Birth of a Novel
Ona’s Tears is dedicated to my ancestors who left their mark on my soul and to those who hope for a better world. November 1st, All Saints Day, was the official launch date. Timing is everything.
On All Souls Day Sunday, our Pastor gave a marvelous sermon about how we live our lives. After we recited the Creed, I read the Intercessions. One parishioner died on Halloween and was moved from the “prayers for” list to the remembrance of the dead. I read the names submitted for Souls we wanted to remember, those who passed since November 2, 2024 and the recently deceased. I wanted to add the Souls I was remembering, but the service would have gone way past our time tolerance. Plus, I had a box of books in my car in memory of them.
Last week, I left you with thoughts of good and bad Halloween witches. Since October 31st landed on a Friday this year, I joined my ancestors at the Lithuanian Hall where my parents met. They were children of immigrants who had one foot in two different worlds much like the children of immigrants today.
The Hall I write about in my book was located in a house replaced by a Zips cleaners operating off of Washington Blvd. The “opening ceremony of the new Lithuanian Hall took place on the 17th of February, 1921 and events for that occasion continued all month.” During my childhood it was the place for funeral lunches and there were many.
As a 100% Lithuanian, I became a lifetime member of the Hall for $25. At my age, a social club is a way to ensure I see like minded people who greet me like family. Many of the new Lithuanian immigrants I meet come to the Hall for some of the same reasons my late grandparents did. Many go back in the summer to visit family left behind. The Hall is closed from Memorial Day to Labor Day.
October 31st turned out to be a fortuitous event. A group of Lithuanian High School Accordion playing students gave a concert at 8:00 PM. My favorite waitress surprised me with a hug and was the second person to buy a signed copy of my book. The first was a Ukrainian family.
I stayed for the concert but left before the 10:00 pm costume contest. Our extremely creative bartender was dressed as a cat run over by a car with theater quality face makeup, tire track across her back and a tail that was “admired” by a patron who realized his faux pas as soon as it left his mouth. She shared her foil rectangle litter box filled with Grape-nuts and delicious little logs.
One of the very articulate accordion players sat next to me at the bar. He was born after Lithuania regained its independence in 1990. Lithuania still has a long way to go. The post occupation poverty is high, health of older generations was compromised and the suicide “rates in Lithuania are among the highest in the European Union… older people are particularly affected by problems such as loneliness.” As a child of a free country on the path to resilience, he gave me hope.
When I conceived the book, I had no idea I would give birth to a cautionary tale for today. Ona’s Tears is a story of loss and resilience backed by research of Tsarist Russia and Baltimore immigration. I hope you consider reading it and telling me what you think.



This is so exciting, Judy! I can’t wait to read Ona’s Tears!