February was a short month– but that doesn’t mean we didn’t pack it full of fun stuff. Milder temps and a month devoted to love mades for multiple chances to celebrate with family and friends.
What Marybeth Was Into
Bookish events: A gathering of published authors in my area for a happy hour that turned into dinner. Appearing with several author friends at the very library I grew up going to. (A full circle moment for sure.) Lunch with author friends at a local winery. Visiting with a book club that served brownie batter dip with lots of fun things to dip into it!
Reading novels I couldn’t put down. I read THE MOST DANGEROUS PLACE ON EARTH, NUTSHELL, and THE MARRIAGE LIE (among other things, but these were the stand-outs)– and flew through all of them.
Valentine’s Day: flowers from my husband, our traditional “red” meal (spaghetti and cherry soda) with something chocolate for dessert, and the annual daddy/daughter dance.
A girls’ weekend with my cousin, who also served as the legal advisor for my newest novel. It’s possible I asked her way too many questions about her work as an assistant district attorney while we were together. We ate delicious food, sipped wine, talked a blue streak, and watched Oscar nominated movies. And speaking of the Oscars– and my widely-proclaimed love of La La Land– let’s just not talk about what happened, k?
Planning a new novel. This is my favorite part, when the story is still fresh and new and hasn’t given me any problems yet. I haven’t written myself into any corners, forgotten what I named the main character’s sister’s best friend, or discovered I have more things to research. Instead it’s all possibility and promise.
Planning in general. I’m loving these Frixion erasable pens and my duck egg blue personal size Filofax. My love for planners is as strong is my love for story. And that’s saying quite a lot.
What Ariel Was Into
To be completely honest, I didn’t do anything in February except finish my novel. That’s it. No fun. No adventures or trips or get-together’s with friends. I wrote. Edited. Revised. Polished. As you know, I had pneumonia in January so it was easy enough to decide that exercise was non-essential and bad for my health. But I also decided that cleaning the house and doing laundry was optional. Grocery shopping happened on a minimal basis and only when we were down to powdered milk and ramen noodles. My husband brought home pizza a lot. We also ate out more than usual. I didn’t get much sleep. You don’t even want to know about the decline in my personal grooming habits.
But I am happy to report that I sent the finished manuscript for I WAS ANASTASIA to my editor on Friday. It was a really tricky project and required every ounce of skill (and then some) that I possess in the areas of research and writing. It’s another historical mystery with multiple narrators and a unique structure. Now that it’s done (and din’t kill me), I can finally share a bit about the book. Here’s the semi-official description:
Ariel Lawhon has set her sights on one of history’s most beguiling mysteries: Did Anastasia Romanov survive the Russian Revolution, or was Anna Anderson, the woman who notoriously claimed her identity, an impostor?
Russia, July 17, 1918: Under direct orders from Vladimir Lenin, Bolshevik secret police force Anastasia Romanov, along with the entire imperial family, into a damp basement in Siberia where they face a merciless firing squad. None survive. At least that is what the executioners have always claimed.
Germany, February 17, 1920: A young woman bearing an uncanny resemblance to Anastasia Romanov is pulled shivering and senseless from a canal in Berlin. Refusing to explain her presence in the freezing water or even acknowledge her rescuers, she is taken to the hospital where an examination reveals that her body is riddled with countless, horrific scars. When she finally does speak, this frightened, mysterious young woman claims to be the Russian Grand Duchess.
As rumors begin to circulate through European society that the youngest Romanov daughter has survived the massacre at Ekaterinburg, old enemies and new threats are awakened. The question of who this woman is and what actually happened to Anastasia creates a saga that spans fifty years and three continents. This thrilling page-turner is every bit as moving and momentous as it is harrowing and twisted.
The view from my office at sunset. Because I spent so much time at my desk last month, this is the sight that greeted me every day around 5:30. I would often stand in the bay window that looks out on our back yard and stare at this sight. And then, once the colors melted into darkness, I got back to work.