A Heartfelt Book Recommendation
Shining light on a book by my writing mentor, Charles Bock.
I'm excited to share a book close to my heart, not just for its content but for the person behind it. Soon after I decided to pursue a writing career, I was introduced to Charles Bock. I needed an editor to help me find my voice and guide me as I wrote the first few chapters of my story. A friend and notable author told me that Charles was the one I needed.
I was initially skeptical about working with a male editor on a story about motherhood, infant loss, grief, and infertility. However, my doubts vanished after our first call. Charles shared that my story struck home as we had many parallels in our lives. His first wife, Diana, had longed to be a mother but tragically passed away from cancer before their daughter Lily's third birthday. His experiences with grief, love, and the extreme emotions of parenthood made him the perfect teacher for me. Over several months, I felt like my own personal MFA professor was sitting on my shoulder.
Charles' guidance has been instrumental in helping me sign with a literary agent (hello, Stacey Glick!). Over several months, he patiently read my early drafts and responded with thoughtful and encouraging editorial letters. He was kind enough to invite me to the preview party for his soon to be published book, I Will Do Better: A Father’s Memoir of Heartbreak, Parenting, and Love, which will be released on October 1st.
The official blurb is:
I Will Do Better is New York Times bestselling writer Charles Bock’s frank and tender memoir of parenting his toddler daughter in the wake of his wife’s untimely death.
The novelist Charles Bock was a reluctant parent, tagging along for the ride of fatherhood, obsessed primarily with his dream of a writing career. But when his daughter Lily was six months old, his wife, Diana, was diagnosed with a complex form of leukemia. Two and half years later, when all treatments and therapies had been exhausted, Bock found himself a widower—devastated, drowning in medical bills, and saddled with a daunting responsibility. He had to nurture Lily, and, somehow, maybe even heal himself.
Charles has supported my writing with his expertise and knowledge. This means so much to me not only because he believes in my story—but also because he’s a professor and a best-selling author with much valuable experience. His guidance has quickly helped me take my writing to the next level.
I wanted to thank him and share my thoughts on his upcoming memoir with you.
August 2024
Dear Charles,
First of all, wow. I’ve read your new book, and page after page, I found reasons to dog-ear the corners and make notes in the margins. It is the pinnacle of good writing—the kind that makes the reader want to keep reading, no matter what else they're supposed to be doing. The other day, I missed a subway stop because I was absorbed in your story.
Your portrayal of fatherhood doubts and the uncertainty we all face as parents is relatable. You've captured how moments like getting our kids off to school can feel monumental. There’s no instruction manual; as we raise our kids, all we can do is our best while telling ourselves, “I will do better.”
In your pages, I see examples of what you’ve been teaching me to do. Introduce something seemingly unimportant—the cheese stick tucked into your pocket—and then have it resurface with significance later on.
“When her eyes found me, her relief was transformative, “DADDY!”
Squishy cheese liquefied inside my grip.”
Through your words, we can see and feel your humanity. You’re real. You’re not perfect, but hot-damn, you’re trying. Paragraph by paragraph, I’m rooting for you.
Your words made me love your late wife, Diana. The passage from her parting letter to you made my skin tingle.
"If I die, I will be an angel looking after you, putting the right person in your life, trying to help you however I can from the other side. Have faith in me."
She rocks.
When you describe the scene with Diana's ashes, it's raw and honest. You’re bringing us into one of your most private and personal moments. Thank you for your vulnerability.
You’re employing expository writing, as you’ve encouraged me to embrace. Not “another year passed,” but instead:
"Time moved in the only direction it knows. We stumbled along in its gale, trying to plant our feet here, get some leverage there, and then, pretty much the same way that one of Hemingway's characters famously went broke—'gradually then suddenly'—her fourth birthday approached."
Your book is heavy. I feel your exhaustion and your struggle to keep things together. Yet you also made me laugh.
Your writing is vivid, honest, and profoundly moving. You've crafted a narrative that will resonate with anyone who has loved, lost, or faced the daunting task of raising a child alone.
You leave the readers knowing it'll be you and Lily vs. the world, and the two of you will win.
Congratulations on this triumph of a book!
May you sell a million copies,
Lia
To my readers: Charles' guidance has been invaluable in my writing journey. His ability to nurture voices and stories is evident in his editorial work and writing. I wholeheartedly recommend pre-ordering his book. It's a powerful exploration of love, loss, and parenthood's messy and beautiful journey.
I’ll pre-order a copy of I Will Do Better for the first person who comments that they’d love one.
Thank you for supporting excellent writing and for being part of my community.
Words of the Week:
“I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a book! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library.” — Jane Austen’s character Miss. Bingley in Pride and Prejudice
Photo of the Week:
A photo from artist Deborah Brown’s current exhibition at Plato Gallery. You’ll hear more about the artist and her work in an upcoming newsletter. Still, I wanted to share a photo of this—my favorite piece from the exhibition.
Deborah began her “shadow painting” series during the pandemic. The newer works sometimes have a shadow of her and her dog, as this one does. The works on display at Plato Gallery expertly depict scenes their shadows traverse.
When I saw this painting, my mind immediately went to the spot at the base of the Brooklyn Bridge, where there is always a collection of food trucks. There used to be guys with boom boxes performing, but they haven’t been around the past few times I’ve been there. Their absence feels like a slight shift in the ever-changing landscape of the city.
I’ll buy a copy of I Will Do Better and send it to the first person that leaves a comment saying they’d like it. So head over to the comments—fast!
Thank you so much for this recommendation Lia. I love reading memoirs so looking forward to this one.
I would love a copy. It sounds great. 💕💕💕💕