Writing is a solitary occupation, which suits me just fine. I am at my happiest when we’re rocking gently at anchor and I’m tucked in on the starboard settee, my computer open on the table in front of me, a cup of coffee within easy reach, the oil lamp swinging gently overhead.

Working in my treehouse when we’re at Meadowlark is almost as good—in some ways it’s better: my coffee never slides across the table when I’m not paying attention. And when I’m stuck, I can gaze out the window at cows grazing in the meadow below the treehouse.

So getting myself ready for the launch of Sea Over Bow is a bit of a stretch. It all starts on Sunday, November 25^th at 2pm with a reading and book signing at The Bookshelf in Guelph. I’ve already sorted out what I’ll read, and what I’ll wear. I’ve even bought new boots for the occasion: I call them my writer’s boots and will wear them to give myself courage.

I’m feeling better about the launch now that books have finally arrived. Delays in printing have been frustrating, but they’re in stores now. The e-version of the book is out, too. Amazon, Chapters, and my publisher, Signature Editions, all offer it online.

But what’s really making me feel confident are the initial reviews which have begun to appear. Below is my first online review at Chapters. Yes, it makes me blush, but it feels so good to be read—and praised. Who wouldn’t like that?

If you live in the area, I hope you’ll come to the launch next Sunday. I’ll try to be brave, but if it’s too much for a quiet, introverted writer, I’ll just tap my heels together, close my eyes, and say, “There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.”

Okay. I promise not to do that. I’ll give you a bit of background on the book, read for you, answer questions, sign books, and we’ll have a great afternoon together.

And you can admire my new writer’s boots.

Prepare to be swept along with Sea Over Bow! 

I’m no sailor, but I felt like I was a stowaway on Linda Kenyon’s passage through the storms of the North Atlantic, and through the tempest of her past. Alone on the night watch, with no moorings or landforms, it turns out to be all too easy for her to lose her bearings and let her mind flood with painful memories and self-doubt. The narrative flows from one timeline to another, through multiple generations of women attempting to navigate the shoals of their lives. As well, maternal warnings float up, on ancient waves of fear and vulnerability. Yet, in the present, in the context of her new relationship, Kenyon is awash in the delights of shipboard terminology, food, sea light and wildlife–and the terrors of “proper North Atlantic gales.” This tumultuous immersion in the senses transforms her from passenger in life to sailor: a woman able to adapt, to take risks, to acknowledge her own bravery, and, above all, to find and celebrate the joy of the moment. In the end, she may have buried her past at sea and have her future in sight on the horizon, but I am left becalmed, wanting to know what happened when they sailed the boat back. It seems I’ll have to wait for the sequel…

–M. Jeanne Yardley