Carmichael’s, the restaurant her family owns in my new novel, has me looking more closely at others.

One of the conundrums I’m left with in my new novel, What’s Left: What if you don’t like her father, her deceased Baba, as she recovers him? (Or recovers from him.) Is it essential to your enjoyment of the story?

Or worse yet, what if you don’t like her?

Here’s one detail about him I cut from the finished version:

Baba came to marvel in everyday details. The wonder of making a perfect sandwich, the arrival of a subway train, the fact the sun would rise or set on schedule.


The premise has me recalling Peter Matthiessen’s Killing Mister Watson, where the central figure was a villain of great magnitude, and the more details you had, the less you knew of him for certain. That was never my intention with Cassia!

If anything, I want to know more about everyday affection. And caring, especially.

What do you most like about your father? About your mother? About yourself? One, two, or all three?

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