Rhys Celebrates Pub Day of MRS. ENDICOTT'S SPLENDID ADVENTURE.

 RHYS BOWEN: Hello friends. Please raise a glass with me to drink a toast to Mrs. Endicott! She is a woman who has been ignored and unappreciated for all of her married life. She has lived HIS life. And when she is cast aside in favor of a younger woman she does not go quietly. Instead she escapes with two other women whom society has ignored, in her husband's Bentley to the south of France and finds a whole new and exciting life there.

I hope this book will be encouragement to all middle-aged women who think that life has passed them by. You are never too old for adventures, new challenges, a new life.  My daughter's close friend went to medical school at 55. My own daughter became a psycho-therapist after she turned 50. 

But this story has me thinking about invisible women. After a certain age women become invisible. That's why Miss Marple is such a good sleuth. She sits doing her knitting, observing everything, overhearing everything and nobody knows she is there!

It can be bloody annoying at times. I have certainly experienced it myself. I was waiting in line at a car rental counter. A man in front of me and one behind me. The first man was being served. Another employee came on and said to the man behind me, "Can I help you, sir?"

I (being me) spoke up, "Is a woman not allowed to rent a car in this state? I wasn't aware of such a rule."

She said hastily, 'I'm sorry madam. I thought you were with that gentleman."

That's always it. They think you should only be out in the presence of a male protector. How archaic. When I'm on book tour I have to eat in hotels a lot. So either I can order room service and get cold meals and a limited menu or I can face the restaurant. When I appear they aask, "Are you waiting for somebody?" And when I say no, a table for one, they escort me to a table in a far corner, behind the potted palm and usually close to the loo. I have learned to counter this. As we cross the dining room I say,"I'd prefer to sit near the window, thank you" and take a prime location. I then ask for the wine list and order an expensive wine that I know they can't pronounce. "I'd like the Schattsheimer-Gewurztrauminer, please."

They then know that they can't ignore me.  

And when it's not being ignored it's being patronized. They call you dear with a silly smile on their faces. "What medications are you taking, dear?" at the doctor's office, as if I've suddenly become simple in the head.  I had one young medical person suggest I give up typing and take up another hobby if it was affecting my neck and shoulders.

"Would you give up typing if you sold a million copies?" I asked sweetly. Small victories.

And so the fight goes on. For my three women in the book they do establish themselves in a place where they become a respected part of the community. When they are given the chance they blossom. For the rest of us the struggle continues.

I know this is resonating with a lot of our Reddies. Have you had to endure similar patronizing put downs? What do you do about it? A signed copy of the new book to my favorite comment!

And for friends in the Bay Area, I'll be hosting a launch party at Book Passage in Corte Madera on Saturday August 9, at 4 pm. See you there!

Rhys is enjoying the south of France.

 RHYS BOWEN:  I believe I've shared the beginning of my latest opus, called (for now) Mrs. Endicott's Excellent Adventure.  It's about a respectable middle aged woman whose life is turned upside down when her husband says he wants a divorce to marry a younger woman.  He expects her to go away quietly, live in a cottage with knitting and cats. She surprises him by taking his beloved Bentley and setting off for the south of France, a place she had loved as a girl but never been back to since. (Lionel hates abroad. He's says its full of garlic and flies.)

She doesn't go alone. The bossy elderly spinster who runs the village charities appears at her door and begs to come with her. She only has months to live and longs to see the blue Mediterranean. Ellie can't say no. Then she rescues her cleaning lady from an abusive husband, persuading her to come too. The three of them set out on the adventure winding up in a small seaside town near Marseille.

I know that whole coast well. I've rented an apartment twice in the area near Nice. We've driven all along the coast and the scenery is absolutely amazing. I'm basing this book on the town of Cassis, as it would have been before tourism hit--a small harbor, some pastel houses. What I love about writing this book is that I can be there, all day, at my computer. I smell the flowers and the salt air of the sea. I watch the yachts passing and taste the delicious food.

The piece I am sharing is after the ladies have moved in to a villa on a hilltop (how they get this is a part of the plot so you just have to know they are there).

One morning She came upon Dora, sitting on the terrace, staring out to sea. At first she thought Dora was lost in contemplation but then noticed one hand was on her wrist. She was taking her pulse.

                “Are you in pain?” she asked, going over to sit beside her.

                Dora looked up, startled at being interrupted from her reverie. “Oh no. No pain. It’s my heart, you see. Congestive heart failure. It’s funny but for a while I’d forgotten that I was supposed to be dead by now. All the excitement of coming here, finding this place. I’d really forgotten. And it was only now that I noticed how quickly I became out of breath and how weak my pulse had become.

“Should we take you to a doctor?” Ellie asked in concern.

Dora shook her head. “Oh no, my dear. Doctors can’t do anything. One day it will just stop beating and that will be that. It shouldn’t be a messy death for you.”

Ellie looked at her with tenderness. “Are you afraid to die?”

“Afraid?” Dora shook her head fiercely. “No, I’m not afraid. Only annoyed.”

“Annoyed?” Ellie had to smile.

“Yes, at all the things I never managed to do. I never climbed the Himalayas. I never rode with the Bedouins across the desert. I never wrote a novel or found a drug that might cure cancer. I leave no legacy, no proof that I was ever here.”

“I’m sure you were missed in the village,” Ellie said kindly.

“Missed, yes. But not beloved. That fussy old woman. That bossy old woman. That’s the height of my achievement in life, I suppose. Properly ironed altar cloths and perfect flowers for the church. They’ll miss the flowers, but not me.”

“I’ll miss you,” Ellie said. “Let’s just see if we can keep you around a little longer, eh? Buck you up with some good food.”

Dora smiled at her. “You’ve been a good friend, Ellie. One of the only true friends I’ve had. I’ll be sorry to leave this place.” She turned away, staring out to sea again. Today the Mediterranean sparkled under a cloudless sky. A sleek yacht passed, far out to sea. The breeze was scented with blossom.

This should be a book about a woman finding a whole new life and blossoming as a person. The only complication is that they arrive in this little town at the end of 1938. Their world is about to change and how they handle it becomes a main part of the story.

ONe of my great pleasures when I read is to be taken to another time and place, to savor the smells and tastes. This is why I loved Tony Hillerman. I love Kate Morton, Louise Penny, Cara Black and my fellow Reds because I can go to London or Paris or Ireland or Key West or freeze in Upstate New York

So what about you? Do you love to travel vicariously when you read? Favorite authors who take you somewhere?