The Unraveling of Julia Archives

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!

By Lisa Scottoline

Well, it’s that time of year again.

I mean, it’s time to meet with my accountant.

I do this every year around Christmas.

Usually, after Christmas shopping.

It would make sense to talk to the accountant before Christmas shopping, but that would be no fun.

You don’t want to have a conversation with your accountant before the holidays.

It’s like having a conversation with your dietitian.

Not that I have one, but like many women, I am one.

My four basic food groups are pasta.

Is that okay?

But nobody likes holiday presents more than I do.

I get more excited than most five-year olds.

I think a gift is a way to show people you love them and you’re grateful to them, every day of the year.

It doesn’t have to cost a lot of money.

So my accountant reminds me.

He meets with me to tell me when I can retire, given my current rate of spending.

I tell him I’m not interested in retiring, I’m interested in spending.

He says he just wants me to make an informed decision.

Where was he before I got married?

The second time.

Okay, the first, too.

The bottom line is, I’m trying to make better mistakes.

In any event, I don’t feel like retiring anytime soon. In fact, today I announced the new book coming out this summer, my first psychological thriller. I’ve never written one before, but between politics and the news, I’ve never felt so psychological.

Its entitled The Unraveling of Julia because I’m feeling vaguely unraveled.

I changed the name so you wouldn’t know it was me.

That’s the fiction part.

I love telling stories for a living. It’s totally fun and even though it’s hard work, you get to do it in your teddybear clothes, as Daughter Francesca calls them.

I write as an excuse to dress like a teddybear.

And I know retirement is a great thing and most of my friends are retired and doing a lot of fun things. They hike, bike, ski, volunteer, take classes, and play pickle ball.

I might be the only person my age who doesn’t play pickleball.

That said, I’m also a person who just got a puppy.

At my age, that took some calculating. I hope I’ll be around for the length of this dog’s life.

That means I have to live a long time.

Or the puppy dies PDQ.

You know you’re old if after you get a puppy, you have to revise your will.

But I want this puppy provided for. She’s accustomed to toys and treats.

Every girl should be.

So my puppy’s also my beneficiary.

I know it sounds silly, but it isn’t. I was a good friend of my late neighbor Harry, who passed away, leaving his very old cat Spunky. There were no provisions in his will for Spunky, so I took the cat in and he tottered around my second floor, safe from my rambunctious dogs, and basically Spunky lived the life of Riley.

I thought he had a month left to live.

Five years later, he was playing pickleball.

Anyway, I think the holidays are for life, and love.

Not accountants or dietitians or estates lawyers.

I say, Love big, and live big.

And thanks big, to all of you.

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