As Debra Sherrill struggles to cope with an unexpected divorce and her teenage son struggles to grow into manhood, a young singer-songwriter is charting her own course that will soon run headlong into both of theirs. On Nana's Shoulders is the story of families--their unraveling and reconfiguring, of missteps and unexpected directions, of hard decisions, of love and hurt and all the consequences that follow.
Coming this spring
On Nana's Shoulders
I was sitting at my computer looking at cover mock-ups for On Nana’s Shoulders. The book will be out in a few weeks. As I was considering the options, I overheard a couple of my characters discussing the new title. I thought you might like to hear their conversation, so here it is.
Logan raced to the ringing phone. “It’s Mommy. Can I talk to her?” He grabbed the receiver before Nana could answer. “Hi, Mommy.”
“Logan. I’m glad you answered. I was going to hang up if it was Nana.”
“I heard she finally got our author to name the book for her. She had named it for me, you know. Mommy Sang Us to Sleep. That’s what it should have been. My career was the only thing worth reading about. And Vicki Schoen was right about one thing. I did sing you guys to sleep.”
“You still sing me to sleep,” the little boy answered. “Remember though, the book was first called But, What About the Child. That’s because I’m the most important character.”
“Has Nana told you that?”
“Yes. And Daddy thinks he should have at least been considered for the title because he’s a pointy view character."
“Hell, he’s the one that caused most of the problems.”
“Mommy, don’t say hell. Daddy would be mad.”
Nana stuck her head in the room. “Who are you talking to, Logan? I was in the garage. Didn’t hear the phone ring.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but his mommy started in before he could.
“Band’s ready to go on. Just wanted to hear your voice. This is just one more thing your nana’s hijacked. On Nana’s Shoulders. How pretentious. I’ll bet the only reason our author called it that is because she’s a grandma. Bye now.” And she hung up.
Logan stared at the phone emitting a dial tone. He placed it gently in its cradle. “It was Mommy, Nana. She’s mad about the book title.”
Nana smiled and shook her head. “Supper’s ready.”