Fireside Collections Review: Old Broad Road/On The Rock by Phyllis L Humby

 

A Fireside Collections book review

When 63 year old Sylvia Kramer showed up in Chapel's Cove, Newfoundland she was far from ready to embark upon another love affair. That, however, is exactly what happened. Still in shock over her recent divorce from husband Paul, after what was perceived to be a marriage rooted in love and respect, and estranged from her adult children and grandchildren, Sylvia was broken and in need of an escape. A one way ticket to an east coast destination is what Sylvia seems to need; a place where she would be embraced by warmth and friendliness, eclectic people and unknown dialects, new delicacies waiting to be explored. A healthy dose of the North Atlantic is indeed the tonic that brings new life to Sylvia but evil lurks in all corners of the world and Sylvia is certainly forced to endure her share of the worst, plunging her into a tailspin of depression and doubt and experimentation with unorthodox coping strategies. Old Broad Road and On The Rock by author Phyllis L. Humby is the two part, two novel story of one woman’s will to survive and to make sense of her seemingly senseless world. 

On Route 60, I pulled the truck over and walked to a bench at the shoreline. My breath quickened at the natural beauty of Conception Bay as I gazed across the horizon. The drizzle had ended and the sun was remarkably warm. I removed my jacket to soak up the rays and then stretched my legs out in front of me until I settled into a relaxed position. My eyes grew heavy.   

I could see myself, arms outstretched, walk to the water's edge. Cautiously hop from rock to boulder. The blue sea lapped around my feet. The water crept up my legs past my knees. It stretched up my thighs and circled my hips, the silky surface luring me to its depths. My feet drifted off the rocks. My body submerged into the mysterious wet underworld. The icy water warmed me as I succumbed to the zenith of serenity. 

 (Old Broad Road)

In this two part series, Humby crafts a beautiful story that is masterfully written in the first person. In many respects,

the story has an “Eat, Pray, Love” feel with the main character Sylvia embarking upon a voyage of self discovery and new beginnings.  Though there are some heartbreaking incidents throughout both books that test Sylvia’s resolve,  this amazing piece of Canadiana is more about how love and friendship can conquer all. It is very much a feel good story that the reader just won’t want to put down and the tragic events are just part of that story. Humby also pens beautiful descriptions of an outport lifestyle that would be the envy of any writer. Her descriptions are factually accurate and truly invite the reader to become part of the story. Likewise, the author creates a wonderfully diverse cast of authentic characters that are as colourful as the jelly bean row houses located in old St. John’s. Instrumental to the development of the story and to Sylvia’s own personal development, the characters are funny and joyous, humble and adventurous. They are a wholesome mix of hearty Newfoundlanders (and some “Come From Aways”), a group I secretly wished to be a part of especially when they got together for celebrations and dinner parties.

Old Broad Road and On The Rock by Phyllis L. Humby is the story of one woman’s love affair with a place and with people who are just good for the soul. This book will leave you laughing, smiling, and crying and definitely booking your next adventure to Newfoundland. Phyllis L. Humby lives in the municipality of Lambton Shores, Ontario. She is the author of Hazards of The Tree, Old Broad Road and On The Rock published by Crossfield Publishing.

Book Reviews shared from firesidecollections.blogspot.com

Cathy Marie Buchanan marks anniversary

Cathy Marie Buchanan’s Facebook post this week celebrating the thirteenth anniversary of becoming a published author brought back warm memories for me.

It was during her book signing tour for The Day the Falls Stood Still when she popped into a small local library on an escorted trek around the city. During the author’s impromptu visit, the librarian mentioned my manuscript!

I was at the stage of giving up. Discouraged by query rejections, I was ready to burn the manuscript, convinced I’d never find an agent or publisher. This librarian, who had generously agreed to read my manuscript, felt moved by my novel and must have still been under its spell. Whatever she told the New York Best Selling Author prompted Cathy Buchanan to hand over her phone number with instructions for me to call her. Can you believe it??

Of course I phoned, but not before rushing out to purchase her book. I read it thoroughly and appreciatively, gulped, and dialled her number. During our thirty minute conversation, she offered

Old Broad Road and On The Rock – Inside Scoop

The novels Old Broad Road and On The Rock are written in First Person Point of View. This might account for why some readers associate the protagonist Sylvia Kramer with me, being the author, and her life with mine. But this series is fiction and not based on any drama or characters in my own personal world.

Here are my answers to some of the most frequently asked questions: 

Q: Why was it important for your main character to share your love of cooking?

(throat clearing) I love eating, but cooking…not so much. It’s true that in both Old Broad Road and On The Rock, Sylvia Kramer effortlessly throws together spectacularly delicious meals. One reviewer even warned people not to read these books on an empty stomach. I love it! If you were salivating reading about the meals, imagine how it felt doing the research. Of course, I’d sampled many of the Newfoundland and Labrador delicacies during my vacation there.

Q: How long did you live in Newfoundland?

I’ve never lived in Newfoundland. It was through my several pleasurable vacations in the province that I was inspired to write Old Broad Road and subsequently On The Rock. As a sidenote, I'd never visited Chapel's Cove, NL, which is the setting of these books, until after I'd written them. I'll always remember how I felt standing on Sylvia's beach for the first time. It was a profound and magical moment.

Q: Do you have tattoos?

You're Only an Oddball Until You Find Your Tribe

 Nine years ago I wrote my first blog post. Reading it now reminds me how it felt to be without a tribe. My tribe. The storytellers. It also brings back the rush of realizing my passion for writing fiction.

Here is an excerpt of the post I wrote as I began my journey as a writer. 

 All my life I have been the oddball.  Not quite fitting.  Different from the rest−the rest of the family, the rest of the class, the rest of the co-workers.

I was the one staring off into space−lost in thought. 

It was not that I wasn’t focused.  I was too focused.  Not on what was happening around me, but what was going on in my mind....a whole other world.

I am not sure at what age I started recording some of my daydreams.  I suppose the first stories found their way to paper when I was a child living in Sarnia, Ontario and later as a teen, in Cambridge.  Even

'Feel Good' Birthdays

 In past years, I indulged in the ‘feel good’ things on my birthday. Lingering over a coffee downtown Sarnia always brought memories of when I was a kid waiting in line at The Odeon with my friend Barb. We’d pay a quarter for a movie and then stay to watch it over and over. Good times.

And at the end of one summer I spent all my babysitting money on clothes at Pacesetters. Wow, that was a lot of babysitting. My special day usually included a visit to the library for a couple of hours to luxuriate in the smell of books and the pleasure of having literature of every kind at my fingertips. There would be shopping, too. I’d drift in and out of stores looking for nothing in particular and being delighted to find some small thing that I couldn’t live
without. My day normally included lunch with friends and… well, the list of things that pleased me about my birthday could go on forever.
But this year, ye gads! What to do? Not to worry, my friends. I tossed my scarf, gloves, and hat in my