Sandra A. Miller's Blog

A few weekends ago, we hosted a rock band for our town’s Porchfest. People occasionally request songs at these. The one I tossed out was “I’ve Got a Feeling” by the Beatles. 

Everybody had a hard year
Everybody had a good time
Everybody had a wet dream
Everybody saw the sunshine

Everybody had a good year
Everybody let their hair down
Everybody pulled their socks up
Everybody put their foot down

Something in these lyrics speaks to me about the ups and downs of writing, selling, and editing my debut novel, Wednesdays at One. It was a hard year of writing and rewriting. And a (very) good time when  Zibby Books acquired it. Plenty of days, I had to let my hair down and relax into the editing process.…

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I call it “the day”. It occurs without warning every year, sometime between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Sadness gut-punches me. It’s usually brought on by a sound, a smell, or a memory of my father who died thirty-eight years ago at the beginning of the holidays. The sorrow starts in my chest and rises into my throat. Soon I’m brushing away tears.

It could be hearing “O Tannenbaum” on the radio, which his church choir sang at his funeral. Or I’ll see an evergreen wreath on someone’s door and remember the piney smell of my childhood home in December. It’s always a holiday thing that triggers me. My father was the son of German immigrants who settled in Madison, Connecticut.…

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In 1988, one month before my 24th birthday, I eagerly headed off to Japan to teach English at a Tokyo University. As is the case with many expatriates, my journey was less about working as a teacher (I had zero training), and more about fulfilling longings that couldn’t be addressed at home.

Longings, I had a bunch! I wanted to escape the routine of my post-college life, to have an epic adventure on the other side of the world, and to connect in spirit with my father—stationed in Japan during World War II—who had recently died.

Even more meaningful, perhaps, was my personal goal for my time abroad: I boldly decided I was going to write a novel.

My plotted-out strategy was straightforward.…

The post How to Dream in 2022 appeared first on Sandra A. Miller.

I don’t think anyone will struggle to find reasons to put this year behind us. But this isn’t that list. This is the list of silver linings and small moments. And seeing the glass half-full. Yes, 2020 has served up unimaginable loss and pain, but when you look closely at these past months, you may discover some  magic, too. In the words of Leonard Cohen, There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in. And in the words of Eeyore, It never hurts to keep looking for sunshine.

Here are the things about 2020 that I can honestly say I am grateful for:

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Dear Treasure Hunters,

Congratulations to Deb Fleischman and Gary Miller (no relation) of Montpelier, Vermont who did some seriously hardcore hunting to find the numbered stone hidden in the Trove Treasure Hunt. And thanks to every memoir-reading, puzzle-loving matey who scared up a copy of Trove: A Woman’s Search for Truth and Buried Treasure and joined the hunt. Whether you got close enough to smell that painted stone, or never left port, it’s been an honor and pleasure to have you along on the journey. After making their discovery, Deb and Gary came down to my house (45 minutes from “Treasure Island”) to claim the prize. It was a thrill for all of us.

And while the Trove Treasure Hunt may be over, what kind of treasure-hiding pirate author would I be if I didn’t take the time to clue you in on some of the solves?…

The post Cluing You in on Trove’s Hidden Treasure appeared first on Sandra A. Miller.

More details to follow….…

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Ahoy Me Hearties!

These last months have been longer than a day’s walk on a beach with a peg leg. Me and me first matey have been drydocked in home port with only our lad and lassie aboard. Aye, instead of lootin’ and plunderin’ or stagin’ a mutiny, we now spend long days purveyin’ hard tack and grog and playin’ pin-the-tale on Polly. Arrr, poor Polly…

For the very reason o’ boredom and desperation, this pirate author has been gettin’ the urge to do some of her own memoir writin’ and treasure huntin’ again. But that ain’t easy with one patch over me eye and another covering me rum hole and sniffer. I look like your grandmother’s quilt with a parrot sitting on it.…

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Yesterday at Whole Foods, I picked up a bright yellow lemon and felt like I was taking my life into my gloved hand.

But I have a lot of those moments now. I’m about to do something so ordinary like kiss my husband when he comes in from work, or grab the railing up the steep steps to the forest trail. Then I don’t. The kiss becomes this awkward attempt at connection, because who knows what particles Mark picked up that day, alone in his office. (He still breathed the air in the hallway, right?) And as much as I want to pull myself up those stairs, my hand stops in mid-air and retreats.

World, we are scared. We are freaked out by this Coronavirus that is threatening to come for our asthmatic lungs, our dads in nursing homes, our elderly neighbors, and even our 21-year-old sons (thank you, Phinny), who bravely make the CVS run for our inhaler prescriptions without knowing what aerosol particles are lurking around some asymptomatic, but infected, customer.…

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Several people have emailed and posted questions about the Trove Armchair Treasure Hunt, and since I’m not going to give any one person the advantage, I’ll share a few hints here.

When I was a junior in college, I thought that I should take a statistics course. Never mind that I absolutely sucked at math in high school (I’m generalizing here, but sucking at math is often a pre-req for becoming an English major). I figured that I had matured out of my math issues and was ready to master a class that required me to do numbers. Why did no one try to talk me out of this?

That same semester, I was an editor on the college newspaper which meant staying up late—often all night—on Thursdays to prepare The Acorn for its Friday printing.…

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