May 25, 2017 – Christa Avampato

As we lead up to the November 1st Pub Day for my novel, Emerson Page and Where the Light Enters, I’m writing a short novella that is a prequel. It will be completely free and available exclusively to people who sign up here: author Christa Avampato’s mailing list.

I’m going to deliver a chapter of it on the first of every month from June through October, and I couldn’t be more excited to share it with you. The June 1st installment will be from the first person perspective of Emerson’s mother, Nora, a world-renowned anthropologist well-known for her research on ancient cultures and languages.

Five years before my novel begins, Nora was found on the steps of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. “We’ve never seen anything like it,” the NYPD’s spokesperson said. “Life has gone out of her with no explanation. It’s as if she just fell asleep on the steps of the museum and never woke up.” And with that, the police gave up their search for answers.

But Emerson didn’t. Her journey to discover the answers about her mother’s death takes her deep below the streets of New York City on a dangerous adventure into a secret world of books where the very existence of human imagination is at stake.

What was Nora doing at the museum? As someone who was loved and admired by so many, was there someone who would want to harm her? And why is there no discernible cause for her death?

Find out the secrets Nora was hiding, in life and in death, by signing up to receive the novella!

“I like stories where women save themselves.” ~Neil Gaiman

Screw patience. Do what makes you happy now. If someone asked me how I got to the point I am in my life now, as a person and as a writer, my answer would be “I’ve always been my own savior.” I’ve never expected anyone to fix anything or do anything for me. I don’t want or wait well. All I really know how to do is roll up my sleeves and get to work. Sometimes that work is with other people like my experience in theater, and sometimes that work is on my own like sitting down to write my book. Some call it feisty, others call it fiery, and I call it building a life I love.

Our time is so precious and so short. It flies by despite our efforts to slow it down. Every day matters. Don’t bottle yourself up or tell yourself , “Someday, I’ll do what I love.” Do it now. Some day is today, every day. I promised myself a long time ago that I wasn’t going to die with the music, or the books, still in me. I was going to live and write out loud. However improbable my book seemed, I was going to find a way to get it done. And I did. You will, too. Keep writing.