Lisa Lenard-Cook's Blog

After You Type “The End”

How long have you been working on your book? Months? Years? How many revisions and rewrites have you gone through along the way? Probably dozens, if not hundreds.

Which is why there’s something bittersweet about typing “the end.”

Sure, typing those two words feels wonderful. You did it. You finished your book. You likely will want to get up to pour the drink of your choice—maybe a special latte if it’s morning, that single malt if it’s later in the day. “I finished!” you tell your partner, your kids, your parents, your friends. “I just finished a book!” you tell the UPS person, the supermarket checkout clerk, the driver with his window down in the car next to you at the red light. You should be proud. Finishing a book means you started with a picture in your head and translated that picture into words on the page. I’m proud of you!

And yet… The end. Finis. It’s over. Baby, bye-bye. Every day for the past XX months (or years), you’ve sat down at your desk and opened that file. You’ve lived with Dick and Jane and Spot and Tiger as if they were real people (and dogs and cats)—which, to you, they were. Now they’re gone, and you’re left with… you.

I’ve often said that I’m a very dull person. All I do is sit in a room all day, making things up. Stuff—both good and bad—happens to other people. My life, to cite my favorite author quote, from Gustave Flaubert, is “regular and orderly.”

Ah, but there’s the second half of that quote to consider: “Be regularly and orderly in your life so that you may be violent and original in your work.” That’s why those who aren’t writers find us so fascinating: They sense that violent originality. They know we may present a quiet façade, but inside we’re teeming maelstroms of chaos.

Which is why, when we type “the end,” we feel so empty. This particular teeming maelstrom of chaos has been tamed. No more jumping the fence. No more chasing rabbits. For that one moment after we type “the end,” we’re merely regular and orderly.

But then we pick ourselves up again. I try to go out the day after I write a book to start catching up on all the errands I put off as I raced for the finish. Today is such a day, because I finished a novel yesterday, but it’s cold and windy and wet. This is Albuquerque, so tomorrow will be a better day, and I’ll venture out then. Today I’m catching up on postponed to-do’s: update website; update FB page; update Amazon page; update mailing list; write a new blog post…

Yes, I’m still left with that bittersweet feeling. I’ve sent the manuscript to my agent, so I really can offer a toast to its completion, but it’s all right to feel bereft, too. After all, I’ve just said goodbye to my best friend of the past year.

I’ll just have to make up a new one.

Back to Our Irregularly Scheduled Blog

I’ve been sick.

That’s an understatement. I’ve been really sick–primary peritoneal cancer aka PPC. I was diagnosed December 18, 2014, began chemo January 5, 2015, was in the hospital in early February for a blockage & again in mid-March for surgery, & had my sixth & final chemo May 26th. Now I’m in remission. That, believe me, is the short version.

Now, I’m getting back to my life: finishing my novel, writing a couple of book proposals, editing, coaching, teaching, seeing friends, gardening, walking the dogs, & traveling. And starting the blog again.

So what would you like me to blog about? Please let me know. Time, I’ve learned, is precious, & I want to write what readers want to hear about. Please let me know via the comments section below.

I’m happy to be back!

Pay It Forward Author Catherine Ryan Hyde Interview

What a delight it was to correspond with Pay It Forward Author Catherine Ryan Hyde about Dissonance for her Better Than Blurbs blog. Our free-ranging discussion covered everything from the book’s reissue by Santa Fe Writers Project to writing about especially difficult subjects. I’ll be returning the favor when I interview Catherine for an upcoming issue of The Delphi Quarterly.

Thanks-giving

Today, our world—our country—is neither what we hope or desire. I’m sure, like me, you imagined a more peaceful and enlightened world in your future.

Writers can’t simply observe, as we imagine others (whom we sometimes envy) must. Instead, we must transliterate experience into language. It’s how we make sense of the world, especially a world gone so painfully awry.

This post originally began far differently. I almost chose not to post it at all. But if it’s true collective change begins with the individual, then I do want to begin here, in joy, and in gratitude.

Four Joys of Being a Midlist Writer Well Past Midway on Her Journey

Readers. When my first novel was published in 2003, I had a modest goal—I wanted my words to connect with one person I didn’t know. After that happened, I set a more ambitious goal—ten people, and then 100. These eleven years later, I know I’ve touched countless readers, because they write and let me know. This is the magic of writing: I translate something in my head into words, and then a reader translates those words back into something in her head. Knowing that someone somewhere is not only reading but feeling a connection because of my words is both humbling and thrilling.

Mentoring, coaching, teaching, and editing. Helping writers committed to their work—those who understand that revision and rewriting are as much a part of the process as that first draft—has been one of the great joys of my career. And seeing so many of those writers’ stories, novels, and memoirs published reminds me daily that this midwifery matters.

The publishing professionals. Colleagues who remind me it’s the work that matters. Those like publisher Andrew Gifford, publicist Mary Bisbee-Beek, producer Lee Ann Chearneyi, conference director Nicole Starczak, and agent Andy Ross, who make magic in the trenches. It’s one thing to be a word-seeker. It’s quite another to have a posse who carry those words to readers.

The writing itself. As Mark Doty notes in The Art of Description, “It’s what I do, the nature of my attention, the signature of my selfhood: finding the words.” When a writer sits down and enters a world she’s imagined, the “desire [Doty, again]…[t]o find words…commensurate with the clamoring world” is what drives me—what drives us. Writers are compelled to translate experience into words. It’s what we do. It’s who we are. And I’m grateful that I can.

Happy Thanksgiving. And thank you.

Just Breathe

This is the first morning in over four months I’ve sat here at my desk without a to-do list that rolls out the door, a packed suitcase, or a book launch event (mine, and others’). Yes, the final bosaue 4 proof will arrive today or tomorrow. Yes, one of my critique groups meets this afternoon. Yes, the manuscripts I’m editing are still on my desktop. And yes, my own novel-in-progress, Dear Lucia, is waiting for its turn. But for this one brief moment, I can breathe. Just breathe.

Breathe in: All who’ve come up to me, emailed, messaged, Facebooked, tweeted (etc.) to tell me how much they love Dissonance, and how happy they are that SFWP has reissued the book. All who’ve passed the book on to others. All who’ve bought copies for friends and family. All who’ve recommended it to their book groups.

Breathe out: A miscommunication that led me to believe I’d be returning to the Taos Writers Conference next summer. I won’t.

Breathe in: Time with Bob, in both Austin and Washington, a rare and valuable commodity.

Breathe out: Poor old Mr. Bones’ dementia, which means after each sentence, I must get up & either let him out or let him in (those who ask if I can’t simply ignore him have never heard Mr. Bones’ bark).

Breathe in: This endless gorgeous fall—the deep blue sky, the spectacle of leaves, the voices of the cranes overhead, the tomatoes that just keep coming and the roses that continue to bloom (including this one, on my desk now).

Breathe out: The petty demands, the aches and pains, the endless maintenance of an old house, the food shopping, the laundry, the cleaning…

Breathe in: My friends, my family, my dogs, my beautiful home in the peaceful far North Valley of Albuquerque, the bosque, the river. My life.

Thank you. Namaste.

The Red Shoes Award

Last week, we awarded the Red Shoes Award to Jennifer Simpson, who wrote so eloquently about receiving the award, I decided to make her my guest blogger this week, & link to her blog.

Next week, I hope to get back to my regular blogging schedule. Please check back!

September 2014 Newsletter

I have always spent most of my time staring out the window. –Joyce Carol Oates

DISSONANCE reissued!

This month, eleven years after it was first released by UNM Press, Dissonance: A Novel is being reissued by Santa Fe Writers Project in paperback and e-versions. You can read an interview with Gillion Dumas, Rose City Reader here. Then, I hope you can join me at one of these venues, where I’ll talk about the seeds for the novel and how it came to be reissued. I’d love to see you!

September 7th          3:00 pm          Bookworks                 Albuquerque

Dissonance launch at my home bookstore

September 13th          2:00 pm          Placitas Community Library          Placitas

While this isn’t about the launch, it’s been scheduled for ages, and is well worth attending if you’re working on memoir, because Lynn C. Miller and I offer a workshop called Find Your Story. The materials fee includes a signed copy of our book Find Your Story, Write Your Memoir. And yes, copies of Dissonance will be available, too.

September 14th        2:00 pm          Garcia Street Books            Santa Fe

Dissonance talk & signing at my other home bookstore

September 16th          Noon               Albuquerque Chapter of Hadassah

In a past life, I was president of this chapter. Today, I’ll return to talk about the seeds of Dissonance.

September 16th          7:00 pm          Southwest Writers   Albuquerque

How did my old book find a new publisher? Tonight, I’ll reveal the answer.

October 7th                 7:00 pm          Bookwoman               Austin

Sister SFWP author Charlotte Gullick hosts a talk about Dissonance on her home turf

October 25th               7:00 pm          SFWP Fall Launch Party     Silver Spring

Andrew’s throwing a party for his fall list at Jackie’s in Silver Spring, and I hear it’s quite the bash. If you’re in the DC area, please join us!

Other Cool Stuff

The Vessel recently published one of my poems.

Delphi Quarterly will publish an interview about Dissonance in its fall issue.

Pay It Forward author Catherine Ryan Hyde will interview me in her October “Better Than Blurbs” blog.

Looking for my books? My first recommendation is always your favorite local indy bookstore. (Mine is Bookworks in Albuquerque.) Other favorites include Under Charlie’s Covers and Home at the Range in Bernalillo, Garcia Street Books and Collected Works in Santa Fe, Maria’s in Durango, Changing Hands in Tempe, Chaucer’s in Santa Barbara, A Clean Well-Lighted Place in Corte Madera and San Francisco, Kepler’s in Menlo Park, Talking Leaves in Buffalo, and Tattered Cover in Denver. You also can order my books directly through my website. If you’re looking for a signed copy, whether for yourself or as a gift, please email me.

A prospective client recently asked how many of my editing/coaching clients have been published. I was stunned to realize the answer is 100%. I’m very proud of my clients—you can find links to their websites on mine. If you’ve written, rewritten, & revised to the point where it’s time for an editor or coach, please email me. I’d love to help you complete the process.

If you’ve read this far, you deserve a writing prompt. So grab a pen or open a new document, and, without further thought, explore the following: Woulda, coulda—we’re so good at what we want to say or what we should have said. For this exercise, imagine either a conversation you’re dreading, or one you’ve already had that you wish had gone differently. Write it the way you wish it would go, or had gone. Ready? Begin.

I love feedback, so please don’t hesitate to email me with comments or suggestions. Happy September!

xo ~L

The Lonely Writer’s Companion: So Long, Farewell…

It’s hard to believe The Lonely Writer has been answering your questions about writing for three years. Because the Lonely Writer is a tidy and organized person who loves symmetry, she’s decided that this particular landmark is the perfect time to say goodbye, in order to devote more time to—yes—her own writing. That’s why this month’s question seemed a particularly good choice.

Question: After last month’s column about how to make a living as a writer, I’d love to hear about a day in the life of The Lonely Writer. – Susan, Springfield MO

The Lonely Writer responds: Several months ago The Lonely Writer led a writing workshop with another writer she’d never met. The students asked us questions, and we each offered our answers. Our very different answers, as it turned out. The Other Writer not only detailed his routine, he suggested that anyone who didn’t follow his routine was doomed to failure.

The Lonely Writer thought—but did not say—how lovely it must be to be a man, to not have children & laundry & food shopping & feeding the dogs & calling the tree guy & arranging for the housepainter & balancing the checkbook &&& to attend to in addition to one’s Writing (initial cap intentional). Yes, The Lonely Writer began this month’s column by calling herself a tidy and organized person who loves symmetry, but as much as she intends for her days to follow a routine (a routine that includes time for her own writing), her old demented dog will wake her far too early, or a relative will need her help, or she will have half a dozen thank you notes to write, or she’s out-of-town working at a writers’ conference, or, or, or.

Today is the first day since The Lonely Writer got back from three weeks of travel that included a visit to her mother in Southern California, the Santa Barbara Writers’ Conference, and time in San Francisco with her daughter, that she’s sat down at her desk after breakfast to tackle the accumulated emails. After scrolling through them all, clever Lonely Writer made a new folder in her mail program called Follow-up and moved all but the pressing emails into it. Then she answered the two dozen that required immediate attention (and generated another half dozen of her own of necessity), read the news headlines, and checked her to-do list, where she found her deadline for this column lurking.

So instead of finishing up the edit of the memoir she’d planned first thing this morning (and we’re long past first thing; it’s now 10:45), she opened a new file and scrolled through this month’s questions to find one she wanted to answer.

Once again, The Lonely Writer has not yet done her yoga or meditation. She has not walked the dogs (although they do have a lovely fenced half acre). She has not written the thank you notes she should have written yesterday. She has not balanced the ABQ Writers Co-op checkbook or called the tree guy or emailed the next person in her editing queue or researched travel to Austin and D.C., where she has book events this fall, or emailed the agent she met in Santa Barbara, or (note how far down the list we are!) written a new chapter in her novel, even though she composed it in her head while on the road. But she will get to those things today. Really. She will.

The Lonely Writer remains committed to helping other writers—she just had to make some adjustments so she can find time for that new novel. And so it is that this column comes to an end. If you want to continue to follow her adventures, be sure to check her website, www.lisalenardcook.com. And please—keep writing. Be assured that The Lonely Writer is here at her desk, cheering you on.

The Lonely Writer’s Companion: Can You Make a Living as a Writer?

Welcome to The Lonely Writer’s Companion. The format’s simple: You send in your questions, and each month I’ll select one to answer. Email your questions c/o dbooth@authorlink.com. (Be sure to put “Question for The Lonely Writer’s Companion” in the subject line.) You can also contact me through my website, www.lisalenardcook.com.

Question: This month’s question comes from Josh in Denver: Can you make a living as a writer?

The Lonely Writer responds: Can I make a living as a writer? As a matter of fact, I can. But it’s not from what you would think. The majority of my income comes not from writing, but from editing, ghosting, coaching, and teaching.

For one thing, we writers don’t charge enough. In fact, often we don’t charge at all. I’ve been writing this column and its predecessor for over ten years but am not paid to do so. (Why do I keep on doing it? I ask myself that every month when I sit down to write a new one. The answer is that I like helping other writers.) The Huffington Post is notorious for not paying its writers, but because appearing there can be a stepping stone to paying gigs, most just hang on their day jobs and submit there anyway.

To compound this problem, few smaller presses can offer advances anymore. The plus side of this is that we start earning royalties as soon as our books start to sell. The big if is whether they will sell. I’m lucky—all of my early books, which had advances, have earned out, and I’ve gotten royalties for my more recent ones, which weren’t offered advances, as well. At the same time, we’re expected to pay fees to enter writing contests (as a literary magazine editor, I can tell you those fees barely cover expenses), do our own marketing, and, almost always, pay for our own travel to book events.

It’s taken me over twenty years to establish my bona fides as a book editor, conference speaker and teacher, writing coach, and, more recently, literary ghost, and yes, as a writer. All of my work comes to me by referral, so I don’t to advertise or go looking for it. Would I love to make enough from writing to leave all those other gigs behind? That’s a two-part question, with a two-part answer. Yes, I love to make enough from my writing, but no, I wouldn’t leave it all behind. I love teaching writing. I love speaking and teaching at conferences. I love coaching. Ghosting and editing I love a little less, so, if my writing were to suddenly earn me some real money, I’d probably give those up—especially as they take up so much of my own writing time.

But I think your real question, Josh, is if you can make a living as a writer. My answer to that is yes, if you’re willing to work in the trenches rather than pose as an auteur. You may spend years waiting tables, typing others’ business correspondence, toting that barge and lifting that bale, or even reading slush pile manuscripts, before others start seeking your editorial assistance. But if you study your craft, if you’re willing to revise and rewrite as well as get those first bursts of inspiration on the page, then ultimately, you will have the creds to cobble together an existence similar to mine. And maybe, if the stars are aligned just so, you’ll be the next breakout author, and will never go hungry again.

 

The Sue Grafton Project: E is for Evidence

So far I’ve managed not to coopt Sue Grafton’s titles for my posts, but this month I couldn’t resist. because when it comes to Grafton’s mysteries, those sticks and stones in Kinsey Millhone’s path eventually add up to Whodunit.

So let’s start with Grafton’s book of the same title, E is for Evidence. This is the one that opens when Kinsey opens her mail one morning to find that someone has deposited a mysterious $5000, which, in the 1980s, was a big hill of beans. That same day, Kinsey is handed a rush case file from California Fidelity to investigate a warehouse fire. As it’s still Chapter 1, readers know that both the money and the investigation are important. The question is, are they connected?

In her usual dogged way, Kinsey ferrets out a story, but in this case, it’s not easy. The warehouse stored paper, but there was no evidence of arson, so why the rush? When she goes to see the president of the company that owned the warehouse, he seems to be avoiding her, finally disappearing entirely. After a brother-in-law takes her to the warehouse, Kinsey detects an odor she can’t identify during the course of a three-hour investigation. But by now it’s so close to Christmas, she’ll have to wait to learn more.

And so it goes, Kinsey following each tiny scrap of evidence until it leads to another. In B is for Burglar, only the second book in the series but nonetheless so accomplished that it cemented the deal for readers who’d gotten hooked on A is for Alibi, Kinsey’s hired to track a wealthy widow who disappeared on a flight from Santa Teresa to Boca Raton, Florida. The evidence in this case includes another arson (a house this time), a mysterious fur coat, and the death of someone close to the missing woman. Kinsey trots to Florida and back, but in the end, she finds the evidence she needs very close to home.

I don’t have a favorite among Grafton’s books, but I have to say N is for Noose had me turning pages far into the night. For one thing, Kinsey’s not in Santa Teresa, but in the Sierra foothills, trying to learn if foul play had anything to do with the Nota Lake sheriff’s heart attack, so she’s staying in the Nota Lake Cabins, where there’s so much danger in the night, Psycho would be comic relief. But while everyone in that town has something to hide, Kinsey must uncover evidence that will point to someone who literally scared the sheriff to death.

Evidence in the Alphabet Series comes in every form, from kitty litter to unexpected packages. Sometimes it’s learning someone’s hours at a café, or bus schedules, or that someone was once in prison. Sometimes—often, in fact—the killer is so close to the victim, even Kinsey doesn’t see it until it’s almost too late. When you read Grafton’s books as a writer, you notice the steady accumulation of evidence, how each seemingly inconsequential thing leads to the next—a plane ticket to a stopover; a recording to a radio studio; a truck to its owner. It’s one thing to simply accumulate clues. It’s another to tell a great story at the same time. Grafton’s evidence does just that.

Next month, the Sue Grafton Project will look at F, for First Person. I hope you’ll join me.