The People of Three Pines: Myrna Landers

Like Myrna herself, her bouquets were huge, effusive and unexpected. – Still Life

In just over an hour Myrna had gone from a world of complaint to a world of contentment. That had been six years ago. Now she dispensed new and used books and well-worn advice to her friends. – A Fatal Grace

Myrna smiled. She looked like a massive Easter egg herself, black and oval and wrapped in a brilliant purple and red caftan. – The Cruelest Month

Myrna was as close as their village came to a doctor. She’d been a psychologist in Montreal before too many sad stories and too much good sense got the better of her, and she’d quit. – The Brutal Telling

Myrna read the London Sunday Times Travel Magazine, moaning occasionally over the éclair and over the descriptions of the spa getaways. – Bury Your Dead

Myrna’s voice was calm. Precise. A perfect witness, as Gamache had come to realize. Nothing superfluous. No interpretation. Just what had happened. – How the Light Gets In

The large black woman took the comfortable wing chair across from Reine- Marie and leaned back. She’d brought her own mug of tea from her bookstore next door, and now she ordered Bircher muesli and fresh- squeezed orange juice. – The Long Way Home

The heat shimmered off the buildings and bounced off concrete and drilled into the pavement, which gave off the scent of melting asphalt in the heavy, humid air. Myrna found it strangely calming. Her mother’s and grandmother’s comfort smells were cut grass and fresh baking and the subtle scent of line- dried sheets. For Myrna’s generation the smells that calmed were manufactured. Melting asphalt meant summer. VapoRub meant winter, and being cared for. There were Tang and gas fumes and long- gone photocopy ink. All comforted her, for reasons that beggared understanding, because they had nothing to do with understanding. After years in Three Pines, her comfort scents were evolving. She still loved the smell of VapoRub, but now she also appreciated the delicate scent of worms after a rain. – The Long Way Home

“When I stopped being a therapist I asked myself one question. What do I really want to do? Not for my friends, not for my family. Not for perfect strangers. But for me. Finally. It was my turn, my time.” – The Nature of the Beast

“I’m worried that the advice I gave to clients years ago, when I was a therapist, was wrong,” said Myrna. “I wake up in the middle of the night, afraid I’ve led someone astray. In the daylight I’m fine. Most of my fears come in the darkness.” – A Great Reckoning

Myrna was a retired psychologist from Montréal, who now ran the shop right next to the bistro, Myrna’s New and Used Bookstore. Clara had a theory that villagers manufactured problems, just to go sit with Myrna. – Glass Houses

He’d never met the woman who’d just arrived, but already he didn’t like her. She was large and black and a “she.” None of those things he found attractive. But worse still, Myrna Landers had arrived five minutes late, and instead of hurrying inside, spouting apologies, she was standing around chatting. As though he weren’t waiting for them. As though he hadn’t been clear about the time of the appointment. – Kingdom of the Blind

But Myrna rarely looked away from some awful truth. Preferring to know rather than to live in blissful, if dangerous ignorance. It was one of her worst qualities. – A Better Man

Before arriving in Three Pines, Myrna Landers had been a prominent psychologist in Montréal, specializing in especially difficult cases. Part of her work was in the SHU, the Special Handling Unit, reserved for the worst, the most troubled offenders. The insane. – The Madness of Crowds

Since Myrna was a purveyor of books, and the young agent was addicted to them, this made the bookseller her pusher, though actually more like her priestess. – A World of Curiosities

THE GREY WOLF

And she’d tell him what it had been like to be Dr. Landers, a senior psychologist specializing in criminal behavior. Until one day she’d wandered too deep into a mind, into a cave, and gotten lost. She needed to find her way back to the sunshine. To a world where goodness existed. She’d quit her job, packed up her small car, and left the city, without a particular destination in mind. Just, away. Stopping in the unexpected village for a break, she went into the bistro, had a café and a croissant, discovered the shop next door was for rent, as was the loft above, and Myrna Landers never left. She had found her quiet place in the bright sunshine. And Dr. Landers became Myrna. – The Grey Wolf

Louise writes that villagers in Three Pines often seek out Myrna Landers, the former psychologist from Montreal who now runs Myrna’s New and Used Bookstore, to sit with her and seek her calming advice. Do you feel that these excerpts capture Myrna’s essence? What else would you add?