My family doesn’t have a lot of holiday traditions -- in part because my mother died early and simply wasn’t there to start them. So I live vicariously through the long-standing traditions of friends, and I get pleasure hearing the stories of others.

On that score, I received an amazing letter last week from a reader of mine, Pamela DuVall. It is so beautifully written, and so captures the holiday spirit, that I asked if I could reprint it for you all to see. She gave her permission.

“Dear Barbara, I thought it was time to write you and thank you for your wonderful work. I am 44, a wife and mother of two daughters, living in Folsom, California. My Mother passed away from cancer in 1999. She was 56. I, like she, loved to read. Every year, I couldn't wait to get my hands on the tell-tale wrapped book under the Christmas tree with my name on it. Growing up, I generally devoured the gift in three days. As an adult, I looked forward to spending a few minutes here and there, reading her pick of the year. On December 25, 1998, my mother gave me the last of the 'Christmas books'. She died in May of 1999. My mother and I were very close. Because of the caring nature of my husband and family, I was able to spend much of the last months with her. It was the greatest gift of my life. So, why am I writing to you? Well, I had lost my desire to read and went years without the hunger for the written word. Last Christmas, I felt a familiar twinge, and began looking for the book my Mother had given me in 1998. After opening a few covers, I found her signature tag line: Pam, Merry reading '98! Love, Mom and Dad. It was "Coast Road", and I wrapped my self in a hand knit afgan and began to read! I have since read "For My Daughters", "The Woman Next Door", and just finished "Family Tree". As a long-time knitter, I think "Family Tree" is my favorite, oh, perhaps, second to "Coast Road". I will be picking up "Three Wishes" to start tomorrow. Thank you for your inspiring stories and your part in bringing me back to the joy of reading!”

Thank you, Pam, for sharing such heartfelt thoughts. It is particularly meaningful to me to share your letter today, which is the anniversary of my own mother's death. I like to think that book-giving is something she might have done. Putting books at the center of a holiday tradition is the best idea ever, especialy when it immortalizes the giver. Please think of your mom each time you read Coast Road.

As for the rest of us, here we are, less than two weeks from Christmas. If anyone out there hasn’t found quite the right gift yet, please reread Pam’s note and think of starting a tradition with a book. What is that big blank front page meant for if not an inscription?

Do you already have holiday traditions that live on, year after year? I’d love to hear about them as we approach Christmas 2007. Why not post a comment here for all of us to read?

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 03:11 PM | Permalink | Comments (8)

Funny, you finish writing a book and the pub date seems off in the far distant future. So you start another book and, maybe, focus on the trade paperback publication of a book like Family Tree. Then you get into the holiday season, with all the distraction that brings, and you don’t even really sit up and take notice when the marketing department asks for promo material. But suddenly your publicist sends a short little email saying, “Finished books should be here soon. Very exciting!” And, voom, it hits you. The new book, specifically, The Secret Between Us, is almost out!

My book group just held its December meeting. Now, I won’t let them formally discuss my books – did I ever tell you that? But I do keep them apprised of the progress of each book as I write it, and they know when each book is set to be published. What a support group they’ve been! Women's groups are that way, but for me, one that deals with books is extra-special. They appreciate what it takes to get a book published. The Secret Between Us has gotten some fabulous early reviews, and my book group colleagues have promptly emailed them around.

How not to catch their excitement? How not to sense the anticipation when I talk with my agent or editor? How not to realize that the time is nearing when my kids start looking for their copies?

I’m often asked whether I still get excited seeing my name on a book. I’m not sure the name itself excites me. But the fact of a story of mine suddenly making its public debut is thrilling. Chilling, too. I want this baby of mine to succeed.

So that’s where I stand, some six weeks from publication. The countdown goes on …

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 02:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Forecasters are predicting more dicey weather this weekend – the possibility of a mix of snow and rain. And, boy, does my mother’s instinct kick in when I hear this. I remember panicking when my boys were just starting to drive and this kind of forecast came on. Snow alone isn't too bad. Nor is rain. It’s the mix that’s the worst. When you can’t quite see how slippery it is – that’s when there’s trouble. Hit a patch of black ice, and you’re skidding before you know what’s happened!

My assistant is going through this with a new driver right now, and my heart goes out to her. On one hand, our kids need to learn to drive in bad weather. On the other, we don’t want them getting into accidents in the process. What’s a mother to do?

Apparently, I’ve internalized this dilemma so long that it finally burst out into a book. That’d be my new one, The Secret Between Us. Deborah Monroe does let her sixteen-year-old daughter drive in a storm, with devastating consequences. Oh, there are other issues in the book, and when I was writing it, I had no way of knowing that it would be published in the middle of the bad driving season. Still, hearing our weather forecast, I can’t help but think of Deborah and Grace.

The Secret Between Us goes on sale January 22. If you’d like a preview, you can find Chapters 1 and 2 posted here. No, I"m not shamelessly promoting my book (well, maybe a little), but mostly I want you to stay inside this winter and read. And if you do have to go out, please, please, please drive safely!

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 07:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

We have a winner of the Family Tree Contest. She is Nancy Ferer of Englewood, New Jersey,and she will be receiving my DVD, plus ten copies of the new trade paperback edition of Family Tree for her book group. Congrats, Nancy. And my thanks to all of you who entered. Please keep an eye out for more contests. I’ll certainly be doing another one this winter.

Winter? Why does the word itself sound cold? Maybe because, as I write this, the country is in the grips of its first widespread snowstorm of the season. The mid-west was socked. New England won’t be quite as bad. Still, there’s snow falling outside right now, the roads are icy, and the forecast is for more of the same.

I work at home and won’t have to leave the house today. That’ll make it a good work day – though you can be sure that I’ll be clicking on SAVE more often than usual. This is the kind of weather when we lose our lights, and I’ve learned the hard way the price of not backing things up. There’s nothing worse than losing hard-fought pages, even a paragraph or two, then trying to rewrite them as they were the first time.

Right now, I'm working on my 2009 book, While My Sister Sleeps. I'll blog about that process later this week. And next week? Look for Chapter 2 of The Secret Between Us. It doesn't go on sale in stores until January 22, but I'll be posting Chapter 2 on my site. Chapter 1 is here now. Take a look. If you're on my mailing list, you'll get an email as soon as I post Chapter 2. If you're not on my list, sign up here.

Back to meteorological stuff. A few minutes ago, when I was looking at the weather forecast, I saw that the length of the day is now 9.2 hrs. That’s pretty grim. The good news is that in a little more than two weeks, we’ll hit rock bottom for darkness. Then it starts going up. What a nice thought.

Stay warm, you all!

Posted by Barbara Delinsky at 06:33 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)