Anne Faye

Back when Through the Open Window came out, I sent copies to both the East Longmeadow and Springfield (MA) Main Library. The East Longmeadow library plays a prominent role in the story and the main characters also take a visit to the Springfield Quadrangle (of which the Springfield Library is a part). I had checked a while later and the book wasn't listed in the on-line catalog so I figured both libraries had simply given the book away. I hoped they found a good home. Fast-forward three years. Just for fun, I plugged my name into the Cwmars catalog and lo and behold, there it was at the Springfield Library. Of course, I needed to go take a trip to visit my book. I may never see one of my books in a bookstore, but I got to see one at a library! I even checked it out! (I plan to bring it back tomorrow.)

Julia entered the nursing home, signed in on the volunteer form, and then, as was her custom, made her way to the chapel on the first floor. Ever since she had started volunteering there several years earlier, she had made a habit of stopping by to pay a short visit before embarking on her visits. Part of it was upbringing. Her mother took her to visits to Church all the time when she was little. They would go, spend a few minutes, light a candle and pray. She had always loved the quiet and peace she had found in those moments. Part of it was fear. She loved to come and visit the residents, read to them, and listen to their stories. It gave her life a small sense of purpose and she was happy to help, but it took all of her courage to walk into those rooms. As she herself aged, she found it even harder. No longer was she an indestructible young woman. Well into her thirties, she knew that the years passed by like a speeding train and that this was what life might hold for you as ...

Elizabeth’s Journal Saturday, May 17, 1941 Today was the day I’ve waited for and worked for so long – my college graduation. As I waited in line with my classmates, donned in my cap and gown, I reflected on the last four years. In some ways, it feels like we were just Freshmen, all nervously getting to know each other at orientation, being subject to the Senior’s pranks, and now, here we were, getting ready to say goodbye and face whatever waits for us outside these walls. I couldn’t help it – the tears started to fall. I was very thankful I had thought to tuck my handkerchief into the sleeve of my dress! We marched into the auditorium to the strains of “Pomp and Circumstance” as light filtering through the large stained glass windows danced through the room. I searched the faces for my family. There were so many people packed in the rows, I feared I would never find them, but Daddy’s height was a great blessing and I was able to locate his head in the crowd. He was smiling so pr...

Many thanks to Karee Santos for her review of "The Rose Ring": http://canwecana.blogspot.com/2013/04/the-rose-ring-review.html

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” her mother said, “but you look like you’ve put on a couple pounds. You need to make sure you get enough exercise. You can’t expect to find a man if you don’t take care of yourself. You aren’t getting any younger, you know.” Julia had just walked into the door of her parent’s house. All she wanted to do was turn around and walk out. “I do exercise,” Julia said as she put down her bag, “and, besides, I’m not even looking for a man.” “Yes, that’s the problem. You need to look. You can’t just expect a man to fall from the sky. You think Prince Charming is going to simply show up on your doorstep one day and whisk you away.” “I think no such thing. I don’t want a man at all. With the possible exception of Dad, men are overrated. I’m happy being single.” “Stop lying to yourself. Nobody could be happy the way you are,” she said. “Anyway, I think I have solved your problem. You should thank me.” These were words that Julia hated to hear. They us...

Many thanks go out to Janice Lane Palko for her kind review of The Rose Ring . Palko writes: If you are in the mood for a heartwarming, charming love story, you can't go wrong with "The Rose Ring." Please read the full review here: Book Review: The Rose Ring     

Elizabeth’s Journal Thursday, May 1, 1941 I met the most amazing man today. It was a beautiful day outside – perfect actually – and I wanted to be out in it so much, but I was stuck in the library, frantically trying to do research for my French literature paper that is hanging over my head like a lead weight. Graduation is only two weeks away and I simply must get it finished. So, there I was, poring over my books, when he came in. I don’t know what made me look up at that moment, but when I did, he was looking at me with his sapphire blue eyes. I honestly don’t know if I’ve ever seen eyes so blue. He smiled and I returned the pleasantry before wavering under his gaze. I pretended to be engrossed in my book. I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I couldn’t make out a word on the page. All I could feel were his eyes taking me in. He sat down across the table from me. I glanced up. He was still looking at me! Nobody has ever looked at me like that. I started to shake with nerves. I pr...

“After lunch, I was hoping you could help me with a project I’ve been putting off,” Julia’s mother stated. “But I brought over Rear Window ,” she appealed to her father, “the one with Jimmy Stewart. I was really looking forward to watching it.” “Your movie can wait until next week. It won’t kill the two of you to do something I want to do for a change.” Julia glanced over at her father, who was rhythmically eating his turkey on rye sandwich. He looked up briefly, caught her eye and shrugged. Obviously the battle was lost. “What did you have in mind?” Julia asked. “Your grandmother’s been dead for almost two years. It’s time that we go through her stuff. Every month, we pay for that storage unit to keep a bunch of junk that’s rotting away as we speak. The least we can do is give it away, and it shouldn’t be my job to go through it all by myself. Besides,” she added, “I figured there might be something in there you might want – you know, a memento or something.” “I don’t...