Search This Blog

Chance to Win A Kindle and Other Prizes!

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Book Information

The Drawing Lesson (Book 1) by Mary E Martin


Magical light creates stunning visions in Alexander Wainwright’s landscape paintings. His most recent painting, The Hay Wagon, is a marvelous, moonlit scene, with an old-fashioned hay wagon dominating the foreground, with a beautiful, unearthly glow. Yet, at the pinnacle of his career, he is about to lose his muse.

Not everyone appreciates his work. Rinaldo, a conceptual artist, mocks Alexander’s bourgeois love of beauty, believing Alexander’s success proves that the universe is chaotic and absurd. Determined to undermine, humiliate and ultimately destroy his rival, he defaces Alex’s painting.

Alexander brushes off the attack, but soon he has a frightening vision of misshapen, human-like creatures. These trolls start appearing in his art, and he is beset by questions. Who are these ugly beings? Has he lost both his light and his art?

The creatures lead Alexander to journey from London to Venice and from Toronto to New York as he seeks to understand their meaning. He meets many people, each with a story to tell. Meanwhile, Rinaldo waits in New York City, intent on settling a score in The Drawing Lesson.


·         Honorable Mention Reviewers Choice Award

·         The New York Festival of Books

Preview from The Drawing Lesson:

Wainwright looked upon his most recent canvas. With soft greens and grays, he had painted a river, beyond which lay a grassy plain. A smoky ridge of hills lay huddled on the horizon. In the water, he had painted the reflection of several trees, which now looked like shadowy boatmen silently drifting towards Hades…

He knew how the creative process might grow. If he were quietly attentive, sometimes he could court the muse and so now he sat motionless and invited it to unfold its treasures…

Rising suddenly, he seized his brush and palette. He squeezed out a blob of black oil paint, then a fat curl of crimson. After rooting through his paint box, he found a tube of cadmium yellow and smeared it on the palette. Then he pinched nearly empty tubes, making dots of purple and green. Cautiously, he advanced toward his painting.

With the deft strokes of his smallest brush, he painted one tiny black figure seated underneath a tree on the riverbank. With his finest brushstrokes, he brought the creature to a life of intense pain and sorrow. Wainwright muttered the word “bereft” as he added strokes of yellow and red.

“Who, in God’s name, are these pitiable creatures?” he asked aloud. “Where did they come from?” In the breaking dawn, he sat on his stool and stared at them. At last he said, “They are the trolls.”