Summer vacation when I was a child meant three months with nothing to do. My family always retreated to our old home in the mountains where there were no TVs, no computers, no cell phones and few people. At first it was boring and the slower pace of life was as difficult to adjust to as jet lag. But it was also a relief to have no looming deadlines, no to-do lists and no expectations other than the ones I placed on myself.
Soon I filled my time with hiking, swimming, reading, writing, art, music and the most inspiring thing of all, just doing nothing. When older relatives visited, we sat around the campfire. They told stories while I asked questions. We played scrabble and cards and so many simple games that I can’t even remember. Sometimes we tried to outdo each other by making up off-the-cuff stories and poems. There was only one downside to my leisurely summers. When I returned to school in the fall, I hadn’t spent my days watching movies and drinking soda, so I was seriously behind on my movie watching and sugar intake.
Sometimes when my daughter and I are overwhelmed with commitments, endless to-do lists, the internet, phones and gadgets, I find myself wishing that the electricity would go out. Then we would have an excuse to do nothing but tell stories, play games and shape animals out of softened candle wax.
I do try to create times when we have nothing to do, but it’s not always easy. Sometimes we go camping or hiking or we just sit in the backyard and look at the stars. Sometimes we talk. Other times we are silent. At least for a little while, we have nothing to do and in that moment, we have everything.
Publisher’s Weekly Review for ‘The Wife of John the Baptist’, quarter-finalist in the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award.
It’s always a pleasure and a relief to receive a positive review, especially from a source such as The Publisher’s Weekly. Only a few more weeks to go before they announce the next round of finalists. Wish me luck!
This is not the John of the Gospels. Instead, he is sensual, sociable, humorous, easy-going, flirtatious, and sexually active. And, yes, he is married. And a father. This previously unexplored angle is deftly traced by the woman of the title, Hessa, daughter of a Greek trader in the Roman province of Judea, who is possessed of the unique ability of knowing the history of an object and the character of a person simply by touch. Fleeing her father’s wrath after their marriage, the two wander the desert, moving from one encampment of outsiders to the next. All the while, John vehemently rejects the title of prophet pressed on him by those drawn by his magnetism, yet gradually, despite all his protestations, he grows into his Biblical role and the fate that goes with it. The route of the narrative from man to martyr is richly told and well crafted, introducing Zealots, Essenes, other cults gathered along the River Jordan and, most chillingly, the cruel torments of the Roman occupation of Judea. And finally, in a refreshing surprise that demonstrates the manuscript is strong enough to stand on its own, Jesus only has a walk-on role.