Caroline Leavitt's Blog, page 61

Lily King's Kirkus Prize-winning novel EUPHORIA is out in Paperback! Revisit her interview, come see her on tour and read her favorite question from book tour (so far)!

 In honor of Lily King's book, Euphoria, coming out in paperback and Lily going on tour, I am replaying her last interview with me here--and posting her tour schedule, her favorite quote from book tour and the reads she is raving about.


Lily King is the kind of writer other writers rhapsodize over. Fiercely smart, and deeply emotional, she's a keen observer of how people struggle to live their lives--and, of course, there is her glorious prose.  Lily’s first novel, The Pleasing Hour (1999) won the Barnes and Noble Discover Award and was a New York Times Notable Book and an alternate for the PEN/Hemingway Award. Her second, The English Teacher, was a Publishers Weekly Top Ten Book of the Year, a Chicago Tribune Best Book of the Year, and the winner of the Maine Fiction Award. Her third novel, Father of the Rain (2010), was a New York Times Editors Choice, a Publishers Weekly Best Novel of the Year and winner of both the New England Book Award for Fiction and the Maine Fiction Award.  Lily's new novel, Euphoria,  is an Amazon Book of the Month, on the Indie Next List, and hitting numerous summer reading lists from The Boston Globe to O Magazine and USA Today. Reviewed on the cover of The New York Times Book Review, Emily Eakin called Euphoria, “a taut, witty, fiercely intelligent tale of competing egos and desires in a landscape of exotic menace.” The novel is being translated into numerous different languages and a feature film is underway.


Lily, thank you, thank you so much for being here.

I’m fascinated that your novel was inspired by Margaret Mead (A video on her in the Natural History Museum actually transfixed my son when he was a baby, so I have a special fondness foe for her.)  What is about anthropologists that caught you? And about Mead’s life in particular? And how and why did you change the facts of her life to craft your novel?

I stumbled on this biography of Mead about nine years ago. I wasn't looking to write anything about her or anthropology. In fact I was just starting my third novel, Father of the Rain, so I wasn't even looking for an idea. But I started reading this biography and I got to the part when she was 31 and doing field work in what was the called the Territory of New Guinea with her second husband in 1933 and they meet this other English anthropologist, Gregory Bateson, and have this crazy five month love triangle in the jungle and I thought that would make a good novel. It was sort of an idle thought, not a real thought. I didn't think I'd actually write that novel. I thought the idea would go away. But it didn't. So I started reading more about and by Mead and Bateson and more ideas started coming, though I didn't actually commit to writing the novel for five years, after I'd finished Father of the Rain. I thought I was going to stay true to the facts of her life as best I could, but the minute I started writing scenes and dialogue my characters separated from their real-life inspirations and I couldn't really control them anymore.

What was the research like for this novel? What startled you about it?  Was there anything you learned that turned what you thought you were going to write into something else entirely?

The research took years, though I did it intermittently as I wrote the third novel. It was hard to know when to stop, hard to make that transition from research to writing. I think the most startling thing was when I did start to write and I quickly realized it wasn't my character Nell's story. I thought she would narrate it, and she did for a while, until I shifted the point-of-view for one short chapter to Bankson's, and just felt him in a different way, so much more intimately, and I understood that it all had to be told in his voice. And that changed everything.

So much of this astonishing novel is about obsessions--for work and for love. Do you think obsessions can save us as well as destroy us? Which leads me to my next question--what’s obsessing you now?

The word obsession has unhealthiness built in, doesn't it? Everything else falls away, and perspective and relativity are lost. That very much happens to the characters in Euphoria. I'm sure there have been situations where obsessions save people, but I do think the real kind of obsession tends to destroy more often than not. Right now I am slightly, but not yet destructively, obsessed with a particular kind of potato doughnut in Portland, Maine called the "old fashioned" which you get at the Holy Donut on Exchange Street. Also this summer my husband, kids, neighbors and I have been playing way way too much of card game called Nerts.

There is also an equally fascinating thread about how we should (or shouldn’t) study other cultures, and if it is possible without disturbing those cultures in some way. Can you talk about this, please?

In 1933 Anthropology as a discipline taught at universities was still a young science, only a few decades old. Modern Western Anthropology grew out of colonialism and the contact the dominant powers made with indigenous populations. These populations were then studied, occasionally out of curiosity, but more frequently out of desire to subjugate. The way anthropologists in the early part of the twentieth century spoke of their "people"  and their "village" using possessive pronouns and picking out a shoot boy and cook boy and house boy, was inherently colonialistic. My characters are still very much a part of this tradition, and yet Bankson of three is more aware of it, less comfortable with it, and much more cognizant that his presence is altering what he is observing. He is aware that his whiteness changes the way the people in the tribe he is studying behave.

What’s your writing life like? Do you plan things out or just see what happens?

 I write only when my kids are at school. I don't work weekends or evenings, except when I'm about to hand in a draft to my agent or editor. Then I go up to the attic and don't come out, or I rent a cabin somewhere and work straight for several days.

 When I start a book I have a few characters in my head, an initial situation they're in, and a sense of the emotional journey I want to take them on. I often know where I want the characters to end up emotionally, but I never know until I get there what exactly will happen to get them there. I take notes along the way, in the back of the spiral notebooks I write in, and then when they notes get unruly, I make a little timeline of moments I write towards. Not chapters or even full scenes, just little moments that help me know where to go next. I love the part when I type into the computer the chapters in my notebook. That's when I do my best editing. That's when I can hear it in a different way. It's a complete rewrite because I am re-writing every single word, not cutting or pasting or tinkering but fully re-writing. 

What question didn’t I ask that I should have?

When I had my first reading of the tour in New York in June, my agent Julie Barer asked, "What was a high point and a low point of writing the book?" I think I said then, because the whole process of writing it was still so close to me, that there were no highs. I couldn't think of one! But the truth is that day when I wrote that short chapter in Bankson's point of view and was so stunned by the way it came out and how it changed everything about the book, that was a high. And then the rest of the time I felt the whole thing was impossible and terrifying. 


 
Paperback Book Tour Dates -- (ME, MI, NY, MA, TN) May 13, 2015, 12pm - Portland, ME  Portland Public Library (This is the PPL Brown Bag tomorrow at noontime!) May 18, 2015, 12pm - Detroit, MI  Book & Author Society May 18, 2015, 7pm - Ann Arbor, MI  Nicola’s Books May 19, 2015, 7pm - New York, NY  Barnes & Noble May 21, 2015, 7pm - Bath, ME  The Mustard Seed Bookstore May 31, 2015, 4pm - Cohasset, MA  Paul Pratt Memorial Library June 04, 2015, 9am - Harwich Port, MA   Wychmere Beach Club. June 06, 2015, 11am - Damariscotta, ME  Maine Coast Book Shop June 17, 2015, 6:30pm - Nashville, TN  Parnassus Bookstore June 28, 2015, 3pm - Wayne, ME  Cary Memorial Library July 8-16, 2015 - Holland/Germany (TBA) July 21, 2015, 5pm - Tenants Harbor, ME  St. George Summer Literary Series July 22, 2015, 7pm - Bar Harbor, ME  Jesup Memorial Library July 30, 2015, 7:30pm - Biddeford Pool, ME   Union Church (see my website lilykingbooks.com for more details.)
My favorite question on book tour so far (from a man at a luncheon in Las Vegas):  "Why did it take him so long to have sex with her?" 
What I've recently read and loved: Family Life by Akhil Sharma Dept. of Speculation by Jenny Offill Love and Other Ways of Dying by Mike Paterniti H is for Hawk by Helen MacDonald Clever Girl by Tessa Hadley

Ellis Avery talks about her searing new single read, The Sapphire and The Tooth, grief, writing, more

The absolutely wonderful Ellis Avery  has won two Stonewall Book Awards, one in 2008 for her debut novel, The Teahouse Fire, and another in 2013 for her second novel, The Last Nude. The Teahouse Fire also won a Lambda Literary Award and an Ohioana Library Fiction Award. I'm so delighted to host her here to talk about her Kindle single, The Sapphire and the Tooth, the first in a series of essays on grief, illness and food--all under the umbrella title, The Family Tooth.

My blog is always your blog, Ellis.

A jeweler with a law degree, for decades Elaine Solari Atwood fought crippling arthritis with hard liquor, until she died of a brain aneurysm at sixty-eight, leaving two daughters in their thirties and a lifetime's worth of unfinished business. Forced as a child to play nanny to five siblings, she grew up to become a mother who loved her girls as tenderly as her stifled pain and anger allowed. In THE SAPPHIRE AND THE TOOTH, I tell the story of selling my mother's jewelry in New York's Diamond District, and offer a searing portrait of alcoholism and difficult love.

Right after college, I lived in San Francisco’s Mission District, where I first encountered the Mexican Day of the Dead.  I was moved by intimacy and earthiness with which participants mourned and celebrated their dead family members, constructing altars decked out with tequila and cigarettes, bread and chocolate—all the comforts the deceased might crave in the hereafter.

After my mother died, I found myself constructing a similar altar.  I took comfort in setting a glass of chilled vodka in front of her photograph, and next to it, the diamond ring she was wearing when she died.

In that moment, as I set up her altar, my fingers slippery from the cold condensation on the crystal shot glass, buttery from the soft gold of the ring, a connection sizzled in my brain between the liquor and the gemstone, and not just because my mother had loved both.  The two objects together, as clear and sparkling as ice, brought to mind the word frozen.

Frozen: the diamond brought to mind the hundreds of human hours, from the mine to the gem cutter, trapped inside that stone, never to be retrieved.  Frozen: the vodka made me think of the way my mother’s alcoholism preserved her pain and anger for decades, whole and unchanged, both protecting her from ever really feeling them and preventing her from ever really letting them go.

I know I’m not the only woman to wish I’d loved my mother better, or to wish she’d left me better loved.  All I can do is tell as much of my truth as well as I can, and hope that doing so helps someone else feel a little less alone with theirs.  If Mother’s Day gives you a difficult pause—or a bittersweet one—this essay is for you. 

You can read THE SAPPHIRE AND THE TOOTH on Kindle here.

Other essays from THE FAMILY TOOTH are forthcoming from Kindle Singles, and a zine edition of the memoir is forthcoming from Ellis Avery later this year.  www.ellisavery.com 

Andrew Roe talks about his astonishing novel, The Miracle Girl, the desperate need to believe, havoc-wreaking gophers, writing and more

 I'm partial to Algonquin Books (my beloved publisher!) authors, and Andrew Roe's debut, The Miracle Girl, is eerie, haunting, unsettling, tragic and also full of hope. And I'm not the only one to think so because the praise is pouring in. I devoured this book in one sitting, and instantly reached out to Andrew, and I'm thrilled to host him here. Thank you, Andrew!

 What sparked this novel? I always believe there is a question that is haunting the author and the writing is the salve.

I love that phrase: “a question that is haunting the author and the writing is the salve.” I’m going to regularly quote that, if it’s OK with you. And I totally agree!

The question that haunted me for this book was the question of belief, the mystery of belief—and not just religious but also secular belief. As someone who’s not religious, I do appreciate how faith draws people in and serves as such a foundation for their lives, particularly when confronted with death, illness, life challenges, and so on. So I suppose there’s a bit of me going against that old writing chestnut of “Write what you know” and instead choosing to “Write what you don’t know.”

So much of this exquisite novel is about what we believe, what we want to believe, what we need to believe—and why.  Why do you think a miracle has so much power?

For me, the book has two types of miracles: the divine, otherworldly kind (which, of course, can never be proven), and the day-to-day, more commonplace kind (which can be verified). Both are powerful, but we might tend to not appreciate the daily miraculous nature in our lives—things like forgiving a parent or spouse, raising a child, or simply being fully present in our lives.

As for the divine kind, I think there’s a hunger, a thirst for these things to be true. But there’s never the certainty that people desire. Just a taste, perhaps. There’s a quote in the book, from a 17th-century English cleric named Jeremy Taylor, that comes to mind here: “A religion without mystery must be a religion without God.” And people may accept the mystery, but there will also always be a human need for verification, validation.

I loved the structure of the book, the way you focused on both the mother, the father, and the girl. Can you talk about why you wrote the novel this way?

Thanks so much for mentioning the structure, and I’m so glad it worked for you. It was definitely one of the book’s biggest challenges and something I spent a lot of time on.

From the beginning, I knew I wanted to have multiple points of view and many characters. When I started, I instinctively wrote chapters from the point of view of a particular character—not only the mother and father and girl (Anabelle) herself, but also the people who were drawn to the title character and found their way to her house for various reasons. I ended up consolidating those latter characters, the visitors, who were more secondary, into single chapters in parts 1 and 2 because there was too much time away from the mother, father, and Anabelle, who were the main characters. The tricky thing was to weave characters into chapters that were told from a different character’s point of view.

It’s interesting: I’ve received some nice feedback about the chapters that are from Anabelle’s point of view, and those chapters were a relatively late addition to the book. For a long time, I shied away from going there, but I’m so glad I eventually did. It gave the novel a weight it didn’t have before.

So, I have to ask, as a debut author who is suddenly smack in the middle of the limelight, does it feel the way you thought it would?  Does it make it easier or more terrifying to write your next novel?

Honestly, I didn’t really know how I’d feel. It’s something that I’ve been working toward for so long that I kind of purposefully avoided having any specific expectations. At various times along the way, I thought I might be overwhelmed or it might somehow be anti-climatic, given that I’m a 48-year-old debut author. Plus, I’m a pretty private person, so I also wondered if I’d feel vulnerable or exposed. Now that the book is out, however, I’ve mostly just been feeling grateful and thankful that people are taking the time to read the book, and that it’s finally finding its way into the world.

As for whether it will make the next novel easier or not—well, while waiting for The Miracle Girl to be published, I’ve already polished up and finished a short story collection and also have a good chunk of the new novel underway. It’s helpful, I think, to focus on the writing itself and trying to get better and not get too distracted or caught up in any limelight-ish stuff. I’ve been away from the new book for a while because of touring for The Miracle Girl and doing publicity and writing some essays. So we’ll see how it feels once I dive back in, hopefully later this month. But I’m guessing that writing a novel will always be terrifying to some degree, no matter how many you’ve written.

What’s obsessing you now and why?

Can I pick more than one? Guitars, because my son is getting into music and wants a guitar for his tenth birthday (I used to play guitar myself, in a previous life); anarchism and squatting in abandoned buildings, because of research I’m doing for the novel I’m currently writing; and gophers, because they’re wreaking havoc in my backyard.

What question didn’t I ask that I should have?

Boxers or briefs? But I’m not saying. (OK, boxers.)

Author, editor, coach Jordan Rosenfeld talks about A Writer's Guide to Persistence, writerly dark nights, Amy Schumer, drought, and why being a better person can make you a better writer

Jordan Rosenfeld is arguably one of the kindest people on the planet. She's the author of Night Oracle, Forged in Grace, Make a Scene, Write Free, and her newest book, A Writer's Guide to Persistence, a toolkit for writers that every scribbler needs to own. Her work has appeared in AlterNet, DAME, Mom.me, The New York Times, The Rumpus, The Washington Post, Writer's Digest magazine and more.I'm thrilled to have her here. Thank you, Jordan!

Why does a writer have to be persistent?

First, let me define persistence, because it's easy to equate it with "slogging" or something equally negative which has a negative connotation. My favorite definition of persistence, which I actually stumbled on after writing the book comes from Patch Adams, that famed real doctor played by Robin Williams in the movie of the same name, who could work miracles with his patients and has this gorgeous outlook on how we can serve one another better. He describes persistence as "Hanging in there, joyfully." What makes a writer able to be persistent, to hang in there when doubt, discouragement and rejection come to visit, is one's passion and love of the writing more than the need for praise, validation or fame. Or, as Brenda Ueland says in her lovely little book, If You Want to Write "The moment I read Van Gogh's letter I knew what art was, and the creative Impulse. It is a feeling of love and enthusiasm for something, and in a direct, simple, passionate and true way, you try to show this beauty in things to others." And a writer has to be persistent because all great things take time to manifest. Not only the literal work, but the person him or herself--we deepen, and thus the work deepens--the more we invest in it. Those things that come quickly and easily often have a cost, or don't last. No one wants to be a flash in the pan.

I want to talk about the Building Boundaries chapter, because so many writers feel if they are not published, they don’t have the right to tell people not to drop by, or to cancel dinners.

It comes down to this: we have to legitimize our writing to ourselves first, or no one will ever believe or respect us. The most serious writers just write and write and write. Every time I see someone post on Facebook that they will NOT be posting on Facebook for the foreseeable future to finish writing a book, I cheer for them. That is healthy boundary setting and a good reminder for the rest of us. It's really no different, however, than a mother remembering to take care of herself so she can be the best mother she is capable of--a writer has to find ways to make time to write, thus turning away friends and canceling dinners--if it matters to her. It's just non-negotiable in my book--to write, you have to shut out the world at times, and that means your loved ones, too, and hopefully they knew that going in when they met or married you ;-) Your children are just out of luck. What's more, writers who don't make time for their writing, in my experience, end up martyrs, or resentful, or cranky. If writing is your purpose, your joy, your gift or just a way to express yourself, then you'll start to feel badly when you don't do It. Pretty simple. Boundaries are just necessary.

You mention that criticism and doubts come with the territory--they do indeed. What’s the best way to deal with them?

I like to treat criticism as though it is all a stream of illegible nonsense spewed from a mean drunk--in the case of the critic, the criticism may stem from meanness, or a different aesthetic, or a need to sound important, or a difference of opinion, but it has less to do with me, and more to do with where the critic is. I also always say that truly good critique (I differentiate helpful critique from cutting criticism) has a spirit of improvement--it strives to help you make the work or your vision better. It seeks to understand what you are trying to do, and support that with insight. But also, a lot of writers don't give themselves necessary space between the making of the writing, which is fresh and vulnerable, and getting feedback, and thus even helpful critique can feel like negative criticism. You need to know your own level of tolerance, and how much room you need before you are ready to hear it. And a really good friend you can call up and moan to who will prop you back up and remind you that it's all going to be okay.

So much of this extraordinarily helpful book is about loving the journey, instead of focusing on the outcome, be it reviews or sales or fame, but rather, what you personally get out of it. I find that incredibly healthy and sustaining. Can you talk a bit about that, please?

I wrote Persistence, or rather, the seeds of it, at a very dark time in my own writing practice. I'd had two agents represent two novels that did not sell. Then I had a baby and lost momentum in my freelance writing life. I basically felt that my writing career as I knew it was over by the age of 34. In searching for inspiration, I recalled Rilke's words to Young Mr. Kappus in Letters to a Young Poet, which I first read at the age of 15, then again at 21, in which he advises him to go deep into his soul and ask the question "must I write?" I tweaked the question and asked: "Will I still write if no one is reading, if I'm only doing it for me?" And the answer was a resounding yes. And from that place came this rush of relief, that there was still something inside me that felt compelled to write even if no one was listening. So I started writing blog posts sort of cheering myself, and hopefully others, on through these writerly dark nights of the soul. And out of it came this book, which I eventually envisioned as a guidebook, as though for hikers on a rigorous trail, for the challenges of the writing craft.

Anne Lamott once said in a talk I heard (I'm paraphrasing) that we think success will fill our emptiness and assuage our sorrow and make us happy; instead, it just adds pressure to all those pre-existing issues and makes us more neurotic. Success is just a byproduct of your work and life--and there are lots of kinds of success. If you become overly reliant on praise or reviews or fame, then what happens to you when those things end or change as they are wont to do? So you have to create a writing practice, a foundation of meaning inside you that doesn't shift so easily.

I also really love the worksheets you provide. Are these things you have always done yourself? How did you come up with them? They really seem to be the best kind of cognitive therapy, where you prove to yourself the things you fear have no teeth, simply by facing fears and then facing the facts as you have them in the minute!

I am an optimist at heart--and optimists are born, I think, out of circumstances where all the other people around them are pessimists--I'm naturally wired to look on the bright side because not too many people in my life did. I was an only child, a latchkey kid--always writing and reading. I like to cheer people up, and I'm also married to a psychologist who is also a Buddhist--we talk a lot about people and the psyche and the ego, and being present, and a ton of other things about how the mind and heart work. So I think that intersection is the genesis for these ideas to try and shift people out of stuck places. I'm also a HUGE believer in adding in physical movement. I experienced something of a revolution when I started to exercise really for the first time at age 35.  And my mood completely changed and my focus became so much clearer. So I believe that half of the time we are stuck, the best thing we can do is move our bodies In some way.

What’s obsessing you now and why?

Good question. I've been spending a lot of time here in my drought stricken California thinking about our human tendency toward convenience, disposables, instant gratification, and how this has led to such terrible impact on this gorgeous natural world we so take for granted, and how, if ever, we can change. I'm also obsessed with the intersection between belief and health--placebos and faith healing and mind's ability to heal body, and the way our emotions make us sick. Oh, and comedian/actor Amy Schumer who just sticks it to patriarchy, pop-culture, gun-culture, republicans, and more.



What question didn’t I ask that I should have?

You asked lovely questions, but If I may say one last important thing it would be that If more writers spent time focusing on what makes them genuinely passionate, ecstatic, purposeful, better human beings, I suspect that a lot more writers would find themselves producing work that does, in fact, lead to publication more quickly because authenticity and vibrancy are very attractive to others.

NPR's Scott Simon talks about Unforgettable: A Son, a Mother, and the Lessons of a Lifetime--and so much more

I don't remember when I first met Scott Simon but I do know it was on Twitter. I'm pretty sure he responded to a hopefully-witty tweet of mine, and then we began conversing online, which is pretty amazing to me considering he has 1.25 million fans.  He's totally hilarious, uncommonly smart, with a heart the size of Jupiter. 

One of America's most admired writers and broadcasters, he's also the award-winning host of Weekend Edition Saturday--hey, it has over 4 million listeners and is also the most listened to news program on NPR. He also hosts TV specials, does stories for CBS Sunday Morning and he's the author of the highly acclaimed nonfiction books Home and Away: Memoir of a Fan, Jackie Robinson and the Integration of Baseball, and Baby, We Were Meant for Each Other. But wait, there's more! He's also the author of the extraordinary novels Pretty Birds, and Windy City. His new book, Unforgettable: A Son, a Mother, and the Lessons of a Lifetime, shares his beloved mother's dying process in a way that's actually filled with wonder and with life. It became an instant New York Times bestseller, a Morning Joe Book Club pick, and it is still racking up the raves.

And deservedly so. 

I'm so thrilled to have Scott here. Thank you, Scott!

I know you were tweeting as all this was going on, and it had a profound impact on you. Did it change the way you saw social media--and see it now? Were you surprised by how many people your tweets touched?

Yes I was surprised, and it did change the way I see social media. I had always known that my mother was funny, charming, and wise. But to see so many others come to realize that about my mother, in real time, was extraordinary.

At the same time, though, social media has been growing and changing since my mother died in July, 2013. The tweets about my mother demonstrated to some that social media is as serious or frivolous as we choose to make it (and I do a little of both).

The pope (and I like this one a lot, by the way) reaches more people on Twitter, in a way, than he does in his appearances at St. Peter’s. A number of people who have declared their candidacies for president recently have used Twitter to do so. Even as the number of cat photos and fart jokes have also expanded. 

I’ve now come to see social media platforms as our papyrus scrolls. It’s where a lot of people record scraps of their lives for others to read, ignore, respond to—or ignore and react to later (as Trevor Noah, the young comic chosen to succeed Jon Stewart at The Daily Show, has so recently discovered).

How did writing the book change you? What did you learn in writing it, about both yourself and your mother, that surprised you?

Writing the book confirmed for me why I became a writer; how, in a way, it just fulfilled me as the kid who always put out the class newspaper. I don’t keep things to myself (well, some things I do, but not many). There’s a good reason why I didn’t go into espionage work. It’s just in my nature to try to fathom my experience and share it with others, be it the war in Bosnia, an interview with Bill Cosby, or my mother’s death.

In our last days together, my mother did surprise me by confiding a conclusion she’d reached a long time ago: that my father, who was a serious alcoholic, more or less willed himself to die when I was sixteen because he couldn’t stop drinking and realized he would drag us down with him. “It was the last gift he could give us,” is how my mother put it.

My mother didn’t want me to grow up with that thought pressing on my mind. I’d blame myself for not helping my father more (which, by the way, no one can do for a real problem drinker, especially not a truculent teenager). I’d wonder if I should have done something. So she waited until she felt I could understand and accept my father’s death as a gift to tell me. 

I also felt that your relationship with your mother was a blueprint for parents. She opened you up to the world, to art, and was so unconditionally loving, often in a non-traditional way.  Do you find yourself raising your daughters with her in mind?

Oh yes. Especially now, when she’s not around to encourage my wife and I to do that. But her presence, in a way, becomes more powerful in death. We see her lessons as nuggets of imperishable wisdom. We do what we can to drag our daughters through all kinds of places and experiences to let them know that—what was Auntie Mame’s phrase?—life’s a buffet and some poor bastards are starving to death. Our daughters, gosh knows, may often doubt my sanity. But not my love. 

To me, the book is really all about how life--and death--are really all about love.  Can you comment on that?

It boils down to this: love is all that endures. I’ve learned, too: you can take it with you. My mother sure did.

I was really interested in your descriptions of the hospital system. It was impossible to get in touch with your mother's pulmonologist, for example, when just her simple appearance would have soothed your mother immeasurably. Yet, the nurses should have been awarded guardian angel status. Can you talk a little more about that please?

The nurses were ever-present, kind, considerate, and wise. That seems to be who they are. But the doctors, near as I could tell, just look at laptops, enter keystrokes (and, in the case of the pulmonologist, send bills for “consultations” they make without seeing the patient). Medical care has become cold, remote, and data driven; maybe we’ve forced it to be that way, too, with so many demands. Our veterinarian is more attentive to our cat that my mother’s doctors were to her, or, presumably, any of their patients. I’m not sure why some of them have become doctors if they spend most of their time looking at screens, not people.

I've often asked you silly questions like this upcoming one, but now that I feel I know your mother through these pages, I want to know how do you think she would have answered this:  If you had to choose, would you rather be trapped in a room with a coconut crab (they are the size of really large dogs and they do eat dogs, as a matter of fact) or a giant squid?

Oh, a squid for sure. My mother loved dogs too much to be trapped with a coconut crab. But out of curiosity, how do they find a dog to eat? In the Great Barrier Reef? It seems to me that however giant a giant squid might be, they are soon rendered powerless on dry land. In which case, I think my mother would choose a giant squid and a tub of marinara sauce.

What's obsessing you now and why?

It’s got nothing to do with my mother but: the increasing use of drone warfare. War was destructive enough. But drone warfare offers the dotty illusion that damage can be inflicted on an enemy without cost or risk. I think it may be reaping a dangerous whirlwind.

Jane Ciabattari talks about her new audiobook, California Tales, being bicoastal, writing--and you could win one of her books!

Jane Ciabattari does more to champion books and writers than just about anyone I know, so I am thrilled to host her here. She writes the Between The Lines Column for BBC.com, is the Vice President of the National Book Critics Circle online, and is the author of two highly acclaimed short story collections, Stealing the Fire, which at 1.99 is less than your morning latte (and more delicious), and California Tales, which is now an audio book from Audible and Sound Cloud. The first three people to comment get a freebie!

Jane's been a guest on my blog before, and you can read more about California Tales

 You seem to be the quintessential New Yorker, so why a series of stories about California?

I’ve been a bicoastal person for years. Despite my long association with the Upper West Side and Sag Harbor, I’ve spent a lot of time in California. I studied creative writing at Stanford and at San Francisco State (for graduate school). I was a Sunday magazine editor in San Francisco, where some of the authors I worked with included the legendaries of the Beat generation (Michael McClure among them) and others just beginning their careers (including Amy Hempel and Mona Simpson). In the past few years I’ve spent a lot of time in Sonoma County, become a member of the San Francisco Writers Grotto, and cofounded the [Flash Fiction Collective] reading series at Alley Cat Books in the Mission, with Grant Faulkner and Meg Pokrass. I’m in New York when I need to be—for National Book Critics Circle board meetings and events, Brooklyn Book Fair, all the rest—or connecting with literary buddies at AWP (it’s in LA next year), the Oakland Book Fair later this month, Litquake in the fall, and other places.  I’ll be cohosting the fifth annual National Book Critics Circle/Zyzzyva party this year in June in San Francisco, with Laura Cogan and Oscar Villalona. My avatar is always on the alert for live tweeting opportunities.

So many of these exquisite stories are about the dark side of the Sunny State--meth addiction, earthquakes, and alcoholics Do you ever think hat some of that bland good weather has something to do with that?

California has a notorious dark side—think Charles Manson, the assassination of Mayor Moscone and Harvey Milk, Jonestown. And yes, meth and all the rest. The natural world can be deceptive. I was in Los Angeles to attend the Golden Globes when the Northridge quake shook everyone awake and ripped apart freeways (that’s the background for my story “Aftershocks,” in California Tales). Napa had a 6.0 quake recently that broke the liquid crystal display on my MacBook Pro. And there’s a horrific drought ongoing. All of this sets up a curious tension. You can’t take anything for granted. A placid scene can be disrupted at any moment. Great, of course, for fiction.

What was it like writing these three stories? 

Two are set in Southern California--the valleys and clubs and desert of “Arabella Leaves,” about a young woman high on crystal meth whose life is about to be shattered for the second time, and, in “Aftershocks,” the Viper Room and nearby hills during and just after the biggest quake in years. The third is set in Silicon Valley, just before the dot.com collapse. Again, those peaks and valleys, sudden collapses.

Now that they are newly out on audiobooks, does listening to them feel different than "listening" to the written word to you? Y

es, surprisingly. If so, how? It was a surprise to hear an actress read. Her enunciation is great, of course. And there is an undertone to her voice that is complex, but also a bit cheerier than I visualize “Arabella Leaves” to be. It’s such a tragic story.

Do you feel that a short story is like a very intense relationship while a novel is more of a long marriage?

Short stories can be completed relatively quickly (I wrote “Wintering at Montauk” in one sitting) and then polished for months or years. Novels take years to write and revise. Years.  

Do you write and imagine stories differently than you do novels?

Yes. I can imagine a story in its entirety.  That’s much harder to do with a novel. I can carry a chapter in my mind. I can think about the overall effect of a novel. But hundreds of pages?  Dozens of chapters? Much harder to keep it all in my mind while also working on other deadlines. I need solitude and a place to put all my chapters around me for that. Something I get at writers colonies like the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts, and at the Grotto.

I always ask What's obsessing you now and why?

Finishing my novel, The Road to Eastville. It’s a complicated novel about a biracial family with a lot of research and quite a bit of history (including material on the underground railroad in the Midwest) layered in.  It may be impossible. But I’m determined.

And I always ask, What question didn't ask that I should have? 

Who are you reading now? I’ve just recommended the new Toni Morrison novel, Amelia Gray’s Gutshot, other story collections by Lauren Acampora, Edna O’Brien, first novels by Heidi Pitlor and Jabari Asim, new novels from Mary Morris and Ann Packer, and Leaving Orbit, a Graywolf nonfiction award winner by Margaret Lazarus Dean, as books to read in my BBC.com books column.

Sonia Pilcer talks about The Last Hotel, NYC in the 70s, writing, and so much more

 "The Last Hotel is a 20th Century ark filled with survivors of history and gentrification. Sonia Pilcer brings them all vividly to life with gentle wit and a generous heart." - Hilma Wolitzer






 One of my favorite things to do is remember New York City in its gritty heyday, when you could get a shoebox apartment for $500 a month, when the Pyramid Club and Danceteria were always your nightly destination. And one of my favorite people to talk about those times with is Sonia Pilcer. Sonia's first novel, Teen Angel, was bought by Universal Studios and she wrote the screenplay with Garry Marshal. She's also the author of Maiden Rites, Little Darlings and I-Land: Manhattan Monologues. 
The Last Hotel perfectly captures Manhattan in the 70s, as well as being a page-turning literary novel. I'm delighted to have Sonia here, and I bet we crossed paths at Danceteria!
I always want to know what sparks a book? What question was haunting you that propelled you into this particular story?
I consider myself  a nearly native New Yorker. I was born in a Displaced Persons camp in Germany, child of Holocaust survivors, and we arrived at the St. Mark's Place Hotel when I was a year and a half.  In recent years, I felt as if my city was becoming unrecognizable.  The subways, clean and safe, as were the parks, even Times Square turned wholesome.  Where was the squalor? The sense of risk and excitement?  When I used to leave my house, I never knew what would happen, who I might meet.  Now I was surrounded by haute bourgeoisie, their children, their pricey bars and eateries.  Where were the street people, not necessarily homeless, who hung out, played music, told stories, asked for some change? As I thought about it, I realized that young people coming here had no idea of the splendid decrepitude and pre-poop-scooped streets of Manhattan. I wanted to preserve the fly in amber.  Or was it a cockroach? New York City, 1979.
What was it like to revisit the 70s?
Ah, the 70s.  Isn't there an expression that if you remember the 60s, you probably weren't there? 70s was a hedonistic flush.  Caroline, you mentioned the Pyramid and Danceteria.  I'll add the Limelight, Max's Kansas City, and CBGBs.  It was the ultimate party before Reagan, before AIDS.  And we were so young and full of promise.  A fearsome thing.
Do you miss that grittier NYC? To me, there has been a serious trade-off for a safe NYC, with artists and writers being pushed out, and the wealthy moving in. Can yo talk about this?
I know it's much more civilized now.  No muggings.  If we own anything, which I don't, its value has risen.  But I miss the sense of a struggling, not completely broke, middle class, working class atmosphere.  Many of my friends were artists, writers, filmmakers -- the aspiring population, who went to screenings, openings and the Gotham Book Mart.  We could sit in a bar on Columbus Avenue for hours, nursing one beer or a glass of red wine. The talk went on for hours.  Foreigners love New York City in the movies.  So colorful, covered with graffiti.  But this is a nostalgic view.  Follow the dollar.  The city now belongs to the money like so many other things.  THE LAST HOTEL is a kind of last stand against the wave of change, saying, "Hey, this is really what it was like. And it was cool."
I also LOVE the title: a Novel in Suites. How did you go about structuring the novel and what was that like?
Well, there's the play on words.  Musical suite, but mine refers to the suites of THE LAST HOTEL.  Every chapter takes place in a different suite, which is how we get to know the characters and their visitors.  As you can imagine, the ordering of the suites was a major undertaking.
I enjoy challenging myself with different structures.  I-LAND: MANHATTAN MONOLOGUES is told entirely through monologues, all taking place on one day.  THE LAST HOTEL is what one of the characters calls "a vertical shtetl."  A hotel is a great way to throw characters together.  Besides my father managed such a hotel and I always wondered what happened upstairs.
What kind of writer are you? What’s your daily writing life like?
I started out as a poet so for me, it begins with language.  A word.  A phrase.  A person's name.  The idea of this beautiful old structure gone to disrepair, but still possessing "good bones and solid brass fixtures" made me want to fill it with stories.
And then these people started arriving.  I have no idea where they came from.  Well, actually, a few came from previous books.  The manager, Saul, is based on my father.  They seemed to want to rent a suite at the hotel and they wouldn't stop talking. 
Dialogue, what people say and don't say, how they say it -- drives my work.  I feel as if i'm often racing to capture some great, outrageous thing a character says.  That's why I like to write for theater too.
What’s obsessing you now and why?
The great Colette said, "You have to get old.  Don't cry, don't clasp your hands in prayer..."  All of my novels have been coming of age stories.  This is another coming of age. Actually, aging.  I want to create older characters who are sexy, alive, which I've tried to do in LH.  I think of those older European actresses, lined and glorious, mysterious in their enduring appeal.
What question didn’t I ask that I should have?
I wonder how you respond to the Yiddishkeit. Though I don't speak Yiddish well, for this book, for these characters, I felt I had to introduce its wonderful expressions.  Did you know a knish is a vagina in Yiddish?  I use it as a pungent spice in my writing.  I love the sound of Yiddish, so vulgar sometimes, yet so unerringly frank.  As a result, we decided to include a Yiddish glossary at the end of the book.

Christine Sneed talks about Paris, He Said, writing seven drafts, Prince, and so much more

I was first knocked out by Christine Sneed's work when I read Little Known Facts (and I wasn't the only one. It won the Society of Midland Authors Award for best adult fiction in 2013, and was named one of Booklist's top ten debut novels.) Along with being named a finalist for the 2010 Los Angeles Times book prize in the first-fiction category, her first book, Portraits of a Few of the People I've Made Cry won AWP's 2009 Grace Paley Prize, was awarded Ploughshares'  John C. Zacharis prize, and was chosen as Book of the Year by the Chicago Writers Association. Christine has published stories in Best American Short Stories, New England Review, Glimmer Train, and many other notable publications.  Christine's luminous new novel, Paris, He Said, is about a woman who moves to Paris with a man who promises to support her so she can do her art. About desire, creativity, and finding out what really happens when you get what you think you want, it's a literary page-turner. I'm thrilled to have Christine here. Thank you, Christine!


Every novel has a moment of origin, which I always find fascinating. What sparked the writing of this particular book? 
When I was trying to begin a new novel after finishing my second book, Little Known Facts, I had several false starts and finally paused to think at length about the subjects continue to be of interest to me, and I realized that my interest in French culture and art and in romantic relationships would be good places to start.  From there, I came up with Jayne and Laurent, and eventually, Susan Kraut, who is a real person; she’s a painter and painting instructor at the School of the Art Institute and was a very generous subject for me as I was writing Paris, He Said.  She let me visit her study and ask her questions about her art-making process.  [Tangentially, I first met Susan when I worked for five years at the School of the Art Institute after graduate school.  An ex-boyfriend of mine was a student there and we lived together for five years; I witnessed his messy and inspiring creative process during those years (often wishing he were a more fastidious housekeeper but knowing he probably never would be.)  And in college, I was a French major.] 
Paris is such a character in itself--I bet the research was a great deal of fun, no? I realize you were once a student there, but did you return? Did anything surprise you in the way your characters relate to Paris--and the way Paris relates to them?
It was a lot of fun to write about Paris and to do the research for this novel.  I’ve been to Paris about a dozen times since 1991, the year I was a student in France (I studied in Strasbourg but took five or six trips to Paris during that year.)  I made two trips to Paris, both during the first week in September in 2013 and 2014, while writing this novel.  Even though I knew how beautiful a city it was, I hadn’t been there for a number of years before my 2013 trip, and I think it startled me just how beautiful it is. 
My main characters, Jayne and Laurent, don’t take their privileged lives for granted in Paris, though Jayne does find herself getting habituated to the city’s many marvels and awe-inspiring beauty after a few months.  Laurent is from a village outside of Dijon, which is several hours southeast of Paris, and he has always thought of Paris as a city of wonders, and I wanted that marvelousness to come through on every page, if possible.  He is a devout pleasure-seeker, Jayne less so.  And it was this disparity in temperament where I tried to make the conflict was most palpable between them.
What was so fascinating about your novel is the way you explore how people navigate what they think they want, and how they discover what they really need, instead. Could you comment on this please?
I don’t think we often truly know what we want.  We believe that we want something, but then we get it and it’s not what we hoped for.  There’s certainly some of this conflict in Jayne, though she’s aware before she moves from New York to Paris that there is no ideal situation (or ideal man.)  And she also knows that what a person sees from the outside of a relationship is almost always different from what the person on the inside sees.  Her privileges in Paris come with costs, that’s for sure. 
I also loved the way you seemed to pull of layer upon layer in your characters. As they discover themselves, so do we. Can you talk about your writing process for this particular novel? Did it differ from your prior novel in the ease of the writing?
This was the hardest novel of the several I’ve written to write (most of these novels are unpublished and sitting in a drawer.)  My previous book (and first published novel) Little Known Facts came out quickly and more or less joyfully.  I’d never had an experience like it before those months in 2011 when I was writing LKF.
I wrote six or seven drafts of Paris, He Said before my editor at Bloomsbury signed off on it.  She worked very hard on this book too; she had a lot of good advice to give and I followed a lot of it.  By the end of last year, I looked like a zombie. I was teaching full-time while working on this book, and trying to pay attention to my partner Adam, my other friends and family, and exercise and eat properly.  I don’t know if I’d ever felt more worn out in my life.  I also wasn’t sure what I thought about the novel until I had several months away from it.  I like it, dieu merci.  For a long while after we finished the copy-editing, I didn’t want to look at one word of it.
What’s obsessing you now and why? 
Hmmm…well, my future.  I hope Bloomsbury will continue to publish my work.  I hope readers will find it and like it.  And I hope that one day, I will catch up on emailing and house-cleaning.
I also worry about our country’s, our planet’s future – I hope that people will be kinder to each other and to the earth.  Our collective future depends on it.   
What questions didn’t I ask that I should have?
Who is your favorite ‘80s rock star?
Oh, Prince, for sure.  But Rick Springfield is a close second.  And Madonna is a close third. 

Sarah McCoy talks about The Mapmaker's Children, shillyshallying obsessions and what to wear for our Bookcourt event!

I can't remember when I met Sarah, but perhaps that's because I feel as if we've always known each other, that we were troublemakers in kindergarten together, that we both bought our first grownup dresses in junior high, that we celebrated each other's first published novel. But it didn't happen that way. Needless to say, Sarah is one of my favorite people and writers on the planet, and I keep trying to convince her to move next door. The Mapmakers Children, like all of Sarah's book, is literate, moving, and is also an unforgettable piece of history.  I'm so honored to host her here!  Thank you, Sarah!

Get a preview of coming attractions:  Sarah and I goof around on YouTube to promote my interviewing her at BookCourt in Brooklyn on May 11th! You know you want to come!




I always want to know what sparks a particular book.  What’s the question this book is asking that has been haunting you? What was it about the Underground Railroad that fascinated you so?

The ‘spark’ for each of my novels has come to me differently. Author friends tell me how they are consistently inspired through one particular medium: a visual image, historical character, political agenda, emotional struggle, color, food, etc. I can’t say that I have one. I guess my Mz. Inspiration likes to throw her bolts in various forms. I’ve never had a story come to me in the same way. The Mapmaker’s Children began with a sentence being spoken…

“A dog is not a child,” the woman, Eden Anderson, kept saying. And it was the way she said it that wouldn’t let me be. Confident, irked, and yet, deeply wounded by the very words she spoke. I couldn’t shush her no matter what I did. Months of hearing this over and over in my head—it could drive a woman batty (if you didn’t think I was already)!

So in an effort to cure my insomnia from this parrot haunting, I wrote the sentence and its corresponding scene in the journal. I realized then that the sentence was echoing through and out the front door of an old house—the house in New Charlestown calling me to solve its Underground Railroad secret. A mystery set between Eden in present-day West Virginia and Sarah Brown 150 years ago.

To be honest, before then, I was familiar with the Abolitionist Movement by virtue of being a history nerd. The Underground Railroad was a fascinating component, but it wasn’t until Eden and Sarah’s home called me that I became completely absorbed in it. Now, I feel like I see UGRR codes everywhere I turn. It makes the everyday world a terribly exciting place.

One of the elements that I so loved in The Mapmaker’s Daughter is the whole notion of how art can save us, how it can be a political force, and how it truly can change lives. Can you talk about this please?

It’s funny because, as I mentioned earlier, political agendas haven’t sparked my stories. But somehow, they’re always present. I wholeheartedly agree with you, Caroline. Art is one of the most powerful political forces in humanity. I think that’s the case because it usually originates from a nonpartisan place of expression—and yet! It conveys our most true selves, our beliefs, our passions, our deepest fears and greatest hopes. At its foundation, politics is comprised of people expressing their hearts and minds then taking action. From soldiers protecting the nation to secret movements to free the enslaved, faces may change through time but the core remains the same, the function of art remains the same. It’s this meta-entity that breathes through time and space, catalyzing all in its path, from the individual to the masses, and forever changing the topography of history.

This is part of why I felt compelled (to a compulsive degree) to tell Sarah Brown’s story. She wasn’t just one of John Brown’s children. She was an artist! She saved lives; she helped forge a new path for America; she created instruments of world change. Sure, she may not stand in the annals alongside Abraham Lincoln, Frederick Douglass or Ulysses S. Grant, but her role was no less noble, no less affective, no less worthy of being remembered 150 years in the future.

It only takes one look at her art and you see the talent and the hunger to reveal her secret thoughts and feelings. In her drawings of her parents: the meticulous detail given to each wrinkle of the brow and curve of hair reveals how much she loved them. In her “Peaches” painting: the blush of the fruit and bounty of the basket whisper of her cravings and her appreciation for the sensual beauty of nature. It’s all right there. Like every good artist, including writers, there are at least three different messages in each line—of words or pigment. Layers for the viewer to decrypt.

There are two story lines in your novel, one in the past and one in the present. How difficult was it to structure the novel this way?

As I novelist, I consider myself a perpetual student of the craft. I’m sure you’ve experienced the same phenomenon with all your wonderful books, Caroline. I learn so much with each story. From the research and creative process to the editing and revising, writing a novel is like a master class in narrative invention. I come away knowing so much more than I did from the start—so many nuanced techniques and lessons that I didn’t yet know or have a full grasp of utilizing.

Writing two story lines in a historical-contemporary hybrid form seems to be my organic way of processing whatever fictional worlds I’m working in. History seen through this kind of Alice in Wonderland looking-glass filter of the present. I wrote that way for The Baker’s Daughter and now again in The Mapmaker’s Children. I’m fascinated by how the people of the past can reach across generations and impact the present; how mysteries of the present have their solutions in the past; how issues we face and decisions we make today are strikingly similar to ones our forbearers made—with good and bad outcomes. I’m riveted by this interplay.

That being said, it does not make for an easy write.

How did you do it? Do you wait for that pesky Muse to find her way to you? (She always gets lost with me.)
You know, I casually use the phrase “my Muse” and joke impishly about her fickle devotion. But truthfully, I don’t believe in any Greek deity coming down to clever me in the head with her story ax. That’s not to say I don’t believe in divine inspiration. Au contraire! But do I wait for Le Muse to do anything? Not a minute. She’s too busy fluffing her bouffant and shimmering sunshine on my desert roses. And I’m far too Type-A to rely on that kind of wandering productivity. I love what Ann Patchett said in an interview regarding writing: she compared it to her husband’s occupation as a doctor or any other job. My husband is a surgeon so I related. He can’t wake up and decide he’s just not in the mood to go into the operating room. Whether or not I ‘feel the writing mojo’ is inconsequential. The work remains.  Patchett put it perfectly, as she always does: “… if you work, you just work , and sooner or later, you’ll get through it.” So simple, so brilliant, so true. I adhere to that straightforward work ethic.

You’re known in the literary community as one of the kindest, most generous, most supportive souls on the planet.  With all that you do, how do you stay so grounded and why do you think a community among writers is so, so important?

Oh, stuff and nonsense. You, Caroline, hold the royal scepter for Queen of Generosity, and that’s an agreed upon fact in our business. I’m simply honored to be a lady in waiting in your court. Besides, it’s so much easier to be supportive of your fellow writers. Call me lazy perhaps, but I’d rather advocate for hard work and cheer for everyone’s successes.

Our writer community grounds me by virtue of its own achievements. I’m daily in awe of the stories my fellow authors create, their fortitude through personal struggles, their talents, and incredible hearts. I’m inspired and bolstered by true friendships like yours. I can’t think of a more significant reason than that.

What’s obsessing you now and why?



My obsessions shillyshally based on weather, calendar, my dog’s hiccups, and a thousand imagination whims on and off the page. So at this hour, I’m obsessed with tattoos. I have none. I don’t yearn to have one. But I’m completely fixated on the imagery people choose to forever “tatt” on their bodies. There’s a power there that both captivates and terrifies me. I’m drawn to yin-yang, good-evil, light-dark conflicts so here’s another, I guess.


What question didn’t I ask that I should have?

What are we going to wear to our Brooklyn event together on May 11? Boots are a crossover fashion must—chic in the 1860s and today! But I don’t think the 2015 New York gentry would approve of pajamas. Maybe if we serve wine and nibbles they won’t notice so much, eh?

Want to test-drive brilliant new wines in comfort or at a party? Kelly Bowen talks about her innovative new business, WineShop At Home.

For me, going to a wine store makes me want to reach for the Valium. There are so many choices, and half the time, I make the wrong one.  Or I stick with the wines I'm already familiar with, and then I realize I'm missing out on some fabulous new possibilities. 

Kelly Bowen is not only the genius publicity director at Algonquin Books (My publisher! One of my publicists!), but she's also started this innovative new wine business, WineShop At Home.

I'm thrilled to have Kelly here to talk about it--and I admit I have a glass of wine at my desk as I'm typing all this up! Thank you, Kelly!


What is Wineshop at Home and how does it work? And how can people get involved?

Wineshop at Home is a Napa Valley-based winery that offers its own exclusive, handcrafted limited production wines and in-home tastings with wine consultants. We take all the guesswork and stress out of the wine tasting for the host - the wine consultant leads the tasting, offering information about each wine and fun wine facts, making it a really enjoyable, low key evening for everyone. We want guests to have the freedom and comfort to try wines they’ve never experienced before, and also pair each wine with food to show how the wine changes.

This is a wonderful company for all types of wine lovers: people looking for limited edition, artisan wine not available anywhere else, someone looking to create their own wine label for a special occasion (such as corporate gifts or wedding party gifts) and wine lovers who want to host a tasting. And we’re looking for people who like wine and people, and would be interested in pouring wine and making a little extra money as a consultant!

I love your tag line (Come for the taste, stay for the lifestyle.) Can you talk about that please?

Our goal is simply to provide the best wine lifestyle experience in the world! If you’re like me, you dream about having simple elegant wine parties on the patio, or having your girlfriends over for an evening of conversation and wine, or maybe it’s simply a better appreciation and understanding of wine. We want to seduce you with delicious wine, and then keep you coming back because you love the easy yet sophisticated lifestyle that goes along with ordering our wine.

Your website is not only lots of fun, it’s interactive. I did the “Find Your Vinotype” which was shockingly accurate. How do you know what types like what kinds of wine?

I’m curious, Caroline, what’s your vinotype?? (Caroline: I'm a sensitive!) Every person is unique with different likes and dislikes, passions and values. And each person reacts and adapts to new experiences differently. All of those factors are incorporated into the “Find the Vinotype” quiz, which helps determine the range and intensity of sensations people experience and how they adapt to the environment, thus helping wine consultants understand their wine preferences.

For example, I’m a “sensitive” vinotype out of 4 types: sweet, hyper-sensitive, sensitive, and tolerant. The description is pretty darn accurate and in the wine world it means I’m on the less sensitive end of the spectrum and more open to a broad range of wines and foods. Basically, I’m an equal-opportunity wine drinker.

You’re a genius publicist for Algonquin Books, so I want to ask--is promoting wines and a wine club different than promoting books? Is anything surprising you about it?

Awww… you’re so sweet, thank you! Being a wine consultant actually fits perfectly with my skill set as a publicist. I plan events for a living, so coordinating in-home wine tastings is a natural fit. And I LOVE wine, so talking about wine with friends, family, and new clients is pretty similar to talking with the media, booksellers, and readers about new books we’re publishing. And to be honest, I’ve found that many avid readers are also avid wine lovers, so the two go hand in hand. Except now instead of bringing a bottle of wine to my book club conversations, we can have a fantastic wine tasting!

What’s the one mistake people make when choosing a wine?

I’ve been guilty of a bad habit that I think many others have of buying the same varietal all the time, like only selecting chardonnay or Cabernet sauvignon, rather than trying different types of wines. Our pallets change, our moods change, our eating habits change, so you might be missing out on a great type of wine that you’ve avoided in the past.

Also, not thinking about how wine pairs with food and selecting a wine from your wine rack that complements and accentuates the meal, rather than grabbing the first bottle you see.  

So tell us three great wines everyone should have in their house right now?

An excellent question! The most important thing for wine buyers to think about is everyday wines, weekend wines, and special occasion wines. The everyday wines are within the $12-16 price range, and add excitement to even the simplest of meals from Chinese takeout to mom’s favorite recipe. The weekend wines are in the $17-24 price range, and these are wines that pair nicely with a more leisurely-prepared meal, a higher quality wine that can take a special place of honor on your table. And the special occasion wines are typically $25-40, wines that you keep in your wine storage rack for a birthday, anniversary, the boss coming to dinner, or as a gift. You should expect fine quality, great taste, and lasting pleasure on the palate.


What question didn’t I ask that I should have?

You didn’t ask how you or your readers can host a wine tasting! It’s easy entertaining – you invite 6-12 wine loving friends and I take care of everything else. The cost is $50 and includes 6 full bottles of our latest artisan wines. I do a guided tasting and your friends will have a chance at the end to pick their favorites, and those wines will ship immediately from our Napa winery. And now I’ve started doing Skype wine tastings, for any of your readers in an area that I don’t travel to. And if you or any of your readers are interested in learning more about pouring wine, I’d love to tell you more about it.

Like my Facebook page (www.facebook.com/wineshopathomekellyb...) to keep up on our latest specials and new available wines, recipes, and fun wine tips!