Hi, Dear Readers—
Yes, Under An Indiana Sky is out in the world—and thank you so much to all of you who have already ordered it! —but I have a different story to tell you today. I’m just back Provincetown now, the farthest tip of Cape Cod, the gorgeous and quirky fishing village/artist colony sliver of land’s end surrounded 
by water on three sides. You might remember that I retreat there every fall to write—and to plan my next year’s work. We emerged from the Nor’easter you doubtless heard about on the news and entered glorious cool sunlight. The town is my heart’s home, East Coast born and bred as I am.
Colorful, tolerant, music wafting in the streets, cafés, art galleries: much to feed the spirit here. I have wonderful, much-loved friends who live there year-round, too.
So, a week ago, I was walking up Commercial Street on my way to the post office. An attractive woman—maybe late twenties? —stepped out right in front of me.
“May I give you a free sample of our moisturizing face cream?”
Being no dummy, I heard the word free, and immediately said, “Sure.” (Believe me, I had a lifetime supply of moisturizer that I brought with me, but hey, a girl can always use more, right?)
That was my first mistake because, hearing that, she instantly invaded my personal space and scrutinized my face from about three inches away. “Oh honey,” she said, her eyes scrunching up with concern and compassion over the tragedy she saw. “Your body just isn’t making collagen anymore, is it sweetheart?” She shook her head, clearly grieving. I swear I saw a tear hovering on her lower lid. “It’s bad, so bad, no collagen.”
I am about to reveal what an idiot I can be. This was her actual message and it was sparkling clear: Oh my god. You are so f-ing old. They allowed you out without your aide? You’re so brave, you aren’t even using your walker? Oh honey. Those suitcases under your eyes. They haven’t been unpacked in twenty-five years, have they?
“Give me your hand,” she said. She reached down and snatched my left hand. Inspected it. “Ooooh, your hand is cold.”
“Well, it’s 46 degrees out here, I’m freezing, and I’m not going to buy any…”
She cut me off, keeping my hand in a death grip. Like a magician, she whipped out a tube of something, put a pea sized amount of it on the back of my hand, and, more magic, produced a Q tip which she rubbed into the stuff. Then she looked at me with that infinite compassion people summon up for the elderly infirm lingering pathetically on death’s doorway and said, tenderly, “Sweetheart, I can help you! I will help the no collagen. Are you ready for time to move backward, my honey? Close your eyes. Time will fly backward now!”
(The message: Sweetie, if anyone ever needed time to move backward, it’s you. I mean, have you consulted a mirror in the past twenty years? Sweet lord, I am sooooo sad for you. Do you even remember how f-ing old you are or is your mind as gone as your collagen?)
Kindly remember, she was holding my hand captive, and my purse was in my other hand, but yes, I can be and in this case, I clearly was, a flaming idiot: all of a sudden, she was applying the stuff on the Q-Tip under my right eye. The idiot part—I failed to use any of the moves from that great self-defense karate video I once watched ten years ago.
“You’re not going to believe this! It’s already working!” she exclaimed. “Oh my god, what a difference!” I noticed she didn’t let go of my hand when I tried to take a step backward, although when I finally gave a mammoth tug and she ended up fighting for balance, she let go—when her alternative was to do a face plant on the sidewalk. The skin under my right eye had begun to feel as if superglue had been applied.
She recovered her balance and gaily scurried toward the storefront, gesturing and urging me. “Come on, come, you must see in the mirror! Such a difference!! So much better! Oh my god! You won’t believe this! You have to see it. Come now! You have to!”
Ah. She used exactly the wrong word. Do not tell me I have to do something. That will never work with Lynne. Wrong word. She really needed an editor.
I shook my head. “I don’t want it,” I said and walked on at warp speed, babbling how I had to be at the post office.
“Okay, you have to come see in the mirror on the way back. Don’t touch it! Time is rolling back for you!” (The post office was a half block from her lair; I immediately decided to sneak out the back of the post office to the water side and wade through the storm swollen tide back to my apartment.)
That morning I told the story to a quite unwrinkled dear friend who lives there. He, it turned out, had been similarly accosted, and she’d used the same script. This actually made me feel better. He and I decided we’d
team up and approach her with a tiny dixie cup with about an ounce of wine in it. We’d tell her we have great news and because she’d been soooo good to us, we were going to share a sample with her for free, no less. We’d discovered an antiaging formula even better than hers. You drink it and totally stop caring about wrinkles–or alternatively, just rub it on your skin and use this excellent anti-aging secret: to effectively obscure any wrinkles, take whatever fine cream you invest in and smear it all over your bathroom mirror.
I so hope you’ll find Under An Indiana Sky a meaningful read. It’s a story about addiction, set in rural Indiana in 2013, but, of course, it could be set almost anywhere else. The novel follows two families whose lives intersect around Angie and Brock, a young romantically involved couple, each spiraling into opioid addiction. As warning signs are ignored and the truth explodes, the people around them most affected retreat into anger, guilt, and blame. Can they come together and forgive? Join in a search for redemption and justice?
I hope you’ll let me know what you think of it! I think everyone knows someone whose life has been touched by addiction.
Please say anything you’d like in the comment section just below!
Jeepers, the noive of some people!
You are so so right! I finally found some kind of varnish remover that took the stuff off my face.
Such a wonderfully captivating book!!!
I am so grateful that you found it such a good read—thank you so much for posting that reaction! And thank you for being so supportive. It means a lot.
Wow! So glad you’re ok! I imagine you calmed your nerves and had a few laughs creating a brilliant payback scheme. Of course, I LOVED the video photos!
Congratulations on Under an Indiana Sky.
And remember- you do NOT need collagen! Love to a beautiful author and friend.
Thank you! Yes, once I was back “home,” it was pretty funny!–AFTER I figured out how to get the stuff off my face! I thought it was going to require steel wool…
Sadly, these hyped up young predators descend on our town in season to make a fast buck, and they are totally obnoxious. Do they think that Commercial Street is Macy’s? They certainly are not townspeople. I am so sorry you had that experience.
Congratulations on your next book. I am so sorry I missed seeing you when you were here. Hopefully next year
Honestly, Elizabeth, I ended up thinking it was hilarious. Yes, obnoxious, but still really funny, and of course, I know Provincetown well, and that the predator isn’t a local. But I’m glad you pointed it out for the readers here! I should have. Thanks for the congrats–the novel is getting such a good reception I’m really happy to say. And yes, 2027–and it’s coming so soon!
Wow Lynn. Glad you escaped having only to use varnish remover! Your book has just arrived and I can’t wait to read it.
Thank you so much, Mary Jane! I’m really grateful. Yes, the stuff finally came off my face with the varnish remover and a little steel wool…
Good for you, Lynne! I also do not appreciate being told I “have” to do something. And I’m glad to know the new book is out; now I can bug the guy at Copperfield’s Book Store, who promised he would order it and let me know when it was in.
Thank you, Gale! I hope your bookstore has it waiting for you now! It’s definitely available, having published on the 13th! And I hope you’ll let me know your reactions. Yes, you’re right–you and I don’t react well to being told what we have to do. In retrospect, the whole thing was pretty funny. Hope you liked the picture reel at the bottom of the post; I remember you once wished you could make it across the country to see the outer Cape.
Dear Lynne, yesterday afternoon, last thing before I turned off the computer here at the OCAC, I read your delightful blog about your skin cream adventure in Provincetown (and loved the video of life there!). I got in the car, turned on the radio–NPR, All Things Considered–and the first story I hear is this one: https://www.npr.org/2026/10/14/nx-s1-5992778/how-one-network-of-mall-skincare-stores-targeted-vulnerable-people-across-the-u-s
………….
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Excerpt, in case the link to the whole transcript doesn’t work (bold emphasis added):
SCOTT DETROW, HOST:
If you have ever walked into a mall, you may have had this experience – a young, attractive person walking up and trying to hand you a free sample. Today’s story starts with that harmless gesture. But for some people, what followed cost them thousands. Monika Evstatieva and Caley Fox Shannon of NPR Investigations spent the past year talking to these customers, visiting stores and digging through consumer complaints. Here is what they found.
MONIKA EVSTATIEVA, BYLINE: Suzann Roberts was walking out of the Apple store at a mall in Ann Arbor, Michigan, when a guy approached her and handed her a sample of face cream.
SUZANN ROBERTS: He just put it in my hand. And he was so charming. And I ended up walking in there. And the whole time, I’m thinking, what are you doing?
……………
Coincidence? Serendipity? Widespread collagen-depletion syndrome from coast to coast?
In case you missed it, thought you might get a kick out of the echoing. Sante
What a coincidence! I apparently saved myself “thousands of dollars.” I only disagree here with characterizing the approach as “walking up and trying to hand you a sample.” I’m sticking with my story about my salesperson. She practically knocked me over! There was no “trying” to hand me a sample about it. But as I’ve said, in retrospect, it was actually pretty funny for me to see how dumb I was!
I love your sense of humor and the way you paint a picture! Looking forward to seeing you when you get to Florida.
Thank you so much, Sherry! Looking forward to seeing you, too!
“Time is rolling back for you!”
I love this–so funny. I could hear your voice. Thanks for the lovely P-town pictures. I miss that place!
Thank you so much! I’d say that chick got under my skin, but clearly she actually got on top of it…
I’m so glad you like the pictures.