I know the photo of that handsome devil on top doesn't look like a Viola Shipman, but he is! I first met uber-popular memorist Wade Rouse at Kathy L. Murphy's exuberant Pulpwoods Queens event. Imagine 500 people and 30 writers, and all the writers had to dress in circus gear and serve barbecue to the guests. Being a vegetarian, this was hard for me to do, but Wade and his husband Gary began joking with me, putting me at ease, and soon I was on the floor in stitches. And they kept me that way through the 3-day event. We've all stayed friends and I am thrilled to announce Wade/Viola's new book, THE CHARM BRACELET.
For his pen name, Wade chose his grandmother's name to honor the woman whose charms, life and lessons inspired his debut novel.
I was lucky enough to read an early manuscript of this novel and fell in love with it so much I provided a blurb which appears on the back cover. I'm excited to be able to pair with the author on a giveaway that truly captures the beauty and meaning of the novel, in which the charms on a grandmother's heirloom bracelet reconnect her to her daughter and granddaughter and remind them of what's most important in life: family, friends, and a passion for what you do.
You can win a signed copy of this book, as well as a $100 Pandora gift card, if you please respond with a story (and photo, if you can) of your favorite heirloom and what it means to you. I will announce a winner a week from today (the 29th) by having my husband select a random number based on the total number of entries. Good luck, and please pre-order Wade's beautiful book today from your favorite bookseller.
8 comments:
Oh, I remember my grandmother's charm bracelet! I thought each charm was magical - she'd collected them over the years, mainly presents from my grandfather symbolizing various things - so maybe they were!!
I don't have anything from my grandmothers except memories I carry with me everyday. But I have my mother's Ronson cigarette lighter mechanical pencil. The body of it Rhodium plated silver. I was thrilled to hear the scratch of the flint, see the spark, and the burst of flame. Cigarette smoking was magical back then.
My favorite heirloom is my grandmother's diamond necklace that she gifted to me on her wedding day. It was made from her own wedding ring. I'm thrilled to own it and always to have a piece of her.
I have a bell collection from my grandmother. When she was young, she was quite bold and traveled all over Europe and a bit in the Middle East. She told wonderful tales of Paris and living over a boulangerie. During her travels she collected bells and kept them in a glass case that I would sit and look sometimes when I visited her house. Each one had a story to it and as a whole they represented, to me, freedom and adventure.
A strand of pearls that belonged to my grandmother. I don't know much about it & don't think it has much monetary value, but it's the only thing I own that once belonged to one of my grandparents. I try to live a minimal lifestyle, so luxury items aren't very important to me, however, having my home adorned with items that tell stories about my life & those I love is extremely important & that necklace is truly one of those items.
My favorite heirloom is my grandmother's locket. It's a gold-plated picture album with hinged pages, each page a frame. It holds the original six photos my grandmother cut into ovals and installed there. My grandfather in his straw hat, Uncle James, Aunt June, Aunt Lee, my mother Sadie, and Grandma's own photo--Grandma in her summer dress and hat. The children pictured are in their teenage years, so the locket evidently dates from the 1930's. My grandmother did more than anyone else to help me feel valued and I love carrying my family with me.
And the WINNER (picked by my husband) is WENDY! Wendy please, send me your address to carleavitt@hotmail.com.
Congratulations to all of you!
Caroline
I grew up with an aunt who had down syndrome. She was always so happy. I loved her more than anything. I had no care that she was 35 years old. She acted like a small 5 year old child and that was good enough for me. Her name was Peggy Kenlyn Eaton. I was always proud and also very protective of her. I didn't realize the latter of those two things until I brought her as my "Special Person" to school with me. My teacher picked a student a week to bring their "Special Person". I was finally getting my turn. My grandparents brought her to school a little late, so my class was outside for our break. My heart swelled with pride when I saw her dressed up, and carrying the same little purse with her most precious possession, her "Happy Stone". She never went anywhere without it. Someone at a school she attended painted her face on a little stone with her bright red hair, and her little tongue that was always outside of her mouth a little,(that last part was at her request)and she loved it my heart swelled with pride.
Immediately my teacher had me introduce her, and then quickly each classmate introduced themselves. A few moments later, my friends began asking her questions, and she answered them as best she could. She would repeat herself often in the third person, I had never noticed this until that moment. It just was as she had always been. I worried as I studied each of my classmates faces. And then it happened.
A group of boys sitting on a brick ledge that backed up to another home's backyard started whispering and laughing every time she spoke. I saw red, but gently took her hand to guide her away from them. As we turned our backs to the boys, they started mimicking her. She turned to look at them and just laughed and laughed. She knew nothing but happiness. I however, knew other emotions. One boy stuck his tongue out of her mouth and mocked her laughing. I dropped her hand, and in my little Catholic school uniform marched straight towards her offenders. The boy mocking her continued even as I stood in front of him. I tightened my little fist and punched him square in the face, knocking him off that ledge into the rhubarb garden on the other side. The best part.....he bit his tongue. I got in trouble of course, but not much considering the act.
To this day, it never leaves me. When I am saddened because of an illness that unfortunately now will never leave, I just look at this little stone. And I smile.
And now I see the contest is over. But I'm going to post this anyway. I hope no one minds.
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