Katey Schultz's Blog, page 28
April 4, 2013
The Power of Aspirations
I've been spending a lot of time thinking about aspirations, or, what I consider to be a mindset that involves a balance between goal-setting and honest intentions. An aspiration is practical and attainable, but sometimes also outside the sphere of anything we've previously imagined for ourselves. As Memorial Day 2013 (book launch day) grows near, I'm facing some surprising realizations about my own attitudes toward the writing life.
For instance, while I believe I'll be able to look back and say that I did everything within my power to help Flashes of War make its mark, I'm similarly inclined to believe that I won't necessarily ever "make it big" as a writer. I always tell people I want to be respected and known, but not necessarily famous. Or that I'm fine making "enough" money, but I rarely confess that I would have plenty of things to do if I suddenly found myself with "more than enough," for once. It's an odd psychology, and while I consider myself pretty confident, I also have to admit that part of me is afraid to dream of huge success because it feels so far out of my hands.
But it isn't. Or doesn't have to be. There is so much power in aspiring for something...so many unseen and immeasurable forces at hand in the Universe. Call it higher power, call it auspiciousness, call it coincidence, call it karma. Whatever you call it, I do believe that our thoughts directly impact our future. Recently, I stumbled across an old blog post of mine from July 7th, 2009. This was written just a few months before I'd put my life on the road for three years, though I had no idea at the time what was in store for me. Here is what I wrote from the epic house up on Roan Mountain:
Some days, I dream of a bus. On this bus are my favorite books, a Mac Airbook with uninterrupted Internet access, and a handful of my best writing buddies. We also have Encyclopedias, an array of field guides, and fantastic cameras. The bus is equipped with go-go-Gadget inflatable tires (for crossing large bodies of water) and has a biodiesel jetpack for whizzing past traffic jams. It also has multiple built-in espresso machines and French presses, with a lifelong supply of Coffee People Coffee’s Huehuetenago Guatemalan medium roast beans. On this bus there are occasional visits from Bob Dylan, Andrew Bird, Eddie Vedder, Sonic Youth, Stephen Malkmus, and Josh Ritter. Scratch that—Josh Ritter often spends the night on the bus.
Other days, I dream of the city. It’s a big city but I live high, high up. I have a quiet place to write even though the world below is very loud and busy all of the time. I am not quite as tormented as Joan Didion and certainly not as unfortunate, but I am almost as respected. I am no longer hypersensitive to sound. I have a husband who comes home and everything is very domestic but it doesn’t smell like plastic and it doesn’t make me feel numb. We laugh about the fact that I used to pee in a bucket and live on a mountain by myself, half a mile from my nearest neighbor (a hound dog named Little Sam, no less).
Long-time followers of The Writing Life Blog know that I didn't exactly get a cool bus to ride in...but I did get a Volvo station wagon named THE CLAW that crossed the country three times and took me to all sorts of epic places, including to the homes and schools of many-a-writing friend. And I didn't get Josh Ritter to spend the night, but I did see him a few times in concert (and Andrew Bird). And of course, now, I live in a 1970 Airstream. Not a superbus, but perhaps even better.
Regarding that second paragraph, the husband still doesn't exist but I do have a sweetheart and while we're both still pretty darn granola-crunchy, we can also dress up for a good night out and appear rather "domestic." As for plastic, interestingly enough, I made a New Year's Resolution to go an entire year without accepting a single plastic bag at checkout, anywhere, at any time. And I'm not tortured like Joan Didion, but I certainly lose my fair share of sleep over anxieties large and small as part of entering what I lovingly refer to as First Book Land. Whether or not I attain such respect remains to be seen, but what's the harm in aspiring for it?
No harm. Clearly, no harm at all.
For instance, while I believe I'll be able to look back and say that I did everything within my power to help Flashes of War make its mark, I'm similarly inclined to believe that I won't necessarily ever "make it big" as a writer. I always tell people I want to be respected and known, but not necessarily famous. Or that I'm fine making "enough" money, but I rarely confess that I would have plenty of things to do if I suddenly found myself with "more than enough," for once. It's an odd psychology, and while I consider myself pretty confident, I also have to admit that part of me is afraid to dream of huge success because it feels so far out of my hands.
But it isn't. Or doesn't have to be. There is so much power in aspiring for something...so many unseen and immeasurable forces at hand in the Universe. Call it higher power, call it auspiciousness, call it coincidence, call it karma. Whatever you call it, I do believe that our thoughts directly impact our future. Recently, I stumbled across an old blog post of mine from July 7th, 2009. This was written just a few months before I'd put my life on the road for three years, though I had no idea at the time what was in store for me. Here is what I wrote from the epic house up on Roan Mountain:
Some days, I dream of a bus. On this bus are my favorite books, a Mac Airbook with uninterrupted Internet access, and a handful of my best writing buddies. We also have Encyclopedias, an array of field guides, and fantastic cameras. The bus is equipped with go-go-Gadget inflatable tires (for crossing large bodies of water) and has a biodiesel jetpack for whizzing past traffic jams. It also has multiple built-in espresso machines and French presses, with a lifelong supply of Coffee People Coffee’s Huehuetenago Guatemalan medium roast beans. On this bus there are occasional visits from Bob Dylan, Andrew Bird, Eddie Vedder, Sonic Youth, Stephen Malkmus, and Josh Ritter. Scratch that—Josh Ritter often spends the night on the bus.
Other days, I dream of the city. It’s a big city but I live high, high up. I have a quiet place to write even though the world below is very loud and busy all of the time. I am not quite as tormented as Joan Didion and certainly not as unfortunate, but I am almost as respected. I am no longer hypersensitive to sound. I have a husband who comes home and everything is very domestic but it doesn’t smell like plastic and it doesn’t make me feel numb. We laugh about the fact that I used to pee in a bucket and live on a mountain by myself, half a mile from my nearest neighbor (a hound dog named Little Sam, no less).
Long-time followers of The Writing Life Blog know that I didn't exactly get a cool bus to ride in...but I did get a Volvo station wagon named THE CLAW that crossed the country three times and took me to all sorts of epic places, including to the homes and schools of many-a-writing friend. And I didn't get Josh Ritter to spend the night, but I did see him a few times in concert (and Andrew Bird). And of course, now, I live in a 1970 Airstream. Not a superbus, but perhaps even better.
Regarding that second paragraph, the husband still doesn't exist but I do have a sweetheart and while we're both still pretty darn granola-crunchy, we can also dress up for a good night out and appear rather "domestic." As for plastic, interestingly enough, I made a New Year's Resolution to go an entire year without accepting a single plastic bag at checkout, anywhere, at any time. And I'm not tortured like Joan Didion, but I certainly lose my fair share of sleep over anxieties large and small as part of entering what I lovingly refer to as First Book Land. Whether or not I attain such respect remains to be seen, but what's the harm in aspiring for it?
No harm. Clearly, no harm at all.
April 1, 2013
The Importance of Readers
The first draft of The Longest Day of the Year has officially been sitting in the drawer for one month. Well...I should clarify. I pulled one copy out of the drawer and mailed it to a grad school friend in Oregon. The other copy traveled from the drawer, up the hill, to my parent's house--and has gone from my father's close reading to my mother's. A "third," digital copy has been emailed to a nonfiction author that recently retired to Western North Carolina and offered to critique my work. And a "forth," digital copy will be emailed to Alaska in two weeks, when a respected reader and fellow writer there will have at it.
One of the most important things we can do as writers is entrust our work in the hands of others. All kinds of readers--close readers, fast readers, readers who prefer one kind of fiction over another, non-writer readers, professional editors, all of them--have something to offer by way of his or her unique experience reading the work. It's tempting to send my 4 readers a list of questions to consider as they read, but I've decided to save my questions for after they've seen the work. I want them to have the experience I can never have, that is, of picking up the novel as if to enjoy a long, well-written book...and then, of course, telling me how they really experienced things.
It's far from perfect. There will be inconsistencies and plot points that don't add up. There will be times when the reader gets frustrated or confused. Other times, disappointed. But I want to know, from a clean slate perspective, where those issues arise out of the natural experience of reading for each individual. For my readers who are also writers, I want to know why they think such issues arose and to discuss options for revision. It's like being a scientist that collects data. I can think whatever I want about it after the collecting is done, but beforehand, I've got to do everything within my power to create objective circumstances if I want honest results.
The draft has one more month of freedom. Come May, I'll be chomping at the bit to have at it!
One of the most important things we can do as writers is entrust our work in the hands of others. All kinds of readers--close readers, fast readers, readers who prefer one kind of fiction over another, non-writer readers, professional editors, all of them--have something to offer by way of his or her unique experience reading the work. It's tempting to send my 4 readers a list of questions to consider as they read, but I've decided to save my questions for after they've seen the work. I want them to have the experience I can never have, that is, of picking up the novel as if to enjoy a long, well-written book...and then, of course, telling me how they really experienced things.
It's far from perfect. There will be inconsistencies and plot points that don't add up. There will be times when the reader gets frustrated or confused. Other times, disappointed. But I want to know, from a clean slate perspective, where those issues arise out of the natural experience of reading for each individual. For my readers who are also writers, I want to know why they think such issues arose and to discuss options for revision. It's like being a scientist that collects data. I can think whatever I want about it after the collecting is done, but beforehand, I've got to do everything within my power to create objective circumstances if I want honest results.
The draft has one more month of freedom. Come May, I'll be chomping at the bit to have at it!
March 28, 2013
Inspiring English Teachers
Readers, please note: The Goodreads Giveaway for Flashes of War has officially begun. Enter to win one of two free, advance copies! Now through April 27th.
In high school, I had an English teacher whose reputation preceded her. Word in the hallowed halls of Wilson High School was that she held high expectations, made students laugh, and didn't let anyone off the hook easily. But there's more to it than that. Apparently, this teacher's expectations weren't always stated. Sure, she told students to try their best, but, what did that mean? (It meant something different for each student, though there's no way I could have articulated that at the time.) And this teacher did make her students laugh, but not because she was funny. She was startling--her honesty, her passion, her dedicated focus. To a classroom full of sixteen-year-olds, these unapologetic qualities felt humorous because we'd never quite seen anything like them before. Especially not in a teacher. Finally, when she backed a student into an intellectual or disciplinary corner, it wasn't by intimidation or humiliation tactics. It was simply by the sheer fact that all of us--every single student who stepped through her classroom door--wanted desperately to deserve this teacher's respect. When we fell short, she caught us and made a point to let us know.
Of course, this teacher did respect us...that's the whole point. By virtue of the very fact that she expected nothing less than our best, she respected not only who we were but who she knew we could become. And in doing so, she gave us permission to be our best. In a world where Kurt Cobain could shoot his face off and where Matthew Shepard would very soon be brutally murdered...In a world where a blow job could bring down a Presidency and school shootings were fast becoming "regular" national news...there were a lot of reasons to feel confused. But through all of this, our English teacher gave us plenty more reasons to work hard and do our best.
It's difficult to put it all into words...(especially now, just after midnight, returning home from a slam-bam 7-hour waitressing shift and all the tattered-jeans-memories of my life as a high school grunge rocker slamming around in my brain)...but what I mean to say is: there are people in our lives who we will never forget, even if we never see them again. Until this week, this English teacher was one of those people. But as soon as my comp copies of Flashes of War arrived, I knew I had to get in touch with my old high school and start the search for this English teacher. She'd long since retired, but the alumni director had her email address and--voila--within just a few hours, I'd received a message from my former teacher. I asked her for her postal address so that I could send her a copy of the book, which mentions her in the acknowledgments.
And as small worlds go, it turns out that she and I had both participated in the same writer's retreat at Imnaha over the years...just during different weeks, and therefore missing each other by only a sliver. She'd even stayed in the same room I'd stayed in when working on Flashes of War back in 2011. And two weeks from now, she's headed back down to Imnaha for another writing retreat. If all goes as planned with the US Postal Service, she'll have Flashes of War in time for her journey down into the canyon. My book in my teacher's hands. My book down into the canyon where some of the stories were first drafted. My book bringing me back to the very person who planted the seeds for the writing life in me so many years ago. Amazing, how life bends back on itself!
In high school, I had an English teacher whose reputation preceded her. Word in the hallowed halls of Wilson High School was that she held high expectations, made students laugh, and didn't let anyone off the hook easily. But there's more to it than that. Apparently, this teacher's expectations weren't always stated. Sure, she told students to try their best, but, what did that mean? (It meant something different for each student, though there's no way I could have articulated that at the time.) And this teacher did make her students laugh, but not because she was funny. She was startling--her honesty, her passion, her dedicated focus. To a classroom full of sixteen-year-olds, these unapologetic qualities felt humorous because we'd never quite seen anything like them before. Especially not in a teacher. Finally, when she backed a student into an intellectual or disciplinary corner, it wasn't by intimidation or humiliation tactics. It was simply by the sheer fact that all of us--every single student who stepped through her classroom door--wanted desperately to deserve this teacher's respect. When we fell short, she caught us and made a point to let us know.
Of course, this teacher did respect us...that's the whole point. By virtue of the very fact that she expected nothing less than our best, she respected not only who we were but who she knew we could become. And in doing so, she gave us permission to be our best. In a world where Kurt Cobain could shoot his face off and where Matthew Shepard would very soon be brutally murdered...In a world where a blow job could bring down a Presidency and school shootings were fast becoming "regular" national news...there were a lot of reasons to feel confused. But through all of this, our English teacher gave us plenty more reasons to work hard and do our best.
It's difficult to put it all into words...(especially now, just after midnight, returning home from a slam-bam 7-hour waitressing shift and all the tattered-jeans-memories of my life as a high school grunge rocker slamming around in my brain)...but what I mean to say is: there are people in our lives who we will never forget, even if we never see them again. Until this week, this English teacher was one of those people. But as soon as my comp copies of Flashes of War arrived, I knew I had to get in touch with my old high school and start the search for this English teacher. She'd long since retired, but the alumni director had her email address and--voila--within just a few hours, I'd received a message from my former teacher. I asked her for her postal address so that I could send her a copy of the book, which mentions her in the acknowledgments.
And as small worlds go, it turns out that she and I had both participated in the same writer's retreat at Imnaha over the years...just during different weeks, and therefore missing each other by only a sliver. She'd even stayed in the same room I'd stayed in when working on Flashes of War back in 2011. And two weeks from now, she's headed back down to Imnaha for another writing retreat. If all goes as planned with the US Postal Service, she'll have Flashes of War in time for her journey down into the canyon. My book in my teacher's hands. My book down into the canyon where some of the stories were first drafted. My book bringing me back to the very person who planted the seeds for the writing life in me so many years ago. Amazing, how life bends back on itself!
March 25, 2013
The Next Big Thing
"The Next Big Thing" is a blog hop where writers around the world share what they're working on by responding to ten questions. Thanks to author Abigail DeWitt, who invited me to join the project. You can learn more about her right here.I'm tagging Rosemary Austin, Kyle Lang, Mary Emerick, Mary Kay Zuvraleff, and Laurie Foos. If all goes well, you can check out their answers next week. (I'll link to their individual posts). Here goes:What is your working title of your book?I'm calling it The Longest Day of the Year. Most of the novel takes place on June 21st, 2009 and is set in Afghanistan. Where did the idea come from for the book?It's inspired by two short stories published in Flashes of War, my collection forthcoming from Loyola University Maryland. The first story, "The Quiet Kind," features a US soldier and his wife and their lives back in North Carolina after the soldier's tour of duty. The second story, "Aaseya and Rahim," features an Afghan couple living in Oruzgan Province. Last summer, an agent suggested to me that I might try writing a novel. I laughed at the suggestion, but was likewise intrigued. Could I write something that long? What would I learn if I tried? After some discussions with authors Jaimy Gordon, Patricia Ann McNair, and Anne-Marie Oomen, I decided I had nothing to lose if I tried. These mentors heard me out in my early vocal brainstorming for the novel, as I described "The Quiet Kind" and "Aaseya and Rahim" to them, and the unique parallels between the two couples caught up in the same war, but from completely different cultures.Who or what inspired you to write this book?Researching and writing about the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan has been an interest and obsession of my for three years and counting. It's very important to me to look at these wars and ask questions. Writing about them is my way of moving closer to an answer. Recently, author Alan Graz asked me this question, and the interview will be published in the coming months. Likewise, this book trailer takes a stab at answering the very complicated question of why I write about war.
What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?This novel deals with the ramifications of a true incident in war, focusing on the 2009 breaking news that US taxpayers' dollars are funding the counterinsurgency in Afghanistan. In short, the US pays Afghan trucking companies to deliver goods all across Afghanistan to the US Military bases. These Afghan trucking companies have to hire security to promise safe delivery of the goods, and those "guards" are often insurgents or members of the Taliban, who take their US cash payments and put them to work against US soldiers on the ground in Afghanistan. This novel looks at the very real consequences of that, and brings the matter to the forefront of the heart by focusing on American and Afghan characters caught in the middle, just trying to do what's right.
What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?This novel deals with the ramifications of a true incident in war, focusing on the 2009 breaking news that US taxpayers' dollars are funding the counterinsurgency in Afghanistan. In short, the US pays Afghan trucking companies to deliver goods all across Afghanistan to the US Military bases. These Afghan trucking companies have to hire security to promise safe delivery of the goods, and those "guards" are often insurgents or members of the Taliban, who take their US cash payments and put them to work against US soldiers on the ground in Afghanistan. This novel looks at the very real consequences of that, and brings the matter to the forefront of the heart by focusing on American and Afghan characters caught in the middle, just trying to do what's right.
March 21, 2013
Flashes of War Book Trailer
Last night, the Loyola University Maryland Spring Book Launch in Baltimore kicked off, in celebration of Apprentice House's 10 authors being published this year. I decided not to fly up for the event, due to the fact that my book isn't formally for sale until Memorial Day (May 27). But several authors were Skyped/YouTubed in to the celebration, including myself. I stayed busy waitressing my tail off at The Pizza Shop & Dry County Brewing Company while the big party carried on up north. I had a little bounce in my step knowing that this book trailer for Flashes of War was about the meet the crowd:
Shirley J. Brewer, Alix Moore, Stephen J. Gordon, Annu Subramanian, Jay Sullivan, Jack B. Downs, and John E. McIntyre.
Things are finally starting to happen: The Goodreads Giveaway starts next week (where you can enter to win a free advanced copy of the book), the presale begins May 1st, and the launch is Memorial Day, May 27th, at the very fine bookstore, Malaprop's, in Asheville, NC.
Shirley J. Brewer, Alix Moore, Stephen J. Gordon, Annu Subramanian, Jay Sullivan, Jack B. Downs, and John E. McIntyre.
Things are finally starting to happen: The Goodreads Giveaway starts next week (where you can enter to win a free advanced copy of the book), the presale begins May 1st, and the launch is Memorial Day, May 27th, at the very fine bookstore, Malaprop's, in Asheville, NC.
March 18, 2013
Dorothy Allison and the People We're Afraid Of
Sometimes, a person says something and it hits you over the head because it feels instantly true, although perhaps you have never put words to it yourself.
This afternoon, while listening to an American Public Media podcast of "The Story" featuring authors Justin Torres and Dorothy Allison, I experienced exactly that. The host asked Dorothy Allison about her greatest writing hero, Toni Morrison. After a few anecdotes and an explanation of what makes Morrison her hero, Dorothy added: "I believe in political action, I believe in organizing. Oh honey, I believe in marchin' in the street. But what will change people most profoundly is to be invited inside the mind and soul of characters or individuals that they have always been afraid of."
And maybe it was because I completed two interviews for the book this afternoon. Or maybe it was because two more events for the book tour solidified this week and another interview came in for April. Or, was it the angry former student who could only respond to my book announcement by telling me that what happens in Afghanistan, stays in Afghanistan? In either case, Dorothy Allison's words struck me as absolutely fitting for my motivations to write Flashes of War.
The idea of going to war is scary. Being a citizen of a nation that preemptively strikes fills me with an array of conflicted emotions. Wondering about the impact of my country's actions is likewise shock-inducing. Pondering where my tax dollars go makes me squirm. But imagining alternative solutions often leaves me coming up dry. At a certain point, with my life on the road and the country in The Great Recession, I knew I had to look long and hard at these wars. I did so with an intention to write my way toward answers to questions I had been pondering for quite some time.
But I can see now how I was also trying to write my way into the hearts and minds of people I didn't--and may not ever--know: A gung-ho soldier, a middleman for the Taliban, an Iraqi suicide bomber, an Afghan child, a Marine Corps amputee. "Not knowing" can be very similar to "fear," if you break down the psychology, and that's where Dorothy Allison's quote comes into play. I think, for the three years it took me to research, write, and earn a publishing contract on that book, that I was exploring things that make me feel uncertain. And the only guide I had to help me decipher whether or not a story was finished, was whether or not the final draft lent itself toward some measure of certainty...some measure of knowing.
This afternoon, while listening to an American Public Media podcast of "The Story" featuring authors Justin Torres and Dorothy Allison, I experienced exactly that. The host asked Dorothy Allison about her greatest writing hero, Toni Morrison. After a few anecdotes and an explanation of what makes Morrison her hero, Dorothy added: "I believe in political action, I believe in organizing. Oh honey, I believe in marchin' in the street. But what will change people most profoundly is to be invited inside the mind and soul of characters or individuals that they have always been afraid of."
And maybe it was because I completed two interviews for the book this afternoon. Or maybe it was because two more events for the book tour solidified this week and another interview came in for April. Or, was it the angry former student who could only respond to my book announcement by telling me that what happens in Afghanistan, stays in Afghanistan? In either case, Dorothy Allison's words struck me as absolutely fitting for my motivations to write Flashes of War.
The idea of going to war is scary. Being a citizen of a nation that preemptively strikes fills me with an array of conflicted emotions. Wondering about the impact of my country's actions is likewise shock-inducing. Pondering where my tax dollars go makes me squirm. But imagining alternative solutions often leaves me coming up dry. At a certain point, with my life on the road and the country in The Great Recession, I knew I had to look long and hard at these wars. I did so with an intention to write my way toward answers to questions I had been pondering for quite some time.
But I can see now how I was also trying to write my way into the hearts and minds of people I didn't--and may not ever--know: A gung-ho soldier, a middleman for the Taliban, an Iraqi suicide bomber, an Afghan child, a Marine Corps amputee. "Not knowing" can be very similar to "fear," if you break down the psychology, and that's where Dorothy Allison's quote comes into play. I think, for the three years it took me to research, write, and earn a publishing contract on that book, that I was exploring things that make me feel uncertain. And the only guide I had to help me decipher whether or not a story was finished, was whether or not the final draft lent itself toward some measure of certainty...some measure of knowing.
March 14, 2013
Advertising on Goodreads & Other Acts of Writerly Faith
An unanticipated side-effect of forcing myself to put the novel in a drawer for a month is that I'm freed up no only to read more, but to promote my business. In other words, I'm getting my ducks in a row before the launch of Flashes of War. I've already accepted the fact that this will, at times, cost money (ex. hiring my own copyeditor). This week, I'm happy to say that I made my first investment in advertising. I don't know if I'll ever do it again, but what better time to try it than in tandem with the launch of a first book?
The Goodreads community has been interesting to connect with as I navigate my way through this new-to-me site for book lovers and authors alike. Their customer service (Real people! With real names and real email addresses!) is superb and that, plus the well-timed email from them welcoming me as an author and inviting me to consider advertising, certainly persuaded. But more than anything, it's an ability to be my own best boss that helped me take the plunge into paid advertising. The frugal writer in me says, "No way!" but the better boss in me says, "Hey, you've worked hard to create your business as a self-supporting writer and you can't do all of it alone. Lots of people need help getting the word out there. Here's one easy way to do. Give yourself a reasonable budget and try it."
So I did...in spite of the fact that my car broke down this week and is still at the shop, that I have a few fewer waitressing shifts each month, and that I am winding down on two arts writing projects that have brought trickles of income all winter. Call it faith or business smarts, (and I think it's probably a mix of the two) I'm happy about being able to advertise and am likewise proud to say I've got the following campaign organized:
3/20 Launch of "meet the author" video at Loyola University in Baltimore
3/27 Goodreads Giveaway and ad campaign begins
4/27 Goodreads Giveaway and ad campaign ends
5/1 Presale for Flashes of War begins on this website!
5/27 Official release date of Flashes of War
Likewise, 6 public readings have been scheduled with many more in the works. (It's the timing, travel, and budget that slow this process down...not to mention the many other folks involved in making a decision to accept or decline a request to host me.) Two requests for author interviews came in this week, one more book review promise, and two more ARCs went out to interested parties.
I share all of this not to toot my own horn, but for those writers out there who are also working from the bottom up and trying to give this life a solid go. Also, for the readers who love their writers, and want to see into the highs, lows, and inbetweens of the writing life. Many of my friends are studio artists, and I know they experience similar things in the art world. I'm no fairy-tale-big-NYC-publishing-house-Oprah-Book-Club-overnight-success story. But I do believe greater success is on the horizon, and a little advertising along the way sure can't hurt!
The Goodreads community has been interesting to connect with as I navigate my way through this new-to-me site for book lovers and authors alike. Their customer service (Real people! With real names and real email addresses!) is superb and that, plus the well-timed email from them welcoming me as an author and inviting me to consider advertising, certainly persuaded. But more than anything, it's an ability to be my own best boss that helped me take the plunge into paid advertising. The frugal writer in me says, "No way!" but the better boss in me says, "Hey, you've worked hard to create your business as a self-supporting writer and you can't do all of it alone. Lots of people need help getting the word out there. Here's one easy way to do. Give yourself a reasonable budget and try it."
So I did...in spite of the fact that my car broke down this week and is still at the shop, that I have a few fewer waitressing shifts each month, and that I am winding down on two arts writing projects that have brought trickles of income all winter. Call it faith or business smarts, (and I think it's probably a mix of the two) I'm happy about being able to advertise and am likewise proud to say I've got the following campaign organized:
3/20 Launch of "meet the author" video at Loyola University in Baltimore
3/27 Goodreads Giveaway and ad campaign begins
4/27 Goodreads Giveaway and ad campaign ends
5/1 Presale for Flashes of War begins on this website!
5/27 Official release date of Flashes of War
Likewise, 6 public readings have been scheduled with many more in the works. (It's the timing, travel, and budget that slow this process down...not to mention the many other folks involved in making a decision to accept or decline a request to host me.) Two requests for author interviews came in this week, one more book review promise, and two more ARCs went out to interested parties.
I share all of this not to toot my own horn, but for those writers out there who are also working from the bottom up and trying to give this life a solid go. Also, for the readers who love their writers, and want to see into the highs, lows, and inbetweens of the writing life. Many of my friends are studio artists, and I know they experience similar things in the art world. I'm no fairy-tale-big-NYC-publishing-house-Oprah-Book-Club-overnight-success story. But I do believe greater success is on the horizon, and a little advertising along the way sure can't hurt!
March 11, 2013
When Not Writing a Novel
What does a writer do with herself when not writing a novel? I read. I read the New York Times and Thumbnail Magazine. I catch up on my subscription to Oxford American. Then there's the research--finally getting to read about war again because it won't distract from the writing. There's Fobbit and Fire & Forget, not to mention a draft of Can't Give This War Away sitting on my desk for preview. Of course, there's trail work to be done with the Carolina Mountain Club and peaks to climb with the NC High Peaks Trail Association...and Gus the supderdog needs his daily adventures in the woods as well.
My characters are still with me, in the back of my mind. I don't talk out loud to them as if they were in the room anymore, but I haven't completely buried them, either. When I think about my protagonist Nathan, I wonder about how to authentically portray his PTSD throughout the novel. When I think about his Afghan counterpart, Aaseya, I wonder if I have persuaded my readers about her willingness to adopt a child. And then there's Rahim,perhaps most difficult of the three. He doesn't go after what he wants and he can't name what it is anyway until it's right under his nose. That's a difficult character to get up and over a narrative arc and I've got some real thinking to do about what it's going to take in the early pages of the book to pull this off. Then there's the orphan boy. I love him for the passages he lets me write. But have I gotten his age right based on his behaviors?
As soon as my mind gets going on all this, I'm tempted to open up the document or pull the manuscript from the drawer. But I don't have any answers yet. And my characters certainly aren't talking directly into my ear right now (if they were, no doubt about it, I'd listen). This is the time for steeping. For letting go. For trusting that while I busy myself with other things, there is still work being done. I can't measure that work in word count right now, but it's still work nonetheless.
So it's back to the trails and books, it's into the city for my meditation group, and out during the week for the occasional drink with a friend. It feels aptly timed with the coming of spring. Things are cooking below the surface. With patience and faith, they'll bloom.
My characters are still with me, in the back of my mind. I don't talk out loud to them as if they were in the room anymore, but I haven't completely buried them, either. When I think about my protagonist Nathan, I wonder about how to authentically portray his PTSD throughout the novel. When I think about his Afghan counterpart, Aaseya, I wonder if I have persuaded my readers about her willingness to adopt a child. And then there's Rahim,perhaps most difficult of the three. He doesn't go after what he wants and he can't name what it is anyway until it's right under his nose. That's a difficult character to get up and over a narrative arc and I've got some real thinking to do about what it's going to take in the early pages of the book to pull this off. Then there's the orphan boy. I love him for the passages he lets me write. But have I gotten his age right based on his behaviors?
As soon as my mind gets going on all this, I'm tempted to open up the document or pull the manuscript from the drawer. But I don't have any answers yet. And my characters certainly aren't talking directly into my ear right now (if they were, no doubt about it, I'd listen). This is the time for steeping. For letting go. For trusting that while I busy myself with other things, there is still work being done. I can't measure that work in word count right now, but it's still work nonetheless.
So it's back to the trails and books, it's into the city for my meditation group, and out during the week for the occasional drink with a friend. It feels aptly timed with the coming of spring. Things are cooking below the surface. With patience and faith, they'll bloom.
March 7, 2013
Put Your Manuscript in a Drawer
I didn't want to do it. I swear. I'm in love with the whole thing--waking up, writing in my bathrobe, forgetting breakfast, writing some more...And I did leave the house. I swear. I left to teach. To walk around the block. To hear chamber music.
And I always came back to the manuscript...and most often, gleefully.
So when I got home and finally put the thing into a drawer, well...I think I might have heard my manuscript scream.
But I had to do it. The love affair has to cool off. Or, as friend and author B.A. Goodjohn told me: "Of course you're in love with the novel. That's fine. But you have to wait until you're not infatuated anymore. Wait until you're not in love, but just loving it." In other words, if I try to revise when I'm still in love with the work, I'll only be patting around the edges and not really digging into the guts of the story. But if I wait until I love it like another person--someone I would be honest with because I cared, someone I would point out spinach to when it gets caught between their teeth--well, that's a whole other story.
Which is exactly the point--to wait long enough until I can revise my way to a whole other story. It will be the story it's been trying to be all along, of course, but I'm still figuring that out. The only way to speed this process up is to, ironically, slow down.
So here it is ladies and gents, my pledge to keep my hands off the novel for at least one month, possibly two. I should probably wait even longer than that, but I don't think that's possible for me. I don't want it all to end. I can still hear it screaming. But if my older, wiser, more published friends have been telling me the truth all these years, then I have to do this.
Into the drawer it goes...
March 4, 2013
Randolph College Wrap-Up
I've closed the laptop and hit the road, folks. This here Randolph College Emerging Writer is homeward bound! It's always hard to leave, especially when I felt like I was just starting to deepen relationships with a few folks. (Most notably: Larry, the bartender from Mangia. I'm not kidding. Sixty-something years old, as New York as they get, smart, and he delivered the best description of a properly prepared and enjoyed vodka martini that I have ever been blessed to hear.) But leaving is the name of the game and if I'm not good at it by now, I never will be.
The most exciting news, other than getting to go home and see Gus (and you, too, parents!) is this:
I HAVE COMPLETED THE FIRST DRAFT OF MY NOVEL.
That's right folks...a goal I wasn't sure I'd reach this winter, maybe not even this year, and yet...the gift of time at Randolph and the extraordinarily light teaching duties made the task possible. All totaled, I added 130 pages to the novel, about 80-90 of which were new.
And my dear students of ENG 167 came around and did quite well for themselves, also, each earning a P for passing in my 1-credit P/F course. Here are a few things they said to me in the introductory statements of their creative writing portfolios:
"Understanding these subtle techniques [taught in class] has allowed me not only to implement them in my own work but also to pick out techniques in other writing as well. It becomes clear why a writer chose the word they chose...More importantly, it is easier to point out the overall impact or 'humannes' the author is aiming for...I have also learned to structure my wok in a way that benefits the impact rather than crippling it."
"Whenever I used to write an essay, I would get so caught up in whether or not the original words going down onto the paper sounded perfect. I've learned that it's okay for everything to not be as clear the first time around. I can always go back and fix it. It's a lot easier to say what I want to say if I am not worrying about perfection the first time around...It is like a puzzle. Going back and revising is how you find the perfect word to fit into each sentence."
"The techniques that we learned were incredibly helpful in my own writing pursuits and, unlike, many English classes I've taken before, I can see the difference and improvement in my writing. I was skeptical at first when you explained what we were going to do throughout the class [learning by imitation], especially at the amount of papers I realized that you were assigning us. However, this learning technique has helped me more in a semester than years of English classes before. I'm sold."
The most exciting news, other than getting to go home and see Gus (and you, too, parents!) is this:
I HAVE COMPLETED THE FIRST DRAFT OF MY NOVEL.
That's right folks...a goal I wasn't sure I'd reach this winter, maybe not even this year, and yet...the gift of time at Randolph and the extraordinarily light teaching duties made the task possible. All totaled, I added 130 pages to the novel, about 80-90 of which were new.
And my dear students of ENG 167 came around and did quite well for themselves, also, each earning a P for passing in my 1-credit P/F course. Here are a few things they said to me in the introductory statements of their creative writing portfolios:
"Understanding these subtle techniques [taught in class] has allowed me not only to implement them in my own work but also to pick out techniques in other writing as well. It becomes clear why a writer chose the word they chose...More importantly, it is easier to point out the overall impact or 'humannes' the author is aiming for...I have also learned to structure my wok in a way that benefits the impact rather than crippling it."
"Whenever I used to write an essay, I would get so caught up in whether or not the original words going down onto the paper sounded perfect. I've learned that it's okay for everything to not be as clear the first time around. I can always go back and fix it. It's a lot easier to say what I want to say if I am not worrying about perfection the first time around...It is like a puzzle. Going back and revising is how you find the perfect word to fit into each sentence."
"The techniques that we learned were incredibly helpful in my own writing pursuits and, unlike, many English classes I've taken before, I can see the difference and improvement in my writing. I was skeptical at first when you explained what we were going to do throughout the class [learning by imitation], especially at the amount of papers I realized that you were assigning us. However, this learning technique has helped me more in a semester than years of English classes before. I'm sold."
