Years back, soon after I signed up with Penguin Ireland with The Catalpa Tree, my editor and publicist asked if I had a website. No, I said, I did not, and I wasn’t planning on getting one. They were surprised – every author, by then, had a website, because websites made it easier for readers…
So, it was something of a moving-around type of situation when I was growing up. My father was a diplomat, but I prefer to say that both my parents were diplomats, since the diplomatic spouse...
The letters kept coming. She wrote of Bormio, of winter-white hills and Alpine ridges hanging from the skies, of streets busy with get-there skiers and lithe ski instructors in sausage-skin suits. She described the brittle...