Provence Dispatch

Greetings from the South of France...okay, so I'm not in France. I'm in frozen graysnow Chicago. But I'm thinking of the South of France. I'm thinking about the window of our bedroom at the Auberge des Seguins (the drawing above) and the overgrown pathways up the Roman cliffs above Buoux. The scattered colors and chaos of the Saturday country market in Apt. The mad Mediterranean in its shades of green and turquoise, the topless bathers of Marseilles, and the sly octopi in the bayside crates of the fishermen, reaching out through the slats and hissing, "Hey, Mon Ami!

Book club members have been some of my most enthusiastic and careful readers. I’m thrilled to share my work with you, answer your questions and tell you some of the stories behind the stories. This is our spot, just for us. Here, we can chat:  If I’m nearby, I’ll come and visit your club. Otherwise, we can Skype, talk over the phone or email. Sometimes, I’ll send surprises or hold contests.

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