Each book is available in a variety of formats, including print and ebook, from a variety of sources. I’ve included a link for more information, to showcase the range of online options. And when you’re ready to buy, don’t forget your local independent bookstore.

The Forgotten Garden by Kate Morton
This amazingly crafted story spans three generations, all tied up with a neat bow. Morton carries us from Australia to England on the back of her strong prose. I bought it as a birthday present for my sister, who rarely has time to read for pleasure anymore. Hopefully this will be worth the distraction for her.

The Winter Sea by Susanna Kearsley
Kearsley’s mix of history and present day was so engrossing I went back to read it a second time, thinking I would analyze her craft… and found myself caught up in the story all over again.

The Widow’s War by Sally Gunning
Gunning’s first story of colonial Satucket on Cape Cod centers around the Widow Berry, who after her husband’s death at sea rebels against the transfer of her property to her nearest male relative, an overbearing son-in-law. Best of all, there are two more books to enjoy when you finish: Bound and The Rebellion of Jane Clarke. http://sallygunning.com/books.html

Those Who Save Us by Jenna Blum
An amazing story of mother, daughter, and how history continues to affect the present day even when it’s suppressed. The ending might surprise, but the smooth prose is a comfort throughout.

The Day the Falls Stood Still by Cathy Marie Buchanan
Set against the constant roar of Niagara Falls, this novel tells the story of a family whose fortunes unexpectedly fall apart—and the unexpected love affair that saves them.

A Long, Long Time Ago and Essentially True by Brigid Pasulka
I was induced to buy this book by the title. Fortunately the story —a mix of history and modernity through the eyes of a granddaughter who returns to her grandmother’s native Poland—lived up to my high expectations.

As for this year’s gift giving, it’s going to be another book holiday for my family members. Luckily my nieces and nephews are all big readers, and most of them are old enough to be breaking into the adult genres. A few highlights:

My oldest niece will hopefully enjoy the first Elizabeth George title, A Great Deliverance. She loves mysteries but had never heard of George, my favorite author in that crowded genre. She will also hopefully let me know what she thinks of Death Comes to Pemberly, the latest from P.D. James.

My dad will enjoy looking through Herb McCormick’s latest book, One Island, One Ocean, a story of the thirteen month circumnavigation of the Americas. And I’m hoping to take a glance at the book after him.

The best present is a secret. I’ll let you know next week how it is received.

Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah to all. It’s a great time of year to share the joy of reading!

A placid barefoot day drifting south with the ebb toward the Jamestown Bridge—what could be better?

Last week I read Elizabeth Berg’s “Dream When You’re Feeling Blue,” also fiction and also full of engaging characters. But 1940’s Chicago made me shiver, not sweat. And Berg’s characters asked tougher questions about war, women’s rights, sacrifice, and the strength of family ties. I couldn’t have possibly plowed through this book in one day; it needed several nights of digestive thought.

And that’s what I love about reading: we can choose our preferred climate, century, and depth of engagement. If we hit it right (as I did yesterday), stories enrich our solitude and take us outside our own lives. If we hit it wrong—well, we can always pick up something else. That’s why books on the nightstand are as valuable as money in the bank.

Two weeks ago I raced Snipes with a skipper who quietly stated that he wanted to rip out the heart of every other competitor on the race course. Of course on shore he loaned tools, boats, and brute strength even before he was asked, offering that unique mix of cooperative competitiveness I so love about small boat racing. Wanting to win should encourage us to help our competitors improve;  the better they are, the more they challenge us to sail our best.

Five days later, I found myself alone in the middle of Narragansett Bay, drifting south with the ebb tide. I spent the leisurely cruise consciously savoring the first-sail-of-the-season, the gleaming varnish, the early shimmer of seabreeze—and the rare sunshine. I felt lucky to be on the water, and quite content—even with a complete absence of competition.

In less than a week, I traveled from one end of the competitive spectrum to the other—all without setting foot in a boat with an engine. No matter what my psyche demands—solitude, heart-ripping competition, or something in between—I can find it on the water.

So here’s another place where books meet boats—they each provide a seemingly endless variety of experience. I can escape for a day or a week, to a harbor down under or a heartland city. Best of all, I can travel light—my imagination will be all the baggage I need.

I’m lucky not only to have some great friends who are also terrific sailors, but a super-duper hubby who understands that sometimes I need to go on vacation without him to go sailing with those aforementioned great sailing friends.

When I’m really lucky, those aforementioned sailing friends don’t mind if I use some of my vacation time to head to bed early with a good book. It’s pretty decadent to ease in between the sheets without second thought of “did I move the laundry into the dryer”; “I need to remember to get in touch with the folks at the other office to make sure we’re on track on that important project”; or “must remember to get more food for the dog who depends on me.”
And I’ll admit that cozying up with a good book is somehow even a little more indulgent after a day of dinghy racing, when I’m usually a little body tired and mind numb. So that all I can focus on are the words on the page.

I’ve had a few serendipitous book choices follow me to regattas—often location or theme has intertwined with my regatta/sailing experience. Two years ago, at the same regatta in Clearwater, Florida, from which I’m writing this post, I dove into Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston. What a forceful book about a strong woman—even if she doesn’t always believe she is. The novel, published in 1937, takes place in early 20th century central and southern Florida, and tells the tale of Janie and the very different parts of her life as she is married to three very different men. But though parts of Janie evolve over her life, one thing remains steady—she believes in love and wants that to be the foundation of her marriages. Janie’s strength as she handles what is dealt her is astounding.

Much of Janie’s story is set in the Florida Everglades, and includes a riveting account of Janie and her third husband Tea Cake’s experiences in the Okechobee hurricane. To head to our next regatta in Miami, we towed the Snipe down I-75 through the Everglades. It was a challenge to look past the chain link fence cordoning the River of Grass off from the cars and trucks whizzing by, but it definitely made the trip fly by to imagine Janie and Tea Cake trying to make ends meet in that neck of the woods (or rather, subtropical wetlands).

Today we sailed three races out on the Gulf of Mexico, and the breeze increased steadily through the day. My mind is fried, and body a tad tired, so I’m off to bed now with a good book. Perhaps I’ll find a character, location, or theme that will resonate with my sailing, traveling, and camaraderie experiences this week. My guess is that I will.

Well look no further.  Join me in making 2009 the Christmas of Books.

Over the past year I’ve spent a lot of time in bookstores, primarily for signings, but also for a few luxurious hours of selfish browsing.  I love the illusive scent of reading—paper, ink and imagination all bound together in a unique bundle of comfort and joy.  What could be a better gift?

Fortunately, everyone in my family reads.  So I’m not just giving what I would like to receive, I’m sharing the wealth.  Having unread books on the bedside shelf is like having money in the bank—pure potential.

The postman?  I’ve never asked if he likes books.  All I know is he rides a Harley.

I’ve met some great authors this year, so I’m also playing literary matchmaker.  Chris Abouzeid’s “Anatopsis,” a young adult fantasy, will go to nephews and nieces.  My publisher GemmaMedia just came out with a lovely memoir called “Yarn,” which I’m hoping my ever-knitting mother will enjoy.  My youngest niece (the only one still enjoying colorful illustrations) will get to test her rhyming and multiplication skills with “Math Attack.”  (It’s even autographed, since I shared a table with author Joan Horton at a recent booksigning.)  And two of my favorite men will unwrap—hopefully simultaneously—“Spanish Castle to White Night,” a coffee table book about racing sailboats around the world with excellent text by Mark Chisnell.

Of course, picking out books for others can be a challenge, like trying to imagine what one of my characters would have for breakfast—except that these folks all talk back.  But it’s so much more personal than a gift card.  And there’s nothing more satisfying than introducing someone to just the right story.

Books as presents also have a valuable fringe benefit.  By spending my gift dollars at the independent bookstores that have helped to support me this year, I’m rewarding people in the book industry who still think of books as companions—not just as a part of their bottom line.

As for the postman, I think he’ll get a copy of my own book, “Oliver’s Surprise.”  Maybe I’ll spot him on his Harley next spring, sneaking a peak downward to read about a boy, a schooner, and a bump on the head.