Q&A with Tabitha Bailey, Standing Up by Mary L. Devine

Your memoir takes readers through harrowing experiences of domestic violence. What made you decide to share your story so openly?

I never set out to write Standing Up so openly. The story took on a life of its own, evolving into something far different from what I initially envisioned. At first, I wrote to heal, but shame and fear of judgment kept me from telling the full truth. As I considered publishing, I softened the details, hesitant to expose the raw reality of what I felt I had let happen.

For years, I struggled to shape my story, setting it aside again and again. But as I revisited my past—examining the abuse, how it unfolded, and the emotions I experienced—I realized that what I felt most wasn’t sadness or pain, but accomplishment. I had survived. I refused to see myself as a victim, and I didn’t want others to see me that way either. The story changed, and with it, my purpose.

I no longer wrote just for myself—I wrote for the women still trapped in the cycle of abuse, the ones who feel powerless, afraid, and alone. My goal became clear: to help them see their own strength, to encourage them to take even the smallest step—toward the door, toward freedom, toward a future where they are in control. I know how overwhelming that first step can feel. But once I glimpsed the possibility of something better, that hope became my driving force.

Looking back, what were some of the key moments that helped you realize you needed to leave your abuser?

Over a few years, he slowly cut me off from the people who mattered most. He convinced me to quit my job to help with his business, sold my car so I couldn’t go anywhere without him, and moved us over an hour away from my family and friends. Little by little, he took away my independence until I felt completely trapped.

What finally pushed me to leave? Angels—real ones, here on earth. After one especially violent attack, where he injured my eye and left a deep cut between them, he carried me into the emergency room. That’s where I met Sarah, my first earthly angel. She convinced me to let her call my brother, Russ—my second angel. That phone call was the first real step toward getting out, even though I didn’t fully realize it at the time. Looking back, it was the moment everything started to change.

You describe discovering a reservoir of resilience within yourself—what were some of the biggest factors that helped you survive and heal?

Accepting help was a huge obstacle for me. I was ashamed to need it and dreaded having to explain why.

My next angel was my favorite, funny Aunt Ruth. She was diagnosed with cancer around the same time I found myself homeless, and I moved in with her for the final six months of her life. Helping her helped me. As I spent those last months by her side, I started to feel more in control of my own life. She taught me about living, even as she was dying.

When she passed, she left me what she called “money for karate classes so I could defend myself in my next relationship.” By then, I had started recognizing those angel moments, so when I began hearing commercials on the radio for martial arts training, I took it as a sign and signed up. I became physically stronger and, more importantly, regained my confidence.

Your second marriage brought new challenges, despite initial hope. How did your past experiences shape how you approached those difficulties?

I still hadn’t taken a hard look at my role in the struggles of my first marriage, so I made plenty of mistakes in my second.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have much experience with addiction—aside from what I had learned from my first husband, and that was short-lived. My second husband was great at hiding it, so I had no idea he had fallen off the wagon as early as he did.

By the time it became painfully obvious, he had already been arrested. I was in my final year of college, working toward a degree in criminal justice, while he was headed in the opposite direction. I wasn’t willing to accept the lies, the infidelity, or keep making excuses for him. And when I was done, I was done.

What inspired you to become a detective, especially in the domestic violence unit?

I met Mary Friswell at the martial arts studio. She was incredibly talented—she had even earned a wildcard spot for the Barcelona Olympics. Everyone respected her, including the male competitors, who practically revered her.

Mary was also a police officer, and when I shared my story with her about how I ended up there, she took me under her wing. One night, she invited me on a ride-along while she was on patrol. I was hooked the moment our first call turned out to be a domestic complaint.

How did your personal history influence the way you approached cases? Did it make the work more difficult, or did it give you a unique sense of purpose?

My past experiences gave me a unique advantage. I understood the challenges from a victim’s perspective and had a different way of framing potential solutions. I also faced the same frustrations as my coworkers when victims refused to file charges or show up in court. But one thing I would never ask was, “Why don’t you just leave?”

It’s never that simple. But unless the abuser and victim seek professional help, leaving is often the only real solution. I understood that many victims were financially dependent on their partners, had children to consider, and were emotionally drained from years of abuse. The weight of it all made leaving feel impossible.

With every victim I spoke to, I planted seeds of hope—the one thing they were missing. Ironically, hope is also what keeps many victims stuck. They hope things will go back to how they were in the beginning, before the abuse. They convince themselves it’s just the circumstances—money struggles, family stress, or even their own fault. I shouldn’t have…

I made sure they knew they weren’t alone. I connected them with victim advocates, safe housing options, financial aid, and other resources to help them take that first step toward leaving a violent relationship.

When you encountered a case that mirrored your own experience, how did you navigate the emotional and professional challenges?

When I was assaulted, I didn’t know I was pregnant. I was only about seven or eight weeks along, and because of the attack, lost the baby. It was a devastating time. So when I met the victim who was my age, and learned her boyfriend had dragged her off the couch, shoved her against the wall, and choked her my stomach lurched. Our experience was eerily similar. She lost her baby, too.

When I heard the details of her case, I felt queezy. I sat across from her, sweating through the entire interview, reliving my experience. But what really got to me was that she didn’t want him prosecuted—even though this was the second child he’d killed this way. I felt so many emotions at once: anger at her, frustration at the system, shame for not pursuing justice when I had the chance in my own situation.

During that time, running became my escape and it helped me stay grounded through the tough times. I ran my way through it, burning through a couple of pairs of running shoes, trying to outrun the demons until the day of trial.

In the end, he took a plea deal—Abuse of a Pregnant Female, a felony. The prosecution was relieved, since she refused to testify against him, but I wasn’t. Two babies had died at his hands, and his sentence was 18 months in prison and a year of supervised release. And then? They’d be back together.

I watched her as she left the courtroom. She didn’t look relieved. She looked tired—completely drained. And I knew that look too well. I had worn it myself more times than I could count. It was the face of someone who had fought battle after battle and had nothing left to give.

That’s when my anger faded, and my heart went out to her. I bit my lip, feeling something I hadn’t expected: compassion.

How do you think law enforcement and society, in general, can better support victims of domestic violence?

That’s the million dollar question. Abuse hides in the dark. Shine a light on it for what it is—cowardly. Abusers don’t usually pick fights with their bosses, neighbors, or coworkers. They choose their wives and partners—people they see as easy targets – a sure thing. Stop blaming the victims and start holding abusers accountable for their actions. 

Domestic violence is cyclical. Abusers are often exposed to violence in their own homes, which teaches children how to behave—whether to submit or to become abusers themselves. More programs are needed to stop abuse at its source: the abusers. Teaching anger management and conflict resolution skills at a young age can help reduce the number of kids who grow up to use their fists, guns, or words to hurt the people they love.

Writing a memoir about trauma can be emotionally exhausting. What was the hardest part of putting your story on paper?

The shame of allowing it to happen to me – of having to admit that I stayed when I ‘should have’ left. Being honest leaves you wide open to ridicule. I condidered keeping some parts out of it, because it was embarassing and I struggled with the question, “Does it really need to be in there?” Some people will be hurt when they read my book, but there are amazing life savers in it, too, and both stories deserve to be told. 

What do you hope readers—both survivors and those unfamiliar with domestic violence—take away from Standing Up?

One in three women and one in five men will experience abuse in their lifetime, and nearly everyone knows someone who has been affected. If you or someone you love has been a victim, the most important thing you can do is start the conversation with compassion. Ask gentle, open-ended questions, and let the conversation unfold naturally. Be mindful of your own emotional limits—only take in what you’re able to handle, and remember, the victim should never have to comfort you.

Educate yourself about domestic violence. Learn about the services available so you can offer informed support. If you’re unsure whether what you’re experiencing is abuse, I’ve included a self-assessment guide at the back of this book that may help. You’ll also find resource pages with numerous support options for people from all walks of life.

No one should have to face abuse alone. Help begins with understanding, and change starts with compassion.

This is no longer just my story—it belongs to every woman who has been told she’s not strong enough, who has been made to believe she has no way out. You do. And when you take that first step, no matter how small, you are already standing up.

About Standing Up by Mary L. Devine:

For true-crime fans, a gripping memoir of a domestic violence survivor who becomes a police detective in the domestic violence unit and is forced to face her demons when her first major case mirrors her own violent assault.

Standing Up invites you on an exhilarating journey with a woman who refuses to be defined by her scars. A pulse-pounding chronicle of survival against all odds, this memoir takes readers along on a plunge into the chilling depths of abusive relationships.

At the tender age of twenty-three, Mary Sweeney-Devine unwittingly stumbled into the clutches of her abuser, igniting anguish and despair. With each heart-wrenching trial, including a hospital visit, she unearthed a reservoir of resilience she didn’t know she possessed. But just when she thought she had weathered the storm, a second marriage to a recovering alcoholic unleashed a tempest of secrets and unforeseen challenges.

Yet Devine emerged from the darkness, fueled by an unyielding determination and a fierce spirit. With the help of unexpected allies, determination, and a sprinkling of humor, she navigated the treacherous terrain of her past—and reclaimed her life with courage. Offering hope to those ensnared in the vicious cycle of abuse, Standing Up is a riveting testament to Devine’s indomitable spirit and a gripping saga that will leave you breathlessly rooting for the victory of the human heart over adversity.

Buy on Amazon Kindle | Paperback | Bookshop.org

Q&A with PS Conway, Life Sucks: Memories and Introspections During the Great Covid Lockdown

What made you decide to document the lockdown in this way—through essays soaked in satire and cynicism?  

The lockdown didn’t feel like a chapter in a memoir. It felt like a fever dream that needed to be exorcised in real time. Essays soaked in satire and cynicism were my way of screaming into the void while hitting it in the face with a pie. The world had turned absurd, and writing straight wouldn’t cut it. I wasn’t trying to document history. I was trying to survive it with my sanity (mostly) intact. Satire gave me a pressure valve. My cynical voice gave me a shield. And together, they let me say the kinds of things I couldn’t admit in a grocery store, whispering “Rosebud” in the mango aisle, without getting arrested.

You describe your style as “literary comedic nihilism.” How did that voice evolve during the lockdown, and did it surprise even you?  

People have always told me I’m funny, sometimes a little childish, sometimes just absurd, but in the lockdown, literary comedic nihilism came out of nowhere like a late-night infomercial. I invented this new subgenre of Humor for the book because, honestly, there was no other way to make sense of what was happening. With LCN, you learn a little, laugh a lot, and then forget about it all - because it never really mattered anyway. It was the perfect fit for surviving a pandemic: find a truth in the chaos, toss it in a blender with some laughs, and hit “purée.” Who needs meaning or truth when facts are now just science’s opinions?

These essays originated on your blog Life Sucks. Laugh Here. What made you decide to gather them into a book? And why now?

The essays didn’t exactly ask to be a book. They kind of elbowed their way in. Life Sucks Laugh Here started as a way to cope with the absurdity of the 2020 lockdown. There was nostalgia, social commentary, politics, and, yes, some truly absurd bits (hello, Moby's Dick). But it wasn’t just about the chaos of COVID or the insanity of that time. It was about laughing at all of it. And why now? Well, I never thought it possible, but half the U.S. seems to have gotten more selfish and stupid since lockdown. And with Trump still hanging around like an angry, orange dingleberry that refused to drop, it felt like the right moment to refresh these essays. Can you spell “sequel”?

Your reflections skew toward the absurd, but there’s truth and sharp insight underneath. What role do you think satire plays in helping us cope—or confront—societal dysfunction?  

Society is a trainwreck. We’re one power failure away from cannibalism. Satire is the fire extinguisher for the dumpster fire we’re living in. It doesn’t fix anything, but it makes life’s burnt marshmallows a little easier to stomach. Satire lets us laugh at things that are too messed up to face directly, because if we didn’t, we’d be hoarding toilet paper for the next apocalypse. Society itself is an illusion — a false construct built to control the mob with bread and circuses. Satire pulls back the curtain, showing us the absurdity while we’re too busy laughing at the clown. It’s not about ignoring the chaos. It’s about laughing so hard at it that you forget to be terrified, and for a moment, you realize: we’re all just part of the same Big Top culture.

You take shots at everything from politics to “Manopause.” Was anything off-limits for you when writing these essays?  

Off-limits? Pfft. There were no sacred cows. Only the excoriation of those lowing in the fields of conformity. If something felt untouchable, it was probably the first thing I aimed for. Politics, aging, idiocy, nothing was safe. The one thing I didn’t make light of was the 1,100,000+ Americans who died during COVID. Many unnecessarily. That was my line in the sand. But I didn’t hold back when it came to the "Covidiots" who defied every protocol, questioned vaccines, and made the rest of us pay for their selfishness. Those people? Brutal death wished upon them, figuratively, of course. Kinda.

How do you balance dark humor with emotional resonance without tipping too far into either?

Balancing dark humor with emotional resonance is like juggling chainsaws while riding a unicycle. Lean too far into the dark, and you’ll drop a chainsaw straight into the tire and break your neck. Go too light, and you end up juggling rubber chickens - awkward, pointless. No one’s impressed. The trick is knowing when to toss a sharp one and when to let the weight of the moment hang there, like talking over each other on Zoom during your lockdown Thanksgiving dinner. If you make someone laugh and then feel uncomfortable about it, you’ve nailed it. If not, well, you’re probably just going to need better insurance.

Fans of Seinfeld and observational humor will feel right at home in your work. Who are your humor or literary heroes?

While I’m flattered by some comparisons to Jonathan Swift and Dennis Miller, I’m also heavily influenced by the weird, the dark, and the absurd. Seinfeld, for example, is the gold standard for finding comedy in the mundane, like dealing with the aftermath of "Soup Nazis" or becoming "master of my domain." In literature, Vonnegut’s dark humor and Orwell’s sharp, allegorical insights are huge influences. Both tackle the bleakest parts of humanity with humor, yet depth. If a piece of writing can make you laugh and think, then it’s doing its job.

About Life Sucks: Memories and Introspections During the Great Covid Lockdown

Discover PS Conway's deeply cynical yet comedic reflections on the Great COVID Lockdown in this collection of satirical essays, perfect for fans of Seinfeld's humor about "nothing" and skeptics of society's enduring absurdities.

What happens when a poet with a darkly literate soul turns his attention to the absurdity of a global pandemic? You get PS Conway's unique brand of "literary comedic nihilism." Written during 40 weeks of lockdown, this unapologetically irreverent collection of essays is more relevant now than ever. Originally shared on his (now-defunct) blog, "Life Sucks. Laugh Here," Conway's essays serve as both a nostalgic reflection on a "troubling period in history" and a cautionary tale about society's cyclical absurdity.

A two-time Pushcart Nominee, Conway is the author of over 50 poems published across journals and anthologies, including two Amazon Best Sellers. He released his first poetry collection, Echoes Lost in Stars, in March 2024 to critical acclaim. With Life Sucks, Conway brings his trademark wit and dark humor to the page. From the existential significance of a colonoscopy to that of baseball and the overlooked reality of "Manopause," he fearlessly skewers lockdown life, politics, and the human condition.

By the time you finish Life Sucks, you'll understand what Conway meant when he wrote, "My intention was for readers to learn a little, laugh a lot, and then forget about it all, because none of it ever really mattered anyway. The good news? It happened before, and it'll happen again. You never had to worry. Ever. Facts are just science's opinions."

Buy Amazon Kindle | Paperback | Bookshop.org

Q&A with Jeremy Baker, The Guilty Sleep

The Guilty Sleep explores the emotional toll of war and what happens when past allegiances collide with present danger. What inspired this story? Was there a particular event or idea that sparked it?

Totally! I’m an Afghanistan combat veteran who struggled with PTSD after my deployment, which was predicated in large part on a central event mirroring something that happens to the protagonist in The Guilty Sleep, Dexter Grant. Now, what Dex went through is far worse than what I did, but there are definite parallels there. So, his struggles after the end of his war were definitely influenced and inspired by my own. Also, I started writing The Guilty Sleep in the aftermath of the U.S. withdrawal from Afghanistan in 2021. Like many other vets who served there, I had a ton of complex, complicated thoughts and feelings about the situation. Two decades of war, so many friends and allies lost, so much destruction, so much blood spilled—what to do with all of that? In some ways, some of the underlying themes of the book spring from those very strong feelings. There’s a particular scene in the book, the veterans’ support group that Dex attends, where I allow those thoughts and feelings to come a little closer to the surface in the conversation of the characters in the scene. Many of the things that are said by the characters are things I’ve heard—or said -+myself—in conversation with other Afghanistan vets after the U.S. withdrawal. 

Ultimately, what I wanted to do with The Guilty Sleep was (hopefully) tell a killer heist story while also exploring the themes of war, the emotional cost to warfighters, the bonds of camaraderie and family, and the desire to find and do the Next Right Thing.

Dexter Grant is such a layered character—veteran, father, husband, and reluctant criminal. How did he first come to you as a character?

Sometimes, entire stories come to me all at once. I’ll wake up with the idea fully formed, knowing exactly how the plot works and who the characters are. Dex came to me nearly so, although he was actually originally intended to be a her—Destiny Harper! Most of the story was exactly the same, though. As I approached the novel, I realized that to hit the right emotional notes and story beats, to make it feel as real as possible, I needed to get a little closer to the protagonist, put more of myself and my experiences and feelings into them, and Dex “Frogger” Grant came out of that.

The line between right and wrong gets very blurry. How did you approach writing the moral gray areas of the heist and Dex’s decisions?

A key theme of The Guilty Sleep is looking for the Next Right Thing, and what to do when that thing puts you at odds with your moral code. As an Army Counterintelligence Agent, we were trained to spot, assess, and recruit sources of information. A large part of recruiting a source is convincing someone that perhaps their Next Right Thing is in fact betraying their own country, terrorist, or criminal organization and providing information to the U.S. military. The motivation for this betrayal can be any number of things, from providing a financial incentive to appealing to someone’s moral code to serve a greater good. I tend to see the world in large swathes of black and right (probably as a result of my conservative Christian upbringing) with a huge gray area in the middle (probably a result of my lived experience working counterterrorism, intelligence, and national security). Really, when it came down to it, I put myself in Dex’s shoes as much as possible. What would I do if I was truly desperate, facing crushing debt and losing my family, my kid in need of an eyesight-saving surgery, and then I had an opportunity to fix all the financial burdens while at the same time saving the life of the man who saved my own? Would I be able to say no to that?  Fortunately, I haven’t faced that exact choice!

Were there any scenes that were especially difficult to write, emotionally or technically?

Two scenes really stand out for me:  

There’s the scene I already mentioned where a group of veterans discuss their feelings about the withdrawal from Afghanistan. This was a really difficult scene to write, because I both wanted to accurately capture my own challenging thoughts and feelings (sadness, frustration, resignation, anger) while also accurately sharing the various points of view I’d heard from other vets, some of which I agreed with and some with which I disagreed. And then, I needed to tie the scene into the movement of the book’s plot, so that it wasn’t just sitting there as a kind of self-indulgent navel-gazing discourse.

The second is a scene where Dex meets his daughter and his estranged wife at a local park.  As a devoted husband and father, it was really difficult to paint a picture of a family at the breaking point, mixing Dex’s love for his wife and daughter with the pain of their separation (and the root causes behind it) and his searing desire to make it all right, his willingness to take a desperate (and ultimately Very Bad) gamble, and his wife and daughter’s feelings as well.  This was an incredible complex and challenging scene for me.

What was your debut publishing journey like? Any surprises, lessons, or moments of doubt?

Publishing is almost exclusively crippling self-doubt punctuated by moments of terror, disappointment, uncertainty, and, yes, jubilant elation as well. At least it was for me. I remain convinced that any author who says they don’t face moments of self-doubt is either delusional, a big ol’ liar, or someone who’s enjoyed sustained success for so long that they could write anything and it would be an instant best-seller. The main lesson I took from this journey is twofold: tell the story only you can tell, and tell it in the way that only you can, and if you’re going to pursue traditional publishing, you need dogged determination, some luck, and a tremendous agent.

Who are your biggest literary influences?

Oh wow, there are so many in so many genres. When it comes to the crime/thriller genre, I love and admire James Crumley, CJ Box, SA Cosby, Jordan Harper, and Laura Lippman. I also read and write in a few other genres and take great joy and inspiration in writing from NK Jemisin, T Kingfisher, James SA Corey, Joe Hill, Chuck Wendig, and more. If I could write like anyone, I’d be Marcus Sakey crossed with Neal Stephenson.

Your dream casting for Dexter in a film or series adaptation?

I’ve definitely thought about this one. Out of left field choice, Rob McElhenney. He’s known for comedy, but he’s got great dramatic chops too and I think he’d be a great fit.  Aaron Taylor-Johnson would be great as well. If we’re gonna cast someone opposite Dex in the character of his old team leader, mentor, and partner Staff Sergeant Saenz, give me either Charlie Hunnam or Jon Bernthal.

About The Guilty Sleep:

No one gets hurt is a fine plan. A worthy goal. But when it comes down to the moment, there’s always plenty of hurt to go around.

Afghanistan vet Dexter Grant is broke, reeling from PTSD, and on the verge of divorce when he’s approached by his old Army buddies to help rescue their former interpreter, the man who once saved Dex’s life. It means ripping off a vicious queenpin’s drug proceeds—but not to worry, they have it all worked out. And if anyone can pull it off, it’s Dex’s former team lead, Staff Sergeant Saenz.

Tempted by an easy score that could make his own problems disappear and imbued with new purpose, Dex agrees to play his part in the scheme. But just as in combat, the best-laid plans don’t survive first contact with the enemy. When the heist goes off the rails, his wife and daughter become targets for bloody revenge. Dex must face down his spiraling inner darkness and call on all his strength and training to save his girls. In his quest, he’ll learn there was much more to this heist than he ever imagined.

Jeremy D. Baker bursts onto the crime fiction scene with this debut thriller that recalls C. J. Box’s unlikely hero Joe Pickett and the small-town, lived-in noir of S. A. Cosby. Told from three revolving points-of-view, The Guilty Sleep is a riveting tale of robbery and betrayal in which a father’s love faces off with a soldier’s debt.

Buy on Amazon Kindle | Hardcover | Bookshop.org

Q&A with Lee J. Mavin, The Whispering With & Nobody Important

What made you want to publish a children's book?

I have always loved reading children's books. I prefer picture books, young adult fiction and children's fiction over more mature fiction, which is why I enjoy writing in this genre.

I love it that you have two children who are avid readers. Did they play any parts in turning The Whispering Witch and Nobody Important into books?

Yes, my children are always indirectly influencing my work.

What was the hardest thing about getting your books published?

The hardest part is getting read by children as their parents are making most of the selections.

What is something you'd like people to take away from your books?

That poetry can save the world and we can change the world positively as much as we have damaged it.

What do you believe is the latest trend in children's fiction?

Comedy is in full swing. I think radical, crazy fiction is on the rise.

Any tips for future children's book authors?

Keep writing and don't give up. I love reading books by new authors and support indie writers.

About The Whispering Witch:

The Whispering Witch starts with a fading world. The trees are turning grey and the islands are sinking beneath the rising seas. Men of earth continued with their bickering and wars and all hope withered. A young girl came from the soil with one purpose, to heal the sick world. She regrew the glaciers and sprinkled down seeds into the rainforests and even brought the dinosaurs back, hatching from new eggs. The infant reptiles stretch out and play in the modern new world and the children adore them. However, the men cry out in object and gather their swords to bring her down. The leaders of earth witnessed these changes and only wanted to maintain order and control. But the leaders of mankind feared her touch. Distrustful of the power they could not control, they cast her away, determined to maintain their rule. Yet the witch did not come for them. Her message was for their children—the next generation, still untouched by the greed and ruin that plagued the old.

So, the powerful leaders of earth hunted her down and cursed her name. She did not fight them and returned back below, beneath the soil. However, she whispered to all the children of the world and asked them all to put away their father’s swords and look to the gardens, watering the world with hope.

The Whispering Witch is available at Amazon

About Nobody Important

Nobody could have known that the Evil Ones would attack so suddenly from the North. They came with fire and folly, mounted on wild beasts, and the poor Underlings, who were very much undersized and unprepared, cried out for help across the Western Lands. They tried to broadcast the terror to the world and the Higher Elders and Wise Chieftains devised plans to strike back. As the war grew and grew the innocent Underlings watched in horror, hoping for someone to save them. One of those Underlings was Nobody Important (yes that was his actual name), and he came up with an unrealistic plan to stop the Evil Ones.

What was this unrealistic plan and how could somebody named Nobody Important bring an end to the war?

Nobody Important is available on Amazon Kindle | Hardcover | Paperback

Q&A with Shari Leid, Table for 51

Table for 51 is such an intimate and all-embracing journey. What inspired you to take this cross-country trip, and why was it important to document it?

On a personal level, I had never traveled across the U.S. before. As a child, I grew up with parents who were born in Seattle, Washington but were interned during World War II because of their Japanese heritage. That left a lasting imprint on my family. I inherited the belief that we might not be welcome everywhere in this country, and I wanted to challenge and rewrite that narrative for myself.

On a larger scale, I saw how, as a nation, we’d retreated into bubbles—physically due to COVID and emotionally due to political and racial divisions. I wanted to prove that we could sit across from anyone, share a meal, and connect on a human level, regardless of background or belief. It’s those human-to-human connections that bridge divides and remind us of our shared humanity. Documenting this journey felt important because it’s a message I believe the world—and I—needed to hear.

Your father’s fear of being unwelcome because of your Asian heritage was a powerful motivator. How did that shape the lens through which you approached each conversation?

I decided to approach the entire experience with the belief that I was welcome everywhere!

You share your own adoption story—abandoned in Seoul and raised by Japanese American parents. How has that shaped your sense of identity and belonging over the years?

As a child, I just wanted to blend in—to be seen as American, not as “different.” My parents were born and raised in the United States and, aside from a few trips to Vancouver, BC, they had never left the country. While they were Japanese American, they didn’t carry much of the Japanese culture into our home, and there was no connection to Korean culture either.

Looking back, I realize I grew up without a strong cultural anchor, which left me with a sense of not fully belonging anywhere. I didn’t feel rooted in a particular heritage or community, and for a long time, that shaped how I saw myself.

It wasn’t until adulthood, and especially through traveling across the U.S. for this project, that I began to truly understand and accept my identity. Today, I identify as Korean American, but not necessarily through the lens of cultural traditions. Instead, I identify as a human being—one who is deeply curious, open-hearted, and committed to connecting with people wherever I go. My identity has become less about labels and more about how I show up in the world, how I love, and how I engage with others.

I'm still getting to know myself...and I'm really liking who I am and even more who I'm becoming, and I love that it has nothing to do with the way I look, the color of my skin. or the shape of my eyes.

You met with 50 people across all 50 states. Was there a particular encounter that profoundly shifted your perspective on connection or belonging?

I wish I could point to just one encounter, because I get asked this question often—but honestly, it was the collective experience that made the biggest impact on me.

While I started this project seeking connection, what struck me most was the incredible difference I found across the country. Yet, as different as each person was—their background, beliefs, and life circumstances—it often felt like I was sitting across from one teacher, just with a different voice and a new face each time.

Every conversation revealed a unique perspective, but together they formed a shared human experience. It reminded me that while we may appear different on the surface, there’s a common thread running through all of us. It was the collective wisdom, rather than a single encounter, that truly shifted how I see connection and belonging.

Along this journey, you made the life-changing decision to end your 26-year marriage. Was there a specific conversation or moment that gave you the clarity or courage to take that step?

There wasn’t one single conversation that led me to my decision—it was a series of conversations that gradually helped me uncover my truth. Listening to the stories of so many people, especially women who had gone through divorce and rebuilt their lives from the ground up, gave me courage. These women—many of them complete strangers—showed me that when one door closes, another truly does open.

That said, there was one conversation that stood out. In Colorado, I met a woman named Connie. I opened up to her about my marriage struggles and my fears around dating again, especially with all the physical scars I now carry from cancer treatments and hip replacements. I remember asking her, “How will I explain my body to someone new?” And she said something I’ll never forget:

“If you meet the right man, you’ll never have to explain.”

That one sentence gave me a deep sense of peace and strength moving forward.

How did this journey help you redefine what “belonging” means—not just in the world, but within yourself?

I realized belonging is less about external validation and more about self-acceptance. I learned to create a table within myself—a space where I no longer needed permission to show up fully as I am. Once I did that, the external world mirrored it back to me. I found belonging in conversations, in quiet moments on the road, and ultimately in my own heart.

What did you learn about resilience—not just in your own story, but through the stories of the people you met?

Resilience isn’t always loud or heroic—it’s often quiet, daily acts of courage. I met people who survived grief, systemic injustice, loss, and reinvention, yet continued to show up for life. Their stories reminded me that resilience is about bending without breaking, and sometimes, about rewriting the rules entirely.

Looking back, how do you think your father would feel about the journey you embarked on to challenge his fears?

I believe he’d be proud and deeply touched by this journey. While his fear was understandable and rooted in his own experiences, I don’t think he’d want it to define the story. I went out into the world with openness, and what I discovered was kindness, curiosity, and humanity in places where fear might have expected otherwise.

In many ways, I felt like he was with me every step of the way. His second career was as an instructor for the deaf at a college, and throughout my travels, I kept noticing signs for schools for the deaf—places that most people wouldn’t typically notice or encounter. To me, those signs felt like little reminders from him, subtle affirmations that he was walking alongside me on this journey.

If you could sit down for one more meal with someone from this journey, who would it be and why?

Oh boy – that’s a loaded question! I can only pick one? Maybe Jennifer in Wisconsin – because I didn’t have enough time with her. I was traveling through several states in a short amount of time when we met – and I would love to have more time to get to know her. I feel our time was cut short!

What do you hope readers take away from Table for 51, especially those struggling with their own sense of belonging or facing big life transitions?

I hope readers walk away knowing they’re not alone in their search for belonging. I want them to feel empowered to start new conversations, take bold steps, and create connections where they may have once seen only barriers. Whether you’re navigating change, heartbreak, or reinvention, there is always an opportunity to flip the box and reimagine what’s possible.

If you could describe your journey in three words, what would they be?

Vulnerable. Transformational. Brave.

About Table for 51:

Author Shari Leid—abandoned in a cardboard box with no identifying information in Seoul, South Korea, and adopted by Japanese American parents—embarks on a remarkable journey across the U.S. to challenge her father’s fears of being unwelcome because of their Asian faces.

In Table for 51, Shari meets strangers and reconnects with people from her own past, sharing a meal in every state. From bustling city cafés to peaceful countryside tables, each encounter reveals the power of human connection.

Through these fifty heartfelt conversations, Shari discovers the magic of belonging and the courage to embrace change, ultimately ending her turbulent twenty-six-year marriage.

Buy on Amazon Kindle | Audible | Paperback

Q&A with author Jeffrey Dunn, Whiskey Rebel

Whiskey Rebel explores identity, friendship, and the meaning of freedom. What inspired you to write this story, and why did you choose these themes?

That’s a lot. Let’s start with friendship. Back in high school my best friend and I read Richard Brautigan’s A Confederate General from Big Sur and fancied we were the characters Jessie and Lee Mellon. In college we wrote letters back and forth under these personas. Forty-five years later, I decided I wanted to write a novel that extended our friendship, a picaresque western buddy novel, this novel: Whiskey Rebel.

When it comes to identity, only the speaker/recorder Punxie is struggling with this concept. His buddy Hamilton Chance and the other characters don’t have the luxury of navel gazing. After all, an identity crisis only is nurtured in a well-tended garden. Psychologists charge $150 an hour. When it comes to Punxie, his identity crisis is born of social dislocation and failed expectations. He is looking for friends and ultimately a home. He is looking for a country. Hopefully “finding his true self” alleviates his crisis.

Freedom, now that’s the novel’s through line, and I invite readers to dive into Whiskey Rebel to see the idea of American freedom put through its paces.

The novel follows a cast of characters who have been “battered by the past and left behind by the American Dream.” What drew you to tell their stories, and how do you view their struggles as a reflection of modern America?

When I moved with my family from the Appalachian Rust Belt near Pittsburgh, PA to Washington State, I taught high school English for twenty-six years in struggling logging communities. These students and their families make up a vast swath of America, and for the most part, they are politically invisible. In Whiskey Rebel’s first chapter, Punxie tells the story of the school posters that proved to be a lie and the townsfolk, one of them a classmate, who died of heroin overdoses. As a teacher of these students, I was always aware that the staff parking lot was filled with newest and most expensive cars in town.

The historical Whiskey Rebellion of 1794 plays a role in the novel. How does this moment in history parallel the themes and struggles in Whiskey Rebel?

Two things deepen the plot and characters of a novel: natural history (setting) and human cultural history. After I decided that the Columbia Basin in general and Moses Coulee in particular would be where Hamilton and Punxie were going to make their whiskey, I harkened back to where I grew up, the locale for the first rebellion against the U.S. government, an insurrection only five years after the ratification of the Constitution. I knew a little about this time, but as I did a deeper dive, it was clear to me that America has always been in revolt in some way or another. Current events are hardly unprecedented, although they may seem so to us. I want to make clear that I didn’t write Whiskey Rebel in response to current events. For from it. I finished the rough draft before our now infamous January 6, which is to say that Whiskey Rebel is not a thinly-veiled political tract. Instead, my novel is a work of art that portrays the interactions of five singular people in a setting where they are able to act more freely than if they lived most other places in America.

Punxie Tawney is such a compelling narrator, and his voice feels deeply authentic. How did you develop his character, and did he change during the writing process?

Yes, he changed. Early on there wasn’t much difference between Punxie and Hamiliton. The interest was generated by their audacious language and actions, and Cherry was just the sort of female lust interest that has been brought into existence by too many male writers.

After finishing the rough draft, I first did a radical restructuring of the novel’s events, especially of the first hundred pages. Later, I did radical revisions of Punxie and Cherry. For openers, I popped open a beer, and then I went to work developing Punxie’s background, especially his parent’s relationship. In addition, as Punxie’s speech became more literary, he began to reflect on his choices. He is the one character who uses his own self-awareness to grow and change. In some way, Punxie became more like me in temperament, although certainly not in his backstory or actions.

And Cherry? I’m proud that she goes from boytoy to banshee. She fiercely protects her dignity and is Punxie’s harshest critic. She busts Punxie out of his head and forces him, as she says, to “listen and learn.”

You paint a vivid picture of Washington State’s high desert and Moses Coulee. What is your personal connection to this landscape, and how did it shape the novel?

My family and I live in Eastern Washington State, and we have spent a good bit of time camping and fishing in Central Washington’s Columbia Plateau and Basin. One time when my wife and I were driving along the Columbia River, she said to me, “I lived around here back in high school.”

“It was a bad time, right?” I tested. “That was a long time ago. Do you remember the road?”

“Palisades Road. It’s the only road in Moses Coulee.”

“How far in did you live?” To go there meant returning to her heart of darkness.

“The last farm at the end of the road. About twenty miles in. We were hired hands and only lived there for four months.”

“Do you want to take a side trip?”

“Sure, why not.”

After we swung onto Palisades Road, I thought we were on the moon. I don’t like to describe my experiences as surreal, but Moses Coulee was one otherworldly place. It was this experience that provided me with the bedrock for Whiskey Rebel, the book where Punxie Tawney says about Moses Coulee:

To my left, the basalt wall of the Columbia Gorge steeply dropped down to the coulee floor. Then to my right, the basalt wall abruptly rose again. I imagined a sign stretching across the entrance to Moses Coulee: “PEARLY GATES.” No, not a chance. “ABANDON ALL HOPE.” Again, I didn’t think so. This place didn’t care that much.

The novel follows a picaresque structure, with Punxie and his companions moving through different experiences and encounters. What made this storytelling style the right choice for Whiskey Rebel?

Because I started with Richard Brautigan’s A Confederate General from Big Sur as a touchstone, Whiskey Rebel’s genesis is picaresque, or in the vernacular, a real hoot. This style is very Western American and follows in the tradition of On the Road, Only Cowgirls Get the Blues, and even Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. And as fun as such a novel can be, I was encouraged when my developmental editor Fran Leibowitz said the novel could be so much more, and now it is.

Whiskey Rebel raises deep questions about the American Dream. After writing this book, how do you personally define freedom?

Me? As a writer, my authority is beside the point. I do like the place Punxie comes to at the end of Whiskey Rebel. I think it’s best that readers take the journey for themselves, from the novel’s beginning to its end.

What do you hope readers take away from this novel?

I don’t hope other than an enjoyable, thoughtful read. Unpacking the suitcase that is myself, I find almost fifty years of epiphanies about the reading process. Forty-one years of teaching high school English, much of it supporting students who were two or more years behind grade level on the developmental reading scale. A PhD in English Literature and Cultural Studies. Lots of reading in cognitive psychology. A deep dive into dyslexia, ADHD, and high functioning autism. And through it all, I know that as a writer I make squiggly lines and readers use their background knowledge to make meaning from what they decode. No two readers read the same book.

You’ve built a reputation for crafting rich, evocative settings and unforgettable characters. What’s next for you as a writer? Are you working on another project?

I’m posting cultural commentary as Culture Raven on Substack and as Jeffrey Dunn, PhD on Medium.

I’ve also just started a new work of long form magical realism set in and around Spokane, WA, a place of marvelous natural and human history. The odd-numbered chapters feature Anise Finocchia, a young woman who willfully keeps her eyes closed and feels her way through life. Her avatar is Turk (turkey vulture). The even-numbered chapters feature the Christian Saint Patrick, who after being reincarnated as the Boddhisattva Patrick, is reborn again as Spokane Patrick. His avatar is Fly (dragonfly). Eventually, Anise’s and Patrick’s paths meet, all under the watchful presence of Mountain Whitefish. Currently, the manuscript begins:

Anise Finocchia’s mom died today.

Hellbent on survival, her mom had solicited a van, one that was stopped at the intersection of Sprague and Napa in Spokane, WA. She was putting on a show by sucking on a lollipop like a little girl. The driver liked what he saw and motioned for her to hop in. She did so, and without saying a word, they drove to an alley and parked.

About Whiskey Rebel:

A shell-shocked soldier returns home, questioning the very meaning of American freedom.

While panning for gold, Iraq-war veteran Punxie Tawney meets Hamilton Chance, a barefoot, manic, obsessive drummer with a burning desire—to distill tax-free whiskey just like his forefathers during the American Whiskey Rebellion of 1794. The two join forces, set up shop in the rugged high desert of Washington's Columbia Basin, and begin producing Westcoulatum Good Goddamned 1794 Freedom Whiskey. But soon their alcohol-fueled idyll is disrupted by Cherry, a.k.a. the Aphrodite of Wenatchee, and her best friend Loyalhanna, a woman so traumatized by her past that she refuses to speak to men. Plus there's the indigenous hustler, Sam the Man, and before long, out where "the rattlesnakes lie out in sage leaf bikinis," the cast of quirky characters discovers that freedom is not a one-size-fits-all concept.

Drawing inspiration from the annals of U.S. history, Jeffrey Dunn's literary novel Whiskey Rebel paints a riveting portrait of characters left behind by the American dream, engaging readers in a thought-provoking tale about identity, freedom, and the ongoing pursuit of happiness.

Buy on Amazon Kindle | Bookshop.org