Julia McDermott's Blog, page 24

Letting Go of Fear

Life is unpredictable, and sometimes scary.

A year ago, my family and I attended our second Relay for Life event at the University of Georgia with my son, a brain cancer survivor, Relay volunteer and UGA student. When we arrived, greeters gave us purple and white balloons and markers, and asked us to write on them something that we wanted to let go of.

After twenty-four months of worry and anxiety about dozens of post-treatment MRIs – all of which were “clean” – I knew exactly what to write on my balloon:

Later, after the event’s kickoff, we were all asked to let them go:

A year earlier, we experienced our first UGA Relay event in 2011. At the time, my son had been cancer-free for only six months. As the final leg of the actual relay to kick off the event, he ran in the torch:

In a few days, we will attend this year’s Relay for Life at UGA. My son got involved with Relay in the fall of 2010, weeks after he recovered from brain surgery at Duke and finished radiation therapy at Emory. He has told his story numerous times and helped raise funds for cancer research, serving on the executive board this year to help with corporate donations.

Just three years ago, I had no idea what was in store for my son and for our family. I’m a worrier by nature, a trait that sometimes went into overdrive while I was raising my children. I worried about things that might happen to them…but I never feared that any of them would get cancer.

Then one day, one of them did.

Before it happened, I began writing my novel, MAKE THAT DEUX. The protagonist, Jenny Miles, is 19 years old, the same age that my son was when he was diagnosed; he learned he had a brain tumor on his 19th birthday in May 2010.

After two surgeries, setbacks, despair, pain, suffering, and recovery, he started back to school as a sophomore at the University of Georgia in August 2010. In October of that year, he learned that he was cancer-free.

I know that at times, he was afraid. But he didn’t let fear overtake him. He lived through his illness with courage, strength and hope, and through his journey, he inspired me to let go of fear.

One of my favorite authors is Charles Dickens. Here’ a quote from his novel David Copperfield:

“We must meet reverses boldly, and not suffer them to frighten us, my dear. We must learn to act the play out. We must live misfortune down, Trot!”

My son’s gold survivor handprint and my purple caregiver one  at UGA Relay for Life 2012

“Be my guest,” she said!

Last month, I went to see Beauty and the Beast, performed by students at my kids’ high school. It was magnifique! Especially since I love pretty much anything French. My favorite song was “Be Our Guest.” Formidable!

Last week, my new friend Rachelle Ayala invited me to be her guest on her blog. Read about me and my book MAKE THAT DEUX here on her entry of today, April 9, 2013.

Merci, Rachelle!

Relationships: être ensemble – “to be together”

An article published today in the Wall Street Journal, Find a Man Today, Graduate Tomorrow by Emily Esfahani Smith is sure to spark some discussion.

The author (a member of Generation iY, or maybe just Y – and married) quotes her mother as telling her a few years ago: “You’re in college…There will never be a better time to meet someone…so start looking.”

Like Jenny, the main character in my novel MAKE THAT DEUX, I tend to like people who are direct – as long as they aren’t unkind or insensitive. I also happen to agree with that mom, who’s a member of my generation.

The Wedding Cake of a bride and groom
who met in college and got married last year
 

I know – declaring that I agree with her may not be wise. I’m sure that there are plenty of people who disagree – or, at least, who find that mom’s instruction advice distasteful  offensive somewhat objectionable. I’m not fond of confrontation…but I think there’s more to college life than academics, and more to life afterward than career, for women – and for men.

In a word, relationships.

I suppose I’m biased, because I met my husband when we were in college; many of my friends did not. Some met their husbands years later, either at work or through friends. Some married after going to graduate school, after beginning their careers, or both. I wonder sometimes how difficult it was for them to find the right man.

A few of my friends met their husbands (and got married) younger than I did; I found “The One” – my One – in college. It was (and I’m sure still is) a great place to meet guys, and to get to know them. When your biggest stress is writing a paper or studying for an exam (or both), well, it’s not like having the responsibilities of adult life, even single adult life. Normally, you have a lot more time available for friendships, fun and dating.

I didn’t set out “looking” for someone when I arrived at college, but I did look for relationships with friends – male and female – and I can’t imagine why young people today would not. You can have your cake and eat it, too relationships and achieve your academic and career goals, too. And sometimes, male friends can develop into something more…one of mine did.

I don’t apologize for finding the love of my life – or for him finding me – in college. Yes, we were both immature, but we matured together. I wanted company, and so did he. Turns out, initially, you’re going to be a rookie at adulthood. You can either do it alone, or do it with someone you love.

Perhaps because I did it, ça me fait en colère (it makes me mad) when I sometimes hear others say (self-righteously?) that you can’t, or that it isn’t smart to do so… or that, since they did not, no one should. Jenny in MAKE THAT DEUX (and her friends, and basically, her whole generation) believes that it’s just fine to find that special someone in college.

Pourquoi pas?

Allons à la plage (let’s go to the beach), Paperback Writer

“Dear Sir or Madam, will you read my book*?
It took me years to write, will you take a look?”
- The Beatles, “Paperback Writer”
 

For some most authors, writing a novel takes years. One day, you sit down at a blank computer screen and begin. And one day – sometime later on – your book is published. I began writing my book, MAKE THAT DEUX, several years ago. Now it’s available as a paperback…and an e-book. (Click on my HOME page above, or on BOOK, for buy links.)

The main character, Jenny Miles, lives in an apartment right on the beach, during her year as a student in the south of France.

La plage in France last summer, in front of the apartment building where I lived as a student in 1979-80

Next week, I’m heading to an American beach for Spring Break. I’m looking forward to the sunshine and gentle ocean breezes; a few clouds or showers won’t bother me, as long as they don’t stick around. But no matter what the weather, I’m ready for sand and  salty air while reading writing my next paperback (or e-book).

A vrai dire (to tell the truth), I’ll be doing both, in between long walks on the beach.

I hope to finish the draft of my work-in-progress (a Suspense novel) in the next few weeks. Then it’s time to revise, ask for feedback, revise, edit, and – one day – publish. After that, I’ll begin to write another story I’ve outlined (and that I can’t wait to start), then finish the (unnamed) sequel to MAKE THAT DEUX. 

Because “I want to be a Paperback Writer.”

Joyeuses Pâques! (Happy Easter!)

* “It was… short.”
“I loved it.”
- Jacob and Robert Marley in A Muppet Christmas Carol.
 

A Pat o’ Butter in a Sea o’ Grits

Growing up in Atlanta in a family where the father did the cooking, I never realized that grits were a southern dish.

My parents were born and raised in southwest Virginia, went to college and got married in Tennessee, and “moved away from there” as young parents, before I came along…to Indiana, Texas, Massachusetts, Missouri and finally, Georgia.

But everywhere they lived, la cuisine chez nous was distinctly southern. Tomato Gravy, or Sausage Gravy, and Buttermilk Biscuits, made from scratch. Apple Butter. Country Ham and Red Eye Gravy. Potato Cakes. Chicken and Dumplings. Cornbread. Sweet Tea. Fried Green Tomatoes. Sweet Potato Casserole. Sometimes, Breakfast for Dinner.

And Grits.

I married a Yankee who had never heard of them, and whose talents as a chef  (later on) rivaled surpassed my father’s. Mon mari grew up in a big family where the mom had a weekly dinner menu: Monday was hamburgers, Tuesday was spaghetti, Wednesday was hot dogs, Thursday was chicken, and Friday was grilled cheese and tomato soup.

So, when he was in college in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, and his uncle sent him the cookbook  Fearless Cooking for Men, he decided to learn to cook.

With simple, tasty recipes, the world of cooking opened up to him. He enjoyed the benefits of making dinner in his dorm room and off-campus apartment: it was cheaper than going out, and convenient on the weekend, with his weekday-only student meal plan.

And it was a great way to a woman’s my heart.

Over the years, he’s evolved into a gourmet chef. His cookbook library has grown to include a variety of cuisines, including all of Julia Child’s recipes – she’s a favorite, and we both love la cuisine française. He’s also become acquainted with southern dishes, and introduced me to “northern” ones and their accoutrements.

Creamed Onions. Turnips. String Beans. “Southern” Fried Chicken (I always thought it was just Fried Chicken, but they add a qualifier.) Corn Fritters. Rolls (in place of biscuits, and store-bought). Ketchup on Scrambled Eggs.

I’ve adopted that last one, and for family birthday meals, “Southern” Fried Chicken and Corn Fritters are a tradition, but at least I don’t put maple syrup on mine. The rest of the above dishes are just, well, not me. At my urging, my husband has tasted grits, but he doesn’t love them and has never cooked them (even though they’re great with butter*).

Which brings me to the title of this post: another name for Chapel Hill, North Carolina.

I didn’t hear the Southern Part of Heaven** described that way until I met him, just after I turned eighteen. But “a pat o’ butter in a sea o’ grits” seemed perfect: if North Carolina (my second favorite state) is the grits, then yes, Chapel Hill is the pat of butter in the middle, dressing it up and making that tasty, buttery difference.

Other than my first Christmas break, the next summer, and ten months in the south of France – the experience on which my novel MAKE THAT DEUX is drawn –  I spent as much time as I could in Chapel Hill between 1977 and 1981. My year in France was wonderful, but the tradeoff was missing a year in Chapel Hill and UNC, the most beautiful college campus in le monde…

My daughter just found out she’s been accepted there as a freshman this fall, and she’s thrilled to be a Tar Heel. I’m not sure if she likes grits as much as I do, but I know she’s a big fan of butter.

* See my post of October 3, 2012: What would Julia do? Faire la cuisine française.

** also known as a little slice of heaven…

Make that…my Book Trailer!

Voici ma vidéo….!

click here to watch the video!
https://vimeo.com/62004504

From storyboard to final release, it was a pleasure to work with Frank Martin, who did the animation for my Book Trailer! Merci, Monsieur! 

Alors, qu’est-ce que vous en pensez? (What do you think?)

A (baker’s) dozen little-known facts – about me

Look for my BOOK TRAILER to be released soon for MAKE THAT DEUX!

While I wait for the finishing touches on it, here’s some trivia about me. My family (and relatives) know most of these faits peu connus (some of which are a bit embarrassante), but the rest of the world may not:

1. When I lived in France for a year as an exchange student, I didn’t (yet) have a driver’s license. But it wasn’t necessary to have one to drive a moped (mobylette). Phew!

Not my mobylette, but the same color mine was. (Why didn’t I take a picture? Because cameras – and film – were expensive!)

2. Since my birthday is October 20, I was always one of the oldest in my class growing up (when I started 1st grade, you had to be 6 years old by Oct. 1). In 9th grade, I set out to finish high school in 3 years, which I did, tying with another girl for 1st in my class. When I started at UNC, I was 17.

3. I was 2nd-runner-up in my high school beauty pageant (“Miss Tiger”).

4. I worked at the Carolina Coffee Shop on Franklin Street (and other restaurants) when I was a student in Chapel Hill, and I once waited on Alan Alda. I don’t remember getting a big tip…

5. I didn’t get my ears pierced until I was 26 years old and pregnant with twins, & I’ve never had another ear piercing (or any other kind).

6. One of my sons is a brain cancer survivor and was operated on by a renowned Duke neurosurgeon.* My son is doing terrific now & is involved in Relay for Life at UGA, which helps raise funds for cancer research.

7. I don’t wear bracelets or turtlenecks (though I used to wear both, but only once in a blue moon).

As a college freshman, wearing one of the two turtlenecks I remember ever owning.

8. I’m a slow reader, and always struggled to make A’s in English (which I did in high school, but not in college…Oops!)

9. Maybe because I’m very nearsighted (and my parents didn’t realize that until I was 12), I didn’t learn to ride a bicycle until I was 10 years old. I couldn’t see the ground in front of me!

10. I don’t get seasick, but I do get migraines occasionally.

11. My hair is naturally curly, and while my kids were growing up, I experimented with many different hairstyles and lengths.

Me when my third child was a toddler and my twins were in 1st grade

12. I left the promising field of computers and technology in the mid 1980s to stay home and raise my 4 children for 20 years, during which my family moved across the country 4 times.

13. I don’t know how to cook (much)…actually, that’s a well-known fact about me!

 * Dr. Allan H. Friedman, Neurosurgeon-in-Chief, Duke University Hospital; the same doctor who operated on Senator Ted Kennedy several years ago.

Being thoughtful: la gentillesse, la prévenance, ou l’humeur pensive…

I’m a “thinker” by nature, which works pretty well as an author. But in life, it sometimes presents a challenge.

In English, the word “thoughtful” has different meanings, and in French, there are different words for them. Simply put, la gentillesse veut dire (means) “kindness,” la prévenance veut dire “consideration,” et l’humeur pensive veut dire “pensiveness.”

I strive to practice the first two. After all, being unkind or inconsiderate isn’t very nice. But the last one applies to me as well, and sometimes my tendency to ponder, reflect and ruminate overshadows everything. That’s when I have to be careful to channel my thoughts in the direction of writing (primarily) fiction, since it involves lots of thinking.

Me, as an exchange student in France.  Was I thinking about how I would one day write a novel based on my experience? Qui sait? (Who knows?)

Reflection can lead to empathy, and I’m naturally empathetic, a plus when it comes to creating a character and getting inside his or her head. Imagining what my characters are feeling helps me to know what they should say, what they should do and how they should do it. It’s kind of like being in the creativity “zone.”

However, in real life, (over)thinking can be problematic and even painful – or at least, stressful. I do my best to prevent that, but when it comes down to it, my nature is what it is. Que faire?

Write. That’s what to do.

Because life is full of fodder for novels like the one I wrote, MAKE THAT DEUX (and the one I’m working on now) – and if I don’t think about that, I won’t be able to use it. So really, being a “thinker” is not too bad a thing, and quite useful.

Back to la gentillesse and la prévenance: both are also very useful – and necessary – in life, but not so much in writing a tension-filled story. But creating conflict in fiction doesn’t have to include the opposite of these.

Except for when I’m showing the reader le méchant (the villain)*…

* A major character in my Work-in-Progress.

Habit (partie deux), plateaus and follow-through

“Best advice I’ve ever received: Finish.”

- Peter Mayle

Last June,* I wrote about habit and routines, and my readiness to examine my own. My creative side has always resisted them: I wanted to choose what to do and when to do it, letting spontaneity rule. On the other hand, I was happy I was practicing good health habits (like eating a light, healthy breakfast and exercising regularly) and I was ready to dispose of my bad ones (like drinking too many diet Cokes).

Two truths from a book I had just read were helpful:

1. Replacing a bad habit with a good one works much better than just discarding the bad.

2. Routines save mental energy: you’re freed from making daily choices, and can focus on more important decisions.

I decided it was a mid-year’s resolution time, and I made changes. But it wasn’t until three months later that I began to hold myself accountable to them.

In September, instead of just drinking fewer sodas, I cut them out completely and replaced them with water. I started keeping track of exercise and meals, and when the right choices (soon) became habit, they were much easier to maintain. I felt as though I had discovered the secret (for me) of a healthy lifestyle.

I didn’t make my new choices routines impossible to practice, and since then I’ve stayed on track. Because I was afraid I’d jinx myself (or maybe because I didn’t want to have to defend my decisions), I didn’t tell many people about my newfound resolve or progress. And when others offered unsolicited advice, I smiled, listened, and carried on. What I was doing was working.

I had to be more flexible when it came to my work routines – not what they were, but when to perform them. In the fall, I worked my writing schedule around taking a seriously ill family member to her medical appointments, but I managed to keep it up; thankfully, she’s now healthy again.

Then there was the publication of my novel MAKE THAT DEUX. A short interruption in my writing routine, it took a little time and effort in October to travel from my computer files to e-readers and booksellers. Then, I added marketing to my routine.

But in health – and in writing – I’ve hit some plateaus….which can be very frustrating. I’ve learned something very important about them, though:

Helicopter views of plateaus in the Grand Canyon

They don’t go on forever…and to get past them, you have to keep going.

I’m an East Coast girl: I love Atlanta and the Appalachian Mountains, where my ancestors lived, and I’m not crazy about the rugged majesty of the Rockies. Sometimes, when I hit a plateau, I feel like I’m out west facing a beckoning frontier, but one that’s not getting any much closer.

Mais, il faut continuer.

Which brings me to follow-through. I like to bring my endeavors to completion – I don’t like to start unless I feel that I will, come what may. It may sound inflexible, but it’s not; flexibility is key to finishing. I try to save my choices for when I’ll need them: to adapt, to redirect, to coach myself, to revise and improve. I’m determined to get it done, so I keep going, and then…I finish.

“Nothing is particularly hard if you divide it into small jobs.”

-Henry Ford

* See my post of June 6, 2012: D’habitude: routine

All things French: tout ce qui est français

What is it about the French? A joie de vivre, or just… a certain je ne sais quoi?

Je ne sais pas exactement, mais… for me (and millions of others), it’s an unmistakable something. For a country, ça me rappelle (it reminds me) of…that something, possessed by some girls (and women). Lisa, a character in my novel MAKE THAT DEUX, has it:

that something which is undeniably attractive, captivating and alluring.

En revanche (on the other hand), perhaps not everybody feels that way. Some people are not big fans of la politique en France, la culture, or even la cuisine (but two out of three isn’t bad). And some people are fans of all three.

I love all things French, or tout ce qui est français, including the language, the people, and the beauty. I even like their sense of humor,* and while I’m not crazy about existentialism, I get it, though some of their movie endings me rendent folle. De toute façon, mon sujet:

Here are a few of my favorite (French) things:

Champagne. Wine. Cheese. Boulangeries. Pâté. Truffles. Baguettes. 

Cafés. Café au lait. Pâtisseries. Macaroons.

Museums. Promenades, and parks. Monuments. Art. Palaces. Châteaux. Vineyards. Lavendar.

Nice. La plage. Les peitits villages de Provence. Aix. Avignon. Nîmes. Montpellier. Carcassonne. Lyon. Beaujolais.

A street in Montpellier where I once motored on my mobylette, régulièrement

And…Paris.

A view of the Champs -Elysées

Jenny Miles (the main character in my novel) has her own favorite things about life in France, but some of them she simply can’t afford with her few extra French francs, back when no one had thought of (?) the Euro (!) . It’s not that she doesn’t have un rond (well, except for that second time in Paris), but she is glad to get free admittance to lots of museums with her Carte d’Etudiant (student ID):

*Below, une blague, courtesy of mon prof, Madame Marie-Hélène:  ”Si vous n’avez pas ‘un rond,’ ca veut dire que vous n’avez pas d’argent !! ( penniless! )”