The Unraveling of Julia Archives

By Lisa Scottoline

My friends, these are plot-twisty times.

Of course I’m talking about my new puppy Eve.

Before I get started, let me thank you for your patience in reading my classic columns while I’ve been finishing my next book. I can’t do two things at once, so I had to take a break in the homestretch of the draft, but now it’s done, so I’m back writing fresh columns.

And you know how fresh I can be.

Also let me say thank you so much for your support of my book The Unraveling of Julia, which came out this summer. Many of you have been reading me for years, even decades, and I’m grateful for you every day.

Okay, back to new puppy Eve.

You may remember that I got Eve a few months ago, for lots of reasons, but mainly because I wanted a dog to take walks with me every day.

My two other dogs, Boone and Kit, are thirteen years old, and they don’t share my enthusiasm for the walk.

In truth, I don’t share my enthusiasm for the walk.

I make myself do it because it’s the laziest form of exercise.

I say that with love.

I have friends who run, hike, ski, and bicycle. I make excuses not to do those things.

Even I can’t find an excuse not to walk.

But we all love a plot twist, and Eve doesn’t like to walk.

As in, Eve will not walk.

If I go towards her with the harness, she runs away.

If I jingle a leash, she scoots under the bed.

If I actually succeed in putting a harness on her, she plants her front end down and her back end up and refuses to move.

I didn’t know why.

Dogs love to walk, right?

And who wouldn’t want to walk with me?

I’m a gas.

Actually I have gas.

Maybe that’s it?

Anyway I wondered if she had something wrong with her, so I took her to the vet, who examined her legs, and at my insistence, even did an x-ray.

Her legs are fine. She just doesn’t want to walk.

By the way, she doesn’t want to go to the car, either.

I jingle keys like the people in commercials, where the dogs jump up and bolt out the door to the car.

Eve bolts to the couch.

I even took her to obedience school.

She was a champ there, like the teacher’s pet.

Literally.

But now Evil is back to her old ways.

Finally I did what any mom would do.

I bribed her.

I carry her outside, then give her treats as we walk along.

You can imagine how comfortable this is, me bending over every ten steps and cheering “good girl” all the way.

Still, I’m into it. I love her and I love walking, so I’m going to make it work.

We parents can’t predict what our children will do, for good or for ill.

I say that because this summer also produced a different plot twist for me, a wonderful one in that my daughter Francesca’s second novel Full Bloom was published. It’s an amazing novel, and thank you to all of you who supported her book with the same enthusiasm you have shown mine over the years.

And because of you, in a wonderful plot twist, Francesca made the USA TODAY Bestseller List, right next to me! In the same week, my novel was the 79th and hers was the 80^th bestselling book of all sold in the country.

Wait, what?

Wow!

We were side-by-side on the list, as in life!

What are the odds?

It’s a harmonic convergence, family-wise.

By the way, I didn’t know Francesca would grow up to be a writer.

I wanted her to be a veterinarian.

For obvious reasons.

But I’m so happy and proud of her, and this summer taught me a great lesson:

You really do not know where life will lead you, or your family.

Sometimes there’s trouble, other times there’s joy.

I celebrate those joyful moments.

With enormous gratitude.

And now, Eve and I are going for a walk.

Good girl!

By Lisa Scottoline

Mother’s Day is almost here.

I’m already lactating.

Why?

Because I’m having a mommy-type moment that I wanted to share with you. Not only because it’s a cool thing that’s happening to me, but because it’s a little reminder that wonderful things can happen in a woman’s lifetime.

We begin way back when Daughter Francesca was born, and I quit my job as a lawyer because I really enjoyed being home with her. Lawyering didn’t work for me part time, and the months after her birth made me realize that raising her was simply the most important, and fun, thing I could do.

This all sounds great until you realize I was getting divorced and had zero money. So I decided to be a writer, and then followed five years living on credit cards while writing and getting rejected.

But meanwhile I got to stay home with Francesca, and I remember those early days so well, because the lack of money was beside the point. I was doing something I loved, being with this curly-haired, blue-eyed, baby, and watching her grow.

I remember after I’d put her down at night, she’d be in her crib, talking away.

I would stand outside her bedroom, listening, but I couldn’t make out any of the words. She was just yakking up a storm, in an extremely animated way.

This would last for hours.

So one day, when she was about four years old, I asked her, “Who are you talking to in your room at night?”

And she answered, “I’m telling myself my stories.”

Fast-forward a couple of decades later, when she actually becomes an author, and this summer, something remarkable is happening. Namely, my storyteller daughter has a novel coming out in August, entitled Full Bloom.

Plus I have a novel coming out in July, entitled The Unraveling of Julia.

This is a harmonic convergence for our tiny two-person family.

This summer, mother and daughter will be blooming and unraveling together.

You can pre-order our books now, and we’d be delighted if you would!

We’re even doing events together, and I can only imagine how proud my mother would be. She would curse with happiness, her highest form of self-expression.

For what it’s worth, I never pushed Francesca to be an author.

I pushed her to become a veterinarian.

I need a vet very badly.

Nor do I take any credit for her becoming an author, because the best storyteller in our family was Mother Mary. She could turn anything into a story, and she knew to keep it short, punchy and funny, just like her.

The day of her funeral, there was such a heavy rainstorm that my entrance hall flooded for the first and the last time ever. Francesca was sure it was a sign from her, and I agree.

Somehow, I know that my mother will show up at one of our signings this summer, heckle us, and/or do something vaguely obscene.

I can’t wait.

It reminds me of the saying that everything will be alright in the end, and if it’s not alright yet, then it’s not the end.

Well, this might be the end because everything’s alright.

And this author’s getting her own happy ending.

Thanks, Mom.

And thanks, Francesca

Happy Mother’s Day!

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