I'm working on an interview for Merrimack Valley Magazine with my friend the prolific and talented author Holly Robinson. The focus of the piece is her latest book, titled Beach Plum Island, which came out in April.
The novel is set on nearby Plum Island, a place of shifting sands and idyllic summer memories.
Each time I profile a writer I discover that the real story is so much bigger than what I can hope to capture in 800 words. There are stories within the story, all worthy of being told and of being written. Holly's case is no different.Because of that, I expect I might find myself quoting her here and there and everywhere.
For today, on this eve of Mother's Day weekend, I offer you a passage from Beach Plum Island. It will toll in the heart of every mother with grown children, resonating with sweet painful truth. And it will flit in and out of the minds of young mothers along with the hundreds of other helpless platitudes offered by those of us who have marched ahead: "Pay attention and enjoy this time! It will go by faster than you think."
Here it is.
"She supposed it was a universal truth that mothers, after tearing out their hair and tacking their raw beating hearts to the outsides of their clothing for anyone to see, were given no warning that someday their baby-holding days would be over. When that day came, there was no clanging bell or siren, no banner flown across the sky to pinpoint that single precious moment when you rocked your child for the last time."