Many of my readers are aware that from May through the end of September, I was focused on writing Before the Trail Goes Cold. I answered emails, yes, and I read my three morning comics, but my on-line activity was severely limited. Then on September 21, I received a remarkable email from someone I didn’t know, a woman named Mallina Wilson.

Back in 2004, she had attended one of my book presentations in Bellingham. According to my book history, that was probably during the tour for Exit Wounds. When I do speaking engagements, I don’t use a prepared speech. I do speeches the same way I write books—by the seat of my pants. By talking rather than reading from a book or a script, I can see what’s going on with the audience. If people are nodding off, I know I’m in big trouble. If my words are resonating with attendees, I can see that, too.

After the Bellingham event, Mallina had sent me a snail-mail letter (yes, snail-mail was still the only game in town back then!) telling me that she had been at the event and had been extremely moved by it. I didn’t know her, but I remembered that, during the talk, one of the people in the audience had been quietly weeping most of the time.

What Mallina sent in that September email was a photo she had taken of my long-ago response. In it I said that I had noticed during the event that she had really been moved by what I was saying and suggested that, although I had no idea what the issue was, if she tried putting it all down on paper, it might help.

Guess what? She took that advice to heart, and the resulting book, All in a MOMent, will be published October 27. She sent me a review copy, but I didn’t try reading it until AFTER I had sent my own corrected manuscript to my editors in New York.

In terms of reading preferences, memoirs have never been at the top of my list, but this one is remarkable. On the surface our lives are completely different. The granddaughter of Russian immigrants—a Dior model and a likely World War II spy, Mallina was raised by a smart but rebellious hippie mother, complete with rock concerts, sex, drugs, plenty of neglect, and with father-figures who came and went. She and her brothers lived in vans, station wagons, teepees, cabins without running water or electricity, and there were also times when they went without food. Her education was at best hit and miss. As an eleven-year-old she was shuffled off to stay with a grandmother she didn’t know who lived in Paris and who immediately enrolled her in a local school despite the fact that she knew no French.

I was raised in a stable family with parents who were happily married for 68 years. My father worked; my mother was a stay-at-home mom. No drugs or alcohol were present. I attended two schools in Bisbee, one for grade school and one for high school.

My childhood was stable. Mallina’s was complete chaos, and then it got worse. When Mallina was fifteen, her family situation was finally relatively stable and her mother was working as a waitress. Her mother went to visit her own mother, Mallina’s grandmother, who by then was living in Washington State. As her mom was leaving the house, she kissed Mallina on the head and said, “See you later.” Then she vanished, never to return. Two years later, when her mother’s remains were finally found and identified near what turned out to be the Green River Killer’s dump site, her mother’s death was tossed into the ugly category of prostitute along with his other victims and remained there for the next twenty years until it was finally determined she hadn’t belonged there in the first place.

As I read through the story, I was struck by Mallina’s strength, resilience, and determination. I was moved by this child who, in the face of adult neglect and foolishness, did her best to look after her younger brothers. I was also warmed by the occasional caring adults in her life—ones she called angels—who reached out and offered her kindness and understanding. And as I read her smoothly written prose, I couldn’t help but marvel at how a person whose education had been so sketchy could write with such meaningful grace.

Despite our differences, there were also plenty of things we had in common. Her account of being molested by a family “friend” was, unfortunately, all too familiar. With me it was a near relative, but the problem was the same—that of knowing instinctively that what had happened was shameful and wrong but not having the words to explain it to someone else.

I finished reading the book late at night. The next morning I sat down and spent three hours writing a long letter about how much many aspects of her story had resonated with me. It’s also why I’m writing about it now. I believe All in a MOMent is an important book and will serve as a beacon of hope for people who have struggled through similarly difficult and/or neglectful childhoods. It’ll also be familiar territory for people who have struggled with their own alcohol or drug addiction problems or with those of a loved one.

Mallina’s story is proof positive that there really is light at the end of the tunnel.

All in a MOMent goes on sale October 27, which happens to be my birthday. Now that book tours are pretty much a thing of the past, people who want signed copies of books have limited options. For me, The Poisoned Pen in Scottsdale (info@poisonedpen.com) and Brick and Mortar Books in Redmond, WA (info@brickandmortarbooks.com) have both been real life-savers in that regard. Poisoned Pen will have signed books only. Customers at Brick & Mortar can order a book, say how they want it inscribed, and the store holds it until such time as I can come in and sign it. My understanding is that they’ll do the same thing for Mallina’s book.

I don’t do comments on Amazon, but I believe this would count as a five-star review. This book really spoke to me, and I believe it’ll do the same for others.