Kim Golden's Blog - Posts Tagged "writing"
Two Expats Talking Shop
A few weeks ago, fellow writer and former expat Emily Breunig asked me if she could interview me for her blog. We ended up having a great chat session in which we talked about Maybe Baby, our characters, the expat life and a whole lot more.One of the things we ended up talking about a lot was this idea of the disconnect and rootlessness a lot of expats feel. I've been an expat American for over twenty years now, so I can relate. I love the life I have here in Sweden. I sometimes miss my life in the US but I've been away so long that I feel like a tourist when I am there. It's disconcerting.
I think my character Laney feels a similar rootlessness. For her it is more pronounced: she has no family to go back to the US for--her mother is dead, her father abandoned her. Her only family now is her cousin Eddy, Eddy's mother and her Swedish boyfriend, Niklas. Is it any wonder she feels so confused about exploring the unknown? Well, that's for you to decide when you read Maybe Baby.
Emily and I have both written about the expat experience. Her novel, A Ghost at the Edge of the Sea, is out on submission and is represented by the Levine Greenberg Literary Agency. And while Maybe Baby deals with the game of love and an expat woman at a crossroads in her life, A Ghost... deals with ghosts, parallel universes and the afterlife in modern day Shanghai.
I can't wait for Emily's book to finally be published. Or maybe she'll take the plunge and go down the self-publishing road.
Prepping for NaNoWriMo
Every year, I (and loads of other writers) go a bit bonkers in the pursuit of completing a 50K+ word novel in a month. Yes, I mean NaNoWriMo.
My 2011 NaNo novel became my first novel, Snowbound, which I published last autumn. I had a blast writing it and a lot of people enjoyed reading it, even though some people thought Mia didn't deserve an HEA. Well, I am already working on a little story about Mia & Jake so that might be a Christmas present to their fans. :)
My 2012 NaNo novel became my second novel, Maybe Baby/i>, which I published in March, ended up for a while in the Kindle Top 100 list for its genre and won an award. It also caused many women to fall in love with Mads, the Danish sperm donor/furniture maker. I don't blame them. I have a bit of a crush on my own creation too. ;)
Last year was not a good NaNo year for me. I managed to write a 25K manuscript, come to the realization that I hated what I was writing and couldn't muster the energy or resolve to finish.
But this year is different...I feel ready to write my heart away, and we'll be returning to Copenhagen for more of Laney & Mads's story. So this weekend, I'll be prepping an outline so I won't find myself sitting in front of my MacBook Air and wondering what the heck I am doing.
Come November, I'll keep you updated here and on my author sitewith progress reports. I'll even post excerpts so you can see what's going on--but keep in mind it will be a very rough draft and probably full of typos. :)
My 2011 NaNo novel became my first novel, Snowbound, which I published last autumn. I had a blast writing it and a lot of people enjoyed reading it, even though some people thought Mia didn't deserve an HEA. Well, I am already working on a little story about Mia & Jake so that might be a Christmas present to their fans. :)
My 2012 NaNo novel became my second novel, Maybe Baby/i>, which I published in March, ended up for a while in the Kindle Top 100 list for its genre and won an award. It also caused many women to fall in love with Mads, the Danish sperm donor/furniture maker. I don't blame them. I have a bit of a crush on my own creation too. ;)Last year was not a good NaNo year for me. I managed to write a 25K manuscript, come to the realization that I hated what I was writing and couldn't muster the energy or resolve to finish.
But this year is different...I feel ready to write my heart away, and we'll be returning to Copenhagen for more of Laney & Mads's story. So this weekend, I'll be prepping an outline so I won't find myself sitting in front of my MacBook Air and wondering what the heck I am doing.
Come November, I'll keep you updated here and on my author sitewith progress reports. I'll even post excerpts so you can see what's going on--but keep in mind it will be a very rough draft and probably full of typos. :)
30 Days, 30 Stories: Story #2
Story #2: Huckleberries
------------------------
We spent every summer in Virginia. There was never any question of it. As soon as school let out, either one of my uncles would drive up from Smithfield and take us there, or my mother would take us on either the bus on the train. My father never went with us to Smithfield. Sometimes he drove down to bring us back home again, but more often than not we took the train from Newport News back to Philadelphia. I don't think my father liked being in the countryside. He was too much of a city person. He always seemed ill at ease whenever he was there.
Though I know it isn't the case, I always remember those Virginia summers as being perpetually sunny and hot. My cousins and I explored every inch of the woods behind my grandparens' house on Scotts Factory Road. We tried to scare each other with creepy stories of axe murderers, escaped convicts and zombies. But mostly what we did was pick huckleberries.
Every morning my grandmother would spray us with OFF! and we'd head off to the woods, searching for perfectly ripe huckleberries. Nana would tell us not to go too far into the woods, but we rarely listened. As far as we were concerned, the woods were ours. We imagined ourselves to be adventurers as we scrambled over fallen trees and ran along the bumpy paths through the trees.
Sometimes we'd convince ourselves a bear was nearby. I don't think we ever saw one, but we were certain there surely had to be bears--and wolves too--in the wilds of Smithfield, Virginia. On occassion we spotted deer, hawks or possums. Sometimes an owl in the trees. Most of the time we heard frogs croaking in the foliage and we'd find toads and snakes and treefrogs.
And while we sought out those sweet, juicy berries, we debated which was better: Star Trek or Star Wars, the Jeffersons or Good Times, Scooby Doo or the Flintstones, Speedracer or the Monkees... or we'd make up goofy songs while we swatted away flies and mosquitoes.
At some point we'd realize our buckets were full to the brim with the huckleberries we loved so much. Instead of going directly back to our grandmother's house, we'd find someplace to sit or venture to a dilapidated shed we'd found and hang out there, eating handfuls of the berries while the blackish blue juice dripped down our arms and stained our t-shirts.
We always made sure we saved enough so that our grandmother would reward us with huckleberry muffins, huckleberry pancakes or--our favorite--huckleberry ice cream. Nothing compared to our grandmother's homemade ice cream. Not even the gelato I love to eat during Italian vacations compares.
Last summer I bought a package of huckleberries while I was in the US. Now that my grandmother is dead, no one in the family seems to know the recipe for her ice cream, but eating those berries on that sticky, humid day took me back to those idyllic summers in Smithfield and it reminded me of how much I miss my grandparetns.
I wish they were still with us.
------------------------
We spent every summer in Virginia. There was never any question of it. As soon as school let out, either one of my uncles would drive up from Smithfield and take us there, or my mother would take us on either the bus on the train. My father never went with us to Smithfield. Sometimes he drove down to bring us back home again, but more often than not we took the train from Newport News back to Philadelphia. I don't think my father liked being in the countryside. He was too much of a city person. He always seemed ill at ease whenever he was there.
Though I know it isn't the case, I always remember those Virginia summers as being perpetually sunny and hot. My cousins and I explored every inch of the woods behind my grandparens' house on Scotts Factory Road. We tried to scare each other with creepy stories of axe murderers, escaped convicts and zombies. But mostly what we did was pick huckleberries.
Every morning my grandmother would spray us with OFF! and we'd head off to the woods, searching for perfectly ripe huckleberries. Nana would tell us not to go too far into the woods, but we rarely listened. As far as we were concerned, the woods were ours. We imagined ourselves to be adventurers as we scrambled over fallen trees and ran along the bumpy paths through the trees.
Sometimes we'd convince ourselves a bear was nearby. I don't think we ever saw one, but we were certain there surely had to be bears--and wolves too--in the wilds of Smithfield, Virginia. On occassion we spotted deer, hawks or possums. Sometimes an owl in the trees. Most of the time we heard frogs croaking in the foliage and we'd find toads and snakes and treefrogs.
And while we sought out those sweet, juicy berries, we debated which was better: Star Trek or Star Wars, the Jeffersons or Good Times, Scooby Doo or the Flintstones, Speedracer or the Monkees... or we'd make up goofy songs while we swatted away flies and mosquitoes.
At some point we'd realize our buckets were full to the brim with the huckleberries we loved so much. Instead of going directly back to our grandmother's house, we'd find someplace to sit or venture to a dilapidated shed we'd found and hang out there, eating handfuls of the berries while the blackish blue juice dripped down our arms and stained our t-shirts.
We always made sure we saved enough so that our grandmother would reward us with huckleberry muffins, huckleberry pancakes or--our favorite--huckleberry ice cream. Nothing compared to our grandmother's homemade ice cream. Not even the gelato I love to eat during Italian vacations compares.
Last summer I bought a package of huckleberries while I was in the US. Now that my grandmother is dead, no one in the family seems to know the recipe for her ice cream, but eating those berries on that sticky, humid day took me back to those idyllic summers in Smithfield and it reminded me of how much I miss my grandparetns.
I wish they were still with us.
Registered for NaNoWriMo!
Reading my way through sick leave
There's nothing like being on sick leave to give you plenty of time to catch up on your reading. On Tuesday, I had laparoscopic surgery on my stomach and will be at home now for a month. I've got time to read and to write and I am going to make the most of it.
I've already got an idea for a new serial love story. I've begun jotting down notes for it. I also have two new stories for upcoming anthologies and I am really excited about it. I'll try to get as much of it done before my sick leave is over.
And what am I reading?
I've already got an idea for a new serial love story. I've begun jotting down notes for it. I also have two new stories for upcoming anthologies and I am really excited about it. I'll try to get as much of it done before my sick leave is over.
And what am I reading?
Losing Two People You Care About Does a Number on Your Writing Mojo
We're three months into 2019 and I am already off track with my writing goals.
No, this is not due to laziness or distraction.
You see, in late November, I lost a dear friend and her death really threw me for a loop. Somehow, I managed to finish NaNoWriMo even though I lost all steam and all motivation when I found out about her death. Understandably, I found myself feeling incredibly sad and sometimes a little hopeless and with no inspiration but I kept chugging along.
In late December, after housesitting in England for a week, I felt like my writing mojo returned. I'd started plotting a novella for an upcoming anthology and was feeling really positive about the coming year. And then, on 2 January--the day before my birthday--my younger brother died. I am still reeling from his death. It feels like it has sucked everything from me.
I manage to get things done for the freelance projects I've committed to but for my fiction projects my output has been nil. I've been trying to write my away through my grief but it's not really happening.
I have so many projects I want to work on but there's this gaping hole inside of me that is where my brother and my love for him lived.
The only thing I have managed to do is go through the first draft of Imagine Me & You and make notes of what needs to be fixed and where I need to add scenes. I haven't managed to write any of those scenes yet. I hope I can soon. I really wanted to release it already now in March but that will not happen. Not when I am still missing my younger brother and wishing I could have done more to keep him healthy and alive.
I don't know how many people are even interested in my books these days, but if you are, just know I haven't forgotten you. I am still grieving my friend and my brother and wishing they were both still in my life. And sometimes writing doesn't feel that important. I'm hoping this feeling will go away soon. I miss writing. I am trying to write every day. But some days the words just refuse to come no matter what I do. And sometimes the only thing that helps is disappearing into someone else's book.
I haven't given up. I hope soon I can have some news about when something new will be published.
No, this is not due to laziness or distraction.
You see, in late November, I lost a dear friend and her death really threw me for a loop. Somehow, I managed to finish NaNoWriMo even though I lost all steam and all motivation when I found out about her death. Understandably, I found myself feeling incredibly sad and sometimes a little hopeless and with no inspiration but I kept chugging along.
In late December, after housesitting in England for a week, I felt like my writing mojo returned. I'd started plotting a novella for an upcoming anthology and was feeling really positive about the coming year. And then, on 2 January--the day before my birthday--my younger brother died. I am still reeling from his death. It feels like it has sucked everything from me.
I manage to get things done for the freelance projects I've committed to but for my fiction projects my output has been nil. I've been trying to write my away through my grief but it's not really happening.
I have so many projects I want to work on but there's this gaping hole inside of me that is where my brother and my love for him lived.
The only thing I have managed to do is go through the first draft of Imagine Me & You and make notes of what needs to be fixed and where I need to add scenes. I haven't managed to write any of those scenes yet. I hope I can soon. I really wanted to release it already now in March but that will not happen. Not when I am still missing my younger brother and wishing I could have done more to keep him healthy and alive.
I don't know how many people are even interested in my books these days, but if you are, just know I haven't forgotten you. I am still grieving my friend and my brother and wishing they were both still in my life. And sometimes writing doesn't feel that important. I'm hoping this feeling will go away soon. I miss writing. I am trying to write every day. But some days the words just refuse to come no matter what I do. And sometimes the only thing that helps is disappearing into someone else's book.
I haven't given up. I hope soon I can have some news about when something new will be published.
Feeling inspired
It's been a pretty busy summer! I've done a lot of traveling over the last few months (Sicily, Copenhagen, the US, and soon to southern Sweden, Copenhagen again and Matera). I think these frequent changes of scenery have been good for me. I feel like I regaining my previous joy of writing, even if the writing is going slowly these days. I am simply happy the words are finally flowing again.
While I was in the US, I attended the annual RWA conference, this time in New York City. I had a great time while I was there--met my idols: Sandra Kitt, Rochelle Alers and Brenda Jackson. Along the way, I bumped into Megan Crane, had drinks with Moni Boyce and Lucy Eden, had dinner at Morris Motel with Lily Java.
I also was lucky enough to see the Swedish-American horror movie, Midsommar, with Nia Forrester and have lunch with Tia Kelly.
Now I am back in Sweden and it already feels like summer's moved on (cue A-ha's song "Summer Moved On" while I mourn not being able to wear shorts these days). I've been doing a lot of reading and enjoying everything I've read so far. But what's making me so happy these days is knowing that my desire to write is back. Which means I will hopefully have a new book for you soon. I'll keep you posted.
P.S. Two books I highly recommend that you read...
...if you like historical fiction?
And if you want women's fiction?
While I was in the US, I attended the annual RWA conference, this time in New York City. I had a great time while I was there--met my idols: Sandra Kitt, Rochelle Alers and Brenda Jackson. Along the way, I bumped into Megan Crane, had drinks with Moni Boyce and Lucy Eden, had dinner at Morris Motel with Lily Java.
I also was lucky enough to see the Swedish-American horror movie, Midsommar, with Nia Forrester and have lunch with Tia Kelly.
Now I am back in Sweden and it already feels like summer's moved on (cue A-ha's song "Summer Moved On" while I mourn not being able to wear shorts these days). I've been doing a lot of reading and enjoying everything I've read so far. But what's making me so happy these days is knowing that my desire to write is back. Which means I will hopefully have a new book for you soon. I'll keep you posted.
P.S. Two books I highly recommend that you read...
...if you like historical fiction?
And if you want women's fiction?
