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Father-daughter cancer story sold in living rooms

It was her first book, and Kelly Corrigan knew no matter how engaging her writing, how intriguing the topic or how established her publisher, a book tour was out of the question.

It was her first book, and Kelly Corrigan knew no matter how engaging her writing, how intriguing the topic or how established her publisher, a book tour was out of the question.

Old-style, multicity book tours draw crowds only to celebrity authors, she was told, and even then they don't sell many books because most attendees already have a copy.

What's left - word of mouth?

Precisely, says Corrigan, a Radnor native and the author of

The Middle Place

(Voice/Hyperion Books). Corrigan and her father were diagnosed with cancer at the same time - an unusual circumstance that highlighted the overlapping roles of parents and children.

Corrigan knew she needed to distinguish her memoir from others out there about surviving cancer. So she extended her options by asking friends and acquaintances across the country to host book parties in their homes.

Luckily, she had endeared herself to people not just locally, but in Virginia, where she graduated from the University of Richmond, and in Northern California, where she earned a master's degree in literature from San Francisco State, and where she and her husband, Edward Lichty, make their home.

Her house tours were so successful that

The Middle Place

was tied for 15th place on the Feb. 3 list of New York Times Nonfiction best sellers, and it was chosen as the January pick by BookSense, the largest association of independent booksellers.

The book explores what happens when Corrigan and her father are diagnosed with late-stage cancer within months of each other. Kelly is 36 and the mother of two girls still in diapers when she is told she has Stage III breast cancer.

George Corrigan, a Hall of Fame lacrosse player who made all-American in 1953 and 1954 and later coached at Radnor High, survived a 1992 battle with prostate cancer only to be diagnosed with bladder cancer in his 70s.

In fact, the Corrigan clan was so worried about Kelly's situation that they kept secret her father's first bladder-cancer diagnosis in 2003 - not telling her until 2004 when the disease resurfaced.

That decision, to keep Kelly uninformed initially, got to the heart of a parenting dilemma, she says.

"It's about finding the right balance as parents between scaring and sparing children," she says.

Corrigan describes herself as Daddy's Girl - the only daughter of a garrulous Irish American charmer whose dedication to the church is matched only by his belief in the healing power of sports. With a father who saw each new day as cause for celebration, she says, her optimism was expected.

As the book opens, she is a parent relating to her own daughters one moment, and a child to her parents the next. And later, when her father's life is in jeopardy, Corrigan finds herself trying to parent her own father.

"The cancer was incidental," she writes. "It could have been any crisis. What it did was make me realize how much I still needed my parents."

She approaches the subject with as much humor as possible and notes that her mother did not embrace every aspect of the memoir.

"I don't think we need to tell the whole world you were suspended in high school," she recalls hearing from her mother.

The house parties are intimate occasions, attended mostly by women.

In January, more than 40 women turned out in a thunderstorm at Hilary Maner's home in Villanova for tea sandwiches (cucumber with minted cream cheese; smoked turkey with cranberry butter, cheese and chutney) and to hear Kelly Corrigan read. None of them happened to be cancer survivors, but Corrigan said they each had experiences that should be heard.

"Everyone in this room has a story to tell," Corrigan told the gathering. "I just want to acknowledge that."

Then she proceeded to read - about the fear of dying young, the time she lost her virginity, and all manner of events in the middle.

George Corrigan drove his daughter to the reading and, smiling broadly, he picked her up afterward.

He is 77 now, still living in Villanova, still in remission. Kelly Corrigan, now 40, endured eight cycles of chemotherapy, a lumpectomy, two months of radiation, and is still dashing from one house party to another.

This memoir is not Corrigan's first foray as a writer.

At the time of her diagnosis, Corrigan was already writing a column called "Grain of Salt" for the Bay Area News Group. She also collaborated with Christine Carter, a Berkeley Ph.D. who studies the science of happiness, to develop a Web site for parents. GreaterGood.Berkeley.edu, offers advice and videos on "the science of raising happy kids."

Once in treatment, Corrigan also launched Circus of Cancer.org, a Web site where she helps people find the right things to say and do when a friend is diagnosed with breast cancer, and at key stages of treatment.

(One suggestion: Volunteer to take your friend's kids somewhere fun so she has time to handle some of the phone calls she doesn't want them to overhear.)

Despite the book's recent success, it is too late in the book-selling season to set up a book tour, says publicist Sally McCartin.

Instead, McCartin says, a satellite tour is scheduled on Feb. 19. Essentially, Corrigan will sit in a sound studio all day, available for 20 author interviews with television stations nationwide.

"We all loved the book," McCartin says. "But we didn't think it would be a shoo-in. For a first-time author, this is the best news you can get."

And the house tours will continue. Book clubs interested in hosting a house party with Corrigan should contact McCartin at

» READ MORE: samccartin@aol.com

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