Her new novel is Swift Edge.
Not so long ago I asked her what she was reading. Her reply:
I’m currently reading Mr. Ives’ Christmas by Oscar Hijuelos, which seems appropriate since Christmas is just around the corner. It’s a tale of loss and relationship, told in a vaguely Dickensian way with an omniscient narrator that I find fascinating. It is inspiring me to attempt a similar narrator myself, probably in a short story. I usually dash through books, racing the detective to the conclusion, but Mr. Ives has a gravity that is making me read slowly and savor the experience. I’m rationing how much I read because I don’t want to reach the end. I foresee tears in the near future and I’m actually anticipating that release of emotion.Visit Laura DiSilverio's website and Facebook page.
I just finished Reed Farrel Coleman’s Walking the Perfect Square. I met Coleman recently at a Mystery Writers of America event and was impressed by his thoughts about how a novel is structured/created, so I bought the second in his Moe Prager series, Redemption Street. When I wrote to tell him how brilliant I thought it was, he kindly sent me the first in the series. I like this series because Moe is a serious PI with a real family life, the mysteries have some edge but aren’t gory or over-the-top, and Coleman has a delicious way of playing with time throughout the series that makes it refreshing.
Finally, I’m reading poetry: Thirst by Mary Oliver. I don’t read poetry, but I picked up a copy of Thirst on a friend’s end table and read the first poem, “The Messenger,” and was hooked. She writes about nature and spirituality in a simple, accessible way that moves me. I only allow myself a poem or two a day. They sometimes bring on happy tears (I don’t usually cry so much—put it down to the emotional time of year), and the urge to sit on my front porch or deck, quiet my mind, and absorb the world around me. I have the deep conviction, reading her poetry, that if I did that more often, I’d be a far happier, more peaceful person.
--Marshal Zeringue