Michelle Granas was born in Alaska, but currently divides her time between Oregon and Poland. She has degrees in philosophy and comparative literature, but now works s a translator. Over the past dozen years she has translated for many of Poland’s major politicians and writers, including short pieces for the Nobel Prize winner Lech Walesa and Nobel Prize nominee Ryszard Kapuscinski.
Now she has her own work available and we are the fortunate ones to read excerpts of it on this Book Blast!
Follow Michelle Granas on Goodreads.
Although set in Poland, this is a story that could happen anywhere, as young democracies struggle against the temptations of covert operations and older democracies sometimes lead them astray.
Following you’ll find a short excerpt from the book. I hope you’ll want to read more and look for this Blast around the web.
But it was at moments like these that she realized most sharply that her mother was lost to her. It was an old tragedy, though, and now it affected Cordelia not with the intense pain of its first appearance, but only in that it made her feel more friendless, stretched her nerves a little tighter. Since she was alone she wanted to be truly alone. And her mother was talking, she had to answer.
“Why have they gone?”
“No one tells me anything.”
“What shall I tell you? I had a very strange proposal today.”
“Did you, dear?” her mother sounded almost as if she were responding, but Cordelia knew it was only coincidental. Her mother began to mutter something to herself. Cordelia made another effort to distract her.
“Pan Zaremba wants me to – to enter into a civil contract with him, what do you think? You like him, don’t you?”
“He’s a dog.”
“No, Mom, Hempseed is a dog.” Cordelia’s head began to hurt. She glanced at her watch: 10:00. Her mother might be up for hours, and she wanted so badly to go to bed. She reached for a book and handed it to her mother, but her mother took it weakly and before long put it angrily aside. “It’s garbage.”
“You’re probably right,” answered Cordelia wearily.
“It’s all garbage.” She gestured towards the bookshelves, but that might have been only accidental. “It doesn’t help at all.”
“No.” It didn’t. That was true. There wasn’t a single book there that Cordelia could reach down and that would help in her situation; and yet, there were lines swimming up to consciousness: Milton, was it, about virtue assailed by force and yet unhurt?
If this fail, the pillared firmament is rottenness,
And the earth’s base built on stubble.
Cordelia’s mother interrupted her thoughts. “You’re garbage too.” She reached out and patted Cordelia on the shoulder.
Cordelia knew that her mother didn’t mean the words, had no idea what she had said, meant, perhaps, something completely different, if anything at all.
To celebrate the release of her book Michelle will give away a paperback copy of the book. Enter the Rafflecopter to earn a chance to win this.