Author-in-the-trenches

Favorite summer chuckle

2011-08-20T10:42:00.000-07:00

Here's one of my favorite laugh out loud moments from the summer of 2011... As we were leaving a family reunion, I hugged my niece good-bye and wished her good luck with her upcoming MCAT exams. My youngest son, standing behind me, heard this. Hours later, I noticed he was being unusually quiet so I asked what was wrong and he admitted (in a sad voice) that he was disappointed in her. "Mom," he said. "I just don't understand why she wants implants."

Juggling priorities

2011-06-08T09:01:00.000-07:00

Ask any author with a family and I'll bet "huge swaths of uninterrupted writing time" will be at the top of his/her wish list. It's a luxury we dream of the way others dream of shopping until they drop. I know it won't be like this forever, but these days I have more stops and starts than I care to count. Here's a sample of this week's juggling act:

Front door slams and I hear someone howling in the distance. My oldest runs down to my desk, attempting to look casual. "Uh, Mom? How do you know if someone broke their arm or if it's just, like, sprained?"

My youngest phoning from school to say, "I found my field trip form in my locker but it's due today so if you don't come to the school and sign it the teacher says I can't go."

And let's not forget these:

"That wasn't a gunshot, it was Dad, backing over my basketball."
"Mom? Will grape juice leave a permanent stain if it's spilled on a rug?"
"There's a lady at the door who wants money for blind people."
"Can you help me study for my exams?"

Then, late last night when I was working on chapter 16, having success with a dialogue piece I'd previously had trouble with, my youngest came downstairs and curled up in the armchair across from my desk. He was having trouble sleeping, a by-product of Tourette Syndrome. "Mom, have you got a minute?" he asked.

We talked for an hour - about things he's been worried about, about dreams he's never shared with me before - and when he finally went to bed, I turned off my computer and called it a night, thinking, You will never pass this way again. The rest can wait.

Priceless keepsakes

2011-04-08T06:33:00.000-07:00

My youngest, who is now twelve, went through a stage when he was seven or eight where he'd often leave notes on my pillow at night. I would tuck him in for the night and head downstairs to my office to write. Then, hours later when I finally climbed into bed, I'd find one tucked under my pillow, often with a stuffed animal perched on top. Today, they still flatten me.

How to LOVE a good book

2011-02-18T08:48:00.000-08:00

When I read, I'm constantly analyzing and trying to learn from my betters. Armed with a pen, a highlighter and post-it notes, pages are unceremoniously folded and comments are often scribbled in the margins (about the story's arc, the narrative drive, character development). I slap post-it notes on pages I admire, noting a great piece of dialogue, a scene that moved me, a well-crafted subplot, the author's ability to set a certain tone or foreshadow, etc.

When I'm done, the pages are often dirty and the book looks like it's been through a bad storm. Some people would cringe if they saw my collection of books, but to me they looked 'loved to death' which is a compliment to the authors who wrote them, wouldn't you agree?

Break out the Kleenex...

2010-12-08T22:20:00.000-08:00

Have you seen this article and watched this video? Take a few minutes and check it out. You’ll be humbled by what this father/son duo have managed to accomplish with their lives. If there wasn't a book already published about them, I'd be knocking on their door asking for the opportunity to write it.

Truly amazing...and a great way to adjust a person's priorities for the new year ahead.

A writing update for readers

2010-09-13T09:33:00.000-07:00

My apologies for not blogging on a more regular basis. I'm in the midst of manuscript revisions with my current novel, changes and adjustments to make the book stronger -- all of them good, but time consuming when juggling two active kids and my hubby's travel schedule.

It's going to be a busy fall in other ways as well. I'll be speaking at the Waupaca Book Festival in Wisconsin Oct 1 and 2. (If you live in the area, stop by. I'd love to meet you!) Following that, I'll be heading to New York in November to watch my husband run the marathon and meet with my agent. Hopefully between now and the end of the year I'll also manage to throw up a few interesting blog posts -- please check back!

Dinner for four, table for three

2010-08-01T09:51:00.000-07:00

Do your kids take forever to get to the table when dinner's ready? Do you call them 10x before they finally show up? And by the time everyone does arrive (including your hubby, who's probably glued to his Blackberry like mine often is) has your mood taken a nose dive? As a wife/mother/author, I know your pain and I'm happy to offer a solution.

Here's my kitchen table, a little bistro-style that seats three. The dilemna, of course, is that I have a family of four, which means when dinner is announced each night all hell breaks loose.

Since buying this table 3 yrs ago (much to my husband's chagrin) dinner starts immediately after I announce it's ready, because seats are at a premium. If you're the last one to arrive, then you'll be sitting on phone books stacked on the black desk chair hidden away at the back of this picture. And since no one wants the-phone-book-chair my family runs for a spot at the table each night.

It's become a family joke, Mom's crazy table for three, and I have no plans to replace it. I grew up in a big family where dinner was never a quiet affair. There were seven of us and meals were loud, in a good way (voices rose and fell, cancelling each other out, there was lots of laughter and just as much arguing), but we always ate together and I'm determined my family will, too.

P.S. For those who think I'm crazy I do have a dining room with a teak table and seating for eight, which is where we eat when we have guests. I'd be happy to serve our nightly dinner here too, but whenever I suggest it my kids say they'd rather eat at the bistro-table. Go figure, huh?

Writing, fishing and the joy of anticipation

2010-06-24T09:49:00.000-07:00

This isn't me, but see how she's sitting, balanced on the front of that boat? That's how I love to fish - relaxed, focused and close enough to the water to watch the action when a fish goes after my hook.

I love fishing. Trolling for perch, casting for northern pike, ice fishing in the winter. Growing up, I'd beg my dad to take me with him, and then he and his friends would draw straws because nobody wanted me in their boat.

I didn't have an expensive rod (mine had duct tape on it), my reel squeaked, and my fishhooks were speckled with rust, but it wasn't my gear that was the problem -- it was me. I'd get a bite, my heart would slam around my ribs, and I'd start to hyperventilate. I'd stand up, then sit down, then abruptly stand up again, making the boat wobble all over until whoever I was with yelled at me. (Even the most patient person would). Aside from the hyperventilating, I had no finesse (imagine a fish whipping through the air as I yanked it from the water, equally horrified to be smacking someone across the face as the person getting smacked).

Still, I took it as a compliment when my dad's friends said having me with them was an 'event' and nothing ever diminished the joy I got from the experience itself. I was tenacious and determined and unable to turn away from the 'who-knows-what-might-happen' feeling that came over me each time I climbed into a boat.

I get the same feeling each time I sit down to write a novel. I love letting a story that's been percolating for years come alive and spread itself out across the page. Then comes the fine-tuning which brings everything in line and makes it less a 'diamond in the rough' and more 'the novel that was meant to be.' It's not easy, but I have the best job in the world.

From upstanding citizen to delinquent parent

2010-02-02T22:27:00.000-08:00

I might not be the best mother on earth (that I don't bake instantly comes to mind, as does my refusal to iron or sew) but I'm also certainly not the worst.

No matter how late it is, when my boys come home from school dances they kick their dad out of the room and take turns giving me whispered rundowns about their night, whether I want to hear it or not. If there's a problem or a secret, I usually know about it long before my husband does, and if one of them is sick I'm the parent they call. I don't mean to disparage my husband here. It's just that he's known as the 'fun guy' who takes them skating and swimming and snowboarding, whereas I'm more the 'workhorse parent' who gets the leftovers.

All that said, last Friday was not a stellar day for me.

My son, who's twelve, was sick with a cold/flu. It was Friday and we needed groceries but he didn't want to go with me only to get dragged from store to store because I won't leave him in a vehicle alone. So a compromise was reached. I would give him some Nyquil and he'd stay home in bed and watch TV. I'd have my cell phone on and he'd call if there was any kind of problem/emergency. I also alerted my neighbor, who lives 30 feet away and was at home, sick with her own kids.

Fast forward 30 minutes.

I'm in the dairy aisle when my cell phone rings, and when I answer my youngest is overly cheery in that way kids get when something has gone very very wrong. It doesn't last, though, because as soon as I say, "What happened?" he spews out the truth, and the false cheer and bravado disappear.

He fell asleep and when he woke up (slightly groggy) he tried to phone my cell, but instead of dialing 8+1+ the remaining numbers he dialed 9+1 and then hung up.

*Insert fun fact here* Did you know if you dial 9+1 and then hang up the aborted call is immediately routed to 911?

Back to my story... After hanging up, a 911 operator phones my child back and asks him a series of questions, including his name, age and where his mother is? While she does this my child is sniffling and coughing (from his cold) so the girl puts her supervisor on the phone who asks my son if he's being held against his will. (Which, by the way, I think is wonderful because that's exactly how these kind of calls need to be handled). My son assures the man that he's fine, hangs up, and then phones me.

Fast forward 20 minutes.

I park in the driveway and go inside to check on my son, who is hunkered down in bed with a snack and our 180 lb Newfoundland dog. As we're talking, the doorbell rings and (yes, you guessed it) the police have now arrived. Our dog gets to the door before I do and the officer is visibly taken aback by his size. He asks a few questions (keeping his eye on the dog, who is now circling him with an Eeyore doll in his mouth) then asks to speak to my son.

I call my son downstairs and when he finally arrives (taking his sweet time because he's somewhat overwhelmed/intimidated by the whole there's-a-police-officer-in-our-house concept) the officer asks him what happened earlier.

My son explains, then apologizes and says, "I think I probably got confused because I've been drinking too much Nyquil."

"You've been drinking Nyquil?" the officer says.

"No, he hasn't!" I say, and the officer tells me he'd like to talk directly to my son, not me.

Once the Nyquil problem is cleared up (my son confirms it was me who gave him the Nyquil and that it was the correct dose) the officer asks my son if he lives here alone with me.

My son coughs and says, "No, my brother live with us too. Oh, and my dad (insert sniffle here) but he's never here."

"That's not true," I say, embarassed. "It's just that he travels a lot!"

Once again, the officer politely reminds me that he wants to speak to my son, not me, and by then I'm ready to chug a little Nyquil myself.

Minutes later, after he runs out of questions, the officer finally leaves. I shut the door behind him and the phone rings. It's my husband, calling from some airport where he's had an hour-long wait at security, and he says, "You are not going to believe my day."

And I'm thinking...Try me.

The tug of a perfect love affair

2009-12-29T11:19:00.001-08:00

Like many of you, we've had company over the last week. Lots of food and conversation, stories and catching up. Christmas morning, I felt a pinch inside watching my boys unwrap gifts that reflect how much they've grown, how fast they've gone from believing in Santa and unwrapping Batman action figures to getting a weight bench or a laptop as their one big gift. It's been great, yet through all of the noise and activity (skating, walks to the river, some of them running 7 km into town and the rest of us meeting them at a coffee shop) a restlessness began to take hold. My mind started to wander and I'd catch myself drifting away from what everyone else was saying.

Yesterday, my husband whispered, "You want to go work on your book, don't you?"

"Is it that obvious?" I asked, and he smiled and said, "To me it is."

Today, a group went snowboarding and won't be home until tomorrow. The rest left to visit relatives and won't return until Thursday. Which leaves me alone, at my desk, writing. And as I do, I realize now more than ever that I am exactly where I'm supposed to be, doing exactly what I was meant to do -- which is what I wish for each of you in the year ahead, the perfect love affair between what you most desire and what you were meant to do.

Happy New Year readers, writers and bloggers!

The toughest thing I've done this year? Learning to trust my instincts

2009-12-09T16:17:00.001-08:00

Which is great in theory, but difficult in practice.

Once you're published there's lots of white noise going on in the background that's almost impossible to ignore. Everyone has an opinion and you feel pressure (right or wrong) from all angles -- readers, your agent, your publisher, bloggers, fellow authors, book reviewers. Do their opinions matter? Of course. But at some point you realize you can't allow them to hijack your writing either, because then you risk killing your inner voice which could lead to pumping out one vanilla-like novel after another, and who wants that?

I like the 'Go Big or Go Home' mantra, and as I write these days that's what's been going through my mind. Right or not, I've been trusting my instincts more with this novel than I did with the other three. Will doing so make it a stronger book? Only time will tell, but I can tell you that the journey has been far more enjoyable and empowering, so it's all good.

Other tidbits of interest:

Two weeks ago, my thirteen-year-old asked if he could read my novel, The Tin Box. (He's become a reading machine and had temporarily run out of books). Right now, he's halfway done and yesterday he searched me out to tell me he cannot believe I wrote it, one of the most backwards compliments a mom can get. I think.

My eleven-year-old is going to be a pen pal to a girl in Britain. He brought home a permission form and explained that all of the girls in his class had signed up to be her pen pal but no boys, which he thought was sexist, so he decided to write her so she doesn't think Canadian boys are jerks.

Construction work on my street has screeched to a halt for winter (insert heavenward high-five) which means I no longer have a porta-potty in my yard, the phone/internet line won't keep getting cut off for days at a time and we won't get evacuated like we did last month because they've hit another gas line (who hires these people?!)

Last of all, happy holiday season everyone, and thanks for all your kind emails in 2009, readers! Your comments and encouragement mean more to me than you can imagine.

Getting quiet with yourself & other pursuits

2009-09-21T11:30:00.000-07:00

"To do anything, the first requirement is that we become quiet. It is in this place of stillness that truth surfaces, understandings expand and creativity blossoms."

I love this quote, so much so that I told author Anne LeClaire I planned to copy it from her website and share it with you. I'm also adopting it as my mantra this fall. ie., Right now, I'm working through a list of commitments I made so I can get to my own quiet place. I have two manuscripts left to read for fellow writers, one book club commitment, and one ARC to read and blurb, then I'm done. After that, I won't be available for anything until after I've shipped the novel I'm working on to my agent.

In keeping with that commitment, here are the answers to a few questions posed to me via email yesterday from the Ladies of the Night Book Club in Idaho Falls:

Do you find it hard to relate to the main characters in your novels?

Not really, because on some level, and for some strange reason, the main character in each novel I've written has been bouncing around my head for years, so by the time I write their story I know them well. ie., the main character of the novel I'm writing now is an 85 year old man and the story is told from his point of view. I first thought of him six years ago when I was in Boston. Since then I've spent lots of time with him and in turn he's evolved into a full fledged character (warts and all) with a full fledged story to tell.

What was the last book you read?
The Flying Troutman’s by Miriam Toews.

What book are you currently reading?
Gargoyle by Andrew Davidson

What are the next four books you plan to read?
The Help by Kathryn Stockett
Let the Great World Spin by Colum McCann
Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley
The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery

Best date I've had in years

2009-07-15T20:35:00.000-07:00

My youngest is an avid reader, but my oldest has never shown an interest, which (as you might imagine) bothers me to no end. Over the years, I've tried everything. I've read to him, read with him, coaxed, cajoled and bought every kind of book you can imagine to lure him the wonders of a good story... but never with any luck.

At least, not until a week ago when a friend gave him a book he just couldn't put down. He finished it in three days and would not stop talking about it. Without prompting, he recounted the plot from start to finish (in mind-numbing detail) then told me all about the protagonist, the secondary characters and even a few of the walk-ons. He was brimming with enthusiasm, so much so that when I realized he'd been reading Book One of a nine book series, I drove into the city and bought him the next four!

Fast forward to today: My youngest is in a basketball camp this week with a buddy, so I decided to surprise my twelve-year-old and take him on a "date" to see the new Harry Potter movie, just the two of us. I told him last night and he was thrilled. Said he couldn't wait.

He was still in bed when I got up this morning (rare for him) and when I stuck my head in his room I found him reading Book Two ("I'm almost done," he said.) I made breakfast and while he ate, he read. On the 20 min drive into the city, he sat next to me in the passenger seat... reading. Then, for 30 mins while we waited for the film to begin in a semi-dark theatre, he used his iPod as a flashlight and continued to read.

He watched the movie, but as soon as we left the theatre and began driving home... out came the book again! He was still reading when his brother walked through the door after camp, and when his dad got home from work he only had 5 pages left. On his way to bed tonight he set Book Three on his nightstand for the morning. Then he gave me a hug, grinned and said, "Thanks for the movie, Mom. Best date I've had in years!"

What he said.

Hawaii bound for writing inspiration

2009-07-08T12:44:00.000-07:00

It's impossible not be inspired when attending the Hawaii Writers Retreat & Conference. Not only are you in Hawaii, which screams relaxation, you're also surrounded by like-minded writers.

This year, I'll be spending time with good friend and fellow author, Jacquelyn Mitchard, whose sequel to the #1 New York Times bestseller The Deep End of the Ocean comes out Sept 15th. (The Deep End of the Ocean was the novel Oprah chose to launch her book club years ago, remember?) Jackie's sequel is titled No Time to Wave Goodbye. If you haven't pre-ordered a copy, do so now.

I'll also be presenting at the conference with fellow author Patricia Wood, whose debut novel Lottery was short-listed for the Orange Prize and has been sold in so many countries I've lost count.

Oh, and of course I'll be writing, putting the finishing touches on my 4th novel so I can hand it over to my agent and have her sell it sometime this fall. So... if you're a writer, what are you waiting for? Flights are cheap right now. Sign up and come join us in Hawaii. You won't regret it!

Time and the pressure of growing up

2009-06-18T10:18:00.001-07:00

I gave my ten-year-old a digital alarm clock for his birthday last fall (along with a handful of other, more exciting gifts) and when he opened the clock, he went unusually quiet. I said if he didn't like it maybe we could get him a talking clock instead (no response) or one with a helicopter that lifts off and flies around the room and beeps when the alarm goes off? (No reaction to this, either).

We had company and he quietly asked if he could speak to me in dining room (a sure sign we were about to discuss something private). "What's wrong?" I asked. "You don't like the clock?"

"It's not that, Mom," he replied. "I'm just not ready!"

"Ready for what?"

"For the responsibility," he said. "First I have to set it and then if the power goes out I have to re-set it, and when the alarm goes off I need to get up right away and get dressed so I don't miss the bus. I like how it is now, how you wake me up and how you take care of all those things."

"Fair enough," I said. "But at some point you have to grow up and be more responsible. I just thought an alarm clock might be a good way to start."

"It's not," he said. "I don't need the extra pressure right now, okay? I'm not saying you're old, Mom, but you don't know how hard it is being a kid today. Clocks are not our friends!"

P.S. I'm posting this now because last night he took it out, plugged it in, and set it for the first time. "Think you're ready?" I asked, to which he replied (after a dramatic sigh), "Mom, you've really gotta stop babying me. I'm gonna be eleven soon!"

The task of compartmentalizing

2009-04-18T08:44:00.000-07:00

You know those slippery mercury balls inside old-style thermometers? How impossible they are to catch and hold onto? That's how hard I find it to compartmentalize. I'm a good multi-tasker and I'm organized, but for the most part everything else in my life bleeds together, which can be exhausting.

Is it a male thing? (every guy I know seems to be good at it) Or is it personality driven? Either way, I'm bad at it. Example: I hate watching the news, because if there's been a catastrophe somewhere (a shooting, a kidnapped child, a fire) it'll stay in the periphery of my thoughts for days afterward, upsetting me.

I like this explanation: a fellow author (who's published a dozen novels, half of them NYT bestsellers) told me she believes most writers feel things at a different level, that we have the ability to examine all the events around us in a camera-like fashion, record them in our subconscious with startling detail, and can then effectively draw them out (along with the emotions associated with each event) when we're writing.

Sounds plausible, but I think it's also a personality driven trait.
What about you?

Writing can feel like this (parenting, too)

2009-04-09T09:08:00.001-07:00

Metaphorically, I've been busy attempting to thread needles, both with my writing and parenting -- neither an easy task.

Often, I'll spend hours working on a scene and no matter what I put on the page I'm not happy with it. When this happens, I'll put it away and move on to a different scene (time and distance can be remarkable tools). However, there are also times when I'll push back my chair and simply ... stop, knowing that I've accomplished what I'd hoped to and that tinkering with it won't make it any better. And of course it's these moments that make all the long hours worthwhile, moments akin to successfully threading a needle. In the dark. With your hands shaking from lack of sleep.

Dramatic metaphor aside (because writing is hard and I feel it's only fair to represent it that way) I did manage to write two needle-and-thread scenes this week that saved me from deleting four others that have been frustrating me.

Similarly, the ups and downs continue on the parenting front... Like my youngest, who volunteered me for a field trip without my knowledge, tracing my signature off a writing contract (a shout-out for attention, don't you think?).

And then there's my 12 yr old who, for the first time (and I'm sure it won't be the last) yelled, "You don't understand me!" signalling the arrival of that slippery slide into a world filled with teen angst and miscommunication. The same kid who hugged me hours later and whispered, "You and me? Buddies for life," the way he used to when he was five and our days were often peppered with needle and thread moments.

Something about a boy

2009-03-29T15:53:00.000-07:00

I used to think if I ever had kids I'd have one, a blond-haired, blue-eyed girl. So sure was I of this that when my oldest was born and they handed him to me, my hands started to shake. What was I supposed to do with a boy? We had nothing in common! How would we ever connect?!

Fast forward 12 years: I now have two boys and every day is an adventure, from what they say (Mom, why do girls get mad when I ask how much they weigh?) to what they do (see video).

Gone are their toddler pot-bellies, the silky super-hero capes they used to wear 24/7, the Batman masks I duct-taped to their faces because they kept falling off. Gone, too, are the glow-in-the-dark sunglasses my oldest insisted on wearing to bed for six months, my youngest's inexplicable fear of balloons, not to mention his much-appreciated though short-lived fascination with vacuuming.

Today, they're only angelic when they're asleep, though they won't actually go to sleep until I kiss them good-night.

When they're awake they equally frustrate and test me, arguing with each other and pushing the envelope, not an ounce of angelic in sight. Even so, the older they get the more often I sneak into their rooms late at night to stare at their pinked up cheeks, wondering what else life has in store for them, if they'll be happy, and if they'll ever meet someone who loves them even half as much as I do.

Frame of mind is everything...

2009-03-10T12:09:00.001-07:00

I love this print. Matter of fact, I wish I had a copy hanging in my office, that's how much it speaks to me.

From my standpoint, it looks like this guy's walking into a dense fog. That he can't see what's ahead, but he's moving forward anyhow. Of course, it also looks like he may have popped back some whiskey first, but I still admire him. Probably because, at this moment, it seems he's set his mind to a task and will not be swayed from it. I get the sense he'll be okay even if he falls, don't you? That if he does, he'll find the strength to heave himself back up on that wall and keep going.

I admire his frame of mind. Matter of fact, I've decided to adopt it myself. You see, for more than a month now my husband has been ill and we haven't been able to pin down why. I feel as though I've been going through each day like this guy in the print -- teetering to the left and then swaying to the right before struggling to find some kind of balance for my family. Today, though, I've decided I've had enough with all the doom and gloom. As my husband keeps telling me, I need to change my frame of mind and look at things differently.

By the way, when I asked what he saw when he looked at this print, he said: "Looks like a guy who got pulled over for drinking and now he's walking a sobriety test line, why?"

Not hard to tell who writes fiction in our family, huh?

Sifting through to find those gold nuggets

2009-02-24T13:12:00.000-08:00

Imagine that these hands belong to an editor and each grain of sand represents a manuscript. If so, then this editor has a ton of manuscripts to choose from (which they all do, by the way, more so in today's market than ever). However, this editor (like all editors) doesn't want to buy just any manuscript. He/she is looking for a gold nugget... a book that rises above the rest and shines; a unique story, written well.

I'm posting this because a writer friend emailed today, disillusioned because the novel her agent recently took to market has been rejected over and over. (I won't say how many times or by how many houses, just that it's a painful and humbling process).

That said, my friend has written 5 novels and still isn't published (a common problem, I'm afraid). Frustrated, she's decided to put this one aside (as she has with the others) and has started writing another. I'd like to have it finished by June so my agent can hopefully sell before summer. What do you think?

I told her what her agent probably told her -- that every editor/publisher is looking for the same thing: a big story. That story is more important than anything. I told her IMHO she should focus on quality, not quantity. That she needs to slow down and spend 90 days brainstorming a unique story instead of 90 days trying to write another cookie-cutter chic-lit novel that doesn't stand out from the masses. That once she's got that slam-dunk great story, she should then take at least 6 months to a year and write it.... taking... her... time. I'm not sure I got through to her, but she reads my blog so hopefully this will :)

Contrary to what you might think...

2009-02-18T11:44:00.001-08:00

it doesn't get any easier. Of course, logic says it should, and because of this you remain optimistic that writing the next book will be a cake walk, that your ideas will flow through your fingers onto the page with such ease and clarity you'll soon be spinning out 2-3 novels per year!

Well, I'm currently writing my fourth novel and this magical shift still hasn't happened. However, I'm happy to report that other authors I know (some who've published ten or more novels) agree with me on this point: the process itself doesn't get any easier, though with each finished novel an author's growth inevitably shines through -- improvement in the writing, confidence on the page, style, structure, tone, etc.

So for those teenagers writing short stories for the competition I sponsored this spring... don't give up, and remember, the best writing is always done in the rewriting.

Learning to celebrate all that I am versus all that I'm not

2009-02-11T00:02:00.001-08:00

I finished high school when I was seventeen and although the local phone company was hiring a ton of administrators at the time (you had to type 50 wpm and I could type 60 easy) they hired me as... a long distance operator.

I know! I was as stunned as you are, though later I realized I got the job because 1) no one actually ever applied for it so they were always short staffed, and 2) I mentioned on my resume that I had experience operating a hotel switchboard from a part-time job I'd had in high school.

I learned a ton about myself in that job though (how I hate shift work, that I love listening in on other people's conversations, that I like working in my pajamas.) Don't misunderstand, I really hated the job, I'm just saying it wasn't a total waste, that's all.

Life progressed from there... I said I'd never get married, and then I did. I swore up and down I'd never have kids, but if I were stupid enough to change my mind, I'd have one, a little girl I'd name Sawyer, and I still wouldn't get married.

Today, I'm a perfectionist, my own worst critic, and I often get down on myself about all that I'm not and everything I haven't achieved with my life. Pointless, isn't it? I mean, a bus could flatten me tomorrow and then what would any of it matter? So... I've decided 2009 is going to be the year where I celebrate all that I am vs. all that I'm not (yes, I know it's a little late to be talking new year's resolutions, but humor me -- these days it seems I'm late with everything.)

Okay... I'll never be a size two, nor will I ever have long, flowing auburn hair, and I couldn't sing if my life depended on it. However, I'm a giving person and a loyal friend. I love my kids (two boys I said I'd never have) and my husband (who I've been with for 20 years) and I like to think that long distance operator gig had something to do with me becoming an author, because I did manage to find a job where I can work in my pajamas!

For the good of all mankind (not to mention my children) I really need some sleep!

2009-02-04T08:11:00.001-08:00

I'm deep into 3rd draft revisions of this manuscript (my favorite part, cause this is when the book takes on the shape I originally envisioned.) Creatively, good stuff happens at this stage. I'd liken it to catching one perfect wave after another when you're surfing, though I don't surf. You find your groove and you don't want to stop writing for anything.

The periphery areas of my life aren't cooperating with my surf-board analogy, though (why start now, right?) You see, I'm dog-sitting this week, which means I have 3 hairy beasts tearing around the house, weighing a sum total of 400 lbs. (I'm doing my brother a favor so he can take his wife to Vegas for a few days, which is only fair since he repaired my basement-wall-from-hell last month, saving me a whack of money.)

Of course, my husband's away on business on the very days we agreed to dog-sit (does this surprise anyone?) He conveniently left an hour before the dogs arrived and he gets home an hour after they leave. And really? I'm okay with that. I truly am. Here, though, is where it all goes south...

I've also had to juggle basketball practice, picture day, feeding and walking these 3 beasts (my kids can't handle them) plus the usual nightly homework load that requires parental assistance -- self-portrait of a ten-year-old who can't draw worth stink; memorization of the parts of an eyeball; preparatory blueprints on how to effectively launch an elasticized rocket (!!!)

Adding to this, our dog, Sully, won't allow the other two in my bedroom, and the other two bark when left alone, so I've been sleeping downstairs with them, locked away behind a closed bedroom door so they don't kill my cats.

Did I mention they're cat killers?!

Yup. Sweet as they are, one of them nuked my dad's cat with one sharp "let's play" shake of his head. Which means I've also had to keep my cats sequestered from said beasts 24/7 so they make it through the week alive -- not an easy task all by itself.

And so it is that in that wondrous window of time when kids, dogs, and cats are all blessedly silent (usually between 9:00 pm and 1:30 a.m) I've been writing. Last night, it went so well that I didn't go to bed until 2:00 a.m. I was, however, up again at 3:00 to put a dog out (bowel issues) and then again at 5:15. And, of course, both times, before putting said dog out, I spent 2-3 minutes stomping around outside in my pajamas, scaring away the skunk who seems to think my backyard is his.

*sigh* Then this morning, when I delivered toast to my oldest (just the way he likes it) he gave me a long, searching look and said, as if it were the coolest revelation, "Mom, you look older today than you did yesterday!"

A textbook example of why, in the wild, mothers sometimes eat their young, don't you think?

Wish I were in Denmark right now

2009-01-29T18:16:00.000-08:00

Here's the Danish cover for The Penny Tree, which came out Jan 9/09. I love the cover art, though I've no idea what salgsomslag means! I tried to translate it online but got nowhere. Maybe it was intended it to be a subliminal marketing message that didn't come out right in the print process. You know the kind, right? Like how movie theatres were once accused of flashing buy popcorn / buy popcorn / buy popcorn at lightning speed across the screen during previews, only this was supposed to say buy this book / buy this book! *LOL*

On a final note, I just finished reading two novels I've been meaning to read for years. The first was The Dogs of Babel and the second The Bell Jar, an iconic novel that tackles the serious issue of depression and mental health. Both were beautifully written. Have a great weekend everyone :)

Calling in sick to play frisbee golf? Really?!

2009-01-27T09:56:00.001-08:00

Until I get my current manuscript signed off, I'll only be posting here once a week. I just have way too much on my plate right now. I've been teaching, helping a handful of other writers with their novels (while neglecting my own) my husband's traveling again and I'm playing the role of a single parent.

That said, yesterday afternoon I took the beast (aka Sully) for a long walk. I needed a break and he'd sure earned one, watching me write all morning. I followed a path down to the river and like most days lately, it was gorgeous (not a cloud in the sky) other than the minus 18 degree weather!

Seconds after taking this snapshot for my stepdaughter (who hasn't seen Sully for a while and misses him) he suddenly lept through the air and flattened me on the snow-packed ground, thinking I was playing some kind of game. (Ever been flattened by a 165 lb dog? Trust me, you feel like you've been hit by a linebacker.)

Winded, I stayed where I was, trying to catch my breath. Then I heard a faint whi-z-z-z-ing sound and an orange frisbee sailed through the air above me in a perfect arc, only to disappear somewhere off to my left.

Of course, like a beacon he couldn't NOT respond to, Sully took off after the frisbee just as a group of people (laughing like crazy) came thrashing through the bush next to me, equipped with the requisite snow pants, hats, gloves and boots.

Here's the interesting part... All through the bush behind where I live are metal chain-like contraptions like this one (some are on the edge of trails, others stuck back in the bush where you can barely see them.) I'd heard they were used for a sport called frisbee golf, though I'd never actually seen anyone use them. And yet here was a group in their thirties, deep into a competitive game... in the middle of winter! And no, they weren't drinking.

After we managed to wrestle their now almost unrecognizable frisbee back from the beast (which took the better part of five minutes because Sully thought we were playing some kind of game) they sheepishly admitted they'd called in sick that morning to play, something they did once a month, no matter what the weather was like.

At first, I thought they were nuts. Frisbee golf? In the middle of winter?! And yet as I watched them tear off after that now-horribly-chewed frisbee, you could tell they had a passion for it, so who am I to judge? Maybe this once-monthly-game helps get them through the winter without popping pills for depression. Maybe their jobs are boring as all get out. In some ways, I guess I can relate. Try taking away my writing -- the one passion that gives me more fulfillment than I can put into words -- and I'd be calling in sick, too.

Book talk, Camel Rides and IQ Tests

2009-01-22T20:29:00.001-08:00

I spoke with a book club from Tampa tonight who went for drinks before we connected (who doesn't love celebratory readers, hmmm?) and after questions about The Penny Tree dried up here's what they asked:

Q: There's nothing more appealing than...?
A: A gentleman. I can't stand men with bad manners.

Q: Something you've always wanted to do but haven't is...
A: Ride a camel. No idea why, but I've spent years wanting to.

Q: Something my husband doesn't know about me is...
A: ...that for three years I've put the same IQ TEST IN A BOX in his stocking at Christmas and each year he says, "This is great!" then puts it aside and forgets I gave it to him. I'll keep re-gifting it until he says something. I'm aiming for five years straight.

Q: Books you've read recently that you enjoyed/admired...
A: The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society
(a NYT bestseller, represented by my agent Liza Dawson)
The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga (Winner of the Man Booker)
Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson (A true story)
Mr. Pip by Lloyd Jones (Finalist for the Man Booker Prize)

Wouldn't it be nice?

2009-01-16T07:50:00.000-08:00

I've been busy fulfilling a commitment I made to sponsor a writing competition, including teaching creative writing to a group of teenagers. After yesterday, the teaching part of that commitment is now done. Whew! I also finally activated my dormant facebook page after letting it sit for a year with nothing on it and now plan to stay active here and there as well (gulp) so stop by if you're on facebook -- I'd love to see you!

Back to today's post... I'd like your opinion. Don't you think it'd be nice if someone were to charter a bus for a group of authors to tour together for 2-3 weeks one summer? I think readers would be more apt to show up at an event where (for example) six authors arrived together to talk about their novels instead of one, don't you? I also think it'd be easier to get media exposure. All we have to do is round up six authors who could get along for 2-3 weeks. Hmmm... sounds like it also might make a good reality show, don't you think?

The little darlings that drive a story forward...

2009-01-09T12:38:00.001-08:00

Here's a topic that was a reader favorite during my book club chats in 2008 -- character creation. Do you find it hard to think up characters for your stories? Are they based on people you know? Do you have favorites?

Each character I've created to date (protagonists, secondary characters, even walk-ons) has, for the most part, arrived fully formed. Of course, before they showed up in my creative process I'd spent months (or in the case of the novel I'm writing now, years) thinking about the story before I began writing it, including the kind of characters I felt would best drive the story forward.

Once I know who the characters are and what role they'll each play, I think the best way to describe them is how they behave. I really don't like to go overboard with physical description. I prefer to give them beliefs or behaviors or characteristics that set them apart instead.

Yes, there have been a few rare cases where I've "fashioned" a character after someone I know (ie., Tommy in The Tin Box) but I don't typically do that. As for favorites, I have soft spots for Tommy and Lexie in The Tin Box, Erna in The Penny Tree, Louie in The Silver Compass, and a man named Jack in the novel I'm working on now.

Moments for the archives

2009-01-05T10:28:00.000-08:00

I'll do a writing related post later this week, but for now humor me while I get back into a work groove...

In an email to my sister last week (she forwarded it to me) my oldest son had this to say: "BTW I know Santa actually doesn't exist. I figured it out on my own and then clarafide it with Mom that its just my parents. Don't tell my brother though. I think the truth would kill him."

Last night, when I told my youngest it was back to school this morning, this is what he said: "Are you kidding!? Learn, learn, learn! Why can't we just stay home for three months straight with our parents? Maybe so many of em wouldn't dee-vorce then cuz they'd have stronger families."

After taking our kids to see Marley and Me, our youngest said this while sniffing and wiping his eyes: "I don't understand why you and Dad put me through stuff like this."

Whoop! 2009 is finally here

2009-01-01T10:55:00.001-08:00

A fresh start. Time to kick away the stool and take some risks. Time to focus on what's ahead vs. the puddles we may have had to jump in 2008. If you're a reader, I hope you're in the middle of a gem of a book you didn't see coming. If you're a writer, I hope the characters you dream up this year make your WIP stand out from the masses. And for everyone else, I hope 2009 is a year you'll never forget, in the best possible way.

Time to embrace a keyboard

2008-12-27T12:26:00.000-08:00

Okay, I'm officially tired of shopping, cooking, wrapping gifts, and playing host. Good-bye to the tree, the decorations, and all that calorie-rich food. A good 10 or 12 hour hit on a keyboard is what I need right now. When do you take your tree down? Mine's outside on Boxing Day. My husband says I'm brutal, that I should leave it up until New Year's eve, but I'm all about pre-Christmas festivities. After the big day comes and goes, I'm done.

A new year looms and that means it's time for a new look on my website (check) and a new routine where writing comes first, and everything else follows. Each year, snow and cold weather aside, it's this shift alone that makes me love January!

Another year gone...

2008-12-18T09:44:00.000-08:00

Make a Smilebox slideshow

Happy Holidays everyone

2008-12-12T07:53:00.001-08:00

Merry Christmas - For more funny videos, click here

Getting physical (in a good way)

2008-12-07T19:55:00.000-08:00

My husband began running in 2006. Since then he's completed three marathons and six half-marathons. I think it's great, even more so because my oldest, now twelve, began following his lead last year, running 3 km, 5 km, and recently a 10 km run.

This past Saturday, my youngest, now ten and recently diagnosed with Tourette's Syndrome, ran his first 5 km run, the Santa Shuffle, which raises money for the Salvation Army. I watched with my sister, who was visiting, and our dog Sully. (No, I don't run. At least not yet, though I've been spending time on my treadmill and elliptical machines 5 days/week for the last ten months).

Anyhow... my oldest finished Saturday's 5 km run in 28 mins, running across the finish like a deer, barely breaking a sweat. My youngest (paced by his dad) finished in 41 minutes, blinking and twitching so badly as he crossed the finish line I almost cried. (His Tourette's, which often occurs in bouts where he'll twitch/blink involuntarily, is worse when he's stressed). He was worried he wouldn't be able to do it, so worried he'd had trouble sleeping the night before, and yet when he ran up to me at the end, winded and red-faced, he was clearly riding a euphoric high. You could see it in his eyes.

Later, I watched all kinds of people struggling across that same finish line, some taking 60 mins, others 65 or even more. There were parents pushing kids in strollers, couples running with their dogs, groups of elderly who'd walked. Some were robust and healthy, others overweight and out of shape, but they all finished and for that they deserve a high-five.

Running has exploded over the last decade. I think it's great because you don't need talent to do it, you can run as a family, you compete against yourself, and anyone can do it. Anyone.

Wonton soup & the measure of a man

2008-12-01T09:15:00.001-08:00

I know a restaurant that sells amazing Wonton soup and each time I go there I'm reminded of the Seinfeld episode where Jerry, George, Elaine and Kramer patiently wait in a long line-up to buy a bowl of soup from the infamous "soup guy" at this hole-in-the-wall restaurant in New York that draws crowds of people from all walks of life.

Same thing at this restaurant. There's always a line-up, never enough tables, and the same broad mix of customers. I love going there, because its not pretentious and it speaks to the soup's ability to cut through the invisible social barriers that so often divide us (like how much we make for a living, or the kind of car we drive, or how big our house is).

That said, last Friday I made an impromptu trek into the city to buy take-out soup, a reward for completing a chapter I'd been working on and (more importantly) finishing the last coat of paint on my basement-wall-from-hell which had been ripped apart ten days earlier to accomodate a plumbing repair.

When I arrived, there was the usual line-up. I took note of three businessmen obsessively checking their blackberries, a teenage girl texting, two construction workers and a man who looked like he was homeless given the Safeway cart he'd just parked outside with all manner of bags tied to it.

One of the blackberry-obsessed businessmen stood out more than the others. His suit screamed money and he kept talking on his phone in a too-loud voice. He also wore a fistful of garrish rings that he kept playing with as he tapped one foot impatiently, and a Rolex watch that clearly wasn't made on a production line focused on less-is-more. But what I noticed most was how often he glanced back at the homeless guy behind him, a look of disgust on his face.

When the businessman finally made it to the front of the line, he placed both hands on the counter and ordered his soup (loudly) then flushed red when he realized he didn't have his wallet with him. (Insert an awkward pause here while he pocket slapped for his missing wallet).

And then the most wonderful thing happened.

The homeless man stepped around him, walked up to the till, and withdrew a handful of small bills. With more class than the businessman would ever have, he then spoke to the teller in a polite, hushed tone, and paid for the man's soup. "Oh, no!" the businessman said, mortified. "You don't have to do that."

"I know," the homeless man replied. "But I want to."

The businessman thanked him and left with his head down, jumping into a Lexus and tearing off like his tires were on fire. Not long after that, it was my turn to order. I was distracted, smiling to myself as I watched the homeless man steer his Safeway cart across the icy parking lot outside, cradling his soup. I handed the teller my money, but she waved it away and nodded at him through the window. "He paid for yours, too."

"Mine?!" I said. "Why?"

The woman shrugged. "He said he wanted to pay for the homeless lady's soup behind him."

My eyes about popped out of my head. Homeless lady?! It wasn't until then that I glanced down and realized how I looked: hair sticking up everywhere, minimal make-up, a too-large but incredibly warm winter jacket, paint-splattered pants and a beat up pair of comfy clogs. In some ways I guess you could say the only thing I was missing was the Safeway cart!

Dr. Phil's demographic includes kids?

2008-11-24T07:30:00.000-08:00

Every Monday night I take my ten-year-old to basketball practice and I watch drill after drill, bored out of my mind. Last week, a boy plunked down next to me on the bench and leaned his head back against the wall. He wasn't feeling good. I don't know this kid (my son only recently joined this team) so I wouldn't think he'd want to talk to me, let alone initiate a conversation, but he did, and it not only caught me off guard, it made me realize how much kids are exposed to today.

After a few minutes, he said, "You ever watch Dr. Phil?"

"Dr. Phil?"

"Yeah. He's on at four every day."

"No," I said. "I don't usually have TV on at four."

"You should," he insisted, leaning forward. "The guy's amazing!"

I must've given him a skeptical look because he carried on, as enthusiastic as a minister preaching to his congregation. "He, like, talks to people who are all messed up but don't know how badly they're messed up and then he gives them advice and tells them how to fix their marriages or get their families talking to them again or how to stop gambling and get a job so they can get their kids back. Things like that."

"Do you watch it a lot?" I asked.

"Every day," he confirmed.

"You must really like it."

"I do," he said, nodding. "It makes me feel better watching people with a lot of problems in their life, you know? Cause then I see I'm not the only one."

I thought about that all the way home. How watching Dr. Phil seemed to make him feel better about himself, and yet how sad it was that a ten-year-old would habitually make Dr. Phil part of every afternoon vs. climbing a tree or building a fort or laughing along with a more age-appropriate show like Sponge Bob.

A must-have for serious writers

2008-11-18T08:11:00.001-08:00

When asked for writing advice, bum glue is the first thing I suggest. I've been there. I get it. I know how easy it is to get distracted, how hard to stay focused, how quickly second-guessing yourself can morph into giving up entirely on what might have been a perfectly good book.

For some, this seems to happen around page fifty (I know a few writers with 4-5 projects on the go, each with approx 50 pages written) while others make it mid-way through the creation of their first draft (around 150-200 pages) before they feel that dreaded.... phfffft!

Like that, gone goes your enthusiasm, your confidence, your creative spark. Recognize this up-down rollercoaster ride? Been there too? If you've ever tried to write a novel, I'm sure you have. It's nothing new. You're not the only one afflicted with this problem and that alone is good news.

Keep in mind, the work, your best work, gets done in the rewriting. Always. Structural issues, character development, dialogue that sings, setting, pacing, dramatic tension, creation of sub-plots that strengthen the main plot -- none of these gets nailed in a first draft.

If I've learned anything over the years it's that I never share the first draft with anyone. Or the second. Matter of fact, these days no one reads it but my agent (who won't see it until it's a strong 3rd draft) and possibly 1 or 2 readers I've cultivated relationships with who can see the big picture and offer advice the way an editor might.

So sit down. Write. And do not move from your chair unless your house is burning down. Even if you write garbage for two hours, that's okay. You can always rewrite it, but at least you're moving your project forward. Here's the other side of the coin: if you allow distraction or procrastination or your penchant for obsessing over that unattainable concept of perfection stop you from writing, you may never get published at all. And wouldn't that be a bummer?!

Bum glue. Don't have any? Get some!

I'm not heartless, just busy

2008-11-11T09:28:00.000-08:00

I love this picture. In many ways it reminds me of my life in the form of a dike with a huge, craggy hole in the middle that I'm constantly stuffing with just-completed and half-completed and must-get-done activities so the dike won't burst if left on its own, creating utter chaos.

Here's my point: I'm having the worst time juggling and prioritizing and making everyone happy these days, especially with my husband away and traveling so much.

That said, last week I received a manuscript in my mailbox, which isn't unusual on its own. I often get unsolicited manuscripts, as other authors do. However, this one belonged to someone I've met a few times, but only vaguely know.

Attached was a card and a gift certificate for dinner. The note said, "This may be presumptive but would you mind reading my novel and giving some feedback? Any at all would be great. No hurry, no pressure. ie., if it were to take you a month, I'd understand. P.S. Either way, enjoy the dinner."

I flipped through the 512 page manuscript and took a long, slow breath. He's being naive, I thought. Naive and sadly misinformed about how little disposable time I have.

Careful not to hurt his feelings, I took the time to respond with a letter. In it, I politely explained that I really would like to help, but I don't have time to read his novel, not this month or next or even into the new year. I explained that I'm a month behind on my own novel. Then I gave him some general advice and a handful of pointers (2 paqes worth), suggested some books that might help him move his novel to a higher level, and attached a sample query letter for when it came time to look for an agent. I also returned the gift certificate.

Yesterday I ran into this guy at the dry cleaners. He was with his wife and after I smiled and said hello, he hurled this comment over his shoulder as they exited: "That's the author I told you about. The one who's too good to help anyone else out now that she's published!"

Words fail me, you know? They honestly do.

God bless the plumber...

2008-11-04T07:57:00.000-08:00

When I saw this sign, I cringed, thinking about all the nightmare jobs plumbers deal with. Maybe it was an omen. I have, after all, had my fair share of tradespeople coming and going these days -- the treadmill repair guy, the furnace man, an electrician who put in an extra panel for me.

Fast forward a week and here I am, with a plumber ripping apart a wall upstairs, looking for a leak that's making its way from the main floor down into our basement.

I feel sorry for tradespeople who work with the public. Honestly, I do. A painter we recently hired told me one woman wouldn't let him use her bathroom, even though she lived 10 mins from the nearest town and he worked at her house for three days straight. "Happens all the time," he said. Last week, the electrician said one guy wouldn't let him use his phone, even though there was no cell service in the area.

I don't understood people who hire someone and then treat them like garbage. What's the logic? Ego? The need to feel powerful and in control? It's demotivating and completely unnecessary, and if I worked for someone who treated me like that, I'm quite sure my mouth would get me fired faster than the job would get done.

Okay, there's my rant for the day. I'm off to offer my plumber a cup of coffee and get back to work on chapter twenty two. Have a good one!

P.S. We had 318 kids show up for Halloween, by the way.

Bracing for Halloween at our house

2008-10-28T07:43:00.000-07:00

Confession: I've never liked Halloween, even when I was a kid. I hated dressing up in costumes (still do) and candy and sweets just aren't my thing. However, when I had kids, I got into the spirit of it for their sake.

I remember when they used to dress up like gorillas or magicians or skeletons. They'd carry plastic pumpkin pails and their heads would swivel with admiration when they saw all the other faux-fir or glow-in-the-dark sequined outfits kids were wearing. Not so anymore. Now they're 10 and 12, and they're hanging a fake dead body from the basketball hoop, setting up fog machines & strobe lights, and trying to decide how many movement activated spiders dropping from the roofline are too many.

Since moving here four years ago, without fail, we've had 250+ kids come streaming up the driveway between 7 and 9 pm every October 31st. The first year it happened, I was dumbstruck. The second, my 84 year old father-in-law was visiting and couldn't stop shaking his head. Last year I stayed bent over at the front door for a solid 30 minute stretch without straightening, shoveling candy into outstretched bags.

Hmmm... Maybe next year a family vacation away at the end of October might be in order! Think they'd go for it?!

Kudos for an article worth reading

2008-10-23T08:01:00.000-07:00

Patricia Wood, author of Lottery, sent me a link to this article from Poets & Writers magazine (a favorite of mine; check it out if you haven't already) Thanks, Pat! If you're in the business, and plan to stay, I'd recommend reading it.

I've never met Chuck Adams, but I'd like to. I like what he says, how he says it, and the way he leaks common sense all over the page in this Q&A. For those who don't know, Chuck was the editor who acquired Sara Gruen's now infamous Water for Elephants. I've pasted three excerpts below:

Q. What are you looking for in a piece of writing?
A. The first thing is the voice. If it's got a strong voice, I'm going to keep reading. And if a story sneaks in there, I'm going to keep reading. To me, those are the two most important things. I want a voice and I want to be hooked into a story. I believe very strongly that books are not about writers, and they're definitely not about editors—they're about readers. You've got to grab the reader right away with your voice and with the story you're telling. You can't just write down words that sound pretty. It's all about the reader. You've got to bring the reader into it right away. If the writing is poetic and so forth, that's nice. I'm reading something right now that has an amazing voice, and I'm only fifty-six pages into it, but I'm already getting a little tired because it's so nice, if you know what I mean. It's so pretty. It's like every page is a bon bon, and I want a little break somewhere. It's become self-conscious, in a way.

Q. How long does it take you to know?
A. You can usually tell after a paragraph—a page, certainly—whether or not you're going to get hooked. Every now and then, something will surprise you. I remember one novel at Simon & Schuster that I was reading, more as a favor than anything else. The writing wasn't great, and the story was a little on the predictable side—it was okay, but a little boring—but then I got to the end and it surprised the hell out of me. I went back and thought, "F**k, this is really something. I would have given up after fifty pages if I hadn't promised somebody that I would read it." I ended up buying it and it did really well.

Q. This is the magazine's MFA issue. Do you have anything to say about them?
A. Obviously a lot of good writers have come out of MFA programs—you see it in their bios—so I know there's a lot of good work being done. I will confess that many of the MFA novels I see are better written than they are good books, if you know what I mean. There's a lot of good writing, but that doesn't necessarily add up to a good book. I feel like perhaps in those programs too much emphasis is being put on style and word choices rather than actually thinking about how to communicate with people. It's too much about—to make it sound terrible—but it's too much about showing off and not enough about trying to please a reader.

Again, I go back to the whole thing about storytelling. I'm old enough to have started reading back when it really was primarily about stories. I guess there were a lot of quality literary books being published then, but my mother didn't buy them. I read what was around the house: Edna Ferber and Daphne du Maurier and Mary Renault and Thomas B. Costain. These are writers you don't hear anything about anymore, but they were brilliant storytellers. They were also good writers, mind you, but they were brilliant storytellers. They would grab the reader right away and just not let go.

Today, I'm seeing better writing than the writing in those books, but I'm not seeing better storytelling. That was why Water for Elephants excited me. Sara is a really good writer. She's not a great stylist or anything—you're not going to sit down and read her sentences just for the beauty of them—but she tells such a great story.

I'm not who they think I am

2008-10-19T21:09:00.000-07:00

Each afternoon at 3:30 when my boys get off the bus, I meet them at the door, give them a hug, and then head back into to my office to write. I’m usually wearing a sweatshirt, carrying a chapter I just printed out, but clearly they see someone else -- possibly someone wearing an apron, carrying a tray of still-warm tarts. I know this because not long ago my youngest said, “Mom? Why don't you bake anymore?”

I hesitated. It wasn’t that I couldn’t remember when I’d stopped baking. I couldn't recall ever starting!

I admire people who bake, but it's not my thing. I tried years ago and got the same results over and over again. My cakes either sank into oblivion, came out like extra large hockey pucks or bubbled like volcanos and made my eyes burn when I opened the oven (it took three failed attempts at that recipe before I realized it called for 1 TBSP of vinegar, not 1 CUP). Eventually I admitted defeat and gave away every cake pan, pie plate, and rolling pin I owned, happy to spend my time writing instead.

But back to now... and my boys, who were standing at my desk waiting for an answer. Why don’t you bake anymore?

I didn't have the heart to point out that I never had, so instead I decided to morph into whoever they imagined me to be, and when I promised I’d bake a cake this week their faces lit up like I'd just parted the red sea. Then after they'd disappeared upstairs, I scribbled CAKE MIX on my grocery list -- the easy kind, where you drop in an egg, a cup of water, bake 30 mins and serve (apron optional).

Now I just need to borrow a pan!

There's nothing like a good pair of stilts

2008-10-15T08:48:00.000-07:00

I had a pair of homemade wooden stilts as a kid, the feet rests worn smooth from use. When I first got them, I fell a lot. Let's face it, walking on stilts is an acquired skill. You're up, down, then up again. You loose your balance, take an unexpected tumble, get bruised, and climb back on.

I took them camping, where I practiced walking over the campfire. I dragged them down to the creek, where I picked my way across from one side to the other while neighbor kids bet on how often I'd wipe out. I even recall walking to the corner store with them to buy ice cream.

My sister thought I was crazy, especially when I came home cut or bruised. She'd roll her eyes and say, "What's the point?"

I had trouble explaining their appeal, my need to strap them on every morning and go for a stroll. Today I understand what made them so compelling, though. Beyond the joy of mastering something bigger than myself, it was the infinite feeling of possibility they gave me.

This past weekend, my kids were given a pair of old drywall stilts and they were a hit. Every kid at Grandma's thanksgiving dinner wanted to try them, and every kid who did wiped out big-time. We broke out the band-aids, the Ozonol, the ice packs, but nothing would stop them. (I myself didn't strap them on -- I may be nostalgic here, folks, but I'm not stupid). At one point, I looked up at my youngest, took his hand, and said, "How's the air up there, buddy?"

"Real good!" he replied. "Mom, they make me feel like I can do anything!" And I smiled, because the writer in me understood exactly where he was coming from.

Loving the leaves, preparing for winter

2008-10-09T20:16:00.001-07:00

If I could, I'd freeze fall (specifically September and the first two weeks of October) and put those six weeks on a repeating cycle right up until Christmas Eve. I love this time of year! There's a certain winding down that happens, not only outside with the weather, but inside of me as well.

This is also the time of year where I start stocking up on things. I can't help it! I see squirrels scooting around our backyard, burying food for winter, and I kick into high gear without even realizing it. My husband will come home, open the pantry, and say, "Hol, do we really need 36 boxes of Kleenex?" or my nine-year-old will roll his eyes (as he did yesterday) and say, "Who buys 12 boxes of Frosted Flakes at the same time?!"

I tell them they don't know how good they have it. I also tell them "stocking up" is a woman thing, something they wouldn't understand. It is, right? A woman thing, I mean. Tell me there are more of you out there doing this!

P.S. This weekend is Thanksgiving in Canada and for me that means packing up the SUV and heading north to my home town of Athabasca to visit family. Of course, there'll be lots of good food and drink (hands in the air - Holly doesn't have to cook!) not to mention a few requisite tight smiles, topped off with polite but strained conversation between family members who aren't getting along and who keep switching places at the table so they don't have to sit next to each other.

Such fun! The writer in me (always on the hunt for new material or snappy dialogue) is already trying to pick a spot where I can hide my tape recorder for the evening and press PLAY.

Another French version of The Penny Tree

2008-10-06T14:24:00.000-07:00

Each novel takes on a life of its own, so much so that authors sometimes have trouble staying on top of everything that goes on after the release date. Here are some examples.

I was aware sub-rights for The Penny Tree had been sold to Quebec Loisirs, the French Canadian book club and that they planned a big push for this fall, but until google alert picked it up I hadn't seen the new cover they'd come up with (which I really like because she's leaning against a tree and the English title of the book is after all The Penny Tree).

In addition, here's something you may not know. I might never receive an actual copy of this version of the book. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. Authors have to push hard to chase down copies from book clubs, and in some cases I've simply given up, joined the club, and ordered a few copies of my own book for my personal library.

Stuff like this happens all the time. (ie., audio rights were sold for The Tin Box in Denmark, but I didn't find out until I read it on a royalty statement). Initially, when I was first starting out, I was appalled. I was the author! Shouldn't someone out there be communicating every detail with me, including the release of a new cover!?

Now I just laugh. I am, after all, only one fish in a sea filled with fish, and the publishing industry is in a constant state of flux and movement. Everything aside, I'm just grateful that my novels have been included in that movement.

Lunch time musings

2008-10-03T10:36:00.001-07:00

At lunch yesterday, I overheard an old guy at the table next to me tell the woman he was with that he had no regrets in his life -- not one. Maybe it was my mood, but I felt like swiveling around and calling him on it. Interesting as that sounds, how can it be true? How is it that he managed to maneuver through life and not have a few regrets?

Of course, he was probably posturing, if not for his lunch companion's benefit, maybe for his own. Regret is, after all, an intensely personal issue, one I believe the average person doesn't talk about with just anyone because it makes them feel vulnerable, and no one wants to voluntarily crawl out on that limb, right?

He smiled at me as he left and I smiled back, thinking about the novel I'm working on, knowing that if I want readers to fall in love with the story, as they do with any good story, I'll need to make sure they feel my main character has made them privvy to everything in his life, including the most personal regrets he'd never share with anyone else -- maybe even a few he's had trouble admitting to himself.

No, we are not all the same

2008-09-28T15:16:00.000-07:00

Just for fun, let's do a brief comparison of my life vs. another author's, okay? Below is a snapshot of fellow author Patricia Wood, who's so delighted by the bathtub in her room on the cruise ship she'll be living on for the next three weeks that she actually sent me a photo...with her in it. Keep in mind, Pat lives on a boat in Hawaii and only has a shower, so she has an odd fascination with bathtubs.

She's forever sending me photos: snapshots from a month-long trip to Norway, sunset photos from the boat she lives on in Hawaii, elbow-to-elbow photos of her and other authors nominated for the Orange Prize, drinking and having fun in London. All that aside, though, along with the bathtub photograph she sent yesterday, here's a brief back-and-forth of our emails to each other while we both happened to be online. You tell me. Do our lives seem even remotely similar?

HER: We were in Cabo yesterday. Docked in Puerto Vallarta today. Took a bus ride up the side of a mountain and just missed a rock slide. Stopped at a tequilla factory (glug/glug) and our nutso tour guide was so out-of-this-world funny I swear I'm putting him in my next book. What's new there?

ME: Plumber showed up 5 hours late yesterday, then charged me $318 more than the original $149 quoted (glug/glug); I have a cold/flu/fever; hubby came home from Zurich but leaves for San Francisco tomorrow; my kids built a 3-story tree fort in the backyard without permission (see photo of work in progress + end result) while I was writing.

Am still trying to determine how they got the leather seats from their big brother's van up onto the top floor (see the seats in 1st photo on the ground?!!) and how much it's going to cost me to pay off the neighbors so they'll speak to us again.

HER: Wow! I love tree forts. Your kids are sure creative, huh?

ME: I'm not finished... Last night a bear ripped apart our neighbor's compost bins, then got into a bag of garbage the boys left hanging from the tree fort. I also just learned it's illegal to kill skunks so I'm trying to figure out how to politely entice the one we have living under our shed to move on and find itself better digs.

HER: OMG, what a coincidence! Our maid keeps leaving towel-shaped animals on our bed each night (along with chocolates) and last night I swear it looked like a skunk!

ME: Eat a bag of dirt, Pat.

In defense of the sloth

2008-09-16T19:55:00.000-07:00

Someone's been brainwashing my nine-year old. Either that or they're slipping him a concoction that's changing his sweet natured self into a seasoned mouth piece.

Let's cut to yesterday. My husband's been traveling a lot on business again (last week he was in Zurich) which means I'm in single-parent mode. Anyhow, I forgot to sign a form for my son's teacher, and when he got home he was so upset he started in on all the other things I've not been doing well. No need going over his list, right? Let's just say it made no sense and here's where our discussion ended up...

"And what about last Saturday?" he said, citing yet another example. "God, Mom, you slept in until 9:30?! Are you related to Sid the Sloth? (for those unfamiliar, he was referring to a character in Ice Age.) Other mom's in the neighborhood don't sleep in that late!"

Instead of saying, "No, they don't, but they also aren't awake writing their butts off until 1:45 a.m., either," I just smiled all zen-like and said, "Actually, I like sloths" which only incensed him more. There was pause where he glared at me, followed by, "Well you aren't doing a very good job these days so maybe you should think about that."

Which was when I lowered myself to his level and said, "Look, it's not like I applied for the job fully qualified, okay?"

"I don't think they would've hired you if you had," he shot back.

Pleasant little household anecdote, hmmm? I've noticed, however, this same pattern repeating itself every fall when my kids go back to school and my writing rises to the top of my priority list. It's a big adjustment (for all of us.)

P.S. I really do love sloths. I've had this adorable stuffed sloth on my desk for five years now and he always makes me smile.
Hoo-rah to all the sloths out there!

Write it, take aim, shoot and move on

2008-09-10T10:07:00.000-07:00

Being an author can be a humbling career choice. Most writers (including me) head into it with high hopes, big dreams, and endless enthusiasm. They're looking for a big book deal. They dream of seeing their first ever novel front and center in every book store. And they're determined to earn all of the accolades that come with their definition of 'success' as an author.

Sound overly optimistic to you? Not really, because if you don't approach it with that kind of exuberance, you might give up sooner than you think, especially when you realize just how many uncontrollables there are in this business.

I recently spoke with an author who'd published her first and only novel in 1998. It was good, really good, yet she hasn't written anything since. When I asked why, she said, "It's too competitive for me. You either make a whack of money, like the top 20 authors out there do, or you don't make enough to live on so you can keep writing. I had big plans for my novel and then... it just seemed to fizzle away after it came out. I know now that my expectations were set too high, but after that, I didn't have it in me to write another one. It's just too hard. All of it. Know what I mean?"

I did, yet it still made me sad, and I caught myself wanting to coach her and urge her on, tell her to keep writing. I didn't, though, because I could tell it wouldn't make any difference.

Years ago, I had a discussion with another author, this one a NYT bestseller of many novels. Here's what she said: "I've met many talented writers who'll never make it in this business. Some could write circles around me. Others had huge egos that required regular feeding. Many lacked likability. Most, however, had no business sense and failed to understand this: You are only as good as your last book, which does have a shelf life, so aim high, write it to the best of your ability, shoot it out there, and move on to the next one."

Good advice, huh?

Website refreshed... Check!

2008-09-07T12:21:00.000-07:00

I've been busy cleaning up a long list of overdue issues so I can focus 110% on my writing over the next 8 weeks. One was to "refresh" my website, originally made up of 18 pages (including the first chapter of every book -- ugh! Whose idea was that?!) However, it's now been slimmed down to a mere six. Not a major revision, though my bio page has been updated and we've posted some new pictures. You can take a look here at hollykennedy.com

Next up, overdue tax forms for foreign publishers... such fun!

Is any friendship worth this?

2008-09-03T07:49:00.000-07:00

I'm not a gym person. If I'm going to work out, I'll do it at home, thanks, which is one reason why I can relate to this guy. Six months ago, I began using my treadmill and elliptical machines on a daily basis, and after averaging a combined 18 hrs/month on both, my treadmill started giving me major trouble.

The repairman and I are now on a first name basis (he's installed three new motors, an electrical board, a new belt) and now he has to replace the entire machine because apparently ours is a "commercial" Precor unit that requires the kind of wiring homes aren't typically equipped with vs. gyms (hence the burned out motors and other horrors.)

That said, take a look at this video clip. It's a commercial for a bank, but it's hilarious and has elements I relate to. My friendship with my treadmill hasn't been easy, either!

Announcing Mia King's next novel

2008-08-30T13:39:00.000-07:00

Author Mia King is celebrating the release of her 2nd novel, SWEET LIFE (Berkley Books), on Tues, September 2nd, so swing by her site at http://www.miaking.com/ and check it out. She has a great gift basket give-away you don't want to miss!

SWEET LIFE is the story of Marissa Price, a corporate exec who leaves her career and the island of Manhattan for the island of Hawaii when her husband Paul is offered a new job. It seems like the perfect opportunity to save her marriage, regain her sense of self, and reconnect with her eight-year-old daughter, Pansy. But the family’s new house is a fixer-upper at best, her daughter wants to be homeschooled, and what needs fixing the most—her marriage—is the first to crumble when Paul announces he wants some time apart to find himself. Pulled in opposite directions, Marissa is faced with the most important decision of her life—a choice that will define who she is, what she wants, and where her happiness lies.

Preparing for a busy fall

2008-08-24T19:50:00.000-07:00

I've been away on a mini family vacation (saw a grizzy bear + two cubs; watched my husband flip a canoe in the middle of a lake; took a dip in Radium Hot Springs) and am just now getting unpacked and reorganized.

ie., I have ten snail mail packages on my desk that were promised to readers from Edson, Alberta to Nova Scotia, New Jersey, Ohio, even Paris, that will finally be delivered to the post office tomorrow. For those who've been waiting on me, sorry it's taken so long!

My website is also being 'refreshed' and I'm hoping to have that posted and off my list within a week. It's clean up time at my end, and after my kids go back to school Sept 2nd, my husband will be heading into a fall with tons of travel all over the globe, which means I'll be writing 5-6 nights/week from 8 pm to 1:00 a.m. during Sep/Oct/Nov so I can get this new novel finished and polished to a shine.

Note to self: must add loads of espresso to my grocery list.

Hello, criminals? You picked the wrong neighborhood

2008-08-17T12:55:00.000-07:00

I sleep with a baseball bat beside my bed. A steel baseball bat. I also keep my car alarm on my night table and have trigger alarms on my patio doors and windows. Oh, and I have our dog, a 165 pound beast no stranger wants to meet in the dark. Which brings me to what happened a few nights ago...

Three semi-inebriated young guys broke into our neighbor's truck, stole their GPS system, then egged my living room window while arguing about whether or not they should break into our house next. My husband and one of the neighbor kids (who had his bedroom window open) heard them.

It was late and I was hanging up wet laundry when I heard a few crashes (eggs being pitched at my living room window.) By the time I made it upstairs all I saw was my husband's foot going out the front door along with the flash of a steel baseball bat. I followed, carrying damp laundry and a clothes hanger. I heard my husband yell, stepped onto the front porch and saw the back end of him disappear through the trees. I also heard a voice say, "Holy ----! We're in trouble!"

Running, I followed all the way to the end of our street and when I caught up to my husband, he and our neighbors were already breaking into groups to hunt down the culprits (who, in their haste, had dropped the stolen GPS system.)

Hello, thieves? You picked the wrong neighborhood to launch careers as criminals. My husband's a marathoner who can run like stink without adrenaline. And that truck you broke into? The guy who owns it manages the firehouse and that was a thermal camera he was using to track your progress through the bush. And that tall guy who joined my husband searching for you as you huddled down by the river, crapping your pants? He has his black belt in Tae Kwon Do.

Oh, and that woman carrying wet laundry and a clothes hanger? Consider yourself lucky you managed to get away and didn't have to contend with her. Trust me, she's worse than all of them put together when she's mad.

P.S. We know where you live.

Help! I have sagging bookshelves

2008-08-14T12:54:00.000-07:00

I have this rule. I only keep two copies of each of my novels (whether French, German, Greek, Danish, Italian, Large Print, Clean Living version, etc.) and still I'm finding it takes more bookshelf space than I have. Time for a few give-a-ways!

If you'd like a French copy of The Tin Box or The Penny Tree (or if you know someone who's French and would like to give them a treat) I'll autograph and mail a copy to the first person who sends me an email for each book.

I'm also giving away two English hardcovers of The Tin Box, one trade paperback of The Penny Tree, and two trade paperback copies of The Silver Compass. Oh, and if there's anyone out there who'd like a Danish copy of The Tin Box, I have one of those up for grabs as well.

The art of eavesdropping

2008-08-10T17:12:00.000-07:00

It really is an art form, you know, one that needs constant practice and refinement if you want to master it with any subtlety and finesse (enough that your husband doesn't lose patience with you in a restaurant.)

ie., while having dinner out last week with my hubby, I listened in on a heated conversation between an unhappy couple next to us (they finally agreed to disagree about their son's choice for a wife) while also eavesdropping on an eyebrow raising "we only have an hour " let's-eat-and-get-out-of-here talk between a couple at the opposite table who looked like they'd slipped off their wedding bands at the door (trust me, all the signs of an affair were there.) Beyond that, a woman and her friend were at a corner table, one wiping away tears while the other said, "He really wasn't worth it."

I know. It's invasive and impolite, but (shrug) I can't help it. It's not intentional, more like a multi-tasking reflex I can't control. I'm an author after all and on a subconscious level I'm always looking for new material, but beyond that... I really do find people and what they go through fascinating. No crime there, right? To be fair, I also listen in on my own family. For example, yesterday, I overheard a chat between my nine-year-old and his buddy that enlightened me on a child's point of view when it comes to the development of the human brain (potentially good material for some future novel.) It went like this:

My son: "You don't really have a brain until you're two. Until then it's just mush, like Jello. From two until five it grows, then when you turn five the protective cover falls off and your brain starts soaking up everything everybody says to you and everything you see on TV."

Other kid (looking skeptical): "Huh... Do you think your brain has changed since your cover came off?"

My son: "Oh, yeah! Until I was five, speed meant nothing to me! I'd ride down a big hill on my bike or go on a rollercoaster and I didn't care cuz I didn't know anything about death or dying. I won't do any of that now, though. Now I know too much."

Time to fess up, bloggers. Are any of you shameless eavesdroppers like me?

The weight of a good chapter

2008-08-08T08:56:00.000-07:00

I spoke with a book club from Sacramento last night, a group who took the time to read all three of my novels before setting up the call with me. (How great is that!? Thanks again, guys!) One woman asked what I aspire to achieve each day when I sit down at my computer. "And please don't say you aspire to write a bestseller," she added, "because for any author that's a given. Tell us what you hope to achieve day by day."

That's easy. You know what it's like when you're reading a good book and you're tired and you think, "I'll just finish this chapter and then I'll turn off the light" but then you can't help yourself so you read the opening of the next chapter and... ooomph... you get sucked right back in?

There. That's what I aspire for each day (which is, of course, what every author aims for.) To have readers so invested in the weight of the chapter I'm working on that they can't stop reading, which of course means working on a story so compelling each chapter feels like its own rich little book. I'm not saying I've managed to achieve this with every chapter I've ever written, but it is what I aim for each day as I continue to grow as an author.

The best way to enjoy Kananaskis country? Bring your own bear

2008-08-04T11:07:00.000-07:00

As usual, the revolving door that is our guest room has been busy this summer. Friends were just here from Winnipeg and to make sure they had fun we took them up to Kananaskis country for a few days. Of course, we kennel our dog (Sullivan aka Sully) like anyone else, but we also bring him with us when it makes sense, and this was one of those times. In case you can't read it, the yellow sign below says Warning: Bear in Area.

The Delta at Kananaskis Village takes dogs and every time we go ours creates his own little stir. Some people stare, others back away. Many ask if they can take a picture. Size aside (165 lbs) few consider him menacing though, probably because he usually carries a stuffed yellow toy in his mouth.

All that said, it really was a peaceful couple of days and here are a few snapshots to prove it. (If you love the mountains and you've never been through Kananaskis in the Rockies, check it out sometime. It's one of those "must see and do" places to go.)

Putting the brakes on negative waves

2008-07-27T16:26:00.003-07:00

After chatting with countless book clubs over the past 3-4 years, last night I was asked a question I'd never been asked before. Here it is: "You often mention books on your blog that you've really enjoyed. Could you also start posting the names of those you haven't liked?"

"No," came my reply, followed by this explanation...

Working alone, with little or no feedback for months and months on end, authors pour everything they've got into their work, and after writing & revising & restructuring a manuscript time and time again they then offer it up to their agent for consideration (if they have an agent, and I won't get into how hard getting one is other than to say the process is filled with the kind of rejection most sane people would never purposefully put themselves through.)

Moving on... After reading the manuscript, your agent's opinion will usually result in yet another round of revisions prior to the manuscript's release to a handful of carefully chosen editors at various publishing houses, each of whom will have their own opinion about what's working, what's not, if the book "speaks" to them, whether a P&L (profit and loss) projection can be done up that will be accepted by their bosses, and if their house will have room for the book on their already tight list.

After a book is purchased there will then be another round of revisions as your editor rolls up his/her sleeves and aids you in fine-tuning that rough diamond of a novel that's ultimately on its way to readers at the far end of the publishing assembly line where it'll be plopped into book stores to compete against an average of 150,000+ other novels each year. Then, when it is finally released, book reviewers will weigh in with their opinions (some who've sadly never written a book themselves) in a most public manner.

I think you see my point here, don't you?

Writing a novel (for those who manage to finish one that's saleable) is hard work; getting it published is equally difficult; growing & continuing to write while under a steady stream of critical scrutiny, not an easy task. And then having a fellow author bad mouth your book on his/her blog after it's released?

Not cool. Not even a little bit.

The joy of late nights at my keyboard

2008-07-23T08:51:00.001-07:00

I'm home, fully inspired and dying to write, but unable to FOCUS given my zoo-like household. Here. Let me show you a brief snapshot from yesterday... 10:00 a.m. The treadmill repairman just left. The phone's ringing off the hook, my voicemail is full, my kids are back from Grandma's & already in a full tilt argument. The doorbell keeps going off every 15 minutes, the cats are feeling neglected and making enough noise that I'm considering re-homing them, and the dog's back from the kennel but refuses to climb into the shower.

Fast forward 30 mins: the shower door bursts open and our 170 lb Newfoundland flies out covered in soap with me hot on his heels (dressed, but as wet as he is.) Upstairs I find two of my son's friends and a Fedex guy at the door (the Fedex guy is delivering french copies of The Penny Tree.) I tell the boys to come in and I sign for the books (apologizing for the calamity and my appearance) and when I look up there's a plumber parked in the driveway (here to fix a leak before friends arrive from Winnipeg next week for a visit) and a kid selling chocolate almonds is on his way up my front steps (fundraising for diabetes.)

And I'm sharing this with you because?

Because it helps people understand why I do so much of my writing late at night between 10 pm and 2 am!

Finding clarity & inspiration in Boston

2008-07-18T06:21:00.000-07:00

I now know exactly how my character will feel as the sun rises and sets each day in Boston's Public Garden. I also know what it'll be like for him to watch the pedal-driven swan boats fill and empty time and time again throughout each day, and how hard it will be for him not to smile at the steady stream of kids that run through the Beacon & Charles Street entrance to climb all over the infamous 'Make Way for Ducklings' statues.

I've talked to maintenance staff, tourists, sketch artists, even a professional mime who often frequents one entrance. I've spent hours taking all kinds of pictures and scribbling notes, but until yesterday (in the midst of a flurry of inspired writing back in my hotel room) I don't think I fully realized what a difference coming here would make to my story.

If you're in Boston, wander through the Public Garden. You won't regret it.

Bound for the Public Garden

2008-07-12T18:26:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow I'm driving 5 hours north to drop my kids off at my mom's, then 5 back to get home before flying to Boston for the rest of the week. I'm meeting my husband there, but he's got a packed schedule with his own work so that means I'll have four uninterrupted days to immerse myself in the novel I'm currently writing (insert enthusiastic whoop here!)

Keeper of the Pond is set in the Public Garden so I'm taking my camera and my laptop. I've been there before, but not like this, so after exploring every inch of the place (including the Boston Common) I plan to park myself in a quiet spot overlooking the pond and finish two key scenes the book hinges on. Wish me luck!

If the label fits...

2008-07-08T21:34:00.001-07:00

You've heard the stereotype before, haven't you? That many writers are unapproachable, eccentric, brooding drunks with inner demons that drive their creative energy? In some cases, I'm sure this is true, but not so with me. I'm not a big brooder, I rarely drink, and as far as I know I have no demons camped out in my subconscious. I do, however, have my oddities. For example, I have a tendency to talk a lot, especially when it comes to the topic of writing, the publishing industry, or any kind of anecdote or story. Yet I do my best writing when I pull away from everyone, stop talking, and become as reclusive and closed off as possible without completely neglecting my family. Not exactly traits that compliment each other, are they?

Yesterday I met a woman who said that after reading my novels she could tell I was one of "them sensitive types" and I smiled and thought, I'll take that label! After all, it only seems fair that writers are judged by the end result and not by our behavior during the creative process, don't you think?

Happy Independence Day U.S. bloggers

2008-07-04T09:09:00.000-07:00

Of course, it goes without saying that the U.S. is busy celebrating today, which also means everyone in the publishing world won't be back at work until late next week. I myself am curled up with a box of Robaxacet, as I have been since tearing a ligament in my back last week. Hopefully it will all be back to normal soon. In the meantime, here's hoping you either have your feet up or else you're busy chugging back a few well deserved drinks.

Countdown to Boston

2008-06-26T19:10:00.001-07:00

Today was the last day of school and for me that means a few things... Until my kids go back in Sept my writing will grind to a slow crawl, my house will turn into a daycare of sorts, and my refereeing skills will require sharpening.

It also means we're heading into Canada Day weekend, a time when everyone regroups and celebrates with the usual requisite parade, pancake breakfast, etc. Last of all, it means I'm only 19 days away from flying to Boston (sans kids) where I get to spend 4 days wandering around the Boston Common (sans kids) and the Public Garden (did I say sans kids?!) where my next novel is set. Insert an enthusiastic *whoop* right about here!

Finding your rope swing

2008-06-22T20:52:00.000-07:00

Growing up, we had a big old rope swing in our neighborhood. It wasn't on anyone's property. It was tied to the branch of a huge tree on the side of a steep hill overlooking our neighborhood, and that meant it was fair game for anyone to use.

And use it we did.
The rope swing was revered by kids of all ages, whether six or sixteen. I was never 100% sure why, although I get it now. It didn't take a lot of skill to grab that rope, back yourself up, and run full-tilt to the jumping off point where you'd go airborne. Anyone could do it. Matter of fact, I recall a few parents giving it a good go, too.

Of course, it was the airborne part everyone loved, that feels-so-good rush that came over you when you were in the air and all the planets seemed perfectly aligned, at least for a few seconds.

I have no doubt dancers get that same feeling when they're dancing, or gifted musicians when they lose themselves in a piece of music, or race car drivers when they cross the finish line and hear the crowd roar. I'm sure the same holds true for waitresses when someone leaves a big tip, or sales reps when they overshoot their monthly quota, or even IT technicians when they solve what seemed like an unsolvable problem.

On some level, I think we all look for those airborne moments while we're doing whatever it is that we do. For me, it happens most often when I write. What about you?

How not to get published...

2008-06-15T21:10:00.000-07:00

A woman I met at a conference seven years ago emailed last week to catch up. She's written four novels and still can't find an agent to represent her. She has a shoebox full of rejection letters. She's frustrated, disheartened, and fighting to stay positive as she begins her fifth novel.

I like this woman. She's a retired English teacher, she has a sense of humor, and she's a good writer, but she's constantly getting in her own way. Years ago, I recommended a few books to her about the publishing industry and she said she didn't have time to read them, she already knew how to write. Twice last year she was 'almost' offered representation but refused to make changes to her manuscript and both agents backed away.

"I was told my novel's are too quiet," she said.
"Maybe they are," I replied.
"One said my female protagonist isn't likable."
"Maybe she isn't," I said.
"Another wanted me to cut a main character right out of the story, said she doesn't offer anything to the narrative drive!"
"Maybe she's right," I suggested.
"I'm so down," she complained. "What would you do next? I want your honest opinion."

So I gave it to her.

I told her not to write another word until she'd read these books. (By the way, I'm of the opinion that all four of these should be mandatory reading for aspiring writers trying to break in the industry.)

The First Five Pages by Noah Lukeman
The Forest for the Trees by Betsy Lerner
Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott
Writing the Breakout Novel by Donald Maas

"Listen to what agents are saying," I said. "You need to be more flexible. Swallow your ego. Shelve your pride. Show them you're professional, someone who's easy to deal with vs. a diva with an attitude. Open your mind. Think of your novel as a product. How can you take what they're saying and use it to make your product more saleable? What you're doing isn't working, so kick the stool away and do something radically different! Allow these people to take you under their wing, experts that they are, and guide you. It's what they do for a living."

She emailed back and sheepishly admitted she hadn't read one of these books, that her husband had told her much the same thing not long ago; that if she didn't change her approach she'd never get published and she was probably developing a bad reputation in the industry among agents every time she queried like crazy and then didn't take their advice.

"Smart husband," I said. "Buy that man a drink."

What's the one hardest thing?

2008-06-09T09:08:00.000-07:00

I was asked this last week during a book club chat from a gentleman who writes a weekly column for a local paper and wants to tackle writing a novel.

"Is it the self-discipline required to write every day on the same piece of work for six months to a year? Or the rewriting once you've finished your first draft? Or the gutting and rewriting yet again after you receive editorial input from an agent or editor?"

"It's the story," I said. "Any writer can throw down snappy dialogue, a handful of poignant or humorous pages, a few chapters that are structured perfectly. Lots of writers are great at character development, and many churn out novels that are technically brilliant, but when all is said and done most readers want just one thing when they pick up a book -- to get sucked into a golden story that stands out from the crowd, the kind you can't put down. So for me, the story is always the one hardest thing."

I have this crazy dream...

2008-06-05T21:27:00.001-07:00

I've been given 90 days of solitary writing time and I get to choose where I spend them (this is one of my favorite fantasies, so humor me.)

Here's how my dream would go... I'd get paddled out to a tiny island carrying a laptop that operates on solar power. I'd be wearing sandals and island attire that would stay clean and unwrinkled the entire time I'm there (again, humor me; if I'm allowed to choose where I do this writing stint, I figure I'll drop kick a few other realities onto the other side of logic too.)
I'd bring a hammock, and my meals (including shots of espresso) would be delivered by the nice man who paddled me over to my tiny island. There'd be no phone, no family, no pets. Just me and the story for 90 days. This might not be everyone's heaven on earth, but it'd be mine -- just once. And no, you can't come with me. Find your own tiny island!

The Penny Tree released in France

2008-06-01T20:44:00.000-07:00

I find it interesting to examine the various takes on covers and titles when novels get published in foreign countries. Here's the cover for The Penny Tree (which was obviously retitled) released May 22nd in France.

I've also learned that Quebec Loisirs, Canada's French book club, bought subrights and plans to promote the book this fall in their catalogue. It's all good stuff, and I'm grateful it unfolds the way it does because it helps spur me on to be working on novel #4 when there's still lots happening with novel #2.

Best birthday gift ever

2008-05-28T08:15:00.000-07:00

My husband's away on business and it's the typical 'Kennedy zoo' around here, but this morning my son's surprised me by remembering that it's my birthday (possibly prompted by the 7 a.m. phone call their dad made from some airport to remind them?)

Here's the best part: Over breakfast, my boys informed me they're taking me for dinner tonight. Their dad left money in an envelope and after a heated discussion behind a closed bedroom door this morning they've decided they're taking me to (drum roll) ... Joey's Seafood, where, as my 9 year old said with a proud grin, "We want you to order whatever you want!"

So I have a seafood date tonight and I get to spend the entire day writing a scene I woke up thinking about this morning, a scene I can't wait to work on. Who could ask for more?

Raising a little nonconformist...

2008-05-26T07:16:00.000-07:00

It's Memorial Day in the U.S., but not so in Canada and that means today's a work day for me. However, before I get writing let me share a brief anecdote about my youngest. Last week he carried home one assignment four nights in a row. The first night his teacher asked him to complete a question he'd left blank. Here's that troublesome question and the progression of my son's answers as each day went by:

Q: How would you describe a poetic moment?
A: I wouldn't.

Q: Note from teacher - Please try anyhow.
A: I'm not a poetic kid. I like basketball.

Q: Same question + a new note that says, Please complete the assignment even if you aren't poetic.
A: Find a picture that makes you feel warm and write words about it. P.S. Nobody cares about this stuff.

Depression and Oranges

2008-05-21T08:03:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the lack lustre posts as of late. I've been busy writing (a good thing), finding myself more & more immersed in the novel I'm working on.

One section is set in the depression era so I found a bunch of photos like these and tacked them up next to my computer to wrap my mind around what it was like raising a family back then. Not an easy task, for sure...

On a separate note, Patricia Wood's debut novel Lottery has been short-listed for the prestigious Orange Prize which will be awarded June 2nd, so send good karma her way over the next few days.

Busy book club week

2008-05-16T10:15:00.000-07:00

Monday night I spoke with a book club from Portland, Wednesday it was nine women in Tampa, and last night I talked to Lydia and her crew from Chicago. Here's a smattering of the questions I was asked:

Q: Any writing superstitions?
A: I seem to have developed one that's here to stay. ie., I don't like odd numbers. The Tin Box has 29 chapters, which has always bothered me, but The Penny Tree has 32 and The Silver Compass has 26, and I already know that the novel I'm working on now will end with an even numbered chapter.

Q: Do you like long chapters or short?
A: I like 'em bite-sized, and I do my best to write my own this way because I think they make it easier to hold a reader's attention.

Q: Are there any books you've read recently that you would recommend?
A: The Book Thief by Markus Zusak, told from Death's POV, which shows you how talented this man is to pull it off the way he does. It's won numerous awards and at first I wasn't sure I'd like it, but it really is well done (thanks to Pat at Orion for giving it to me :)

Also, The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein, told from a dog's POV. I was fortunate to read an early ARC months ago, although it debuted this week on May 13th. It was bought for a seven figure advance and I've no doubt it'll leave it's mark on bestseller lists.

May in the Rockies...

2008-05-12T10:13:00.000-07:00

There's always a lot to see and do living in the Rockies, so much so that I often dread having to write when summer finally arrives. That wasn't a problem this weekend, though. Matter of fact, hunkering down to write Chapter 6 of Book 4 was pretty easy after waking up to this.

P.S. Mother's day was nice, and yes, I did get those ear plugs I was asking for.

What do you want for Mother's Day?

2008-05-07T07:18:00.001-07:00

I know there are mom's out there fantasizing about unwrapping jewelry, enjoying spa treatments, or having dinner in a revolving restaurant on Mother's Day while the waiter (who's so hot she can't stop staring) keeps the wine coming.

Not me, though. All I want is a box of earplugs for those days when I'm trying to pen a scene while the phone keeps ringing and doors keep slamming and half the neighborhood arrives at 3:30 to play with my kids, who won't stop arguing about whose turn it is! My husband thinks I'm kidding, but I'm not -- Ear plugs. Real simple. Someone please talk to him for me?

P.S. For anyone who read the post about my son's aggressive relationship with the tooth fairy earlier this winter, here's an update. He lost another tooth last night and when I got up this morning he was at the kitchen table with a $5 bill under one elbow, eating breakfast with his brother.

"Dude, she gave you five bucks?!" the older one said.

Thumbs up from the other side of the table. "Yup," my youngest replied. "And this time I didn't even have to threaten her!"

Come visit me at Chris Eldin's blog

2008-05-06T07:38:00.001-07:00

Chris is hosting author's on her blog all week and today is my day for The Silver Compass. Pop by here and leave your guesses to the three questions she picked based on the excerpt I submitted. The winner will be announced later today and he/she will get a copy of the book!

Good news! May's reading list just got a whole lot better...

2008-05-04T20:19:00.001-07:00

Has this ever happened to you? You finish reading a good novel and then... you just can't seem to find another one you're even remotely excited about? Well, it happens to me, as it did yesterday, and then I remembered that fellow author and good friend, Jacquelyn Mitchard, has a new one out!

Based on a true story, All We Know of Heaven was released last week. It's the sort of novel that will move readers of all ages. Like all of Jackie's stories, this one grabs you by the throat and immediately makes you want to run out and buy a few copies for gifts.

I tried, but couldn't copy her video clip about it over onto my blog, but it's great, so take 20 seconds, click on this link and go listen to it. It's an incredible pitch (Jackie never does anything that isn't top notch -- ie., I'm always green with envy when I look at her website.) Happy May reading everyone!

Back to work on novel # 4

2008-04-28T10:40:00.000-07:00

I just got home from Winnipeg, where I once lived and where both of my kids were born. I was there to promote The Silver Compass. After my reading, one woman approached me and politely said, "I've now read all your novels and with each one I think your writing gets better."

What a nice compliment. It also helps me explain why I waited five years to write my next novel, Keeper of the Pond. To be honest, I just wasn't ready. I didn't feel strong enough or confident enough to do the story justice. But now I feel I can, which makes letting go of The Silver Compass a little easier as I get back to work on novel #4.

Even so, the task itself, the completion of that first solid draft, makes me feel (as it always does) like I'm climbing a steep and rickety ladder! Tomorrow I'll be digging back into writing in a big way for the next 2-3 months. Wish me luck.

I'll never forget Cleveland... next up, Winnipeg... and I loved Juno!

2008-04-20T15:34:00.000-07:00

Thanks to everyone who came out to my reading in Cleveland where, yet again, I closed the store down after running wayyyyy over my time-limit because we were having such fun.

I guess I'll have to schedule future readings so I have 3 hours cause I'm clearly unable to fit everything into two! Picture this: While I was talking at 8:50 pm the janitor started vacuuming. Following that, at 9:00 pm, half the lights were turned off (an obvious nudge to wrap things up.) Then, while I was answering a few final questions, they began playing music throughout the store, strains of Good Night, Irene, Good Night. How funny is that?!

I don't blame the book store, though. I've managed a business before and I realize employees aren't paid to stay late. But when you have a crowd that's really engaged (as this one was) what can you do?

Next up, I'm off to Winnipeg, where I'll be reading and signing at McNally Robinson's new Polo Park book store on Thursday, April 24th at 7:00 pm. If you live nearby, why not come out and help me close the store down!? Chuckle...

P.S. I watched Juno on my way home from Cleveland and loved it. When the credits finally rolled, I kept thinking, Oooh, how I wish I'd written that! (the best possible compliment any writer can wish for!)

Hoping for a microphone in Cleveland...

2008-04-14T20:11:00.001-07:00

I lost my voice last week and although both readings Thurs and Friday were great, it wasn't easy making sure everyone at the back of the room could hear me Thurs night at Chapters in St. Albert... without a microphone. Ouch!

Thanks for coming out you guys. You were a great crowd! Next year I'll bring my own microphone, okay? My hubby has promised to buy me a portable one for Christmas :)

Next up, I'm off to Cleveland...

If you live nearby, please join us for a reading/signing this Thursday, April 17th at 7:00 pm at Joseph-Beth Booksellers in Legacy Village, 24519 Cedar Road in Lyndhurst, east of Cleveland.

Northern Alberta bound...

2008-04-09T10:44:00.001-07:00

Thanks to everyone who came out to meet me in Chicago, including all the employees from DDB Advertising as well as Diana and Sue, who arrived hours early to patiently wait in the front row... It was so great meeting you guys! And Borders Books on State Street? Your store rocks. I know I say this every year, but I love Chicago.

That said, I did slam my finger in a car door (it's black from the knuckle down, so I'm off for an x-ray this afternoon), I've got an ear infection, and I've almost completely lost my voice...

Still, this won't stop me from making it to my readings in St. Albert (tomorrow night, 7:30 pm, St. Albert Chapters) or Athabasca (Friday, 7:00 pm, Seniors Center). I may need a shot of something to make it through each reading (preferably espresso through an IV) but I'll be there all the same, and I promise we'll have fun.

I hope you can make it out!

Next up, a reading in Chicago plus contest winners from March

2008-04-05T12:21:00.001-07:00

I'm off to Chicago for a reading Monday, April 7th at Borders Books, 150 North State Street @ 12:30 noon. If you live in the area and are able to make it out, please do. I'd love to meet you.

Secondly, here are the winners (belatedly) from March's blog contest. Please send me your mailing addresses so I can forward the packages.
Thanks, and congrats!

1. J. Thomison from Oregon
2. Marie Wyliss from Lansing, Michigan
3. Rhianne Platt from New Jersey

By the way, we received 392 contest entries this month. Thanks everyone!

The Silver Compass has arrived ... Readings planned for Alberta/Chicago

2008-03-31T07:56:00.000-07:00

In some ways it seems odd having an April Fool's Day release date for a book, doesn't it? Either way, the next 3-4 weeks will be busy as I put aside what I'm working on now to properly introduce everyone to novel #3 of my writing career.

If you live in Southern Alberta, please join us this Friday, April 4th at 7:00 pm at Redwood House (Wolf Willow Room) in Redwood Meadows, approx 15 mins west of Calgary. Last year, we had over 50 attend and most stayed until 11 pm to chat, ask questions, and talk about the publishing industry.

There's no fee to attend (coffee, beverages, snacks included). However, this year, we've added a Silent Auction with $850 worth of books donated by fellow authors as well as book bags from the Strand Book Store in New York. (All proceeds will be donated to the Banded Peak School Library.)

And if you live in the Chicago area, please come join us at Borders Books, 150 North State Street on Monday, April 7th at 12:30 noon for a reading/signing. I'd love to meet you!

Additional events are also planned for later this month. Please refer to sidebar on right.

Spring break balancing act

2008-03-27T09:24:00.000-07:00

It's spring break, the kids are out of school, and my husband is away on business until Friday night (seems suspiciously convenient, don't you think?)

So far, I've spent three days juggling promotional details for the novel I have coming out next week (yes, The Silver Compass hits book stores Tuesday) along with my kids and a steady flow of interruptions...

First there was an hour-long argument where my youngest swore he saw his brother cheating at Monopoly. "Where are your ethnics!?" he kept screaming. "Where's your confidence?!" (To clarify, he meant ethics and conscience, both often discussed in our home.)

Then, on Tuesday, my oldest (with a straight face and seemingly 100% serious) asked why I don't run a daycare from our home during the summer months? My response? Something along the lines of, Are you out of your tiny little mind?!

Yesterday, I took them for haircuts, and my youngest suddenly became a wall, refusing to let anyone touch his head with scissors & demanding to know why(loudly) I can't just accept him for who he is?!

Of course, all this rattled the hairdresser so badly that she gave me the worst haircut I've had in years... I'm talking such a hack job here that as we exited that spring-break-infested hair salon, my oldest turned to me, grimaced, and said, "It's not too bad, Mom. Just don't show anyone the back of your head when you're promoting your new book."

Dream vacation gone bad?

2008-03-24T11:41:00.000-07:00

Now here's a picture that'll get any writer's creative juices flowing... Can you imagine wandering down a beach and stumbling across a sight like this?! I sure wouldn't be boarding a flight to leave that island any time soon, not unless I was medicated and strapped to a stretcher with restraints of some kind!

The fun behind character creation

2008-03-18T20:24:00.000-07:00

I've been developing a secondary character for my new novel, Keeper of the Pond. He's only in the first half of the book, but the man himself, and what he does for a living (he's a magician in the 1930s) will have a big impact on my main character and the choices he makes later in life.

This is my favorite part, creating the characters that will carry the story from beginning to end, letting them get under my skin, allowing them to become familiar enough that I start thinking about them all the time.

Want a character to be shorter? Poof! He's now four feet tall. Think she should have an addiction problem? Tap-tap-tap on your keyboard and suddenly the woman's gambling online after her family goes to bed. Need some dramatic tension? Poof again as a door opens and there stands the 15 year old son your protagonist never knew he fathered back in high school...

And all this states the obvious: that writers really are just a buncha control freaks, don't you think?

Oblivious to my own back yard

2008-03-13T21:19:00.001-07:00

Why is it that we often can't see the beauty of our own back yard until someone else comes along and explores it with a fresh set of eyes? When I looked at these photos this afternoon

(all of them taken 30-60 min from my front door) I went very quiet (a rarity for me), mostly because they show me what I've been missing over the last year while I've been hunched at my desk, writing, or else juggling my family's needs.

My author guest, Patricia Wood, leaves tomorrow and given the sheer volume of photos she took (I'm talking hundreds here) I think I can safely say she enjoyed her visit stumping through Kananaskis country and the Rockies almost as much as I did.

Author acting as tour guide

2008-03-10T21:32:00.000-07:00

The guest room at my home is a busy place. There's forever someone coming or going, family or friends on their way to the mountains or on their way home from skiing/hiking/climbing...

At the moment, I have an author, Patricia Wood, visiting from Hawaii who's never seen the Canadian Rockies. Or a black bear. Or a dog as big as a black bear. She flew in to meet with four Calgary book clubs and a library group, all enthusiastic readers and huge supporters of my work. (By the way, thanks ladies. I can't believe there were 38 of you at the bistro last night from the first two clubs. You guys rock!)

While she's here, Pat's also determined to see the mountains, so today I took her to Kananaskis (only minutes from where I live) and also plan to take her to Banff. She keeps begging me to help her spot a moose, which will take more effort than she realizes as she's under the impression one simply snaps their fingers and *poof* a moose materializes, camera ready. Clearly she's been watching waaaay too much Animal Planet, don't you think?

Three prize packs for March + don't forget to check out these debut authors

2008-03-06T17:42:00.000-08:00

The Silver Compass hits book stores a little over three weeks from now on April 1st and because we've had such good response to the monthly blog contests (in Feb we received a total of 286 entries) this month we're giving away three prize packs.

Each winner will receive a copy of the book, their own silver compass and the funky book bag shown above. So pass the word to your friends and family and get them to enter too. One entry per person and please send your email entry to holly@hollykennedy.com before March 31st. Good luck!

P.S. Don't forget to check out these brand new debut authors: http://www.theresefowler.com/ http://www.charlienewton.com/ as well as Trish Ryan's upcoming debut, due out April 30th. It's called He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not: A Memoir of Finding Faith, Hope and Happily Ever After. Learn more at Trish's blog here:
http://trishryanonline.blogspot.com/

Meeting readers in cyberspace

2008-03-04T07:51:00.000-08:00

As a kid, and then a young adult, and then a young woman, I used to dive into books to escape, not unlike the average reader. I was always on the hunt for a good story, a story I could not put down. Some of the books I read were good, others only average, and then there were those that touched me or moved me in such a way that I'll never forget them.

I hated the last twenty pages of those books. You know the feeling. When you're reading and it's so good, the story and the characters and the writing so fine, you don't want it to end. And then you get that awful feeling in your stomach when you notice there are only twenty pages left.

Right about then I would read as slow as I could go, savoring every sentence, not ready to say good-bye to the story or the characters. Then I'd close the book and immediately think about the author.

At that point, I would (and still do) read the book's Acknowledgments Page, trying to get a 'feel' for this person. I wanted to meet the author. I wanted to send him/her a note and tell them what their book had meant to me, but back before the internet existed that wasn't easy to do.

Thankfully that's not the case today.

ie., Yesterday I received the sweetest note from a seventy year old woman from Albany who borrowed her granddaughter's laptop to send me an email. She was writing to tell me how much she loved The Tin Box, although she complained about three swear words that offended her, and then we had a brief back-and-forth about how important it is for an author to write with 'realism' in mind vs. worrying about offending readers.

Some emails are pure gush, which is great because every author needs a certain amount of gush to keep going. Others complain about a scene a reader didn't like, or an ending that wasn't wrapped up enough for their taste, or they might point out a piece of dialogue they feel didn't ring true.

It's all good, though, because I learn from all of these comments. Better yet, because of cyberspace I'm accessible to readers, and genuinely open to whatever they might have to say.

Please keep those emails coming :)

And the winner is...

2008-03-02T11:20:00.000-08:00

February's winner of a silver compass and a copy of my new novel is... Wordman17, who said I could post his real name, Mitchell Taylor. Mitchell just moved to Alaska (something to do with a job in conservation) so the compass will come in handy as will the book when he's stuck in his igloo-like new home late at night with nothing else to do. Happy reading!

Calumet City an amazing 'debut novel'

2008-02-27T19:44:00.001-08:00

This business comes packed with more rejection than the average person faces in a lifetime, unless you sell vacuum cleaners door-to-door, cause I know someone who does and that's another job where there's a lotta door slamming going on.

That said, when a debut novel is creating buzz those of us in the business realize there's a good chance the author who wrote it has half a dozen manuscripts under his/her bed that have never been published, which is good news for readers, because it means they're about to read a 'debut novel' from a talented author on the rise who not only writes like a dream, but is probably business savvy and has battle scars from years of rejection to prove he/she can stay the course.

Charlie Newton is one of those writers.

We started our writing careers in the same classroom seven years ago. Charlie writes noir fiction, the kind you read with the lights on and a baseball bat next to you. He's also written eight novels in eight years, and after a whack of steady rejection on every level, his eighth -- considered his debut novel -- is being released March 4th. It's called Calumet City and yes, it is as good as the reviews below say it is.

Here's his website http://www.charlienewton.com/ and when you buy his book, you might wanna buy one of those baseball bats, too!

"Readers are likely to need a day off work after finishing Newton's breakneck debut—they'll have been up all night. Those who relish tortured heroines, unrelenting intensity, and full-throttle races through urban minefields will snatch this one up." —Booklist (starred review)

"The best cop noir in years..." —Lee Child, NYT bestselling author

"Newton's debut novel is a galloping ride from first page to last." —Kirkus Reviews

"In Newton's searing debut, Patti Black, Chicago's most decorated cop, gets caught in a web of murder and betrayal. Newton, who based his heroine's character on a real Chicago police officer, creates a netherworld full of violent and duplicitous people." —Publishers Weekly

"Couldn't put it down. Newton's one hell of a writer..." —Jonathan Eig, senior special writer for The Wall Street Journal

At the mercy of technology

2008-02-25T08:51:00.001-08:00

It started last week and it's been going down hill fast... I can no longer check email cause my system won't recognize the wireless card. It suddenly won't print, either. Then yesterday, I turned it off and backed away for six hours so I wouldn't toss it against a wall, and when I returned I learned the battery had died. Now the only way it works is if it's plugged in and I type in s-l-o-w motion so it doesn't lock up (ever met a writer who types slowly?)

Clearly February 2008 won't go down as one of my best months. Gah!! Isn't it crazy how dependent we are on technology and how fast a person's mood goes south when things go wrong?

Research & other pursuits

2008-02-18T09:26:00.001-08:00

I've been working on my new novel, The Keeper of the Pond, and while doing so I keep having to stop to look up details I otherwise wouldn't have to if the front end of the story wasn't set in the 1930s and 40s. This is new for me, because my other novels have been set in current day. Still, I'm enjoying it.

ie., I had to insert three lines into a scene where a family is listening to a radio, but what kind of radio? (Philco radios were common back then btw) While googling I found this photo. Isn't it gorgeous? Oh, how I wish I could have this sculpture in my office!

Also, while looking for info on shipping & distribution in the 50s, I found this snapshot of a man who built a 'traveling hotel bed' which he pulled 1200 miles behind a bike from Michigan to Boston to save money along the way. Can you even begin to imagine sleeping in this thing?!

Moving on from that burst of enthusiasm...

Reminder: This month's contest to win your own jazzy little silver compass and an autographed copy of the book (due out April 1/08) closes Feb 29th. If you haven't already done so, you can enter by sending an email to holly@hollykennedy.com including your name and an email address where you can be contacted. Good luck everyone!

BC Book Fair + Fellow authors news

2008-02-13T07:58:00.000-08:00

I just got back from the BC Book Fair in Victoria, an annual event attended by 50+ independent book sellers. It was a great trip... as long as I take out the part where I learned enroute that my identity has been stolen. But let's not go there!! Let's stick to a post about books so I don't blow a gasket...

I came home from the book fair with a dozen ARCs of upcoming novels and a few spring/summer catalogues.

Flipping through one, I was thrilled to see that Kristy Kiernan has her 2nd novel coming out in August 2008 so mark your calendars and watch for Matters of Faith everyone!

Beyond that, Therese Fowler's debut, Souvenir, came out across North America yesterday. Therese was kind enough to send me a copy and although I haven't read it yet, I'm looking forward to starting it this weekend. It's been sold in numerous foreign countries, was chosen as a Book Sense Notable, and is creating a lot of industry buzz!

On a final note, I also stumbled across a gorgeous two-page spread in Berkley's catalogue promoting Patricia Wood's June 2008 paperback release of her debut Lottery.

NOTE: I'm having ZERO luck with Blogger adding links to this post, so I give up. Instead, scroll down my sidebar and check out blogs and websites for Therese Fowler, Patricia Wood, and Kristy Kiernan.

Ladies, you rock! I hope the author highway continues being kind to you, and I also hope you're able to hang onto your identity along the way :)

Upcoming Events & Appearances to promote The Silver Compass

2008-02-06T08:51:00.000-08:00

The Silver Compass will be released April 1st and we've begun scheduling events and appearances. Check the sidebar on your right for a list of where and when. Oh, and Ohio readers? A reading has been set for Cleveland! Chicago & Winnipeg are also confirmed: see sidebar.

What would be your bliss?

2008-02-03T08:36:00.000-08:00

Two years ago, I went through a bad period with my back, a problem that revisits whenever I sit for long stretches of time writing. A friend suggested I try acupuncture & cupping, a toxin busting procedure where glass cups are heated and placed on your skin to suck out impurities & restore circulation.

I decided to give both a shot, a big decision for me because I have zero tolerance for pain. None. On any level.

The woman I went to couldn't speak English, and I was so scared I couldn't speak. Put these together and you'd think the results would be hit and miss. Not so. After three sessions, I felt better than I had in years.

My husband suggested I reward myself when I complete a novel, sort of like how novelist Paul Sheldon in the movie Misery has one cigarette and a glass of champagne each time he finishes a book. I've decided he's right, and if you're a writer, I think you should do the same thing. Finish a novel, get a spoil day.

What would be your bliss? I'm gonna hunt down the Chinese lady who stuck pins in my back and see if she remembers the trembling customer she took care of two years ago!

And January's contest winner is...

2008-01-31T10:00:00.001-08:00

I'm not sure if this is even close to what she looks like, but I'm hoping this is how our monthly contest winner reacts when she finds out she just won a jazzy little silver compass and a copy of my upcoming novel.

Congratulations and have fun reading Nadine Lavolie from Halifax, Nova Scotia. Your package will be mailed out to you as soon as I receive early copies of the book in mid-March.

Blog day for author Patry Francis

2008-01-29T09:07:00.001-08:00

I often complain (in a half-hearted way) about how hard it is to write and promote my work while juggling kids and a husband who's forever in another city on business, but I know how lucky I am. And I cannot imagine trying to do so while fighting cancer.

Author Patry Francis is doing exactly that, so over 300 bloggers, including bestsellers, Emmy winners, movie makers, publishing houses, etc., have come together today to give her debut novel, THE LIAR'S DIARY by Patry Francis all the attention it deserves.

The Liar's Diary is a novel about two women who couldn’t be more different. They form a friendship that will alter both their fates and their story shows just how far one woman will go to protect another. This novel signals the launch of a talented novelist who knows how to grab you by the throat and keep you guessing. Buy a copy, settle down in a big old chair, and get sucked into a page-turner you won't soon forget.