Margaret Ann Spence Coming Home
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Lipstick Launches!

Lipstick on the StrawberryI am so excited that my book, Lipstick on the Strawberry, will be officially launched by The Wild Rose Press on July 5! Its been wonderful to work with this small publisher, which has consistently been named best book publisher by author websites.

People always ask me about what my title means. Photographers do weird things to make food more visually appetizing. They spritz a cake with hairspray, decorate a pie with shaving cream, and swipe a pale strawberry with lipstick to make it glisten. When I learned that, I knew I had my book title. My caterer protagonist, Camilla, always felt unable to live up to her family’s expectations. After returning to England for her father’s funeral, she finds that beneath the veneer of respectability lie imperfection and secrets.

Here’s an excerpt, to give you the flavor:

My fingers searched the back of the drawer and felt something glossy. I pulled, and saw in my hand a colored photograph of a woman who looked to be about the age I was now. She had hair the color of fallen leaves. Only the woman’s shoulders were visible below the head, she was wearing a scarf of blue and green, which reflected the color of her laughing eyes. In the background was the blurred green of a field. I flicked the photo over. The penciled initials N.B. were the only notation.

A cold prickle ran down my back as I stared at it. I tucked the photo into my pocket. How peculiar was it to find this woman’s image stuffed in the back of a drawer? Daddy had gone to pains to hide the picture. In one hand, I lifted the plastic bags of trash, picked up the passport in the other, and went to find Tilda.

“Would you mind if I went home and rested?” I asked. “I feel a headache coming on.”

“Yes, of course. What did you find in there? Oh, good, Daddy’s passport. I’d like to keep that. How thoughtful of you. Anything else of interest?”

I turned so Tilda couldn’t see and fingered the pocketed photo. The letters N.B. intrigued me. Was this just the acronym to remind our father of something important? Or did it mean something else?

Lipstick on the Strawberry, by Margaret Ann Spence, available at The Wild Rose Press, Amazon, nook, bookstrand, kobo and itunes.

The Two Family House

By Lynda Cohen Loigman
St. Martin’s Griffin, 2016


This debut novel captures a time, a place and a culture – a Jewish community in New York in the 1940’s, 50’s and 60’s. Two brothers settle their families in one two-family house in Brooklyn. The brothers work together, and as their fortunes improve, one family after the other moves out of the house and to the suburbs of Long Island.

But this is not the plot. Without being a spoiler, I can say that this story revolves around the sisters-in- law, Rose, wife of Mort, and Helen, wife of Abe. Helen has four boys and wants a girl, and Rose has three girls and longs for a boy to satisfy her unhappy husband.

This novel is remarkable in that Loigman so deeply and honestly probes the emotions of the female characters. The story aroused all sorts of complicated feelings in me.

Many cultures have and do still value the birth of boys over girls. Yet parents of girls consistently say they feel closer to girls. This is true of both fathers and mothers.

For me, being the only girl in a big family of brothers, and growing up to have sons but not daughters, family life involved a certain rough and tumble, noise and mayhem. Dainty it was not. On the plus side, being an only girl carried with it a sense of specialness. And I’ve always felt I understood men and forgave them for their lapses. All men, to me, are at their core vulnerable little boys and I’ve never felt that they were the enemy.

Yet I always wanted a sister and a daughter and envied my mother’s own close relationship with her sisters. I also remember an acquaintance who had two sons and a daughter. She lost her daughter to cancer and said the loss was so enormous because with the boys “it was not the same.”

Loigman raises several questions: One is how far should a woman go to give her husband a son if that is the only thing that will please him? And are all sisters really good friends and confidantes? Do all mothers like their daughters? What if neither mother nor father cares for them deeply, since none satisfies the desperate need for a boy? Or conversely, will a mother who gets a girl be happier in the long term than the one who gets a boy?

This story is told in several viewpoints, those of the two brothers and their wives, and that of two of the girls. The four boys of Abe and Helen who are already born by the start of the book are distinguishable only by name. Whether Loigman is making a point about gender – that girls are more complicated and interesting – or simply letting the story tell itself from the point of view of those most affected by the plot’s premise is unspoken. This is a book that will linger for me, with its layers of questions and emotions.