Something about Sophie

Mary Kay McComas's 5 Firsts and Lasts

Something_About_SophieToday's guest: Mary Kay McComas Why we love her: Her writing is soulful...

Her latest: Something about Sophie

The scoop on it: Answering a call that summons her to a stranger's deathbed, a reluctant Sophie Shepard is too late to hear what he was so anxious to tell her. What was so important that a dying man would think of her in his final moments? With the help of Dr. Drew McCarren, Sophie begins to dig into her past, setting off a chain of events that chills the quiet town of Clearfield, Virginia to its roots.

With part of her wanting nothing more than to put Clearfield behind her and run back home, Sophie knows she won't rest until she discovers the truth. But growing closer to the residents also means uncovering their dark secrets: about the woman who gave her up for adoption, the mysterious part these strangers played, and the life she never knew she nearly had.

Something About Sophie is an unforgettable story about the power of love...and the things people will do, both right and wrong, to protect it.

Our thoughts:  A must read on your Spring Break!

Giveaway: 5 copies. Leave a comment and be entered to win. Winners will be selected on Sunday, April 7th after 12pm PST.

Fun fact: You can read an excerpt of Something About Sophie here.

Where you can read more about Mary Kay: Her website or Facebook.



FIRST: Ugh. My first non-family kiss was an icky wet peck from a boy I didn't really like in 8th grade at our 'Graduation Dance'. We were slow dancing to The Beach Boys' Surfer Girl and to this day whenever I hear it, I get the willies.

LAST: My last kiss was so much better! My husband of 35 years and I kissed this morning before he left for work.


My first book was Dick and Jane. I memorized it: See Dick. See Dick and Jane go. See Dick and Jane and Spot. It was a childhood thriller that kept every first grader of my acquaintance on the edge of their seats. It ends well though: See Spot and Puff run and play.

The last book I read was Captain Vorpatril's Alliance by the clever Lois McMaster Bujold. It's the latest in the Vorkosigan Saga series, all of which are wonderful. And they're science fiction, which is incredible because I never read science fiction ... well, not the space alien, neuro-blaster, shuttleport kind. However, the hero of the Bujold books (many of the secondaries, too) define the word 'character' in its every sense and they're laugh out loud funny as well. Strong, distinct personalities and humor ... my kind of book in any dimension.


FIRST: If this refers my first physical risk then there is an old family story of my dad being up high on scaffolding, painting our two story house and sort of keeping an eye on me at age 3 or 4 playing with my dolls on the lawn below. He got called away briefly -- "for 5 minutes" he always said -- and when he came back my pink baby bed was as white as our house and his paintbrush was in the grass beside it ... and not with the paint can, high up on the scaffolding, where he'd left it. My last huge physical risk was having a 9cm aortic aneurysm repaired a few years ago. It sort of put all my other physical risks in perspective.

But I actually think that emotional risks present themselves more often and have higher stakes. My first clear memory is of my first day of first grade and watching my mom drive away without me -- I didn't die on the spot, so I have to imagine that my first risk came shortly after that when I had to figure out how to cope with the teacher and the other kids. I was painfully shy.

LAST: I do, however, have a clearer memory of my last emotional risk which was to apologize to a friend. Not the 'oops, sorry' kind of apology that's mostly just good manners -- but a real act of contrition for being thoughtless and possibly hurting her feelings. I was fairly certain she'd forgive me but still, it wasn't easy.


FIRST: I was the third of six kids and while I was never neglected I did sometimes feel a little ... overlooked. But I had this aunt who lived in Seattle and from the time I was about 10 years old she would ask me to come stay with her for a few weeks in the summer -- just me, no one else. I mean, ever. None of my sisters or brothers were ever asked to stay with her, just me. I felt very special and it was more than just a hell ya moment for me. Every year it was an Oh-hell-ya!-I'm-leavin'-and-you-all-have-to-stay-home-to-do-summer-chores! moment.

LAST: I think my most recent hell ya moments have involved my children. A college graduation -- hell ya it was worth the sacrifices. A good solid grownup job -- hell ya, you're ready and hell ya, they're getting the best guy for the job! And hell ya, I'm turning your room into my arts and crafts studio!


I think my first Aha! moment -- the one that made the greatest impression on me anyway -- was when I finally realized that not doing well in school doesn't mean you're not intelligent, it just means your talents are elsewhere.

My latest aha! came a few weeks ago -- though I feel I should have pick up on it years ago. It explains SO much. My friends and I were out shopping -- for purses. I hate to shop, so naturally my more fashion conscious pals are responsible for making sure I'm not so tacky they feel they must sneak off and leave me in the ladies room. So ... purses ... they kept trying to foist these big bulky diaper bag looking things on me and I kept gravitating back to the clutch wallets. Finally, our purse guru stepped in and said, "She'll never carry one that big ... she's too tall." We stared at her. She held out her hands, it was Purse Shopping 101 to her. "She already feels like she takes up more than her fair share of space, a big bag only makes it worse." Well, I don't know if her theory is all that sound but the rest of the afternoon, and since then, I have been so aware that big and tall women tend to carry small to medium sized purses -- and that thin and average to short women carry suit cases. Just watch ....

Thanks Mary Kay!