THE SUMMER OF LETTING GO - Karma or Coincidence? Countdown (Carole Estby Dagg)

If you've read this intro already, please feel free to skip straight down to Carole's post.

As some of you may know, THE SUMMER OF LETTING GO, my second novel for young adults comes out March 25th from Algonquin Young Readers.

THE SUMMER OF LETTING GO tells the story of almost-16-yr-old Francesca “Beans” “Frankie” Schnell who, four years ago witnessed her baby brother, Simon, drown. Guilty and broken, Francesca has hunkered down in the shadows of her life, resolved to play second fiddle to her dead brother’s memory and to her best friend Lisette, a blonde bubbly beauty Francesca lives vicariously through. That is, until she meets a young boy named Frankie Sky who bears an uncanny resemblance to her brother. Frankie brings humor and hope to Francesca’s life, but are all the similarities between Frankie and Simon merely wishful coincidences, or could he be Simon’s reincarnation?

Curious coincidences abound in THE SUMMER OF LETTING GO —not only the overlaps between Simon and Frankie Sky, but also Bradley’s gift to Francesca, Bradley’s bird sighting, and the ties to the statue of  Saint Florian (you'll have to read to know what these are ;)). Midway through the story Francesca starts to think these events can’t really be coincidences, “but something bigger and magical at work.”

Have you ever experienced strange events that seemed like more than coincidence and made you wonder if fate was at work or that soul and or reincarnation exist?

Throughout the month, I've decided to pose that question to friends, some writers, others bearing other artistic talents, for a brief account of their own experience with karma, kismet or a mystical connection. I leave you to answer the question, “Random or something magical at work?” 

I hope you find these stories as intriguing and lovely as I do.

- gae

Fellow Class of 2K11 cohort and amazing storyteller, Carole Estby Dagg, tells this story she calls:

Meant to Be

Back in 1950, when I was six years old, my Aunt Thelma convinced a nun to allow me into the room of my dying Great-aunt Clara. I don’t remember much from that long ago, but I do remember tip-toeing down the hall of Sacred Heart Hospital in the wake of the nun’s softly swishing habit, hoping we wouldn’t get caught. Clara was white on white: white hair on white pillowcase, pale face above white sheet, and a body so thin it hardly raised a bump under the blanket. She was sleeping, so I couldn’t talk to her. I just looked and remembered. 

Sixty-one years later, at the launch of my book THE YEAR WE WERE FAMOUS 

about Great-aunt Clara’s 4,000-mile walk across the country with her mother, I told my cousins about my last visit to Clara. I thought I’d hear how they had also been smuggled in to see Clara one last time.

“But children weren’t allowed on patient floors back in 1950,” one said.

“None of the rest of us got to see her,” another said.

We all got goose bumps. Clara’s own records of the walk had been burned. It’s as if Aunt Thelma knew that someday I would be the one to tell Clara’s story for her so I should have a clear memory of her.

- Carole


Please check out THE YEAR WE WERE FAMOUS, and pre-order your copy of THE SUMMER OF LETTING GO, today, especially from your favorite Indie Bookseller or brick & mortar store.