Emilie Richards's Blog, page 21

Sunday Inspiration: From Failure to Happy Novelist

“When I was 15, I spent a month working on an archeological dig. I was talking to one of the archeologists one day during our lunch break and he asked those kinds of ‘getting to know you’ questions you ask young people: Do you play sports? What’s your favorite subject? And I told him, no I don’t play any sports. I do theater, I’m in choir, I play the violin and piano, I used to take art classes.

“And he went WOW. That’s amazing! And I said, ‘Oh no, but I’m not any good at ANY of them.’

“And he said something then that I will never forget and which absolutely blew my mind because no one had ever said anything like it to me before: ‘I don’t think being good at things is the point of doing them. I think you’ve got all these wonderful experiences with different skills, and that all teaches you things and makes you an interesting person, no matter how well you do them.’

“And that honestly changed my life. Because I went from a failure, someone who hadn’t been talented enough at anything to excel, to someone who did things because I enjoyed them. I had been raised in such an achievement-oriented environment, so inundated with the myth of Talent, that I thought it was only worth doing things if you could ‘Win’ at them.”

– Kurt Vonnegut, novelist

I’ve felt this way so many times in my life. Haven’t you? That feeling that I’m not good enough at something so I may as well give it up. As an author I’ve had my doubts.

It’s true that the myth of talent and perfection can destroy our spirit if we let it. It’s the totality of our experiences, skills, and talents that make us who we are and helps determine what we can become. And a big part of that totality is simply having the courage and determination to keep on going and growing in spite of setbacks and failures.

I’m thankful that Kurt Vonnegut, an especially talented and successful writer, had that courage.

Is there something in your life that you know you’ll never be really good at, but you do it anyway because you love it? I hope so. Because that makes you a real winner.

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Pulling Weeds (The House Guests)

A month ago I recounted my attempts to find Big Lake, which we knew from maps was somewhere in the state park near our Florida home.

Despite a hiking map and determination, the first time my husband and I tried to find it, we were unsuccessful. The second time we still weren’t sure we were on the right track, but with faith and determination–and a better look at the map–we finally found our lake. Success!

Of course, being a novelist, I compared this to finding a story I really wanted to tell when I set about writing my new book, The House Guests. Not just a story I stumbled on, but the one that I knew all along was waiting just over the horizon.

Today I want to tell you about weeds. And yes, if you make it to the end of this blog, you’ll see how weeds and writing are inextricably linked. I promise.

Most summers at the beginning of June we drive to Western New York to beat Florida’s heat and indulge in exciting programming at Chautauqua Institution, situated on Chautauqua Lake since just after the Civil War. Consequently lots of the homes here are old, including ours, which was built in 1895. But ours is not a lavish Victorian Painted Lady. In fact when we did the necessary renovations, our contractor pulled out the old windows on our sunporch, fully expecting to put new ones into the existing studs, only to find there were no studs. The windows had simply been inserted into holes in a plywood-like material more or less holding up the roof. Just one of many fascinating moments during renovation.

I would have preferred hidden treasure, even a diary or stack of love letters.  You, too?

Our house sits on a small lot in deep shade, much of it produced by the oldest elm on the grounds. We have no garden to speak of. So right at the beginning, we had to find plants that would grow with little sun and lots of tree roots. We’ve been moderately successful, relying on different species of brunnera, foxglove, hostas, and ferns. Every year we plump this out with colorful pots of impatiens, coleus, herbs and begonias.

We stayed in Florida last summer, not comfortable making the long drive under pandemic conditions. So this year when we arrived, we expected, and got, a yard overflowing with weeds. I’ll confess to being exhausted as I write this after four days of hoeing, pulling, fertilizing and mulching.

The hardest part of weeding anywhere is rooting out the bad guys and saving the good ones.

Through the years we’ve made some garden errors. When we bought the house I thought the sweet woodruff growing abundantly everywhere was lovely. I knew I couldn’t keep every bit, but I decided to let it have the edges of the garden. Now, each summer, I spend hours pulling it from the center of beds, because boundaries are not in the woodruff vocabulary. On a happier note I did immediately spot and root out  crown vetch , knowing it would take over our yard and every other for a mile if I allowed it to. I left the lily-of-the-valley to become a thick groundcover under the trees, and this year we’re removing everything else in its path to give it free rein. (You can see we still have a long way to go.)

You’ve weeded. You know the drill, right? Learn the difference between the plants that “look like” sweet woodruff but seem, instead, to be a kind of non-invasive astilbe. Pry up the “weed” with pink flowers (pink turtlehead?) because it’s trying to take over the universe. Pull some by hand, others with a weeding fork, try to get every little bit of the root. (Ha!)

As I weeded this week I couldn’t help thinking about The House Guests again.

Not only didn’t my “map” for the plot lead me where it was supposed to, but by the time I had found my story, I’d overwritten by 20 thousand words. When you see the book, you’ll wonder how that could have happened? Because the book is still bursting with story. I’ve written novellas with fewer words than I cut from The House Guests.

It turns out editing is like weeding.

The pretty little bits (woodruff) that try to take over the book have to be rooted out, no matter how appealing they are.  Sometimes the good stuff comes up with the bad stuff, and it’s impossible to transplant one without the other. Both have to go. Sometimes you think something lovely can stay and then you realize the entire story/bed has been transformed and not in a good way.

But the most important part of weeding a novel or a flower bed? Sorting slowly through every stalk, every leaf, every bit of green and with ruthless determination and a vision of the finished product, removing one word, sentence, even paragraph at a time in the same way a weed or patch of them has to be eliminated. No hoes allowed. No weedwackers. One weed at a time.

Before The House Guests went to my editor, I did exactly that. And by the time I’d finished, I didn’t lament a single word, phrase or paragraph. In the same way that my flower beds are much more pleasing after all that weeding, so is my book.

So, could I have weeded with more abandon?

I could have cut… Well, honestly, what could I have cut? The evolving friendship between Will and Savannah, the two teenage children of the main characters? Nope, because, well, you’ll see. I can only hint that a lot of the story depends on the kids. Could I have handled Mark’s character differently? Poor Mark died and was resurrected several times, changed professions, even changed personalities many times as the book progressed. Nope, Mark as he appears in the novel had to stay. I could have set the story somewhere less interesting or ignored the Greek culture of Tarpon Springs. But wow, do my readers want “less interesting?” I didn’t think so.

Twenty thousand words is a lot of words.

The book is tighter and more controlled, and additional pruning by my wonderful editor–another Emily–controlled it even more. I’m glad I weeded so carefully, and I’m happy to say I think you’ll like the result.

The House Guests is now available for pre-order and will be published on June 29th. My garden is and will always be a work in progress.

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Sunday Inspiration: Feed the hungry

“What Jesus never said: ‘Feed the hungry only if they have papers.’

‘Clothe the naked only if they’re from your country.’

‘Welcome the stranger only if there’s zero risk.’

‘Help the poor only if it’s convenient.’

‘Love your neighbor only if they look like you.'”

-James Martin, S.J.

Thank you, Father Martin. I appreciate your thoughtful wisdom and this important reminder at a difficult time in human history.

 

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Yiayia’s Kouzina (The House Guests)

The House Guests makes its debut at your favorite bookstore in just four weeks. I’ll be giving you hints about it for the rest of this month. And today’s hints are, of course, about food!

The House Guests is set in Tarpon Springs, Florida, which is home to a higher percentage of Greek Americans than any other city in the country. Greek sponge divers from the Dodecanese Island began arriving in the early 20th century to harvest the rich beds of sponges in the Gulf of Mexico. At one time sponges were the top industry in Florida, more important than citrus and tourism.

These days Tarpon Springs still leads the world production of natural sponges, but it’s also well known for St. Nicholas, its beautiful Greek Orthodox cathedral, the Sponge Docks, with their tourist shops on the Anclote River, and its fabulous Greek restaurants.

After deciding to set The House Guests in Tarpon Springs, how could I not have a Greek restaurant in my story? So welcome to Yiayia’s Kouzina (Grandmother’s Kitchen). Find a table and sit for a while. Then when Yiayia herself comes to welcome you, say yes to anything she suggests.

So let’s talk about Greek food, because, well, food, right? How else do we judge a place we want to visit—or read about?

I became a fan of Greek food in, of all places, Greece, when I visited years ago. I’ve experimented with it every since. Greek food is known for its place among the healthiest of cuisines, with an emphasis on baked, not fried food, and seasoning with fresh herbs instead of rich sauces–the bechamel here is an exception. Olive oil and lemon enhance many dishes, and the Greeks make fantastic use of the vegetables they grow and the fish from their native waters.

Moussaka for my friends on Valentine’s Day. Photo by Judy Schattner.

I’ve made many versions of moussaka, a classic Greek dish which appears on the menus of most Greek restaurants. Several years ago I was treated to this one when friends invited us to dinner–and you can see I later it put it to good use for more friends. I begged for the recipe because according to my taste buds, the combination of flavors is absolutely perfect.

I’d like to think Yiayia would approve of this recipe, so I’m going to call this version:

MOUSSAKA from YIAYIA’S KOUZINA

Ingredients:

MEAT SAUCE:
1C finely chopped onion
1½ lb. ground beef or lamb–I plan to try this with ground turkey soon.
3 cloves crushed garlic
1t dried oregano leaves
1t dried basil leaves – I used fresh
1t cinnamon
Dash of freshly ground pepper
2 cans (8 oz.)  tomato sauce (You can thin tomato paste with 2 cups of water if you don’t have tomato sauce.)

CREAM (BECHAMEL) SAUCE: (My hostess doubled this but I haven’t seen the need. The sauce is rich enough.)
4T flour
½t salt, dash of pepper
2T olive oil
4T butter
3 cups milk
4 eggs

EVERYTHING ELSE:
3 medium to large sized eggplants washed and peeled. (Fresh from the garden, eggplant may not need to be peeled.)
1t salt
½ C olive oil
2T dry bread crumbs
1 ½ C grated white Cheddar (Kefalotyri or another hard Greek cheese would be more authentic. Cheddar is still delicious.)
1C grated Parmesan

BROWN meat, garlic, onion 10 min.

ADD herbs, tomato sauce.

BRING to boiling, stirring to prevent sticking. Reduce heat and simmer uncovered for ½ hour. (To break up your time in the kitchen, you can do this the day before, along with the eggplant. Refrigerate overnight.)

HALVE peeled eggplant, sliced lengthwise and sliced crosswise ½ inch thick. Place on broiler pan. Brush both sides with olive oil. Broil 4 inches from heat 4 minutes per side or until golden. You can also spray with olive oil.

MAKE cream sauce. (Do not walk away from the stove. Concentrate! It’s not hard, I promise.) Melt butter, stir in flour, salt and pepper, and cook whisking constantly until bubbly. Add milk gradually. Bring to boiling, whisking until mixture is thickened. Remove from heat. Add ½ C grated Cheddar cheese; stir until melted and blended into sauce. In small bowl beat eggs, gradually beat in small trickles of hot cream-sauce stirring constantly to prevent egg from cooking. Return egg/sauce mixture to pan of sauce and mix. Set aside.
Preheat oven to 350 .

ASSEMBLE IN DEEP DISH BAKING DISH (12 X 8 X 2 or 13 X 9 X 2 are good for lasagna, too. An inexpensive example.):

Layer half of eggplant overlapping slightly if possible.Sprinkle with half of Parmesan and Cheddar cheeses.Stir bread crumbs into meat sauce and spoon entire meat sauce evenly over eggplant.Sprinkle remaining cheese over top.Layer rest of eggplant overlapped as before.Pour entire cream sauce over all. Sprinkle top with additional Parmesan cheese.

BAKE 35-40 minutes or until golden brown and top is set.

COOL slightly before serving. Cut into squares. Makes 12-15 servings.

FREEZE cooked or uncooked. Uncooked:  cover with layer of plastic wrap and second layer of foil. Thaw and cook 1 hour. It should be golden brown and set.

MORE GREEK GOODIES FROM YIAYIA’S KOUZINA:

I usually serve moussaka, as well as my favorite pastitsio, with the same horiatiki salad we couldn’t get enough of when we visited Greece. Cassie and Amber share a horiatiki salad at Yiayia’s Kouzina, in The House Guests because it’s, well, delicious.

Our version is simple: Fresh cucumbers, fresh tomatoes, Kalamata olives, slices of red onion, sprigs of fresh Greek oregano and a thick slice of Feta cheese. Before the cheese is perched on top of the sliced or chopped vegetables, we toss it with red wine vinegar and a splash of olive oil. Think of the onions and olives as garnishes. But the amounts are up to you depending on your own preference.

Fresh is the key to this salad and to anything Greek. The fresher the ingredients, the better. I highly recommend you rush out to your local garden store and buy a small Greek oregano plant for your container garden or border. In many places oregano will winter over and you’ll have all you need for possibly the rest of your life. It not, bring it inside and see if you can keep it until the weather warms again or start from seed indoors (teensy little things) in late winter. In a pinch you can use dried oregano or marjoram. But fresh is so much better.

Like the moussaka, I’ve made many versions of pastitsio, another dish topped with bechamel sauce. Recently I tried Ina Gaarten’s version, and loved everything about it. I used Kasseri cheese instead of Parmesan, and I scooped up real pastitsio pasta in Tarpon Springs to use instead of shells. You can find it on Amazon, too. I think this sent the dish over the top.

If all this sounds like a lot of work, here’s the good news: Both recipes can divided into individual portions and frozen, and they taste nearly as good heated in microwave safe containers and served later in the month. I won’t warn you to use them quickly. They won’t last long enough to worry about, but moussaka or pastitsio in the freezer is the definition of culinary security.

Still sound like too much work? Get ye to your local Greek restaurant and try something new. You won’t be sorry.

(I’m an Amazon Associate so if you order using the links I provided, I get an itty-bitty royalty.)

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Sunday Inspiration: In Memory

“A hero is someone who has given his or her life for something bigger than oneself.”

-Joseph Campbell

May we remember and honor today and every day all the heroes in our lives, those who have fought bravely for our country and those who have protected and nurtured it with their devotion and sacrifice.

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Northern Exposure?

Northern Exposure instead of Southern? Yep, this is packing week for our trip north. I’ll blog again once I’ve settled in. But I’m really looking forward to seeing family and friends, including the Brainstormers, who will visit for a few days in June.

Here’s a friendly reminder from a sign that I enjoy around the corner from our summer cottage. Can’t wait to see it again and follow its advice.

I hope your summer is filled with exciting plans and a return of at least a little freedom to move around. Keep yourself and others safe and go get ’em!

[image error]

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Sunday Inspiration: What am I looking for?

“If you are looking for verses in the Bible with which to support slavery, you will find them.
If you are looking for verses with which to abolish slavery, you will find them.
If you are looking for verses with which to oppress women, you will find them.
If you are looking for for verses with which to liberate or honor women, you will find them.
If you are looking for reasons to wage war, you will find them.
If you are looking for reasons to promote peace, you will find them.
If you are looking for an out-dated, irrelevant ancient text, you will find it.
If you are looking for truth, believe me, you will find it.
This is why there are times when the most instructive question to bring to the text is not “what does it say?”, but “what am I looking for?”
I suspect Jesus knew this when he said, “ask and it will be given to you, seek and you will find, knock and the door will be opened.”
If you want to do violence in this world, you will always find the weapons.
If you want to heal, you will always find the balm.”
― Rachel Held Evans, A Year of Biblical Womanhood

I realize I’m getting into sensitive territory when I talk about the Bible, since so many people have different viewpoints and they tend to be passionate about them. Still I couldn’t pass up this wonderful quote by Rachel Held Evans that I found in a recent Facebook post. The Bible has always been a vital part of my life, but I agree with the author that sometimes we only look for proof of our most deeply held convictions.

Because I’m no different from anybody else, I have to remind myself to look at the Bible — and life itself — from the deepest place in my heart, the place of love, compassion, peace, equality, and healing. And when I can do that I find the Bible becomes truly revelatory and transforming.

I hope the Bible, or whatever sacred text you read and study, is and will be for you as well.

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Finding Big Lake

Proman and I developed a number of ways to cope with the pandemic. I know many of you did, too, and I’ve been delighted to hear your tales. Here’s one of ours.

In addition to jigsaw puzzles and growing vegetables on our lanai, walks together became a favorite event this year. These were not the usual walks around our neighborhood. We’ve always done those for exercise, and now we needed new  horizons. One of our strategies–that did not involve a certain French bakery in downtown Venice–was to buy a state park pass. This makes particular sense for us because our house looks over one of the parks.

The strategy worked. We use the pass frequently, trying new paths, walking through the extensive campground and observing an eagle’s nest for signs of life On our walks and kayak trips down the creek we’ve come face to face with a bobcat, watched raccoons scurry along the water’s edge and learned how to turn our kayak on a dime when a whopping big alligator blocked access to the remainder of the creek.

One thing we hadn’t done until Mother’s Day was to find Big Lake. After many months, we finally realized we should ask the rangers for a hiking map, just to see what, if anything, we were missing. That was the moment we discovered there was a lake we hadn’t seen or whose existence we hadn’t even suspected.  We knew the time had come to find Big Lake.

Two weeks ago we set out for a walk, confident in our ability to read the map. An hour later we were back at the car after making wrong turns and tramping through scrub and sand. Big Lake had eluded us. We thought we might know where we’d gone wrong and decided to try again someday soon.

Someday soon was Mother’s Day. The weather was perfect but scorching temperatures were on the way again, so we knew this was our last chance. We took our map–but foolishly not water–and hiked to the place where we thought we’d gone wrong before.  Then we turned left instead of right. And once again we were exploring new territory.

We obviously weren’t the first to walk this way. The ground was covered with footprints, plenty of sneakers, many more raccoons and other prints we couldn’t identify, including what were probably wild hogs. We crossed under the Legacy trail for bikers and walkers that soon will stretch from Sarasota to Venice and walked beside South Creek where we’d kayaked the day before. Then, too soon, we were in the sun and scrub again, slogging through loose sand so white we could have been at the beach. We couldn’t see beyond the path on either side, and our GPS insisted we were walking where no one had gone before. We reached the inevitable point where we wondered if we should turn around and give up on Big Lake once and for all.

Instead we kept going. Although we couldn’t see what was beyond the scrub, we could see what might be a gap in the trees. With that as proof, we hoped when the path finally turned in that direction, we might be staring at Big Lake.

And that’s exactly what happened. Much farther than we thought, and well hidden until the very end, we arrived. The lake was not particularly big, and we could glimpse and hear cars a ways beyond it on an interstate access road. But we weren’t disappointed. Big Lake shimmered in the sun and we had it to ourselves. We hadn’t glimpsed a person or animal anywhere along the way. We climbed up to the observation post and simply enjoyed the view.

The way home was shorter because we found a better route, and after that hike of two-and-a-half miles (only two-and-a-half, but remember, sun, sand, scrub) we headed for home. Okay, we actually went to McDonalds for Sausage McGriddles and coffee, but pretend I didn’t tell you.

Big Lake had been found and conquered. Quite possibly we’ll never need to find it again.

So what, if anything does this have to do with writing? The whole time we walked I was reminded of the struggle to find the story I wanted to tell in The House Guests. Some books, like some destinations, reveal themselves a little at a time, with multiple false starts and dead ends. Some books lead you down one path, convincing you that is the best way to go, only to prove that a different turn in the road would have gotten you to a much better place.

The House Guests was one of those. As a writer, I’m a plotter, which is like a hiker who finds a detailed map and rarely gets lost. Before I start a book, I make sure I know exactly where I’m going. But not with this book. I killed off characters, brought them back to life, killed them off again. Some of my characters did not like what I had planned for them and forged their own paths. Some took over when they shouldn’t, and had to be whipped into shape. When I tried to explain the story to my brainstorming friends, they got lost immediately, because I was lost, too.

The House Guests was a destination I found without a good map to guide me. I had a starting point, but the rest was hidden in the scrub. Luckily, as I kept moving, hoping that what I saw in the distance was the story I knew was waiting, I grew more confident I was nearing success.  I could see something beyond the trees, so I chose to keep going. Sometimes writing is all about faith.

I don’t need to find Big Lake again, and now that The House Guests will soon be on its way to bookstores, I can move on to another book. I can find a new map, start a story with a new idea. But I’m so glad I took both journeys. My faith in maps is still strong, but now I know that sometimes you just have to wander to find your way.

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Sunday Inspiration: Happy Mother’s Day

“A mother’s love for her child is like nothing else in the world.

It knows no law, no pity.

It dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path.”

– Agatha Christie

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Sunday Inspiration: Worrying is worthless

“If you are ruminating about the past, or worrying about the future,
you will completely miss the experience…
The past is finished.
Learn from it and let it go.
The future is not even here yet.
Plan for it, but do not waste your time worrying about it.
Worrying is worthless.
When you stop ruminating about what has already happened,
when you stop worrying about what might never happen,
then you will be in the present moment.
Then you will begin to experience joy in life.”

-Thich Nhat Hanh

If only I could only live this way. So much wasted time worrying about things in the past that I can’t change or things in the future that will never happen. But being aware of the absurdity of this human dilemma allows me to let go a little more each time I remember. And that feels so good.

Where are you on this road?

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