Caroline Leavitt's Blog, page 85

August 20, 2013

Yona Zeldis McDonough talks about her sublime new novel TWO OF A KIND, falling in love, and so much more





I've been friends with Yona Zeldis McDonough for many of her books (isn't that a great way to think of a friendship?) and I'm thrilled to host her here again for her latest, Two of a Kind, which is already racking up the raves.   Publishers Weekly says, "Readers will delight in this layered tale of friendship and love," and Romantic Times  calls it "honest and engrossing. 4 1/2 stars." About love, loss and what it takes to be brave enough to risk again, Two of a Kind is a one-of-a-kind read. Thank you, Yona, for being here!
Falling in Love Again
I’ve certainly explored love in my previous novels—love between men and women (and on a couple of occasions, between men and men) as well as husbands and wives, forbidden, adulterous love and the soul-shocking, bring-you-to-your-knees kind of love a parent can have for a child.  But I’ve never written a novel that explores and unpacks the process of falling in love—until TWO OF A KIND.            In this novel, I introduced two mismatched characters: Dr. Andy Stern, a brash, occasionally obnoxious but basically decent guy with a high risk gyn/ob practice on Park Avenue, and Christina Connelly, a seemingly frosty Brooklyn-based interior designer who thinks Andy is about as appealing as a basket full of day-old fish. But these two find themselves attracted to each other, and I liked the process of charting the push and pull of that attraction, their attempts to resist it (each thinks the other is fundamentally wrong) and finally their inability to resist one another. But TWO OF A KIND is not just a love story—it’s a second chance at love story, which is a slightly different animal.  Andy and Christina each come with significant emotional baggage—in his case, he is still mourning the death of a beloved wife from ovarian cancer and dealing with a teen-aged son who acts out his grief in a variety of ways.  Christina comes to the relationship with her own issues: her adored husband Will died in a fire and her daughter Jordan, an aspiring and driven young ballet dancer, despises Andy on sight.  How can these two set aside the emotionally fraught past and find their way to each other? It was my job as a novelist to delineate exactly that.I worked on a number of fronts: I tried to show Christina’s attempts to fit into Andy’s world, and he into hers.  I documented their growing sexual attraction, and made much of its ultimate consummation.  I used humor, in a scene in which know-it-super-doctor Andy attempts to make dinner for Christina and other his other guests only to find that putting a meal on table is a tad more tricky than he imagined.    And I explored the idea that even in a love story, love doesn’t necessarily conquer all—some other factors need to come into play. I hoped that the accretion of these scenes and the arc of this narrative offer a realistic and vivid picture of what it is like for two individuals to merge into a single, harmonious unit.  So here it is, TWO OF A KIND, my own love song to the mysterious and sometimes baffling process of falling in love...again. 
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Published on August 20, 2013 18:15

August 16, 2013

And now for something very different: agent Marly Rusoff talks about her new venture, crystal balls, publishing as well as agenting, starting with Cassandra King's Moonrise!










Why would an agent go into publishing? Marly Rusoff is here to explain. Along with her is her first author in her new imprint, Maiden Lane:  Cassandra King, talking about Moonrise.  King is the author of five other  novels and is a New York Times' bestselling author. Moonrise is her first book in nearly five years, her homage to Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca.
Tell us, Cassandra, what made you decide to write an homage to this classic book? What were the difficulties? And the surprises?  Did writing Moonrise make you experience or feel differently about the original?
I like to think that we as writers don't find stories, they find us. So I didn't really set out to write an homage to Rebecca; instead, it happened in a serendipitous way, as these things often do. I was spending a summer in a dark old house in Highlands, working on a book set there, and beginning to flesh out the different characters, story lines, etc. One day, I made an interesting discovery hidden away in the garden of the house I'd rented. Exploring, I found the final resting place of the previous owner's wife. As we writers are apt to do, I became intrigued by the lonely yet lovely site, and was drawn to it again and again. And I'll confess, my imagination came into play as I wondered about the woman who had once walked those garden paths and now rested in a secluded spot that must have been beloved by her. By sheer coincidence (or maybe not!), among my stack of books for summer reading was an old copy of Rebecca. When I'm working on a book, I relax at the end of a long day of writing by watching old movies or re-reading books I've loved in the past. I've found it's the only way to keep myself on track; the last thing I need is to get engrossed in a new thriller or bestseller that I can't put down.  It was only when I returned to the familiar pages of Rebecca did I see the connection with my new-found fascination with the previous wife of the house and du Maurier's unnamed narrator. By chance, I'd found a new approach to my Highlands book.
If I had set out to write a retelling of Rebecca, I'm sure the difficulties would have been numerous. Certainly, creating a believable modern woman to play du Maurier's shy, overly-intimidated narrator would have been major. But one of the things I love about Rebecca is the way that same woman comes into her own by the end of the book. Having Helen, the counterpart in my book, be so intimidated by her predecessor without coming across as a wimp, was a challenge, but one that I enjoyed struggling with. It always comes as a surprise to me when my characters take on a life of their own, and this time was no exception.
Yes, writing Moonrise gave me a new appreciation for the mastery of du Maurier's craft in writing Rebecca. The suspense is perfectly timed, and the characters are unforgettable, even the minor ones. I look forward to the next time I sit down to read one of my all-time favorites, Rebecca, yet again.  CK
Marly, please tell us about how and why you decided, as a highly successful agent, to go into the publishing business?
I spent twenty years on the publisher’s side of the desk and have no illusions about how difficult it is to publish well. When it comes to our clients, our first choice has always been and will continue to be working with publishing houses as we have so productively done in the past. We are now and will remain primarily literary agents. However, we know that in the evolving and dynamic literary marketplace, non-traditional publishing opportunities will arise to advance our authors’ careers, and, in partnership with our writers, we want to be able to move quickly to take advantage of these opportunities. 
In the case of Cassandra King’s Moonrise, a novel inspired by the gothic classic Rebecca, we believed her fans would want a beautiful, classic, hardbound book for themselves, but we also wanted to create something lovely enough to give as a gift for the holidays. The opportunity to align ourselves with a powerhouse like Ingram Publishing Services for sales and distribution gave us the courage to move ahead. Besides, as the daughter of a book collector and bookbinder, working with others to create a marvelous book was a pure joy for me.  Bookseller Jake Reiss of The Alabama Booksmith recently made my week when he called to say that an early copy of Moonrise had just landed in his shop and that it instantly became “the most beautiful book in the store.” Jake, who specializes in signed books, called it a “double collectable”  – the first Maiden Lane Press book and a first edition of what he is convinced is the best novel yet by an author he admires. I have a rule. When it comes to books, I agree with Jake. Here is where he agrees with me: In this era of easy access to ebooks, if you’re going to create a physical book, you should make it special, something worth keeping on your coffee table or on your bookshelf. And that is what we always aspire to do when we publish. But that certainly does not mean we won’t offer our titles as ebooks too.  Our goal is to make books available in all formats. Moonrise is available as an ebook and as an audio book as well.
Like many agents, we may decide to selectively reissue out-of-print books by our clients. And I have been itching to produce a few beautifully designed small editions that will appeal to my current author’s fans or to collectors.  One example that comes to mind:  I was in the audience when Arthur Phillips delivered a brilliant lecture at the Minneapolis Public Library last year about his attempt to enter into the mind of Shakespeare while writing his last book, The Tragedy of Arthur, a novel that included an entire “lost” Shakespeare play, written by Phillips.  He has a fantastically original mind and is an amazing speaker. I am sure this lecture would make a wonderful small book, but we would only do so if Random House is not interested in publishing it.  They have been wonderful partners in introducing Arthur Phillip’s work to readers.  
What are some of the old and new methods you will use to help find new readers esp. in changing publishing environment?
Even though we constantly hear that the publishing environment is in flux, as someone who had a bookstore herself and who came up within the ranks of the major publishers, I still see some things that have not changed: readers and writers are striving for communion and community. Whether a writer is publishing a first novel, tweeting, putting up a blog post, posting a status update on Facebook or uploading a video to a Tumblr blog, the objectives are the same as they always have been: making something worth reading  (great art if possible!) and connecting with readers. It used to be that writers and readers came together only every few years when an author published a book. Now it’s possible for writers and readers to know each other and communicate in exciting new ways. True, some writers are just not interested, and I understand the desire to have a private life, but others find that Twitter, Facebook, and/or blogging can be a creative outlet that gives them a break from solitude and hard work of writing a book. . And for many readers, “knowing” a favorite author online provides them with an opportunity to learn more about the person behind the work and the process behind some of the books and stories that resonate with them. They bond with these authors in a more intimate way.Just as interesting for me are the online communities that have sprung up around reading and books. Goodreads, LibraryThing and others serve as virtual salons for passionate book lovers, giving readers a chance to interact with other readers just as excited about books as they are.  As a publisher, we’re entering into this new world in ways we never did as a literary agency. Frankly, I was reluctant to enter into the world of social media. But now we are on Facebook and Twitter, and doing our best to become a small part of a lively online community of readers. I’m a bit late to the party but am now dancing none the less.
At the same time, I have longtime relationships with booksellers around the country that I value and that have been extraordinarily meaningful to my authors and to me both professionally and personally over the years. The books I represent are what I believe are wonderful books that I would have enjoyed selling to customers if I were still a bookseller. We plan to publish the same kind of work through Maiden Lane Press. I hope booksellers will be proud to have them in store.
I have to ask, how you decided to call your imprint Maiden Line.
There is a stop on the London tube called Maiden Lane and it always intrigued me. Quite honestly, I never got off at that stop, but the name stayed with me. I loved the sound of it.  Perhaps because I’ve always been fascinated by the mews and back alleys of London I well remember how happy I was to find streets named Maiden Lane in many of the oldest cities in America. One exists in Charleston, SC; there is one here in New York, and another in San Francisco.  But the one Maiden Lane I knew best was the little alleyway that ran near the large mansions on Summit Avenue in historic district of St Paul, MN, the place where I was born. I always imagined that these modest homes housed the working women and domestic help needed to staff these grand homes. Recently when I searched for the history of New York’s Maiden Lane I learned that it was the first busy market in Manhattan dating back to the early 1600’s. A river now buried under Manhattan ran along that lane; it was where local woman came to wash their laundry.  A now- buried river? What is it that good writers do but plumb the depths? Besides, publishing is hard work, and it is my nature to work hard so I can’t help but identify with those who do. And once I learned that Maiden Lane was the first street in Manhattan to have gas lamps, I had the idea for our lovely logo. Books: a way to light the darkness.         
What question I should have asked?
Would you recommend this solution to other agents?
It depends on an agent’s goals and resources available to enter this experiment. It is more risky if you print physical books, as we are doing. Electronic publishing is after all much cheaper. But with so much changing in publishing and bookselling, it is hard to predict the future. We are not willing to rule out the pure pleasure of reading a wonderful book printed on paper. 
When I was a bookseller some thirty years ago, Madame Sarah, a dark, long- skirted fortune teller who looked as if she came straight out of central casting appeared in my bookstore in Minneapolis and asked me to order a new crystal ball for her practice. It took me a few weeks to find one, (this was long before the Internet), but I needed the sale so I eventually found one and was able to fulfill her order.  Perhaps I should have ordered two. The future for ventures like ours is uncertain, but I suspect if agents and authors keep in mind that we are all working for the reader, we have a chance to succeed.             Marly Rusoff 
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Published on August 16, 2013 14:59

Poet Sarah Arvio talks about Night Thoughts, dream poems and more











I first met Sarah Arvio at a party at a book festival. Over glasses of wine, big crowds, and cookies, we bonded. I am not a poet, but I loved the way Sarah talked about her craft and her art, and I wanted to host her here. Thank you, Sarah!

How did you know you were a poet? 
I was always a poet.  I climbed up in trees, carrying a pencil and a pad of paper; and wrote words and even some verses while perched on a branch.   I liked to get away from the crowd, and have a secret, meditative moment.   I read voraciously, and tried out new words almost as soon as I read them.  One of my friends wrote this in a letter:  Sarah is a poet, she enters the room hopping on one foot!  I was young, and loved silliness.
Many years have passed since then. night thoughts is half poems and half prose.   The prose is a memoir and an essay, about trauma, dreaming, memory...  It complements the poems and tells a story.
What's your writing life like?
A writing life is a laptop.  For a long while it was a notebook and a pen.  Recently I began composing poems on my iphone voice memo while out walking--this has revolutionized my writing practice.
As a translator, I am often traveling; life on the move is full of variety and surprise;  new images, new words appear in my poems--so this is a writing life.
People like to quote Wordsworth as saying that poetry… “is emotion recollected in tranquility.”  But the same sentence (in the preface to the Lyrical Ballads) calls poetry  “the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings.”  I have often written poems straight out, dripping tears on my hands as I type.  Sometimes I also laugh when I write. What concerns you in poetry? And tell us what a dream poem really is? 
When you begin to read a poem, there should be some pull--even a yank.  Something in the sound of the first few words pulls you into the poem.  Something in the sound touches your nerves and senses, moves your mind… The movement of the words, and rhythms and repetitions, pull you along.   The language should be immediate, and real.   Feel fresh, and sound like life--while at the same time being removed from life.  It should be as exalted as life, maybe, and dynamic--something sets it apart from the way we talk.   I like irony and humor even in the darkest work.
I’ve always loved the chime of one word with another, the convergence of similar sounds; I love to hear and follow rhythms.  Working on my dreams--free associating from dreams--made my writing freer and more fluid.  I riffed--on sounds, words, images. It’s often said that dreams don’t make good poems, because they are the private secret language of the dreamer.  My dream poems --the poems in night thoughts-tell dreams in the setting of the emotional experience, and transformed by the process of free-associating.   In some of the poems, the dream is followed by the memory it led to.  Often, the language of the poem interprets the dream.    To give you an example, I had a dream in which Olivia de Havilland appeared.  When I wrote the poem, the words “have a land” emerged.  And that word-spin offered the meaning of the dream.   Here is the poem:
                olivia de havilland
I tell olivia I would rather diethan let them throw my suitcase overboardwhile the boat rocks & the spray splashes upeveryone’s suitcase must go overboardbut my case is more dire more desperatebecause I have nothing left in the worldonly my suitcase & the drenching deckshe says she will help me  I weep & wailif I lose my suitcase I’ll go overboardher last name is havilland which meanshave a land meaning will you have some land& land is what I need to do & haveI’m far out to sea on the lurching deckI need a remedy to suit the case
There were many surprises and new revelations as I wrote.
What's obsessing you now and why? My taxes.  I’m two years behind.   I stopped taking care of anything that interfered with the creation of the book.  I kept on cooking; I went on walking in the fields: life must have its pleasures and fulfillment.  But I have a lot of straightening up to do.   What question didn't I ask that I should have? Infinite possible questions were left out! 
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Published on August 16, 2013 14:35

August 13, 2013

Early Decision: The terror of the college essay process becomes a gripping novel from former college admissions counselor, Lacy Crawford






Sigh. The Boy is in the midst of writing his college essays, applying to theater schools and taking his SATS and ACT for the last time. And we, his parents, are fried, frenzied, scared, lost. Living in the NYC area, we hear of kids being sent to Thailand to build houses, in order to ramp up their community service angle. We know of would-be-thespians taking acting classes in London, and there is always the $700-an-hour college consultant some families are fighting over because the price tag comes with a supposed guarantee the consultant can get their kid into Yale.
Sigh is right.
So when Early Decision: Based on a True Frenzy, popped through my door, I was nervous. Until I began to read. Crawford's taken one of the most terrifying and pressure-cooker times in a family's life--applying to college-- and turned it into art, along the way exploring how the stress to succeed often has nothing to do with happiness. I'm thrilled to have her here. Thank you so much, Lacy.

So what made you want to put your experiences into a novel rather than into a memoir? is any part of the process fictionalized? (I ask this with a heavy heart...)          
A memoir would have violated the privacy the families I worked with, and in many cases the students whose stories I remembered had already been hurt enough; they didn’t need a book to publicize the wound.  And on the liability front, it would have been crazy to report the true stories of some of the enormously powerful and prominent families I worked for.  Finally, I wasn’t interested in telling my own story as memoir.  I was interested in the students, in redeeming their experiences and in—I hope—helping other families to avoid the same pitfalls.              The nuts and bolts of the process as depicted in the book are absolutely true, as any student or parent going through it will know—the labyrinth of forms and scores and essays, the bizarre experience of completing the Common Application.  But the characters in my book are characters, and while they were born of my experience in real life, they very much took over their own fates in the book’s pages.            The anxiety, too, is real.  But one of the reasons I wrote a satire is to try to lift the scrim a bit, to reveal how this process is causing so much upset—how we can become so convinced that destiny hangs on a college acceptance that we forget that life is so much bigger than this.  And that raising a child through young adulthood means giving perspective to this process, not overwhelming a child with it.
 Are you familiar with the great documentary Nursery University? It's about what NYC parents do to get their 3 year olds into pre-school, including hiring a woman at $750 an hour to help them.  Do you see any signs that this trend and all this pressure is ever going to end?
Children have always borne the weight of their parents’ ambitions, in one way or another.  I think, broadly speaking, that it is the case in the United States at least that the expectations parents have for their children have become more specific: that is, it’s no longer to marry a suitable partner and have a family, or to find a career and support your family, but to have a very specific sort of life, involving one kind of partner and one kind of career, and the gateway to those things is often perceived to be one of about twenty-five colleges (and nowhere else).  Excepting the most status-hungry parents out there, I think that most parents are motivated by a healthy fear: fear of shifting economies, a battered job market, the pressures of globalization; all of these macroeconomic and social trends make it difficult for parents to imagine the world their children will inherit, and that is terrifying.  In the face of that, you want to give your child the best, most bullet-proof background you can.  Unfortunately, instead of defining that as self-reliance, authenticity, the confidence of one’s convictions, human compassion, they define that as Harvard / Yale / finance / law.              It is fascinating to me that some parents, particularly those featured in films such as Nursery University, believe that a child’s success in life can be secured by acceptance to the right preschool.  It is true that certain schools are “feeders” for other schools, and so on and so on, so if you get your child into, say, First Presbyterian Nursery School in the Village, you have a better shot at Brearley, and from there a better shot at Yale.  But those calculations aren’t at the heart of these parents’ quests.  Emotionally, they are looking to exempt their children from competition by competing for them; they’re looking to win them a place right from the beginning, so everything will be lined up for the rest of their lives.  This is a dream, of course.  To me, it signals a failure of imagination, and a reflexive, and very fear-based, response to parenting in our day.            Is this going to end?  I couldn’t say.  There are strong, lucid voices arguing for sanity—Madeline Levine in The Price of Privilege and Teach Your Children Well, Paul Tough in How Children Succeed, and others—as well as the sparkling examples of kids who took non-traditional paths to prominence.  I don’t much esteem Mark Zuckerberg, but I like that dropping out of Harvard has now become about as cool as getting in.  There are a million ways to make a life, and the world is astonishingly large and various.  The dream, I think, has to be to raise a child who has some sense of the possibility in the hands of the young, and who has enough quiet and faith to learn her own desires and go after them.
You were a college admissions counselor to children of privilege. Do you think it's the same way among those who aren't so privileged?
While I was working with wealthy clients, I volunteered at local public schools and, later, for individuals who were sent my way who could not afford anything like the sort of help I provided.  The hothouse climate of trophy schools and pressure does not exist for students who fall outside of a very narrow band of income and aspiration.  It is, quite simply, a luxury to sweat Harvard’s 5-percent admit rate; and I wish more parents had this perspective.  One of the characters in Early Decision, Cristina, is based on a real student, the daughter of undocumented immigrants, who graduated from a huge and embattled urban high school and ended up at an Ivy League school.  Students as talented as she was have nothing to fear in the application process; their challenges far precede competition in the applicant pool.  Elite colleges and universities are keen to find and admit students like Cristina, and the top schools have plenty of funding for them; but the public education system fails them year after year.  These young people don’t know that college is a possibility.  They don’t know about the top schools, they have no idea of the fellowships and grants on offer, and they don’t have anyone to shepherd them through the maze of forms, test scores, and deadlines.  Often their parents are immigrants, documented or not, and this adds another layer of inscrutability to the application process.  It’s a problem that transcends racial and ethnic lines, and it really does enrage me to think that after clearing so many hurdles, posting consistent academic achievement in an underperforming school environment and with heaven knows what responsibilities and disadvantages at home, a student could fail to reach a top college because of what are essentially logistical requirements.  I hoped to help sound the drum for outreach and service to students in settings such as these.              In the middle, of course, is the wide band of young people who have to worry not only about where they’re accepted, but also about where they’ll receive aid (and how much they’ll be offered).  This is a grappling with real life that their more privileged peers are spared at great psychological expense.  It’s a rude awakening when, in their twenties or later, young people whose parents paid their way through college realize that things like rent and car insurance are not also free.  Also, in my experience, having to face the realities of college costs makes for more focused students.  We value things we have to work for.  Rich kids go, they drink, they network, they read some, they graduate.  But do they take advantage of as many opportunities as they could?  I’d argue that many of them never do.

Let's talk about the writing. What was the whole process like for you? Did you outline? Just fly by the seat of your pen? Was there anything that surprised you in the writing?
After my first child was born, I found myself thinking about my decade-plus of former students more than I had in all the years before.  I remembered the interactions with their parents, the long, late, miserable October and November nights with crying kids who felt they were going to let their parents down, who were convinced that their lives were over before they had even begun.  And I remembered with a fresh horror some of the things the parents had said and done.  I looked at my baby and thought, will I be possessed by the same madness?  I refuse to visit this on him.              I dreamed up some student characters first, and wrote their essay drafts, just for fun.  But I was home alone with my baby, and my husband’s job took him out of town every single week, so for the most part I just took notes for about nine months.  My son was colicky and would only nap in his car seat, so I’d drive around foggy San Francisco until he fell asleep, and then go park in a parking garage (I had a few favorites, usually the free ones attached to grocery stores) and take notes on the book.  I didn’t say a word about it to anyone—it was just a private folly, something I did to entertain myself while working out those first months with a first baby.  Finally I read a few pages to my husband, and he told me it was time to get serious about the book.  We hired part-time childcare to buy me a few hours during the week, and my husband took our baby on Saturdays so I could write.  I never outlined, but when a sequence of events came clear to me, or a particular character’s arc, I would scribble it down as quickly as I could, so as not to lose it.  By the time I started writing, I had been collecting ideas and intentions for so long that it was like unfurling a sail—it just billowed out ahead of me, and the experience was of chasing it, always trying to keep up.  I worked on it whenever I could—in the middle of the night, early mornings, whenever.            Then there was revision, of course, sentence by sentence, constantly—I work with an entire manuscript, nothing is firm until it’s all done—but the drafting came to me with great pleasure.  I had waited so long to be able to work on it that it was a treat to finally be able to do so.

I found it fascinating that you wrote that in teaching these kids, you were able to sort out your own life. Could you talk about that please?
Immediately after graduation I tried my hand at a few things that I thought I would love to do, only to discover that I was in the wrong place.  I taught high school English, but I wasn’t a very good instructor.  I interned in public radio, but I wasn’t hungry for leads and I wasn’t really that turned on by narratives of sound.  I started a PhD program in English Literature, but I didn’t really want to be an academic.  After a time, this experimentation began to feel like floundering, and soon thereafter like drowning.  I can see now that I was trying things because I loved them, not because I loved doingthem.  Not a bad way to experiment, and I was very lucky to have the opportunity to do this, but loving your English Literature studies does not translate to loving a classroom full of teenagers on a Monday morning, and listening to a lot of NPR does not mean that you’ll find your groove in a newsroom.  In a sense, I was performing a version of adulthood rather than working my way toward it; I wanted to be something before figuring out how to dosomething.  As I aged through my twenties, I began to panic.  I worried there was no place for me, that I would never hit upon the run of steady, small, cumulative successes that leads to a career, that allows someone to move from apprentice to practitioner in a given field.            All of this time, I was working with high school seniors.  So many of them had been trained to present themselves in a certain way, particularly in writing, that it could take quite a lot of conversation for me to come to understand the things that mattered to them most.  Sometimes, without even knowing it, these kids were voicing their parents’ dreams rather than their own.  My job was to listen to them intently, to infer their interests based on how those things were expressed or hidden.  Terrific essays and a clear academic direction would always follow.  They’d say, But I can’t DO (biology / calculus / Latin).  There’s no WAY I can become a (dolphin trainer / video game designer / classicist).  And I’d reply, let’s just put one foot in that direction, let’s just knock on a few doors, and see what happens.  And they’d be off and running.            It took a very, very long time for me to figure out how to apply this to my own life—how to admit what I really wanted to do and have the courage to go after it.  Some of my kids were emotionally savvy enough to detect this, and they’d provoke me a bit—So, are you loving this tutoring gig?—and it used to infuriate me.  Of course it did; they were holding up the mirror.            But really I discovered that I needed to calm down, make some clear choices, and let the gods handle the rest.  It was a lesson in both resilience and conviction.           
So what's obsessing you now?
You might have read about, or seen, the new documentary Blackfishabout the keeping in captivity of killer whales.  My family relocated to San Diego last year, so Sea World is a regular day’s outing for us.  I’ve long been ambivalent about wild animals in captivity, and I usually find zoos to be terribly depressing, but I found that my resistance lessened when I saw the way my children reacted to the orcas and other animals at Sea World (and the San Diego Zoo, the aquarium, and so on).  I regretted that these magnificent animals weren’t roaming the open oceans, but I was able to imagine the thousands upon thousands of children who come to see them, and hope that if just one in every ten thousand children discovers his dream thereby, is overwhelmed by passion for these animals and set on a path toward oceanography, environmental research and preservation, even philosophy and the ethics of our association to the natural world, then there is a net positive here.  This film has thrown my precarious acceptance back into question, and I’m wondering if instead of offering my children a path to stewardship of the natural world, I’m instead modeling for them that humanity always has dominion over that world, even (and especially) the most powerful, exceptional animals, the ones who, in many ways, are most like us.  Which opinion most accurately reflects the truth?  I don’t know, but it seems to me that between the well-being of these animals and the preservation of the natural world (which task soon falls to my children’s generation), the stakes are very high.

What question didn't I ask that I should have?
So should the parent of a college-bound senior hire someone like you?  Can my child compete without such a tutor? 
            There is absolutely a place for independent college applications counseling.  In-house (high school) college counselors can be overwhelmed, with far too many students to know everyone well and help them make good choices, much less be in useful dialogue about essay topics and other ideas.  There are wonderful college advisors out there who really know the schools and can offer support with the deadlines, forms, financial aid processes, search for grants and scholarships, and so on—all really critical logistical help for busy parents who may feel horrified by the anxiety and manic energy that attends every aspect of this process.            That said, as with any profession, there are splendid practitioners and there are lesser ones.  Any applications advisor who is packaging a student instead of listening to him will insult a young person just as independence beckons.  It’s a tender time.  Choose wisely, lest your son or daughter be dropped into an applicant-molding process that will take care of everything except for taking responsibility if it doesn’t work out.  In other words: find your friends and stay above the fray, and it will all end up fine.  Really, it does.          
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Published on August 13, 2013 19:15

Want to write for the movies or TV? Two great new books help you learn from the pros at UCLA Extension Writers' Program










I admit I'm totally biased. I work for UCLA Extension Writers' Program online, teaching all levels of novel writing and story structure, and I've also taken a one-on-one screenwriting course with them.  (Hey, I didn't make the first round of the Sundance Screenwriters Lab last year for nothing!) But if you can't be in a class, what's the next best step? Linda Venis, the Director of the renowned UCLA Extension Writers Program (and yes, my fabulous boss) has gathered together the top talents in the writing for film and writing for television programs for two essential books: Inside the Room: Writing Television with the Pros at UCLA Extension Writers' Program, and Cut to the Chase: Writing Feature Films with the Pros at UCLA Extension Writers' Program.
Each book is based on the program's workshops and written by its successful film and writer-teachers who aren't just teaching what they know, they're also actively working in the business.  I'm delighted to have Linda here to talk about the books. Thank you so, so much, Linda.



What do you think makes Writers’ Program, in general, so good?
First, thanks for the compliment about the quality of the Writers’ Program!  Second, to return the compliment in a 100% genuine way, one of the reasons the Program has such a strong reputation for excellence and has many student success stories to its name is because the teachers are all professional writers or work in allied fields (literary agents, development executives, etc.)  They have, collectively, 1000’s of published and produced writing credits in every field of creative writing and screenwriting, and they are incredibly generous in sharing their knowledge with aspiring writers.  In addition, because we’re an open enrollment program and attract adult learners from all over the world, we’re able to offer a very broad and deep curriculum--upwards of 425 courses a year.  Students can write full screenplays, novels, memoirs—whatever they are passionate about--and be mentored all the way through the process.        
How are these books a natural outcome of the program?
Cut to the Chase and Inside the Room draw directly from the Writers’ Program film and TV writing curriculum, and my main impetus for creating these books was to make our comprehensive training more widely accessible and to try and capture the diverse expertise (and personalities!) of some of the pros who teach for us.   With a total of 25 chapters and 24 authors, the books represent a rich layering of knowledge, techniques, tips,  and strategies to write screenplays and be a working writer.  Just like the Writers’ Program itself, the books offer readers best practices as well as specialized and alternative practices.  
 Can you talk about how the experience of learning through these books might differ from being in a class?  
Once again, I have to say that the extraordinary access the books’ readers have, at their fingertips, to so many diverse, dynamic, expert points of view on how to write and survive as film and TV business writers is unique.  If people are using Cut to the Chase and Inside the Room in screenwriting classes or writers’ groups, the books, so much the better—the books can be a “guide on the side.”  The obvious limitation to learning how to write a script by only using a book is they aren’t getting feedback on the work they create—it’s more of a one-way street.  That said,  the chapter authors give a lot of concrete guidance for working through the process, staying on track, warding off the dreaded inner critic (as well as negative people in their lives!), and inspiring their readers to persevere.    As editor, I strove to ensure that the chapters were well-organized , easy to follow, and used lots of recent films and TV shows as examples—in short, the books have been designed the books explicitly for readers.     
Tell us about some of the amazing people in both books.
The chapter authors are the real deal:  taken all together, they’ve had thousands of hours of movies, television series, and pilots produced, and a brief list of their credits include The Simpsons; House, M.D.; Pretty Little Liars; Frasier;  Liar Liar;  Meet the Robinsons; and Journey to the Center of the Earth.  They have won Emmy and Writers Guild Awards, and several have written their own (very good) screenwriting books.   As television writer-producer Zoanne Clack (Grey’s Anatomy) says, “The Writers’ Program instructors have been out there--they’re speaking from experience.  They can tell you how the business really works, how to market yourself, and what the market wants.” 
What I find so great about these books is that they are based on the process of writing movie and TV scripts. The reader has to do the lessons and the exercises, and in doing them, they begin to think and work like a professional.  Why is thinking like a professional so crucial?
This is such a great question—especially since many people  assume writing scripts is much easier than it actually is—primarily because they have seen a ton of movies and TV shows.  That’s why it’s important that new writers understand the difference between the Product, which is the final script, and Process, which is a creative journey writers need to undergo to actually type “The End.” The process of writing a script takes time and practice—there are certain steps that need to be completed and which build upon one another; it’s like acquiring any complex skill.  Talent is important too, but without acquiring a writing practice, those who dream of writing for film and TV won’t have a shot at a sustained  career.  But the good news is that once people get a handle on the process,  they can create script after script--how a script gets completed is demystified for them.  
Can you talk about what’s called the “screenwriting a la carte” nature of the Writers’ Program.
One of my favorite features of the UCLA Extension Writers’ Program is that students can “customize” their screenwriting and creative writing educations.  Our students are educated adults—they aren’t looking to earn another degree or follow a proscribed curriculum.  Instead, our students want to acquire specific skills, particular kinds of guidance—maybe they want to write a literary novel or a horror movie or persona poems.  Maybe they want to work specifically on scenes or characters.  They might have already written a lot, so they can jump right into more advanced courses.  Or they might be brand new to the creative process and want a course that is exercise-driven and highly supportive.  Given the scope and depth of the Program, the varied expertise of the teachers, and the fact that as a continuing education institution, we have the flexibility to create courses that respond to our students’ needs, we are able to offer a large “a la carte” array of classes from which the students can shape their own course of study. The books are organized in the same way: readers can work their way through the books linearly, or they can dip into chapters that suit their writing levels and needs. 
I love the quote that screenwriting “is a journey, not a race. It’s supposed to be hard.” I think writers need to embrace that fact. Yet, both books break the process down into bite-sized pieces to make it understandable and even fun. Can you talk a bit about that, please?
I love that quotation too, and it’s an image that pops up throughout both books.  It’s a warning, on one level, to let new writers know that the process will take a while—it comes back to the Product versus Process distinction I mentioned earlier.  But also, it’s such a reassuring image:  screenwriting is a creative journey in which writers delve into their own experiences; test out story ideas; develop juicy, complex characters; learn structure and outlining; power through their first draft; and then go on to the more refined levels of the screenwriting process.  The organization of the chapters is extremely deliberate in the way it breaks down the elements of this journey--so for example, the more subtle aspects of feature film writing  typically undertaken at the revision stage such as dialogue and visual storytelling are included in the “Rewriting Your Feature Screenplay” section of Cut to the Chase.    And yes!  Both books make the journey fun! 
What interested me too, was how much of the information was both specific and particular, and yet could transcend genres. There was much in the screenwriting book that could apply to the novel, that I found myself taking notes. Care to comment? Wow—if  a New York Times best-selling novelist has found these film and TV writing books applicable to her own craft, my day is made!  Actually, I’ve always been a big believer in the power of cross-disciplinary study, and if writers in various genres find Cut to the Chase and Inside the Room useful, I’m delighted.  I’m already getting feedback from people who aren’t necessarily interested in writing screenplays—or even being a writer—but they love how the books take them inside how scripts are put together and what the movie and TV industries are really like.    
And do you think you will have a book for Writing The Novel?I never say “never” (not too often anyway), but I do think there are excellent books on the market for fiction writers.  However, my next big project will involve the creative writing side of the Writers’ Program, and I have a wonderful gift that was bequeathed by a beloved, long-time fiction writing teacher who passed away in 2011, Phyllis Gebauer, to support it.   More to come, Caroline! 

What question didn’t I ask that I should have?Your questions were very thorough—I’m thrilled to have the opportunity to chat about the UCLA Extension Writers’ Program and our new books.  The only thing I’d add is that if people would like to find out more about us, we’d invite them to visit our website:  http://blogs.uclaextension.edu/writers.  

Linda Venis, PhDDirector, Department of the ArtsProgram Director, Writers' Program
http://blogs.uclaextension.edu/writerswww.facebook.com/writersprogramwww.facebook.com/writersprogrambookswww.twitter.com/writersprogramwww.pinterest.com/writersprogram
UCLA Extension Mission:  "To provide knowledge and connections for people to achieve their personal and professional goals"
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Published on August 13, 2013 19:00

August 6, 2013

Stacy Horn talks about Imperfect Harmony: Finding Happiness Singing With Others, singing about the glories of God as an agnostic, why imperfection is beautiful, and so much more






Stacy Horn's book, Imperfect Harmony, is the kind of book you carry around with you, not just because you want to keep reading it, but because you want to show it to  friends, and even though you can't possible give up your copy, you want to encourage them to go right out and buy their own.  Imperfect Harmony is really about rescue, about finding yourself even as you lose yourself in singing music. Singing, says Stacy, can make your life better. 
Stacy's warm, funny and a fabulous writer and she's the one person who makes me think maybe I should sing, too (I cannot carry a tune.) She's also the author of Unbelievable: investigations into Ghosts, Poltergeists, Telepathy, and Other Unseen Phenomena from the Duke Parapsychology laboratory, The Restless Sleep: Inside New York City's Cold Case Squad, Waiting for My Cats To Die: A Morbid Memoir. She's the founder of the online community Echo, where people come on to talk about love, life, work, everything. I'm so jazzed to have Stacy here!


How did you get involved in singing? Did you sing as a child? Did it take courage to join a choir, and what was that like at first?
I was in my twenties, and every area of my life was just bad. Divorce, a job that had nothing to do with anything I loved in life, the usual.  I could see this tunnel to depression opening up and I was desperate to find a way to close it.  Rocking back and forth on my living room floor sobbing and smoking Camel cigarettes wasn’t doing it.
So I was looking for ways to get happy.  Fast.  It had to be something that would last more than a night or two, and wasn’t tied to things I didn’t have any control over, like falling in love.
I remembered singing in a choir one Christmas in high school and how much fun that was.  I loved the Christmas carols, the rehearsals, the performance in a church glittering with holiday decorations, everything.  So I found a beautiful church and a community choir (you didn’t need to be a member of the church to join) the only problem was I had to audition.  Terrific.  Just what you want to do when you’re at one of the lowest points in your life.  “I know I don’t have a particularly nice voice,” I pleaded with the director at my audition, “but I can sing in tune and I promise to always sing very, very quietly.”   After I sang, he looked at me and said as gently as he could manage:  “It’s true you don’t have a beautiful voice.  But you can sing in tune.  Welcome to the choir.”
At the first rehearsal someone handed me a copy of Handel’s Messiah.  I’d never seen anything like it.  The score is hundreds and hundred of pages long. “But, but, what about O Holy Night??”  I panicked.  I don’t think I even opened my mouth for the first ten minutes.  But in time I got the hang of, and while I will always love Christmas carols, they can’t compare to singing masterpieces like The Messiah.  It was astounding.  When you sing, you’re not just listening to a masterpiece, you become the masterpiece. It’s a rush.  No matter what mood you’re in when you walk into a rehearsal, you come out of it drenched in happiness (which I would later learn is due in part to all these great neurochemicals coursing through your body when you sing).
What made you want to write this book? What were the joys in the writing and what were the perils?
I had to write this book because I know about this great thing out there that will make your life better, both emotionally and physically.  It’s practically free, it easily accessible, (just show up for rehearsal) and I am living proof that you don’t have to be a great singer to get all the benefits.
I still can’t get over the luck I’ve had in my writing life.  If only time travel were real and I could go back to my twenty-five year old self crying on the floor and say, “Guess what? Your writing dream is going to come true.  You’re going to get to completely immerse yourself in subjects you love for years at a time and get paid for it.”   I’d leave out the part about our abysmal love life.
The only peril for this book is the fact that every person in my choir who reads my book is now going to know some very personal things about me. I don’t mind strangers knowing, but people I see every week? Awkward.  Plus, if any of them don’t like the book that will break my heart and it’s inevitable that some won’t.  Note to fellow choristers: just don’t tell me.  Lying is kind.
It's fascinating to me that you neither have to be religious or even Christian to sing in the church choir, yet there still is something very holy about it. Would you agree?
I felt weird at first, singing about the glories of God week after week as an agnostic.  But by the end of that very first rehearsal I couldn’t help but be grateful that religion has inspired and nurtured what is arguably the most beautiful art our species has ever produced.
Singing is the ultimate communion, connecting you with your fellow singers, the audience, but also with the composer and whatever faith he or she was trying to express.  As I said, when you sing you become you sing.  Here’s how it works.  Randall Thompson wrote music for the words, “Ye shall have a song and gladness of heart.”  That’s from the Bible, Isaiah 30:29. Now, Randall Thompson was a gifted composer.  He wanted me to feel gladness of heart when I sing that line and I do.  So much so I burst into tears the last time.  Feeling that good is almost too much to bear sometimes.
In this way, music becomes the greatest ambassador, capable of bridging people from different religions or no religion at all.  “This is church for me,” a fellow choir member told me.  Another said “If anything is God-like it's singing; it surrounds you with love, friendship, comfort, and beauty.” I may interpret the faith I sing about differently, but I feel the beauty of the expression just the same, and I marvel in the faith and heart that brought forth such exquisite harmony.
Why do you think that imperfect harmony has benefits that perfect harmony might not?
One of the things I figured out in my twenties, in addition to “singing good, getting drunk every night bad,” is that perfection is an impossible and stupid goal and imperfection is beautiful. 
I’ll never forget one year when I took voice lessons, trying to get past my insecurity about my voice.  One night we listened to a recording of my choir, The Choral Society of Grace Church.  “We sound fantastic!!” I said to my teacher. She looked at me and said, “Your voice is in there.” 
The Choral Society is made up of people of varying talents.  There are a lot of truly great singers in there, but there are also people who, like me, will never be invited to sing a solo at the met.  But the final sound we produce—made form a combination of both perfection and imperfection—is stunning.
What was the research like, and what surprised you about it?
I had lots of exciting and surprising moments researching this book, but one stands out. I came across this amazing and horrifying story about a riot in a New York City church in 1834. A white mob had gone inside and dragged out the black congregation that had gathered to sing and celebrate the day slavery had been outlawed in New York. The only people arrested were four black men who were among the victims.  Insane!  I wanted to see if I could find out who those men were in order to write something about what their lives were like after that terrible night. 
I went down to the Municipal Archives, where many of the City’s historical records are kept.  It was a long shot because 1834 was before we had the formal New York City Police Department we have now.  I pulled out the reel of microfilm containing the Police Office Watch Returns for that night and loaded it onto the reader.  The arrest record was there.  One name was illegible, two were names like “John Smith,” so they’d be impossible to find, but thankfully one of the men had an unusual name. Even better, at the end of his life he wrote an autobiography, and in that autobiography was his account of what happened that night.  Of all the accounts of that night, his rang the most true.
I was also able to find out that the people who had dragged that congregation out of the church had sung Handel’s Messiah just weeks before.  For anyone not familiar with the piece, you’re singing the praises of “the prince of peace.”
What's obsessing you now and why?
The Municipal Archives.  Every book I’ve written has led to the Archives at one point or another.  I love that place.  So I’m working on a proposal for a book about this amazing repository and what’s inside.  You wouldn’t believe the treasures they hold, and it’s not just for writers.  True crime, war, the history of terrorism in New York basically, your family history, it’s all there.
What question didn't I ask that I should have?
- I have a million dollars to give you, where should I mail the check?- I think I know the perfect man for you, is it okay if I give him your number?- Oh my god, I love your hair cut, who is your stylist?- I think every one of your books would make a great movie, is it okay if I bring them to the attention of all the big, important movie people I know?- How is it that of all the cats in the world, your two cats are the cutest?- I heard that at your pool you are currently in 3rd place in the New York City Parks and Recreation contest to swim the most miles by August 30th.  Is that the reason for your brimming-with health-look, in addition to your fabulous hair of course?
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Published on August 06, 2013 09:08

Violence in the Military: Deanne Stillman talks about why she wrote Twentynine Palms









Deanne Stillman is a bold, brave, compassionate writer. Twentynine Palms is about a troubled marine who savagely attacks and kills two teenaged girls and how his action tore apart a town. The book was recently re-issued as an e-book, its fourth edition. It was an LA Times “best book of the year” and Hunter Thompson called it “A strange and brilliant story by an important American writer.Her latest book is Desert Reckoning, winner of the 2013 Spur Award for best western nonfiction, contemporary.  ”  Deanne also is the author of the award-winning Mustang, currently under option for a film starring Wendie Malick.  For more, see www.deannestillman.com. I asked Deanne to write something more for the blog, and I am thrilled to have her here. Thank you, Deanne.




In recent months and days, there has been much talk of sexual assaults in the military.  The situation is so dire that there have been Congressional reports, panels, and investigations in all branches of the military.  Recently, even President Obama issued a statement.  Those who commit such acts, he said, should be “prosecuted, stripped of their positions, court-martialed, fired, dishonorably discharged.”   As a result, the Pentagon just fired sixty army troops for violations – and among those let go were recruiters, drill instructors, and, not surprisingly, sexual assault counselors. 
This is a deep-seated problem and it doesn’t stop at the perimeter of any particular base.  In fact, there is another aspect of this story and it involves sexual assaults in military towns, a generally under-reported story because the people who are the victims of it are generally deemed not worthy of coverage – unless something that must be reported to the authorities is involved.  I speak here of one incident in particular, a double rape and homicide which I wrote about in my book, Twentynine Palms: A True Story of Murder, Marines, and the Mojave. It’s about two girls who were raped and killed in that scenic military outpost two hours east of Los Angeles.  The incident happened after the Gulf War in 1991, and was carried out by a Marine several months after he had returned from Saudi Arabia.  This month is the 23rd anniversary of the sad event.        I first learned of it in the Josh Lounge, where I sometimes went after hiking in Joshua Tree National Park.  Some patrons were talking about two girls who had been “sliced up” by a Marine.  “Who were they?” I asked.  “Just some trash in town,” came the reply.   I had been a regular in the area for many years, not just as a pilgrim in the park, but exploring the many treasures of the area – its backroads, its geologic wonders, its unexpected emporiums such as a bookstore run by an ex-biker who served espresso.       Some of the people in town were my friends and so were some of their kids – and I would get to know others very soon.   I knew that there was more to the story of the two girls than “just some trash in town,”  but it wasn’t just because I had been hanging out in Twentynine Palms.   It resonated on a personal level mainly because of my riches to rags childhood in Ohio, during which my parents’ divorce propelled my mother, sister, and me from upper middle-class comfort to the wrong side of the tracks, at which point we suddenly became nameless and voiceless, at least to those in our original world.   Many in our circle stopped talking to us, including some relatives, and from then on, I became quite familiar with America’s dirty little secret – our class system.
When I heard about the two girls – Mandi Scott and Rosalie Ortega, I soon learned - I knew that I was going to tell their story.  It took me on a ten-year journey into the shadowlands of the American dream.  With the help of Mandi’s mother Debie McMaster and her friends, and Rosalie’s sister Jessielynn and her friends as well, I traced their family histories back for generations, in Mandi’s case to the Donner Party, and in Rosie’s case, to a shack in the Philippines.   And then I followed the families into the Mojave, to Twentynine Palms, where each of them – affiliated with branches of the armed services themselves - hoped to start over amid the extreme beauty and promise of our great wide open.   They joined other families who were doing the same thing, only to find that it was just not possible. 
Many of these families were like Mandi’s, headed by single mothers fleeing a decades-long legacy of violence and poverty, military camp followers seeking a toe-hold in the shifting desert sands.  They found jobs at local establishments such as bars, fast food joints, bowling alleys, adjacent mega malls, and so on.  Their kids formed fast and fierce connections, taking care of each other, each other’s babies, and often, Marines – many of them, after all, boys on the verge of manhood, heading off to war.  Intrinsic to their preparations was a marching cadence that is probably rooted in ancient conflicts, perhaps still uttered today in far-flung districts.  It surfaced American-style during the Gulf War, and here’s an excerpt:  …I wish all the ladies was bells in the tower.If I was the hunchback, I’d bang em on the hour.Singin’ hey bobba-ree-ba, hey bobba-row . . .

 In the end, Mandi and Rosie were raped and killed in what had become a sexual war zone on the home front, their bodies left on the field.  How this happened and why are the questions I explore in my book.   The incident happened on dollar-drink night in Twentynine Palms, an evening that occurred every two weeks on Marine pay day.  That’s when the violence in town would spike.  The man who killed Mandi and Rosie was a star on the Marine basketball team.  He had a history of violence towards women before he joined the Corps and while in it, shortly before the attacks on Mandi and Rosie, he had raped the daughter of a sergeant major.  But the incident had been overlooked and then came the night that Mandi and Rosie were killed.   Mandi would have turned sixteen on the following day; Rosie was almost twenty-one.   Her parents – long-haul truckers - had picked up her baby daughter shortly before the murders, fearing trouble in town.  Mandi’s mother had just picked up a refurbished Camaro, wheels to help a girl celebrate her birthday – and then one day, get out of town.   
When my book was first published, some in Twentynine Palms waged a campaign on amazon to discredit it, suggesting that I didn’t like the town or was attacking the military.  To this day, in some quarters, the controversy continues.  Yet neither assertion was true.   I have written extensively about the area, urging people to visit for example – and also have written about radical Islamic presence in the military.
 And, as I mention in the acknowledgments section of my book, I could not have written it without the help of certain Marines, who served as guides through the nooks and crannies of their world, and to this day remain good friends.  I am in awe of what they volunteer to do for our country, and I will never forget them.  Often, I think of the Marine who testified for the prosecution in the murder trial of Valentine Underwood (who received a mandatory life sentence without parole).  He had trouble speaking and he had the shakes.  It was painful for him to travel anywhere and flying across country and then heading to the courthouse in Victorville had worsened his condition.  Later he told me he had Gulf War Syndrome – a condition that the government has yet to acknowledge.  I would like those who may not know that many who enlist in the armed services do so out of honor and tradition, and this man was one of them. 
And now, back to our class system.  Violence is routine in the lives of the girls I wrote about.  It is routine in the families of some of the Marines I met along this particular trail.   Rough legacies cannot easily be shaken and it is citizens bearing such legacies who often cross paths in military towns.  Sexual assault inside the military and in military towns is not going to vanish.  It is a result, in part of these histories – and the things that do not heal the wound.   Listening to the wounded – the voiceless, the young cast-aways in military towns, the people who toil in the hold of our ship – is my task as a writer.   That’s what I learned to do in the desert, amid the Joshua trees and bobcats and ravens.  I got quiet and then a story came through and it was called Twentynine Palms.       At this time of year, on the anniversary of their deaths, I always think about the two friends who went down together as they tried to take care of each other and their friends.  RIP, Mandi and Rosie, and thank you for your service.  And thank you to all who take care of those in the military, sending them off to war and welcoming them when they return.   To some they are “the trash in town.”  To others, and all of us, they are essential.
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Published on August 06, 2013 08:57

Lisa and John Sornberger talk about Gathered Light: The Poetry of Joni Mitchell's Songs, the famous people talking about Mitchell, and why the book is about an exchange between an artist and those touched by her work








I love Joni Mitchell's work. There's something wonderfully outlawish about her. Of course, I was interested when Gathered Light came through the mail, and I quickly saw that this was not just your usual book exploring the work of an artist. No, instead, it is really a book about how art affects us personally, what we, the audience, bring to the artistry of another. It's a book about how a song can change our life. The famous, like critically acclaimed writer Wally Lamb, weigh in with how Joni impacted him . The not-so-famous share stories about how Joni's art sparked their own. The book isn't just filled with interpretations of Joni's songs; it's also brimming with poetry and stories from people inspired by Mitchell. I'm thrilled to have Lisa and John Sornberger here talking about the book.

What sparked the idea of this book? Caroline, I've loved Joni's work since I was fifteen. I wrote a high school paper on her called "Joni Mitchell: Portrait of a Poet and a Painter." It was...well- a high school paper...pretty bad, but my teacher loved it. I like thinking the idea was in the back of my mind for nearly forty years, then one day- January 1, 2011, the spark caught fire! I brought the idea to my husband and co-editor, John, and to my writers group, The Thread City Poets. Their enthusiasm fed the fire.
You’ve got everyone from Wally Lamb  To David Geffen talking about Joni Mitchell. How did you choose who you chose to comment? Did anything surprise you? A writer or other person I admire would come to mind, and I'd sit with the idea of how the person might be a fit, in terms of my criteria, in terms of what I thought might be Joni's... and if it resonated in my midline, I'd contact them. I bounced some of them off John too- his instincts are really good! Many other choices were strictly intuitive. Some who wanted to contribute couldn't due to other commitments. I firmly believed that those who were meant to be included would! And there are others I wish I'd thought to invite, in retrospect.
Did anything surprise me? Yes, absolutely. I was surprised by the willingness of the participants to respond to an unknown poet (aka me). I was surprised and moved by David Geffen’s openness when he said he loves Joni. The fully “meant to be” quality about our experience still fascinates me. Doors opened for us, and help came when we needed it. I discovered the joy of working single-mindedly for extended periods, so that Joni could be fully recognized as a serious poet, not just a singer-songwriter.  There are stories here and poems, inspired by Mitchell. Why do you think her influence is so powerful? I think her honesty, and willingness to speak her truth without reservation is key.
What I loved so much is that many of the entries are stories in and of themselves, jumpstarted by a reaction to a Mitchell song. For example, Wally Lamb writes about the tragic life of a female prisoner, someone else writes about how their life changed from hearing a song that that person felt spoke directly to them. What’s so interesting to me is that this is really what great art does: it speaks to us and it isn’t just what it brings to us that changes us, it’s what we bring to the art. How we interpret it to fit our own lives. Would you agree? 
I like your statement, Caroline, it speaks to the “rich exchange, (a phrase from Joni’s “Jericho”) involved between a great artist and those who are touched by her art. This attests to the power of Joni’s influence that you mentioned. Her poetry is such an eloquent expression of the human story.It transcends gender, race, age, religion, politics. She has an incredible gift for translating multi-sensory experience into artful, astute language. It seems to me that she makes lightning-quick connections- her senses taking in so much, then her gift of distilling her thoughts and feelings and perceptions down to universal truths.

We are drawn to the work because her truths resonate with our own. No artist would have such a huge following and wide appeal if the work was simply personal. It’s larger than that. One of our contributors, Edmond Chibeau, addresses this beautifully in his essay “California: Against Autobiography”.
I also noticed a lot of writers writing about how “the ages we wear for this world are not real”--that listening to the Mitchell songs reminds us of feelings that are universal. They show us who we really are deep inside. There’s also a whole lot pointing out the traveling themes Joni Mitchell uses, the restless nature of life. Why do you think we’re so drawn to that?   Funny, I hadn’t thought much about that “ageless” quality people wrote about, but yes, it is definitely woven throughout the book. As I think about it, it makes sense of why many of us have listened to Joni more days than not throughout our lives- her insights and ongoing exploration of emotions inspires us to go deeper, back to our most essential, timeless selves. 
I think one reason people wrote about Joni’s traveling themes and the restless nature of life is because writers and other artists are, by nature, explorers. I believe that many of us write/ create as an attempt to make sense of life, to give clarity and meaning to our experience. And when those words are shared and received, there is a genuine exchange, a sense of shared experience. Besides which, I think it would be pretty hard to write about Mitchell’s work without noting these themes- they are abundant.

Kim Addonizio says, “She knew me before I knew myself.” I think a lot of people respond to Mitchell because of the raw honesty, the way she lays herself bare.  I feel that that’s something perhaps that we are all trying to stumble toward. Do you agree? Yes. When we hear or witness someone who is brave enough to risk revealing their truth- it can free us to do the same. Don’t we all, on some level, long to express who we are at the core, to share our genuine selves, and to understand others? To know and be known… We all have our own personal stories…it’s the intersection where we meet and recognize each other that intrigues me. Is it this way for you too? Someone recently pointed out to me that it’s not just that Joni “gets” us- but that we understand her as well. As the process moved on, I was surprised and delighted to hear from Joni that this book could complete a circle- I’m paraphrasing, but it was something along the lines of sending the work out into the world,  and the sense of completeness of the communication, when one knows how it has been received, on a personal level. She said our project had such warmth, and heart, sight unseen. As she said, in the June 11, 2013 edition of the Toronto Star,“Some people like to call me a confessional songwriter. … Yes, I often begin my songs on a personal level, but I hope they go on to a bigger truth that transcends my experience. I’m not saying, ‘Look at me look at me.’ It’s the exact opposite. I’m saying, ‘Look at you, look at you. Are we not human? Do we not share these things?’ ”  I hope we have expressed that in our book. I hope she received it in that spirit.
So, of course, I have to ask: does Joni Mitchell know about this book? Has she seen it? 
She has known about it since very early on. We decided we wouldn’t write it without her sanctioning it- it seemed kind of pointless otherwise. She did so based on the concept, because it focuses on her poetry, not her personal life. At least that was the pure intent. I am afraid because it touched such deep places in people, their truths may have come close to crossing that line in some moments. I am not sure. Anyway, Joni showed her support and enthusiasm by letting us photograph one of her gorgeous paintings for the cover, and reworked her poems especially for our book.
What’s obsessing you now? Whether or not we accomplished what we set out to do. Did we show, through our collective individual responses, that Joni is an incredibly powerful poet who has affected multitudes of people? That was the point. Also, for there to be a kind of reciprocity by letting her know her gifts were deeply received, and life-changing. Does that shine through? I think about the poems that weren’t covered, and wish they had been. I may want to explore this further. Did we talk about the poems enough, or emphasize our own experience of them too much? It was challenging, to strike a balance between “heart and mind”. To whatever extent we did, I’m grateful.
What question didn’t I ask that I should have? Your questions were great- am I too intense? Is there anything else? Hoping we can talk more. Thank you for this happiness, Caroline.



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Published on August 06, 2013 08:49

Carolyn Turgeon talks about The Fairest of Them All, why the term "fairy tale ending" makes her cringe, and so much more








I first met Carolyn Turgeon at the Pulpwood Queen's Book Fest and we bonded over our love of Old Gringo boots and quickly became friends.  The Fairest of Them All turns the fairytale on its end, telling the story of how Rapunzel becomes Snow White's stepmother. It's truly a book about female empowerment and the magic of being alive, and all of it is written in diamond-quality prose. Turgeon is also the author of five spectacular novels: Rain Village; Godmother: The Secret Cinderella Story; Mermaid, which is currently being developed for film by Sony Pictures; The Next Full Moon, her first children's book. And of course, you want to read her mermaid blog at iamamermaid.com/. I asked Carolyn to write something for the blog, and I'm honored to host her here.

So, my fifth novel, The Fairest of Them All, comes out this week; it’s the story, for adults, of how Rapunzel grows up to be Snow White’s stepmother. The idea for the book came when I realized that a lot of the young lovable princesses in fairy tales are pretty much destined to become the aging evil queens we love to hate. In the world of the fairy tale, what options does a princess have when she gets older? I think we like seeing her on her wedding day, imagining that her story continues on “happily ever after” without really thinking about what that might mean for her—especially when her celebrated beauty begins to fade (beauty so intense that princes fall in love with her instantly, even when she’s locked in a tower or lying dead in a glass coffin in the forest). If aging is challenging for regular, everyday women—with rich lives full of loved ones, careers and interests and passions—what must it be like for someone like Rapunzel?

What I like to do is to inhabit, as much as possible, the hearts and minds of these ladies whose stories are in our bones, in these stories that we tell and retell. One thing I love about fairy tales is that there’s so much raw emotion buried within them. You have these complicated stories with all kinds of raging passions and very little room, traditionally, to explore them (the originals are only a few pages long, easily told around a fire, after all!). And when you put yourself in the mind of any of those older ladies, they’re not really so hard to understand. You might not be eating the hearts (or lungs and livers, depending on the version) of your younger rivals, but you might be throwing some hairbrushes at a mirror or two when they start to tell you that you’re losing it, and that that floozy Snow White is a lot more fair.

Fairy tales don’t necessarily leave a lot of room for female friendship and encouragement. Unless you’re an old fairy bestowing gifts on an infant (beauty being chief among them, of course), and even then Angelina Jolie might storm in, furious that she wasn’t invited (Angelina is playing the bad fairy in Sleeping Beauty, in a film out next summer), cursing everyone in sight. Personally, I like to find some common ground amongst women in my books. I like for rivals to come together, for godmothers and evil queens to have complicated relationships—full of love, in and amongst all that jealous rage—with those young princesses who are, after all, versions of themselves.

You might understand, then, why I actually cringe every time I hear someone talking about a “fairy tale ending”—and as a fan of the Bachelor and Bachelorette I hear that phrase a lot. Actually look at the fairy tales we’re talking about, what happens to women as they get older… I don’t really think that those are the kinds of endings we want! 
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Published on August 06, 2013 08:40

July 30, 2013

Screenwriter/producer/actress Lauren Schacher talks about writing rituals,why there needs to be more films by and about women, being a Sundance Screenwriting Lab semi-finalist and more






I first met Lauren Schacher on Twitter. I was panicking about whether or not I was going to be awarded one of the impossible-to-get Sundance Screenwriting Lab Finalist shots, exposing my fear on Twitter, when suddenly there was a tweet from Lauren, who was commiserating. We kept each other company as we waited, and we both made the finals. This year, we're doing it again. Lauren is both an actress, a producer and a screenwriter, and I'm thrilled that she's also my friend. Her film THE CANYONS releases in New York City on August 2, and you can catch it in Los Angeles August 9th. Even better, watch the TRAILER HERE on iTunes! I'm thrilled to have her here. Thank you, Lauren!

You move effortlessly from acting to screenwriting to producing (your script DREAM CATCHER was one of the coveted, Sundance Screenwriting Lab finalists last year.) Are all these logical moves, one to another? Was screenwriting something you always wanted to do? And how does acting inform the writing and the producing that you do?
I have been an actor since childhood. I can’t remember ever really wanting to do anything else aside from perhaps dancing. Technically (aka professionally), I’ve been working since 17 from Montreal to NYC, Vancouver to LA. A little over a year ago, frustrated with the state of auditions, I ended up by the grace of a few friends in the hands of Jeff Gordon at Writer’s Bootcamp in Santa Monica. I had been tinkering with a few screenplays for years, and completed one with two good friends, and yet I didn’t really know anything about structure aside from the countless scripts I’d read. My first draft of almost everything read like a play. What I learned in that classroom off Michigan Ave coupled with the support I received was enough to keep me going. I had submitted my first solo screenplay to the Sundance lab and within a few months was floored to see that they’d advanced me to the next round. Now, I can’t imagine my life without screenwriting.
Screenwriting is without a doubt one of the most difficult ventures I’ve ever attempted and yet, one of the most rewarding. Luckily, the more I do it, the more it makes sense and the more it makes sense for me as an actor. Imagine: instead of settling into the mind of just one character (acting), I’m living inside all of them. I’m creating all of them! I speak their words, think their thoughts, breathe their air; it’s an actor’s dream. I’ve often heard directors use this same reasoning to explain their penchant for their own craft. While I am very new to the scene, I’ve always had a desire to tell my own stories. Around 7 or 8, I “wrote” a play—a mish-mash of all the popular Hans Christian Andersen fairy tales—cast myself as the sole princess and all my friends as suitors, did a little publicity, and put on a play for the whole neighborhood.
As far as how I first began writing… I came two it from two directions: the first was from the standpoint of an actor.
As a young woman paving her own way in LA and not of the “mega-hot 18 TPY” (the jargon for the most desirable new clients in Hollywood… to play younger), roles are often few and far between. I, like most actor/writers, initially just wanted to write roles for myself, roles that weren’t the cookie-cutter images that I would stress over auditioning for with the rest of young NYC and LA. The role of women in Hollywood—both behind and in front of the camera—is waning; we’re in a fight or flight position. Statistically, our numbers are down from years previous and most of what remains is comprised of caricatures of women. I see the same types of women being portrayed everywhere in film and TV: the bitch, the angel, the slut, the dumb broad, the misfit, the girl next store, the crazy one—all, in a way, women who need help, who need protection, who need men to pull them out of the mire of their own lives. Surely humans need humans, but ALL women do not depend on men to give their lives purpose. One would think that in 2013, we would’ve moved away from these images. But I can tell you, as someone who goes out on these auditions and sees these roles being cast and still hears friends complaining that they need to “trim down”, to be super skinny to book anything of value, that they’re not pretty enough or hot enough, I can tell you that for as far as we’ve come in other areas, we are regressing with our representation of women. I won’t stand by and let it get worse.
*breathe* Caroline, I could talk about this for hours.
Luckily, once I started writing, even if for myself, I found the real reason that I love screenwriting: I want to be a part of the paradigm shift.
I want to bring more realistic, representative roles for women into the mainstream. I don’t pretend to be naïve enough to think this is something an unknown like me can do single-handedly. There are women doing this (Mindy Kaling, Lena Dunham, Jenji Kohan, Tina Fey, Katie Dippold, Shonda Rhimes, Geena Davis, Kristen Wiig, pretty much every woman I follow on Twitter, YOU, etc), and I want to be a part of it. There’s been a lot of attention on the topic of Women in Film lately—thank God!—and it needs to continue. The NPR article by Linda Holmes entitled “At the Movies, The Women Are Gone” beautifully shared the experience there not being ANY movies with women or about women in theatres right now where she’s living*.   This part stuck with me:
“I want to stress this again: In many, many parts of the country right now, if you want to go to see a movie in the theater and see a current movie about a woman — any story about any woman that isn't a documentary or a cartoon — you can't. You cannot. There are not any. You cannot take yourself to one, take your friend to one, take your daughter to one.”
*Note that a) the writer lives in DC, not LA or NYC, b) THE HEAT had not come out yet and c) using THE HEAT as an example of “Women in Film” is ONE example. One. One of out of 100s of movies. *
RE: Acting and how it informs writing. From theatrical training, one gains adeptness at building character from the inside out. I’m sure a lot of actor-turned writers would back me up on this. That quality is essential for good story telling: to make your story character-driven rather than plot-driven.  That being said, I spend a lot of the time asking for help. I’m certainly not afraid of it! I’m lucky to be surrounded by good friends who’ve been writing far longer than I have and generously give me feedback, advice, and even just a baseline of support.

You’re hoping to produce your next script, about “slut shaming, “which I find fascinating. How did this idea spark? What made you decide to go into the production end? And how can potential investors help?
“Slut Shaming” is a new term for something that’s been around forever. Wikipedia defines it as “the act of making a woman feel guilty or inferior for certain sexual behaviors or desires that deviate from traditional or orthodox gender expectations, or that which may be considered to be contrary to natural or supernatural/religious law.”  I think that translates more colloquially to shaming someone for her (or his) sexuality, sexual history, sexual activity, or simply just for being themselves in a sexual way. I’ll give you a few examples:
Shaming a young woman for getting herself raped is a horrific yet real-world example of slut shaming. To say it was her fault for ANY reason, that is slut shaming. In the same category is spreading a rumor about someone for having slept around or telling a young woman she needs to cover up because she looks like a “slut.” The idea being that women, of any age really, should not want to have sex, talk about it, or engage in it. Wait, I thought we were in 2013? Whether or not most people would admit to feeling this way, this is the behavior we condone in America. A friend said to me the other day during a slut-shaming conversation that “it’s not sexual unless you’re ashamed to talk about it” and I think she hit the nail on the head. Sex is a huge part of all of our lives and to deny women the opportunity to talk about it in a healthy manner from the moment of their first period all the way through and after childbirth, well in a way, that’s repressive, isn’t it? Making someone feel shame for having what are completely natural and OK thoughts? At the root of it all, I think slut shaming has become such an epidemic because we still do not have any sort of comprehensive sex education. And if we’re not talking to our kids about it and neither are the schools, then that leaves but one venue: porn. So by consequence, are we, America, condoning pornography as the best resource for sexual education? Isn’t that sort of mind-blowing?
I think sex should be something we can learn to talk about in a healthy way and start when we’re first thinking about it: high school.
The idea for Daily’s first arose with my sister Sarah as we strolled from her apartment on the Lower East Side of Manhattan for a yoga class. I was crashing with her as I’d just moved from NYC to LA and we were getting some much-needed sister bonding time. Sarah and I have always openly talked about sex. Our mother talked to me openly when I was just a kid and as a result, I shared everything with my kid sister. We’ve never been shy about it or felt like bad people for being sexually active but that doesn’t mean that we too weren’t sexually shamed. [My first year of high school I found out some senior girls had spread sexual rumors about me because I was chesty. The news (and attention) crushed me.] Sarah and I were discussing that many women we knew—in their 20s—were still scared to openly talk about sex. Adult women! Were they having sex? Yes. But they didn’t feel it was appropriate to talk about. And so we brainstormed and I wrote this film about which I’m now completely obsessed.
As far as producing goes… I’m working with a producer right now and simultaneously looking for more producers. We’re both new to the game but have what we think is a major topic on our hands. I feel blessed that someone such as herself is excited by what I’m working on and wants to help and I think she would say (were she here to speak up) that she’s excited to be a part of something that needs to be said.
Thus far, I have a fabulous soon-to-be-a-star actress whom I greatly admire attached as well as an increasing number of people want to help out in various ways, many of them not yet defined. One of those people is, as I’ve dubbed her, the current face of slut-shaming, Katelyn Campbell [former senior at George Washington High school in West Virginia who spoke up about the abstinence controversy and was simultaneously featured on 20/20, CNN, etc]. We spoke recently about her plight and the film. She’s an incredible example of a young woman who did stand up to the sexual bigotry and got tremendous backlash for it and finally tremendous respect.
As far as How can Investors help?...They can invest! This is certainly going to be a low-budget indie, but even low-budget these days is a pretty penny. The topic is ripe and I think vital, and the story is both darkly comedic and sexy to boot. Like Tina Fey masterfully sugarcoated her message of girls being each other’s worst enemies with MEAN GIRLS, I think we can do that with slut shaming and DAILYS. Let’s talk about sex.
What kinds of themes and issue interest you?

I love simple human stories …and as soon as I wrote that, I cringed thinking of how many articles I read where writers talk about “the human condition.”
Relationships, love, loss, death, heartache: all simple topics and yet all but lost among the big budget films these days. The irony here of course is how many of us love the same topic and yet where are these movies? I’d venture to say that the general American population is also yearning for “human” stories and is tiring, whether they know it or not, of the same explosion-sodden franchise films. Perhaps this is already evident in this summer’s “flops” (i.e. R.I.P.D. , LONE RANGER, AFTER EARTH, etc all flops by Hollywood standards despite opening weekends of $12-27 million each). However, unless these “genre” style films do really well, studios aren’t going to budge on their money-making schemes. SO. That being said, we just have to keep promoting the indie market! Go to the Sundance Cinemas! Go see indie films on opening weekends!
What’s your life like and how do you manage writing/acting/producing all at once? 
Because I’m not a household name or even a Twitter-name, I still have a day job (two, actually). I teach yoga and tutor children, both of which are wonderful jobs that I’m lucky to have. In between those hours, I literally spend all of my time either writing, auditioning, or squeezing in time with friends and boyfriend. It is as exhausting as it sounds but I’m quite happy doing it all.

What kind of writer are you? Do you have rituals? Do you share your work in a group or go it alone?
I do! Ha. And it kills me, as Holden Caulfield would say, because I always wondered how writers did it. I set aside full days of writing. I won’t see anyone during the hours I set, I don’t leave the house, I delete Facebook and Twitter apps from my phone and open ‘Self-Control’ on my computer to prevent me from accessing those sites… and then I write. And I write for hours. I write until it’s too dark to stay focused or I have to leave or get in some exercise. And perhaps more importantly, I try not to judge myself on what I’ve accomplished. As I said, I’m very new to this (two years in), and thus I’m very open to criticism. I happily send out my work, terrified but eager for feedback, and then I do what I can. I recently joined a writers’ group and am thrilled to have a regular group of professionals with whom I share my words and from whom I can learn.

What’s obsessing you now and why?
Women in Film. We could do a whole separate blog about this.

What question didn’t I ask that I should have?
If you booked a career-changing role, would you give up writing? I’ve gotten this question a few times recently and the resounding answer is heeelllll no. I feel so blessed to have discovered this for myself and I’m never stopping. 
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Published on July 30, 2013 07:46