SJ Rozan

Some of you have been following the absurdity of my sister being fired from her library job for “insubordination,” one element of which was that she brought the service dog puppy she was raising in to the library on her day off. The current situation is in her letter here. Thought you might like to know, especially those of you in the Philadelphia area.

Dear Friends,

This letter is to bring you up to date on my complaint against the Haverford Township Free Library.

As many of you know, the Haverford Township Free Library refused to let me and Henry, the puppy I was raising to become a service dog, visit the library. As a puppy raiser I was required to take Henry to public places so that he would become familiar with these varied environments for his future service dog work. The Library takes the position that a puppy-in training like Henry, and a puppy raiser like me, are not protected by the Pennsylvania Human Relations Act. I have challenged that position, and the Pennsylvania Human Relations Commission legal staff has agreed with me, issuing a detailed decision finding probable cause to credit my claim that the Library unlawfully discriminated against me. I feel that it is important to clarify the law to enable puppies-in-training, along with their puppy raisers, to enter “public accommodations” like libraries, restaurants, subways and buses. Without such exposure and socialization, the puppies are certain to fail as service dogs.

Since the incident almost two years ago, I have approached the library several times in writing, as well as at a Conciliation meeting facilitated by the PA Human Relations Commission, and most recently during the first set of depositions this past April 23 where we offered a consent order, making every effort to avoid a public hearing. The PA human relations Commission was willing to clarify the role of puppy raisers, and the puppies in training with them, as protected classes. The name of the library did not appear in the consent order. Haverford Township Free Library rejected the consent order and offered no counter proposal.

The next step is to proceed to a public hearing before one or more representatives of the Pennsylvania Human Relations Commission. The Commission lawyer feels that the case is so important that he will be sitting as “second chair” at the hearing with my lawyer. In the meantime, both the Library and I will have an opportunity to conduct discovery, including taking depositions, to determine the other side’s positions and the reasons for them.

The Public Hearing is August 12 & 13 with expert witnesses from HERODOGS and NORTH STAR DOGS. I would encourage any and all to attend and please do forward this email to anyone you feel might be interested.

Deborah Rosan

Thought you’d like these, from last week’s trip to New Orleans. A few more on Flickr, just click on any of these.

The old Walgreen’s (still a Walgreen’s)

Balconies in the French Quarter

Street light on Sunday morning

Remains of last night

Come to Jesus

Extraordinary foosball game in an antique store

And of course, the beignets

The SKIN OF THE WOLF giveaway contest has been won by (ta-da) Nancy Gazo and Victoria Carlson. Well done! The rest of you, keep reading, you never know when we here at SJR HQ might get inspired to do another one…

Fast-moving clouds slide

Wispy gauze past thick cotton

Hinting at pale blue.

Pawlonia blooms

Lavender on ancient limbs

Pale against pearl sky.

Oak tree is dark green,

Maple’s emerald, pine’s ice,

Grass is smooth chartreuse.

(If you need more, there is a book.)

Black barge slips downstream.

Chugging tug is far ahead

Fighting the current.

Cawing gull swoops down,

Knocks another off piling,

Settles, glares around.

Sparrows search for crumbs.

Muffins remains cause for joy.

Flock comes to breakfast.

(How come no one told me I forgot to post these? Sorry, it was a hectic two weeks.)

Getting off the subway and heading into Grand Central this morning, encountered a guy sitting on a milk crate. “I’m homeless and unemployed right now and I could really use your help. I’m homeless and unemployed right now and I could really use your help.” Same words, same delivery each time. I stop to refill my Metrocard. Subway passengers disappear into Grand Central. Guy goes silent. New crowd of people surges out of Grand Central headed for subway. Guy starts up. “I could really use a bagel! Hey, anyone help me out to get a bagel? I could really use a bagel! Hey, anyone help me out to get a bagel?” I turn, wondering what accounts for this sudden change in text and mood. Can’t tell, but I think it’s funny so I give him a buck. I head into Grand Central through the doors the subway-bound crowd is coming out of. Then I get it: right on the other side of that door is the hot bagel place. The crowd going in that direction will have just passed those yummy hot-bread smells when he hits them up for money for a bagel. The crowd going in the other direction will be tourists or commuters, more likely to take pity on an unemployed guy. A good performer knows his audience. I love New York.

(Don’t forget the contest!)

As you no doubt know, and if you don’t, you do now, Sam Cabot, who is me and Carlos Dews, has a new book coming out in August. Yes, he/we does/do. SKIN OF THE WOLF is a paranormal novel set in NYC, involving art, Native Americans, rich people, and a brutal murder at Sotheby’s. Oh, and vampires, known as Noantri, whom you may have met in Sam’s BLOOD OF THE LAMB. Plus… Others.

Now, if you haven’t read BLOOD OF THE LAMB yet, how come? But lucky you, it’ll be out in paperback in July, so you can catch up before you read SKIN OF THE WOLF.

Maybe.

Or maybe you can read SKIN OF THE WOLF right now.

In honor of the upcoming launch we here at SJR HQ are having a contest. In fact, three contests. With two winners each. The prizes will be ARCs — Advance Reader’s Copies, for those of you who don’t speak jargon — and a little math reveals that that means we have half a dozen ARCs to give out.

So here’s the deal: there’s a photo here, and one on my Facebook personal page, and one on my Facebook author page. (To enter on the author page you have to hit “Like” if you haven’t already.) The photos are different. You can enter all three places and you can enter as many times as you like. How do you enter? You caption the photographs. The vast staff here at SJR HQ will pick two winners for each photo based on criteria only we understand, or maybe we don’t. The winners get ARCs, and all you need to do is promise to review it once you’ve read it. On Goodreads, on Amazon, on your own blog, wherever good reviews are sold. Got it? Go to!

I’m teaching for a week here in Cedar Valley, near West Bend, Wisconsin. This is a 100-acre campus of green lawns and woods, a pond with a little bridge, lots of birds and flowers. It rents itself out for retreats like this, or for the weaving retreat coming later in the season, but generally the events here are religious in nature. There’s a chapel, a mediation room where I’m sitting writing right now — essentially a square gazebo, screened on all sides — and walking paths. Tidy gardens and flower borders bloom and naturalized pansies poke randomly through the pea gravel near the lodge, a phenomenon I’ve never seen before. All very bucolic and lovely, and conducive to contemplating the mysteries of the universe.

Except the place is studded with wind chimes. One of the mysteries of the universe, if you ask me, is why people like wind chimes. I hate them. I’m trying to listen to the songs of the birds, to the wind in the trees, to the silence itself, and my contemplative listening keeps being interrupted by ding-a-ling ding-a-ling. What’s the deal? Why would I need tinkling metal to cut into the rare-enough-in-this-world sounds of nature? They’re intrusive and annoying. I hate them in the city, too, by the way, where one doesn’t really need another noise. Am I so wrong? How do you guys feel?

Thursday through Sunday, New Orleans and the 2,000 person electric-energy high-decibel zoo that’s the Romantic Times Convention. Breakfast dates, lunch dates, coffee dates, dinner dates. Panels, meetings, events. Beignets and roast oysters and red beans with rice.

Now, West Bend, Wisconsin, teaching at a writer’s workshop. A total of a dozen people including the other profs at a retreat house on 100 acres in farm country. Birch trees, a pond, and chickadees. Morning class, afternoon consults. Boiled eggs, ham sandwiches, and chicken with broccoli.

Life is change…

I know, food photos. But I just had to.

Accompanied by cafe au lait in the garden at the Cafe Beignet on a bright Sunday morning.

(JL, this is for you.)