Paris is for Writers

I'll admit it. My resolve to remain a writer has, over the last year, been a little shaky. Difficulty selling a book, getting an agent and then some personal losses have all taken their toll. Feeling rung out, I started thinking that a job as a waitress might be more gratifying. At least there would be tips. And if a customer complains about their meatloaf it doesn't hurt near as much as when someone rejects your novel.

When a friend suggested we go to a writers' retreat in Paris, I jumped. Wow, Paris! I'd never been. And oh yeah there was the writing part too. I figured I could fudge that. Truthfully, by the time I arrived at the Hotel Saint Louis, I'd already resolved to give up writing all together. But to my surprise, my resolve splintered. After the mornings of writing in the Luxembourg gardens, after rich lunches in some of the same cafes where Hemingway drank his whisky and laid down his prose, after wandering around the grand boulevards and narrow alleys of Paris, my writer's soul woke up and I began writing again. Just as the Lost Generation - Hemingway, James Joyce, Fitzgerald - did, I also discovered the spell that Paris casts on writers.

Now I am home, with only photos and journal entries as reminders of my time away. But, at least for today, I am not thinking about filling out an application for Denny's. And that is a good thing.

What Book Changed You?

I was over at Nathan Bransford's blog (if you don't know it check it out, there's a link on this page) and Nathan asked his readers, What Book Changed You? I like reading these posts to see if there are any books that I might want to check out. Invariably on a post like this there are fledgling writers who post the name of their own WIP. At first I figured that these people are only trying to gain someone's attention, but then I thought that what book could impact a person's life more than the one that they themselves have written (or are attempting to write)?

Writing like reading (only more so I think) is a journey of self discovery. When I'm in the "zone", scenes, characters, dialogue, it all flies out of my fingers and onto the page in some odd and lovely subconscious way. Afterward, I may pause and see snippets of myself, my life and the people in my life and have an AHA! moment. This feeling of fleeting clarity, of how my life has come together in the way it has, always delights and satisfies me. It's better than therapy! A lot of times I don't see myself on the page so much as my readers do. Often they will ask about how I came up with a name for a character or a unique situation and I honestly can't answer them. But with a bit of self examination I take a closer look at what i have written and and it's like looking into a mirror. There I am!

So for anyone who dreams of being a writer, I would say forget about the fame and the wealth that drive you. Rather, why not view writing as lovely and mysterious exploratory journey where the ultimate treasure trove is YOU!

And P.S.: What books have changed you?

Jeremy Owl video

My publisher created a cool book trailer for Jeremy Owl. Check it out, along with Gregg Hinlicky's fabulous illustrations:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b3Ia8jz8KdM

Just Do It

The toughest time for me as a writer is the time between projects. It's during this period that I waffle, questioning myself continuously about what idea to explore next. Should I work on that screenplay I've had flickering through my imagination? How about that non-fiction picture book? Or maybe I should just stick with a YA novel since I've been published in that area and I should just build upon "my brand" as they say in the industry. The worst is when I start something and get about 50 pages into it and then abandon the story, turning my attention to the next, big, sexy idea that draws my attention away from the real muck raking that happens when you write. Because of this tendency, I now have about 5 novels in various states of disrepair. Some people have agents to help them make their choices. Since I don't, I have to rely on my own internal compass. This morning, however, I had a realization.

The thought occurred to me when I was standing on the new patio my husband and I had installed this summer. One year ago, that patio wasn't there. In it's place was a row of dead trees and bramble. In the five years we've lived in this house, I've hemmed and hawed over pulling out those trees and landscaping the backyard, turning it into something more liveable. It wasn't until last summer that I finally met with a landscaper and planned out the project. Because of the landscaper's schedule, the project was slow going. Crews of men showed up at the oddest times throughout the project, throwing my own summer schedule into a tizzy. Then there were the endless decisions that had to be made. Where do I put the planting beds? How should we arrange the sprinkler heads? And what plants should we choose that would benefit most from amount of sun we receive in the backyard? Being a city girl at heart, all those decisions really started to get on my nerves and I just wanted it DONE. But now it is done and I marvel at how well my patio furniture looks on the pretty rose colored pavers. But it's more that this. How cool is it that I was able to take a loose idea and create something concrete (no pun intended) from it. Of course you might argue that my landscaping project was nowhere near the amount of work it takes to write a book. But isn't it the same thing?

So just do it (sorry Nike)! Go out there. Create something. Anything. And see how it turns out. Don't worry about the end product. Follow your muse. You just might get a book or screenplay or a pretty, rose-colored patio out of it. If you don't try (and finish), you'll never know.

Bookfest 2010

One of the nicest things about being an author is getting to meet other authors. At Bookfest 2010 at the Ocean County Library in Toms River this weekend, I got to meet Ellen Jensen Abbott and Cyn Balog. It was a gorgeous, sunny day and the good folks at the OC library placed us under the Teen Zone tent. With pens in hand and, in Cyn's case, fortune cookies all ready, we were ready to meet lots and lots of teens. Be we all quickly discovered something. Teens are a little shy. But honestly guys, we love you and want to talk to you. After all, YOU are the reason we write. We want to share our stories with you and hear your stories too!

So here's a picture from Bookfest. We don't look that scary, do we? So the next time you see us, will you come on over and say hello? And I promise. While we may look like your mother, we don't bite. And we definitely won't tell you to go clean up your room!

Eat, Pray, Love

I read EPL when it first came out. Since I was in my mid-thirties at the time and wrestling with some of my own mid-life crisis issues, I related deeply to the book. In fact, during my own soul-searching period, I also traveled to Rome and sat on that same bench that Julia Roberts sat as she ate gelato. I related to Liz and her story so much that I found myself talking to her (well, more like stuttering) at a book signing one day in NJ. She was lovely and gracious and when she smiled at me, I felt truly bathed in her serenity. Unfortunately, I was too much of a groupie to articulate what her book truly meant to me.

Since that meeting, I went on with my life, had my own book published, and have found a bit of my own serenity. Other than taking a trip to Two Buttons (Liz and Felippe's store in French Town N.J.), and sitting next to her equally lovely sister at a writers conference, I haven't much thought of Liz or her book. That is until today when I saw the EPL movie starring Julia Roberts.
In my opinion, the movie did not do justice to all of the subtlety of the book or the gorgeous language that Liz Gilbert uses to paint her experiences in Italy, India and Bali. However, I must give the movie kudos for one thing. It did maintain the book's essential soul - yes, that pretty, luminous light that I saw emanating from Liz's eyes that day at the book signing. For this, I am grateful. For when all was said and done and Javier Bardem's gorgeous countenance faded to black, I felt satisfied knowing that Liz (via Julia Robert's portrayal of her) was changed for the better as a result of her journey. And that she, like me after reading the book, walked away with the courage to open herself up to life once more.

This is the power of story and why human beings need stories. Stories feed us and it is the writer's sacred role to nourish the soul of the reader. If I ever get the chance to meet Liz Gilbert again, I hope that I will take a moment to thank her for nourishing my soul with her story. Hopefully, I won't stutter this time around.

The Birthing of a New Book

As I await the publication of my new book, Jeremy Owl, I find myself reflecting on what I have learned about myself both as a writer and about the business of publishing a book. In Forrest Gump's words, "It's A Lot." But there is one primary thing and that is, above all else, HOLD ONTO YOU.

When I first started out writing (about 16 years ago), I used to think that if only I could write the perfect book, someone would read it, love it, and want to publish it. Of course the belief of "if you build it, they will come" sounds logical. But what I've learned about the craziness of the publishing business is that it is anything but logical. First off when I wrote my first book, it was (after several rejections), embraced by a publisher who claimed they "loved it". I, of course, was excited, but then the waiting game began. I waited to get my contract and when that finally arrived, I waited to get my revision letter. Then I waited for publication. All summed up, it was about three years by the time the book finally hit the stands. All that waiting created a lot of anxiety and feelings of general helplessness in me. While the book was mine, I didn't feel like I was part of the process.

But just like labor pains, when I finally did hold my book, the anxiety lifted. The reprieve, however was short lived. After my book was out, the real anxiety and the real waiting began. The second season of my waiting came as I tried to write the "next" book. Oh, there were next books - three to be exact. I poured my heart into them and tore my hair out because of them. I submitted, got rejected and waited and waited. There were some dark times when I didn't think my words would ever see the light of day ever again. I thought that the stories I cared about so much would be resigned to the file cabinet in my office (which is beyond stuffed now and really needs a twin). Then one day, I got the call that someone wanted to publish Jeremy Owl. It seems that very, very soon, I will have another baby to coddle and show off to the world

The thing is I like to learn from the past so I asked myself, "Who will I be with this next book?" My answer is this: When Jeremy Owl comes out, I want to be the same kind of mother to it that I was with Banyan. I will give it my time and my patience and introduce it to the world as my new child, one they may want to get to know. This time, however, I have decided that I will not lose myself in this new child. What I mean by this is that I will not get hung up on my book and take its success or lack of success personally. While I brought this book out into the world, it will have a life of its own and go out and do what it is meant to do. If that means, Jeremy Owl will go out and win awards for how "smart" it is, then so be it. But if Jeremy Owl's destiny is to fall flat on his butt, then so be that as well.

My intention is not to be defensive. If anything, I am trying to be ego-less by acknowledging that, in this crazy business, I have no control over results. This viewpoint is quite freeing and by letting go of what I can't control, I see what it is that is within my grasp. And that is the story. Whether I show up to the page and do my work is all that I can do. Truthfully, it's all I ever wanted to do. The rest of it is fate.

And I believe in fate. Otherwise, I would not be a dreamer, which is just another word for writer, after all.