Elizabeth Dutton's Blog, page 5

brewing

 

 

While the framework and specifics of my next novel rattle around in the back of my head and in stacks of index cards on my desk, dresser, bedside table, and any other available space (I call this percolating), I am running the mental treadmill with poems. I have been producing them and tinkering with them at an interesting pace. There is a reason my mind is working like this. Someday, all shall be revealed.

In the meantime, please enjoy my latest.

 

Landfill Road

A dog:

time starved,

beset by plump, iridescent flies,

ribs corrugating his sides,

sleeps soundly in the scrub grass dirt

dreaming of care, comfort.

Two golden haired girls:

swing on a creaking metal playset,

cheeks and palms sticky with artificial juice,

the rusted structure bearing their tiny weight with effort.

A woman in a tank top:

belly exposed,

lazily pushing the girls

while she smokes a cigarette and

texts

an unknown other.

Father:

sitting nearby in the cab of a pickup,

smoking,

texting,

warning of swinging too high.

Here, is there such a thing?

Heights too great?

“Don’t go no higher.”

This is the endless, infinite message.

There’s nothing more than this –

This squalor

old scraps of bed sheets cover windows taped in place

pieces of broken vehicles

half a pickup with a dream catcher hanging from the rear view

memories of people lost to drugs, to guns

Is there more than this?

Is there more than occasional jobs

and visits from Child Protective Services

and Energy drinks

and styrofoam cups

and improvised front steps

and submission

and bad tattoos

and outside judgment?

gullion

Sweatshirts with No Logos (a cold weather continuation)

for me

I am built like a Viking –

or maybe some kind of steam ship,

well-padded over immense strength.

 

Behind me the trials and scorched villages,

invasions and bolts and repairs and spark welding and soldiering

to create THIS.

 

Literal.

Figurative.

The figure alit.

 

My soft caramel core,

an elixir of life.

Oh, ancient honey never spoils.

 

It is pure.

It is knowledge.

It is alchemic creative magic joy.

 

The core is what counts.

The shell the keeper at the gates.

Separate the wheat from the superficial chaff.

 

Shells are irrelevant, impermanent,

glistening with the scar and ink lavalieres designed and unbidden,

owned solely by the inhabitant.

 

I am mine

and I will decide

when/if you can visit.

 

I am mine

and I will decide

when the raid begins.

 

I am mine

and I will decide

what cargo, if any, I will share.

question/answer call/response

I have been receiving a lot of really wonderful feedback about Driftwood. I am often overwhelmed by the way the book resonates with readers who contact me. It is a real privilege to have such random human connection with strangers. Lovely, in fact.

With these messages come many questions. I will try to answer some of them here:

Are the characters based on people you know?

Not exactly. More like composites or just totally made up. I watch people and eavesdrop far too much. No one is safe. 

Do you have a literary agent?

No.

Who has the film rights to the book?

Me. Just me.

Are you working on another novel?

Yes, and it is going to be incredible. I love it already and the first draft isn’t even near done.

Is your next book a continuation of Driftwood?

Not at all. That was self-contained. Onward.

What is your next novel about?

You’ll have to wait and see. 

Can I turn my essay in late?

No late papers are accepted. Stop asking. (That one was for my students.)

xo

like the Jetsons

I had a REALLY lovely time recently video conferencing in with a book club (pictured above) filled with super badass and brilliant women in Las Vegas. They had interesting and insightful comments/questions and I loved every second of it.

I adore book clubs and this one is particularly wonderful. All of the members are intelligent, powerful, hilarious, STAUNCH women who are endlessly inspiring.

This was my first book club speaking engagement and first reading via video. I couldn’t have asked for a better group. They are my favorites for life.

If you’d like for me to Skype my ugly mug into your book club meeting, say so in the comments and let’s make this happen.

xo

new knew gnu

High and low walk in tandem for me, holding hands as they waltz into my life.

The low? My father, already in poor health, had a stroke 2 weeks ago and I flew right out to help my brother get him settled into a skilled nursing facility. With that accomplished, I thought calm would descend and my brief time between teaching semesters would be restful. The problem is that my dad doesn’t deal well with authority. He is pissed that he isn’t allowed to drink or smoke at the rest home. He also doesn’t understand that he can’t walk. Which leads us to this evening’s episode where he tried to get up out of his wheelchair and walk out but instead fell to the floor. Apparently nothing is broken, but he’s under observation. I, being a useless and delicate flower, don’t deal well with stress, so this is taking a toll on me. But it’s not about me. Tell that to my daily migraines.

The high? We spent the day out at the Half Moon Bay Moss Beach tide pools, spying on anemones up close and watching seals warm their glorious bellies from afar. I desperately wanted to go lie next to the seals on their rocks. I would have fit right in and we’d have gotten along beautifully, alas government regulations prohibit such things. It was a truly stunning day and exactly the break I needed. I haven’t really had a moment to myself since I got the call about my dad (or rather since I had to make the call across country for the sheriff and medics to go check on him).

Another high? A very charming and talented actress (Emma Roberts) somehow got a copy of my book and seems to be enjoying it. So much so that she shared this information with her (millions of) fans. My Twitter notifications are going bonkers. Ms. Roberts seems to be a really lovely person, and I am not just saying that because she digs my book. She is very sweet, very smart, and very kind. I don’t think she knows what her couple of mentions have meant for my little indie title that could. I can’t thank her enough and I want to welcome anyone who found his or her way here to this site thanks to her. It is a joy to have you here.

And now for lists:

awesome:

•tide pools

•the smell of bay trees

•good parking karma

•nurses, therapists, and all others who work with those who test the boundaries of patience

•fascinating and random conversations about the majesty and beauty of Chinese kingfisher feather jewelry

•surprising people with a very sincere thank you

•scarves

non-awesome:

•not being able to fix everything and everyone

•missing my dogs to the point that it hurts

•going from being his best friend to a good friend

•lack of opiates for previously mentioned migraines

•ohmyjah I forgot how bad traffic is out here in the Bay Area

xo

stay strong

listen

Driftwood is now available as an audiobook via Audible! This is very strange for me!

Here is the link: DRIFTWOOD

Now you can listen to me read the book to you. I don’t know how you’ll take to my voice, but the book remains pretty damned good.

Download it today, listen to it on your commute, at the gym, while mowing the lawn, or in the car with the bass way up and the windows down.

xo

really, though

Driftwood was reviewed on Sunday in The Wall Street Journal. The link takes you to a site where you have to pay, so I’ll share the good bits with you (sorry, Rupert Murdoch, but this is what you get for saying all Egyptians are white):

In other news, I went back into the studio to re-record some bits for the audiobook, which should be out soon. And there is possible news on the “Reasons to Smile” front, but more on that later. xo

impact

 

I had a wonderful trip out to sweet home California, the mothership. The reading at Green Apple in San Francisco was fantastic — I tabulated the number of people I knew who were there at just over 50, and there were some faces I didn’t know, so I would call that a success.

It was an honor to read at Book Soup in LA, which was terrible fun, as well. Plus, they created the gorgeous poster you see above.

It has been sort of hard to come down from this adventure, all the nervous energy and racing around and then…back to work and grading papers and dog hugs. Strange transition. What I have noticed, though, is what has become important for me.

Here’s the thing: I hate marketing and find it a necessary evil. The truth is that I hate it because I am not very good at it. My default setting is SELF DEPRECIATING (that’s what it says on the dial). At the same time, I really want people to read my work. I want to connect to people. That connection is what is most important.

At the readings I’ve done so far both here in my rural oasis and in California, I have been able to really connect with people. The questions during the post-reading Q&A are never the same, which I find fascinating. And I have come to understand that my creation has a different impact on different people. This seems facile, but it runs really deep.

There are those who connect to the loss of a parent. There are those who connect to the loss of a loved one and the fantasy fulfillment of being able to hold onto correspondence from said loved one that seeks to clarify what, in life, may have been foggy. There are those who crave a closer relationship with a parent and see that illustrated in the book.

(This brings me to an aside about the term “daddy issues.” Someone asked a really insightful question at the LA reading about the appeal of Clem’s relationship with her father to those who suffer from — for lack of a better term — “daddy issues.” I think that those of us who don’t have the easiest father/daughter relationships can see the letters as hope that there are dads out there who are present and know how to connect with their daughters. But what really got to me was the term “daddy issues.” We all agreed that it is distasteful, but for some reason it really started to make me mad. Women who have difficult/horrible/non-existent/damaged relationships with their fathers are said (generally by men) to have “daddy issues” and it is in no way a compliment. There is no admiration there. We are seen as damaged goods and the onus is on US, not the shit fathers. So let’s lose that term. RANT OVER.)

Back to the connection aspect. There are those who connect to the mythology of California. There are those who connect to the aimlessness that Clem feels. There are those who love stories of the open road. There are those who connect to the inspection of identity, memory, and justice.

This connection is what is most important. Human to human connection is essential and the best way I can accomplish this is through the written word.

I still hear stories about how 1,033 Reasons to Smile touches people and provides them with small moments of happiness during the day. This is heavy. This is what everything is all about.

I hope that my words connect with you. I hope you share them with others who may want or need that connection. I hope you connect with as many people as possible in our short time on this blue dot. That’s what it’s all about.

 

awesome:

students reading plays aloud in class and getting super into it

FULL SIZE luxe toiletries at hotels (I’m looking at you, Sofitel on Beverly)

Diet Coke tallboys

my uncle

my brother

my aunt and her partner

dogs that sleep under the covers when it gets really cold

 

non-awesome:

those jackwads who protest outside of Planned Parenthoods

how I think I look vs. how I look in photos

the narcissism and wanton destruction of alcoholism

cold weather + old injured joints

so much so much so much

 

 

Driftwood is out and in full swing! It’s on the shelf, I am doing readings, and the (great) reviews are rolling in.

 

I am featured in this month’s The Gloss, a monthly insert in The Irish Times. Yup, Ireland. I think this means I need to go back for another visit, don’t you? They asked me about what books are on my bedside table. Here’s what the spread looks like:

 

 

Other cool news is that my reading at Green Apple Books in San Francisco on November 13 is now part of a larger party put on by the lovely Bold Italic. A “microhood” celebration of the Inner Richmond, there will be food and music and fun stuff and… me! I’ll be reading, signing, and handing out my cool promo pins. If you find yourself in the Bay Area on 11/13, be sure to stop by.

I have a local reading tomorrow night, which will be a lot of fun. Then I am off to the mothership, my darling California, for readings and meetings and general jet setting.

I hope to see you, dear reader, some time soon!

 

xo

hustlin’

Here we are only a few days away from the official release of Driftwood and I still don’t feel like it is real. (What REALLY freaks me out is the idea of my voice in a stranger’s ear reading the audiobook version)

I am, by nature, reclusive. Writing works well with that. Marketing? Not so much. But I am all about the game face. And I really am rather excited to get out there and share the book with people. The reception so far has been really warm and positive. That’s good. I can handle the not-so-nice stuff, too, should it pop up. What is important is that I love the book I wrote. Everyone gets their own take on things. Don’t like the book? That’s cool. I hope you find one that connects with you.

I can’t wait to read locally and then head out to California to spread the “Driftword.” I have cool stuff to hand out at the readings and I am eager to just connect with people over words and stories.

I am a firm believer in artful living. Let’s celebrate all of our creative achievements, no matter the scale, and just be overjoyed to be here in the first place. I have recalibrate the way I look at book marketing. I am not buying into the competition and numbers game. That is someone else’s job or calling. I want to share my work and connect on a human level. I want to go through all this with an open heart and healthy sense of adventure. I don’t want to lose the loose, artful elements of it all.

I look forward to seeing so many of you in Cheraw on 11/6, Chesterfield on 11/11, San Francisco on 11/13, and Los Angeles on 11/15.

In the meantime, stay rad and remember to review the book when you get a chance.

xo