For appearances (related to GOOD BOY, dogs & gender): Christine Mykithyshyn at Macmillan Publicity:)

For appearances (related to She’s Not There, Long Black Veil, She’s Not There, I’m Looking Through You,  Stuck in the Middle With You, Long Black Veil, and/or other gender, human rights & education issues:)
Kathryn Santora at Penguin Random House:

For press inquires:
Kris Dahl at ICM

To contact Jenny directly:

I Saw Three Ships

I Saw Three Ships
December 28, 2016 Jennifer Boylan

15622662_10210385046918580_6375232326389155507_nEarly Christmas morning I saw deedie and the dogs out the window as the sun rose over the lake. And I pointed my camera out the kitchen window like this, and went Click.


President Obama told us, the day after the election, “The sun will rise.” And of course it has, and does.

I’m here in the Maine house having Christmas with my family, feeling lucky. But I know from reading other folks’ feeds exactly how hard holidays are for so many of my friends.

I hope that the light that shines on me will shine on everyone in days to come.

I’ll spare everyone my sense of faith. Let’s just say I think we should all love each other, and forgive one another. And yeah, I think those are about the hardest things to be asked to do, ever.

Deedie gave me a gold chain for Xmas, which I am now wearing. And warm socks and warm shirts and the Houghton Mifflin Best American Short Stories 2016.

I sang a few songs today. I jammed Do You Hear What I Hear into Cold Rain and Snow. I sang Arthur McBride and the Recruiting Sergeant (“I’ll cut off your head Christmas morning!”). I sang “happy Christmas/War is Over” and started to cry mid-chorus because I was thinking about a friend of mine who died this week, my surrogate father in law, David Busby. A man who liked to be in the center of a room quietly conducting the conversation with insight and with grace.

Later Seannie sat down at the keys and played “Comfortably Numb.”

I made a big-ass Xmas breakfast with scrapple and bacon and ham and fresh bread and minty potatoes I roasted yesterday and scrambled eggs. My sisters family FaceTimed us from England and I saw all my wonderful nephews and nieces now all adults. I took a long walk alone in the snow with the dogs, just looking at the cold quiet all around. The dogs paused before some tracks leading into the woods, but I pulled them back.

I wish I could stand between the people I know and love and all the hurt of the world. But I can’t. I can sing a few songs and make scrapple and try to be an instrument for the love of God. But sometimes I am just a big dufus.

My brother Todd Finney reminded me that the word for “Word” in Genesis also means “Story.” Which means that that book also might begin, “In the beginning was the Story.” If so, the story is still going on, and we are part of it. And some parts of this story are full of tears. And some parts are full of rising suns, young people singing songs, a quiet world with new snow, and hideous scrapple frying up in a skillet.

As I walked down our silent road, I heard a neighbor bang on the window and I looked over and he waved. I couldn’t hear him but I knew what he was saying.

Glory to god in the highest, and on earth, peace. Good will toward men. And women. And every one of you.