Something to Read this Summer

For a fun bit of light reading this summer, might we humbly recommend Greetings From Belleville, New Jersey - Collected Writings by Anthony Buccino. Well, no, it's not a travel book, but you could sort of travel back in time if you're of a certain generation. And, no, it's not a book that's full of laughs, but you might find yourself laughing.

Here's a bit of what a critic said about the book:

"The author gives a heartfelt glimpse into life in his hometown. It will appeal most to others from similar places, but the nostalgia and reminiscence will appeal to all readers who long for the home and life of their youth....

"The author's writing is friendly and easy to relate to, but sometimes he spends too long discussing things in depth that most readers are already familiar with (like defrosting early electric freezers). The author's friendly voice sounds like a neighbor swapping great stories on the back porch. Readers feel like they know the author, his family, and his town. 

"The author's casual voice occasionally lends itself to informal grammar and word usage. While many, many details have the ring of familiarity, the author also brings out the unique aspects of his own experience. The author's humor, thankfulness, and openness are the book's greatest assets. The cover image suggests a more rural life than the small town setting depicted in the book."

Well, that gives you an idea. You can form your own opinions when you've read it. If you like it you'll probably like the original collections where some of these essays were first collected. 

And, you know, it makes a really nice gift for your friend who has everything.

Available in print and Kindle or Nook ebook formats.

My 14-Year-Old Self Came in the Mail

Should I Open?

A large brown envelope arrived recently in snail mail from Ashtabula, Ohio. It contained copies of letters I wrote to a young woman named Mary when we were 14. We met in the northeastern Ohio township, and decided to keep in touch when my summer vacation ended.
I found her on Facebook, and we got in touch after four decades. When she realized I’d become a writer, she mentioned my letters in a box in her attic. Would I like copies? What could I have possible said in those letters to a relative stranger 300 miles away? And why would she save them into this millennium?
“They’re about what you’d expect a 14 year old to write about,” she said.
Would I like to meet myself at 14? Not that I could go back and talk some sense into my head, but what I think about those times now and what I was actually saying at the time, well, they’re mountains apart.

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