New Release
The Northeast Corner
The setting is Ann Arbor, Michigan in the late 1950s and 1960s in the family’s gracious home, an environment of apparent stability until the narrator overhears her beloved father talking to a strange woman on the phone. And so begins the rest of her life: her father barely survives a massive heart attack, her dog dies and the family’s ancestral home must be sold. In their new house, across town, the grand piano only fits in the flooded basement. Her father, unable to drive, work, climb stairs, now spends his days watching baseball in his first floor bedroom while the narrator and her mother go off to their jobs.
The Northeast Corner depicts one family encountering its share of challenges. How the narrator becomes a young woman will surprise you.
PRAISE FOR THE NORTHEAST CORNER
“With her persistent and keen eye for understanding her family and uncovering the truth, Colby Halloran’s novel recounts how love can mean facing—and accepting—very confusing complications. She strives to “tell it to us straight.” And she succeeds. The Northeast Corner is beautifully written; every word is precise and honest.” — Susan Szeliga, Librarian, Brooklyn, New York
READ AN EXCERPT
From The Northeast Corner
RULES AND MORE RULES
Governments have rules. Schools have rules. Churches have rules. Families have rules.
The rules in my family are:
When the pocket doors to the living room are closed, it means the grown-ups are not to be disturbed. If you have an emergency, knock before you open the pocket doors. An emergency is not baked potatoes exploding in the oven. An emergency is Marky getting hit by a car or the pressure cooker lid flying off.
Two bites are required of every item on your plate. A bite is not one pea or one carrot; a bite is a forkful or a spoonful. If you must wash your bite down with a gulp of milk, reach slowly for your glass.
Do not play with the candles. Let the wax drip. Do not play with your napkin ring.
Never take the food on your plate for granted. Somebody worked hard to grow the food, and somebody worked hard to pay for the food, and somebody worked hard to prepare the food. There is not an endless supply of food all over this world.
Do not give Marky scraps at the dinner table. Later, he can lick our plates, in the pantry.
If you must go to the lavatory during dinner, quietly excuse yourself.
Nobody needs to know where you are going.
Sit up straight. At Mother’s boarding school, there were nails in the back of the dining room chairs. Be grateful your chair does not have nails.
The hand not holding the fork stays in your lap.
When you’ve finished eating, put your knife and fork in the four o’clock position, and don’t push your plate forward like a convict.
The student on the third floor pays rent; don’t invade his privacy.
Don’t interrupt.
Don’t talk with your mouth full.
Don’t ask too many questions.
If you have a story to tell, tell it briefly.
When an older person enters the room, stand up and shake their hand firmly when you are introduced. If their hand is shaking, do not giggle; they could have Parkinson’s.
Writing a thank-you note is not sufficient. You must address the envelope, put a stamp on it, write your name and address on the back, and take it to the nearest mailbox.
Respect absolutely every single person on this earth.