Yesterday morning I watched a robin bathe itself in our bird bath. It splashed itself with the water over and over. Shook out its feathers and perched on the lip of the bath in the sunshine.

By the time the bird flew away I was nearly in tears. There was something deeply moving about this small creature taking a moment of pleasure. I realized that I had a part in the bird’s moment of peace by refilling the bird bath each day.

Right now, I am that robin and each kind word, each review, each time someone tells me something new about my book, I feel myself dipping into the water of the bath and shaking out my feathers. You are the ones who are filling up that bath each day. Thank you!

This has been another great week for me, beginning with a quick visit to New York City to read at Sunday Salon NYC. My thanks to Sara and Nita (wonderful hosts!), to my fellow readers (all fabulous), and, most of all, to everyone who attended for providing such a warm audience. Danny Goodman kindly posted some photos of the event.

Tuesday night, a dream came true for me when I got to see The Avett Brothers. I’ve loved their music since the first time I heard it seven years ago. Their live show exceeded my high expectations. My hands are actually bruised from clapping. My husband reluctantly joined me but left the show a fan. A thrilling night.

My promotional efforts for Echolocation are winding down, but this next week is going to be a big one.

On Tuesday, I’m going back up home to upstate New York, where I’ll be reading at SUNY Plattsburgh. I’m already feeling emotional about it because it’s a coming back to where my writing life began. It will be a miracle if I get through the reading without crying. For more details, please read this wonderful feature in the Press Republican: Plattsburgh State Alumna Returns with Debut Novel.

On Friday, April 27th, I’m thrilled to be lecturing at Clark University. My lecture will be unrelated to Echolocation. Instead, I’ll be speaking to a fiction class about flash fiction, which was the focus of my master’s thesis.

Friday night begins the Newburyport Literary Festival. I’ll be heading over to the Dinner with the Authors where I hope to hang with Victoria Barrett, Andrew Scott, Matthew Quick, and Alicia Bessette.

On Saturday, April 28th, I’ve got two events at the festival:

Authors and Editors: Working Together, Saturday 1:00 PM, Unitarian Universalist Church

What is the relationship between author and book editor? How closely will you work with an editor before your book is published? What is the process from acceptance to publication? What’s the difference between an independent and a traditional publisher? Ann Kingman of Books on the Nightstand will moderate this panel of authors and editors from independent and traditional publishers, including author Matthew Dicks and his editor Brenda Copeland from St. Martin’s Press and author Myfanwy Collins and her editor Victoria Barrett of Engine Books.

And:

Echolocation by Myfanwy Collins Saturday 4:00 PM, The Book Rack:

In this stunning debut novel, Myfanwy Collins lays bare the hearts of three lost women called together by their own homing instincts in a season that will change their lives–and the place they call home–forever. Echolocation is literary fiction at its finest. Listen to Myfanwy Collins read from this harrowing tale of love and loss.

If you are in the area, I do hope you’ll drop by the festival. There are tons of events for young and old. It’s a reader’s paradise. I’m so proud to live in a town that not only sustains two independent bookstores but also hosts this wonderful, vibrant festival.

As always, thanks for reading.

Like Siddartha, who left behind all that he knew and loved, who left behind all that comforted him in order to gain insight, Cheryl Strayed walked into the wilderness with only an outlandishly heavy pack on her back, carrying everything she believed she would need to sustain her in between pit stops on the Pacific Coast Trail. She even left her old name behind and carried with her instead her new name: Strayed.

Wild is Strayed’s nonfiction account of her journey, as she made her way up California and through Oregon, seeking not only enlightenment but also solace. Without ever saying it explicitly, what Strayed needed was a respite from the unrelenting grief she felt over the loss her mother five years before her journey began.

And while there was no big revelatory moment in which Strayed realizes what losing her mother means to her, what there is is a serious of little deaths and drifting aways, as Strayed peals away the layers of her grief and builds a newer, thicker skin to cover her original skin, worn raw by her own attempts to medicate herself through self-loathing.

What Strayed did on her journey up the PCT was remarkable for anyone, let alone a young woman unarmed and alone. But what she has done with Wild is even more remarkable; indeed, she has shared a narrative in which we all see ourselves, laid bare and bleating. Out of Strayed’s hardships, she shows us our own footsteps forward. With her, we cross the bridge and find ourselves stronger for having traveled with her.

There was much that I personally identified with in this narrative, but I suspect that so many who read it, find that as well. Strayed captures with heartbreaking perfection what it is to lose your mother when all your life you felt your biggest job was to keep her alive, and what you learn in letting go of that overwhelming grief is how to mother yourself.

Strayed does not take it easy on her readers. She will make you cry. In fact, I did not simply weep silently into a tissues as I read; I sobbed. Loudly. I finished the book just this morning on a packed bus to New York and actually had to lock myself into the bathroom so that no one would hear me as I sobbed. She will also make you laugh. She will entertain you and teach you things. In the end, you will awe and relief at her survival. You will be changed.

Wild is a gift to us all. I hope you will read it.

Earlier this week, I was 18 again. Someone posted a photo of me circa 1986. At first, I laughed about the photos, but quickly my laughter turned dark.

I saw myself as I’d never seen myself before. I try not to look at photos of myself from those years. When I do, I see someone who is furious and alone. I see someone who is sometimes mean to people because she hates herself so very much. I see someone who feels a lot of shame. I see someone who is frightened. I see someone who is lost.

For a variety of reasons, I was lost and I was alone. I was lost and I was alone and I was sixty pounds heavier than I am now and I wore a lot of makeup and I had terrible hair and I drank a lot and I used drugs and ate food that was bad for me and I hated myself and I did not in any way believe that any of the dreams I had for myself were ever, ever achievable.

When I saw those pictures, I was right back in the moment of feeling trapped within my body and my skin and my mind. I was right back to feeling hopeless. I was right back to not understanding why life is worth living.

In the 26 years since those photos were taken, I’ve found a voice within myself that will not let me be broken in the same way that I was then. The voice was always there inside me, waiting to come out and rescue me from myself. And so to be reminded of what I was and what wasn’t at 18 can only momentarily break me and those dreams I didn’t believe would ever come true in 1986, are all happening now, mostly because I opened myself and let people guide me and accepted help when it was offered to me, and mostly let myself believe I was worthy of being loved. I am.

As for help and gratitude, I offer my thanks to Patricia Henley, a writing warrior who is beautiful in every way. This week, I was blown away and deeply moved to read Patricia thoughts on Echolocation. Here is just a smidge:

The language and lyricism of Myfanwy Collins’ prose never takes over; it reveals her tenderness toward the characters and the land. She is skilled at the puzzle of plot; she is skilled at poetry. This novel is a fine debut, portending more to come.

To have a writer I admire so much say such loving things about my work is an enormous gift. Thank you, Patricia! And thank you also to Ron Slate for his wonderful blog: On the Seawall.

My thanks also to Sharon Shaloo, executive director of the Massachusetts Center for the Book. I was fortunate to meet Sharon at AWP in Chicago, early in March. Today, she hosted me as a guest on her First Fridays webinar with the MLS. It was my first-ever webinar and a whole lot of fun. Sharon runs things beautifully and is a passionate advocate for the book and I truly appreciate her support. Thank you, Sharon! Thank you also to Scott Kehoe who is the technical wizard at the MLS.

On Sunday, I’m thrilled to be reading at Sunday Salon NYC. I will post more about this event next week after it’s happened, but if you’re in the area, please do stop by.

On Tuesday, I’m dragging my husband to see The Avett Brothers with me. I have big time love for them and can’t believe I get to see them live. I know it’s going to be a great show.

The week after next is going to be a crazy flurry of activity, kicking off with old-home week, when I travel up to read at my undergrad alma mater, SUNY Plattsburgh. More on this later!

As always, thank you for reading.

Lately, everything I’ve done has gotten me closer to my roots–roots as tight and intertwined as the roots of grass. Typically,  a person uses the term “grass roots” to describe a type of political campaign, one coming from a local level and from the people as opposed to from an enormous political machine.

I’m using grass roots to talk about my Echolocation launch. Since the end of February, I’ve held readings, signings, discussions, chats, lectures. I’ve been interviewed. I’ve blogged. I’ve guest blogged. I’ve been reviewed. I’ve reviewed. I’ve grabbed hold of my book’s destiny and run with it. And each pair of hands my book has landed into as a result of this work, will hopefully land it into another set of hands.

My sincere hope is that you feel that this book is not being shoved down your throat from some large machine, because it’s not. It’s coming to you from me and from the people. It’s coming to you from an independent press, Engine Books. The goal is not wealth. The goal is telling our stories, sharing them. The goal is spreading our roots.

In this, I am not alone. My friends, my family, and complete strangers have reached out to help me launch this book. I’m so grateful to you all. Every day I feel like I’m running as fast as I can and you’re right beside me, holding my hand, keeping up.

The title, Together We Can Bury It, of Kathy Fish‘s remarkable collection of fiction comes from one of my favorite stories of the author, “Blooms,” which is a story I’ve read at least a half a dozen times if not more. As such, I cannot pretend that I am coming to this collection unbiased. In fact, I not only love Kathy Fish’s work, I love her as a friend and human being.

Five years ago, just before my baby was born, a bunch of women writers I knew mostly online threw a virtual baby shower for me  in which they not only sent me generous gifts, but also shared their advice on motherhood and children. It was a complete surprise that left me feeling utterly delighted and quite loved. I will never forget one of the gifts Kathy Fish gave me; it was a story she’d written called, “Bless this Child.” Never published before or since. Generously, she gave me her beautiful words and they are extremely close to my heart still and forever more.

That is what she has done for you, too, dear reader, in this beautiful collection of short fiction. Within, you will find stories that will touch you, leave you breathless, make you laugh, make your heart ache. You will run the gamut of emotions–I promise you that–and you will find yourself living in the moment of these stories as filled with despair and hope as many of the characters are, waiting for change that may never come, but always waiting, never giving up. Just like the narrator in “Breathless,” you will have hope:

I’ll take Marta and move back to Ohio, closer to my family. Lynn can join us when school’s out. I’ll get a better job and we’ll buy a house there. Something modest, but comfortable. In summer we’ll buy fresh strawberries and we’ll eat them on the roof, under the draping branches of some enormous tree.

Matthew Quick is my friend, but that’s not why I love his books. I love his books because they are beautiful, and soulful, and full of heart. In fact, they heart they are full of is enormous. Here in Quick’s third novel, BOY21, that big heart grows larger still. As I neared the end, I felt I was living out that seen in the Grinch when his heart grows so large that it explodes the screen meant to encompass it. I read the final quarter of the book with a lump in my throat, falling in and out of tears, until I reached the end and wept.

Quick shows a lot of compassion for his characters, who are almost always people either living on the edge of society, nearly outcast but not done yet. Same here with Finley and his family, which includes his father, his legless grandfather, and his his beloved girlfriend, Erin. Add to this family a newcomer, Russ aka Boy21.

Russ has experienced a traumatic loss in the death of his parents and has wrapped himself in a fantasy world to escape his pain, much in the same way that Finley becomes selectively mute to repress his own past traumas. The two of them are at first forced together by their basketball couch but soon learn to form a friendship which becomes something like a brotherhood. What is interesting is that they do not bond over a love of basketball or over the fact that they both experienced devastating traumas, instead they bond over their ability to survive and see beauty and hope in the world despite the ugliness all around them.

It is a beautiful, triumphant book that examines the sensitive inner-lives of boys and shows how they might become the men they are meant to be. I am going to keep this book close to my heart and when my own son faces his manhood, I will share it with him so that he might see how Finley and Russ went from being scared boys into brave young men, by facing their biggest fears and sharing their emotions.

May, 1978. My father had been dead for less than a week. It was a Saturday night and then next morning I would be on a plane for the first time. Even before my father died, I sensed that something big and scary was happening. That something irreparable was about to happen. Earlier in the spring, I’d looked up at the sky and seen a plane flying over, the contrail lingering, and I felt myself moving across the sky behind it.

My mother let me stay up late and sleep on the pull out couch in the den. There I watched Saturday Night Live for the first time. O.J. Simpson was the guest host. Rickie Lee Jones was the musical guest. She sang this song and the feeling I had been feeling all spring broke wide open in my chest. I would never exist in this moment again as a young girl with a dead father who had never been on a plane. My life was about to change.

On Monday, I learned that the final draft of my thesis was complete. I also received my grade, which I’m delighted with. Two days ago the finished copies were delivered to the graduate department office. Relief. I’m done. The thing is that I have been so busy for so long that now I hardly know what to do with myself. So I’ve given myself this week to not start anything new. I am letting myself ease into this ending before my new beginning.

I had a bunch of great stuff happen at the end of last week. An essay I wrote, Giving My Sons the Tools of Faith, about my struggles to teach my son about faith beyond (or without) religion, was published on the Psychology Today blog.

Last Friday afternoon, I had fun as the guest host at LitChat. My thanks to everyone who showed up and made it such a fun discussion.

I was also treated to this lovely review by Pamela Erens. Here’s just a bit of it:

Myfanwy Collins is masterful at evoking landscape, particularly the harsh winter landscape of way-upstate New York. This novel’s emotional and physical weather are much the same: scouring, unpredictable, and dangerous. Echolocation casts a spell and leaves you shaken.

Thank you, Pamela!

On Saturday, my family and I traveled to Shelburne Falls, MA where we visited with family. Later that night, I was delighted to read at the charming Arms Library. My thanks, indeed, to everyone who attended and to my fathers-in-law who organized the event with the library director, Laurie Wheeler. My son was also in attendance. He made us all very proud by making intelligent comments and asking great questions during the Q&A session.

Lindsay Gates Markel over at Googlin’ Like a Hooligan gave Echolocation this wonderfully terse review:

ECHOLOCATION IS SO GOOD IT’S RUINING MY FAMILY.

I LOVE THAT! Well, I don’t want to ruin families, of course, but still… YAY! Thank you, Lindsay.

Later in the week, Brian Seemann followed up on his great review by asking me some great questions. Thank you, Brian!

Last night, I was fortunate to have another local reading. This time it was at the lovely, Rowley Public Library. Was touched to have two of the moms and one of the teachers from my son’s preschool there. I have been completely bowled over by the support I’ve been receiving for Echolocation from the parents and teachers at the school. I was talking to my son’s teacher about it this morning and she said, “We are so proud of you. We are a community.” I love that.

A nice end to the week, was this super feature in the Worcester Telegram: Rejection part of the process: Perseverance rewarded with publication of novel. My sincere thanks to Richard Duckett and the Telegram for running this story.

As for endings and beginnings… my mind has been going to April 1st all week. April 1st. April 1st. Yesterday, it hit me why. April 1st is the anniversary of my mother’s death. This year it will be 11 years since she is gone, but whenever I think of that day, it is yesterday.

Such a strange thing–the anniversary of someone’s death. It is the antithesis of the birthday, obviously. It is a day to mourn. Instead, on that day, I choose to celebrate her life, which was often hard, but also beautiful. I will never stop loving you, Mum, and also never stop being grateful that you brought me into this world, which I love.

Finally, let me leave you with my gratitude for reading and with this kiss, kiss, kiss:

A year ago, the thought of going back to school to finish my M.A. degree was certainly in my mind, but didn’t seem within the realm of possibility. How could I find the time and the brain capacity to finish this degree? Was I even smart enough to do it? Would they have me back? Did I even know how to be a scholar anymore?

It felt like there were so many obstacles in my way. Indeed, there were some real obstacles. Once I set the ball in motion and asked what it would take for me to finish, I found out that I would have to formally reapply and take the GREs (both general and subject matter). I found this out in June and began the process of filling out my application, writing my essays, and asking for recommendation letters. I thought I had time to study for the GREs because in my mind, I was applying to begin in September 2012. Once I sent in my application, however, the professor who came to be my advisor told me that she thought I was applying for September 2011.

It was July. There was no way I could be ready in a month. I had to organize a schedule for my son and work around my husband’s schedule. I had to get immunized. I had to take the GREs…

So much in my way. I could not do it.

But I said, fuck it, and did it anyway.

I thought my fellow students would disregard me and that I would find that they did not take school and literature very seriously. I imagined them speaking in text message. Instead, I found them inspiring, intelligent, eager to learn. I consider them not just my peers but my friends as well. And they have given me such hope for the future in that there are still people who are so passionate about literature that they study it exclusively.

I thought my professors would find me stupid and a poor scholar. Instead, we enjoyed our time together and learned from each other. My advisor is someone I truly admire. An intelligent, strong, and compassionate woman, she pushed me to always make my work the best that it could be, not letting me settle on what was easy. To me, that is the mark of a great teacher. I am forever grateful to her.

Each hurdle I overcame has felt like a major victory because nothing came easily. Mostly, though I had to shut up that nagging, negative voice in my head that told me I could not do it. That it was all too difficult and I wasn’t smart enough and that I was making my family sacrifice for nothing.

I was making my family sacrifice for something.

I kept going.

This week, I sat before my three readers and answered their questions in regards to my thesis and my research. This week, I passed my oral defense. I still have to finish the clean up and printing of my thesis but I am just steps away from the finish line.

My family sacrificed for something.  I am not too stupid. I am not too old.  I did it. And I’m telling you this now in case you are sitting on something that you really want to do but are unwilling to because you are listening to those negative voices in your head saying you can’t do it.

You can do it. I know you can.

Honestly, it’s been a pretty great week all around. Beginning last Friday night when I read in front of a room full of friends and strangers at Jabberwocky Bookshop. Can’t thank Sue Little enough for hosting my reading. It was a blast. Have such great and supportive friends. So thankful that they came out.

Later in the week, I was delighted and amazed by a trio of  wonderful reviews of Echolocation:

Steve Himmer wrote a thoughtful and stirring review which not only taught me something about my book, but about myself, my life, my past and future, as well. What a gift. Here’s just a bit of his review:

Those dual tensions, from the plot itself and from my own thwarted assumptions, kept me both engrossed in the story and wondering, in the back of my mind, what Collins was going to do with all this. And what she did was impressive: ultimately, Echolocationgoes where so few stories that build toward violence have the vision or courage to go: all the way to the aftermath.

Then the ever-wonderful, Ethel Rohan, stepped up to the plate and thrilled me with this fresh approach to reviewing Echolocation–A Letter From The Fictional Character, Geneva, To Her Author, Myfanwy Collins. So cool. Here’s a snippet:

 We have these lacks, then, and this haul, too, and we’re always in motion, struggling to get to the next place, or back to some previous place, and none of us seems to know just where it is we’re trying so hard to get to. While I read, though, I was still.

Last, but not least, Brian Seeman posted a lovely review of Echolocation on his blog. I didn’t realize it at the time I read the review, but I met Brian at AWP earlier in the month. He was wonderful enough to come to the joint reading featuring Patricia Henley and me. Brian and I chatted afterward and I later kicked myself for not getting his contact information because I wanted to stay in touch. Lo and behold, here he is writing about my book in a beautiful way. Here’s a bit of his review:

From beginning to end, readers are with Geneva and witness the struggles and successes she experiences throughout life, and when she makes her boldest decision in the novel, the one regarding what to do with Rick, the action is one readers ought to be prepared for. Later, in the closing pages of the novel, again Geneva’s choice is a surprising one, and Collins handles the final images perfectly. It’s a fitting closure for the novel and one surely to leave readers, as they’ve been throughout Echolocation, captivated and impressed.

My thanks to these three reviewers for their time and consideration. Feel extremely fortunate and grateful to have such thoughtful responses to my book.

Absolutely LOVE this interview with The Collagist. The responses are excerpts from Echolocation: She Wanted Her Old Arm Back or Nothing At All.

In other news, I was interviewed for another local paper this week about Echolocation, my family, and upcoming events: The Importance of Being Honest

As far as upcoming events go:

Today, March 23, I will be the guest host for LitChat which is super fun.

Tomorrow, March 24, I am excited to be reading, speaking, and answering questions about Echolocation at the Arms Library in Shelburne Falls, MA

Finally, on Thursday, March 29th, at 7PM, I have another close to home reading at the Rowley Public Library in Rowley, MA

One other very cool thing that happened this week is that Victoria Barrett posted an audio chapter from Echolocation on the Engine Books blog. The audio book has just been released and is available for purchase from the Engine Books site. It sounds WONDERFUL. I absolutely love it.

As always, thanks for reading.

The week started out great with a wonderful review of Echolocation in the Star Tribune: Four women confront their pasts in this tough, fierce story about not fitting in. My thanks to Ellen Akins for her terrific review.

Things just kept getting better as Echolocation was this week’s featured fiction at The Nervous Breakdown.

Had the best time at Pen Parentis on Tuesday night, reading alongside Suzzy Roche and Eleanor Henderson, both wonderful writers, mothers, and human beings. The audience was so wonderfully attentive and supportive. My thanks to Arlaina Tibensky and Milda DeVoe for hosting the event and for running this fine organization. For those of you who are parents/caregivers and also writers, please do consider joining the group as Pen Parentis is a great resource for you.

While in New York, I also got to meet my agent, Penn Whaling, face-to-face for the first time, when I visited the Ann Rittenberg Literary Agency offices. Penn and I have been working together for six years and so it was wonderful to have met her and Ann. Penn and I had a great chat. She was absolutely lovely to me, even when I spilled tea all over her desk. Was touched that she came to my reading that night as well.

Also at the reading was smart cookie and book blogger, Maura Lynch, from Loudmouthkid. Was super fun to meet and spend some time with Maura and I appreciated her for coming to the reading.

Honored to have an excerpt from Echolocation included in The Collagist. The issue is chock full of goodness and I invite you to explore it all. Many thanks to Matt Bell, who is most generous and kind.

My lovely friend, Jennifer Pieroni, asked me Just One Question about Echolocation.

Today, Echolocation is the Friday Freebie over at David Abrams’ wonderful blog The Quivering Pen. David has been extremely supportive of this book and I am most grateful for that support.

Tonight is my first local reading at Jabberwocky Bookshop. I’m terribly excited for the opportunity to read in front of local friends and family. The reading is at 7PM. I hope to see you there if you can make it.

Ending this week feeling truly grateful for all of the wonderful support for Echolocation and for me.