what women write

Why I Write

2012-01-27T07:00:00.001-06:00

(Subtitle: Reminders To Self, In Times of Brain Lock)

By Susan

Sometimes I need a reminder to why I do this— the late nights and early mornings alone, the thinking, the writing, the editing. I now have this list posted close to my monitor for the tough times. Enjoy!

Susan, Susan, Susan. You write because you love it. Silent hours with a scratchy pencil. Fifteen minutes in front of a clicking keyboard with music thumping in your ear buds. Stolen moments when you pull over the car to write down a perfect sentence in the "notes" app of your iPhone. You write because you love to write. You love the words.

Second reason: you write because you have something to say. About human nature and relationships and the existence, perhaps, of God. You want to tell of places and books and men that you've loved. In the telling, you feel connected. Because other people relate. They read it, and love it or hate it or agree or disagree. But it ties you, you know. It ties you to humanity.

The third reason? You write because it feels good to get the words out of your head and onto paper. Simple.

Number Four: This brain lock thing? It doesn't exist. You think you are frozen because the words are hard. (Who said just because you love something it is easy? In fact, it is usually quite the opposite.) Because sometimes you throw it all away and start over, or because you are not clearly stating your point and must work for it. This means that you need to move. Take Lucy for a run. Scrub a toilet, or eat some pudding while you walk in circles in the kitchen. Practice your sun salutation on the back patio. You'll find that the words will come back to you. I promise.

Lastly, dear Self: don't let other's opinions, your failure or even your own success, or the busy-ness of your life ever get in the way of your "one thing." That "one thing?"

It is this.

Keep doing it. No matter what.

Today, I Muse

2012-01-25T09:00:00.004-06:00

by Elizabeth

There are all these faces, and behind each one a brain, a mind, a life. Everyone has a story, and writers seek to tell them. Call it fiction, sure, but I think you'd be hard-pressed to find a writer who succeeds (if it is indeed to be called success) in divorcing himself from himself in his stories. What is fiction but seeking the truth within the structure of a supposed lie?

I just read Dan Chaon's You Remind Me of Me. It jumps from time periods, back and forth, weaving apparently unrelated people's stories until they finally intersect (no spoilers here, I promise), as the reader of course knew they always would. What was fascinating to me, both as a reader and a writer, was how interested in his people Chaon managed to make me--people whom in real life I would probably never even notice or perhaps encounter. I hate to say that; as a writer, it's surely my responsibility to notice, to consider, to imagine. But in the course of my daily trajectory, I have to admit my eyes slide past many faces, maybe even most. The guy behind the counter, behind the wheel of the car behind mine, the guy behind the register ringing up my bread and milk.

But I do notice a lot, and I think, and wonder, and invent. Then I read something like Chaon's book, and I'm reminded the noticing is worth it. It can produce something of interest and value.

All these faces. Everyone has a story.

An International Walk

2012-01-23T05:00:00.002-06:00

by Joan

Recently I learned that an acquaintance from my Oxford summer program passed away. Michael (seen here with the lovely Mary-Lucille) wrote spare but spot-on poetry, traveled the UK with gusto, showed complete interest in whoever stood across from him and carried this basket with him always. His wife said he counted his time among us as a high point in his life, and that he had warm and enduring friendships among us.

I also view my time there as a high point, not only because it spawned a manuscript that now lives under my bed and in my heart’s left ventricle, but because I met a truly international group of friends who, each in their own way, adds richness to my memories and my writing self.

Devon, a professor of Irish literature at West Virginia Wesleyan, slipped into the chair next to mine at the first dinner, straight from her cottage on the west coast of Ireland. I knew then that my Maeve Binchy-loving self had found a soul sister. When plans took me to within an hour of her home in WVA, we scheduled a weekend in Shepherdstown, where we roamed quaint streets and talked literature, browsed bookstores and clomped through the cemetery. She also read my then-WIP, The Bodley Girl, and offered invaluable feedback.

The graceful Mary Lucille, posing here with Michael in Exeter’s quad, recently earned a diploma in Creative Writing from Oxford and writes in the vein of Virginia Woolf without being the least bit copy-cattish. She read the British bits of Bodley and advised me on WWII-era fashion and makeup and music. On my next trip to the U.K., I will buy her a spot of tea.

Megan, then a young Duke graduate student with killer writing skills, lodged in the rooms next to mine, and occasionally we'd sneak off to Starbuck’s for real coffee and critique sessions. She was insightful and generous and now, six years later, is on everyone’s watch list for her short story collection, Birds of a Lesser Paradise, which debuts in March. (I pre-ordered from Battenkill Books, an independent bookstore in Vermont.) This is going to be big, people, just wait!

Laura is an absolute sweetheart, a brilliant writer from Mexico living in Amsterdam, publishing books and essays about multicultural issues. Last I heard, she was the Policy Advisor for the International Affairs department of the Dutch Institute for Multicultural Affairs-FORUM. Chance brought us together in New York a few years ago, and we traipsed the streets near Washington Square, stopped in every bookstore and discussed life’s great mysteries.

Naya from Athens got a kick out of my character named Athena in The Cemetery Garden and schooled me on the proper way to pronounce her name: uh-thee-nuh not uh-thee-nuh. She recently stole my dream and moved to London and, after my tea with Mary Lucille, I will storm the Tower of London with Naya.

Shirley travels the world, but I met up with her again in Austin at the Writers League of Texas conference a few years ago. She writes essays on life, which she knows a thing or two about.

Rieko writes exquisite poetry and has contributed to BBC radio programs, both on and off the air. There were times, toward the end of our program, when Rieko and I found ourselves bolting from the Great Hall, up George Street and across Hythe Bridge to avoid a too-often-served dish. It was the first (and last) time I tried green curry, but the joy we found sitting outside with a glass of wine was worth it, made all the more humorous when we looked over to see that Naya, Laura and a few others had the same idea.

There were about sixty of us in total, mentored by professors Jem Poster (brilliant poet and novelist) and Sandie Byrne (leading Austen expert), and many of us keep in touch via Facebook, like Rob and Michelle and Lito and Charles.

The cliché about meeting people in all walks of life is true and I’m thankful I took that walk. And I hope that Michael is someplace warm, with a full basket of pencils and paper.

A Tough Act to Follow

2012-01-20T05:00:00.001-06:00

By Kim

I’ve known I wanted to be a writer since I was eight and have never wavered long from that dream. When my older daughter, then nine, discovered her own passion, I did what my parents did before me. I took her seriously and encouraged her to nurture and develop her natural talents.

My daughter at the barre. Photo by Deborah Downes

Over a year has passed since then and my aspiring ballerina is now enrolled at a school where she can get the serious training she craves. I have watched her transform into a poised and graceful young lady, confident in who she is and what she wants. She has also, unbeknownst to her, become my role model for how to pursue a dream, and she’s a tough act to follow. The lessons I’ve learned from her may seem basic common sense, but I’m sure I’m not the only one who needs reminding.

1) If you don’t actively chase a dream, it will forever remain a dream. It takes work to succeed. Learn to love work. Barre exercises are to a dancer what parking one’s rear end in a chair is to a writer. Both require focus and discipline. In this short video you will see a small group of dancers doing the same combination at the barre. Even an untrained eye can determine who wants to be there and who simply goes through the motions. (My daughter is directly in front of the camera – middle child along the barre at the back of the room–I wish I had her focus.)

2) Don’t be afraid of correction or feedback. It’s the only way to improve.

3) Find a teacher who will be honest about your weaknesses and guide you to overcome them, or at least not call attention to them.

4) You can’t join a company before learning how to dance en pointe. You can’t publish a novel if you never finish it.

5) If you dance, you are a dancer. If you write, you are a writer. It really is that simple.

6) If you don’t love it, do something else. If you do love it, don’t be satisfied doing anything else.

7) Dance (or write) because you can’t help yourself. Remember why you love what you do and don’t forget to have fun, as my children are in this video. (My kids are the shorter one in black and the little one in the blue and white dress .)

Do you struggle to live by any of these rules? We’d love to hear about it, especially if you have found a way to overcome them.

The Pulpwood Queen Reigns

2012-01-18T14:54:00.014-06:00

By Julie

As mentioned in my last post, January has been a whirlwind month, and it's not over until it's over!

Last weekend, I had the privilege of attending Kathy Patrick's Pulpwood Queens 12th Annual Girlfriend Weekend in Jefferson, Texas. I went as a "civilian" this year as my book isn't out yet, but hope I'll get to attend as a panelist or speaker in future years. This event is indescribable, but I'll do my best.

The theme this year was The Greatest Show on Earth. There were costumes--authors dressed as clowns to serve dinner to attendees Thursday, authors and attendees dressed in all manner of attire for the Pretty in Pink Prom Party Friday evening, authors and attendees dressed as their favorite circus performers Saturday evening. I personally attempted the Pink Punk Prom look, but mostly looked like a six-year-old dressed up for a tea party--Here I am with Margaret Dilloway and Karen Harrington, and the very lovely photo credit goes to Sarah Deutsch! I went as a fortune teller Saturday night, with a little more success, in my humble opinion. (There I am below with Margaret, again, and Eleanor Brown, author of The Weird Sisters, sporting our tattoos applied by Eleanor!)

But it wasn't all about the costumes. During the day, I occupied a table with a few others who hadn't come with book clubs. For fun, we named ourselves the "Bridget Jones Bookclub--All singletons welcome!" We even made a sign. We were enthralled by keynote speakers, including John Berendt, Robert Hicks, Robert Leleux, Wade Rouse, Bill Torgerson, and Jenny Wingfield, and entertained as Tina Sloan, former star of The Guiding Light, performed part of her show, Changing Shoes, and Elaine Clark explained how to use your voice to make money. I know I've left someone out. We listened to other authors talk about their books and answer questions from Kathy Patrick, Robert Leleux, and the audience.

One of the best parts was getting to know several authors in person I only knew online before (Eleanor Brown, Kathryn Casey, Meg Waite Clayton, Karen Harrington, my Weed Lit Agency "sister," Sarah Jio, Caroline Leavitt, Rebecca Rasmussen, to name a few), meeting authors new to me (Jill S. Alexander, River Jordan, Nicole Seitz, Marybeth Whalen ... and the list goes on!), and also spending time with Margaret Dilloway again, an author I met last fall in Oregon. Her hubby came along and was our gracious chauffeur, dropping Margaret and me at the door, picking us up, and putting a total of something like 12 miles on my car all weekend in the tiny town of Jefferson, Texas!

That's a lot of names to drop. But it just goes to show that this event really packs a punch. So many authors at one circus ... errrr, conference! What a blast. I was also able to meet potential readers of Calling Me Home, and was delighted to be asked by several of the authors to visit their blogs when the book releases.

Whether you're a member of the Pulpwood Queens book clubs or not, if you're a reader, you should consider adding this fun and crazy event to your annual schedule!

Now I'm home again, deep in edits for Calling Me Home again, and gearing up for more excitement, because it just never ends these days.

I've been asked to host a Girls' Night Out screening in Dallas next week at the Studio Movie Grill for a movie starring Rachel McAdams, The Vow. I'll introduce the movie and get to talk up Calling Me Home a bit in the process! I kind of feel like a celebrity …

But my daughters are mostly excited about seeing CHANNING TATUM on screen, as I'm sure most of the ladies in attendance will be, too! (Come on, admit it, he's pretty cute!)

Is your head spinning yet? Mine is. And ... it's time to get back to those edits!

Don't forget, you can go to my website to sign up for my mailing list to stay updated on book news and also to register for the necklace giveaway! I received my necklace just in time for the Pulpwood Queens weekend, and LOVE it! I can't wait to order the second one for my giveaway, and am still so thrilled I came across Sam Gibson and her beautiful jewelry!

Next time I'm up at the blog, I'll be hosting the lovely Sere Prince Halverson as she talks about her newly released, much anticipated novel, The Underside of Joy.

In Praise of Book Clubs

2012-01-16T07:00:00.000-06:00

By Pamela

I've yet to meet a writer who wasn't also a voracious reader. It's akin to saying you compose songs but never listen to music or sing. One can't be proclaimed without the other.

Me (bottom left) with my Illinois book club friends, circa 2002.

So when my neighbor, Tracy, asked if I might be interested in joining a book club that was just starting out, I said sure! Before I moved to Texas from Illinois, I was in a book club that met for five years. We started out with about six women and grew to around a dozen or so, varying in attendance each month, as most groups do. I've been gone for over six years now but still stay in touch with most of them and always will.

I must admit, my book reading has been a bit off lately. Whether it's due to the fact that I 'read' at the computer so much during the day or that I tend to be a little fickle in my reading preferences, I'm not sure. Maybe a bit of both. I'm excited about the reading prospects this new group will bring.

My new book club met this past Wednesday and for our first selection we read Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet by Jamie Ford. I felt a little smug about his title being our first: Not only do I have an autographed copy of the book but I also heard Jamie speak when he was in town.

As the discussion got under way, I contributed little to the conversation and instead enjoyed hearing the women around me speak so passionately about the story. They talked about the characters they loved, the ones they didn't really relate to and others they felt made the tale come alive.

Then I imagined what might be debated if they had read my manuscript. Which characters would they find intriguing/irritating/forgettable? What issues would they discuss and possibly disagree on? Would they love or hate the ending? Would they wonder what happened to my characters after the story ended? Would they even care?

What I concluded, after pondering these questions, was: I have to up the stakes. I need to create more passion in this story--make the reader really care about how these characters relate to one another, make the people in the story come alive on the page and dwell in the mind of the reader. The reader needs to become invested in the outcome of the book enough to keep reading--even wish the story didn't end.

Time to get busy!

Use It or Lose It

2012-01-11T13:34:00.002-06:00

by Elizabeth

Confession time. But first, a clarification. Jealousy is a word that gets tossed around a lot, writers being jealous of others. I don't think that's really so true, though. Envy, sure. Jealousy? Not so much.

When emails were flying during Julie's getting an agent and then selling her book, I spent some time evaluating how I felt. Was I happy for her? Absolutely. Think she and her book deserved it? Without question. Was I jealous? Nope, not a bit--meaning, I did not wish her success on me instead of her. But envious? Well...

Scholars have apparently now divided envy into two distinct camps. The first traditional envy, the deadly one, is invidiousness--basically, the hateful, harmful, closer to jealous form of envy that movies and fiction often recount. The second form is benign envy, which has the benefit of being a positive motivational force.

For the most part, I have to say I wasn't envious. Sure, what Julie was going through was exactly what I'd hoped for in the past, what I hope for in the future. But at the moment she was getting representation and a book deal and foreign sales, was I truly envious? Did I wish it on myself, for myself? I can still say not really. Not because it's something I no longer want, but because I knew I hadn't yet done the work that would get me what she was getting. Not yet, not this time.

I've completed two manuscripts, submitted to agents, sent off a good number of fulls, and as I like to brag, I've been rejected by some of the best in the business. Often personally, always kindly. I still think both complete projects have merit, and maybe I never hit the right agent on the right day--who knows? At our last dinner together, we spent some time wondering about those manuscripts several of us were sending out into the world two or three or four years ago; publishing is a different animal now, and if those babies were trying to fly in this market, would they take wing? There's no telling, but I do wonder.

But I don't envy.

Well, I didn't. But now, I do, some. Not so much Julie's success, but now, her place. I envy the fact that she finished up her latest and was able to send it out. Not that she found it a home, but that she'd already done the work I've yet to complete and was therefore able to reach this first heady plateau.

The past few months I pulled out an old project, polished the dust off, and got to work adding to it. At our retreat, I worked on structure, which led to revelations about the story itself, which meant a deeper telling but also a lot more work. So far this year, more time has been spent inside my brain than with a pen, and that has engendered some of the envy I now find I harbor.

I wish I was done with this draft already. I envy those I know who have already completed the first draft and are into edits, the part of the show that I find easier to work through. Weirdly, I've learned I enjoy editing more than writing, though writing has its own unique satisfaction (and it also has to be gotten through to get to the fun-for-me part; and hey, I love dinner, not just dessert).

So envy, as a motivational force, to finish this draft and get on to the next step. The envy is there now, that's something I can't hide from myself, and am admitting here. Like it or not, to be cliche. And for another, this: I can use that envy for motivation to get the draft done, or I should lose it. The former sounds better, doesn't it?

New Year, New Books!

2012-01-09T06:00:00.002-06:00

by Joan

When you’ve been blogging for almost five years, coming up with fresh topics is challenging. But one thing that never gets old is discovering new books. And since my birthday and the holidays are both in December, I have started the New Year with a cache of new reads. Some came as pleasant surprises, others in boxes I handed to my husband to wrap and still others ordered on my Audible.com account as a gift to myself.

Here are a few titles that will keep me busy over the next several months!

Margaret Leroy’s Soldier’s Wife - I’m really enjoying this novel, set in Guernsey during World War II. If you loved The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society, you will enjoy this as well.

Jenna Blum’s Those Who Save Us – Two copies of this Holocaust novel showed up! I put it on my list and then forgot and ordered it on Audible. I’m enjoying listening to the dual timelines on audio very much.

Erika Robuck’s Receive Me Falling – I put this on my list in anticipation of Erika’s Hemingway’s Girl, coming in September 2012 from NAL/Penguin. Erika guest blogged here in July about why she writes about the past.

Sally Gunning’s The Widow’s War – Elizabeth suggested I would love Sally Gunning’s writing. I peeked at the first page and, wow, is she ever right.

Kyung-Sook Shin’s Please Look After Mom – my cousin emailed me this message on NYE: “Whatever you are reading or working on now, STOP. One way or another, get the book Please Look After Mom by Kyung-Sook Shin. Read it in one day, holy sh--.” Is that a recommendation or what?! Of course I ordered it and it’s next in line!

Susanna Kearsley’s Winter Sea – Kim recommended this and we have rarely disagreed on a book!

Kelly O’Connor McNees’ Lost Summer of Louisa May Alcott – My bookaholic sister recommended this one and we also share the same tastes.

Peter Ackroyd’s Thames – My college student son used to share my office and likely saw my Ackroyd collection, containing both non-fiction (London: The Biography never leaves my desk) and fiction, like Hawksmoor and The Clerkenwell Tales, which inspired me to write my current manuscript.

David Starkey’s Six Wives: The Queens of Henry VIII – Another title from my son, who knows my infatuation with British History, especially the bizarre Henry VIII.

What books did you get?

January! January! Slow down already!

2012-01-06T13:42:00.012-06:00

By Julie

My actual, official, from the editor's desk revisions on Calling Me Home are due 2/1. I'm madly working at finishing them. The last thing I'd want to do--especially on a first book!--is turn them in late. They WILL be finished. But this has been a little tricky due to them making landfall in the midst of the holidays.

I figured January would be a nice, leisurely month. I'd finish everything I didn't get to in December easily and without much panicking. (Mwah ha haaaa ...)

Then I remembered I'm going to the Pulpwood Queen's Annual Girlfriends' Weekend in Jefferson, Texas, smack dab in the middle of the month. I'm going as a civilian this year, having no physical book to promote just yet, and not even much of a twinkle in my eye for what it's going to look like or exactly when it's going to launch from St. Martin's Press. I signed up well before I got the book contract, having won a fundraiser auction for the weekend pass in support of a little girl who was burned in a July 4th fireworks accident. I had no idea at that point what January was going to look like!

I'm super excited about attending this conference. I know it will not only be crazy fun (and I mean crazy in the literal sense, not just in the superlative sense of the word--these Pulpwood Queens aren't shy about flying their crazy flags!), but a great opportunity to connect with book club leaders and members and so many authors I know online, but have never met in person.

But I'm also busy getting ready. Packing the regular stuff. Making travel plans with an author I'm chauffeuring from the airport. And yes, gathering costumes. Seriously! Circus-themed for one evening, Big Ball of Hair Pretty in Pink Prom themed for another. If I were a published author on the program, I'd need a clown costume, too! Phew!

Then, I got a wild hair at the last minute and decided to make business cards to hand out to any book clubbers or other authors I happen to talk to about Calling Me Home, in hopes they *might*, maybe, perhaps, possibly remember me in a year or so when the big book launch event comes to pass.

Then I got a wilder hair. I found, in this Etsy shop, the most gorgeous necklace, so perfectly

representing the story and themes of Calling Me Home, I ordered it at three o'clock in the morning Monday. This Monday. From the UK. I'm crossing my fingers it will arrive before the conference. See it down there on the right? See it!?!?! (Photo credit: Sam Gibson!)

I exchanged emails with the artist, Sam Gibson at Mrs. Gibson, and she was thrilled that out of all the jewelry in the world, I found hers to represent my story perfectly! I think it's a bit of Timing with a Capital T, as my longtime favorite musician, David Wilcox, likes to say. I'll wear the necklace any time I might have an opportunity to talk about the book. It's a pretty unique necklace, and I think people will ask about it, so I might as well make the most of it!

Then I got an even wilder hair. I don't have cover art for CMH, will likely not have it any time soon. So ... what to do on the business card? Some cheesy little stock graphic? Some photo with some significance for the story, but is here today, gone tomorrow?

OR ... do I ask Sam if I can use her absolutely gorgeous photo (art in itself!) of the absolutely gorgeous necklace on my cards in exchange for giving her work a little plug on the card and here and there. She graciously agreed! My editor and agent thought it was a fine idea for the interim between now and when I get official art, and it made a really pretty card I can't wait to see when UPS drops it on my porch early next week!

But can you believe I found an even wilder hair peeking out of my scalp? I bet you can.

I asked Sam, the jewelry maker, if she was able to make a duplicate necklace. She said, "No problem!" So ... I'm going to order a second and use it as a giveaway. When folks ever-so-kindly sign up for my mailing list for news, they'll be entered in a drawing for the necklace, to be conducted when I get my official cover. I thought it was a pretty nifty idea. We'll see how it works!

EDIT! DUH! I forgot to mention that the first name drawn will also receive a signed first edition of the book when it comes out--IF you are a U.S. resident. If a U.K. resident, a first edition of the U.K. version (possibly signed). If you are not a resident of the U.S. or U.K., you may still enter, but the drawing will be for the necklace only, provided I can ship it at a reasonable rate (at my discretion. Thanks for understanding!). I will likely also draw second and third names for books.

Needless to say, it's been a busy couple of weeks already, and it ain't over until the Circus lady sings. I'm on tenterhooks (but not painful ones!), thinking of all the work still ahead, and all the fun still ahead, and quite honestly, looking forward to the relative peace and calm of February first!

If you'd like to be entered for the chance to get one of these lovely necklaces, please follow the instructions below. I PROMISE NOT TO PESTER YOU with a million emails every five minutes. Just strategically issued ones when I have REALLY exciting news (like BIG BIG news), when you can pre-order Calling Me Home, and shortly before launch just to remind you it'll be out soon!

Signing up for the email list is the first, required entry. If you then also send me a friend request on Facebook, "like" my author page, or follow me on Twitter, you'll get an additional entry for each of those. If you're already doing those, it counts! And ... for a bonus, you can also give me your snail mail address. Not sure if or how I will use those, but it will be VERY sparing. Maybe a postcard shortly before book launch.

Here's the 411:

www.juliekibler.com (Go to "Contact Julie" page, send me your NAME and EMAIL ADDRESS through the form! And your snail mail if you'd like.)
Much easier ... just email me that info at: julie (at) julie kibler dot com
Facebook.com/juliekibler (Friend me!)
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Julie-Kibler/241506665891684 ("Like" me! Pretty, pretty please?!?!)
Follow me on Twitter at @juliekibler

Thank you so much. I promise to be very respectful of your trusting me with your information and time.

Hope everyone is having a very happy New Year so far! In the meantime, I'm excited ... and my hair is getting a little wilder every single day I pursue this published author adventure! I'll report back from the Pulpwood Queen's conference when I get a chance.

A Review of The Lost Wife by Alyson Richman

2012-01-04T08:16:00.001-06:00

By Kim

Synopsis:

In pre-war Prague, the dreams of two young lovers areshattered when they are separated by the Nazi invasion. Then, decades later,thousands of miles away in New York, there's an inescapable glance ofrecognition between two strangers. Providence is giving Lenka and Josef onemore chance. From the glamorous ease of life in Prague before the Occupation,to the horrors of Nazi Europe, The Lost Wife explores the power of firstlove, the resilience of the human spirit--and the strength of memory.

About the author:

Alyson Richman is the author of The Mask Carver's Son,Swedish Tango, The Last Van Gogh, and The Lost Wife. She loves to travel, cook,ride her yellow bicycle, and do ballet. She currently lives in New York withher husband and two children.

My review:

I want to start by telling you a story. I know this may seeman odd way to open a book review, but there’s reason for it.

My seventh grade language arts teacher was horrifiedto learn that our school district’s history curriculum would barely touch onthe Holocaust. She felt the only way to prevent such atrocities from happeningagain was to educate the younger generations. We read Elie Wiesel’s Night in class and learned to spell gestapo and crematorium. We watched unflinchingdocumentaries and movies about concentration camps. My amazing teacher also found several Holocaust survivors and spentat least a month’s worth of weekends shuttling groups of her students all over Maineso we could interview them. The woman I met was an Auschwitz survivor namedMarta, a towering workhorse of a woman with a kind, homely face. What struck memost was that even as she described beatings, rapes, starvation, and constantfear of execution, she prefaced everything by saying how lucky she was. She waslucky to be ugly. Pretty girls were sent to the front to “service” the S.S.soldiers and were shot if impregnated. (Her sister met this fate.) She waslucky to be big because she was strong and could do heavy labor. (Her frail motherwas gassed). The lack of emotion as she spoke left a lasting impression on me.

Since then I’ve seen every WWII movie and read every book onthe Holocaust that I can find. I learned about The Lost Wife from my friend,historical novelist Stephanie Cowell, who has never led me wrong in her book recommendations.At the end of the prologue my jaw dropped and I knew there was no way I could putthe book down until I learned what had happened to Lenka and Josef. By thirtypages in, I knew it would be on my 2012 Best Reads list. I devoured this novelduring every stolen moment alone, which took some creativity with twoenergetic kids home for Christmas break. The love story made me ache. The atrocities of Terezin and Auschwitz weredescribed in an understated and horrifically beautiful way. I could hear Marta’svoice behind Lenka’s, and it was like I discovered hell right along with them.

If you are drawn to WWII era books, The Lost Wife is a must-read. If you are asucker for unconventional romances, The Lost Wife is a must-read. If you want abook with characters who will haunt your dreams and make you Google “Terezin”at 3 AM…head to the nearest bookstore or download this book right away.

Have you read The Lost Wife? I’d love to hear your thoughts!You can leave comments here or (since some people have difficulty leavingcomments on Blogger) on What Women Write’s Facebook page.

An Interview with Naomi Benaron

2011-12-30T07:00:00.007-06:00

By Susan

A few months ago, while browsing upcoming titles I was prompted to check out Running the Rift, a new novel by Naomi Beneron. Spanning the years leading up to the Rwandan genocide in 1994, during which over 800,000 Tutsis were slaughtered by their own countrymen, Running the Rift follows the story of Jean Patrick Nkuba, a gifted runner on a quest to be the first Rwandan Olympic medalist in track. In a burst of enthusiasm for this upcoming work, I contacted Naomi and asked if I could interview her for this blog.

Luckily for us, she said yes. On Tuesday, January 3, Running the Rift will hit bookstores near you. Running the Rift is the 2010 winner of the Bellwether Prize, an award funded by Barbara Kingsolver to a debut author whose work focuses on issues of social justice.

Over the past few months, Naomi and I have developed a friendship and today I'm proud to introduce you to her. Here's a snippet of our conversation about her novel. I highly encourage you to pick it up at your local bookstore on Tuesday. And if you leave a comment on this post, you'll be automatically entered to win a signed copy from Naomi!

SIP: Tell me about your first visit to Rwanda and how it affected your life. What compelled you to go? Why did you continue to return?

NB: My first visit to Rwanda was serendipitous. I wanted to write a short story that involved someone from Africa who was fleeing war and who was an athlete, and I learned that a Burundian Olympic athlete was living in Tucson. I was meeting him for lunch, and when I told this to my dog trainer, she went crazy. She was in love with Rwanda and had been invited there for Roz Carr’s 90th birthday. Roz was an American expat who had spent most of her adult life in East Africa and had an orphanage for child survivors of the genocide. My dog trainer invited me to go with her, and I never looked back.

From the moment I stepped off the plane, the beauty of both country and people affected me profoundly. Here was a nation that had been brought to its knees by the most horrific events, and yet I had never seen such open and lovely smiles. I grew up in the shadows of the Holocaust—my mother lost many in her family—and so I was naturally drawn to the story of the genocide. When I discovered a scattering of human bones on an early morning walk by Lake Kivu, I knew I would have to write the story of the bones. I kept coming back for research and because I met so many people who became close friends. In some sense, whenever my foot touches ground in Rwanda and I see, smell and hear the colorful chaos of the countryside, I feel as if I have come home.

SIP: Jean Patrick became very real to me as I read RTR. Was he based on anyone you know? How did his character develop, change, and perhaps even surprise you as you wrote the story?

NB: Jean Patrick is a mixture of imagination and several people I know, including me. Patrick Nduwimana, the Burundian Olympic 800 meter runner, gave me much inspiration, as did my Rwandese friends Jean Nganji and Mark Bizimana. Many of their anecdotes and quirky personality traits morphed into Jean Patrick’s character. As a scientist and competitive triathlete and runner for many years, I contributed much of my own passion and driving forces to his soul. For me, writing is very much like watching a movie. In my best moments, I turned Jean Patrick loose on the page and let him run, figuratively and literally. I think what surprised me the most was the relationships that developed between Jean Patrick and the other characters in the book. And of course there’s his love story, which was continually taking unexpected twists and turns. That still makes me cry when I think of it.

SIP: I found Jean Patrick's coach to be one of the most interesting characters—almost as though he was the typical Rwandan (Hutu) at this time. How did his character come to be?

NB: Interestingly, Rutembeza was the character who came most easily to me. I can’t tell you why, but he walked across the football field where Jean Patrick first saw him fully formed in my mind. I didn’t want some purely evil caricature of a man because the nature of the genocide was so complex, with neighbors killing neighbors: families they had shared meals with, done business with, gone to school with. That was one of the questions that first haunted me and that continues to haunt me: How can someone so lose sight of his humanity that he can kill neighbors and friends and even, in some cases, his wife and children? In Rwanda, there was so much propaganda that poisoned people’s minds, and it began with the false history that children learned in primary school. As I wrote the novel, what surprised me the most was Rutembeza’s depth of feeling for Jean Patrick. But then, as aggravating as Jean Patrick is, how can you not love him?

SIP: As I read RTR, I frequently had to stop, drop everything, and pick up my running shoes. Running helped clear my head of the genocide that I knew was coming as I read. Tell me how your own running life impacted the writing of RTR.

NB: Like Jean Patrick, I do my best thinking when I am running and running hard. As you say, it clears the mind. For me, that exquisite pain of being on the edge of what you can endure is a form of deep meditation, and as such, it opens the channel to the most creative parts of my brain. Running is part of my soul; it is a necessity, not a luxury. Right now I am injured—I can’t run at all—and I feel as though I am missing a limb or a chunk of my heart.

SIP: You won the 2010 Bellwether Prize for Fiction. Congratulations! How instrumental was the prize in bringing RTR to publication?

NB: First of all, thank you! Truthfully, I don’t know if RTR would have ever seen the light of day if it hadn’t been for the Bellwether, and I am eternally grateful to Barbara Kingsolver for having the prize and for selecting RTR. I am also eternally grateful to all the wonderful staff at Algonquin for all their hard work in bringing the novel to fruition. I had shopped the manuscript around quite a bit, and although several agents and editors expressed interest, in the end, no one would take it. I think it spelled danger on many fronts: a risky subject, a white woman writing from the point of view of a Rwandese male, questions of commercial viability. One very well known agent told me straight out, “This novel is not marketable.”

SIP: Tell me a little about your journey. You've published many short stories and poetry before committing to a novel, yet before obtaining your MFA from Antioch University, you held advanced degrees from MIT and Scripps Institute and worked as a scientist. How did your prior career affect and shape your writing career?

NB: Both my parents were physicians, and it was always assumed I would follow in their footsteps and be a doctor. Everyone, it seems, in my father’s family is a physician. However, I seem to have been born with a gypsy nature—my mother always told me I had been left on the doorstep by gypsies—and I roamed around quite a bit before committing seriously to college. My second try at college, I started as a premed major but then fell in love with geology and physics. The poetry of science fascinates me; I love the way science makes sense out of the seeming chaos of the universe, and I love that so many stories of that order are swirling around under our noses. I could never separate writing from science; as a scientist, my writing soul kept knocking at the door, and now that I am a writer, science has camped out in my lines. One informs the other, and I don’t think that will change.

SIP: What is the most important thing a writer should look for in an agent? What about in an editor and publishing house?

NB: A writer needs a good fit in an agent, and that will obviously be different for every person. In any case, you need an agent who is personally and passionately committed to your work and who will be willing to go to bat for you. In my case, I was looking for an agent who connected personally to my work and who was a hands-on editor. I found that in Dan Lazar at Writers House. I very much appreciated his input with RTR, and am looking forward to his editorial wisdom with my novel in progress. I love that I can tell him about a book I have fallen for and he will go out and read it. And it works both ways; I have found some great books through his recommendations.

As far as an editor and publishing house, I can’t say enough about Kathy Pories, my editor, and about Algonquin. You hear so many horror stories about publishing houses that don’t want to do any editing and that don’t invest in marketing, but Algonquin has supported me at every turn. They love the books they publish, and publishing those books is a labor of love. I guess what I’m saying is to look for an editor and a publishing house that will treat your book like a baby rather than a piece of property.

SIP: Here's my favorite question for authors: If you could go back in time and give yourself advice about your writing journey, what would it be? Would you do anything differently?

NB: That’s an interesting question! If I could reshape my history any way I wanted, I would spend a few years living in Rwanda, and I would learn to speak Kinyarwanda fluently, because I believe you can’t know a people without knowing the language. Writing about a culture that was so different from my own was extremely challenging, and I still worry that I haven’t gotten everything right. I think that is a given, and I think I have to come to terms with the fact that as long as I have treated Rwandese culture with honesty, humility, and respect, I have accomplished what I set out to accomplish: to bring Rwanda to life for an audience that in general knows very little about the country, her people or her history.

SIP: You and I have both worked in Africa—me in Ghana with trafficked children, and you with genocide survivors in Rwanda. Of course, we could sit down with a cup or two of coffee and talk for hours about the continent—what we love, what is the greatest area of need, and the unexpected joys of the things we’ve learned from friends there. If possible, could you tell our readers the most important thing you have learned from your time in Rwanda?

NB: Another good question! When I first went to Rwanda, I thought I was telling a story about genocide, but the more I got to know the country and the people, the more I came to realize I was telling the story of the resilience of the Rwandese spirit and about their power and strength to rise above the most unspeakable horror. The country itself is a wonderful metaphor for this. The first time I went, it was still reeling from the war; there were burnt out shells of buildings everywhere, bullet holes in walls, orphaned children roaming the streets. Each time I went, there was more rebuilding, and it extended further and further into the countryside. New houses rose from the ruins of the old, and the signs of abject poverty disappeared.

Now, even most of the street children have found homes and have been given a future. Really, the country seems reborn, like a phoenix literally rising from the ashes. I have to give a great deal of credit to the government for this. No one was willing to give Rwanda a hand after the genocide—why invest in such a risky business venture?—and yet, President Kagame rolled up his sleeves and set about building a new country by himself. And the country reflects the spirit of the people. I am continually amazed at the love, the strength, and the energy of the Rwandese people. When they say never again, they mean it, and they will do whatever it takes to make the statement a reality. By the way, I am going to hold you to your word on that cup of coffee; I look forward to it!

SIP: I know you are nearing completion of your next book. Can you share with our readers a little about the next Naomi Benaron title?

I wish it were true! I am probably about halfway through an early draft of my next novel. The working title is Fragments of Beauty, and it’s about three generations of Holocaust survivors. The grandmother is a survivor of Terezín and Auschwitz. She survived because she was a dancer. Her granddaughter is also a dancer, and she wants to tell her grandmother’s story through a hip hop dance production. Not many people know the story of Terezín, how it was the one camp where the arts were allowed to flourish and how the arts gave the people the spirit to survive and to resist. Once more, it’s resilience and defiance that interests me. I learned it from my mother.

SIP: What's on your bedside table right now?

NB: I’m reading The Line by Olga Grushin, MetaMaus by Art Spiegelman, and Steal a Pencil for Me by Jaap Polak and Ina Soep, which is a collection of their love letters from Bergen-Belsen and Westerbork. I need to find a new poetry collection to read as well. Poetry keeps me balanced and on fire.

SIP: Thank you, Naomi! Readers: leave a comment for your chance to win an autographed copy of Running the Rift, and be sure to pick up a copy on Tuesday, January 3rd!

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a copy of the book mentioned above gratis in the hope that I would mention it on this blog. Regardless, I only recommend books I've read and believe will appeal to our readers. In accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising” I am making this statement.

New Beginnings

2011-12-28T07:12:00.005-06:00

by Elizabeth

This is my last post of this year (well, duh), and I had planned a big gala animal expose involving felines and fowl, and I promise to write that post soon. But this morning, with my big coffee cup before me and my son gleefully Star Warring in the next room, I'm feeling contemplative, and so frosting and feathers will have to await another day.

Recently, somewhere (and I guess this is total copyright infringement*), I read that no matter how old we get, September always feels like a fresh start, as does January. I'm no different than the woman who wrote that in that regard, even though Texas sends kids to school in the heat of August rather than the more civilized after-Labor Day that harbored my end-of-summer. New Year's is no different. It feels fresh, new, rife with potential (if only one could escape the battering of cliche I just succumbed to myself). A chance. Opportunity. To do things right that might have fallen down, or behind, or even off the year before.

Anyone who's been reading this blog the last few months knows there are exciting things going on here at WWW. Agents and contracts and manuscripts nearing completion, things we were all hopeful for when we began the blog. I'm actually not in that class right at this minute; although I was one of the "getting close to finishing" crowd, my WIP has taken a turn and I have a lot of work ahead of me. Which is a good thing, in fact; the changes required are making it a richer, better, more satisfying story, both to write and hopefully read, and I am not yet mourning the tens of thousands of words that are about to land in the trash file. They'll be replaced with better ones, and for that I am glad. But it's still exciting to be in the midst of these women who are marching toward publication, and the guy at the back of the band is still in that number. I'm not counting myself out, not by a long shot. Someone has to be last, right? If it turns out to be me, well, then it just means I have five potential bestselling authors who might be willing to blurb this caboose.

But it is a fresh start, and one for which I am hopeful, and positive, and crossing my fingers. I have a semi-major birthday in a few months, and like September and January, those milestone personal holidays do something to us, make us ambitious and eager. Unpublished writers have to rely on themselves for deadlines, and I guess this is one for me, which is a good thing, because like many of us, I'm not the best at putting the gun to my own head. (Ew.)

Three days from now the calendar will turn. New possibilities await. But that is always true, with every tick of the clock. Somehow, though, for so many of us, that last page of the calendar--really, that first page of the calendar--harbors hope and determination and promise.

Here's to a great, a wonderful, an amazing and successful and accomplished 2012. To all of us here, and everyone reading. Let's go.

*but not really

Traditions

2011-12-26T11:51:00.002-06:00

By Pamela

Since my family lives away from relatives and we pledged as a very young family to not travel at Christmas, we've been absent from many traditions others enjoy--going to grandparents' houses to exchange gifts with cousins, attending Christmas Eve service with extended family members in tow and the usual celebrations that come with large groups of people.

But we've carved our own traditions--building a gingerbread house, watching Elf, attending church for the candlelight service and having all three kids sleep in one room on Christmas Eve. (Even though they are 19, 17 and 8 years of age, they bunked together not only that night but last night as well so they could enjoy a Harry Potter movie marathon.)

One of their favorite traditions is a Christmas morning scavenger hunt that started the year we fashioned the space beneath our basement stairs into an art studio for our oldest two, complete with a fold-down desk, supplies, a bulletin board and working light. The only way to get the boys into the space was to send them on an adventure.

Yesterday, our girl spotted the first clue next to the nativity and plate of Santa cookies. "Look! The first clue!" she shouted.

The middle child turned to me and said, "I didn't think you'd remember to do it."

"Did you forget about it?" I asked.

"No, I just knew you were tired last night and I didn't want to remind you to write clues if you were wanting to go to bed," he said.

I smiled. "I wouldn't forget that." And off they went, racing through the house to find clue after clue until they arrived at the last destination--most of the clues cryptic enough that you'd have to be One of Us to understand their meanings.

The final clue read: If you were Mom's feet, this would be your view most days of the year. Of course, they all raced into my office to find, under my desk, a pile of presents--one apiece and the last gifts of Christmas.

A week from now, we'll be gearing up for school again, and my feet will return to their spot under my desk. But after I sign off here, I will head to the kitchen to make lunch, do some laundry, play a round of Boggle with my son, read Oogy with my daughter, and just enjoy my family. (For the story of Oogy, watch below.)

I hope the holidays found you surrounded by loved ones and ready to embark on whatever adventures the New Year brings.

Happy Holidays!

2011-12-23T05:00:00.000-06:00

The contributors of What Women Write wish everyone a HappyHoliday! We will return to our regular posting schedule on Monday, December 26^th.

‘A Summer in Europe’ Adventure: Vienna Waits for Us…

2011-12-21T10:00:00.003-06:00

Julie here. Today, we're delighted to have Marilyn Brant as our guest at What Women Write. I met Marilyn in October in Portland at a writer's retreat, and was instantly drawn to her warmth and sense of humor and spent lots of time chatting with her--and even ended up sharing one segment of our return flights. She sent me home with an advance review copy of A Summer in Europe. I was delighted to have a chance to read it before it released in early December and thrilled when she agreed to be our guest here on What Women Write.

Publisher's Weekly writes:

Brant’s newest…distinguishes itself with a charismatic leading man and very funny supporting cast, especially the wonderful elderly characters with their resonant message about living life to the fullest.

And from Romantic Times:

Brant’s charming and engaging tale will allow readers to immerse themselves in the magic and beauty of Europe along with the characters. Although the descriptions of the scenery are amazing, the development of the characters and their unique personalities are what really make this novel shine. What an enjoyable escape!

Marilyn, welcome! I think you'll be pleased to hear that my mother got her hands on my copy of A Summer in Europe last weekend, and polished it off in about 24 hours. You got the "Julie's Mom's Stamp of Approval." She visited many of the destinations in your novel many years ago with a friend and raved about how much fun it was to revisit them in your story!

Here's Marilyn!

Many thanks to Julie for inviting me to visit What Women Write. I'm so delighted to be here today!

After about twelve blog stops so far, some of you may already know that I’ve been celebrating the release of my third women's fiction book, A Summer in Europe, by taking a journey around the Web and talking about some of my favorite European sites—ones that specifically appear in the new novel. I’d hoped to share a few personal memories of places I loved and some of the ways in which these fascinating cities inspired elements in the book.

This story is about a woman named Gwendolyn Reese, who’s bright intellectually, but hasn’t experienced much of life despite having just turned thirty. That’s about to change when she gets a month-long tour through Europe as a birthday gift from her eccentric Aunt Bea…and her aunt's Sudoku-and-Mahjongg Club. They all fly from Dubuque, Iowa, to Rome, tour through Italy, Southern France, Switzerland, Hungary and then cross the border into Austria on their way up to Paris, Brussels and London. By the time they’ve reached Vienna, Gwen’s been on the tour long enough to have gotten to know quite a few of her travel mates. In some cases, her first impressions were not quite accurate. In others, well, it turns out she was right to be on her guard!

In my opinion, the middle leg of a Grand

European tour is a whole lot like the middle segment of drafting a novel. You have a solid start and a general sense of direction. You’re getting into the swing of things and know the people/characters you’re dealing with fairly well, but there are still a lot of unanswered questions. Still waaayyyy too many loose ends to even think of winding down such a massive undertaking. So many miles remain, and the only way to get from where you are now to where you’re headed is through … whether it’s writing scene-by-scene for a book or traveling city-to-city for a tour.

For me, the very real Vienna has been a midpoint on two different backpacking journeys. I was always aware when I arrived just how far I’d already traveled and, likewise, how far I had yet to go. Since I write chronologically and go through a similar experience when working on a novel, I found myself quite literally structuring the story trip the way I might have structured a real one: The stages of travel and the stages of my writing about it were mirrored at nearly every step. It was almost more metacognition than I could handle sometimes! LOL.

Like Budapest, Hungary, Vienna is a city on the edge of eastern and western Europe. I found myself constantly reminded of that, especially in the architectural design and the colors of some of the buildings. The roof of the Hofburg Palace (once the Imperial Residence of the Habsburgs and now the official home of Austria’s president), for instance, is particularly striking to me. I tried to explain in the book things like the vastness of the city—a capital packed with museums, famous buildings and gardens. My characters got to visit a number of places I once went to, like Schloss Schönbrunn, Beethoven’s grave in the Central Cemetery, St. Stephen’s Cathedral and the major park, the Prater.

And, because my heroine Gwen has great affection for music (she privately wishes she would have learned to play the violin better), I couldn’t ignore the obvious: Music is like a heartbeat in Vienna. It’s simply a part of life there, with music students practicing on the pedestrian walkways and various professional shows at theaters all over the city. I was often struck by how much respect the Viennese have for musicianship in general, and how well even the kids on the sidewalks could play their instruments.

But even aptitude wasn’t always a requirement. I play a little piano (very little, incidentally, and rarely well) but, after hearing so much music in town, I couldn’t keep myself from fooling around with the black grand piano sitting in a room off to the side of our hotel’s lobby. The place was deserted—just the one guy behind the desk in the other room, and it was mid-afternoon so most guests were out sightseeing. But within sixty seconds of me starting to play some pseudo-classical tune I was making up on the spot, an older woman sat down in the corner to listen to me (seriously?!) and the desk clerk left his post (why?!) and stood against the wall watching me and contemplating—I soon found out—what composer I was attempting to play. “Mahler?” he asked, confused but very politely. “Who wrote that?” Ha! My piano playing skills don’t warrant this kind of attention AT ALL, trust me, but the attitude of the city had seeped in. And it wasn’t about me or even about musicians, it was about a love of the music itself.

I’m no longer surprised that Billy Joel chose Vienna as the setting of a song—one of my favorites from The Stranger album. I’ve read some of what he’s written about it and his inspiration for it—definitely it’s a city at the crossroads. And I think of his lyrics often when I’m in the midst of writing a book because they address the need some of us have to get more done and to be further along with projects or with personal growth than we are. At one point he sings: “Slow down, you’re doing fine. You can’t be everything you wanna be before your time, although it’s so romantic on the borderline tonight…tonight…” If I could have advised my heroine on anything, it would have been to follow Billy’s wise words.

Finally, I would be remiss to rave about Vienna and not mention a delicious desert we had there called Sachertorte, which made a strong enough impression on me that I had to include it in the story. It’s a rich chocolate cake with apricot filling—so scrumptiously good it would’ve been an authorial crime to let Gwen traipse into the city and not share a piece with someone she rather likes. (It’s so romantic on the borderline…) Check out this recipe if you don’t believe me!

If you’re a travel lover like me and would like to join me on my book tour/grand European adventure, the itinerary includes:

Friday 11/25: Rome at Magical Musings
Monday 11/28: Pompeii at SOS Aloha
Tuesday 11/29: Isle of Capri at The Stiletto Gang
Wednesday 11/30: Venice at Girlfriends Book Club
Thursday 12/1: Budapest at Women's Fiction Writers
Friday 12/2: Florence at Writer Unboxed
Monday 12/5: London at Austen Authors
Tuesday 12/6: Salzburg at Robin Bielman's Blog
Wednesday 12/7: Lake Como at Brant Flakes
Monday 12/12: French Riviera at Get Lost in a Story
Thursday 12/15: Pisa at Fly High
Wednesday 12/21: Vienna at What Women Write
Friday 12/30: Verona at Brant Flakes
Monday 1/9: Brussels at Uni-Verse-City
Tuesday 1/10: Paris at Chick Lit Central

Any updates to the travel stops or new sites where there are interviews or giveaways can be found on my website--I hope you'll join me for a few other cities on the tour!! And if you'd like to read an excerpt from A Summer in Europe, which is a Literary Guild, BOMC2 and Rhapsody Book Club featured alternate selection for December 2011, you can find one here.

Have any of you ever visited Austria? Ever seen a film with Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy called “Before Sunrise,” which was filmed in Vienna?

Many thanks to Julie and to all of you for the visit!

The Camellia Network

2011-12-19T06:00:00.002-06:00

by Joan

In September I had the pleasure of meeting the talented and lovely Vanessa Diffenbaugh at an author talk in Highland Park. After finishing her captivating book, I reviewed her bestselling novel, The Language of Flowers.

Today I’m thrilled to introduce her to our readers.

Joan: Since debuting in August, your gorgeous novel The Language of Flowers has hit numerous bestseller lists, been blurbed by big names in literature, and has snagged a movie deal. It would have been easy for you to sit back and collect your accolades and royalties, but you decided to do something very different. You’ve started this amazing non-profit, The Camellia Network. Tell our readers about your mission.

Vanessa: I’d love to! When I sold my book in the manner I did—at auction, and in 40 countries!—I realized very quickly that I would have a platform from which to speak about the challenges youth face when they are transitioning out of foster care. And as I started to speak about this issue, I heard the same response over and over again: I didn’t know this was happening! Followed more often than not by the words: How can I help?

I had recently been involved with a group of women that had helped a young man transition from foster care to college. We had arranged an early move-in to the dorms, purchased gift cards at a grocery store for the weeks before the cafeteria would open, and registered him at Target for everything he would need his freshman year. Because there were over 20 of us, no one had to spend very much money and we were able to make a huge impact on this young man’s life.

As I started my book tour I began to wonder—what if we could implement something like this on a national scale? I believed strongly—and still do—that the “aging out” issue is a solvable problem. While 20,000 youth a year may seem daunting, if you break it down by community it isn’t very many. In my hometown of Chico, California, less than 100 youth age out every year. So we launched Camellia Network, whose mission is to activate networks of citizens in every community to provide the critical support young people need to transition from foster care to adulthood. Our pilot program served 50 youth in 12 states, and we are trying to fulfill their registries by Christmas. You can find a youth to support at www.camellianetwork.org.

Joan: In The Language of Flowers Camellia means My Destiny is in Your Hands. Read literally, it’s a sorrowful plea for help, yet the moniker’s complexity and power become clear when one considers the following quote on your website: “We have named Camellia Network to emphasize our belief in the interconnectedness of humanity, a reminder that the destiny of our nation lies in the hands of our youngest citizens.” One of my favorite passages in your book touched on this very theme, where Victoria imagines what her world of flowers could accomplish:

“…would alter the quantities of anger, grief, and mistrust growing in the earth on a massive scale. Farmers would uproot fields of foxglove to plant yarrow, the soft clusters of pink, yellow, and cream the cure to a broken heart.”

You’ve captured the interconnectedness of humanity exactly. Did you know in your first drafts you’d be sharing your message this way?

Vanessa: No, not at all. When I started writing The Language of Flowers I had a very simple idea: I wanted to tell a story about a young woman who had trouble learning to love and attach because of her history in foster care. I didn’t even plan to write a book about flowers, but when the character of Victoria came to me she was speaking through flowers. The rest of the book grew very organically from this premise—Elizabeth, the vineyard, the flower farm—none of this was premeditated, but rather became the background (and often the driving force) of Victoria’s emotional journey.

Joan: I loved reading about the 95-year-old Dallas women who willed you her book on herbal symbolism. Wow! Tell us about the overwhelming response you’ve received on book tours and in media (social and print!).

Vanessa: That was the best moment I had on my book tour. She was lovely; so smart and passionate about flowers, and thrilled that she had found someone who shared her passion. It felt like meeting an old friend, and I wished I’d had more time with her. And she actually isn’t the only one who has sent me a book! There is another older woman from the UK who has a small book on the Language of Flowers that she wants to send me. I am happy to be the one to carry this interest into the next generation, and will treasure both books.

Joan: As your book has gained worldwide attention in so many countries, have you been able to garner attention for The Camellia Network at an international level or does foster care feel mostly like an American issue? Has there been any talk of the organization expanding to any kind of international effort. (Thanks to Julie Kibler for this question!)

Vanessa: There has been quite a bit of interest, especially from the UK, which has a foster care system very similar to ours (with tragic outcomes for youth leaving care that are nearly identical to our own). We see the Camellia Network model as one that could work internationally, but we are still in the very early stages of our organization and know it is important to build and establish ourselves here before expanding.

Joan: I was very moved by the profiles on the Camellia Network website and am happy to fulfill a youth's registry by Christmas.

I imagine between book touring, non-profit work, and raising children, it must be difficult to find time to work on your next novel. Will we be rewarded with another book any time soon?

Vanessa: I can finally answer that question with an honest: YES. I write every morning, but for a long time I was having trouble focusing—there is just so much going on in my life now! When I wrote The Language of Flowers I was home full time with two teenagers and two babies. So while I didn’t have much time—babies and teenagers are certainly demanding—I didn’t have anything occupying my mental space. Now, with Camellia Network and obligations for The Language of Flowers in so many countries, I have had trouble turning all that off and sinking into my new book. But I can finally say I am making progress, and enjoying it!

Joan: Fantastic! Now, about that movie deal… Many of us at WWW choose actors to represent our characters, to help us picture them as we write. If casting were up to you, which actors would you like to see in the main roles?

Vanessa: Oh, I am the worst person in the world at answering this question! I don’t watch enough movies to stay on top of all the new (especially the young) actors. Also, even though the teams at Fox 2000 and Red Wagon Productions have been incredible at keeping me in the loop and asking for my input, I have a hard time believing I will actually have any say in actors or actresses—so I try not to think much about it!

Thanks to Vanessa for sharing her story and her time. You can also follow The Camellia Network on FaceBook.

Your Wild and Precious Life

2011-12-16T13:00:00.002-06:00

By Susan

As some of you may know, a dear friend of mine was diagnosed with brain cancer about a year ago. I blogged about him here. This spring, after the surgery to remove his astrocytoma, I went to Austin, Texas. I stayed with him for a few days while he--unable to drive, work, or run--walked and talked his way into recovery.

We walked together--this marathoner and me--for miles and miles each day. And he talked. About his cancer, about his brain. About his daughter and wife. About the differences between how his brain worked now as opposed to before. Pre-brain-cancer and post-brain-cancer, for some people, is never the same place. My friend was unbelievably blessed with a skilled surgeon and the prayers of many to come out of the operating room as the same man he'd been going in. As we walked, he found that words appeared differently, or sometimes, didn't show up at all--when he summoned them. He realized that one side of his body wasn't as strong as it had been before.

But otherwise? He was miraculously and beautifully well.

When I prepared to leave his home, I noticed that the refrigerator was covered in word magnets. I left my mark by piecing together, word by word, a simple Mary Oliver quote from her poem The Summer Day:

"Tell me, what is it you plan to do / with your one wild and precious life?"

I thought I was leaving the message for him, yet perhaps I left it for me. He'd been adamant that he'd lived his life the way he wanted, and had no regrets--either before or after the brain cancer. Could I say the same?

Since his surgery, the Mary Oliver line has reappeared in my own brain often. I became a stay-at-home mom, completed my manuscript, The Angels' Share, and got my health back in order--including the addition of running to my routine. I didn't want to wait on a scary diagnosis before getting my diet and body in shape. I didn't want something like cancer to shake me up enough to finally force me to finish my manuscript. And I didn't need a crisis to tell me that I needed to be home with my children, probably more than anything else in the world. When I thought about what I needed to do with my one wild and precious life? That was easy. I needed to live it deliberately.

Overall, my friend made a miraculous recovery. Last weekend, he shattered his personal record for the half marathon at one hour and twenty-three minutes (That's a 6:19 mile pace.) He already qualified for the Boston Marathon and will run on Team Livestrong this spring with other cancer survivors.

At the same time, his story reminds me that life is strange with its twists and turns, and is sometimes less believable than fiction. His wife of almost a decade left him soon after his cancer surgery. She filed for divorce and gave him primary custody of their four-year-old daughter. Which goes to show you that life--even when it is its most miraculous and spectacular--can still kick you in the pants. Even when you think you've beaten cancer.

Hopefully, we don't need our lives flip-flopped in order for us to make better choices. Hopefully we can find our dreams, love our families, and finish the damn book--right, writers? without cancer and a divorce to scare us to death.

Tell me, what is it that you plan to do / with your one wild and precious life?

I went into 2011 with big plans. Somehow, I accomplished most of them, but it wasn't on accident. What does 2012 hold for me, for you, and for my friend? We don't know. We can only live as deliberately as possible.

And keep running.

What Needs to Get Done

2011-12-14T07:00:00.000-06:00

by Elizabeth

It's the most wonderful time of the year.

Yeah, well, maybe.

While the holiday season (we are equal opportunity here at WWW) can bring myriad joys, each of the six of us is a mother, and all mothers can tell you that the holidays bring work! A lot of it is, sure, wonderful, joyful, and all that jazz. But it's still work. I spent a good portion of today making homemade toffee, marking my fifteenth year stirring together butter and sugar to 290 degrees before pouring it out into pretzel or cookie or almond lined pans, then dumping chocolate on top. After it set, I broke it into pieces, bagged up portions, and then tied on ribbons for gifts for teachers and neighbors and friends.

I hit the UPS store to mail off packages as well, spent some time wrapping, and then, not holiday related, but end-of-season, hauled a few of my daughter's friends over to the theater so they could watch her latest production. Followed by dinner out to celebrate, and I'd like to apologize once more to our waiter for the mess and noise. (At least I didn't have to clean it up. I tipped the guy extra, I promise.)

There's just a lot of stuff. That needs to get done. And one way or another, even if it means replaying the scene in Yours, Mine, and Ours, where Henry Fonda finishes assembling the last bike as children pile down the staircase on Christmas morning, it gets done. Every year. Maybe that's part of the magic of the holidays.

As writers, we sit down day after day, and hope for the magic, sometimes called the muse, to arrive. Sometimes it does, and sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes it doesn't simply because we never find the time to sit.

But why is that? Every year, the candy gets made, the gifts get wrapped, the magic happens. What needs to get done, gets done.

Meanwhile, I've sighed over my fingernails, wishing for a few spare minutes to paint them, or even better, visit a salon for a manicure, which I haven't done since June. I look at the pile of books beside my bed with longing, wishing for a stretch of hours to simply read. My dog cries, begging for a trip to the park, and settling for a session with the laser pointer. These things should get done, would be wonderful to get done, deserve to get done, but don't get done.

My book needs to get done. Not only that, my writing in general needs to get done, every day.

We are mothers here, all six of us. We get things done. We even get books done. But what mothers learn is that what needs to get done, is what gets done, and what can slide often does.

But our books, as writers, need to get done. A hard lesson mothers have to learn, and hopefully all do sooner rather than later, is that we must take time for ourselves. Our books, in the writing stage, are very much for us. We dream of readers, plan for futures, but the writing itself is something that is essential to our writers' souls, and it needs to get done.

A gift to ourselves, as mothers and writers: Get it done. It needs to get done, it deserves to get done, and if we can wrap another gift and make another pan of candy, we can get it done.

Hooking ... not as easy as you'd think

2011-12-12T17:00:00.000-06:00

By Pamela

Before I could tie my own shoes, I could bait a hook. Before I learned to drive a car, I learned to row a boat. Long before I became adept in the kitchen, I filleted fish on a pier. Such was the life of a kid who spent summers at the lake.

Me with my brother and sister:
learning the art of hooking at an early age.

But hooking fish and hooking readers are two different skills. Fish are pretty easy. A fat juicy worm, a shiny lure. Readers? They tend to be a little more particular.

At our recent retreat, my goal was to improve my hook. But before I could fully embrace the challenge, I had to know more about what the heck I was doing.

Author Nathan Bransford says a book's hook is "the quest and the central conflict, described as succinctly as possible, designed to make someone want to read more." Every novel, he says, is a quest--a journey that takes the reader from the beginning of the story to the end. The conflict is what your character must overcome to get from points A to B. Put them both together and you have it. A hook!

In Noah Lukeman's The First Five Pages, he devoted an entire chapter to hooks. (Chapter 14, if you're reading along.) Literary agent Donald Maass talks about hook in Writing the Breakout Novel. In fact, you'd be hard-pressed to find any credible book on writing that didn't address The Hook.

But the term 'hook' is thrown about pretty generously. Hooks open chapters, end chapters, begin paragraphs and generally appear throughout a novel. They're what keep us reading when we're really too tired to do so. We just can't put the book down, darn hooks!

What concerned me about my manuscript was not the hooks that appear throughout my story. It was THE HOOK. That one element that makes my book The One someone will want to read. It's what pulls readers in even before they decide to purchase the book. It's the bait that gets them committed to spending hours of their precious time immersed in the story.

A hook is sometimes apparent in a title. For example, Nathan says Snakes on a Plane reveals the movie's hook. Quest? Get the snakes off the plane. Conflict? Ahem, snakes + plane. Conflict, natch. In Moneyball, the hook is: Baseball manager on a budget takes an unprecedented approach to building a winning team. Showtime's Dexter has a unique hook: A Miami police forensics expert moonlights as a vigilante serial killer. Dexter's quest? Catch and kill criminals. Conflict: keeping those close to him from finding out what he does after hours.

For me, my hook was present in the story; it just didn't become known until chapter four. Maybe even five. So making my story's hook stronger simply meant moving chapters around (and tweaking the details) so that the hook now appears in chapter two--the beginning of chapter two. And who knows? Before I'm done, it might become chapter one.

For now the challenge continues: keeping the reader involved in the story so that he or she stays with it. The only way to do that is to raise the conflict, keeping the line taut. And as a result, land my fish once he's caught--all the way to the end.

Our Best Reads of 2011

2011-12-09T05:00:00.001-06:00

By Kim

All of us at What Women Write are compulsive readers as well as writers. As 2011 comes to a close we thought it may be fun to share the books we loved most this year. As you will see, our taste is varied. There are only two books we have all agreed on. The first was The Help by Kathryn Stockett, and the second is a book that won't hit the bookstores until sometime in 2013 - namely Calling Me Home by our very own Julie Kibler!

Have you read any of the books we mention below? We’d love to hear your thoughts! Inspired to run to your nearest bookstore and pick one up? We’d love to hear that, too.

Susan Poulos

State of Wonder by Ann Patchett- (probably one of the best books I have ever read.)
The Art of Fielding by Chad Harbach
The Tiger's Wife by Tea Obrecht
Bent Road by Lori Roy
The Solitude of Prime Numbers by Paolo Giordano
The Imperfectionists by Tom Rachman

I would classify all of them as literary fiction, although Lori's is probably considered a literary thriller. I also think that all except for State of Wonder are debuts... imagine that!!

Kim Bullock

The Winter Sea by Susanna Kearsley - I devoured this historical mystery in two days!

Clara and Mr. Tiffany by Susan Vreeland – I picked this one up because I love everything by Susan Vreeland, and this one happens to take place in NYC in the same year my great-grandfather was there. He even knew Mr. Tiffany. Clara was unforgettable – very ahead of her time.

Next to Love by Ellen Feldman – This was a beautiful novel about three WWII soldiers and their wives.

The Truth About Delilah Blue by Tish Cohen – I love books with artist protagonists, and there are so many Canadian authors who are neglected in US markets.

The Autobiography of Mrs. Tom Thumb by Melanie Benjamin - I challenge anyone to forget Vinnie! What an incredible life.

Bloodroot by Amy Greene - Very unique voice, and a haunting narrative.

The Distant Hours by Kate Morton – The woman is a genius. Any of her books are wonderful.

Elizabeth Lynd

Sally Gunning! She has three, The Widow’s War; Bound; and The Rebellion of Jane Clarke (which I think came out in 2011). All are absolutely perfect.

Joan Mora

The Language of Flowers, by Vanessa Diffenbaugh
22 Britannia Road, by Amanda Hodgkinson
Wolf Hall, by Hilary Mantel
The Persimmon Tree, by Bryce Courtenay
Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie, by Alan Bradley
Caleb’s Crossing, by Geraldine Brooks (1/2 way finished!)

What do all these books have in common? Stellar character and voice!

Pamela Hammonds

My reading choices tend to be all over the place--humor, memoir, women's fiction and more. But my most memorable reads for this year are:

A Million Miles in a Thousand Years by Donald Miller
Unplanned by Abby Johnson
Stop Dressing Your Six-year-old Like a Skank by Celia Rivenbark
Another Man's War by Sam Childers
Best Kept Secret by Amy Hatvany
State of Wonder by Ann Patchett

But I'll have to say, my greatest source of reading pleasure this past year came from my fellow What Women Writers. I read Julie's manuscript in early 2011, just finished Susan's and will soon finish Joan's. Next year, I plan to read Kim's and Elizabeth's completed manuscripts. And hopefully they will be reading mine before too long as well.

Julie Kibler

Major Pettigrew's Last Stand by Helen Simonson - Each time I read a book set in England, I want to go back. Immediately. This was a quiet book with a big message.

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins - I waited too long to read this. Loved it/hated it. Was sucked in and could barely climb out when finished, but have somehow managed to not read the second and third in the series yet. I can't wait for the movie.

Those Who Save Us by Jenna Blum - I believe we will read holocaust stories forever and never comprehend the horror of all that happened.

Empire Falls by Richard Russo - I wonder, when I read a book like this, what took me so long to pick it up.

Mudbound by Hilary Jordan - Like my novel, this explores pushing racial boundaries to the point of danger. Another one I waited too long to read.

How to Be An American Housewife by Margaret Dilloway - I loved this even more due to getting to know Margaret in person beforehand and recognizing the bits and pieces of her heart that are hidden in this story.

Before I Forget by Leonard Pitts, Jr. - I read this based on Carleen Brice's recommendation while researching point of view for my manuscript, and I couldn't put it down. A heartrending father/son story.

Falling Under by Danielle Younge-Ullman - My fellow Backspacer reissued this digitally after the rights reverted back to her. It's not for the faint of heart, and if you are a child of divorce, you will recognize your own heart on every single page.

How to Bake a Perfect Life by Barbara O'Neal- Because I read Barbara's new stories every single year and love them every single year.

Barbara's was the only one on this list originally published in 2011! Many I've listed have stood the test of time—they aren't newly published, but they've stayed on the shelves and gone back for printing after printing and appear on many lists. The reasons are obvious when you read them. But when I consider my books-read list, I see many 2011 books I loved, too! It's hard to choose "favorites."

What are your favorite books of 2011? We'd love to hear from you!

A wedding ... oh, and some book news!

2011-12-07T22:21:00.014-06:00

By Julie

It’s been a crazy couple of months. After I signed with the world’s best literary agent in late July (Elisabeth Weed, who works with the world’s best foreign rights agent, Jenny Meyer), and we sold Calling Me Home to St. Martin’s Press domestically and nine foreign markets in September and one in October, my son had the nerve to think it was the right time to get married.

(That's my handsome son and his beautiful bride over there to the right, in case you didn't guess ...)

Okay, the wedding had been planned for months. That wasn’t his fault.

Regardless, we had family in from California and Washington state for a total of ten days leading up to and continuing after the wedding, and we had a blast. For the duration, I didn’t think about the book much at all, as it should be. Family comes first!

Then there was Thanksgiving, which meant a visit from the newlyweds, a bountiful turkey dinner at the in-laws, and a week’s vacation for my husband and kids, including several movies, museum visits, and lots of eating out.

Then, of course, we’re just off our annual What Women Write retreat, and as always, we’re all energized and ready to take on the fictionalized world. Joan did a great job talking about what we each accomplished on Monday, but I'll say a little more about that in a minute.

Now here it is the second week of December! When I sold Calling Me Home in September, publication (early 2013) seemed a million moons away, but wow, I can see how people aren’t kidding when they say the time flies.

I thought you might be interested in hearing about the various and assorted things I’ve already encountered on my journey from sale to publication.

(If not, please note our new feature at the bottom of the blog with “You might also like” links to other posts. Ha.)

In September, I mostly took deep breaths and pinched myself a few thousand times and looked behind me to be sure “they” weren’t talking to someone else and counted my lucky stars.

Shortly after the domestic sale, I had the privilege of speaking with a film agent who is excited about the possibilities for getting Calling Me Home to the big screen, and he is working behind the scenes to help make that happen in the right timing and fashion.

In October, I received most of my foreign publisher’s agreements from around the world via Jenny and Elisabeth. A few weeks ago, I sent them back (all something like 250 sheets of paper—many of them signed, most of them initialed!).

I also learned in October--on my birthday, in fact!--that Calling Me Home was selected to be part of the France Loisirs Avant-Premiere program. France Loisirs is France’s one remaining book club, something like Doubleday or Book-of-the-Month-Club here in the U.S., where customers order books and/or receive certain ones on auto shipments. The “Avant-Premiere” designation means Calling Me Home will be a featured selection, and this happens before it’s available in any other format in France. I’m not sure what all the details are yet, but this sounds like an exciting and prestigious honor for a debut novel! My French publisher was very enthusiastic about it, and, of course, Elisabeth, Jenny, and I were delighted to get the news.

In late October, a foreign language translation deal for the Catalan language came in. I literally had to stop what I was doing and look up Catalan, wondering where or WHAT it was. It turns out Catalan is a language spoken in certain areas of Spain (an area called Catalonia), France, and other small pockets here and there. The publisher is located in Barcelona. And here I was thinking we already had Spain covered. You learn something new every day!

Near the end of November, I received my first editorial notes from Hilary Teeman, my editor at St. Martin’s Press, and a few days later, a fat envelope from Elisabeth containing my St. Martin’s contract, which has been studied and signed and sent off to be finalized.

I made a good start on my revisions during our annual www retreat, the absolutely best part of that being an impromptu brainstorming session where my critique partners allowed me to talk through a requested edit I was having trouble wrapping my brain around. With their help, in less than an hour, I was able to clearly see what I needed to do on something I’d been pondering with little breakthrough for days. Never underestimate the power of a good critique partner or group.

This week, I heard from a couple of other author friends that Calling Me Home appeared in industry news in the Historical Novels Review, a publication of the Historical Novel Society. I don’t subscribe to the publication, but one of my friends graciously offered to mail me her copy! (Which reminds me … Erika Robuck needs my address …) I was surprised to learn this as I have never classified my novel as historical fiction because one of my story lines is present day, but I’m certainly not going to argue! I have said “straddling the line between historical and mainstream fiction,” so there you go.

And today, I learned my German publisher wants an author photo in January and will soon be ready for other promo materials from me! And now I’m wondering how I’m going to lose that last 20 pounds by January … uh oh.

As you can see, things are moving right along. I can’t believe how time really is flying. I’ll try to pop in every now and then in upcoming months with a rundown like this, not too often so as not to be boring, letting you know what’s happening.

Anyone else in our What Women Write audience have any exciting news to share? We’d love for you to leave us a comment! (By the way, we are having a LOT of trouble with our comment form. We have discovered if you use Firefox, it works better. In Internet Explorer, it sometimes takes about three tries, so be sure and copy your comment before submitting in case it doesn’t take the first time. Sorry for the trouble—we are frustrated, too!)

Hope everyone’s gearing up for a happy holiday season!

Don’t leave Travis in the ball pit

2011-12-05T05:30:00.001-06:00

by Joan

Hard to believe it’s Monday and time for the wrap-up of our annual writing retreat. As Susan mentioned on Friday, we did indeed rent a house near water, though this time I don’t think any of us could have guessed just how much water we’d see. In addition to the lake inlet just beyond our back porch, we were deluged with rain the entire weekend. Our outdoor photo shoot turned into an impromptu huddle on the chilly porch. We also attacked our goals with the same heartiness with which we ate and drank. And we met a three-year-old named Travis. But first ... how'd we do with our goals?

Julie’s goal for this retreat was to dive into her official edits to stay on deadline, but also to relax after the past few whirlwind months. In typical Julie-on-retreat style, she wandered around the house engaging in random conversations and grazing on snacks. And thinking. But she also dug into her edits as planned. An impromptu group brainstorming session about one issue reminded the rest of us the work becomes even deeper after the publishing contract comes in.

Pamela reacquainted herself with her neglected manuscript. She killed stepchildren, not darlings, and worked on crafting a stronger story by repositioning chapters and making sure that both the characters grow and the story progresses. And by reading us a chapter, she proved once more that hers is a book that needs to be written. She also planned our photo shoot and began editing our goofy smiles.

Kim got closer to the end of her manuscript by writing 2,400 words, an epic feat for her. She wrote on her Netbook, a miniature laptop that fits squarely on a child’s desk and allows for no more than six lines to a page, impossible for her to edit as she writes, as she normally does. We all encouraged her to write the rest of her manuscript on the Netbook so she can finish this poignant story and send it out to the world.

Susan tried to not be too anxious about the agents who were likely opening the Word doc to her requested manuscript. She read to us the gorgeous opening pages of chapter one, and we cheered her on, becoming anxious with her about what news she might soon hear. She focused on mapping her next manuscript and described to us her rough, but totally worthy new story.

Susan also found time to share her critique of my manuscript, brainstorming with me, pushing me to dig deeper into my characters’ souls. After the session, I edited like a fiend, making sentences pop, clarifying tricky plot points and adding or enhancing dialogue. I was rewarded when I read a revised section to her later and she rubbed the chills from her arms.

Elizabeth committed to a new kind of structure and set about to plot out the rest of her novel. She became comfortable with how she’d finish, concerned not with word count as she had last year, but instead technique. She raised the stakes about 10,000 degrees and said she felt so bad for some of her characters, she actually teared up. Better still, the structure of the book suddenly came into focus, and she now knows the exact order in which to tell the story.

The scene Elizabeth read to us also prompted our new catch phrase: Don't leave Travis in the ball pit. Something to remind our writing selves to tie up loose ends so the reader isn’t distracted by something that really doesn’t matter at all, but will take on unintended significance if we leave the neglected kid in a germy ball pit with no ride home.

Retreat!

2011-12-02T14:00:00.002-06:00

By Susan

Once a year, the six of us here at What Women Write desert our families, day-jobs and comfort zones to attend our writing retreat. We rent a house--usually near water--divide up kitchen duties, and claim roommates before leaving the city for the getaway. I think we all agree that our collective goal is to maximize our writing time in a stress-free environment. Yet every year, our individual goals are very different. As I looked around the house this morning, I realize just how far we've come in the past few years as a critique group.

Last year, as we read to one another around the table on the second evening of the retreat, Julie introduced us to Isabelle and Robert—an interracial couple in 1930s Kentucky when it was illegal to marry outside your race. This year, she's secured an agent and a book deal for this love story now known as CALLING ME HOME, to be published by St. Martin's Press in early 2013. Julie's goals for this retreat? To dive into her official edits so that she stays on deadline. Yet her goal is also to relax—after the past few whirlwind months, she deserves it!

Pamela is wrestling with concepts and character development. Thirty thousand words into her current manuscript, she's recrafting her hook, defining her protagonist's primary goals, and shaping the ending in ways that surprise even her as the words race forward. She's also discovered that her saga may end with a completely different twist than she'd originally imagined—reminding us all how unpredictable and exciting the writing life can be.

Kim? She's an estimated five thousand words away from the completion of her epic historical fiction manuscript. Tightening, perfecting, and creating. She's currently squirreled away in a quiet place, with furrowed brow, I'm sure, weaving together the next string of dialogue and narrative that will bring THE OAK LOVERS to a close—launching her into the land of queries, edits, and agents.

Last year, Elizabeth was our most prolific producer, pounding out almost 10,000 words toward her story in our four-day retreat. This year she is on track for the same. She's so distracted by the fresh voice unfolding in her storyline that she was the first to seclude herself yesterday as we arrived, eager to pour paragraphs onto paper. And I can't wait to hear tonight, when we sit to read around the table, what that voice had to say.

Joan arrived late last evening, after a long week of work, ready to unwind. This morning, she disappeared with her MacBook and her Snuggie, diving into a read-through of her 87,000-word manuscript. She's verifying that her timelines are succinct, her characters well-developed, and the manuscripts shines. She and I plan to brainstorm this afternoon, submersing ourselves in her novel together, looking for ways to sharpen its edges and perfect the flow.

And me? I'm starting all over with a nugget of a story that will become my second novel. It's exciting to see new characters, yet unnamed, overcome the fresh and scary obstacle course that is mapping itself through my brain. New characters, new challenges, and a new setting make me feel like I'm writing for the first time. And so this retreat? My goal is to erase my anxieties about my completed manuscript that is gracing the desks of agents as we speak. The only way I know how to do that? Write something new.

Today and Tomorrow

2011-11-29T06:00:00.002-06:00

by Elizabeth

Today, I am not at our retreat.

Today, I will brew coffee, catch up on the news, jump in the shower, wake the kids, brush little girl's hair, make the bed, load the crockpot, fix school lunches, shoo kids out the door, empty the dishwasher, take the dog to the park, peel apples and bake a pie, sweep the floor, wash and fold a few loads of laundry, dial some work calls, vacuum the carpets, take out the trash, scrub a toilet or two, check on the ancestors, send a birthday card, descend on the supermarket, visit the dry cleaner, scarf down some lunch, sneak in some Christmas shopping, gas up the car, nag the phone company, drive carpool, drag a kid to the doctor, patronize a second grocer, buy and wrap a party gift, help with homework, cook and serve dinner, clean up the kitchen, pack for the weekend, hit the gym. And whatever else I forgot. Hopefully find some time to write. If I'm very lucky, to read.

Tomorrow, I'll be at our retreat.

I will eat, and sleep, and read, and write. And write, and write, and write.

Any questions?

What not to write

2011-11-28T06:00:00.000-06:00

By Pamela

Stacy and Clinton of WNTW

I once was a big fan of the television show What Not to Wear, where people and a hearty sampling of their pitiful wardrobes are whisked away to NYC for a complete overhaul by Stacy and Clinton. I found it hard not to cringe, though, when those featured were criticized--at times mercilessly--for simply expressing their individuality through their fashion choices. In the end, I suppose, maybe their egos recovered when they got to take home a brand new wardrobe of the 'right' clothes.

canvas.landsend.com

I absorbed fashion advice in my formative years:

Never wear white after Labor Day or before Easter.
Don't mix patterns.
Don't wear horizontal stripes; they'll make you look fat.
Never wear orange if you're a redhead.
And so on ...

And yet today, I wear whatever I want, whenever I want. As I'm typing this, I have on a plaid shirt and a plaid scarf--not the same fabric or really the same colors but it works, I think. One of my favorite shirts has horizontal stripes, and I've been a redhead and worn orange and pink and red without a second thought. Plus I'll wear white any month of the year--as long as it's clean.

My point is: I know the 'rules' of fashion and yet I'm not shy about breaking them if I think I can pull it off.

Joan and I recently took a class in Austin, and I found it interesting, that as the instructor rattled off some 'rules,' she countered nearly every one with an exception: an author who didn't follow convention yet found success anyway. I realized that ever since I started pursuing writing as a career, I'd read and heard a lot of advice about What Not to Write.

Don't write more than 100,000 words for your first novel.
Don't follow the latest trend--vampires, werewolves, zombies, etc.
Don't start a book with a reference to the weather.
Don't 'head-hop' or have one scene with multiple POVs or have too many POVs in one story.
Don't start or end a book with dialog.
Don't tell an agent that you're writing a trilogy unless you've already sold the first one.

So, if every author followed The Ever-expanding Rules of Writing, Kathryn Stockett's first novel, The Help, which is over 150,000 words, would likely have been a much different--less compelling and shorter--story.

Many folks have hitched their keyboard to the paranormal wagon and found new ways to spin a good ol' vampire tale and done quite well.

As far as books starting with the weather, read the opening lines of The English Patient or The Memory Keeper's Daughter.

I'm pretty sure he never 'head-hopped' but Carl Hiassen's Skinny Dip had so many POVs, I lost track. And loved the book so much, I've read it twice.

I've also heard, "Don't write a book as though it's a journal or a diary." What about The Color Purple? And that "People don't read/like/want prologues or epilogues." Really? I didn't hear anyone complaining much about The Time Traveler's Wife or The Dive from Clausen's Pier.

Someone also advised me to not write in the present tense. As in A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius? And two other books I loved: Open, Andre Agassi's autobiography and Elizabeth Berg's Until the Real Thing Comes Along.

So, my advice to anyone who writes is this: Study the craft, learn the rules and then write what moves you. It's fine to wear white in winter while you write your vampire novel in multiple POVs in present tense with the opening scene taking place in a violent snowstorm.

Just do it well--wear it with confidence--and I'm sure you can pull it off.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2011-11-23T12:18:00.000-06:00

What Women Write is on hiatus today and Friday in observance of the Thanksgiving Holiday weekend. We will resume our regular posting schedule on Monday, November 28th.

We wish all our US readers a Happy Thanksgiving!

Lucky 21

2011-11-21T06:00:00.004-06:00

by Joan

I’m not much of a gambler, but I’ve played a few hands of Black Jack in my time. Seated at the curvy table, cards stacked up ready to be drawn, I anxiously await a face card. A one-eyed jack perhaps, or maybe a king. I perk up with excitement when the dealer declares, “Lucky 21!”

As luck would have it, today’s the 21st of November and 21 years ago on a beach in sunny Jamaica, I married my face card (no, not the joker, though he does make me laugh!).

This past weekend, we celebrated our anniversary at a beautiful B&B, The Inn on Lake Granbury, recommended by both Susan and Elizabeth. It was a lovely respite, a private house to hole up in with the lake glistening under an autumn sun.

Late afternoon Saturday, we watched from a hammock as another bride and groom vowed to start their own journey. What I would tell them is this: Marriage takes nurturing. It takes love and work and humor and honesty and tears and more love.

A manuscript takes nurturing as well. I have worked and loved my manuscript. I have cried and laughed over it. I’ve had to face some honest truths about it, too. As much as I nurture my story, I know it takes more than that to find the right agent and then the right publisher. It takes a little luck.

What's your good-luck story?

All or Nothing

2011-11-18T11:00:00.001-06:00

By Susan

My husband is a detail kinda guy. He's an engineer, after all. He likes order, and process, and structure. With that said, I realized early in our relationship that he's an all-or-nothing man. He's loyal to his friends for a lifetime, he's a boss's dream employee. As a spouse, he's a fantastic home chef, he loves his children without reservation, and it's fun to watch him dive into a new project--whether that means a 24-hour mountain bike race (he just completed 24 Hours of Moab in October) or planting a garden so we have fresh vegetables and chilies.

Halloween was no exception. For the past several years, he's been out of town for work when trick-or-treating comes around. This year, he decided to use his God-given size and fantastic square head to create the perfect monster. After a trip to Goodwill for the too-small coat and two hours of makeup, he became Frankenstein--the scariest our neighborhood had ever seen.

It wasn't just the makeup or the clothes. He was in-character, lurking behind trees, straight-arming little girls who came too close. He practiced his walk before the sun set, to make sure he had just the right creep factor. ("I don't want to appear too zombie. Am I walking too zombie?" he asked.) All or nothing. It's the only way to go, for him.

It made me revisit some of my own characters in my current manuscript. Which one would go all out on Halloween? Would my protagonist organize her research papers, or scatter them wildly? Did I know the motivation for each character? I wasn't sure I knew the answers to those questions. Do I know my own characters as well as I know my husband?

I decided that if I didn't, I'd better get to know them, and quickly. Because with the characters we create, it's all or nothing, too.

With my newly-found critical eye, I've also spent some time reading a fellow writer's latest manuscript, and I've turned the microscope on her characters as well. By page fifty, I wasn't sure if I knew any quirky traits of the main players. Even if two characters have the same profession, they don't have the same personalities. Which one is the life of the party, who is the wallflower? What traits set them apart?

If you don't know your characters inside and out, sometimes they get unruly and you're not sure why. It might be because you don't know them well enough. It didn't surprise me that my husband decided to Frankenstein-up his holiday. And I couldn't imagine him doing it any other way than exactly how he did it. (What other man would spend two hours on makeup?) I knew it because he's my spouse. And the only way to know our characters is to view them the same way.

Trying to Write

2011-11-16T06:00:00.000-06:00

by Elizabeth

Trying to write. Trying to write. Writing, writing, trying to write.

My plan was to have the first draft of my WIP complete by our annual retreat. That's coming up soon, and I have been making progress, and I might even yet make the goal.

Trying to write. Trying to write. Trying to find time to write.

But life has slammed me with circumstances that add more than the usual wife/mother/part-time employee stress to my life, and finding time to write is tough right now. How to balance the things that must be done, the things that should be done, and find time to write? Which really, should fall into that first category, shouldn't it? Must be done.

Trying to write. Trying to write. Finding time to write. Finding more and more in the writing.

The good news about this weird situation is that the story is unfolding in ways I hadn't expected, those famous oniony layers peeling away, and some characters that I thought mattered shedding right along with them. (Like the brown skin on the outside, trashed.) The story is enriching, developing, twisting and turning and hopefully in ways much less cliched than this sentence. Characters are dancing together, names are changing, people in the story are rising to the front and demanding to take their rightful part. This is a good thing. But.

Finding time to write. Finding time to write.

Finding time to sleep.

I might get it done. I might not. Either way, I am going to be okay with this, because if it's not done on December 1, by December 4 it will be much further along. This is still a self-imposed deadline, and if I don't make it, I haven't failed. I've just worked with what I've got right now, and I don't want to rush to the next draft, the one that is much closer to the one that will hopefully land me an agent and a book deal.

I just need to try to write. Find time to write. Keep on writing! And get a little sleep.

An Evening with Stephen King

2011-11-14T08:00:00.001-06:00

By Pamela

How did you spend 11-11-11?

About a month ago, an email appeared in my inbox from A Real Bookstore announcing a special event they were hosting on November 11: An Evening with Stephen King. I've been fortunate to see some amazing authors, but this one ... well, let's just say, I didn't see this opportunity presenting itself for me again anytime in the near future. Normally I'd have forwarded the email to my fellow bloggers first, but I figured my husband would want to go so I called him instead. Yes, he was on board. So, I purchased our tickets and eagerly awaited the date.

When we took our seats in the sold-out auditorium, we were kept entertained by trivia questions that played on the screen over the stage. "What book was inspired by Stephen King's run-in with a Saint Bernard?" Easy. Cujo. "What event inspired the book Pet Sematary?" Stephen King's daughter's cat getting run over on the highway. And so it went until he appeared on stage and commandeered the microphone, stepping from behind the lectern and ignoring the stool provided for him.

My first impression was how small he appeared to be. I guess anyone larger-than-life appears remarkably normal when you finally see him in person, and we were pretty far back so his 6'4" frame seemed non-imposing. My second impression was how funny he was. Immediately engaging, he had the audience laughing much of the time--not at all the dark and brooding persona one might imagine given the stories the man creates.

He talked a lot about his early writing career--from his first autograph (while in the john, given to the restroom attendant) to his first time being recognized in public. He said he's often asked what scares him. "Everything," he said. "Spiders, snakes, the elevator in my hotel, standing up here talking to a large crowd." Apparently, most writers--even notorious ones--share this fear.

Before answering questions from the audience, he read a few pages from his new book: 11/22/63, a "what-if" tale of time travel and Kennedy's assassination. His research for the book brought him to Dallas and he returned for a benefit event the night before for the Sixth Floor Museum. In doing research for the book, he said he watched a lot of old tourism movies from the Dallas Public Library to get a feel for the setting of that era--what people wore and drove, the look of the town.

I resisted the urge to take notes during his talk as I didn't want to be distracted, but a few of the questions from the audience turned to the subject of craft and I couldn't help myself. Here are a few of my favorite responses to questions (paraphrased here):

When asked if he thought it was harder or easier today for new writers to make a name for themselves as authors, Mr. King said that he thought it was easier today given all the different venues one has available through ebooks and self-publishing. But he thought people put too much emphasis on getting published. "You have to get words on paper, words on paper, words on paper--then worry about the business side of it."

When asked if he would ever consider writing for young adults, he said, "Well, I write for the whole family!"

When asked which of his book-to-screen projects he was most proud of, he listed: Stand by Me, Storm of the Century, and Shawshank Redemption.

Other thoughts on writing included:

There's a "beautiful hypnosis that takes affect" when you get immersed while writing a book.
While writing, "characters do things that surprise you and that's the greatest thing of all."
"The worst day I had in that chair (while writing) was absolutely terrific."
When starting a new book, "you have that feeling of total inadequacy."

What surprised me the most was that after all his successes and for all his fame and fortune, he's really just a writer, worried about the next book and doing his best to make sure he tells one amazing story after another. Lucky for us, he still seems to have a lot of ideas. And after penning over 50 novels, that's inspiring!

NaNo is Still NaNot for Me

2011-11-11T05:00:00.000-06:00

Woodland Ford (1930) by Carl Ahrens

By Kim

Back in 2009 Pamela, Julie, Elizabeth and Susan all blogged about NaNoWriMo (short for National Novel Writing Month). Elizabeth committed to the full 50,000 words and she did it. The others (including Joan, who did not publicly weigh in) all had ambitious private goals and all made great progress.

I was the lone hold-out. I’d written a novel in three months before so, despite evidence to the contrary, I can produce words quickly. In fact, it took me ten minutes to compose a 525 word excuse about why NaNo was NaNot for me. I read it over again this morning, and much of it still applies. Here are the highlights, adjusted for 2011 circumstances.

One: I would kill myself writing 50,000 words in a month only to spend the next year rewriting 49,000 of them. Twice. I’d have plenty of time to do it because my family would no longer speak to me.

Two: According to NaNo rules, you are supposed to work on an entirely new project. I would rather hack off my own arm than abandon a novel within 10,000 words of typing The End.

Three: My office remains just as it was in 2009. Click here and feel my pain.

Four: My family members expect to eat and have clean clothes to wear.

Carl Ahrens (1890) - Color enhanced

Five: NaNo works great for writers who compose first and edit later. I write like a painter paints – in layers. Start with a sketch, add a wash or two, build up details here and there, etc. If the composition as a whole doesn’t work, I don’t want to waste my time crafting scenes that I’ll have to murder later.

Six: My protagonists are both artists, so composing like a painter makes sense.

Seven: The Oak Lovers is mainly a true story. Research is on-going and I have no control over when new details will fall in my lap. Sometimes that information changes a dynamic of the story, making revisions necessary before I move on.

Eight: I don’t want my two children asking why I spend more time with my dead great-grandparents than with them.

Nine: Who picked November? Thanksgiving break! Nutcracker rehearsals and performances! Visiting relatives! Teacher conferences and school programs! What is NOT happening this month?

Ten: Composing requires me to disengage from my life and take up temporary residence in 1920. I’ll tweak dialogue while driving Ashlyn to school or compose one of Carl Ahrens' clever insults while listening to Sasha talk about her day. Something as benign as a phone ringing can shatter my focus. My family all know I’m not “entirely here” when I’m working. It’s mentally exhausting to live trapped between centuries. If I spent a month moving directly from one chapter to another without emotionally decompressing, the men in white coats would come to cart me away by the end.

I have nothing but respect for all the writers who have committed to NaNo. I’m thrilled for the participants who post updates on the Writer Unboxed forum on Facebook. I read your posts, I cheer you on, and then tap into your creative energy to plod along on my own manuscript. My word count at the end of the day might be one zero less than the 2500 or so average I see others composing, but it is still forward progress. I am content.

How about you? Are you participating in NaNo or have you in the past? We’d love to hear your experiences.

Ready to reconnect

2011-11-09T06:00:00.001-06:00

By Julie

　
Some might call it "disconnected." Some might call it being "unplugged." Whatever you call it, it's what I've been for several weeks.

It's been a good, but busy time. I went on a long weekend retreat to Oregon. I've taken one child on a college visit (thumbs up!). I married another child off (thumbs up, again!). I've had seven relatives in the house for the better part of a week (thumbs up, of course!), including one super cute 18 month old who keeps us entertained and busy!

In the midst of all this, my laptop computer's wireless card died a final, irreparable death after being finicky as a cat with nine lives for two years. My hand-me-down iPhone 3G has slowed to a painful crawl, nearly audibly begging to be replaced with a snazzy 4GS (even if I'm still pouting the new iteration isn't a 5--I held out so long!).

My internet time has been limited to borrowed moments in the midst of the busy-ness and festivities. It's consisted of scrolling down the tiny screen on my phone, cursing as I try to leave a comment on Facebook using my thumbs or read an article that constantly refreshes itself, making me crazy as I attempt to find my place again. On rare occasion, I borrow my daughter's laptop when she's not using it for school to view wedding photos larger than 2" by 3", or sneak my mother's pink plaid netbook so I can write a blog post. (Bet you had no idea this was composed in pink plaid.)

It's been nice feeling a little more grounded in the "real world." Especially in the last week, my family probably appreciated me being more "in the moment" than I am when I can beam myself up to my virtual communities in seconds.

But I'm ready to get back to work. Next week, I'll purchase a new laptop and upgrade my phone. I'm ready to get my hands (with an annoying pre-wedding manicure I can't wait to lose!) on a shiny new computer keyboard and get started on the notes my editor will soon deliver for revisions to Calling Me Home. I'm ready to re-engage in conversation with my writing colleagues, my critique partners, my potential readers. I'm ready to start making detailed notes about the new story brewing in my head.

I'll enjoy these next few days before family is all gone home--a first visit to the zoo for my precious niece is on the schedule for tomorrow--and I'll miss them all terribly as I always do. But it's good to have a job I can do almost any time and anywhere. It's good to enjoy it so much I begin to feel a little antsy when I'm away too long. It's good to have "co-workers" I can't wait to talk to again. It's good to be in a career that makes me feel so "me" I miss it when I'm gone.

What do you miss about your job or your passion when you unplug for a time?

　

The 1-Day MFA

2011-11-07T05:00:00.000-06:00

by Joan

“We need a workshop!” Pamela and I agreed. (Goofy opening dialogue explained later!) We both knew that we could benefit from an intense day on craft. On Saturday, we attended the Writers’ League of Texas’ program, “The 1-Day MFA: Lessons in Voice, Character, & Dialogue,” with instructor Sara Kocek. While it’s hard to get too deep in one day, Sara offered plenty of solid advice for us to apply to our current manuscripts.

Dialogue
When Sara asked who felt they wrote strong dialogue, Pamela and I both raised our hands. After trying with success to out-humor each other co-writing CCS, we felt comfortable with our skills in that area. But Sara pointed out that writing snappy, interesting dialogue is only part of the equation. Dialogue must also:

Advance the plot
Reveal character
Create or increase conflict

Another suggestion Sara offered was to have your characters talk past each other. I love this advice. Here’s my quick in-class exercise where we were instructed to write no more than three words of dialogue per line:

“Where’ve you been?” He didn’t look at her.
She dropped her purse on the floor and crossed the floor. “Red or white.”
“Fine, don’t say.”
“I will, later.”
He heard her twisting the corkscrew, grunting.
“Red, it is,” she said.
He finally looked up. She sipped too long on her glass, squeezing the bridge of her nose.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said.
“No, it isn’t.” Her voice shook.
He lowered his voice. “You’re never late.”
“I got fired.”

Okay, it’s not perfect, but you get the idea.

Character
Next Sara offered tips on writing strong characters. Supplying your protagonist with a driving desire is key—what does she want more than anything and what stands in her way? But that’s just the beginning. To make things more interesting, give your character contradicting traits or beliefs. Better still, give her a secret—if revealed, this secret would change the character’s standing in the world. For example, it would be a bad day for my character Janey if anyone found out that she, a respected art conservator, had a wardrobe of confiscated antiques at home.

Voice
Voice is an area I struggle with. I’ve had a particular challenge in my current manuscript because I’ve got to get right not only the Italian and Irish immigrants in Victorian London, but also two present-day architects who share the same background. Luckily, one embraces his Italian and Jewish heritages by interspersing ethnic phrases in his speech. The other is a lonely widower with a happy-go-lucky Springer Spaniel. Sara’s main advice was to make sure your character’s voice sounds authentic.

Plot
We also learned the elements of plot and structure, how to weave in sub-plot, how to write strong beginnings and endings (and how NOT to!) Don’t start your book with the weather. Don’t place your readers into an otherwise normal day in the life of your character. Better to drop them into a riveting scene where they grab onto the coattails of your character and don’t let go. As for endings, trust your readers' intelligence—resist the urge to draw conclusions. Avoid the soap opera trap (unless you’re Jane Austen). And don’t begin or end your book with a quote (unless you’re Margaret Mitchell).

If you’re in the Austin area, Sara Kocek is offering a second WLT workshop. Sign up here.

An Interview with Lori Roy

2011-11-04T07:00:00.002-05:00

By Susan
Sometimes you find a book that captures you. You can't put it down. Even though it's dark, and sometimes painful, and beautifully sad, you keep turning pages. When I found BENT ROAD by Lori Roy, I stumbled into a world of collective pain and family drama. At the same time, I found hope.

It was one of those books that moved me enough to contact the author. Here is our conversation.

WWW: After completing BENT ROAD, I immediately emailed my gals here at What Women Write, encouraging them to pick up a copy. However, I had a hard time naming the genre. I called it 'Literary Gothic.' What would you call it? As you set out to tell this story, did you always see the Gothic elements in place, or did they write their way into the story?

LR:First and foremost, many thanks for recommending BENT ROAD to your friends. Word-of-mouth is crucial for any author, and most especially for us new authors. BENT ROAD has been tossed into many categories, but the one consistent descriptor has been literary fiction. I am compelled by and most interested in my characters, something that lends to the book’s literary qualities. However, I also believe strongly that putting characters in action is the best way to define them and root them in a reader’s mind. It’s the old “show don’t tell” adage. I am particularly interested in those moments in a character’s life where she is unusually stressed. It’s these moments that I believe most reveal a character, not only to the reader but also to herself. As a reader, I like a little suspense to compel me to turn the page. I worked very hard to provide this to the readers of BENT ROAD. I wanted to fashion a plot that would make them desperate to turn to the next page. As to the Gothic elements, they rose up out of a gritty setting and family secrets that had been simmering for many years. If I were to place BENT ROAD in a category, I would probably call it literary suspense.

WWW: In preparing for our conversation, I stumbled across your query letter, published by your agent, Jenny Bent, on her blog. Without asking you about your query letter format (which was interesting in itself) I’m more interested in your mention of your organization of your agent hunt. How did your background in tax prepare you for the craft of fiction, and what was your process for writing BENT ROAD?

LR: I don’t know that my tax work prepared me for the craft of writing, but it certainly prepared me for the associated research and provided me the tools to organize that research. I did a good deal of technical writing in my accounting days and I would say that experience served me well when I began looking for an agent. Query letters are professional communications and should be treated as such. I think that’s an important thing for aspiring writers to remember. The long hours I worked when I was a tax accountant also prepared me for planting myself in a chair and staying there until the writing is done. As to the process of writing BENT ROAD, I would like to say I had it carefully outlined and knew every twist and turn well before it came along, but that would not be true. While my tax accountant life was quite orderly, my writing life is not. About the only order to my writing life is that I insist on strict word counts every day. Beyond that, I struggle with countless rewrites as I try to unearth what really happened to these characters of mine.

WWW: Let’s talk a little about BENT ROAD itself. What was the moment of genesis for you in creating the story of the Scott family? Was there a specific reason you chose Kansas in 1967 as your setting?

LR: I have found that all my stories begin with setting. I have also found myself most interested in settings that pose obstacles or are threatening in some way. Western Kansas can be a beautiful place but also a foreboding place, particularly to a group of newcomers. BENT ROAD grew out of a short story in which a family flees Detroit to move back to Kansas. I chose the late 60s because I am drawn to a time when technology was less of a distraction and people seemed a bit more accountable to reality.

WWW: You begin BENT ROAD with Celia driving the family from Detroit to Kansas, with her husband, Arthur, ahead in another vehicle. What was your primary goal in the opening scene? Did you struggle with creating the perfect opening hook?

LR: The opening scene of BENT ROAD was always the opening scene. I like the idea of beginning a story in the middle of something, dropping the reader directly into a character’s life. I think we’ve all experienced the stress of trying to follow someone in a car, and using such a universal experience allows a reader to quickly relate to the character. At least, that is my hope.

WWW: Part of my fascination and love of this story was your use of point of view. Can you give our readers some insight into writing each section from a different POV— sometimes even telling the same scene from the other side of the room? How easy, or difficult, was the balance of point of view in the story for you?

LR: The use of multiple POVs was a balancing act and something I struggled with during rewrite. I am drawn to using multiple POVs, primarily because as characters pop up, I find myself suddenly interested in unearthing their stories. It’s always important for a writer to consider which character is most impacted by a particular event. This is generally the POV that should be used when telling the event. I came across a few scenes that I felt were worthy of a look from multiple characters. I do limit myself in the number of POVs I’ll use, as I think too many will dilute a story.

WWW: As a writer, do you follow a structured path to the conclusion, or are you surprised by where the characters take you? Or is it a combination of both?

LR: I wish I followed a structured path and I have tried various methods, but in the end, my characters tell the story. Sometimes it takes me a while to figure out what happened, but eventually the plot bubbles up. I do much flushing out during rewrites.

WWW: Your post on Bent On Books about securing Jenny Bent almost made me cry. (Especially when you answered your daughter’s question regarding your own tears with “It’s Marilyn Stasio. It’s the New York Times.”) Tell us a little bit about your personal journey that brought your from writer to author.

LR: For me, the most important part of making my way from writer to author was to keep writing without regard to all the statistics. If a writer spends any time at all considering how difficult the path is, she’ll likely quit. I once heard a young tennis player being interviewed. He had just beaten Andy Roddick in a match. Not a person in the tennis world would have thought this young player could win. The young man didn’t believe he had a chance, either, he said in this interview. But he kept trying. Even though he didn’t believe, he kept trying. Good advice to any writer.

WWW: Here at What Women Write, we discovered that falling in step together as a community of writers helped hold us accountable to our own writing goals. What did you find kept you on track to meet your writing, editing, and revision goals?

LR: I do have a few writer friends who have been very important to my development as a writer. Most importantly, they tell me when something is not working and when I can do better. Hopefully I do the same for them. I’m a firm believer that a crucial part of developing as a writer is reading and critiquing the work of other writers. As we become more skilled at analyzing and critiquing the work of other writers, we become more skilled at analyzing and critiquing our own work.

WWW: What are you writing now? Can you share with us?

LR: I'm working on, and hopefully nearing the end of, a story about three women living on the same block just outside downtown Detroit. Set in the late fifties, during a time of escalating tensions, this is another book I would label literary suspense.

WWW: Let’s time travel: If you had one piece of advice to give a younger version of yourself at the beginning of your writing journey, what would it be? Would you change anything?

LR: This is a tough question. There were certainly difficult times along the way. Like every writer, I occasionally wondered if I were wasting my time and struggled to ignore the statistics that tell us how difficult it is to publish a book. However, if I could, I would not reassure my younger self that I could overcome those obstacles. I think the struggle is necessary. Perhaps I find this question difficult because I had such great teachers along the way and I had the good sense to listen to them. These teachers gave me the advice and direction I needed when I needed it. Even my toughest days led me somewhere worthwhile, so I’d have to say I wouldn’t change a thing.

WWW: I promise, Lori, that this was no waste of time. I look forward to your next novel!

Because I write ...

2011-11-02T06:00:00.001-05:00

By Pamela

Because I write, you might notice something different about me. Okay, maybe in your head ‘different’ is ‘strange’ and I’m really fine with that.

Because I write, friends have admitted to being reluctant to send me: emails, text messages and Christmas cards—fearing they might not spell something correctly. I assure them that I have the same worries too—regardless of who is reading it.

Because I write, my boys tend to think twice about asking me to proof read their homework. The request is usually tempered with: Don’t go crazy or anything …

Because I write, at times the temptation to correct others is nearly overwhelming. Lay/lie, who/that, was/were—it all makes me a bit crazy. While I’ve yet to actually do it, I did avoid Walgreens for over a month after the guy at the register told me ‘no problem’ when I said ‘thank you’ and then proceeded to say ‘have a good one’ as I left. Grrr … not poor grammar, really, but just two peeves of mine. (Two peeves of a snob.) I also looked around for the manager—again, same Walgreens—when I noticed their ‘stationery’ area was labeled as ‘stationary.’ Sure, it wasn’t moving, but I don’t think that’s what they meant.

Because I write, reading for pleasure isn’t as pleasurable as it was ten years ago. I used to read anything and everything, but now—knowing what I do about the craft—I find I’m less tolerant of so-so writing.

Because I write, I notice what makes you unique—the inflection in your voice, the way you tuck your hair behind your ear when you're nervous, how you kneel down to talk to a toddler, the wrinkles around your mouth that give away your smoking habit, the stains on your shoes, the way you talk to sales clerks and waitresses. Everything about you is fodder for one of my characters. I notice.

Because I write, I scribble notes on everything. Please don't touch them, add to them or, for your own safety, throw them away.

Because I write, I’m also insecure about what I’ve written. So, if you ever read an article, blog post or story by me, your telling me that you liked it means a lot. Really, I’ve only met a few writers with egos, so if you enjoy something an author has written, he or she would likely love to hear your nice comments. Find them on Facebook, write a nice review on Amazon, pass along a recommendation to a friend, or find some other way to pat them on their insecure backs.

Because I write, I—and Julie and Susan and Joan and Kim and Elizabeth—support other writers by: attending author events, buying their books new and not used (so they’ll get royalties) and promoting their efforts here on the blog.

Because I write, the world probably doesn’t look the same to me as it does to you. And if you’re an engineer (or a professional organizer or an artist or a nurse), I’m sure you see my world from a totally different perspective, and I think that’s pretty cool. Because, when I write, some days I am a professional organizer, an artist, a nurse—or at least I attempt to bring those characters to life in my stories.

And that is way cool.

Now That's Scary

2011-10-31T06:00:00.001-05:00

by Elizabeth

There are some guys who can put on a tiara and still look good. Jamie Ford, Keith Cronin--these guys can pull it off, and that's why they got the chance to be Women for a day here on the blog.

One of my favorite things about this writing journey has been the people I've met along the way. The ladies here, of course. But also people from conferences, from The Writer's Guild of Texas, writers from signings and from here on the blog.

When I was first getting serious about this whole writing gig, shoring up the courage to stab my thumb at my chest and use the word 'writer,' The Lesser North Texas Writers were a source of incredible help and education. For one thing, it's where I met Joan and through her became a part of this group. That first night, she and I clicked, and that was a tremendous gift. What has always been so interesting to me, though, is that we were usually the only two there writing our kind of stuff. And yet I got so so much help from folks there who wrote in genres I didn't even read. And in many cases, they weren't likely readers of my work, either. But I enjoyed their stories so much, not to mention their company, and I had no idea then that one day I'd love to see a tiara on them. Except they'd look ridiculous.

But it's Halloween. It might be a costume only, but there's no other day in the year when I could stick a tiara on these boys and not get slugged. It's Halloween, so let's get spooky.

Take Anthony Miller. Let's just say it's a good thing he's the father of boys, because if he had to play tea party, things could get wicked. Which is appropriate, because his book is all about Satan. On whom one does not perch headgear. Getting to read and critique What Would Satan Do? in draft form was a hilarious privilege. Many times I begged him to let me bring home a copy of his night's reading so I could share it with my husband (who is a prodigious reader, but not a writer, and who would definitely never wear a tiara if he were). And when Anthony let me know his book was available on Kindle, I just wondered how we were going to keep the 13-year-old from reading it too. (I'm assuming Anthony's kids won't be permitted to read Daddy's book until college, either. Definitely not rated PG-13.) If you like to laugh and don't mind a little gore with your giggle, this is definitely a book to get. Just put away your stilettos while you read this one, or someone could get stabbed.

Another Lesser who wouldn't be caught dead near pink is Bill Lee. The first night I met Bill, I read a story I'd begun about a girl who was raised in a cult. When I finished my nine or ten pages, he stared at me with a look that must have reduced more than one Marine recruit to tears during his twenty years in the service. "I'm very offended," he said, and I think the milk in my coffee curdled. But then he grinned, and I was in on the joke, too. In his wonderful gruff voice, he complimented my story and writing. Still, even now I'm never quite sure what Bill is thinking, even when I run into him having dinner at the clubhouse he shares with my in-laws. (A real treat was seeing him perform in community theater with my mother-in-law; his acting chops from that first night were on good display on stage last spring.) What I do know, though, is that the man's voice comes through in every word he writes. He's got a couple of books out, and if you like things military or know someone who does, or if you just want to hear one of the saltiest writing voices out there, Bill Lee is for you.

And then there's Bill Francis, who I hope won't get mad if I say comes closest to not looking ridiculous in frippery. He's definitely a guy writer, but sometimes when he'd read pages, he nailed the female voice with scary precision. She was just usually naked or in peril, which is what makes him more leather-collar than pink-boa. Bill also did a good job of acting like a girl when it came to writerly confidence; one of the most talented writers I've ever read, I'm not sure he knows, even now, how extraordinarily gifted he is. Hopefully his publication in an upcoming anthology will help convince him how awesome he is, and spur him to finish up the collection of stories that I cannot wait to see in hard copy. The guy is that good. You should read him.

There are others there, too, Jeb and Robert and Philip--not a one of them a guy I would ever stick sparkle on. But they've helped me shine my work, and even if it's scary to picture them with flowers, I'd love to give them all a bouquet, even if it's wilted and black. They like it that way.

Shame the Devil – A Review and Q & A with Author Debra Brenegan

2011-10-28T05:00:00.001-05:00

By Kim

A few weeks ago Debra Brenegan e-mailed me about her novel, Shame the Devil. She had a hunch I might enjoy a story about a spunky (and very real) 19th century woman writer who has been nearly forgotten by history. She sent along the copy on the book jacket:

Shame the Devil tells the remarkable and true story of Fanny Fern (the pen name of Sara Payson Willis), one of the most successful, influential, and popular writers of the 19th century. A novelist, journalist and feminist, Fern (1811-1872) outsold Harriet Beecher Stowe, won the respect of Nathaniel Hawthorne, and served as a literary mentor to Walt Whitman. Scrabbling in the depths of poverty before her meteoric rise to fame and fortune, she was widowed, escaped from an abusive second marriage, penned one of the country’s first prenuptial agreements, married a man eleven years her junior, and served as a 19th century Oprah to her hundreds of thousands of fans. Her weekly editorials in the pages of The New York Ledger over a period of about twenty years chronicled the myriad controversies of her era and demonstrated her firm belief in the motto, “Speak the truth, and shame the devil.” Through the story of Fern and her contemporaries, including Walt Whitman, Catharine Beecher, Harriet Beecher Stowe, Harriet Jacobs and Nathaniel Hawthorne, Shame the Devil brings the intellectual and social ferment of mid nineteenth-century America to life.

Um, yeah, this sounded right up my alley! I quickly finished the book I was reading so I could dive into Shame the Devil the minute it arrived. I was a little nervous when I read on the internet that the novel began as Brenegan’s doctoral thesis. Would it be too academic for the average reader?

While it is obvious that Brenegan is highly educated, the writing is both accessible and entertaining. Characters are well drawn, especially Fanny Fern. The reality of life for many 19th century women was at times difficult for this 21st century reader to stomach, but Fanny’s circumstances made her that much more remarkable. As I read the novel, I often wondered how it was I had never heard of her before while men like Whitman, whom I frankly wanted to slap, are celebrated in our literary canon. I laughed, I raged and I cried while reading Shame the Devil – all sure signs of a good read.

Photo by Steve Rozansky

Q & A with Debra Brenegan

Debra Brenegan is Assistant Professor of English and Coordinator of Women’s Studies at Westminster College in Fulton, Missouri. Her work has been published in CALYX, The Cimmeron Review, Southern Women’s Review, Phoebe and other publications.

Welcome Debra! How did you first learn about Fanny Fern? Were you drawn to her at once?

In graduate school, I took a nineteenth-century American Literature class with a professor who told me, “I know a writer you’re just going to love.” This writer, Fanny Fern, wasn’t on our reading list that semester, so, he added her book, Ruth Hall, to the reading list of a course I took with him the next semester. And, he was right – I adored her! I became so interested in Fern and her amazing life that I started writing papers about her. I applied for and got a graduate school fellowship to visit Fern’s archives at Smith College in Massachusetts. As I learned more about Fanny Fern, I couldn’t stop telling people about her. And people were amazed with her rags-to-riches story. They couldn’t believe that they had never heard of her. When it came time to write my dissertation, I combined my interest in creative writing, literature and Women’s Studies to write a historical novel about this forgotten journalist, novelist and feminist. I wanted everyone who hadn’t heard of Fanny Fern to learn about her; I wanted to bring her back to life.

What made you decide to write this book as a novel instead of a biography?

Fanny Fern - young

My publisher asked me the same thing! Although I had done enough research to write a biography, I wanted to reach a broader audience. There are already several scholarly biographies out there about Fanny Fern, but they are written for and appeal to a more academic audience. I wanted Fern’s story to be as broadly-known as possible, to present her to as many people as possible. I felt that by putting her story into a story-format, it would be more assessable – and more likely to be read.

Why do you think Fanny has been forgotten by time while others, like Walt Whitman, are celebrated?

I don’t think there is any one reason for this, but, rather a collection of possible reasons. First, she wasn’t a literary writer, so when editors and scholars began formally and informally to assign works to the “canon,” she was probably passed over for being a popular writer. Second, she was a woman, and, again, during the canon formation period, most of the attention went to white, male writers like Hawthorne, Melville, Thoreau, and, yes, Whitman. Many women writers, along with many other marginalized writers, were forgotten about. Third, since the idea of women working and having careers in general was still considered unfeminine, even vulgar, during Fern’s life and in the years after it, she and her family were judged, sometimes harshly, for her endeavors. When she died, she made it known that she wanted her literary fame to die along with her. Her family, abiding by her wishes, didn’t encourage her literary memory in the same way that, say, Walt Whitman’s followers and fans did after he died.

You portray the reality of life for most women in the mid 1800’s as pretty grim. Happiness depended solely on the character of the man a woman married, and that choice wasn’t always hers to make. Then, of course, there was the matter of praying that man stayed alive. Without giving away the plot too much, what parts of a woman’s plight (not necessarily Fanny’s) were the hardest to write about?

The hardest parts for me to write were probably also the most painful parts of life for Fanny and the other characters. I don’t want to be a spoiler, so I won’t give specific details, but Fern and some of the other characters had to face a number of very difficult moments – abuse, poverty, and the loss of several loved ones. I had to put myself in their shoes and to write about their pain and desperation. That is never easy.

You wrote from several points of view. Which did you enjoy most and why? Who came as a struggle for you?

Although this book is definitely Fanny’s story, I did enjoy presenting chapters from the perspectives of several different characters. My favorite characters to write, besides Fanny, were Fanny’s older brother, N.P. (Nat) Willis, and her daughter, Grace. Nat was fun because he was a rich, spoiled celebrity and it was entertaining for me to research and portray upper-crust life from a different era. Grace was also a great and satisfying challenge for me, because she was emotionally sensitive and slightly traumatized. I wanted to portray her emotional and psychological struggles within the story of her mother’s amazing success and strength.

Are you working on anything now?

I just finished a draft of another novel, tentatively titled Motherless. It is a contemporary fiction story from the perspective of a pregnant college student who decides to hide her pregnancy and have her baby in secret. Just yesterday, I sent it to an agent who requested the first reading. I, of course, have crossed all of my fingers and toes, hoping she will like it! I also have a short story collection that is being considered by several publishers.

Thank you for stopping by What Women Write today, Debra. Shame the Devil is available at bookstores everywhere.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a copy of the book mentioned above gratis in the hope that I would mention it on this blog. Regardless, I only recommend books I've read and believe will appeal to our readers. In accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising” I am making this statement.

So many books, so little time

2011-10-26T21:15:00.008-05:00

By Julie

Take a look at the photo below. Looks like a nice group of women, friends gathered for dinner, maybe a ladies' night out, right?

Yes, it's all that, but more. This photo, my friends, represents a powerhouse, before your very eyes.

Last weekend, I met a group of women's fiction writers at a retreat near Mt. Hood, Oregon, organized by Kristina McMorris, who is a powerhouse in one woman alone. (This photo was taken Saturday evening by our gracious server at the Timberline Lodge, the eerily perfect location where The Shining's outdoor scenes were filmed. One of us--Sarah McCoy--was missing from the shot, unfortunately, due to an earlier departure than the rest!)

Mostly, we hung out--working some, writing some, hiking some, eating a LOT. But the best part of the weekend for me was the conversation. As a writer about to be published, it was educational and enlightening to spend three concentrated days with a group of women who have mostly already been down that road. And honestly, it was refreshing for the mystique to be slightly removed from this species as I realized how much we published and "pre-published" writers are still alike in our fears and insecurities, our dreams and goals.

It was also overwhelming. But not because of these women, who were gracious and friendly and down-to-earth and made me feel like one of them the minute we finally all convened in one place at Trader Joe's to purchase supplies before we went up the mountain. (Read: wine and chocolate.)

No, it wasn't them. It was when, at several points during the weekend, I turned to new friends and said, "Isn't it overwhelming sometimes to realize how many amazing novels are out there just waiting to be published and/or read?"

We all agreed that while the Internet is an amazing tool, has opened doors wide for writers to market their books and network with readers and other writers, it can also be a cause for panic in that moment when you begin to comprehend JUST HOW MANY novels are sent into the world each and every month, to find their way into the hands of the right readers, to swim or maybe to sink--oftentimes due not to the quality of their content, but to a little bit of luck or circumstances.

It wasn't the first time I've encountered this feeling. But it was only driven home as I sat and marveled at the sheer amount of talent in this small group of nine. This powerhouse of nine.

There was Kristina McMorris, the generous hostess who organized us and contributed more to this weekend than I'd ever be able to address in a simple blog post. Kris has already published one award-winning novel, Letters from Home (which Kim featured in an interview on www earlier this year), and she has a new one waiting in the wings, Bridge of Scarlet Leaves.

Erika Robuck's second novel Hemingway's Girl comes out in 2012, and she astounded us as she talked about the research that goes into her work. (Joan interviewed her here!).

The veteran author of the weekend, Marilyn Brant, will release her third novel, A Summer in Europe, in December, and it traveled home in my suitcase as an ARC I'm already enjoying, alongside a pair of "ugly socks." (She wanted to be sure we all had this one item critical for a writing retreat!) She pairs love stories with her love of travel and all things Jane Austen.

Therese Walsh and Jael McHenry share an amazing agent with me in Elisabeth Weed. Their debut novels, The Last Will of Moira Leahy and The Kitchen Daughter, both with elements of magical realism, were published to great anticipation in the last few years, and both are already hard at work on their next stories.

Sarah McCoy is a tiny girl with a huge heart, and she sent us all home with dried Hatch Chiles. She's already published The Time it Snowed in Puerto Rico, full of setting details from her own childhood, and her next novel, The Baker's Daughter, comes out soon and is already creating quite the buzz!

Then there was Margaret Dilloway. She might be Japanese American and nearly a decade younger, but I'm pretty sure we are twin daughters from another mother. From the moment we discovered we had the same camera as we hiked along a trail together, stopping every 30 seconds to capture another detail, until we had to say goodbye, I can't count how many times we smiled and shook our heads when one or the other of us revealed another personality quirk or life experience in common. I truly believe I'll waste away before I get to read her multicultural debut novel, How to Be An American Housewife, and close on its heels, The Care and Handling of Roses with Thorns, a family drama due out next spring.

And last, but not least, I met Sarah Callender, not yet published, but agented and revising. Down in my bones, I feel sure her fascinating story will be featured in Publisher's Marketplace sometime in the very near future. In the meantime, she entertains readers with her hilarious blog posts at Inside Out Underpants. She and Margaret and I bunked in the same condo and we're already scheming our next escape from real life.

If that much talent could be gathered in one spot, how much more must there be in the world? It makes me a little nervous for my fledgling novel, Calling Me Home. But not so nervous I'd trade the experiences I've had meeting and getting to know so many marvelously talented writers since I started this journey.

Check out some of these writers who might be new to you. I added a few to my own list this weekend! But how will I ever read all these books?! So many books, so little time ...

Big Sprawling Plots

2011-10-24T05:00:00.002-05:00

By Joan
I love reading books with big sprawling plots. Books with secrets and teases, dropped-in trinkets that ultimately lead to clever endings. And if they feature paintings and jewelry and headstones, all the better. Stories that lure you into the past, drop you in the present, and tug you back again. Take any Kate Morton novel, for example. Not only is she a master of plot, but there are little gems like scarves and storybooks and brooches that appear at the beginning, go missing, and end up on different continents perhaps decades later. It’s no secret that I’ve pulled apart her books, mapped her chapters by character and setting. Because I write what I like to read, and why not learn from a master?

I’m writing my fourth manuscript. Which by now should make me an expert. But, of course, I’m not. Confession: I’m feeling like this needs to be “the one.” Not that I would give up if it weren’t—I love writing too much—but it’s time. Julie’s success is surely motivation for all of us, but it’s more than that. I’ve worked it, really worked it. Revised, edited, put it out there for critique, revised, and edited again. I’ve backloaded sentences, cut extra words, freshened my dialogue, twisted clichés, moved chapters forward and back. But is it ready?

Keeping track of the details can be difficult. Not only the little trinkets—where is that Wexford Cutty clay pipe or the key to the mantle clock?—but also the characters. Did Luca know Janey’s name in Chapter 5 or Chapter 8? In this last round of revisions, I found ways to heighten the tension, add unique details, turn two characters into one (Hello, Simon! I knew you were a rat, but I only just realized you were other things, too!), change a scene from sneaky to emotional. (Thank you, Kim, for the advice on what to do with those hand bones!)

Have I manipulated it too much? Now that I’ve started, I can’t stop. I’ve been writing notes on slips of paper to remind myself of my genius ideas. Of course the ghost would react when her relative shows up. Hello, I need a wrap-up scene for her, too. Charles Dickens just happened to write an article about the Great Exhibition, which features prominently in The Architect at Highgate. But if anyone can tell me what “only from walls” or “reflect—Luca seemed like museum” means, I’ll send you big thanks.

At some point my big sprawling manuscript must be launched. Am I hesitating because I don’t want to make the mistakes I made with the earlier books, by sending them out too soon? Or in the wrong publishing climate? Or both? Maybe I’m afraid this won’t be the one. What then?

Yoga and Writing

2011-10-21T08:51:00.008-05:00

By Susan

I've been working way too hard on my revisions and edits lately.

Say there is no such thing? I've over-thought plot, underdeveloped character, overwritten description and sidestepped themes. I've dreamed of my manuscript--a river, an abbey, and my characters: mouths moving but without voices. So last week, I wanted to give my mind a break while moving my body. I wasn't moving forward anymore--only spinning my wheels.

I work out regularly at the gym, with a personal trainer named Stephen who has been my guy for almost five years. I know how to squat, bench, curl, and press, and the curve of my shoulders can prove it. I like to carry my own fifty-pound bag of dog food, as I tell my daughters. I'm a firm believer that you need to haul your own luggage in the airport, I say, because nobody else is going to carry it for you. And I've moved through my manuscript this way too, lately. All power, all force, carrying it all by myself.

Yet lately, I've needed a change, both in my workout routine and in my manuscript. I've taken yoga since 1992. Over the past nineteen years, I've studied and developed my practice and, even though I may not stretch every day, my body still knows a full sun salutation by heart. Over the past few weeks of struggling with my manuscript, I realized it didn't need more muscle. It needed to stretch and breathe.

And so last Monday I started a Bikram yoga class, which is a ninety-minute yoga class in a 105 degree room.

Crazy.

I went five days straight. Sweat poured from my body like a spigot. My hip flexors and hamstrings, tight from years of power lifting, cried out as I forced them to lengthen. I struggled to find my center of balance on the first day, but by day five it had come back to me. At the end of each daily class, as I lay in quiet shavasana, my mind wandered back to the manuscript. I'd been bullying my plot around for weeks, I realized. I'd forced my prose onto paper, punching the keys and boxing with words. And then it hit me right back: It wasn't working.

Sometimes, you need a little finesse. A little stretching and reaching. It still takes a lot of sweat, but with the power of a dance instead of the brute force of a bench press.

After a week of daily Bikram practice, I sat down at my keyboard with peace. What was I trying to say? What picture did I want to paint for my readers? It wasn't about forcing the door open to my own creativity with a crowbar. It was simply allowing the words that were already there to form themselves on paper. I couldn't have done it with muscle. I had to do it with breath.

I've rearranged my first twenty pages of the manuscript with the heart of a yogi, not the muscle of The Terminator.

On Wednesday I had lunch with Pamela. Still full of doubt about the new words, the scene placement, and my own insecurities, I printed the pages and spread them out on the table. I told her my worries and then sat quietly while she read (as any writer knows, this is not an easy thing to do). She had suggestions. She scribbled in the margins. And this morning--48 hours later, I've pieced it all back together like a jigsaw puzzle.

And guess what? It works. Sometimes, perhaps, we muscle through sections like a body builder. Yet at other times, we must remember the flow of words and the lyrics to the song.

This week, I did just that. And it's a better story because I stopped to breathe.

Distracted by Writing

2011-10-19T20:00:00.001-05:00

by Elizabeth

So all day long I thought it was Tuesday. It felt like Tuesday. Even though I made sure my daughter had the binder she takes to school only on Wednesday, even though I reminded my son he had his after school activity that is on Wednesday--in my head, all day long, Tuesday. Which meant that I had "blog post" written on my to-do list, and as I merrily scratched off items throughout the day, so pleased with how much I was getting done, I knew I'd get to it tonight and have it ready to roll by Wednesday morning.

Oops.

The good news is, a lot of those other to-do items had to do with writing, and even when I was marking non-writing tasks off my list (get light bulbs and Diet Coke; pick up the dry cleaning; other equally glamorous events), my brain was firmly concerned with my WIP, and it was exciting and fun.

Exciting and fun? Writing? Imagine that!

Which is really pretty great. I've set a goal to complete a draft of this manuscript by our retreat, and I'm making great progress and I think I will make the goal. Which feels terrific. But what feels even better is how alive the manuscript is becoming, how every day the characters are getting more complex and interesting, their stories more knotty, the story arc more meaningful and satisfying and all around just good.

So this felt like Tuesday, and I think that's because I'm so wrapped up with the WIP that I just forgot. I actually forgot!

I really hope it happens again.

Surprised by Writing

2011-10-17T18:00:00.000-05:00

By Pamela

A while ago, I pitched a magazine about an article on adult bullying I wanted to write. Once I got the go-ahead from the editor, I called up my expert to get his input. Little did he know, I already had a really good idea about how this article would practically write itself--loving parents stepping up and taking control of coaches and teachers who scream at and intimidate innocent kids.

Wrong.

About twenty minutes into the interview, my expert--a licensed family counselor--completely turned my preconceived notions around and the article took off in an unexpected direction. Not only did the article end up being unpredictable, but I found myself recharged by the experience.

A few weeks ago, while listening to Jamie Ford talk about his book, Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet, a member of the audience asked him if any of his characters were inspired by people he knew. Jamie described the old man in the story (as he related to his own grandfather) and also other family members who showed up in the book. As I am often wont to do (admittedly, this makes me sound vain), I pictured myself standing in front of an audience, fielding a similar question.

Crap! My characters aren't all that special because: 1) MC is a lot like me; 2) secondary character's personality is similar to my son's, and 3) other secondary character isn't really based on anyone.

Clearly, I had some work to do.

My story is about a mother and her teenage son who find themselves dealing with an unplanned pregnancy. (Which is where the son stops being based on my own, so help me, God.) But the pregnant girl became someone who I just--for lack of a better word--was winging! And yet I have a friend who runs a crisis pregnancy center!

I buried my reservations that I might be bothering a very busy woman who was out saving the world, one pregnant teen at a time, and sent her an email. She graciously responded and has put me in touch with families and resources that are taking my story in a completely different direction than I had planned.
Her encouragement for what I'd already written--based solely on my gut and vision for this story--helped fuel my excitement.

But most of all, just like my bullying article, I've come to the realization that perhaps the most predictable element about telling a story is to expect to be surprised.

A Review of Clara and Mr. Tiffany by Susan Vreeland

2011-10-14T05:00:00.001-05:00

By Kim

Synopsis of Clara and Mr. Tiffany: (from the book jacket)

Against the unforgettable backdrop of New York near the turn of the twentieth century, from the Gilded Age world of formal balls and opera to the immigrant poverty of the Lower East Side, bestselling author Susan Vreeland again breathes life into a work of art in this extraordinary novel, which brings a woman once lost in the shadows into vivid color.

It’s 1893, and at the Chicago World’s Fair, Louis Comfort Tiffany makes his debut with a luminous exhibition of innovative stained-glass windows, which he hopes will honor his family business and earn him a place on the international artistic stage. But behind the scenes in his New York studio is the freethinking Clara Driscoll, head of his women’s division. Publicly unrecognized by Tiffany, Clara conceives of and designs nearly all of the iconic leaded-glass lamps for which he is long remembered.Clara struggles with her desire for artistic recognition and the seemingly insurmountable challenges that she faces as a professional woman, which ultimately force her to protest against the company she has worked so hard to cultivate. She also yearns for love and companionship, and is devoted in different ways to five men, including Tiffany, who enforces to a strict policy: he does not hire married women, and any who do marry while under his employ must resign immediately. Eventually, like many women, Clara must decide what makes her happiest—the professional world of her hands or the personal world of her heart.

About Susan Vreeland: (from the book jacket)

Susan Vreeland is the New York Times bestselling author of five books, including Luncheon of the Boating Party, Life Studies, The Passion of Artemisia, The Forest Lover and Girl in Hyacinth Blue. She lives in San Diego.

Review:

Rarely have I started a book with such high expectations. I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting Susan Vreeland, but I consider her a mentor of sorts. She, along with Stephanie Cowell and Jane Urquhart, have shown me the world through an artist’s eyes, a crucial skill considering the novel I’m now writing.

Given that I love art, history, and stories about strong women ahead of their times, I was inclined to love Clara and Mr. Tiffany before I even opened it. When I saw that the story began in New York City in 1892, I admit my heart began to race. This was not just Clara’s world, but my great-grandfather’s. The real Clara Driscoll, while searching at the Art Students' League for suitable girls to hire, may have caught sight of an unusually tall and striking young Canadian painter named Carl Ahrens. She could have met him through Louis Comfort Tiffany, William Merritt Chase or George Inness, all of whom Carl did know, or even George Waldo, whom Carl likely knew. He may have lived in her neighborhood. I couldn’t help but see him there.

High expectations often lead to disappointment, but such was not the case with Clara and Mr. Tiffany. I found the story so engrossing, in fact, that after the first few chapters I contentedly inhabited turn-of-the-century New York without looking for my ancestor around every bend. Those who know me well will understand what a high compliment that is.

Photo by Hannes Grobe

I laughed over the antics at Clara’s boarding house, winced over the living conditions on the Lower East Side, cheered when Clara led the fight against sexism in the workplace, and cried over the death of a character I had come to love almost as much as Clara did. I also admired that Vreeland did not shy away from characters who would have been marginalized or even denounced at the time; poor immigrants, homosexuals, the handicapped. There’s even an interracial marriage. As for Mr. Tiffany, Vreeland neither put him on a pedestal nor denounced him, either of which would have made him rather a cardboard character. She let him be a man, flawed yet endearing, and he jumped off the page.

I have read a few grumbles about the length of time spent explaining the processes of making the famous Tiffany lamps. Some reviewers went so far as to say they felt like they were attending a college lecture. Yes, there’s a lot of detail about glassmaking, selecting, cutting, etc, and occasionally there are awkward bits of dialogue where the characters educate each other (and the reader.) I easily overlooked this because I’m fascinated by artistic processes of any sort. Those readers who aren’t so inclined may find themselves skimming though those parts of the novel.

I will certainly not be able to look at a Tiffany lamp or window again without thinking of Clara Driscoll.

If any of you have read Clara and Mr. Tiffany and would like to share your thoughts, we'd love to hear from you! If you have not, the novel is available at bookstores everywhere.

Breadcrumbs and Whoopie Pies

2011-10-12T19:02:00.008-05:00

By Julie

Like Hansel and Gretel’s mother, we’re always dropping bread crumbs along the path, leaving a trail for our children to follow back to home and family—even if we’re not aware we’re doing so in the process. The poor mother of those fairytale chidren secretly left crumbs, intentionally and strategically, hoping they'd be able to retrace their steps toward home after their father decided the only way for the family to survive was to sell them as indentured servants to an evil witch who actually intended to devour them.

Okay, maybe that’s kind of a morbid metaphor. But most of our regular readers here at What Women Write know several of us were inspired to write novels based on breadcrumbs of family lore—whether extensively researched stories, following the family story as closely as possible in a fictionalized account of real life (The Oak Lovers/Kim!), or simply clutching a single gem of a family secret and using it as a springboard for a—more or less—made-up story (Calling Me Home/me!). We also love interviewing authors who’ve done something similar, such as Kristina McMorris with her novel Letters from Home, Jamie Ford with Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet, and Cathy Marie Buchanan with The Day the Falls Stood Still, to name a few.

What exactly is it about our ancestors that draws us in, that makes us want to delve deep and attempt to discover what made them tick, what led them to make the decisions they made, who they loved and left (or were forcibly separated from, in the case of my grandmother) and who they stayed with? Not every one of us has these yearnings to uncover history—some of us would rather bury it, I suspect—but with some of us, the drive is deep and irresistible.

I know, too, that it’s not a drive we can force upon our children. Will my grandchildren or great-grandchildren be curious about what I did in my life? Will I have done anything interesting enough to make them determined to nose out the details or dream up their own versions? Will they study my photos, as I study my ancestors’ photos, wondering why I decided to be a writer, why I lived in so many different homes and states before I finally settled here in Texas, why I … never mind. I’ll let them discover that on their own, maybe with the help of rumors they’ve heard through the family grapevine. Maybe they will. Perhaps they won’t.

It’s the same with family traditions. We can guide our children as they grow up, hoping they’ll take an interest in the things we do every year at the same time, the recipes we cook, the photos we lovingly protect. But they may not take the bait.

My kids are interested in family history—by spells. At some times more than at others. I was thrilled this week when one of my daughters decided to take on the not-simple task of preparing Whoopie Pies from the recipe one of my grandmothers recorded carefully in her notebook of food wonders. We don’t know where Grandma got the recipe, but we know it’s absolutely the best. (None of that marshmallow fluff, none of that regular old buttercream frosting. Our soft, cocoa-flavored cookies embrace genuine, rich, creamy icing, pure white from the ungodly amount of Crisco shortening it takes to prepare it.) But I know that as a child, one of my favorite moments of every family journey to see her was the one where I rushed through the front door and headed straight for the fridge, where a batch of individually wrapped Whoopie Pies always awaited our arrival. One taste, even now, is enough to conjure up memories of those childhood visits, good or bad, joyful or sad.

I suspect you have those recipes in your family, too. Kim blogged once about the her family’s holiday sugar cookie recipe and the special cookie cutters she uses to prepare them. Are the cutters themselves magic? Is the recipe really is the best in the world? Or is it the combination of factors—the equipment, the recipe, and not least of all, the family history—that makes the outcome so special?

I am thankful for the breadcrumb my grandmother left me—a handwritten recipe, delicious in part because of the memories it stirs (but trust me, it really is the best!). I am thankful for the breadcrumb my other grandmother left me—the gem of family legend that says she fell in love with a young man who was judged inappropriate by her family and society, the true love of her life, though she spent only a small amount of time with him.

What are the breadcrumbs you’re following, leading you back in time into the vault of your own family history?

And yes, of course, this is my daughter, busy making Whoopie Pies with Sadie, one of our fur babies, who stuck close by to be sure she cleaned up anything Emilie offered—accidentally or on purpose.

The Language of Flowers

2011-10-10T05:00:00.006-05:00

by Joan

I learned of Vanessa Diffenbaugh’s Language of Flowers in a book review by one of my FaceBook writer friends, Erika Robuck, who recently blogged on WWW.

Her review convinced me that this was a book I wanted to read. And wouldn’t you know, in an instance of synchronicity, a few days later I read that Ms. Diffenbaugh was indeed visiting Highland Park United Methodist Church, as the first guest in their Authors Live series. None of my WWW ladies could go, so I dragged along a good friend, another Elizabeth (we seem to be accumulating Eliz(s)abeth's these days!).

The back cover is splashed with wonderful blurbs by some of our favorite authors (and former guests on WWW).

“A deftly powerful story of finding your way home, even after you’ve burned every bridge behind you. The Language of Flowers took my heart apart, chapter by chapter, then reassembled the broken pieces in better working condition. I loved this book."
—Jamie Ford, author of Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet

In an intimate crowd, the elegant Ms. Diffenbaugh mesmerized the audience with stories of her life as an author, mother, foster parent, and founder of an amazing non-profit, The Camellia Network. Its mission is “to activate networks of citizens in every community to provide the critical support young people need to transition from foster care to adulthood.” Later in the year, Ms. Diffenbaugh will stop by to tell us more about her labor of love.

Sometimes I go to these author talks and want so much to like the book, but it falls short somehow. Not so with The Language of Flowers. While the characters were full of flaws, the writing was flawless; in my book that makes for a dynamite combination.

Victoria is a child who perseveres despite her painful life of moving from one foster home to another, finally ending up at a group home after a brief chance at a real mother/daughter relationship. She is prickly, dramatic and striking, a mixture of thistle, roses and peony. In Victoria’s world, flowers represent all emotion, flowers speak the words and feelings she cannot. One of my favorite passages came toward the end where Victoria imagines what her world of flowers could accomplish.

“…would alter the quantities of anger, grief, and mistrust growing in the earth on a massive scale. Farmers would uproot fields of foxglove to plant yarrow, the soft clusters of pink, yellow, and cream the cure to a broken heart.”

Elizabeth, the woman who tries to adopt Victoria, is broken herself yet steadfast in her love, despite the girl’s self-sabotaging ways. While some parts of the book had me squeamish and cringing, Ms. Diffenbaugh beautifully knit the story between Victoria’s painful past and the present where she is a lesson in determination.

This is a book for mothers and daughters. It’s a book for anyone who thinks they have caused someone else pain beyond forgiveness. Or for anyone who wonders how one person can help a child acclimate to the scary world, into which each year thousands of children emancipate from foster care with twenty dollars and a lifetime of pain.

iWrite

2011-10-07T13:00:00.006-05:00

By Susan

"Things don't have to change the world to be important." -Steve Jobs, Wired, 1996

Over the past few days, I've thought about the notion of changing the world, having significance, and of simply creating rather than repeating. All of these thoughts were prompted by the death of Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple, and perhaps one of the greatest minds of our time. A man who's body of work changed the world. His creativity, genius, resiliency, and ultimately, his death, have had an impact on me-- me with my iPod, iPhone, and iPad. And it isn't just his technology that impacted me, but his vision, persistence, and perspective.

I guess one can say that anybody can create. Anyone can write a book, or run a marathon, or drive cross country. The difference between those who do and those who say they can lies in the doing. I really believe that only with vision, persistence and perspective can anything ever be achieved--but its the doing that gets them done. Steve Jobs brought it home and showed us what it looks like when you live your life without giving up, without resting, and how to live up to your full potential.

When he was fired by Apple--his own company--in 1985, he could have simply retired. Instead, he bought Pixar studios and in ten years produced Toy Story, the first fully animated feature film created solely on computers. Then he came back to Apple and created genius products that have become the gold standard in design and functionality for technology today.

I've been thinking about this. About the quitting part, especially. What if Jobs had never worked again after being fired by Apple in 1985? The world would look different today. His ideas would have stayed with him. Instead, he did things. He didn't talk about creating, daydream, or wish. He turned those visions into reality.

So I guess we really don't know if the work we do now will bear fruit. We can't predict whether our works-in-progress will be failures or successes. We don't know if training for a marathon means we will actually complete one. But I think in striving to create and succeed, we are already halfway there. I don't want to die wondering what my life would have looked like if I hadn't quit writing. Hopefully, I won't have to.

That's Outrageous!

2011-10-05T06:00:00.001-05:00

by Elizabeth

I remember a speaker at the very first writer's conference I ever went to talking about upping the stakes in your story. Character stuck in a tree? Make it rain. Character getting her heart broken? Smash her car while you're at it. You get the idea.

I've started having a lot of fun lately with my WIP. It's actually a manuscript I started a couple of years ago and set aside, worked on other stuff, and just recently came back to with the plan to be done with the first draft* by our retreat in December. Followed by the plan to query early next year. The best part of this is that it is, like I said, starting to be a lot of fun.

A big part of the fun, though, is how outrageous it is at times. In fact, that very characteristic is what had me set it aside before. Would anyone really buy that some of these people would behave this way? I'm talking in the tree and not only is it raining, but it's the biggest thunder storm in fifty years. And they're naked. That kind of outrageous.

I wrote a scene earlier today in which a couple of characters make a major life decision basically on a dare. Which is not how real people behave**, and if real people don't behave that way, why would anyone believe a fictional character would? I have other characters who exhibit jaw-dropping selfishness; another who cannot issue a compliment without it coming out an insult. Another whose sense of entitlement is elevated to an up-the-tree-naked-in-a-hurricane--and-zombies-are-roaming-the-countryside level. All of this, completely outrageous, so much I have to wonder, will the reader buy it?

Except.

Real people are outrageous. Behave outrageously. Do outrageous stuff, all the time, every day. Peruse the news, flip on the TV, heck, just check a Twitter account, and suddenly almost anything I write, no matter how high up a tree I put my people, is believable. I think half the reason it's fun to read is that we are so relieved it wasn't us. This time.

Because sometimes, it is.

*My first draft is really my second draft, because I compose longhand. As I transcribe, I complete the first round of edits. So when I show up at our lake house in December, I will have a second draft ready for the next round of revisions!

**Not that any of my events would ever be based on personal experience. Ahem. I'm not telling. You have to wait for the book. And I'm not telling then, either. Do you hear me, Terry Gross?

Who's got your back?

2011-10-03T11:59:00.001-05:00

By Pamela

Last week, the six of us spent the evening at the Richardson Reads One Book event, hearing Jamie Ford discuss his bestseller: Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet. As we were standing in line to talk to Jamie, the six of us began discussing our upcoming retreat. We really weren't all that quiet while we talked about what we loved about last year's place, where we might want to go this year, who was willing to room with whom, and so forth.

Eventually, we realized, since we were almost the last in line, we might as well let the few behind us go before us. Just like having a few more than 15 items in the express lane, we figured it was only fair not to make the others wait. (We knew we'd want to chat with Jamie and maybe talk him into a photo op.)

As we let the others go ahead of us, a lady who graciously moved up in the queue leaned in and asked me, "Are y'all related?" I wondered if she thought we might be planning a family reunion--a gathering of sisters or cousins who really don't resemble each other that much.

"No," I said. "We're writers."

But maybe I answered too quickly because we are a family. We're bonded in a way that makes me know I have five women who have my back. And while we've never lived under one roof (except for during our annual retreats, which last three days and nights), we do reach out to each other--either over lunch, phone calls or emails.

Not a day goes by that I don't hear from at least one of the other five. And even though, due to work and family commitments and the distance between our homes, we don't get together as often as we'd like, we might meet two or three at a time.

When Susan transitioned from full-time, work-at-the-office employee to work-from-home consultant, she and I met for lunch and talked for hours about her new role. When Julie's book deal went to auction, Susan grabbed lunch and half a dozen cupcakes and went over to Julie's house to hold vigil, while we all eagerly waited to hear the news. This week, Elizabeth and I have a lunch date planned to discuss her new manuscript and figure out some details about where mine is heading. And next month, Joan and I are driving to Austin for a Writers' League of Texas workshop we both thought would serve us well.

Last week I paid the deposit on our new retreat location at a lake house that usually hosts scrap-bookers. (A couple of emails went around to explain to Susan what the heck a 'crop table' was; we'll use them for critique sessions.) When I told the home's owner that we were a group of writers, she said, "Oh, we've never had writers before."

"Well, we're a lot of fun," I told her. "We're like sisters."

If you write and don't have the support of like-minded souls, I urge you to get out there. Write in public, don't hesitate to tell others that you're a writer, attend author events, seek out writing groups, go to conferences, check out online groups like Backspace. I know my life has been made all the more richer because I got out from behind my computer and met My Fabulous Five.

Envy

2011-09-30T05:00:00.000-05:00

By Kim

When I was in graduate school, a little book called The Bridges of Madison County was huge, and trashing it was one of the most popular sports in the English department. Professors and creative writing students alike could not find a single thing to like about the plot, the writing, the characters, or even the setting which, seeing that the school was located less than an hour away from those famed ‘bridges,’ seemed odd.

As fifty million copies of this “pretentious fluff” (as professors repeatedly called it) sold, the nastiness escalated, and I began to dread going to class. I had picked up the novel the previous summer because it looked like an entertaining love story– something I was certain not to have time to read once I started school. I got exactly what I paid for–two hours of entertainment.

Kim and her mom at one of the "bridges" in 1994

I enjoyed the book. I even visited Madison County because I happen to like covered bridges. Clearly there was something wrong with me. Maybe I didn’t recognize good writing. Maybe I wasn’t smart enough to make it in academia. I sunk lower into my seat and kept my mouth shut, not wanting to announce my ignorance to the brilliant masses.

And then I realized something. The most vocal of my professors was an author, too. An author whose book didn’t sell so well. In fact, the only place it could be found (pre-amazon.com days) was at a local bookstore. I read it. I could not have named a single character or plot point a week later.

Those students who bashed Waller the most violently were the same ones who had nothing good to say about anyone else’s work in critique sessions. They read their own work aloud with a smirk, laughed at their own jokes and paused at key areas to make sure everyone listening had time to appreciate their clever turns of phrase. They ignored all feedback, so I never offered any.

I lacked the courage at twenty-one to speak up and say I thought the bashing stemmed from jealousy or insecurity, but I made up my mind not fall victim to that poison. I don’t bash. Not even among friends. Not even in my own mind.

The way I look at it, if a book has become a runaway bestseller, there must be a reason behind it. It may not be the writing. How many non-writers focus on that? The plot may have been done thousands of times before, but the formula clearly worked. Maybe there’s something in the story that hits an emotional chord with millions in 2001 but would mean little in 2011. I read those books writers love to hate, looking for that element that sets those stories apart from the crowd. Is it something that I can identify? Can I use it to make my own work more compelling?

Tearing another author down won’t make anyone a better writer. Learning from the mistakes and successes of others will. Envying another writer’s dream book deal (Julie Kibler!) won’t help anyone secure one of their own. Viewing that book deal as evidence that dreams can come true, even for debut authors? I call that motivation.

Where two or more gather, let there be cake!

2011-09-28T20:26:00.016-05:00

By Julie

Look at us! Quite the fangirls as we converged upon Richardson High School for the Richardson Reads One Book event featuring the recipient of our first honorary tiara, Jamie Ford, New York Times Bestselling author of Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet.

We'll use almost any excuse to gather and gab and eat as a group. The six of us are spread to the far corners of DFW (Dallas/Ft. Worth!), and it doesn't happen every week.

It's even more gratifying when we get to experience a writer's event together. And this is a HUGE event--1500 to 2000 in attendance each year with big names like Jodi Picoult, Khaled Hosseini, Garth Stein, Chris Bohjalian, Jeanette Walls, Catherine Ryan Hyde, and David Oliver Relin/Greg Mortensen in previous years.

One of our earliest gatherings as a group was at Jamie's booksigning event at the Crow Collection of Asian Art in Dallas way back in 2009--the very day Jamie learned he was on the New York Times Bestseller List! It was exciting to see him again last night and learn how far he's come in his publishing journey.

I've known Jamie on Backspace and Facebook for a few years, but still, imagine my surprise and slight faint feeling when Jamie snuck in a congratulations about my book deal near the end of his talk. My fellow What Women Write'ers took up all my slack by making lots of noise and pointing while I sat there stunned. (This book deal thing has been a pretty surreal experience. I pinch myself daily at least a few times!)

I recovered, and we waited until the book signing line wound down to chat with Jamie for a bit, where he graciously posed for the above photo with the six of us.

At one point in the Q&A, someone asked what Jamie's favorite part of the publication process has been. He said it was meeting other authors--not just the multipublished, big deal authors like his writer idol, Pat Conroy, but the hopeful, aspiring ones, too.

I quite agree. For me, that's been one of the best parts of this journey so far. I mean, look at these five amazing women I wouldn't know otherwise: Elizabeth, Kim, Joan, Pamela, and Susan.

And speaking of amazing ... this next part could look like a brag on me, but it's not. It's a brag on Pamela and on every one of these women.

We made another stop after the talk at the newly opened In-N-Out Burger in ... I don't know where, somewhere near Richardson, ostensibly to eat dinner and chat a while longer. We always run into this problem after events that last past 9 p.m. or so in DFW--everything closes by 10! So we're always having to be creative. Sometimes we just end with hugs all around and promises to plan ahead better the next time.

We were almost to that point last night when someone remembered In-N-Out stays open late. I said, "Let's try it and if it's closed, let's just go on."

Now, I'm usually all for staying up past bedtimes. I'm a night owl, and I'm proud of it. But last night, everyone got kind of sqirmy when I said that--not that I really noticed.

Turns out Pamela had made this cake. This incredible, unbelievable, unquestionably coolest cake I've ever seen--a prototype of my future book cover, complete with the tiny little car holding driver and passenger pegs representing my beloved Dorrie and Isabelle and words Pamela pulled from the humbling notes I've received from editors who bought the book. (Seriously, I loved my wedding cake, but gosh!!!)

And NOBODY was going home until we found a place to eat it. I laughed and choked up all at once when Pamela emerged from her vehicle carrying this masterpiece, finally clued in to why everyone was desperate to find a place last night of all nights.

We did eat cake, though I very neurotically cut pieces from the edge and from the corners so I could take all the words and decorations home intact to show my family. And we've been eating cake all day.

But Jamie's right. So much of the time, in writing and in life, it's about the relationships.

These are my girls. I love them.

What I Learned From Picture-a-Day

2011-09-26T06:00:00.000-05:00

by Joan

Every morning of my son’s senior year, I downed enough coffee to perk me up to take a decent picture before he ran out the door. Occasionally I'd review them, but at that point the experience of the moment outweighed the end product.

Here we are a month after the last hug I’ll have for a while and sometimes I revisit those images when I’m missing Austin the most. What I wouldn’t give to see his nose in a magazine or newspaper next to a bowl of sugary milk, to welcome him down the stairs, willing to pose yet again, to see his proud smile showing off the place he will call home for the next four years.

Scrolling through the images now, I notice subtle differences over time: increasingly tired eyes from late nights studying, overdue haircuts, and as the year progresses, diminishing stress levels as college acceptances arrive, relief when a final choice is made and finally, celebration after the last test and graduation ceremonies.

Yesterday I had a brilliant idea. It would make much more sense to get a daily picture now, while he’s half way across the country! So I texted him:

“Can you text me a picture?”

“Sure, why?” (attaches image, though his back is to the light and it’s not a great shot)

“Cause I’m blogging about how we should have done a college picture-a-day project since now I can’t see the real thing every day. And by the way, Dad says the picture will come out better if you face the window instead.”

“I’ll agree for the picture, but let’s not make this a habitual thing.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to do that!” Dang, I guess he won’t go for it.

“Haha, okay, here you go.”

It won’t surprise you to know I hope my husband and I have done a good job. I get a kick out of revisiting the past year and miss Austin's face every day.

If I’ve done my job with my manuscript, readers will want to revisit the images of The Architects at Highgate. (Yes, beta readers, I realize adding an “s” does not adequately change the title!) They will fall in love with my characters as the story unfolds, yearn to know what those characters are doing long after they close the book.

As I add the finishing touches I need to ask myself: After living with Gabriel, Luca, Janey and Aidan over the course of the book, have I left my readers wanting more?

I won’t have more pictures-a-day of Austin this year, but most days we text and we talk to him via FaceTime once a week. Yesterday he said he bought some cereal and, in my mind’s eye, each morning he reads the school newspaper next to his bowl of sugary milk. And next month I’ll get a real hug.

Let's Get It Started

2011-09-23T11:30:00.000-05:00

By Susan

As some of you may know, my husband is a fantastic cook. He plans a meal by spending hours kicked back, scanning Cook's Illustrated, his fingers delicately flipping pages until he smiles, "Ah ha. Yes. This is it." He starts with someone else's recipe, then sets the book aside and makes it his own.

He begins his biggest productions with appetizers: goat cheese and sun dried tomatoes with garlic oil on crustinis paired with the perfect wine. Or maybe an opening course of French onion soup, salty and earthy in a crock full of bread and covered in Gruyere. (To the left is a shot of his sauteed risotto cakes with marinara from scratch.) The beginning, he tells me, prepares the guest for the food to come. It sets the palate. It gives you a taste for the flavor of the meal. It takes research, attention to detail, and flavor.

In my quest for the best possible beginning for my manuscript, I held a mini-workshop for myself last night, and I thought I would share it with you. In many ways, your opening scene is your appetizer to your meal. As I set the tone for my story, I can't help but think about the way my husband plans a meal. If this is helpful, let me know!

Here were my self-imposed assignments:
Read The First Ten Pages of My Favorite Novels (Read the recipes)Here are some opening lines: (Can you match them with the author and title? See the end of the post for answers)

“My wound is geography. It is my anchorage, my port of call.”
“You better not never tell nobody but God. It’d kill your mammy.”
“When he was thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow.”
“I became what I am today at the age of twelve, on a frigid overcast day in the winter of 1975.”
“At night I would lie in bed and watch the show, how bees squeezed through the cracks of my bedroom wall and flew circles around the room, making that propeller sound, a high—pitched zzzzzz that hummed along my skin.”
“Alice Della Rocca hated ski school.”

What can I learn from these writers and their opening scenes? What is the pace? What tone do these opening pages set for the entire work?

Decide What I Want to Say (What are my ingredients?)
1) Who do I want to introduce?
2) What theme do I want to share?
3) Is my goal to paint a picture of setting, character, plot or all three?

Determine My Audience (Prepare the Palate)
Am I writing to impress someone or writing to tell a story? (To tell a story). What is the story I am attempting to tell? Is that story succinct or fractured? What is the strongest possible scene that can create interest and get that message across? Is it a scene I’ve already written or do I need to start again?

Clean It Up (Attention to detail)Is my formatting correct? Do I have consistent errors, typos, and mistakes that I can’t see?

There's more to an opening scene than just clean grammar and the introduction of characters. I want to make sure I am true to the work, true to the tone, and true to the theme from the first page forward. Just like a fine dinner, I want my novel to be an experience. And I want to prepare the reader, just as my husband prepares dinner guests, for a fantastic meal.

In your own work, revisit your beginning. Does it showcase your story and make the reader want more? The answer is one you may never know. Just don't allow self-doubt to cripple your voice. Write what you love, and write it because you love it. Hopefully, others will love it too.

Answers to opening lines:

Pat Conroy, The Prince of Tides

Alice Walker, The Color Purple

Harper Lee, To Kill A Mockingbird

Khaled Hosseini, The Kite Runner

Sue Monk Kidd, The Secret Life of Bees

Paolo Giordano, The Solitude of Prime Numbers

Wanna Hear Jamie Ford Speak?

2011-09-21T06:00:00.005-05:00

by Elizabeth

Living in greater Dallas, we sometimes feel like we have an embarrassment of wonderful author opportunities. In various groupings, the six of us have seen terrific writers speak, and those author events are among my favorite meetings our group undertakes.

One of the best opportunities, in my opinion, is an annual celebration of a writer sponsored by the Richardson Library. That library is not only home to The Writer's Guild of Texas, where the six of us had our first taste of professional presentation as writers early this year, but just a great place to go, hang out, relax on couches, and read. I'm lucky enough that I often swing by while my son takes Tae Kwan Do two freeway exits south, though it's not quite as close for some of the others.

The writer event the library sponsors is Richardson Reads One Book. To give you an idea of the caliber of this annual event, take a look at the writers featured in past years:

The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein (2010)
Three Cups of Tea by David Oliver Relin and Greg Mortenson (2009)
Before You Know Kindness by Chris Bohjalian (2008)
The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls (2007)
My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult (2006)
The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini (2005)
Pay it Forward by Catherine Ryan Hyde (2004)

Hardly a shabby list.

Jamie Ford

When the 2011 selection was announced, we here at WWW felt a special jubilation, as Joan had bestowed an honorary tiara on Jamie Ford here at the blog. Way back in 2009 we knew he was something special!

Next Tuesday, most of us will convene at Richardson High School, a mere three miles or so from the Richardson Library, and join some two thousand other happy readers to listen to Jamie talk about his book. Tickets are long gone, but there's still a chance to join us (and the rest of the crowds) if you live close or close enough to make the drive. The Richardson Library has kindly allotted us two pairs of tickets to hand out to our readers, and the first two commenters who want 'em, get 'em. Post a comment asking for the tickets, include an email, and I'll get in touch with you and pop your pair into the mail.

And while you're at it, share your favorite author encounter if you feel inclined. Mine? Well, did you read the blog Monday? I'd have to say that right now, it will be Tuesday, when I get to see my new favorite author in person for the first time since she signed a deal.

Julie's Big News

2011-09-19T10:36:00.000-05:00

By Pamela


Kim, Julie, Pamela, Elizabeth, Joan and Susan

Last November at our writing retreat five of us sat at the long wooden dining room table and listened as Julie read to us the unfolding love story of Isabelle and Robert. Back then she called it All the Things You Are, inspired by the popular song of that era when the story takes place.

Over the next few months, her story would grow and change, new titles would be batted around for us to test drive, and we hungrily waited for the first-final draft to show up in our inboxes. I remember the night I finished her story, with tears streaming down my cheeks, I texted Julie even though it was well past midnight. (She's a night owl and I knew she'd be up.) I can't remember what I wrote exactly, but I'm pretty sure it was something along the lines of: You've done it! This is the one! I knew it. We all knew it.

This summer, finally satisfied that her revisions were complete, Julie sent out query letters to a few agents and received a request for the full and from her 'dream agent' Elisabeth Weed and later signed with Weed Literary to represent her story, now titled: Calling Me Home.

For the past two weeks, Julie has been sharing news with us regarding the overwhelming response to her story from people outside our circle of six who have echoed our sentiments. I've seen Julie vacillate between disbelief and shock and finally joy with a healthy dose of gratitude.

Today we're able to share with you what we've been dying to shout from the rooftops across north Texas.

Julie has a book deal!

From today's Publisher's Marketplace, the Deal of the Day:

Fiction: Debut: Julie Kibler's CALLING ME HOME, in which an 89-year-old recounts the story of her forbidden relationship with the black son of her family's housekeeper and its tragic consequences in 1930s Kentucky, as she travels cross-country to a funeral with her dear friend, a young black hairstylist with family troubles of her own, to Hilary Rubin Teeman at St. Martin's, at auction, for publication in 2013, by Elisabeth Weed at Weed Literary (US/CAN/OM).

elisabeth@weedliterary.com

Foreign rights: to Jenny Geras at Pan Macmillan in a pre-empt, to Piper in Germany, to Belfond in France, to Aschehoug in Norway, to Artemis in Holland, to Novo Conceito in Brazil by Jenny Meyer at Jenny Meyer Literary Agency on behalf of Elisabeth Weed.

Keeping it real

2011-09-16T12:04:00.005-05:00

By Julie

I’ve been losing weight slowly over the last 18 months or so, figuring that’s the best way to do it and keep it off. It’s working so far, but I got into a slump over the summer and that number just kept going up and down two or three pounds, over and over. I finally climbed back on the wagon a few weeks ago with the help of an iPhone app called Lose It! recommended by my wonderful foster daughter, who is grown now with kids of her own and baby weight she’s trying to lose.

The weight is now steadily coming off again, just like it’s supposed to. And who knew? It really is about calories. Counting fat grams and exercising like a madwoman can’t hurt, and are certainly good for my heart and health in general, but the weight loss is all about the calories in the end.

This morning, I got on the scale, and as usual, the number was one thing the first time, and another the second—the second being higher. Of course, I got on and off several times, hoping it would be the lower number again, but it stuck. Lose It! lets you enter your daily weight whenever you want to, and I thought about putting the lower number. After all, it came up first, right? But in the interest of keeping it real, I’m entering the number that stuck—even if the first one sounded good.

We try hard here at What Women Write to keep it real, too. We do our best to approach authors we feel confident about when considering interviews—ones we believe we’ll enjoy reading and want to recommend to our readers. Ever so rarely, it gets awkward, but 99.99% of the time, when we do our homework, it turns out well. I believe we’ve compiled a pretty remarkable archive of helpful, interesting interviews about authors and their books.

On a similar note, we were going to run a contest on the blog today, as we have in the past, for a prize pack offered in conjunction with a new movie release. Several of us attended a screening of the movie and decided in the end, it really wasn’t for our audience given much gratuitous violence, most especially one particular act of violence to a woman.

So, in the interest of keeping it real and being faithful to our audience and our personal convictions, we’re not going to offer the giveaway.

I worried a bit about the reaction of the promoter, as we really do enjoy these screenings that often relate to writing in some vein. I sent a note with my honest reaction and said we hoped the promoter would keep us in mind for future screenings and giveaways regardless. I was so pleased to receive a reply thanking me for my honesty and assuring no offense was taken.

Doesn’t it seem like life often works like that? Not always, but as a rule, if you keep it real, things work out well in the long run.

If I don’t fool myself about my weight, I’m going to slowly and steadily get to that number I want to see before I go get those official author photos I hope to need one day soon!

And if we don’t fool ourselves about what we like just for the sake of giving away a prize, our readers here will keep trusting us to deliver information about the stories we believe in.

Happy weekend, readers. Keep it real!

The Things We Don't Get Done

2011-09-14T06:00:00.003-05:00

by Elizabeth

One of the biggest challenges for many writers, this one in particular, is actually sitting down to write. There are probably few writing books or articles that don't stress that to be a writer, one needs to write. Butt-in-chair--I'm not even sure who that line originated with, but it's advice with which I often chide myself. Whether the book's advice is a number of words a day, or a routine, or a place, or whatever, the sentiment is largely the same: a writer writes. Which means spending time writing, which means doing the hardest task many a procrastinating writer undertakes: sitting down in front of a blank screen or empty notebook and scrawling down word after word until the chore becomes a habit, or better still, an addiction. Write.

So this is something I struggle with and, with the fresh binders and clean new backpacks of the new school year, combined with the excitement of Julie's accomplishments, something that's been on my mind a lot. To a good extent, I've stepped up to the challenge. My composition is usually done in those spiral notebooks that go on sale for a penny each right after the back-to-school rush, and I've half-filled a yellow one with a new story since my kids went back to class. A few chapters in, a new idea, it's not bad but it's still not as much B-i-C time as it could have been. No one is more aware of this than I.

Oh, sure, there have been trees to get trimmed and plumbing issues that have been put off all summer long, a cracked stovetop to deal with, the usual mounds of laundry, carpool anew. Stuff, life, and I've been dealing with that, but of course I could spend more time writing than I do. Of course I could. Butt-in-chair.

The routine I followed when I wrote my first, and to some extent, second, novel, really isn't working so well anymore. I'd decamp to a coffee shop, ponder until the muse struck (I suspect my muse is quieter than some other folk's muses, maybe because I am so dang loud myself it's hard to hear her), and then pound out words until they stopped. Clearly stopped, and like with eating the right amount and not too much, it ended with a sigh. Satisfaction, completion; it was nearly always clear I'd come to a good stopping place, a good session completed, and real accomplishment achieved. Lately, though, I struggle harder than ever to hear the muse, and when I do stop, it's with more of a grunt of lost steam than a sigh of satiation, and it's just not as much fun. Before, I'd finish up and get on with my day knowing I'd done what needed to be done. More often than not now, when I finish I do so with the hope that there will be another round of B-i-C later. There rarely is.

But it feels like time, it is a-wasting. Like I've spent too much time making excuses, doing other things that might need doing, but that will still be there to do and do again whether I write or not. So rather than doing those things, I should write. Find the satisfying sigh. Finish the multiple projects that have stalled a quarter or halfway through.

I have a few friends who write the best Christmas letters. One of them was a college friend, a woman who's wedding I went to, who was having her first child the year I got engaged, who went on to have four daughters and non-Hodgkin's lymphoma and still wrote the most wonderful Christmas-and-other letters until they stopped coming. My own kids had arrived by then, life was a locomotive, the towers fell down, and I never did connect with her again. It's been I guess over ten years now since I heard from her, and though I did make a few cursory attempts at Googling her, I somehow lost her around the time she moved into a new house and I moved halfway across the country, and I never did find her again.

Until today. It occurred to me to Google her hometown paper, not even knowing if it was still in print, and there it was. An obituary, from August 2002. She's been gone nine years and I never really knew it.

One of the last letters I got from her talked about writing, how she hoped to pen a bedtime book some day. She knew I harbored the dream of a career as a novelist as well, and though I haven't rifled through my box of old letters today, I'm pretty sure if I did I would find words of encouragement from her in them, urging me to use my gift, urging me to go for it.

If she'd ever managed that bedtime book, Google would have found her on Amazon. I'd like to think she wrote one just for her girls, and I believe that's likely. But for publication, the dream we all dream, for her, it's too late. But not for me. B-i-C.

Rest in peace, Angela.

Lynda Rutledge stops by to talk about the craft and her new book: Faith Bass Darling's Last Garage Sale

2011-09-12T13:11:00.000-05:00

By Pamela Hammonds

Lynda Rutledge

I first learnedabout Lynda Rutledge when I opened an email promoting a Writers’ League of Texas workshop she’s teaching. Curiosity led me to her website where Idiscovered she has a new book coming out this spring via Amy Einhorn Books: Faith Bass Darling’s Last Garage Sale.Here’s the book’s blurb from the publisher:

ON THE LAST DAY ofthe millennium, sassychain-smoking, 70-year-old Faith Bass Darling is selling all her valuableworldly possessions at a garage sale on the lawn of her historic Bass, Texas,mansion. Why? God told her to.

Because she knows what this is about. It's about dying, and about killing herlong-gone husband, Claude. As the townspeople grab up the family's heirlooms,the antiques of five generations of Faith's founding family—a Civil Wardragoon, a wedding ring, a French-relic clock, a family Bible, a roll top desk,an entire room of Tiffany lamps–reveal their own secret roles in the familysaga, inspiring life's most imponderable questions:

Do our possessions possess us?
What are we without our memories?
Is there life after death?
Or second chances here on earth?

And is Faith Darling REALLY selling that 1917 Louis Comfort Tiffany lamp for$1...?

Intrigued and eager to learn more about this debut author, Iasked her to join us here today at What Women Write.

PAMELA

Welcome to What Women Write! I love the premise of yournovel, but you have to dish with us here … how many others did you write andput under the proverbial bed before this story grabbed you and wouldn’t let go?

LYNDA

Oh, no-no-no! I'm one of those mythical writers who sold herdebut novel on her very first try—in fact, her very first uncorrected draft! Aren'twe all? You know, I once heard Charles Johnson, a National Book Award winner,admit he wrote six unpublished novels before he sold his first. My own story isnot that extreme, but there were several, shall we say, "practicenovels" before this one as I kept playing with the genre—writing for lovewhile writing for money as a freelance journalist and professional writer. The trick is to KNOW they are practice novels,which, of course, is utterly impossible at the time. So part of the trick isnot to bail out before reaching the one that is publishable. Everything in lifeis a journey, isn't it? So is creative writing. If you keep on keeping on, andstay in love with the creative process itself, good things often happen as youget smarter, wiser and defter with the form when the right idea finally comesalong. And that really is my story, I think, as well as yours and lots of yourreaders. Right?

PAMELA

Completely. I tell my kids that famous artists never soldtheir first paintings, so therefore, I plug away! By the way, I love southernfiction, especially humorous stories that are larger than life. Where did theinspiration for Faith Bass Darling and her story come from?

LYNDA

Would you believe me if I say, I have no idea? That's thewonder of the creative muse. On the face of it, Faith Bass Darling's Last Garage Sale is humorous and southern, butthere's a lot happening under the surface that's universal about the humancondition to do with what we can't take with us and what we truly want to leavebehind. Humor is in service to the truths, just as in life. So the real inspirationcomes from just living long enough to see the absurd in everything as well asits serious layered meaning for how to move forward with hope. But if there's a specific answer inside thatgeneral one, this'd be it: My mom, whohad a rambling old two-story house full to busting with stuff that five kidsleft behind, started having garage sales a few years after I finished college.I found this out, living thousands of miles away by that time, when she calledto tell me she'd sold my long-forgotten stash of comic books yellowing in theback of one of the house's old closets (my dad owned a drugstore so I hadhundreds) for a dime apiece. It was an inexplicably sad moment. Then I rememberlaughing at myself, surprised by my hurt feelings. Why was I so attached tothose old things? But I was. Then, back a few years ago, I began watching Antiques Roadshow like everyone else inthe known world, and after hearing dozens of spotlight stories of garage sale-foundtreasures, the ah-ha bolt of lightning struck. And I was off.

PAMELA

My mom had a tendency to give away everything we had outgrown and stopped playing with. Now I'm a borderline hoarder! I can't bear to part with my kids' things, especially toys they loved playing with. But then I read you’ve sold foreign rights in Italy and France. Howexciting! I wonder what those readers will think about Faith’s garage sale.And, you asked it first: Do they even have garage sales?

LYNDA

And moreover, do they even have garages? Don't you love it? I'mtold selling such major rights of an unknown writer such as moi, long before publication, is a hugevote of confidence for possible success. Boy, I sure hope so! I chuckled,though, contemplating Faith and the gang's small-town comments being translatedinto French and Italian, and shook my head at how they'd ever explain the"garage sale" concept to European readers. Even the title will haveto change, probably. "Garage Sale" is such an American term. Butisn't it wonderful that they'll try? The French have what they call fleamarkets, I think, and the Italians have something similar as well. But the loveof antiques and the hunt to find such treasures in other people's "trash"is universal, isn't it?

PAMELA

Absolutely! My husband wonders how I can spend hours comingthrough “used stuff” but for me, it’s a treasure hunt. On your blog you adviseother writers to read, read, read. I agree whole-heartedly. It’s akin to aperson who wants to be a famous singer but never listens to music. I think allgood writers must read and read outside the genre they write as well. Whatauthors inspire your writing?

LYNDA

As an adjunct professor in Chicago, teaching in a departmentdevoted exclusively to creative writing, I started each course with this veryquestion. After all, the students were there to learn how to write fiction, sosurely they read a lot of it. I kept being shocked that many couldn't listwriters they read beyond ones they were required to read in school. So thetopic became a very important first day discussion: Why is reading as a writer important? Beyond knowing what's being published inorder to be published yourself, you, the writer-in-training, should feel asense of joy in stumbling on a good book by a new voice, right? After all, youwant to be a voice that others discover yourself. But beyond that, it's afundamental writing life dynamic: Justlike the way a song can stick on your mind, words stick—cadences and images andthoughts stick—and you're always a better writer and thinker because of it.

Words are you; you are words; be awash in them, am I right? As for me, I havesuch eclectic tastes and been influenced so broadly, my own inspiring writers’list would be ridiculously long and crazy. But there's method in myreading-as-a-writer madness: Once you decide what genre will be your home, atleast for a certain project, another grand side effect of broad reading tastesacross genres is how everything is fodder for your creative cauldron—newspaperheadlines, narrative nonfiction, memoirs, cereal boxes, even old love letters(as seen in Faith Bass Darling's LastGarage Sale.) Ideas are everywhere, waiting to be thrown into yoursimmering stew. It's so much fun to be reading as a writer, antennasubconsciously up, and be suddenly compelled to put down the book or articleand go jot down an idea it gave you out of the blue.

But back to your specific question: My inspiring author list, depending on howwhat year I was inspired, would include the Nancy Drew and Hardy Boy mysteriesdevoured as a 10-year-old, along with a current bookcase-full of fiction andnonfiction writers—famous and not-so-famous, living and dead, and all fordifferent reasons worthy of an entire discussion itself—such as Harper Lee,Kurt Vonnegut, Marilynne Robinson, Flannery O'Connor, Bill Bryson, GabrielGarcia Marquez, John Krakauer, Yann Martel, Annie Dillard, Randall Kenan, andthe next one I happily discover.

PAMELA

Your background is very impressive: past winner of the WLT'sNarrative Nonfiction Manuscript Competition and an adjunct professor forColumbia College's Fiction Writing Department as well as having national andinternational publishing credits as a freelance writer. But I had to laugh whenI read your blog as you detail one morningwhere you committed to getting up early to write. I have the same issues aboutearly-morning writing. What advice can you give about finding the time towrite?

LYNDA

So fun you read that. Who said that half the secret tosuccess is showing up? The times I've tried to show up in the morning, though,the hallowed time most authors seem to prefer, that little timeline diary showswhat happens. I love late night—late-late-late night—no distractions, nothingbut quiet. But I always pay for it the next day, of course. Still, it works forme. And being a nervous-energy writer, I love my laptop; I use it here, there,everywhere. However, the truth? I write all day in the sense of nurturing a senseof creativity "as I go."

You can imagine how many napkins I'vescrawled on and pens I've borrowed. I've even called myself at home and leftmessages of thoughts I didn't want to forget. I hate texting—who wants to usethumbs to hunt/peck when you've spent 20 years perfecting the perfect Qwertytyping speed? But I bet that's what I do next. Or not. We'll see. All that tosay the real writer is always writing—even when she isn't. I recall the momentin my late 20s that I realized I could actually stand in waiting lines withoutgrumbling because I always had something to work on in my mind. That moment Iknew I was a writer. And that would be my advice—make all your time writingtime, because writing is much more than typing words on a page.

PAMELA

My worst habit is scribbling notes for a story on the churchbulletin. Surely God will forgive me? Lynda, I’m so awed when writers findsuccess and then pay it forward by helping fellow writers realize theirpublishing dreams. You’ve adapted the popular course you taught at Chicago'sColumbia College into a three-hour workshop to help writers develop the skillsneeded to guide their manuscripts toward publication by sharing what you knowabout the publishing world. (Or, as you put it, by comprehending the Why,Where, How and "Oww" of Submission.) What did you learn when sendingout: Faith Bass Darling’s Last Garage Sale and what do you hope people learn most by attending your class?

LYNDA

I learned that Hemingway was right when he said he neverfinished a novel, he "abandoned" it. But what he didn't mention,being Hemingway, is that before that moment, you will be revising and revisingand revising AFTER you "finish" it and WHILE you are beginning itssubmission journey.

And what I'm about to tell you and your readers will makeyou heave a weary sigh after all your hard work if you don't already know: Writingreally is a process. So is publishing. And the agent submission process, whichis the real hurdle for first time authors, is part of the creative process. I'msure most of your readers have heard agents say, during panels at conferences,that the first mistake writers make is to submit work too early, long beforeit's publishing-ready. Since we all do it, and will continue to do it, why notmake it work for us? Making a researched potential agent list, carefullysubmitting, and pausing after every handful of rejections to rethink and inputchanges is crucial. I know that sounds weird, but agents now serve as gatekeepers. And in that role, they can be an incredibletool for manuscript development once you accept that your finished book isn't reallyfinished.

That's what I learned while submitting Faith Bass Darling's Last Garage Sale more than any other thing. Withsuch feedback on my first submissions, I made changes needed to make it workfor others as much as it did for me—but only after more than one top agent tookthe time to say so. And that hones a writer's own editorial and critical skillsas well. Then the right top agent said yes, talked me into changing my titlefrom The Last Garage Sale, to Faith Bass Darling's Garage Sale, a verygood revision itself, before she sold it to a top editor renowned for her own editorialskills.

Oh, sure we'd all love the first agent to fall in love withour manuscript, not change a word, and sell for big bucks. That's probably notgoing to happen. Why? Not because you aren't brilliant, but because there is somuch at stake for everyone concerned. Beingprofessional is embracing the revision process, trusting it will improve theoutcome without ruining your vision or voice. Writing really is rewriting, upto the very last minute.

Of course, we need to use common sense, too, since agentsare human and can also go overboard, as well as just be flat-wrong for you: Afterwinning the WLT Narrative Nonfiction Manuscript Competition (which by the wayis one of the best feedback resources out there and well worth the money. Here'san article about my experience Writers League of Texas asked me to writefor Scribe, FYI.

I remember an agent I met as part ofwinning asked me, without ever having read a word, whether I'd have troublewith revising because that was her modus operandi. My first thought was: "Perhaps you'dlike to read it first before you decide you want to revise it?" Her zealwas a bit over-the-top, even for an agent. And it was a nice, big red flag. Iknew I'd be doing revisions, but the way she broached it was all wrong for me.

So what is your job after you've put that last period onyour last sentence? Being very careful with your baby. You now need to switchhats to sell it, and you can, even if the thought makes you apoplectic. Nobodycares as much as you do and nobody ever will. That's what we'll be discussing in my WLT half-daycourse: an overview of the skills you'll need to find publication once you andyour idea are ready. And you don't have to have a finished manuscript to gainfrom this short course; in fact, it could help you as you finish it.

Beyond talking about how to create letters that willactually be read, we'll hone in on the right and wrong ways to do your homeworkto find the agents who are good matches for your work, including a littleworkshop effort, and then how to use those rejection letters to your advantage.A grasp of the ways of the publishing world will put you years ahead of otheraspiring writers in seeing your manuscript in print. And we'll have a lot offun, too, just chewing the fat about the whole experience, as I've done in thislong answer, actually; that's a promise.

PAMELA

Can you give us an idea on what you’re working on next?

LYNDA

Two ideas are percolating, actually, one to do with 1964 andCorvairs, the other to do with 1940 and giraffes. Where either of them go, ifthey go at all or replaced by something juicier, is the mystery and the fun ofthis writing life, isn't it?

PAMELA

My dad had a Corvair! Probably one about that time. Iremember a picture of it—and Ralph Nader calling it ‘unsafe at any speed.’ Mademe glad my dad installed his own seatbelts in it! And of course, giraffes arealways fun to read about.

Lynda, thanks so much for being with us today on What WomenWrite. Be sure to alert us when Faith Bass Darling’s Last Garage Sale hits booksellers and we’ll remind our readersto get a copy. Plus, if you tour north Texas to promote it, we’ll be there!

Lynda’s class willbe held October 8 from 1-4 p.m. at St. Edwards University, Trustee Hall 104, inAustin. There are currently spots still available for you to attend. Click here to register. You need not be a member of WLT to attend.

Simplify, Simplify

2011-09-09T10:00:00.002-05:00

By Susan

My twelve-year-old and I spent early August in Northern California on a mother-daughter getaway. We visited family in the Bay area, took an Amtrak train up the coast, hiked in the Sierras. On our second day in the city, we made a quick detour with my husband's Aunt Elizabeth to visit Sausalito. To our delight, we stumbled across an artist we dubbed rock-stacking-man, a fellow who, with Zen-like mastery, stacks rocks on the shore. You must see it to believe it, and my girl and I were mesmerized. (Do you see his masterpieces in the background of this photo she snapped of me?) Four rocks, a little gravity, and a keen sense of balance made his art and his task appear so simple. It was anything but.

It reminded me that one of the best pieces of advice my mother ever gave me was that the key to life, family, work and happiness was one word: simplify. I have to admit: in our culture, we seem to add rather than subtract, to buy more rather than reuse, and to hoard rather than purge. How do you take your four rocks and balance them so precariously in our mad, mad world?

I'm shuffling these ideas as I attempt to craft a perfect query letter this morning. It got me thinking about rock-stacking-man. What are the key themes and plot points that I want a potential agent to know? How do I balance the boulder on top of the pebble; can I keep the stack from collapsing? Was my mother right after all, that when in doubt, simplify?

I think yes. I'm taking my mountain of a manuscript and reducing it down to the four primary rocks that hold it together. I'm stacking them on top of each other in a delicate balance between the earth and the sky, confident that they will not tumble, even with an audience cheering for me, even with my own self-doubt chattering in my head.

Simplify, simplify and get rid of the clutter. Good advice in a home, a stack of rocks, and a query letter. I should introduce my mother to rock-stacking-man. I think they're on to something big.