Charlie Pinkham, the main character of Shannon Parker’s third novel, “Love & Lobsters,” is almost living her best life. As a female lobsterman in Christmas Cove, a fictional town set east of Boothbay Harbor, she’s surrounded by love — her best friend, Maia, whom she met in grade school; her grandmother, Mem (rhymes with Gem); and the greater fishing community.
Isn’t that enough?
Charlie has always been more comfortable braving the cold Atlantic than diving into romance. When Maia asks her to write her holiday blog and a handsome (but married) new tenant moves in next door, her lobster-themed posts go viral. Readers connect with shellfish behavior, hardwired to protect itself. But when the armor slides off and the mating ritual begins, that’s relatable.
Parker’s new book is a love letter to Maine, its 65 lighthouses, 3,478 miles of coastline, buoys and whoopie pies, but most of all, its “greatest resource”: its people. In her portrayal of coastal life, she seeks to transform the romance genre by incorporating themes of “big nature” and love in all its forms.
In an interview with The Times Record, Parker emphasizes that when searching for a cotton candy lobster, whether in a friend, spouse or partner, one should hold out for the 1 in 100 million.
“The wait will be worth it, and the search will be a beautiful journey.”
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
This book differs from your other novels, ‘The Girl Who Fell’ (2016) and ‘The Rattled Bones’ (2017). What inspired ‘Love & Lobsters’?
My books all feature strong female characters in traditionally male-dominated fields, so that’s remained a constant. But given our country’s divisiveness, I felt drawn to focus on joy and love. We all seek connection, which I aim to capture in this story.
I envisioned a tale about a rugged, independent female lobster fisherman who hesitates to embrace romantic love. The book celebrates various forms of love: love for family members and neighbors and the connection to the land and sea. Maine experiences challenging weather for nine months of the year, but residents support each other with determination and grit. It’s not your typical romance but a tribute to the many types of love in a close-knit community.
How did you customize the setting after consulting with experts such as Round Pound Harbormaster Robert Ball?
The fictional setting, Christmas Cove, is inspired by my home at the end of the Damariscotta River.
There’s a point where the river meets a harbor and then the sea. I’ve always seen it as a beautiful metaphor: The ocean is vast and tumultuous; at the same time, the river flows into it, creating a blend of freshwater and seawater, which the harbor contains in a confined space. It is inspiring how these two ecosystems converge before reaching the Gulf of Maine. Witnessing that feels like standing at the edge of the universe, with the earth and sea draped over you like a cape. Christmas Cove, 7 miles from Boothbay by boat and 30 miles by car, is not a tourist-laden place. It’s a tiny microcosm of Maine.
How does the concept of ‘tradition’ shape the book?
The narrative is devoted to exploring this question. Tourists visit and catch a glimpse of Maine life. The tradition they observe is not accidental; it is upheld by those who came before, including the Maliseet, Mi’kmaq, Penobscot and Passamaquoddy, collectively known as the Wabanaki or “People of the Dawnland,” as well as the fishermen who steward the seas today.
In “Love & Lobsters,” Charlie’s great-grandmother built a fictional lighthouse during World War I, while her husband was overseas. A big realization for Charlie is that our current position is a result of the efforts and love of others. We are shaped by intergenerational knowledge that we inherit and pass on. It’s up to us to decide whether to continue family and community traditions or create new ones. Change is constant, and we must decide whether to embrace or resist it, much like how lobsters use their protective shells for defense.
As much as there is a general upset about the tourists who come and go, this story shows how fishermen benefit from selling this catch to a market with high demand, as do local school systems when visitors buy summer homes and pay property taxes. It’s a balance, though it can be challenging at times. As Charlie realizes, we need tourists as much as they need us. And sometimes, our assumptions can lead us to misunderstand the true nature of things.
What lessons can we draw from the lobster industry that Charlie also learns?
Fishermen have set specific size and gender requirements for keeping lobsters, retaining only a portion of the catch. Most are released back into the ocean, contributing to the population’s continued flourishing. This protocol wasn’t imposed by outsiders but by those within the industry. Which, to me, reflects the deep care that fishermen have for preserving our marine environment.
Charlie learned how to fish from her dad. In the book, she teaches her beau the process from sea to plate, and readers get to learn, too. It doesn’t read like a school lesson; it’s educational but still interesting. And some cultural bits come up, too. For instance, one blog post notes that there’s no such thing as pulling an empty pot. Every lobster trap carries water to the surface. The ocean is drawn up from the bottom, and even if no sea life is caught, brine is returned to the great tide and the water is changed. Fishermen don’t drown when discouraged. They simply carry on. Some days are abundant; other days, you’re just changing the water; there’s a rhythm.
‘Love & Lobsters’ illustrates the allure and challenge of living in Maine. How did you tie elements of nature into the text?
I’ve always been drawn to the water. It’s where I go to be instantly restored. This book captures the essence of many of my kayak trips. You can imagine the trees swaying as an osprey returns to its nest or the icy waves crashing on the shore. It takes devotion for fishermen to wake up at 3 a.m., get on the boat and head out for a hard job. But there’s something about intense beauty that acts as a source of motivation, even in the most challenging circumstances. Maine holds a certain mystique that draws people in, perhaps comparable to Alaska. This unforgiving ruggedness, combined with hardworking people’s warmth, makes it unique.
Vulnerability can be scary, but as you mention in the book, that fear fades away when both parties shed their armor and ‘swim in a sea of trust.’ In this time of great divide, how can we create the space for more people to step into love?
I tried to cover every type from big love, expressive and unignorable, to love in subtle moments that send ripples. In the book, Charlie wrestles with a fundamental conflict: Does a hard shell protect her from getting hurt? Or prevent her from finding our 1 in 100 million?
I would argue that hard shells harden our view of the world, which doesn’t end up healing our hearts or the hearts of others. My father taught me to live with a big heart: create joy, dive in and laugh sincerely. Start conversations with “yes.” My mom showed me that women endure and that my capacity to bring life isn’t restricted by my ability to give birth. We all can breathe life into the world. Will it come at tremendous risk? For sure. But, as Charlie admits, living in a world without risk is living without love. In the end, I’ll choose risk. Every. Time.
What conversations do you hope readers will have after finishing the book?
It’s not your typical romance. It evokes the feeling of being fully immersed in nature, out on the water, uninterrupted, held by something bigger than yourself. When people finish the book, I hope they’ll turn to share it with someone they love. A few book club questions might be:
• What are the ways we actively create and encourage kindness in the world?
• How has nature helped heal you or someone you love?
• Although the community supports her, Charlie feels most at peace on the water. Where are the places where you feel content and buoyed, even if alone?
• Love is a verb. It’s an action. Charlie’s beau tells her in the book: “Care is a verb, an action. Something we have to do and not just talk about.” In what ways do the characters demonstrate how care and love are actions? How do we see active care/love manifest in our lives, and how might we increase our capacity to love and trust others?
• Okay. How cool are lobsters?
To grab a signed copy of “Love & Lobsters,” head to Sherman’s Maine Coast Book Shop on release day, Oct. 1. Or swing by Sherman’s Maine Authors’ Festival in Topsham on Oct. 2 to connect with Parker during her inaugural book signing from 1-4 p.m.
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