What Does Love Have to Do With It?

What does love have to do with it? What does love have to do with anything?

I’ve been thinking about that, while I’m preparing to launch A House Full of Strangers, a collection of short stories, in a month. It’s a book about Ukrainian landladies, their families, and those who rented roomes from them. I loved writing it, so love infused the pages, too.

Writers love their characters. They are a part of us. They live and breathe on the page.

This past Easter weekend was Orthodox Easter, a holiday celebrated in the Ukrainian household I grew up in. I was taught Christ had died out of love for mankind; he died for our sins. His Father had made the ultimate sacrifice; He loved mankind so much He gave up his only son.

With that kind of foundation, I grew up trying to do my best, and to love my neighbour like myself.

For my family, Easter was also a time of Nature awakening, and the blessing of the food baskets after attending the Holy Liturgy. This was the last blessing my mother attended at her beloved church, St. Mary the Protectress in Winnipeg. I miss attending the services there; I miss hearing the wonderful choir sing.

My mother said Easter was better than Christmas. There was so much love in every dish she cooked and baked for the the twenty people—family and close friends—she had invited to come for the meal after the church service.

I’m at the head of the table, with my mother and baba on my right, and Father Mitiuk on my left.

It was my baba’s (grandmother’s) love for her family that gave her the strength she needed to survive WWI, the wars that followed, and the losses of those she loved. Love of her family also gave her the strength to leave her mother and the country she loved and immigrate to Canada. Her story is covered in my trilogy, Lukia’s Family Saga: Sunflowers Under Fire, Lilacs in the Dust Bowl, and Paper Roses on Stony Mountain.

You may not think love has anything to do with the news, but it does. Every person lost in the wars in the Middle East and in Ukraine is someone who is loved and will be missed.

It’s no secret that the leader of America is oblivious to other people’s pain. He has no love for anyone. He’s a man who, according to his niece Mary Trump, a psychologist, did not get the love he needed. She says on her website: “We are here because the one thing Donald most desperately needs, and has never gotten, and will never get because of how damaged and depraved his own father rendered him, is love.”

We can’t afford to be blinded by what is going on, but we need to look beyond the news. Last year, I read a book called Humankind by Rutger Bregman, which is all about the love we show our fellow man. That love is everywhere we look.

The Pope has spoken out about this and more. Other moral leaders need to stand up to Trump, Netanyahu, and Putin, leaders of evil. We cannot give up hope. We are stronger together. People in the world have stamped out evil before. We can do it again.

I poured a lot of love into my short story collection. To write all the tales, set in the 1940s and 1950s, I borrowed from my memories of living in a rooming house from birth until the day I got married.

My collection of short stories has already received a lovely Five Star review from Readers’ Favorite:

For Readers’ Favorite, Carol Thomson writes: “Readers who enjoy historical fiction and character-centered storytelling will find A House Full of Strangers appealing, particularly those interested in stories about community, perseverance, and life shaped by changing circumstances.”

Here’s a taste of what you’ll find between the covers of A House Full of Strangers—the opening of the first story, a novella “Something in the Blood.”

“With the boys finally asleep, Irene Melnyk sat down at the Arborite kitchen table to write the letter she didn’t want to write. She filled her fountain pen from the bottle of black ink by her writing pad, then stared out the window at the snow-covered backyard where the children’s sled lay half-buried. The evening light was fading, and the sky was slowly turning an inky blue. Their neighbours had switched on the lamps in their living rooms, perhaps reclining in an easy chair to read, or listen to a soap opera on the radio. No music or stories played in Irene’s house. It seemed almost too quiet for the storm in her mind. Should she or shouldn’t she write this letter? When she looked down at the stationery pad, her hand was shaking. She told herself to calm down if she wanted to write anything legible. This was too important a letter to mess up.

How had it come to this? The world she inhabited no longer seemed to be hers. She’d been walking about in a trance ever since the doctor had given her the news she’d feared. She tried to stay cheerful for her children’s sake and, of course, for Nick, but her grim thoughts pushed any cheer aside. Just yesterday, she had been so caught up with her thoughts that she burned her hand on the element while stirring cabbage soup on the stove, and then, on a visit to the grocery store, she teared up when a neighbour simply said hello. She mumbled an apology before walking away. Grab ahold of yourself, Irene, she said to herself. You’re twenty-four, and you’ve got two children who depend on you. Yes, she had them and a very sick husband.

Putting her grim thoughts aside, she picked up her cigarette from the amber glass ashtray and flicked off the long ash that had accumulated. She took a long puff and blew out a ribbon of smoke. Opening the pad of paper, she began to write on the blank page. First, the date, then Dear Mama. The ink wasn’t even dry on the page when she scratched out Dear Mama. She crumpled the paper in her fist and threw it into the wastebasket by the door.

The ebook is available for PRE-ORDER now on Kindle, Kobo, Apple, Nook, etc. It’s a good way to guarantee you won’t forget to order the book. I don’t know about you, but I get distracted. I leave notes for myself and then forget to look at the notes. :) The paperback will be available for order on May 9th at your favourite booksellers.

For months I’ve been thinking about having a book launch at a bookstore, like Mulberry Bush Bookstore, in Qualicum Beach, B.C., where I’ve had tremendous support or also at our local library. I’ll let you know in the next newsletter what my plans are. Love in A House Full of Strangers

Speaking of love, I had a lovely interview about my book, Along Came A Gardener, with Sonia Bodnar from Ukrainian Kontakt TV. Though the title is in Ukrainian, the interview is in English. What a great interviewer! Sonia asked some very interesting questions about my inspirational book, that is both self-help and memoir based on my 25 years working in mental health.

Thank you, Sonia!

Along Came a Gardener is available on all major bookseller sites or through order from your favourite bookstore.

I just finished reading Dark Eyes by Nina Romano. A love story between Anya, a Russian ballerina, and Andrei, a photographer working for the Russian police is also a mystery about a couple of murders, ones that had brought the two together. It’s a well-written historical fiction set largely in St. Petersburg by a writer I’ve been following for years.

I had previously abandoned The Piano Man’s Daughter by Timothy Findley, but after my husband raved about the story, I’m reading it again and loving it. Maybe it’s the way I read. I tend to read quickly. Findley is not an author you can read quickly. His words are ones to savour; his sentences pack a punch. He writes about love, both the joy and pain of it, and he makes the characters come alive, as only he can do it.

One of my favourite books of Findley’s is the novella, You Went Away. I plan to re-read it again. Set in 1942, it’s a story about a romantic young R.C.A.F. pilot who captures the heart of a young married woman with an eleven-year-old son. She has a neglectful, philandering husband—so no wonder she strays. Again, we all want and need love.

Another beautiful novel about love is Elizabeth and After by Matt Cohen, a Governor General’s Award winner. Elizabeth is deceased at the beginning of the novel, but she leaves behind some secrets, ones that will shock her husband and adult son. The novel covers her years in a small farming community peopled by characters struggling to make sense of their own lives. I’d never read anything by Cohen before, but now I’m a fan. I hope to read more of his works.

I love my back, but it can’t serve me in the same way anymore. I’m getting another MRI this week. Though the orthopedic surgeon in our area is a good surgeon, he was honest with me and said, “I’m not the best spine surgeon. I do hips, elbows, wrists, and spines. I take twice as long to do spine surgery as a spine surgeon who does it all the time.”

That last part is a consideration. The time under an anesthetic can affect your cognitive memory—especially at my age. And where would I be as a writer if I didn’t have my memory? So, I’ll be looking for a well-established spine surgeon after I get my MRI results back.

Speaking of memory, I discovered prolonged use of one of my pain meds can lead to permanent memory loss. As my mother would say, “Oy,” which I think explains everything. :)

I immediately called my pharmacist and he gave me the okay to reduce the dosage. Much better!! I’ll be talking to my GP about that one.

Spring has arrived on Vancouver Island. Our yard is blooming with wonderful flowers.

With the gift of new buds and flowers everywhere, Nature is showing her love. I hope you have a happy spring! Thanks for subscribing.

Warmly,