A Poem Pertinent to "Gina/Diane"

The other day, I came across a poem in the New York Times Sunday Magazine  entitled "Self-Portrait as Myself," which you can read by clicking on that title.

I found this particularly poignant because the sentiments expressed by the author, Meghan O'Rourke, are pertinent to my novella "Gina/Diane," which can be found in print at The Book Patch or as an e-book at Amazon.

I also like the manner in which the poem promotes additional thoughts.

For instance, one line talks in terms of "casting a lawyer of snow over our losses." This rather vividly brings to mind Gretta's sorrow and Gabriel's sense of inadequacy at the conclusion of James Joyce's story, "The Dead."

Later, the poem talks of "the propeller planes humming past."  One of the joys of sitting on our roof deck in the summer here in Seattle is watching float planes on their way to or from Lake Union. These are mostly De Havilland "Beavers," the last of which was built in 1967. Fortunately, they appear likely to keep flying more or less indefinitely.

Listening to Women Who Have Had Abortions

As I've mentioned in earlier posts, my second novella -- "Gina/Diane" -- is about a woman who has had an abortion.

With the abortion rights controversy heating up once again in the wake of the recent U.S. presidential election, those interested might want to take a look at the book. They can find it as an e-book on Amazon or as a paperback at The Book Patch.

Meanwhile, here is an opinion piece from the New York Times on the topic entitled "Who Should You Listen to on Abortion? People Who’ve Had Them."

"Gina/Diane" -- Life After an Abortion

I recently published my second novella, entitled "Gina/Diane."  It is available as an e-book on Amazon and Smashwords, and as a printed paperback at The Book Patch. (Click on the names of those retailers to purchase the book.)

Here is what it is about:

When a younger man named Hartley encounters and older woman named Diane dancing with her dog on a lonely, out-of-season beach in North Carolina, he ends up unexpectedly spending the evening with her.  She's a shape-shifting cougar with a problematic pet, but she also has a poignant and disturbing story to tell about an abortion at age 17, and how that event impacted her subsequent life.

When Hartley inadvertently asks a question that opens Diane's floodgates, he finds that he has no way out of an exquisitely uncomfortable situation.  A bachelor who lives with a cat in Manhattan, empathy isn't Hartley's strongest suit and he has no prior dealing with what Diane has been through.

Thanks in part to a photo that helps him understand more about what Diane lost, he listens with increasing interest to her gritty account of how she clawed herself upward only to have her past rob her of her greatest success. Diane appreciates Hartley's willingness to listen and she's intrigued that he might be able to make good use of her story despite finding him lacking in certain important respects. Can the evening result in a rewarding outcome for them both -- and that pesky dog?