility that anyone might get out of paying for their college tuition. She’s upset about facial hair on men and long hair on women. What surprises me most is not only the conviction she has to her opinions but the anger. It stea...

Nearly seven years ago, our son came home with a furry mini tank of a puppy. Only, my husband and I hadn't wanted another dog. After our last dog crossed the rainbow bridge, we were on dog sabbatical, taking a break to travel. I liked the idea that, without a dog, I’d finally have the clean house I'd always dreamt of. With an active young family, cleaning was like shoveling in a snowstorm. When the first kid moved out, I could see the fantasy within reach, toothpaste-free mirrors, and days (maybe even a week!) free of vacuuming. Enter Winston, a beautiful Greater Swiss Mountain, a 120-pound loveable bear of a dog who adores people. He rushes to greet visitors with such excitement, he fully believes they are coming to see him. His size makes him a presence you cannot ignore. Though, if he runs into you, it's like being tackled by a professional football player. My fantasy of a clean house disappeared faster than Christmas cookies. Winston is the messiest dog we’ve ever had. ...

A chance trip to Italy to find a father he never met will give Edward a chance at love he never expected. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0854F62KW

A new book is on the way! This is a mock cover of my WIP (work-in-progress), a story I call Girl Fight. The title may change; the cover definitely will. Jayden Jones, the first female wrestler at her high school, returns home to grieve the death of her beloved high school teacher and coach and finds herself having to clean up the mess she left behind as well as put out a few new fires. I'm about 61K through a 2nd draft. Still months of work ahead of me before I push the publish button on book-baby #4, but I can't wait to share it with you! A female competitive fighter returns home to a firestorm of conflicts that tie her fists behind her back.

Quarantine Fatigue Last week I was crawling out of my skin.  I felt depressed, but nothing was wrong. In fact, I’m fortunate. Everyone I know is safe, and my family still has a source of income. Meanwhile, millions of others have lost their jobs, suffered through sickness and the death of loved ones, or have been forced to surrender to a drive-by celebration of much-anticipated milestones like graduations and weddings. I had none of those things. How can I be depressed? Quarantine fatigue is an actual thing.  Despite the decimation of the usual routine of my days and weeks, up until this last week, I was fine. Still, for no rhyme or reason, I felt edgy, ready to lose my sh*t. Lumped on top of that, was a sense of guilt for not having a legitimate reason to feel this way. The mind and emotions are complex. Alone with our thoughts, we get caught up in our own narratives. This is why, in part, socialization an...

Inward Thinking At a time when we are secluded with the same few people every day—or some of us, alone—we spend a lot of time looking inward. I’m an advocate for self-reflection and improvement, but it’s an important time to consider how others may be dealing with this crisis. Someone with an autoimmune disease is stuck home unable to do much; afraid they will get deathly sick. Someone is battling with depression, fighting a silent uphill battle since the first day of mandatory social distancing. A teacher struggles to learn how to instruct their class virtually and are finding themselves the target of overwhelmed parents’ anger. So many of our neighbors are navigating a new work-from-home situation that is less than optimal. Many are no longer working at all. Lovers are separated. Grandparents haven’t been able to hug their grandchildren. Sadly, some have experienced the loss of a loved one, or celebrated a birthday or a special milestone while isolated from those closest to t...

End of an Era My mother’s sister, my Aunt Roseann, passed away on Monday. She was 84. On my mother’s Italian side of the family, there are four sisters and one brother. As expected of women of that day, my mother and her sisters took care of their homes, husbands and children, but these matriarchs were far from domesticated wallflowers. They were always fiercely opinionated, and along with my 87-year-old mother, Aunt Roseann spoke her mind. When I was little my aunt often called me ‘foonge face.’ Apparently, she called my older sister the same thing. I guess we weren’t the happiest kids in those formative years, but despite a nickname we never warmed to, we have many great memories that include my aunt. Compared to now, the mid-to-late 70s were lean times. Families were larger, and lower, middle-class ones like mine did with less. As kids, we never felt the pinch. Spending time together made up what we lacked in money. My greatest memories were of family gatherings: noisy holidays...

Story Sex I don’t like gratuitous sex scenes in movies or what I read. Now, I’m not slamming anyone who enjoys a bit of voyeurism to get the engine primed, but those vamped up scenarios have a specific goal—and a specific audience. Sex scenes within the framework of a literary story are a horse of another color. When I’m engaged in a story, I want the physical action between the characters to mean something. I want their carnal relationship, their chemistry, their emotional connection, or lack of one, to tell me something about them as a couple, and as individuals. Done with intent, authors can use a character’s behavior in the bedroom as a creative avenue for character development, an intimate place to reveal either truths or falsehoods.

Take an entertaining ride through the countryside of Italy along with Edward, a first-time traveller. At the dying bequest of his grandmother, Eddie Rudack embarks on a trip to Positano Italy to find a family member he's never met. A stranger in a foreign land, he meets a beautiful Italian doctor who offers to help Eddie with his quest. With the beautiful doctor as his personal guide, Eddie will explore the Italian countryside, see the enduring work of the Renaissance masters, sample the traditional, delicious fare of the regions, and form lasting personal connections with a cast of quirky characters for which the likes he's never known. He'll rediscover his life's passion, fall in love, and in the course of it all, find Edward.

Saving Toby & Keeping Claudia have all new covers! What's New: Eye-catching new illustrated covers. Newly formatted interiors for all versions, both paperback and ebook.  Revised chapters in Keeping Claudia. The first six chapters were professionally re-edited to provide a smoother, more enjoyable reading experience. Each book features a new step-back photograph inside the cover.  Click here for Saving Toby on Amazon Click here for Keeping Claudia on Amazon Click here to view on Barnes & Noble.com

Photo  by  Giulia Forsythe Warm drink for a cold season It's wintertime here in New York. With temps at or below freezing most days, my hands are perpetually cold. I don't want to hold an iced drink and I want to drink one even less. When I'm relaxing after a long day, I want a hot drink that will warm me all over. Hot toddy fits the bill. A little bit of history  If you think the hot toddy is an old-fashioned drink, you'd be right. While no one seems to know exactly when and where it was first created, the hot toddy is rumored to have origins in 1700 Scotland, where pubs in Edinburgh diluted whiskey with hot water and honey to cure colds. Others claim it was created by Irish doctor Robert Bently Todd to ward off illness. Still others claim the hot toddy dates back to India during the 1600s. Wherever it came from, it certainly has a long history. Is a Hot Toddy medicinal?  There is no cure for the common cold, but the mixture of honey, lemon and a sh...

Deck the Halls for Happy Holidays Whether you opt for fresh-cut or fresh out of the box, trimming the tree is a staple of holiday decor in most homes. However, if you'll be entertaining this season, you may want to go beyond the tree and take your seasonal decorating to whole new level. Create a scene filled with festive joy and get your home holiday-ready with these tips from the holiday hosting experts at Macy's: Choose a theme: Designing around a specific theme is a simple way to keep your holiday decor from feeling cluttered. Your theme might be based on color or a favorite seasonal character like Santa or snowmen. If you're starting from scratch, begin with a few statement pieces and let your collection grow over time. Choose a new item or two each year, and soon you'll have a treasure trove of beloved holiday items that can brighten up your home. Cook up some fun: Whipping up dinner for a house full of guests won't feel like such a chore if you rely...