Luanne Rice Guest Blogs

I’m not sure Luanne Rice needs an introduction; she is, after all, an internationally beloved author whose magical, witty, and deeply emotional stories of love and family connections have won the hearts of millions of readers.

Never-the-less, they asked me to do these honors for a very odd reason. While I might not be the tart who knows her best, I think I can safely claim I am the only tart who has ever felt her up...

I somehow scammed my way into some swanky publishing party in NYC, and she was there, too, only more legitimately. She had done me a great kindness when I was first starting out, so when we were introduced, I got excited. I began spazzily thanking her, saying. “OH GOSH, YOU DO NOT KNOW HOW MUCH IT MEANT TO ME WHEN YOU BLURBED MY FIRST NOVEL!” I put my hands out, like JAZZ HANDS, all frantic and grateful...

She is not a tall person. I am klutzy. So. I somehow managed to grab her boob. *sigh*

Now I am here to say, and say with authority: Please welcome Luanne. She’s a wonderful writer, a lovely human being, and, yeah, she has a nice rack. You’re welcome! Joshilyn

Dancing by the Edge of the Sea

by Luanne Rice              

               I’m the oldest of three sisters.  When we were young we shared a bedroom and on warm spring nights (or any night) we would climb out the window to watch night birds and wish on stars.   We shared a lot: secret language, fair-isle sweaters, and, on rare and terrible occasions, boyfriends.   The sister’s creed: No sister shall ever date a sister’s boyfriend, even an ex. 

               We spent every summer in our grandmother’s beach cottage on Long Island Sound.  We’d arrive in June the same afternoon school let out, and stay barefoot through Labor Day. 

               Every summer day was an age-appropriate adventure.  Swimming, crabbing, fishing, building sandcastles.  Walking the tide line, searching for moonstones and sea glass.  Visiting old graves in the small, shady cemetery.  Taking the secret path to a hidden beach for picnics.  Spreading a blanket on the sand on August nights, watching the Perseid meteor shower.  First kisses, first beers, bye-bye virginity. 

               The parents of some of our friends used to point to us, say to their daughters, “I wish you were as close as the Rice girls.”  To us that was like hearing, “I wish you had freckles like the Rice girls.”  We took our closeness for granted, like having freckles or being right-handed, or at least I did. 

               We’d drive the Shore Road, windows open and our hair blowing back, all three of us in the front seat, singing to WABC-AM.  This was the era of great beach girl music: the Beach Boys, James Taylor, Carly Simon, Golden Earring.  Yes, Brandy: you are a fine girl.  Hearing those songs now brings back the smell of Bain de Soleil. 

               Carly and James lived and loved on Martha’s Vineyard.  On clear nights we could see the loom of the island from our roof.  It glowed beyond the eastern horizon, a drive and a ferry ride away.  Carly, one of three sisters, sang as if she’d had her own heart broken while also breaking a few along the way. 

               During those bright years, my sisters and I would go to Sound View for lemon ice; we’d play tennis till after dark, then go swimming to cool off, daring and brave as we swam in the gentle, black waves.  One midsummer night we went to Essex with a young man; parked down by Steamboat Dock, jumped out of the car with headlights on and music blasting, and we danced in the high beams, the three of them jitterbugging like mad and I trying to keep up.

               Our mother used to say, “You’ll have many friends, but only two sisters.”   She was right, and nothing can alter that fact.  The words seemed so obvious, I used to wonder why she’d say them.  Maybe she foresaw the troubles that would arise among us, but if she did, what were the signs?

               When I was in second grade and my middle sister was in kindergarten, our school held a Halloween costume contest.  She and I both wore the exact same white fairy princess outfits, and she won.  I hugged her, but did my mother read envy?   

Sometimes, as in all triangular relationships, it would be two-against-one; in junior high that same sister and I would go to New York to see plays, have adventures in the city without the Little One (our name for the youngest.)   Later the two of them moved to Newport and didn’t ask me to rent the apartment with them.  

               In Carly Simon’s Two Little Sisters, there are two lines:

I didn't choose you and you didn't choose me.

I didn't choose you, who would guess we're from the same family?

               It’s true: sisters don’t get to choose each other, the way they do friends.  But being sisters is like being wisteria vines: you shoot off on your own, trail off in different directions, get tangled up together, good and twisted but still separate as you grow thick and old, nearly grafting onto each other, and then you grace each other with purple flowers.

               In the forward to Freud’s Blind Spot, a collection of 23 essays by writers about their siblings, the editor, Elisa Albert, writes of the psychological vertical model, “You are who you are because your parents made you that way.”  Then, “But what about the horizontal mode…what about lateral influence?”  In other words, what about the importance of siblings?

               Freud negated the power siblings have on other’s development—the way we share early memories and a singular connection, know each other’s primary truths, first loves, deep pain, quirky humor, vulnerabilities—thus his “blind spot.” 

               Freud didn’t know dick.

               The last lines of Carly Simon’s Two Little Sisters:

But, what will you do when the nights get cold?

When the stars grow dim and your dreams seem old.

Watcha gonna do when winter calls,

And your flowers fall from the garden walls?

 

I'll come home to you, you'll come home to me.

My love will be your remedy.

I'll choose you and you'll choose me.

We'll be two daughters dancing by the edge of the sea.

               I change the last line to say “three daughters.”  I would be so happy to dance by the edge of the sea with my two sisters, in the light of the high beams, on midsummer’s night, in the dead of winter, any time at all.

Luanne's new book trailer:
 

And here's Luanne's tour:  https://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=107346432678796 

Comments

[Harley]

Oh, Luanne, welcome.

I have a best friend who I consider a sister, I have wonderful sisters-in-law, I have my blog sisters, but I also have the biological ones, Mary, Ann, Dory and Joanie, and I have to say, I'd choose them all without a moment's hesitation. How lucky am I?

[Luanne Rice]

Thank you for the warm welcome! I'm so happy to be here in the blog sisterhood. Isn't it interesting and lovely the way we can have "real" sisters (I'm the oldest of 3,) and "friend" sisters? One of my best friends, an only child, and I adopted each other a few years ago. She is absolutely my sister--I'm godmother to her dog Maggie, and she's godmother to my kitty Maggie...

[Reine]

Luanne, I love this. I have to admit to seeing sisters everywhere, while never having one, always wanting one. Every good friend became my sister, but I didn't know what a real sister was like. I can still only imagine. Sometimes it's painful, missing out on something, not know what, really. Just thinking and wondering what it might be like to have a very close friend who would somehow, in some way, share life. What would it be like getting angry, disenchated, bored with one another, or worse - yet not being able to erase that relationship without severing something larger, some larger affiliation.

[Kathy Reschini Sweeney]

Great blog, Luanne.

I have three sisters. Sometimes we hate eachother. But if any one of us needed help, none of the others would hesitate.

It sounds as if you and your sisters are not as close as you would like. Carpe Diem!

[Ramona]

I have one sister. Some people here know her so that's all I can say. :)

But, please, allow me to gush. Luanne, I think your personal understanding of sisters, and multi-generations in families, is beautifully reflected in your work. Crazy in Love and Blue Moon are two of my most dependable comfort reads.

It is very nice to see you here, and that's a beautiful book cover.

[Christine]

Well, this depresses me. My mom would always sigh and say.."I never had a sister and always wanted one for you...there is nothing like a sister for a girl". (I only have one brother.) All of you with sisters are luckier than you know, even when you fight.
'SWafe Harbor" is another good "sister read".

[Karen in Ohio]

My sister and I are so different, and we've never been close, although in the last couple of years we've corresponded more. We have not lived in the same time zone for most of our adult lives; in fact, we haven't lived on the same continent for about half of that time. Recently, we've been seeing each other once or twice a year, ever since we lost one of our brothers seven years ago. It's made us closer, that sense of the fragility of life. My brothers and I were always very close, though, and my remaining brother and I have consciously decided to spend more time together, working out a couple times a month. I've thoroughly enjoyed that closer relationship.

There's nothing like a shared upbringing, as long as you have the same memories. For some reason, my siblings and I have completely different perceptions of our shared childhoods. But a couple very close girlfriends are sisters to me. The kind we choose for ourselves, which in some ways is a deeper relationship.

[Nancy Pickard]

Welcome Luanne. So nice to see you here.

I watch sisters with interest, partly because I'm an only, but also because I grew up without knowing any siblings who got along well. It's refreshing to hear tales of close sister bonds.

[marie]

Welcome, Luanne!
I love your blog and am looking forward to reading your new novel.
Although I have no sisters I raised two girls who do have a special bond. There is an age span of five years and that does affect the sisterly dynamics.

I wish everyone at TLC Easter Blessings and Peaceful wishes and times for all.

[Luanne Rice]

I love all these sister and no-sister posts. I can really understand wishing for a sister, Reine, and and seeking one in every friend.
And Christine, your comment about your mother's words, "I never had a sister and always wanted one for you," gives me insight into my own mother. Like yours, she was an only child. She idealized sister the relationship, and used to tell us--especially when my sisters and I fought--"You'll have many friends, but only two sisters." I know she meant so well, but those words never drew us closer together back them. I think of them now, because one of my sisters has estranged herself from us. That is the biggest heartbreak.
Kathy, thank you for your kind words on that subject. I'm so glad you and your sisters are there for each other, and I'll take your good wishes as a sort of prayer for me and mine.
Ramona! Gushing makes my day. Crazy in Love and Blue Moon are dear to my heart. Crazy, my second novel, was based closely on my own family. Both of those novels were published by Viking, where I've returned for The Silver Boat. In fact I have the same editor, Pam Dorman, as I had back then.
Karen, what a thoughtful post. You are so right about different perceptions of our shared childhoods. We have a secret language, the same sense of humor, one of us can say one word, and it will bring back a flood of memories. Yet it sometimes seems we grew up in different worlds.
Ah, the mysteries of family.
A few of you have touched on close friendship. As I said, I cherish my friends, especially my "California sister." Do you have best friends? From childhood or more recently?

[marie]

My late mother-in-law and my relationship seem to defy any label involving love or friendship.
We were seventeen years apart and seemed to relate on so many levels.
We would laugh and be silly and seem to transcend the worries of the day.
We were sympatico and wistfully her own daughters seem to envy our relationship.
I love my sister-in laws and sometimes they reveal that mom always loved the other best but I am here to tell them that their mother loved them deeply.
Complicated feelings bubble up, fizzle only to return with more effervescence and true meaning.

[Dee]

Occasionally, in my passing's, I follow a link.Sometimes out of interest and sometimes out from nowhere..I feel the pull~ and wonder if I were meant to be there.
That aside? like many I have no sister but a brother six years older than I, whom I'm very endeared to.However, oh, how growing up I wished for a sister.Later years I would hold my girlfriend's dear and close, calling them "sista's." Now in my 40's 'friend' and 'friend's' means so much more, cherishing them like the crescent moon on a perfectly clear night.
There is something to be said of reading a book of 'sister's,' as it is to know a little of the person behind the endearing words.It's 'The Perfect Summer,' and I'm in the middle, not wanting to put it down.Hugs to you.Hope the blue flowers upon your roof bring you a smile~ Dee

[Fran]

I have a half-brother but no sisters of the biological nature.

However when I was nine, I met Lou, and we were inseparable/best friends until she died eight years ago. We had the same ups and downs, we had unspoken agreements that just became a part of our lives, we often finished each other's sentences. We looked nothing alike, but we answered to both our names because we were so inextricably linked that it just made sense. She was talented and funny and wicked smart. She was also moody, temperamental and viciously opinionated. I still love her.

I miss her every day.

[Luanne Rice]

Thank you, Nancy, Marie, and Dee for the welcome. Nancy, I really like the way you observe sisters, and enjoy hearing stories of the sister bond--it is indelible, even when there is silence and hurt. Marie, the story of your late mother-in-law is incredibly touching. It sounds as if you had an amazing connection, and I can tell you miss her very much.
Dee, thank you for your poetic words--cherishing your friends "like the crescent moon on a perfectly clear night." I'm glad you're enjoying "The Perfect Summer"--hugs to you, too.

[Luanne Rice]

I'd like to give a shout out to Mike O'Gorman, the wonderful director and producer who does the videos for my website. We have a lot of fun.
The Silver Boat trailer, posted here, was shot in Santa Monica, CA (shh, it's supposed to look like Martha's Vineyard, the setting of the novel...) The day after Mike and I shot the video, the 9.0 earthquake hit Japan. The beach that had looked so calm the day of our video now had a violent and haunted feel as the tsunami raised sea level and caused destruction up and down the California coast. We grieved for Japan, and felt connected by salt water.
How tender we felt for Japan and all the people affected by the earthquake and the terrible aftermath...how tied together we all are by invisible threads of love, loss, humanity.

[Luanne Rice]

AND ANOTHER THING...Joshilyn how well and fondly I remember the night you felt me up. Outside the grand ballroom of the Pierre, the evening of the late, great Literary Guild/Bookspan soiree... I was thrilled to meet you, and if you hadn't grabbed my boob, I'd probably have grabbed yours. Meeting a writer after you've fallen in love with her work is a tremendous thing. Thanks for having me here!

[marie]

I have been intrigued by how older siblings seem to take such a powerful role in the upbringing of their your sisters or brothers.
In my view, they feel like it is their duty to fill in the gaps of parenthood. Secretly they may view themselves as being more competent in introducing the younger child to all the glories of this world.
I have observed also that there is a conflicted view from the younger child in that they feel grateful and at the same time want to make their own mark and be noticed.

[gaylin in vancouver]

I have 2 older sisters and know I can't turn to either of them for anything. One would say No and the other would only help if there was something in it for her. I have a younger brother and we talk every few weeks and get along well. I feel resentful when people push the sister-love thing one me. While it would be great to be close to them, I am not going to sacrifice my self-esteem and emotional safety to have either of them in my life. My chosen sister friends actually like me and treat me well.

Welcome Luanne! I too am glad your boob got grabbed so you could end up here!

[Deb]

I have three younger sisters, as well as a younger brother. I agree that sometimes it seems as though we were raised in different families, but there is some truth to that: each of us experienced our own particular place in our family in a very special way. I was an "only" for just about 22 months, each of the others was temporarily the youngest - until the youngest came along, and so forth.

The two of us who are the oldest used to refer to our three younger siblings as "the little kids"; we believed that we were SO "grown up" in comparison to them!

Our relationships to each other have changed over the years. Our youngest sister has had a lifelong struggle with mental illness, without actually starting to receive adequate treatment or even getting a clear diagnosis until about twelve years ago. Most of our lives have revolved around her and her problems. It was much more difficult when we were growing up, and all of us just wanted to get away from it all at times. (As the oldest, I was the built-in babysitter, and I found it be downright frightening to be in charge of her. I was pretty sure I could never be a good parent, because I had such a difficult time with her, and that has a lot to do with the reason I have no children. Turns out that as a adult, I am the aunt that everyone wants around them and have always been the favored "playmate" at family gatherings. I don't even know how I feel about this - sad, resigned, glad that I have brought happiness to the youngest family members...)

Our parents are gone now, we don't feel that we need to be in her life in any particular way, but we have chosen - probably out of that bond of love that was always there - to learn as much as we can about what's happening to her mental functioning, trying to see things through her skewed perspective, participating in educational programs and family support groups. I believe that we have a deep, loving bond with her now that we never had when we were growing up. I've definitely been the Surrogate Mom for her but I have learned to set the boundaries for the relationship so that it is rewarding for BOTH of us. She's had health problems of ALL kinds for most of her life; as an adult, she was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis, which has caused severe physical and cognitive disability for her, and she finally had to move to a nursing home a year ago. She'd been living alone since our mom's death at the end of 1997, and it just wasn't safe for her anymore. I could not give her the level of moral support that I DO give her without the support of my other siblings, including our loving and understanding sister-in-law. We all contribute towards our sister's moral support and encouragement from our own individual strengths.

[Reine]

My best friend, Stephanie, became my best friend just a few years ago. We met at a hospital in Boston where she was the "disability shrink," with a special interest in treating PTSD symptoms with people who are new to their disability. I was afraid of everything, even her. But once in her office, something in her grabbed me and made me see the humor in everything I was dealing with. That first visit I said, "I can't be your patient. I like you too much."

That's how Stephanie and I became friends. We email and/or talk every day almost, sometimes more often, especially when our cats decide to write about us. I love those emails the best. Our kitties talk about us to one another, and we do not always look good.

We were both shrinks when we met. Stephanie still is. Now we are both writers writing about relationships. I read chapters from her WIP, every day. She reads stuff I write. It's not for editing, or critique, or anything except sharing the stories, and I love it. I love her.

[lil Gluckstern]

I really enjoyed this blog since I had only one brother. This was like a window to a world that actually sounds pretty wonderful. I have two daughters, and it seems that they were always best friends. It's nice. Now, totally off topic, I hope the St. Louis contingent is doing okay after all the weather.

[Nancy Martin]

I mine the sister relationship for my own books because I think that tie is one of the most humanly complex. What's equally interesting is watching my daughters negotiate the sisterly relationship. I'll say no more since they read this blog!

Luanne, we are "agency sisters," so I always hear wonderful things about you from our "moms" at JRA. Thanks for being our guest--on a holiday, too!

[Diane Chamberlain]

So nice to see you here, Luanne. I've admired your writing since the beginning. You influenced my own writing and I thank you for that.

This week was rough for me. I'd just turned in a book and was about to take a sigh of relief when suddenly everyone (editor/agent/publicist/readers/webguy) needed something important from me ASAP, and to make matters worse, my assistant went AWOL. (Literally. I can't find her. Kind of worrisome.) Well, my sister called me at the moment I was about to (metaphorically) slit my wrists and I burst into tears. I don't remember the last time I did that, but there's no one safer to be vulnerable with than a loving sister. By the time I hung up the phone, I was in much better shape and left with the knowledge that she's there for me, always.

Thanks for being here and sharing your sister story. I look forward to reading The Silver Boat.

[Luanne Rice]

These are extraordinary comments! What a great group here at TLC. I wish we could all sit on a wide porch by the beach, having tea and talking. So many thoughts going through my mind. Marie, you are so insightful, I wonder if you are a therapist. Gaylin--thank you for the welcome; I love Vancouver, one of the most beautiful places in the world. Also, I relate to what you say about resenting having the sister-thing pushed on you. That's how I felt when my mother would make that statement about friends/sisters...I appreciate her words so much more now, but resented them back then.
Deb, my heart goes out to you and your younger sister. It sounds so painful and poignant, and how touching that you have continued to help and care for her. It's interesting that you feel like a surrogate mom--when I bought my sisters out, to keep our dear family beach house, I did it with the idea of becoming the matriarch. Didn't quite work out that way!
Lil, I'm with you in sending good thoughts to people in St. Louis. I'm scheduled to speak at the St. Louis County Library on Thursday, May 5. Very much looking forward to it...
Reine, there is so much in what you say. I'm very moved that you would write so honestly. I spent time in a hospital outside Boston, being treated for trauma, PTSD. Life can be so brutal at times, and I felt incredibly lucky to find such a healing place, filled with sensitive staff and other patients. Stephanie sounds great, as do your kitties.
And Nancy! Aren't we lucky to have such wonderful agents? There is a deep bond between the "agency sisters." I'm so thankful to you for letting me guest blog today.

[Luanne Rice]

Are there any California girls here?
My book tour has brought me here, and I have three stops this week. I'd love to meet you!

San Francisco, Belmont Library, Tuesday, 4/26, 7pm

San Diego, Warwick's, Thursday, 4/28, 7:30 pm

Los Angeles, LA Times Festival of Books, Panel "Fiction--Lives Interrupted," Sunday 5/1, 11 am.

[Laraine]

What a lovely Easter treat to read your words here, Luanne: I'm a great admirer of your work--it speaks to me of familiar issues and brings a romance of the shore that I (growing up mostly land-locked) only dreamed of in my earlier decades.
My sister and I know how to fight better than almost anything else, but we are gradually learning to know how also to say the loving and thoughtful things that we know and feel. I'm hugely grateful for the friend-sisters that have come into my life over the years, not least the TLC sisters & bros!
Joshilyn, I never really thought of groping as a networking strategy. Hmmmm.

[Laraine]

Ohhh, I just read your comment about being in L.A.--I'll be at the LATFOB Saturday (in the green room around noon--I'll try to look for you?), but have to be in SF on Sunday, so won't be able to attend your Sunday session. Darn, darn, darn.
You'll get a wonderful welcome from the FOB crowd, though--believe it or not, Angelenos read (for those who think Hollywood is all tinsel, no book)!!

[marie]

Luanne, it seems that you have cast a spell upon us making us all sisters here today.
So many poetic thoughts have flowed through to make us one. Someone once said that words drip from the sleeves of their imagination and flow to the pages to be read and maybe inspire others. I think that this happened with our lovely thoughts flowing into each other and making us as one.

[Pam]

I am a California beach girl :) Hi Luanne, as you know I live far from the beach now. In the desert where it snows :) VBG........the grass is growing wild right now, and the snow on the mountain is beginning to melt. The creek is fast, the birds so busy. I loved reading the text above, about being sisters. I look forward to reading the Silver Boat, I know it will be wonderful!
Pam

[Aimee]

I'm coming to this a little late, but what a beautiful tribute to sisters! Thank you for this. The very first book of yours I read was "Angels All Over Town" and I remember you used the phrase "six breasts abreast" to describe the three sisters. My two sisters and I adopted that phrase (as well as Karsky and Schlumberger, but that's another story) for ourselves, and I just forwarded this article to both of them with that as the subject line.

[Wholesale Handbags]

So interesting it is, I like it !