Our guest today: Mia March Why we love her: Her books hit all the right notes.
Her latest: Finding Colin Firth
The scoop: After losing her job and leaving her beloved husband, journalist Gemma Hendricks is sure that scoring an interview with Colin Firth will save her career and marriage. Yet a heart-tugging local story about women, family ties, love, and loss captures her heart— and changes everything. The story concerns Bea Crane, a floundering twenty-two-year-old who learns in a deathbed confession letter that she was adopted at birth. Bea is in Boothbay Harbor to surreptitiously observe her biological mother, Veronica Russo—something of a legend in town—who Bea might not be ready to meet after all. Veronica, a thirty-eight-year-old diner waitress famous for her “healing” pies, has come home to Maine to face her past. But when she’s hired as an extra on the bustling movie set, she wonders if she is hiding from the truth . . . and perhaps the opportunity of a real-life Mr. Darcy.
These three women will discover more than they ever imagined in this coastal Maine town, buzzing with hopes of Colin Firth. Even the conjecture of his arrival inspires daydreams, amplifies complicated lives, and gives incentive to find their own romantic endings
Our thoughts: LOVED it just as much as Mia's delightful debut, The Meryl Streep Movie Club!
Giveaway: TWO copies-just leave a comment to be entered--we 'll choose the winners after 3pm PST on July 14th.
CHICK LIT IS NOT DEAD PRESENTS...MIA MARCH'S 5 FIRSTS AND LASTS
First kiss: For two summers in a row at my sleepaway camp, I had a very serious crush on a tall, skinny boy named Milo who played the drums in the camp band. Finally, the summer I turned 13, he asked me to the ice cream social and leaned over and kissed me on the lips while waiting for our butter pecan cones (both picked same flavor, which I of course thought meant we were destined for each other). It happened so fast I almost missed it, so I kissed him. A counselor came over wagging her finger at us, but we sneaked in a few more over the next hour. A nice memory. I have no idea what became of Milo.
Last kiss: I recently adopted an adorable beagle mix with the cutest face ever, so I kissed her on the snout just moments ago. I kiss her velvety ears all the time too.
First book: The first book I remember reading is Caps for Sale: A Tale of a Peddler, Some Monkeys and Their Monkey Business by Esphyr Slobodkina. I loved those tsking monkeys in the trees. When my son was very little, he’d ask for that book every night at bedtime and couldn’t wait to get the pages with the naughty monkeys.
Last book: I just started The Engagements by J. Courtney Sullivan. The story of how the slogan Diamonds Are Forever came about it is so fascinating!
First risk: The first real risky move I made involved moving from New York City to Maine almost ten years ago. A city of eight million to a town of eight thousand. I wasn’t sure what small town life would be like, but turns out I love it and was meant for white picket fences all along. Or maybe just now.
Last risk: This does not sound all that risky, but adopting a dog (as a first time dog owner) from a local shelter scared the beehoosus out of me. As a cat person, I didn’t know anything about dogs except that they barked and required potty walks. But one look at that precious beagle’s face at the shelter, and I fell in love. She was so mellow and gentle and sweet! Three months later, it’s as if she was always with us. She may be the only dog (and beagle) who rarely barks.
HELL YA MOMENT
First: When I typed The End on the last page of my debut novel. I felt electric.
Last: Is it too boring that it involves piecrust? I’d been working on my homemade piecrust for a while and something was always meh about it until recently. Frozen butter is the key to the hell ya forkful.
First: I was twelve and read Wuthering Heights for English class. Oh, Catherine and Heathcliff! That book started my love of reading the classics—and my love of brooding heroes. In my twenties I went on vacation to England and walked the very moors where the Bronte sisters dreamed up their novels. Those moors and those sisters inspired me to write.
Last: I know I sound obsessed with my sweet little dog (okay, I am), but who knew that having a dog would be this wonderful? (Everyone but me, apparently.) Walking her 4 times a day gives me open space to stop and smell the blue hydrangeas (abundant here in Maine) and contemplate story ideas and plot points. As I type right now, she’s curled up next to me, her chin on my thigh.