Cindy Callaghan's Blog, page 2
November 11, 2022
Episode #3: My Kitchen was Dirty when JUST ADD MAGIC was Birthed
I’m a neat-nick. There, I said it.
So, the day circa 2003 when I saw my daughter and her two friends baking in my kitchen, I twitched a little. Eggshell here… flour there… but, I saw how much fun they were having and thought it would be great if these girls had some kind of cooking club (at someone else’s house…jk). And that thought — “a cooking club” — was like a match scratched against a rough surface …
**spark**
Like most writers, I suspect, once there’s a spark the mind goes and goes and goes…
Here’s how mine went:
Cooking Club?
No, I can do better than that: A Secret Cooking Club! Yeah, that’s it. Anything secret is better.
Why is it secret? Hmmm…
Who’s in the club? A girl named Kelly Quinn—yeah, that’s a cute name. And she has two friends, partners in crime. What are their names? Darby. That’s a cute name too, and not very common. And Hannah. Darby and Hannah are in Kelly Quinn’s Secret Cooking Club.
And there you have it… I was going to write a tween book called Kelly Quinn’s Secret Cooking Club.
I wrote the first draft quickly, in a few weeks. Then I rewrote it for a year. I thought it was good. But then again, I’d thought The Untitled Vegetable Book and my big pharma thriller were good too, (see episode 1). For the first time I queried a long strategic list of literary agents and one responded. I was both surprised and hurt when she asked me to rewrite my manuscript. But, after hearing her out, her advice made sense and I rewrote the book, mostly the ending, according to her specifications. She signed me as a client and sold the book to Simon & Schuster.
So, maybe books are better written in a dirty kitchen. (The imperfect rhyme in that sentence was unintentional, but catchy.)
The post Episode #3: My Kitchen was Dirty when JUST ADD MAGIC was Birthed appeared first on Cindy Callaghan.
October 29, 2022
Cindy’s Journal, The Confession Series, Episode #2: My First Resume Was Pictorial (And the time I tried out for the USC track & field team)
I’d been asked “what do you want to be when you grow up?” a million times, and you probably were too.
My answers ranged from: Vet, to talk show host, to movie star, to journalist, to comedian, and on and on. I don’t know that my answer was ever, “Writer,” but when it came time to apply to colleges, I thought I wanted to be a screenwriter and set out for the University of Southern California. I had no idea how unprepared I was for my future as a screenwriter until I saw other students with portfolios and VHS tapes of sample work, while I simply had dreams, and a play I’d written in third grade. I didn’t know at the time that my dreams of becoming a screenwriter were as unrealistic as walking onto USC’s Division I track & field team, but I tried out nonetheless. By New Jersey’s standards, I was a good long jumper. When I saw what a truly good long jumper was, I wasn’t shocked that I didn’t make the team. Further, the more I learned about the screenwriting business, it wasn’t surprising that Spielberg never called.
So, I pivoted — the first of many — and set my sights on working in New York at an ad firm or publishing company. The job market was tight at this time, so there was a real need to stand out. Luckily I was better at creativity than long jumping. Certain I could stand out and defy job-searching norms with a totally unique resume, I hired a classmate (with waitressing dollars) to make caricatures of me doing my employment history etc… Literally with cutting and pasting, I made the images into a pictorial resume, which I printed on neon paper. My cover letter, also on neon paper, was… wait for it… a sonnet. Creative, right?
In another blow, this strategy yielded no offers. So I did a little of this, and a little of that, thinking that I needed another degree and I thought an MBA would afford me the most flexibility. But, since I’d been writing and analyzing literature in both English and French for four years, I didn’t have the math experience needed to score well on the GMATs. How could I take that test when I didn’t know calculus? The answer was simple: I couldn’t.
Now, when someone tells me I can’t do something, I’m usually compelled to prove them wrong, except in the case of the USC track team because I knew those were impossible odds, but calculus? What could be so hard? With help from an administrator from the University of Delaware’s MBA program and the books he loaned me, I taught myself calculus. Well, as much as I needed to take the test.
I loved business school, especially economics. After getting an MBA, I even did a stint in academia teaching undergrad econ while also interning at a small local pharmaceutical company who eventually hired me. That company merged with another and became a giant. I changed roles several times and had (still have) an enjoyable career in big pharma.
It wasn’t until three kids and many moons later I’d begin writing fiction. My first book was published in 2010, and to date I have eleven books published, one of which inspired a very popular show.
The thing that still has me stumped is how I was able to do any of it without a pictorial resume or sonnet.
The post Cindy’s Journal, The Confession Series, Episode #2: My First Resume Was Pictorial (And the time I tried out for the USC track & field team) appeared first on Cindy Callaghan.
Episode #2: My First Resume Was Pictorial (And the time I tried out for the USC track & field team)
I’d been asked “what do you want to be when you grow up?” a million times, and you probably were too.
My answers ranged from: Vet, to talk show host, to movie star, to journalist, to comedian, and on and on. I don’t know that my answer was ever, “Writer,” but when it came time to apply to colleges, I thought I wanted to be a screenwriter and set out for the University of Southern California. I had no idea how unprepared I was for my future as a screenwriter until I saw other students with portfolios and VHS tapes of sample work, while I simply had dreams, and a play I’d written in third grade. I didn’t know at the time that my dreams of becoming a screenwriter were as unrealistic as walking onto USC’s Division I track & field team, but I tried out nonetheless. By New Jersey’s standards, I was a good long jumper. When I saw what a truly good long jumper was, I wasn’t shocked that I didn’t make the team. Further, the more I learned about the screenwriting business, it wasn’t surprising that Spielberg never called.
So, I pivoted — the first of many — and set my sights on working in New York at an ad firm or publishing company. The job market was tight at this time, so there was a real need to stand out. Luckily I was better at creativity than long jumping. Certain I could stand out and defy job-searching norms with a totally unique resume, I hired a classmate (with waitressing dollars) to make caricatures of me doing my employment history etc… Literally with cutting and pasting, I made the images into a pictorial resume, which I printed on neon paper. My cover letter, also on neon paper, was… wait for it… a sonnet. Creative, right?
In another blow, this strategy yielded no offers. So I did a little of this, and a little of that, thinking that I needed another degree and I thought an MBA would afford me the most flexibility. But, since I’d been writing and analyzing literature in both English and French for four years, I didn’t have the math experience needed to score well on the GMATs. How could I take that test when I didn’t know calculus? The answer was simple: I couldn’t.
Now, when someone tells me I can’t do something, I’m usually compelled to prove them wrong, except in the case of the USC track team because I knew those were impossible odds, but calculus? What could be so hard? With help from an administrator from the University of Delaware’s MBA program and the books he loaned me, I taught myself calculus. Well, as much as I needed to take the test.
I loved business school, especially economics. After getting an MBA, I even did a stint in academia teaching undergrad econ while also interning at a small local pharmaceutical company who eventually hired me. That company merged with another and became a giant. I changed roles several times and had (still have) an enjoyable career in big pharma.
It wasn’t until three kids and many moons later I’d begin writing fiction. My first book was published in 2010, and to date I have eleven books published, one of which inspired a very popular show.
The thing that still has me stumped is how I was able to do any of it without a pictorial resume or sonnet.
The post Episode #2: My First Resume Was Pictorial (And the time I tried out for the USC track & field team) appeared first on Cindy Callaghan.
October 16, 2022
Cindy’s Journal, The Confession Series, Episode #1: I Never Intended to Write For Tweens
I suppose, like most writers, I’ve always written. It’s in my DNA. The first real project that I remember was a play, the sequel to Grease. I was in third grade. My music teacher, Mr. Hunt, helped my class put it on. (Great teacher to do that, right?)
After that, I doodled stories and poems through high school. I loved the creative writing portions of English classes. No teacher really told me I was any better than anyone else, and I don’t remember any specific moment of encouragement. In fact, I can remember a time when an author (or maybe a poet) visited school and students were asked to submit work to her in advance. For a wannabe writer, this was a big deal that I liken to Ralphy writing a theme about a Red Rider BeBe Gun. I submitted one of my favorite poems. Submissions were anonymous. And she selected mine to read aloud. I was so excited and waited to hear compliments of my great work. Instead, in front of the class, she critiqued it. In hindsight I’m able to give her the benefit of the doubt that her intentions were kind, but to a twelve year old it was only criticism… “You’ll shoot your eye out.”
I’d always hoped to hear, “You’ll be a writer someday,” but I never got it. I persisted because when you’re a writer, you can’t not write, but also maybe/probably to prove myself. I’m defiant that way. When I hear “no,” or “you can’t,” I’m the type to prove I can, and I will, just watch me. There was, however, one exceptional teacher in high school—Miss Peters. Everyone loved Miss Peters, and with good reason. She was cool, approachable, high energy, always smiling, and she sort of sparkled with a love of writing. She tasked us to write, and as memory serves me, that’s how we were graded—on whether or not we wrote. Not on the quality or the quantity. She just wanted our number two pencils moving. And any writer will appreciate that important lesson: Butt in chair, pencil moving.
Fast forward many years and in my early twenties-ish I penned The Untitled Vegetable Book. It was pure genius in verse. I submitted it pre-internet style to many publishers and got postcard rejections — lots of them — that I still have. I show those rejections when I go to school visits as a way to demonstrate the publication — if that’s the goal — requires persistence. The Untitled Vegetable Book is in my “trunk” with many other projects.
Hit fast forward again to a time when I’m near thirty, working in Big Pharma and in need of a creative outlet. Having recently found a love of thrillers, I began studying them. I made Beat Sheets before I knew what a Beat Sheet was. I thought, “I’m gonna do this.” I had a good idea for one that backdropped the pharma industry. My novel idea came at the industry with a fresh take. I toiled early in the morning — like, really early — before work and before our babies woke up. And, damn, the draft novel was good… it still is. But, it’s fate would plop it in that trunk along with the others.
It wasn’t until years later that I got the bug to write for tweens. That, however, is a post for another day.
The post Cindy’s Journal, The Confession Series, Episode #1: I Never Intended to Write For Tweens appeared first on Cindy Callaghan.
Episode #1: I Never Intended to Write For Tweens
I suppose, like most writers, I’ve always written. It’s in my DNA. The first real project that I remember was a play, the sequel to Grease. I was in third grade. My music teacher, Mr. Hunt, helped my class put it on. (Great teacher to do that, right?)
After that, I doodled stories and poems through high school. I loved the creative writing portions of English classes. No teacher really told me I was any better than anyone else, and I don’t remember any specific moment of encouragement. In fact, I can remember a time when an author (or maybe a poet) visited school and students were asked to submit work to her in advance. For a wannabe writer, this was a big deal that I liken to Ralphy writing a theme about a Red Rider BeBe Gun. I submitted one of my favorite poems. Submissions were anonymous. And she selected mine to read aloud. I was so excited and waited to hear compliments of my great work. Instead, in front of the class, she critiqued it. In hindsight I’m able to give her the benefit of the doubt that her intentions were kind, but to a twelve year old it was only criticism… “You’ll shoot your eye out.”
I’d always hoped to hear, “You’ll be a writer someday,” but I never got it. I persisted because when you’re a writer, you can’t not write, but also maybe/probably to prove myself. I’m defiant that way. When I hear “no,” or “you can’t,” I’m the type to prove I can, and I will, just watch me. There was, however, one exceptional teacher in high school—Miss Peters. Everyone loved Miss Peters, and with good reason. She was he was cool, approachable, high energy, always smiling, and she sort of sparkled with a love of writing. She tasked us to write, and as memory serves me, that’s how we were graded—on whether or not we wrote. Not on the quality or the quantity. She just wanted our number two pencils moving. And any writer will appreciate that important lesson: Butt in chair, pencil moving.
Fast forward many years and in my early twenties-ish I penned The Untitled Vegetable Book. It was pure genius in verse. I submitted it pre-internet style to many publishers and got postcard rejections — lots of them — that I still have. I show those rejections when I go to school visits as a way to demonstrate the publication — if that’s the goal — requires persistence. The Untitled Vegetable Book is in my “trunk” with many other projects.
Hit fast forward again to a time when I’m near thirty, working in Big Pharma and in need of a creative outlet. Having recently found a love of thrillers, I began studying them. I made Beat Sheets before I knew what a Beat Sheet was. I thought, “I’m gonna do this.” I had a good idea for one that backdropped the pharma industry. My novel idea came at the industry with a fresh take. I toiled early in the morning — like, really early — before work and before our babies woke up. And, damn, the draft novel was good… it still is. But, it’s fate would plop it in that trunk along with the others.
It wasn’t until years later that I got the bug to write for tweens. That, however, is a post for another day.
The post Episode #1: I Never Intended to Write For Tweens appeared first on Cindy Callaghan.
