About Patty

Patty Enrado was born in Los Angeles and grew up in the Central Valley of California. She has an BA in English from the University of California at Davis and an MA from Syracuse University's Creative Writing Program. She lives in the San Francisco Bay Area. When she is not writing about health information technology, volunteering at her children's schools and raising her family, she is writing fiction and blogging about life after 50.

SFSU Asian-American Studies class: The kids are more than all right

Youth is happy because it has the capacity to see beauty. Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old.
– Franz Kafka, major 20th century Czech writer

Late at night throughout the years of writing my novel, A Village in the Fields, sometimes I would daydream or, more appropriately, I would “nightdream.” One of my fantasies was having my novel taught in an Asian-American Studies class. One of the PR campaigns that I undertook last month was to send a press release to the approximately 90 Asian-American/Ethnic Studies programs or departments in universities and colleges across the country. This was my first attempt at writing a press release, so I admit that I didn’t quite refine my message and present a distinct call to action, but I received a respectable 10 percent response rate.

Burk Hall, San Francisco State University, greets me!

Burk Hall, San Francisco State University, greets me!

All of the professors who responded – they ranged in departments from history, English, Asian American Studies, and Critical Culture, Gender and Race Studies – sent their congratulations. Professor Peter Kiang, director of the Asian American Studies Program at the University of Massachusetts commented that my novel is “very relevant” and another professor at Washington State University noted that he looked forward to reading it and perhaps teaching the book in next fall in his multicultural literature class.

I’m very fortunate to have the textbook director at San Francisco State University as a long-time friend – our kids went to elementary school together – and be such an enthusiastic supporter. Wendy Johnson put an advance copy in front of two Filipino-American professors at SFSU – Dr. Dawn Mabalon, associate professor of history, and Dr. Allyson Tintiangco-Cubales, associate professor of Asian-American Studies. One busy morning at work, Wendy texted me that Dr. Tingtiangco-Cubales was assigning my novel as part of the reading list for her AAS 352 Filipina/o American Literature, Art, and Culture class. The rest of the day was a happy blur.

Dr. Tintiangco-Cubales, whom I met at the Bold Step event in Delano over the Labor Day Weekend, invited me to attend her class in mid-September to give a reading and participate in a discussion/Q&A with her students, who are juniors and seniors. I can’t remember the last time I was around college students, but what a delight it was to be around so many bright, energetic and engaged, thoughtful, and passionate students!

After I was introduced and before I read, I asked the students if they would indulge me and let me take their picture. Then Dr. Tintiangco-Cubales told the students to raise their books for the picture.

After I was introduced and before I read, I asked the students if they would indulge me and let me take their picture. Then Dr. Tintiangco-Cubales told the students to raise their books for the picture.

I read the same excerpt as I did from my book launch party at Eastwind Books of Berkeley – two scenes a third of the way into the book in which my protagonist, Fausto Empleo, meets one of the Yemeni farm workers and befriends the Yemeni’s friends over dinner in their camp mess hall. Then we had a Q&A. At first, the students were shy, but soon the questions came out. I told the kids that it took 18 years from the time I began researching the novel to its coming out in print this year. One student asked why it took so long, and I let them know about getting rejected and not writing for three years, and trying to write while raising kids and having a full-time job. I think the students were two or three years old when I began my research!

Reading up close and personal.

Reading up close and personal.

The students were assigned a particular theme on the book and to elaborate on that theme, find supporting evidence of that theme in the book. One student, who had attended Bold Step, said that his theme was “risk.” He asked me what risk I took in writing the book. That required some thinking on my part, but then I told the class that initially I was afraid of “pissing people off” because some Cesar Chavez supporters would take exception to the tensions that existed between the Filipinos and the Mexican farm workers, which very few people outside of those who know the labor history are familiar with. Philip Vera Cruz’s memoir, Philip Vera Cruz: A Personal History of Filipino Immigrants and the Farmworkers Movement, by Craig Scharlin and Lilia V. Villanueva, was originally supposed to be published by the University of Washington Press but after pressure allegedly from Chavez supporters that the book was anti-Chavez, the press bowed out. Thankfully, University of California, Los Angeles Labor Center and UCLA Asian American Studies Center published the book in 1992. So I explained that I didn’t want to piss off Chavez supporters, but in the end the risk that I took was telling the story of facts and highlighting the Filipino-American contributions, which have largely been ignored or wiped out via revisionist history, without the intent of tarnishing Chavez’s image.

One student asked about the taxi-dance scene in the Los Angeles chapter, and commented that it sounded just like Carlos Bulosan’s scene in America is in the Heart. The last time I read Bulosan’s classic book was when I was a student at UC Davis, taking Asian-American Studies classes, more than 30 years ago. Did I lift from the scene? I’d have to go back and check, but I don’t think so. What happened in those taxi-dance halls offer common scenes that have been documented in such works as the 1985 documentary Dollar a Day, 10 Cents a Dance and short stories of Filipino immigrants in Bienvenido N. Santos’s collection, Scent of Apples.

Reading an excerpt in pano view.

Reading an excerpt in pano view.

After the class ended, students asked if I could sign their books. Of course! I was the one who was truly honored to talk one-on-one with the students and to sign their books. One student told me that the Yemeni farm worker excerpts were his favorite passages in the book and that he was happy that I had read it. What a wonderful instant connection that was for me! I understood what he meant! I felt the same way when I was at Jackson Browne’s concert at the Greek Theater in August and Browne introduced the song he was about to sing, “Sky Blue and Black,” as one of his favorite songs.

A female student who told me she was Arab thanked me for portraying positive Arab characters in my novel. She remarked that the only Arab characters she reads about are all negative because of 9/11. After reading my novel, she felt pride in her culture. I was very touched by what she said and so glad she shared that with me.

A poignant moment for me when this student told me she was happy to read a positive rendering of Arab characters in a book.

A poignant moment for me when this student told me she was happy to read a positive rendering of Arab characters in a book.

The student who let me know that he had attended Bold Step in Delano told me that he had posted a scene from my novel on his Facebook page, which goes to show that younger people do use Facebook. He said he has a particular issue with boy shaming and was happy that I dealt with the issue of weight in my character Arturo Junior, the little boy who grows up to become Fausto’s self-appointed nurse. The scene he was referring to involved Fausto trying to empower the boy in the face of taunting school children who teased him for being overweight and an English language learner. I based the character on an older classmate from elementary school who was overweight. He wasn’t picked on, but I let my imagination run away with Arturo Junior’s story. Again, I was glad that the student, who I think was named Tobin, shared that particular story with me. You never know the kinds of things that resonate with readers, things that you didn’t consciously write with those ideas in mind. But it was gratifying to know that there were instances of happy connectivity and communion.

Another student who is Ilocano and said it’s the first time she’s seen a book that uses Ilocano, as opposed to Tagalog, or Filipino, the national language. One male student told me that his surname is Abad whose family came from Ilocos Sur. He wondered if we might be related because I had told the class that relatives had told me I was distantly related to Fred Abad, the last manong at Agbayani Village, and that my father’s family hailed from San Esteban in the province of Ilocos Sur. The student’s revelation prompted me to personalize in his book: “We’re probably related!” And I’m sure we are because metaphorically speaking, we really are all related.

Happy, boisterous students greeted me after the class ended.

Happy, boisterous students greeted me after the class ended.

The students were assigned to create a “cognitive map” of my novel and turn them in. Nobody did, but when they do, I would love to see what exactly a cognitive map is and what the students created! I was so energized at the end of the evening that I didn’t even mind driving at night in the rain, finding my way back home. I thought of the student who shook my hand and congratulated me because he said it was a really good book. I felt the pride in the Filipino students because although we are the fastest-growing Asian-American community in California and in the US, we aren’t as well represented in literature as Chinese-Americans or Japanese-Americans, which is something that we as a community must change and should help to support one another.

Did this experience mirror my late-night fantasy of years ago? Yes, and more. As I experienced in Terra Bella and in Delano, sharing and discovering our Filipino-American culture is even more important to our community beyond my imagination. I hope the momentum continues to build. And to Dr. Tintiangco-Cubales and her amazing AAS 352 students: Maraming salamat po!

One more view of me reading an excerpt from my novel to the class.

One more view of me reading an excerpt from my novel to the class.

Long road to Delano: A Village in the Fields comes home

No history, no self; know history, know self. – José Rizal, Filipino patriot and national hero, physician, and man of letters

All these past months – a blur to me now – all came down to this Labor Day Weekend, the 50th Anniversary of the Delano Grape Strike. My novel, A Village in the Fields, came out the Friday before – no small feat. My publisher, Eastwind Books of Berkeley, and I worked hard the last five months to get the novel out in time for this historic event, Bold Step: A Celebration of the 50th Anniversary of the Delano Grape Strike. It was worth the sleep deprivation.

The Filipino Community Cultural Center of Delano, home of Bold Step: A Celebration of the 50th Anniversary of the Delano Grape Strike.

The Filipino Community Cultural Center of Delano, home of Bold Step: A Celebration of the 50th Anniversary of the Delano Grape Strike.

I’ll admit that I was a little apprehensive about the weekend because I’d spent most of those five months focused on editing, production, and then marketing and promotion activities. There was no moment of stepping back and enjoying the moment or thinking about the reception in Delano. As we packed up the van, which our friends Raissa and Mike lent us, with 20 boxes of my novel, I told myself I wouldn’t bring any work with me. I needed to decompress, enjoy the moment, and anticipate what I would say or do up on the stage during the open-mike evening and with anyone who came to our table to inquire about the book. As we drove down Interstate 5 in bumper-to-bumper traffic Friday early evening, I wondered whether I should practice reading the chosen excerpt or choose another passage. I was already stressed that we weren’t leaving when I had hoped to leave.

On Filipino time
If there is one overarching theme, it is that we were on Filipino time even before we left for Terra Bella/Porterville/Delano! I was looking forward to a leisurely dinner to celebrate my cousin Janet and her husband Tim’s anniversary. They ended up getting Mexican takeout and having it ready for us when we pulled up at 10:30pm. After dinner, Janet and I stayed up till past 1 in the morning catching up, even though David and I had to be in Delano before 10am on Saturday.

FANHS Delano Chapter president Alex Edillor welcoming everyone to Bold Step.

FANHS Delano Chapter president Alex Edillor welcoming everyone to Bold Step.

The festivities begin
We were late, but so were the festivities. The welcome and keynote address was held at the Filipino Community Center on Glenwood Street, which was a meeting place for Filipinos made historic during the grape strikes. Alex Edillor, president of the newly formed Delano chapter of the Filipino American National Historical Society (FANHS), welcomed the audience who hailed from cities and towns up and down the state. Other dignitaries included Paul Chavez, son of Cesar Chavez and president of the Chavez Foundation, the mayor of Delano, and keynote speaker, Rob Bonta, California State Assemblyman Rob Bonta of Alameda. Bonta is the first Filipino-American elected to the California legislature and author of AB123, which requires California schools to teach Filipino-American contributions to the farm labor movement in social science curriculum, and AB 7, which requires the Governor to proclaim Larry Itliong Day in California on his birthdate of October 25th and encourage public schools to teach about Itliong’s life and contributions to California.

State Assemblyman Rob Bonita giving the keynote address.

State Assemblyman Rob Bonta giving the keynote address.

From the Filipino Community Center, we set up shop at Robert F. Kennedy High School, along with other vendors at the campus food court for the lunch break. The dance troupe Kayamanan Ng Lahi, adorned in beautiful and colorful traditional dress, put on a wonderful performance, which included the tinikling and a dance to the classic Filipino love song, Dahil Sa Iyo.

A fancier tinikling dance than I'm used to seeing.

A fancier tinikling dance than I’m used to seeing.

Tinikling dance gets livelier.

Tinikling dance gets livelier.

During the lunch hour, we cultivated relevant contacts, including an executive committee member of the National Education Association who was a contemporary of the farm labor movement. I talked with Dr. Oliver Rosales, who teaches history at Bakersfield College and the University of California at Santa Barbara. He was part of a terrific panel, which included Dr. Dawn Mabalon of San Francisco State and Dr. Robyn Rodriguez of UC Davis – she read an advance copy of my novel and blurbed me. During that panel, Dr. Rosales emphasized that he wanted to include Filipino-American courses and materials to his teachings because his Filipino-American students were thirsty for more knowledge about their heritage.

Dr. Oliver Rosales.

Dr. Oliver Rosales.

Once the symposium started, everyone moved over to the learning center auditorium, which was across campus. I wanted to watch and listen, so David stayed behind, only to pack up shop in a little while because everyone had gone in. By this time, Janet and Tim and the kids joined us. It was really wonderful for Janet and Tim to be here with me and learn about the part of our Filipino American history that has been obscured for so long. The rest of the panels included a personal film by John Armington – a tribute to his immigrant father Bob Armington, a discussion of what had preceded and paved the way for the grape strikes, and historical legacies and new activism, the latter a necessity because sadly we still see exploitation and discrimination in the labor force.

Dr. Mabalon and Dr. Rodriguez on historical legacies.

Dr. Mabalon and Dr. Rodriguez on historical legacies.

A mom moment
At the evening event, a reception and open-mike, we were treated to young slam poets who impressed me with their mastery of their poems and the passion in their voice and their artistic ability to express their experiences as “other.” I read the first chapter of the novel when it was my turn. In retrospect, David and I agreed that I should have read a section from the strike, and that the first chapter is more in line with any other crowd. I wasn’t nervous, mostly because the event was outdoors and I couldn’t really see anyone’s face. I confess that I didn’t read the Ilocano sentences or phrases for obvious reasons; rather, I read them in English. I was already anxious about incorrectly pronouncing the word “manong” because I’d been pronouncing it a different way. (I want to call out and give thanks to my cousin Annie who explained to me that the accents change when you address someone using the term versus when you are referring to the group as a whole or using the historic reference to them.)

My first public reading from A Village in the Fields, Delano, Calif.

My first public reading from A Village in the Fields, Delano, Calif. Master of ceremonies Herb Delute kindly held the flashlight for me.

The next day, a few people who came up to the table and bought my book told me that they had listened to me at the open-mike event and said they were impressed and that I read very well. My ease is in part from having to do public speaking in my profession, which has been an invaluable experience. Also, through the years of working on this book, late at night, I would often read revised passages in my head or out loud and transform myself into an unabashed thespian. I was a little more restrained Saturday evening, but my heart was in it. The biggest thrill for me, however, was when I walked off the stage and Isabella and then Jacob came up and gave me a hug. Later, I found out that Jacob had posted on Instagram and wrote: “My mom, reading a part of her novel at the Filipino Community Cultural Center of Delano. Her novel came out yesterday. It took her a long time to accomplish her goal, and I’m so happy for her!” That was all the validation I needed at that moment and now.

Selfie with Marissa Aroy.

Selfie with Marissa Aroy.

I was honored to sit with Marissa Aroy during Saturday’s sessions and chat in-between the session breaks selling our respective DVDs and books. I met Professor Allyson Tintiangco-Cubales, who is using my novel in her Filipino/a American literature class this fall. I talked at length with Johnny Itliong, son of labor leader Larry Itliong. I connected with two Filipino-American librarians from San Jose Public Library, who were interested in a reading at the library. I gained more knowledge about the strike and unions of the past and of today from veteran labor leader Al Rojas. And I met wonderful people like Dale, a student from my alma mater UC Davis, who was just as thrilled as I was about the Aggie connection and the enthusiasm for my book. I’ll admit to enjoying my celebrity moments when people asked if they could have their picture taken with me.

Book signing!

Book signing with a smile!

We missed the luncheon at the Terra Bella Veterans Memorial Building for the 60th anniversary of the San Esteban Circle – and I missed catching up with my cousins and seeing other relatives. We were late to the dance, though we were able to see my cousin Annie and her mother, my Auntie Berta, who at age 93 was being honored for her work with the San Esteban Circle. She is not only a pioneer with the club, but she is the only one left of my father’s generation. We stopped by another cousin’s house to catch up with four more cousins, and we stayed up past midnight talking about Ilocano translations and the book.

Agbayani sign.

Agbayani sign.

The interior of Agbayani Village.

The interior of Agbayani Village.

After the Sunday events concluded, since we missed the bus tour of historic sites, we drove to Agbayani Village, which wasn’t that far away from RFK High School. Growth had indeed come to Delano because the last time I was here in 2004, Agbayani Village was isolated from the rest of the town. The village is still operational and clean and tidy; it is being rented out to retired farm workers. The kitchen and recreation room building was locked up, but we could peer inside and see the photographic displays still up for the tours. The garden, line of trees and cacti, goats in their pens, and vacant rabbit hutches, however, were gone. What stood was a vast empty field of cracked earth with a layer of powdery topsoil. I was sad to see that part of the village gone. But I was excited to share the village with Janet and Tim, and especially Jacob and Isabella.

Vineyards across the street from Agbayani Village.

Vineyards across the street from Agbayani Village.

As we walked through the village one last time and headed out through the main entryway, we came upon an elderly Filipino man who sat on a chair facing out. It seemed as if he was waiting for us, so we stopped to talk to him. His name was Edmundo. He told us he came to Agbayani Village in 1982. When we mentioned that Janet and I were related to Fred Abad, his face lit up. Fred was a good friend of his, and he said he was so happy to know that somebody else knew his good friend. He laughed and smiled and walked us out to the parking lot. That meeting touched my heart.

Resident Edmundo at Agbayani Village.

Resident Edmundo at Agbayani Village.

Because the Sunday afternoon sessions ran late, we were late getting back to Porterville. Our anniversary dinner out for Janet and Tim ended up at Super Burgers on Olive Avenue. We hurriedly ate and then David, Tim, and I headed back to the Veterans Memorial Building for the San Esteban Schools Alumni Association event, while Janet took the kids home. I sat with Annie and her mom. While we waited for my introduction, Annie and I surfed through her family photos, which she has been slowly digitizing. What a wonderful walk through nostalgia.

One of Annie's photos from the 1960s: roasting a pig in her family's backyard. I recognize many of my relatives here and recognize my dad's red sweater. He's holding onto me. I'm guessing the terror on my sister Joyce's and my face is from watching a pig being roasted. Vegetarian friends, look away!

One of Annie’s photos from the 1960s: roasting a pig in her family’s backyard. I recognize many of my relatives here and recognize my dad’s red sweater. He’s holding onto me. I’m guessing the terror on my sister Joyce’s and my face is from watching a pig being roasted. Vegetarian friends, look away!

Kudos go to my cousin Leila Eleccion Pereira: During the awards and recognition ceremony for the community’s student scholars, Leila presented my book to the top scholar, who was attending UC San Diego and wanted to become a pediatrician. She gave a brief introduction and had me come up to address the audience. I talked about my mom and dad, the backstory to the novel, and how I wanted to learn more about our history and contributions to the farm labor movement and share that not only with our community but the global community. When I told everyone that our young generation needs to learn about and embrace their history, I was heartened to see some of the students nodding their heads – such a satisfying moment for me. We sold many books, and I give Leila all the credit for her introduction, her enthusiasm, her pride.

My cousin Leila and me.

My cousin Leila and me.

Addressing the audience: telling them about the book's origins, dedicating the novel to my parents and our community, and waxing poetic about remembering and honoring our history.

Addressing the audience: telling them about the book’s origins, dedicating the novel to my parents and our community, and waxing poetic about remembering and honoring our history.

I was touched by the request by two moms who wanted to take a picture of me with her sons, who were holding up my book. Two college students, one a recent graduate from UCLA, the other still at Loma Linda University, bought a book. We chatted for a bit, and they understood the need to remember our history, which made me hopeful for the next generation’s convictions. We left as the evening concluded and retired to Porterville, the last of our Delano activities for the weekend. Wanting to capture more cousin time, Janet and I stayed up again.

Author hawking my book at RFK High School.

Author hawking my book at RFK High School.

The best way to cap the long weekend, which seemed to zoom by, was to have a leisurely breakfast with Janet and Tim and our cousin Debi, who played her guitar and entertained us with all of these wonderful stories from our childhood and from her incredibly rich and complex life. As we left, knowing that we left late and will encounter bumper-to-bumper traffic when we hit the Bay area, I made a note that we’d connect again so I could write down her stories. We made plans to get the cousins together to compare photographs, share stories, and talk about a San Esteban Circle archiving project. So much to do. So much history back home. And overall, so much to be grateful for.

Towering cypress trees at Agbayani Village.

Towering cypress trees at Agbayani Village.

Sunset over Agbayani Village.

Sunset over Agbayani Village. Most of these photos courtesy of David Rossi.

They are here, I am here

Some books leave us free and some books make us free.
– Ralph Waldo Emerson, American essayist, lecturer, poet, and leader of the Transcendentalist movement in the mid-19th century

Late this afternoon I was at Eastwind Books of Berkeley because my books had arrived. I was in a fog as I held the book in my hands and then opened to the title page to sign the pre-ordered books. The book had some weight to it, which surprised me. The galleys, of course, were in paperback, and light in the hand, but I was still amazed by the book’s heft. Maybe I was just in a daze period. After 18 years, after a grueling eight-month editing/production process, after never imagining I would be in this position when 2015 arrived, and after feeling as if I was going to miss the 50th Anniversary of the Delano Grape Strike altogether, I am finally here.

And tomorrow late afternoon, we journey to Delano for reading, signing, communing, and meeting new friends.

Fresh out of the box.

Fresh out of the box.

Finished signing the pre-ordered books for good friends, translators, family friends, relatives, and even Oregon State University's Ethnic Studies Program - #GoBeavers!

Finished signing the pre-ordered books for good friends, translators, family friends, relatives, and even Oregon State University’s Ethnic Studies Program – #GoBeavers!

The End of summer: a reflection, a pictorial

August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time.
– Sylvia Plath

On Monday school starts. I need to catch my breath. How is it that summer is over already? After our trip to Italy in June, I was trying to find my easy pace of summer, my groove. It was not to be this year. As soon as we came home we prepared for our traditional Fourth of July visit with my cousin and her husband Tim (aka Timbuktu), which includes the Oakland A’s fireworks game, City of El Cerrito Fourth of July celebration at Cerrito Vista Park, Fourth of July feast, Alameda Flea Market, and lots of science experiments, board games, catching up, and sometimes we sneak in a hike.

Tim, Janet, and me at the Oakland A's fireworks game. Tim took pleasure in entertained us by photo-bombing the group of women in front of us.

Tim, Janet, and me at the Oakland A’s fireworks game. Tim took pleasure in entertaining us by photo-bombing the group of women in the row in front of us.

The A's lost - again - but at least the fireworks were fun!

The A’s lost – again – but at least the fireworks were fun!

We all agreed that this Fourth of July's fireworks show was the best we've seen in four years.

We all agreed that this Fourth of July’s fireworks show was the best we’ve seen in our four-year tradition.

One of the things Janet and I love to do while at the El Cerrito Fourth of July festivities is to buy a necklace from our favorite Himalayan Jewelry guy. And check out other artisan goods. These earrings are by Moon and Leaf.

One of the things Janet and I love to do while at the El Cerrito Fourth of July festivities is to buy a necklace from our favorite Himalayan Jewelry guy. And check out other artisan goods. These earrings are by Moon and Leaf.

Talented jewelry designer and Harding Elementary School mom Kristen Satzman of Moon & Leaf.

Enjoying a conversation with talented jewelry designer and Harding Elementary School mom Kristen Satzman of Moon & Leaf. You can see more of her work at http://kristinsatzman.com/moonandleaf/

Salmon and steak, potatoes and salad, and the fresh corn that Janet and Tim brought up from the Central Valley for our Fourth of July feast.

Salmon and steak, potatoes and salad, and the fresh corn that Janet and Tim brought up from the Central Valley for our Fourth of July feast.

Up bright and early for a Girls' Day at the Alameda Flea Market - our group selfie with the San Francisco skyline in the background.

Up bright and early Sunday morning for a Girls’ Day at the Alameda Flea Market – our group selfie with the San Francisco skyline and Golden Gate Bridge in the background.

Beautiful 1920s French marcasite necklace from Gypsy Road Studio, which happens to match well with the marcasite earrings from Firenze.

Beautiful 1920s French marcasite necklace from Gypsy Road Studio, which happens to match well with the marcasite earrings from Firenze.

In the summertime, Janet and I love looking at lawn art. For old-time San Francisco Giants fans - See the crazy crab.

In the summertime, Janet and I love looking at lawn art. For old-time San Francisco Giants fans – See the crazy crab.

I'm forgetting this Oakland artisan, but I loved the poems and adages burned into various found wood objects. One of my favorites - a poem by Pablo Neruda, one of my favorite poets, whom I studied while at Syracuse University.

I’m forgetting this Oakland artisan, but I loved the poems and adages burned into wood, stone, and other found objects. I immediately gravitated to this poem by Pablo Neruda, one of my favorite poets, whom I studied while at Syracuse University.

Then after they left – such a short visit this time around – we offered our home to a French exchange student for three weeks. All the while, I was trying to edit my manuscript, and then proof and go through the production phase of the book. The month of July, I think I averaged 3-4 hours of sleep. Wait, that’s normal. At any rate, every evening and weekend was filled with reading the manuscript over and over and over again. While trying to entertain our exchange student.

Isabella and I took our exchange student for a day-long walk along the Embarcadero. At Pier 27, we chanced upon a free concert by the San Francisco Symphony - lovely!

On a beautiful Sunday in July, Isabella and I took our exchange student for a day-long walk along the Embarcadero. At Pier 27, we chanced upon a free concert by the San Francisco Symphony – lovely!

Sunday brunch at Butterfly Restaurant at Pier 33. California-Asian fusion and a nice view of the Bay.

Sunday brunch at Butterfly Restaurant at Pier 33. California-Asian fusion and a nice view of the Bay.

We rarely venture to Pier 39, but I forget how spectacular the views can be, so long as you look outward!

We rarely venture to Pier 39, but I forget how spectacular the views can be, so long as you look outward!

The end-of-our-walk view of the San Francisco piers....

The end-of-our-walk view of the San Francisco piers….

And in the midst of our hosting duties, I flew out to Portland for a week for my company’s annual sales meeting in mid-July. Every time I come to Portland, I fall in love all over again. I had to edit/proof in the evenings while there, but I really enjoyed spending time with my colleagues since I only see most of them twice a year.

Downtown Portland - my view from my temporary office at my company's headquarters.

Downtown Portland – my view from my temporary office at my company’s headquarters.

Lunch outside at the The Portland Regency with my colleagues.

Lunch outside at the The Portland Regency with my colleagues.

The courtyard of my boutique hotel - the Portland Harbor Hotel.

The courtyard of my boutique hotel – the Portland Harbor Hotel.

On the menu? Of course.

On the menu? Of course.

Our company took in a Portland Sea Dogs game at Hadlock Fields. The Sea Dawgs are the Red Sox's AA team. They played the farm team of the Yankees. Classic.

Our company took in a Portland Sea Dogs game at Hadlock Fields. The Sea Dawgs are the Red Sox’s AA team. They played the farm team of the Yankees. Classic.

Normally I go to baseball games to watch the game, but I had too much fun catching up with my colleagues. Here, with Eric and Cathleen.

Normally I go to baseball games to watch the game, but I had too much fun catching up with my colleagues. Here, with Eric and Cathleen. And this is after my third hot dog! Yup, I was hungry.

One street down from my hotel, I found a true gelato place - Gorgeous Gelato!

One street down from my hotel, I found a true gelato place – Gorgeous Gelato!

I had to go to one of my favorite shops in downtown Portland - Waterlily.

I had to go to one of my favorite shops in downtown Portland – Waterlily.

The earrings on the left are made by sisters in Thailand. I had gotten a pair by them a few years ago at Waterlily. Thanks for Fay, we walked into Edgecomb Potters on the waterfront. This collective features artisans from around the country. The earrings on the left are made from vintage watch parts. I chose this very Art Deco pair.

The earrings on the right were made by two sisters from Thailand. I had gotten a pair crafted by them a few years ago at Waterlily. Thanks to Fay, we walked into Edgecomb Potters on the waterfront. This collective features artisans from around the country. The earrings on the left are made from vintage watch parts. I chose this very Art Deco pair.

More seafood, please. On the outdoor deck on the waterfront at the Porthole Restaurant and Pub.

More seafood and fresh greens, please. On the outdoor deck on the waterfront at the Porthole Restaurant and Pub.

Dinner at the Flatbread with Jack, Fay, and Mia. One last view.

Dinner at the Flatbread with Jack, Fay, and Mia. One last view.

Upon my return home, it was back to editing and proofing. My publisher Eastwind Books of Berkeley and I were a week late with getting everything to the printer. You would think that a great weight would have been lifted once Harvey, my publisher, said, no more comma deletions; we are done and you can’t touch it anymore. But all that stress over typos, commas, widows and orphan lines still resided in my upper back. One morning in August, I awoke to chest pains and after talking it over with David, we decided to be safe and head to the ER. Thankfully, at 7am on a Thursday, I was the only one who walked into the ER waiting room. No risk factors. All tests came back negative. I went home in a record two hours and yes, came back with peace of mind and stern warnings from the ER doctor and my NP and physical therapist that I need more hours of sleep. Well, okay.

The day of my ER visit, the kids, on their own initiative, made dinner and a wine cake for me. In fact, Isabella made my lunches on the weekends while I was hunched over my laptop editing. Yes, I am filled with gratitude.

The day of my ER visit, the kids, on their own initiative, made dinner and a wine cake for me. In fact, Isabella made my lunches on the weekends while I was hunched over my laptop editing. Yes, I am filled with gratitude.

After the production process, however, I dove into the marketing/promotion tasks that need to be done. So I’m immersed in that right now. Press releases. Press release list upon list upon list. Creation of postcards and posters. Approval of ads. FB author page. Twitter handle (gulp). Author website. Reaching out to academics in labor, history, Asian-American disciplines with a little help from a history professor at the University of Maryland. Scheduling reading events. Networking. It’s all exhilarating, empowering, and validating! But hard to do when you have to do it all after hours.

My friend Wendy Johnson and I attended the Stand Up for Books Comedy Night, a fundraiser for my publisher's bookstore, Eastwind Books of Berkeley (landlord raised the rent - boo-hiss) at the Oakland Asian Cultural Center.

My friend Wendy Johnson and I attended the Stand Up for Books Comedy Night, a fundraiser for my publisher’s bookstore, Eastwind Books of Berkeley (landlord raised the rent – boo-hiss) at the Oakland Asian Cultural Center. And you didn’t have to be Asian-American to appreciate the jokes, I think….

Yup, I dragged David to the Jackson Browne concert at the Greek Theatre in August. I bribed him with beer while I had wine. The last time we were at the Greek Theatre? Twenty years ago when we saw the Counting Crows with our friends John (and best man) and Tracy!

Yup, I dragged David to the Jackson Browne concert at the Greek Theatre in August. I bribed him with beer while I had wine. The last time we were at the Greek Theatre? Twenty years ago when we saw the Counting Crows with our friends John (and best man) and Tracy!

I was thrilled when Jackson Browne introduced his heartbreaking song Sky Blue & Black by saying that it was one of his favorite songs. Me too!

I was thrilled when Jackson Browne introduced his heartbreaking song Sky Blue & Black by saying that it was one of his favorite songs. Me too! His latest CD is very political, a call to environmentalism. The title song, Standing in the Breach, is about rebulding a school in Port-au-Prince in Haiti after their devastating earthquake. Browne was very proud to be a part of this school, which he says educates 2,500 students every year for free. Yup, respect him in bunches.

We managed to have some fun, though. But now school is staring me in the face. Time to be co-chair of the high school’s Investing in Academic Excellence. Lunafest 2015-2016 season will be commencing soon. Work will start getting busier. And my book comes out September 4th, with readings and events, and more marketing and promotions.

We are winding down with our season tickets for the very painful Oakland A's season. A weeknight game with the Dodgers' Kershaw on the mound versus another pitcher called up from the minors. We went. When our hapless bullpen blew a 1-1 tie in the top of the 8th, we hesitated but still stayed. First walk-off win, 5-4, in 10 innings. Nice way to end the summer - Country Breakfast (aka Mr. Double Play) getting a pie and Gatorade. My first win since Opening Day. I know, pathetic. Back to the right-field bleachers next year! Still love the summer classic.

We are winding down with our season tickets for the very painful Oakland A’s season. A weeknight game with the Dodgers’ Kershaw on the mound versus another pitcher called up from the minors. We went with great trepidation. When our hapless bullpen blew a 1-1 tie in the top of the 8th, a common occurrence this year, we hesitated but still stayed. We were rewarded: First walk-off win, 5-4, in 10 innings. Nice way to end the summer – Country Breakfast (aka Mr. Double Play) getting a pie and Gatorade. My first win since Opening Day. I know, pathetic. Back to the right-field bleachers next year! Still love the summer classic.

But would I want it any other way? Heck no. But I will miss this summer. What a memorable time we had.

The last gasp from the garden. Is this truly the last bouquet of August, of summer?

The last gasp from the garden. Is this truly the last bouquet of August, of summer?

The summer garden expires

The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color. Often at night there is lightning, but it quivers all alone.
– Natalie Babbitt, American author, from Tuck Everlasting

The day before we left for Italy, I made a bouquet for my cousin Daniel for a mid-June brunch date with my sister.

The day before we left for Italy, I made a bouquet for my cousin Daniel for a mid-June brunch date with my sister.

In August, one hardly expects a garden to expire, to be withered and barren of not only flowers but buds that are already blackened or dried. Taking a look at my garden, especially the side yard, one would think that we are in late September instead of the middle of August. Yes, the drought has impacted our trees and our garden.

When we came back from Italy, I was able to make bouquets for delivery before the 4th of July. The garden was looking great!

When we came back from Italy, I was able to make bouquets for delivery before the 4th of July. The garden was looking great!

The dahlias were big and beautiful.

The dahlias were big and beautiful.

The blooms were healthy, though the plants were noticeably not producing as much as in past years.

The blooms were healthy, though the plants were noticeably not producing as much as in past years.

In better times, over the summer, you wouldn’t be able to see the neighbor’s duplex from our row of windows in the family room because the magnolia trees would be thick with leaves. But sadly, you can see the dirty-white plaster walls. Yes, the drought is to blame, but I also planted some 20 new dahlia plants in late spring and only two plants gave me a bloom each. Surely, I would have expected them to produce and not be affected by the years of drought.

July bouquet: normally the gladiolas are done by June, but the strange weather has thrown even the plants off their normal  growing patterns.

July bouquet: normally the gladiolas are done by June, but the strange weather has thrown the plants off of their normal growing patterns.

One of my favorite dahlias had a very short season this summer. I'm glad I have a photo to remember that it even bloomed this summer.

One of my favorite dahlias had a very short season this summer. I’m glad I have a photo to remember that it even bloomed this summer.

This dahlia, too, had a short season. Normally an early-blooming dahlia, it didn't last more than a month.

This dahlia, too, had a short season. Normally an early-blooming dahlia, it didn’t last more than a month.

In my copious free time (not!), I tried to snip off the brown and black leaves to encourage the new growth that I was happily seeing on the dahlia plants. But while some are coming back and producing shiny, healthy green leaves, at some point the buds are mysteriously turning black. I can’t figure out what is happening, as this has never happened in all the years we’ve been at our home  – dating back since 1995  – 20 years!

The July bouquets still looking full.

This July bouquet was a stretch.

Beautiful pink dahlia surrounded by blue flowers and healthy-looking ferns.

Beautiful pink dahlia surrounded by blue flowers and healthy-looking ferns.

Toward the end of the surprising gladiola season.

Toward the end of the surprising gladiola season.

Each week, I wondered if I would be able to eek out two bouquets for the El Cerrito High School and Korematsu Middle School’s auction winners. The blooms got smaller, which, of course, impacted the size of the bouquets. This past week, I was lucky enough to make one small bouquet. Maybe the garden has reached the end of its season, ignoring the calendar, the mild summer with practically zero days of fog, which would have been perfect for the dahlias all season long.

The last full bouquet in late July.

The last full bouquet in late July.

Thank goodness for my neighbor's pink succulent plant to add height to the last bouquets!

Thank goodness for my neighbor’s pink succulent plant to add height to the last bouquets!

Winding down....

Winding down….

Still, I’m encouraged by the new growth of the dianthus or carnation plants. Some of the dahlias are struggling valiantly to stave off powdery mildew and keep its buds healthy. Maybe, in keeping with our strange weather and garden patterns, the flowers have it in them to push through for one last bloom. A late summer, early autumn garden.

Last week's last attempt and putting together two bouquets in the same week.

Last week’s last attempt at putting together two bouquets in the same week.

The last bloom for this dahlia.

The last bloom for this dahlia.

Wouldn’t that be something. I remain as hopeful as spring, even as I myself stave off my mourning. The last of this, the last of that. Perhaps not.

The last bouquet of the summer for the Korematsu auction winner? Stay tuned.

Is this the last bouquet of the summer for the Korematsu auction winner? Stay tuned.

My author website is live – www.pattyenrado.com

Books are the plane, and the train, and the road. They are the destination, and the journey. They are home.
– Anna Quindlen, from How Reading Changed My Life

My author photo for my book jacket. My mom's group moms have joked that it is a "fierce" look. Photo credit to the fabulously gifted Robert Milton. Thank you, Robert!

My author photo for my book jacket. The moms in my mom’s group have joked that it is a “fierce” look, which is punctuated by my black leather jacket. Yup. Photo credit to the fabulously gifted Robert Milton. Thank you, Robert!

My last post was from our last day of our Italian holiday – more than a month ago. So much has happened since then. I still haven’t caught my breath, but it’s time to get up to speed on what’s been happening with my novel.

When we came back from Italy, I hit the ground running with endless edits and proofing. I’m still not done yet, but Monday, August 10th, is my day of reckoning. The bound galley comes in and it’s my last chance to make any changes. I think I’ve read my novel about eight times in the span of five weeks.

At any rate, all the while, I had been working with a web designer to build my author website. I’m excited to say that I launched it this past week and announced it on Facebook to some great accolades from my FB friends. I created my Facebook author page, although I haven’t had time to build it out beyond creating it.

So, without further ado, I present my author website – www.pattyenrado.com. Let me know what you think of it!

My novel ships from the printer August 28th, with arrival to Eastwind Books of Berkeley on September 2nd, just in time to bring with me to Bold Step: the 50th Anniversary of the Delano Grape Strike event over Labor Day Weekend. I’ll be doing a reading that Saturday evening, September 5th, at the Filipino Community Hall in Delano, and I’ll also be manning a table for my book. Check out my website for more information and events.