Dear Virginia, Wait for Me: A Novel
Autor Marcia Butleren Limba Engleză Paperback – 19 iun 2025
Peppa continues flourish and her confidence grows as those around her recognize and admire her analytical prowess. Then, when her relationship with her parents and the plumber becomes untenable due to a devastating betrayal, Peppa succumbs to her mental fragilities and suffers a collapse. With the help of her kindhearted boss, his eccentric client, and the voice of Virginia, Peppa recovers. And on one crisp and clear autumn morning she considers a path to reconciliation.
For those who loved Where'd You Go, Bernadette, The Remedy for Love, or And Then We Came to The End, this is a sensitive coming-of-age novel of a fragile yet brilliant young woman who, like Virginia Woolf, is determined to carve her unique path in life.
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Specificații
ISBN-13: 9781771684088
ISBN-10: 1771684089
Pagini: 272
Dimensiuni: 152 x 229 x 25 mm
Greutate: 0.26 kg
Editura: Central Avenue Publishing
Colecția Central Avenue
ISBN-10: 1771684089
Pagini: 272
Dimensiuni: 152 x 229 x 25 mm
Greutate: 0.26 kg
Editura: Central Avenue Publishing
Colecția Central Avenue
Notă biografică
Marcia Butler is a former professional oboist, interior designer, filmmaker, acclaimed memoirist, and author of two novels. Her third novel, Dear Virginia, Wait for Me, was inspired by the notion that everyone has conversations going on in their head. This can be slightly irritating, quite annoying, or in the case of mental illness, the voices often take control and destroy a person’s entire life. What would happen if a young girl relied on the benevolent voice in her head to guide her, and what if that voice was Virginia Woolf? After many decades in New York City, Marcia now makes her home in New Mexico.
Extras
Somebody Will Marry You
Peppa Ryan swiveled around for the third time looking for something, anything, familiar. She’d stood at this exact intersection just two weeks before, but now it seemed a bewildering mishmash of commercial real estate, bus exhaust, and people. To her left, a couple of geezers side-stepped an overflowing garbage can in front of a packed Off-Track Betting parlor. To her right a Chinese laundry gave off a feint odor of Perc and next to it, a deli specializing in everything bagels added a strong layer of yeast. The Family Dollar store, already open, and a Chase Bank, still closed, stood directly across the street. But Peppa remembered none of this. To make matters worse, she was sleep deprived and anxious and this combination always produced an uncomfortable sensation of a need for food and her ongoing resolve to avoid it.
She looked across the street and spied a Queens-bound bus approaching. Now it occurred to her that she really could ditch all of this, an idea she’d been toying with throughout a fitful night of sleep and then the pre-dawn bus ride to Brooklyn. She could race across the street, catch the return bus, and go back home. Become an official no-show. Anyway, what could they do to her? But then she smelled falafels and suddenly remembered the halal cart that had been parked near the building she was currently looking for. She followed her nose and rounded a corner. There was the food cart with an impressive cluster of customers already lined up despite the early morning hour. And just across the street she saw the circles stacked horizontally across the façade of the Flatbush Avenue subway, including the red one with the number three in white. Peppa decided this was a good omen.
She slid her new monthly MetroCard through the turnstile and skittered down multiple stairways toward the train that would eventually deposit her in the Wall Street area of Manhattan. Just as she hit the platform the number three slowed into the station. With dozens ahead of her, Peppa decided to go for it and shouldered her way through while garnering more than a few daggered looks. “Sure, honey. Whatever you need,” one disgruntled man muttered, his arm sweeping a grand gesture toward the train door. Peppa skulked ahead of him and stepped into the car. She’d already endured the almost hour-long bus ride from Sandy Point, so the timing of the subway was something of a miracle. Yes, part of that omen. And really, if she was actually going to go through with this job thing, arriving late was not an option.
As the train gained speed, she made a motion to switch standing places with the sarcastic man. Her idea was to give them both more room, but he didn’t seem to appreciate, or even understand, her intention.
“Sure, sweety. Take allll the space you need.”
Once they swapped, she grabbed hold of an overhead pole and scanned the packed train. Some sipped coffee while reading the paper. A few nodded off. One woman wept quietly. But the majority stared into space, looking anywhere but directly into another’s face. Peppa thought about this—all these people squished within an inch of one another yet behaving as if they were completely alone. It struck her as a peculiar example of mass delusion.
Actually, kind of a joke and she couldn’t help but chuckle out loud which prompted the man to look up from the New York Post he’d buried his nose in.
“You think this is funny?”
She shrugged and pursed her lips, determined not to respond. But when Peppa considered the approaching day and all that it portended, the guy had a point. Nothing at all was funny. In fact, this day, of all days, felt as treacherous as walking down a heavy wooden plank suspended off the tip of a flimsy canoe in the middle of a faraway ocean. Peppa was about to plunge into day number one of her very first job.
You will, in all likelihood, do well.
Oh, thank goodness, Peppa thought. The voice was always with her, piping up with encouragement at moments when she was fearful or nudging when she doubted herself. She imagined a middle-aged woman with long hair fashioned into a bun at the nape of her neck. A thin nose and slightly sad eyes. Very kind, yet at times quite insistent. Just like a good and true best friend would be. And Peppa wanted to believe that, yes, it was possible she’d do well.
Peppa Ryan swiveled around for the third time looking for something, anything, familiar. She’d stood at this exact intersection just two weeks before, but now it seemed a bewildering mishmash of commercial real estate, bus exhaust, and people. To her left, a couple of geezers side-stepped an overflowing garbage can in front of a packed Off-Track Betting parlor. To her right a Chinese laundry gave off a feint odor of Perc and next to it, a deli specializing in everything bagels added a strong layer of yeast. The Family Dollar store, already open, and a Chase Bank, still closed, stood directly across the street. But Peppa remembered none of this. To make matters worse, she was sleep deprived and anxious and this combination always produced an uncomfortable sensation of a need for food and her ongoing resolve to avoid it.
She looked across the street and spied a Queens-bound bus approaching. Now it occurred to her that she really could ditch all of this, an idea she’d been toying with throughout a fitful night of sleep and then the pre-dawn bus ride to Brooklyn. She could race across the street, catch the return bus, and go back home. Become an official no-show. Anyway, what could they do to her? But then she smelled falafels and suddenly remembered the halal cart that had been parked near the building she was currently looking for. She followed her nose and rounded a corner. There was the food cart with an impressive cluster of customers already lined up despite the early morning hour. And just across the street she saw the circles stacked horizontally across the façade of the Flatbush Avenue subway, including the red one with the number three in white. Peppa decided this was a good omen.
She slid her new monthly MetroCard through the turnstile and skittered down multiple stairways toward the train that would eventually deposit her in the Wall Street area of Manhattan. Just as she hit the platform the number three slowed into the station. With dozens ahead of her, Peppa decided to go for it and shouldered her way through while garnering more than a few daggered looks. “Sure, honey. Whatever you need,” one disgruntled man muttered, his arm sweeping a grand gesture toward the train door. Peppa skulked ahead of him and stepped into the car. She’d already endured the almost hour-long bus ride from Sandy Point, so the timing of the subway was something of a miracle. Yes, part of that omen. And really, if she was actually going to go through with this job thing, arriving late was not an option.
As the train gained speed, she made a motion to switch standing places with the sarcastic man. Her idea was to give them both more room, but he didn’t seem to appreciate, or even understand, her intention.
“Sure, sweety. Take allll the space you need.”
Once they swapped, she grabbed hold of an overhead pole and scanned the packed train. Some sipped coffee while reading the paper. A few nodded off. One woman wept quietly. But the majority stared into space, looking anywhere but directly into another’s face. Peppa thought about this—all these people squished within an inch of one another yet behaving as if they were completely alone. It struck her as a peculiar example of mass delusion.
Actually, kind of a joke and she couldn’t help but chuckle out loud which prompted the man to look up from the New York Post he’d buried his nose in.
“You think this is funny?”
She shrugged and pursed her lips, determined not to respond. But when Peppa considered the approaching day and all that it portended, the guy had a point. Nothing at all was funny. In fact, this day, of all days, felt as treacherous as walking down a heavy wooden plank suspended off the tip of a flimsy canoe in the middle of a faraway ocean. Peppa was about to plunge into day number one of her very first job.
You will, in all likelihood, do well.
Oh, thank goodness, Peppa thought. The voice was always with her, piping up with encouragement at moments when she was fearful or nudging when she doubted herself. She imagined a middle-aged woman with long hair fashioned into a bun at the nape of her neck. A thin nose and slightly sad eyes. Very kind, yet at times quite insistent. Just like a good and true best friend would be. And Peppa wanted to believe that, yes, it was possible she’d do well.
Recenzii
"Full of wit, charm, and its fair share of everything bagels, Marcia Butler's moving book manages to be a warm and generous New York novel while grappling with the ghosts of childhood trauma, lost literary heroes, and societal definitions of "madness". Her protagonist believes she's being guided by the voice of Virginia Woolf, but it is Butler's voice — comforting and astute, alive to the music of kindness as well as betrayal — that holds you to the end." — Jonathan Lee, author of High Dive and The Great Mistake
"What does it mean to hear voices? Dear Virginia, Wait for Me is an original, poignant, and, yes, playful novel that deals with mental health, hidden supports, and the joys of love and abiding friendship. A vibrant book full of charms and surprises." — Joan Silber, author of Secrets of Happiness and Improvement
"Sometimes, all I want is to be immersed in a world in which the heroine embraces her own quirky brilliance while learning to accept help and love, and, in doing so, redefines family as a way of finding home. Enter Marcia Butler’s Dear Virginia, Wait For Me, a compelling, sweet, surprising novel with the unworldly and wise Peppa Ryan as its beating heart. I read it in just two sittings, rushing to know how it ends but wishing it would just keep going." — Lori Ostlund, author of Are You Happy? and After the Parade
"As a book populated by those you would gladly share any given evening with, this story would happily grace the time spent. Protagonist Peppa Ryan finds friendship in a way she never could have planned, or even imagined. Better yet, as someone who has never been truly heard, she listens to an inner voice both known and mysterious, and it becomes the key to her very survival. This wonderful novel has changed how, who and what I listen to. May it be that book for you." — Gil Gross, broadcast journalist, CBS News
"Cinematic and evocative, Dear Virginia, Wait For Me explores the serendipity in unexpected, life-altering friendships. With empathy and wit, Marcia Butler introduces us to characters that are simultaneously quirky and relatable, and an expansive New York City ripe with opportunity. Butler's page-turning prose compels us to explore the power of humor and hope in the face of despair." — Keren Blankfeld, author of Lovers in Auschwitz
"Enchanting and evocative; every young woman who has struggled to find her true voice in a changing world will see herself in Peppa Ryan." — Jessica Handler, author of The Magnetic Girl
"What does it mean to hear voices? Dear Virginia, Wait for Me is an original, poignant, and, yes, playful novel that deals with mental health, hidden supports, and the joys of love and abiding friendship. A vibrant book full of charms and surprises." — Joan Silber, author of Secrets of Happiness and Improvement
"Sometimes, all I want is to be immersed in a world in which the heroine embraces her own quirky brilliance while learning to accept help and love, and, in doing so, redefines family as a way of finding home. Enter Marcia Butler’s Dear Virginia, Wait For Me, a compelling, sweet, surprising novel with the unworldly and wise Peppa Ryan as its beating heart. I read it in just two sittings, rushing to know how it ends but wishing it would just keep going." — Lori Ostlund, author of Are You Happy? and After the Parade
"As a book populated by those you would gladly share any given evening with, this story would happily grace the time spent. Protagonist Peppa Ryan finds friendship in a way she never could have planned, or even imagined. Better yet, as someone who has never been truly heard, she listens to an inner voice both known and mysterious, and it becomes the key to her very survival. This wonderful novel has changed how, who and what I listen to. May it be that book for you." — Gil Gross, broadcast journalist, CBS News
"Cinematic and evocative, Dear Virginia, Wait For Me explores the serendipity in unexpected, life-altering friendships. With empathy and wit, Marcia Butler introduces us to characters that are simultaneously quirky and relatable, and an expansive New York City ripe with opportunity. Butler's page-turning prose compels us to explore the power of humor and hope in the face of despair." — Keren Blankfeld, author of Lovers in Auschwitz
"Enchanting and evocative; every young woman who has struggled to find her true voice in a changing world will see herself in Peppa Ryan." — Jessica Handler, author of The Magnetic Girl
Descriere
A sensitive portrait of a vulnerable yet resilient young woman who, with the help of an inner voice and newfound friends, attempts to find her way at the turn-of-the-millennium Manhattan.