Peace Corner: A Novel

Reviewed by Michele Sands

November 1, 2026

By Diane Chiddister. Atmosphere Press, 2026. 206 pages. $15.99/paperback; $8.99/eBook.

Irascible Olympia is pushing 80 and carries extra peace and protest signs in the back of her car, “in case someone needs one.” That’s my kind of gal! If you agree, you will likely enjoy Peace Corner, a warm and often humorous novel set in present-day Yellow Springs, Ohio, a small progressive community with a strong Quaker history and presence. Since this is the beginning of the second Trump administration, Olympia finds many occasions to carry signs, to help neighbors, and to get into, as John Lewis would say, “good trouble.”

Delightful, decent characters inhabit Peace Corner, as told through Olympia’s adventures. Howie is a Trump supporter and an Amazon driver who delivers dog and cat food to old people, even carrying the heavy boxes up their stairs. Claude was a lawyer in Haiti, now working in the Amazon warehouse; he encounters Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents during a minor traffic incident. Teenager Avery is concerned about bathroom rules for trans students in her high school. Cary, retired lawyer and widower, bakes pies for any sad or glad occasion that arises. And, of course, there is an aging, loyal dog; a struggling grocery store; a hint of romance; and a Quaker potluck.

Clichés? Not in this author’s hands. Diane Chiddister, the former editor of the Yellow Springs News for many years, knows her subjects well. As a graduate of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, she is a fine writer who also knows her craft. Her first novel, One More Day, about aging in a continuing care center, was an award winner. She now lives in Olympia, Wash., near her grandchildren. Chiddister’s prose is breezy; the chapters are short; and the hopeful story lines offer respite from the news. My favorite line is, “The geese are throwing a party.”

Yet Peace Corner involves the reader in the struggles those news headlines induce. One instance that stands out for me is Olympia’s foray into the nearby big city of Springfield. Her sign reads, “ICE IN SPRINGFIELD! ARE YOU OK WITH THIS?” She can’t believe she is getting “butterflies, in her chest,” an old pro like her! Wouldn’t she rather be doing something else? “We could play pickle ball! Knit a scarf! Bake a cake! Don’t make us hold up this sign,” she begs no one in particular. But she does hold up the sign. “She doesn’t want to tell people what to think. She wants to ask them a question, make them think for a second.” Cars and trucks pass by; old people, young people, moms and dads. Olympia stands on the curb in the cold as rain begins to fall and recalls her years as a doctor and thinks of her patients’ hearts. “Hearts astonished her every time. Each day, every exam, she fell in love. . . . humans are valiant. It’s easy to fall in love,” she muses.

Olympia struggles with aging, independence, loneliness, the death of loved ones—and with nonviolence: she bashes a Trump supporter’s truck with a tree limb. Through it all, Olympia keeps the “Peace Corner” going every Saturday for 25 years in the center of town. “We never stopped reminding you that peace is an option. That a just world is possible. It’s what Quakers do. It’s what old people do,” she says.

In an afterword by the author (received after this review was written), Chiddister notes: “Temporary Protective Status (TPS) for the 15,000 Haitians in Springfield, OH, ended on July 1, 2026.” Had she known this before publishing the book a few months prior, she would have ended the story differently. Olympia would, Chiddister writes, “do exactly what my real-life friends and neighbors in Yellow Springs, OH, are doing each day, a level of caring and activism that inspired this book.”

Still, Peace Corner is a good read. It is also good for gifting: for a friend who wants to know more about Quakers; for a Friend who needs a little validation now and then; for offspring of old folks to let them know what we are up to; and for yourself because everyone needs life-affirming, relaxing reading.

Michele Sands still worships with Upper Susquehanna Quarterly—land of the Lenape—via Zoom. She also worships and carries peace signs with her neighbors in Collington, a Kendal-affiliated retirement community outside of Washington, D.C., land of the Potomac, where an enslaved man named Nace worked and did not live to see his son set free.