Calling Me Home: Julie

For more than a year, we've been awaiting a special day: the publication of Julie Kibler’s first novel, Calling Me Home, available now! If you are in DFW, please join us this evening for Julie's book launch and signing at 7:00 p.m. at Barnes & Noble, The Parks Mall, Arlington, Texas. Click here for more information. Other events are scheduled in Austin, Waco, Houston, Denver, Seattle, and Spokane. Find details at Julie's website or Facebook page.

Calling Me Home is our group's first published novel, and it marks a major milestone for both Julie and the blog itself. We started this blog more than four years ago as an outlet for some of our thoughts on writing, but also as a platform to help introduce us to you, our readers, as writers looking forward to publication. That time is beginning. In celebration, each of us is sharing our thoughts on home, how it calls us, and what it means to every "me" in our group. We hope you enjoy these posts, and we hope to see some of you at Julie's launch!

By Julie Kibler

It’s here. Calling Me Home releases today in the United States. I can hardly believe it. Eighteen months ago, you couldn’t have convinced me this time would fly as it has. Eighteen months! Everyone said it would—I didn’t believe them. And now I’m ecstatic to be sharing my novel with readers everywhere.

At What Women Write, we’ve been talking about what calls us home for the last two weeks. I’ve so enjoyed reading each post from my beloved blog partners. We have so much in common, yet we’re all unique.

At the same time, I knew this would be a hard post for me to write.

Home.

It’s a concept I struggle with. I moved so often growing up, I felt “homeless,” even if I was lucky enough to not be sleeping in a car or under a bridge or in a shelter, as those who are truly homeless do many nights.

I thought getting married and having my own home might heal that sense of not having one, but during my young and rocky first marriage, I continued to move every six months to two years. After my divorce, I managed to keep my kids in the same house for six years. Then my second husband and I combined households, and we’ve lived in the same place TEN years. Six years was a record. Ten is a miracle.

And yet, I still long for that thing called Home.

Where is it? What is it?

For some, as Joan and Susan wrote about in their posts, it’s the houses where they lived forever, from birth until their parents pushed them out of the nest.

For some, it’s the small towns or city neighborhoods they settled into, even if they lived at different addresses in those areas.

For some, it’s where Grandma lives—where they went every summer to visit and run and play as kids, or where they take their own kids each Christmas or Thanksgiving to eat turkey and mashed potatoes and pie and play hide and seek with cousins.

For many, home might have been a consistent place, but one that doesn’t necessarily bring joy now. Home is there, but lacks pleasant memories.

For me, home is … nowhere in particular.

I was born in Kentucky and moved back and forth between there and New Mexico, then to Colorado, where we moved from city to city until settling in Denver for my junior high and high school years, though in a few different houses and apartments after my parents divorced in the midst.

When I left for college, my mother soon severed her tenuous ties to Colorado, following me to Texas when I had my first child. She was there to rock my baby boy when I was exhausted, and yet, I longed for “Mom’s house.” In her case, an impersonal one-bedroom apartment down the road wasn’t anywhere I knew intimately or wanted to visit. She trailed us as we moved again and again, and my kids don’t remember her houses or apartments because she mostly came to us until she eventually moved in because it was easier.

One of my parents was an only child; the other had a much older brother. Our extended family wasn’t close enough to visit often.

My dad moved far away not long after my parents divorced, and though we always kept in close touch, it was too expensive to travel. I regret never seeing the house where he, my stepmother, and my two half siblings lived in Alaska. They eventually settled in Washington State and though I’ve had the pleasure of visiting three or four times, their cozy house in Washington is not home.

My family lives in a big, suburban Texas house. We can spread out comfortably in the blistering summers and windy winters. Yet after my last child graduates from high school, my husband and I envision moving to a house with more personality, in an urban, walkable community. We imagine patronizing locally owned cafes and shops—a place we might feel we belong. Whether or not it happens, I suspect it won’t feel exactly as we dream it might.

Over the years, I ‘ve observed others with envy—sometimes, heavy sadness—as I listen to them talk of home, with the accompanying nostalgia or pride or frustration, claiming with confidence roots in one or two locales.

Me? I feel like a bit of a fraud when I claim to be a Kentucky girl. Or a New Mexico girl. Or a Colorado girl. Or even a Texas grownup. When I write stories set in any of these states—which, of course I do—I compulsively run them by folks who can gently yet expertly guide me toward accuracy.

Because I can’t claim complete, native authority on any location.

As a result of this perceived deficiency, I’ve gained proficiencies others may not have. I can fake my way as a local nearly anywhere after a day or so. I can ride subways and trains and city buses like a pro with a map and a pass in hand, or rent a car and drive winding country roads. I can mold my accent to match the people around me so I don’t stick out much. I can scout out places beyond the tourist traps, and I can talk to almost anyone. And … I can claim to be “from” the same place as many people who don’t live near each other.

Yet I still want home. Not so different from Isabelle, in the first chapter of Calling Me Home, when she says, “I want my daughter. I want Dorrie.”

Andy, Brit, Julie, and Tom, December 2006

But these days, I look for home in more than an address or community or culture. I look for home in the people I love.

It’s the thing I can do.

I treasure photographs like this—the only one of me with all three siblings, the one day we were all four in the same place in our whole lives, at my sister’s wedding. So I look a little like a linebacker—these are my brothers and my sister. I love that we have this photo to cherish.

I treasure moments like this—my husband and children, their friends and our pets crammed into one corner of our sectional when we had so much snow, we were practically housebound for a week and snuggled together to stay warm. 

Or even the ones where we might have had a little too much togetherness.

The Blizzard of 2010

Luckenbach, Texas

I treasure the occasion when I returned to Colorado and my small group of friends from my high school years shared a meal.

I also treasure the tug of places, whether I remember them or not, knowing at some point I called them home, or that the family members who came before me did.

 I study my grandmother’s patio in Cincinnati. Those are the glass blocks my grandpa installed, the garden hose holder he hung. I picture myself as a toddler, using that broom to push twigs and leaves, sure I was accomplishing something very important.

This is the limestone retaining wall and garage my dad and grandpa and their handyman built with their own hands below the house where my dad was born.
 

I gravitate toward gravestones. Though these souls are long gone, I sense a connection, feeling almost as though I'm photographing my ancestors when I snap shots of these ancient stones. 

Before my great grandmother’s grave in a lush Kentucky cemetery, my dad brushes away debris and sheds unexpected tears for his grandma, his grandpa, and uncle.

I scan Civil War era portraits of forbears for familiar characteristics. Do I look like them? Do my children? My son does look like his great-great-great-great grandfather, I think.

Most of all, I cling to family histories, asking my parents hungry questions, caching the details that tell me who I am and where I came from, before it’s too late to ask. 

For all these things, these places, these faces—

This shifting conglomeration of time and history and relationships.

This is what I call home.

What about you? What is home? What calls you?

Join me today as I celebrate the release of Calling Me Home as a guest on several blogs:

• Women's Fiction Writers, where my dear friend Amy Nathan is hosting me for an interview and a giveaway of a handmade (by me!) paper bead bracelet like the ones we made at our retreat, constructed from my cover art.
• An in-depth Q&A with Jaime Boler, aka "Book Magnet"
• A fun Q&A at Chick Lit is Not Dead

Calling Me Home: Joan

Click for more details

For more than a year, we have been awaiting a special day that is almost here: the publication of Julie Kibler’s first novel, Calling MeHome, available for pre-order now and in bookstores February 12 (TUESDAY!). If you are in DFW, please join us for Julie's book launch and signing Tuesday, February 12, at 7:00 p.m. at Barnes & Noble, The Parks Mall, Arlington. Click here for more information and to RSVP (which is helpful to Julie and the store in planning for the event, but not required).

Calling Me Home is our group's first published novel, and it marks a major milestone for both Julie and the blog itself. We started this blog more than four years ago as an outlet for some of our thoughts on writing, but also as a platform to help introduce us to you, our readers, as writers looking forward to publication. That time is beginning. In celebration, each of us is sharing our thoughts on home, how it calls us, and what it means to every "me" in our group. We hope you enjoy these posts, and we hope to see some of you February 12!

by Joan

It’s ironic that just when I’m writing this post, I’m a very long, long way from home. I’m in a Beijing hotel, the first of several trips for my new job, and listening to the soundtrack for Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. The Chinese word for luck is fu. How fortunate and how lucky I feel to be here. 

Unfortunately, my first impressions of the city which apparently uses half the world’s coal supply, were colored by a charcoal sky—literally. You might have read about the horrendous air quality but actually being there, wrapped in scarves and a useless mask, it’s really quite frightening. Where are the blossoming bonsais, the silk fans, the lush trees Chow Yun-Fat and Zhang Ziyi scaled so gracefully? As I write, from outside my window a black cat whines from the nearby rooftop. His lungs must be as black as the coal he breathes day after day.

Yes, I am far away. But even when I’m home in Dallas, I’m not truly home. My roots are in Maryland, where I spent 45 years. We didn’t sell the house I was swaddled in until nearly 35 years later when we moved my mother to assisted living, ten years after we buried my father. 

Home is where I sipped cartoned milk and napped in kindergarten. Where I walked and waxed with my poetic friend Chrissie and became enraptured with a cemetery hidden in the green hills. Where I kissed my first crush behind the elementary school brick wall. Where I played canasta and choreographed dances with my Elton-John-loving friend Diane, pom-pommed with my soul-sister Karen, drank beer (shhh, don’t tell my son) with a wild Wheaton crowd. For a few years, home was a dorm I shared with athletes and druggies at University of Maryland. Where I lucked into a CPA firm that launched my rewarding career, workshopped at the Bethesda Writer’s Center, married the jackpot of husbands, birthed the kindest and coolest philosophical son, developed forty-five years of deep, loving friendships.

We left Maryland in 2005, heading the wrong way on a nine-week traverse across Europe, Japan, Alaska and finally making it around the globe to Dallas. Even though I lust to wander, whether it be across the pond or west to visit our son, Maryland does call me home. To my mother and three sisters, my dear friends, the rolling green hills. Where the sky is thankfully clear and fresh.

But for the next while my home is in Dallas, where I lucked into my awesome group of writer friends and await the release of our first success story. 

How to help a soon-to-be published author

By Julie

It's 40 days until Calling Me Home releases, in case you're not counting the weeks, days, and minutes like I am.

It's an exciting time, and a slightly terrifying time, if you want to know the truth. I have a lot to do yet. I need to make detailed plans for my February 12 launch event and party--including deciding what sections/how much of Calling Me Home to read aloud and what to say and who to thank. Not to mention what to wear. Blog posts, essays, and interviews are already starting to stack up on my ongoing task list. I need to finalize travel plans for out-of-town events in February and March. I'm preparing to go off to the Pulpwood Queens Annual Girlfriend Weekend in Jefferson, Texas, again--if I can get my act together in time. (Fortunately, I have a flexible arrangement and can decide last minute, more or less.)

And that's just scratching the surface.

Many friends and family members have asked me this:

What can I do to help?

I often offer a blank stare in response. In spite of all the things I need to do, I'm not versed enough in this job yet to delegate very well.

However, as I think about it, there are some very easy answers to this question. It would take a long time to rattle these off to everyone in person, so I thought I'd made a list to refer to here instead. Some might be slightly tongue-in-cheek. Consider yourself warned. Without further ado ...

Ten ways to help a soon-to-be published debut author, in no particular order of importance, unless otherwise noted, in a somewhat rambling, semi-narrative format:

1. Preorder the book.
Okay, this one is really important. Preorder numbers give a big indication to booksellers and the publisher of how the book is going to do. Preorders can even affect the size of the print run. (Various buy links are here, on my website.)

2. Buy a copy of the book at book signing events you attend, if at all possible.
Most venues will not allow you to bring a previously purchased book in to be signed by the author anyway. They don't make any money if they don't sell any books. I will be completely happy to sign any copies of my book you purchase in almost any location, but will unfailingly honor a bookstore's policy while they are hosting me.

3. If you can afford to, do both.
Both types of purchases are extremely important to the immediate success of a newly released book. Both contribute to the possibilities that a book might end up on various bestseller lists upon debut or at any time during its shelf life.

4. If you need to choose one or the other, use good sense and follow your heart.
I will NEVER JUDGE YOU for prioritizing your expenses the way you need to. I have struggled financially at times in my life. I get it.

5. If you can't afford to do either, check it out at the library. If your library is preordering it, put your name on the hold list.
I will ALWAYS LOVE YOU for checking out the book at a library if you can't afford it. I love libraries. (Did you know I have a master's degree in library science?) Libraries are book buyers, too, and if my book is in demand, they are going to buy it.

6. Forgive me if I get a glazed look in my eyes while we are talking about anything not related to my book for the next couple of months.
Would you believe I even dream about it? Do you have any idea how hard it is to think about or concentrate on anything else right now?

7. Remind me if I have promised to do something for you or with you or as your guest involving the book and I haven't mentioned it lately.
It's highly possible I forgot. But even if I forgot, if I said I wanted to do it when we first talked about it, I really do! Please nag me. That even goes for my husband and kids. I am afraid I will simply drop the ball on some of the things we've talked about, and I would hate that for both of us. Please be my brain for a little while.

8.  If you've received an advance copy, read it, and enjoyed the book, or if you read it upon release, it would help me very much if you would leave a review in any of the places folks go to learn about books.
Goodreads is already open for reviews of Calling Me Home. Please don't feel shy about sharing your honest opinion, even if it's not one hundred percent positive. If you are shy about leaving a review, a simple rating there is helpful, too. As soon as the book is released, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iBookstore, and other online booksellers will be open to the public for reviews. The more reviews there are, the more visible the book becomes to folks browsing for books online, as the sites are programmed to display books more and more to browsing customers as they become more and more popular. A review on your blog, your social networking sites, or any other place is also a huge help.

9. Closely related to that, and this one's a biggie:
Any mention of my book anywhere is the way to spread the word. 
It's said that word-of-mouth, grassroots marketing is the VERY BEST WAY to make a book a hit--if the book is good and appeals to people. Think about it. Why did you read the last book you read? I'm going to guess if you didn't pick it up browsing at a bookstore or library, someone told you about it, or you saw someone reading it and asked about it, or you heard about it in some other way. It didn't just land in your lap, right? Don't keep the books you love a secret. There's plenty of copies to go around. :)

If you liked Calling Me Home, will you please tell people about it?

"But, Julie," you ask, "Where should I talk about it? How?"

I'm so glad you asked.

Do you have a Facebook account? Do you tweet? Are you a member of a book club? Do you get together with other moms for play group? Do you sit on the sidelines with other parents at soccer or basketball games? Do you go out to dinner with friends? Do you have coffee with your coworkers? Do you talk to your librarian when you stop by the counter to pick up holds or check out books? These are just a few of the places where people talk about books and where you might mention reading Calling Me Home. The possibilities are endless.

10. Finally, this one is pretty daring. I dare you to READ IN PUBLIC.
As I mentioned in the last suggestion, many books people read, they read because they saw someone else reading it. On an airplane, in a park, on a coffee break ... anywhere. People start to recognize the colors and design of a cover--especially when they start seeing it everywhere. It becomes an icon for the story, which is why a memorable cover--the RIGHT cover--can be so very important.

Okay. I'm going to round this up to eleven.

11. Photos
Lately, photos have been popping up here and there on my Facebook page, on blogs, etc. The one near the bottom of this post is one of the first I saw. My husband took it. It's me! I kind of look like I'm wearing mom jeans (though I promise I was not and you would know this if you could see all the way down to my ankles and up to my waist). It's kind of fuzzy. It was taken with a cell phone.

But it was one of the most fun and funny and surreal things that has ever happened to me.

Imagine walking into a bookstore with your family, then stopping dead in your tracks to see something like this. First we stopped. Then we giggled. Then, when I was finished passing out, my husband sent me over to the sign for a photo session.

Since then, other folks who live nearby have posted photos on their Facebook walls standing next to the same sign. My daughter's friends have even texted her photos of themselves standing next to it. They are much more adorable than I am.

Not only does this stroke my ego and make me feel rather giddy and get butterflies in my stomach, but friends, I'm here to tell you--PEOPLE LOVE PICTURES. I posted a simple photo of my house lit up for the holidays and covered with rare Texas snow last week, and I got more views and "likes" than any other status I've posted on Facebook except for the photos I posted of my book covers. (See? Photos!)

What I'm saying is this:
Photos draw more attention than just about anything.

Please don't be shy or embarrassed to snap a shot of yourself reading the book or standing next to a sign like this, or when it comes out, a shot of the book in a bookstore or on your nightstand or bookshelf, or a shot of yourself holding up a review or newspaper feature, or really anything related to the book. Then post it on Facebook or Twitter or Tumblr or wherever you post your photos. Tag me if you can. I'll eat it up, I promise. And even better, someone new might learn about the book.

Julie, 12/27/12, standing by the sign at her local Barnes & Noble, seriously about to pass out after nearly running into the thing

That about wraps it up for now. THANK YOU for bearing with me on this list. If you read all the way to the bottom, there is even a reward for you.

If you do, or have already done, ANY of these 11 things that can be done prior to release (order Calling Me Home, say something about it somewhere, post a photo of something related to it, etc.) leave a comment here on the blog telling me what you did, and I'll enter you in a drawing for a $25 gift card or credit at the bookseller of your choice. (For example, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Books-A-Million, iBookstore, or any independent bookstore that offers gift cards or email gift certificates. Final eligibility for this prize and approval of the bookseller is at my discretion. You must be a resident of the United States and able to receive mail or an emailed gift certificate from your preferred store.) Also, for an additional entry, please share this post on Facebook or Twitter or with a friend, and let me know in your comment. 


I'll announce the winner here on January 12, 2013, one month away from the official U.S. release date of Calling Me Home. Thank you so much for taking this journey with me!

UPDATE: It turns out you shouldn't plan to announce something on a Saturday, even if it's a month away from your release day, because I just plain forgot! I apologize for doing this a day late. The winner is Julia Munroe Martin, and I will contact her via email. Congrats, Julia, and thank you SO much to everyone for the responses and for sharing the post! Not a ton of comments, but we had a LOT of hits on the post, and I hope it was helpful to both readers and other authors with upcoming book releases! :)