St. Hilaire turns a complicated romantic ballet full of missteps into a collage of people, places, and cultures. Fragments of French is an exquisitely detailed travelogue of Portugal, Canada, France, and Mexico, filled with minor characters who delight with their humanity. However, what really makes this tale a standout is a gift for pacing and description to rival Tom Wolfe.
The hero’s journey is not only for the characters of our favorite stories or mythical legends. At some point, each of us receives the call to adventure. Fate summons the hero; we can refuse the call, or step into something that will turn our lives upside down, and potentially change everything we know to be true.
From feeling “completely disarmed, no fortress standing”, to embracing her untethered strength, the author turns this account of living life out loud into lessons for us all.
Our day-to-day lives typically flow with the minutiae of the known. There is the mundane and the comfortable; like the ratty robe that we wrap around ourselves to watch movies in, with a hot cup of tea from our favorite mug. There are our unvarying routines, our jobs, the people we know, and the places we frequent, which give us stability and a sense of certainty in an uncertain world.
And occasionally, there are the extraordinary moments when a life-altering fork in the road appears, when constancy vanishes underneath us and we are presented with an opportunity that excites us, stretches us far beyond the boundaries of our self-imposed restrictions, and scares the bejesus out of us. We have the freedom to choose, but we cannot know the long-term ramifications, or predict the final outcome of either decision, be it yay or nay.
Had I picked the road most traveled, this house would look the same as it did three months ago. My heartbeat would be steady and, at this moment, I would be asleep in my big brass bed, safely tucked under a thick, goose-down duvet. Monday morning, I would awaken to a flurry of faxes and phone calls in the small office upstairs, and then race off on a snowy road-trip for a week of intensive work. But that pathway may have led me to a deep gorge of regret, and a lifetime of what-ifs. I could not take that chance, ending up an old, disenchanted woman, retelling what might have been.
No one I know has done this before; I have no frame of reference. I am taking the fork to the far left, one that holds an exciting adventure fraught with potential peril. I have overcome my fears by nullifying them one by one. I am leaping without a net.
I crawl into my sleeping bag and toss restlessly, a barrage of questions battering my bewildered brain. I will leave tomorrow on a jet plane for the most unknown journey of my life. I do not know what awaits me, and I do not know when I will be back again.
And occasionally, there are the extraordinary moments when a life-altering fork in the road appears, when constancy vanishes underneath us and we are presented with an opportunity that excites us, stretches us far beyond the boundaries of our self-imposed restrictions, and scares the bejesus out of us. We have the freedom to choose, but we cannot know the long-term ramifications, or predict the final outcome of either decision, be it yay or nay.
Had I picked the road most traveled, this house would look the same as it did three months ago. My heartbeat would be steady and, at this moment, I would be asleep in my big brass bed, safely tucked under a thick, goose-down duvet. Monday morning, I would awaken to a flurry of faxes and phone calls in the small office upstairs, and then race off on a snowy road-trip for a week of intensive work. But that pathway may have led me to a deep gorge of regret, and a lifetime of what-ifs. I could not take that chance, ending up an old, disenchanted woman, retelling what might have been.
No one I know has done this before; I have no frame of reference. I am taking the fork to the far left, one that holds an exciting adventure fraught with potential peril. I have overcome my fears by nullifying them one by one. I am leaping without a net.
I crawl into my sleeping bag and toss restlessly, a barrage of questions battering my bewildered brain. I will leave tomorrow on a jet plane for the most unknown journey of my life. I do not know what awaits me, and I do not know when I will be back again.
Wanda St. Hilaire has a predilection and passion for all things Latin, and she believes life is too short not to do what you love, where you love. She spends time writing in Mexico for inspiration, and to escape the frozen landscapes of Alberta.
Through writing, St. Hilaire shares what she’s learned from the high peaks of adventure and love, to the dark valleys of illness and heartbreak. Her mission is to help people overcome the self, and tap into their wise inner guidance system. Her wish is to inspire others to live true to their unique and beautiful nature.
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Thanks for hosting!
ReplyDeleteVery interesting cover! Thank you for sharing. Love discovering new authors.
ReplyDeleteThanks for you interest in my new book! I’d love for you to come along with me on a winding and unexpected journey that will make you think about your moxie, and maybe give you an ‘ah ha’ about your mojo for new adventures and precarious quests.
DeleteWanda St. Hilaire
Thanks for hosting my book on the tour! Unfortunately Google wouldn't accept my comments yesterday. Hope you get a chance to take a peek inside Fragments of French.
ReplyDeleteWanda St. Hilaire
Sounds wonderful!
ReplyDeleteWhat was your inspiration for this book?
ReplyDeleteThanks Tashia! The book is memoir and based on my experience years ago firstly, on a solo trip to Portugal. I met a Frenchman and fell in love. Subsequently, we rendezvoused in Canada, then France, and I ended up in Mexico! It’s quite the tale.
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