Diane Chamberlain's Blog, page 10

Story Weekend: Spiders

I was out of town last week and when I returned home, I drove my car out of the garage only to discover it was covered in cobwebs and a million baby spiders! Shudder. We live in the woods and this is the price we pay. If you’ve “known” me long enough, you might remember the baby spider infestation in my old car, but this was far worse (although I didn’t see any inside the car this time, fingers crossed). I drove directly to the car wash–the one where they scrub and shine the outside and vacuum the inside. I was the only car there, since it’s pine pollen season and anyone in her right mind knows that if you wash your car, it will be clean for about five minutes before returning to neon yellow–the color of all vehicles this time of year in North Carolina. Anyhow, my car is now very yellow because I’m leaving it outside, afraid to put it back in the garage. Our pest guy can’t come for another week, and anyway, spiders are tough to get rid of. (Don’t tell me how they’re good for the environment, please. I’m happy to let them live in their environment–even in my house to a certain extent–but my tolerance stops at my car.

I’d love to hear your spider story. We had a very quiet Story Weekend last week–I never know what topic will spark your imagination and what won’t. Surely, though, everyone has a spider story!

If  you’re new to Story Weekend, here’s how it works: I pick a theme and you share something from your life that relates to that theme, however you interpret it. Thanks to all of you who’ve been contributing. As always, there are a few “rules”:

▪   The story must be true

▪   Try to keep it under 100 words. Embrace the challenge! That’s about six or seven lines in the comment form. I want others to read your story, and most people tend to skip if it’s too long. I know how tough it is to “write tight” but I hope you’ll accept this as a challenge. Happy writing!

 

Story Weekend: Reunion

I’m in New York for a “mini reunion” with some folks from my high school class. (I went to school in New Jersey, but we’re meeting in the city). Reunions can be powerful events as we revisit the past with the wisdom—one hopes—of the present. I’d love to hear your reunion story!

If  you’re new to Story Weekend, here’s how it works: I pick a theme and you share something from your life that relates to that theme, however you interpret it. Thanks to all of you who’ve been contributing. As always, there are a few “rules”:

▪   The story must be true

▪   Try to keep it under 100 words. Embrace the challenge! That’s about six or seven lines in the comment form. I want others to read your story, and most people tend to skip if it’s too long. I know how tough it is to “write tight” but I hope you’ll accept this as a challenge. I’ll probably have a good reunion story myself by Monday!

Can We Have a Little Tolerance, Please?

 Wow. On Facebook yesterday, I asked for suggestions for the name of an organization that would support gay and lesbian youth and that would form a good acronym. (The organization is created by a character in my work-in-progress.) I received tons of great responses. . . and a few not-so-nice retorts as well. I don’t mind the “I won’t read your book if you have gay people in it” comments; there are books I won’t read because the subject matter distresses me, so I can appreciate that. But I do mind comments that are ugly in their intolerance. In response to those comments, one of my readers asked “If you discovered the doctor about to perform life-saving surgery on you was gay, would you refuse the surgery?” Her question hit close to home for me.

My parents, whom I adored, were—let’s see, how to say this nicely?—bigots. To their credit, they raised my siblings and me not to be. They masked their true feelings so well that when I was asked to the senior prom by an African American boy, and a friend asked me if my parents would let me go with him, I responded “Of course! They don’t have a prejudiced bone in their bodies!” Well, ha. I discovered I was wrong about that, and thus I learned of their hypocrisy. After that experience, they didn’t hide their feelings as well, and I became aware of their bigotry in many ways, large and small. They were good, caring people, mind you, and I know some of their life experiences made them the way they were, but there’s no denying their animosity toward people who were different from them.

Then came my mother’s heart attack and the need for a quadruple bypass. We took her to a specialty hospital where she awaited the life-saving surgery. And then we met the surgeon. You guessed it. I’m sure if the situation had not been so critical, my parents would have asked for another surgeon. But time was of the essence and the surgery proceeded at the hands of the black man who promised to save my mother’s life.

We waited for hours upon hours in a tiny  room, some of us praying or trying to read and drinking buckets of coffee. Finally the surgeon came out and told us the surgery had gone very well. He shook my father’s hand, then left us. With a smile on his face and tears in his eyes, my father said over and over again, “Did you see his hands? Did you see how amazing and beautiful they were?” He was awestruck, and I believe, a little enlightened.

Did the experience change my parents? Yes, I think it did, at least to a degree. How could it not? But it shouldn’t take life-saving surgery by a black/white/Hispanic/Muslim/gay/lesbian/disabled doctor for us to see the value in every human being.

Story Weekend: Saying Goodbye

It may have been the day you left your five-year-old at the kindergarten door. Or it may have been that long embrace before your husband–or wife–was deployed overseas. Or may be it was the time you hugged your grandmother goodbye, knowing it would be the last hug you’d ever give her.

What is your Goodbye Story?

If  you’re new to Story Weekend, here’s how it works: I pick a theme and you share something from your life that relates to that theme, however you interpret it. Thanks to all of you who’ve been contributing. As always, there are a few “rules”:

▪   The story must be true

▪   Try to keep it under 100 words. Embrace the challenge! That’s about six or seven lines in the comment form. I want others to read your story, and most people tend to skip if it’s too long. I know how tough it is to “write tight” but I hope you’ll accept this as a challenge.

 

 

Story Weekend: What Brings You Comfort?

Do you have a story about something or someone who’s brought you comfort? We’d love to hear it.

Last week’s Story Weekend topic of “names” really took off. I hope you’ll share your stories on this topic as well. It’s so much fun to connect with one another this way!

If  you’re new to Story Weekend, here’s how it works: I pick a theme and you share something from your life that relates to that theme, however you interpret it. Thanks to all of you who’ve been contributing. As always, there are a few “rules”:

▪   The story must be true

▪   Try to keep it under 100 words. Embrace the challenge! That’s about six or seven lines in the comment form. I want others to read your story, and most people tend to skip if it’s too long. I know how tough it is to “write tight” but I hope you’ll accept this as a challenge.

 

 

Library Love

When I first started writing fiction, I’d take my notepad to my local library, which was then in San Diego. There was no Internet. I’d never heard of a laptop. It was just my notepad and me. . . and joy. Every true writer knows the thrill of having an idea and a pen and paper. The writing life was pretty simple!

Over the years, I got away from writing in the library. As my regular blog readers know, I write nearly every day at the Opium Den, also known as Starbucks. Oh, I visit the library to borrow books, but it’s been a very long time—more than a decade—since I spent hours in a library.

The past few days I’ve been struggling with part of my untitled work-in-progress (my 2014 book). A third of the story is told in letter form and the timeline was getting all screwed up. I knew I needed to spread out my notecards, but my dining room table is covered with the cards for the other two thirds of the book and the Opium Den doesn’t lend itself to spreading out.

That’s when I remembered this amazing resource just a few miles from my house.  I had the best time! I found a table I could have all to myself. I discovered the chairs at this newish, big library are super comfortable. You can tilt back in them without tipping over (I spent about ten minutes playing with and admiring the chair). Then I spread out all my cards, moved them around, and in a short time, everything fell into focus.  Magic! I only wish writing all those letters would be as easy as figuring out the order they should be in.

When’s the last time you visited your library? I can’t wait to go back!

Story Weekend: What’s in a Name?

How did you get your name? How did you choose your kids’ names? Your pet’s? What’s the story behind the names in your life?

Names are on my mind, since I have a new cast of characters to christen. I often pick a name, then audition it by writing a few scenes using it to see how it feels. I sometimes have to run through two or three names for my most important characters. Hopefully you didn’t have to do that with your kids!

So what’s your ‘name’ story?

If  you’re new to Story Weekend, here’s how it works: I pick a theme and you share something from your life that relates to that theme, however you interpret it. Thanks to all of you who’ve been contributing. As always, there are a few “rules”:

▪   The story must be true

▪   Try to keep it under 100 words. Embrace the challenge! That’s about six or seven lines in the comment form. I want others to read your story, and most people tend to skip if it’s too long. I know how tough it is to “write tight” but I hope you’ll accept this as a challenge.

 

Musical Nostalgia

I’m sitting in Starbucks (what else is new?) and they’re playing a song called “I Can’t Get Used to Losing You.” I just Googled to find out who’s performing it– a group called The English Beat. Has a bouncy little ska rhythm. And it’s bringing back memories that put a smile on my face.

All the young folks around me, tapping their toes to the music, have no idea that this is an ancient song. It goes all the way back to my middle school years. I was probably in the 7th grade when Andy Williams originally sang it, and it was not at all bouncy, but rather poignant and lovely. I remember being so captivated by it that I wrote down all the words.

Well, my mother stumbled across the notebook paper where I’d written the lyrics. She showed them to my father. They presented them to me, both awestruck by my writing ability as well as concerned that I penned lines like:

“No one else could take your place; Guess that I am just a hopeless case.”

I assured them this was a song from the radio and I think they were a little disappointed that I wasn’t the writer they’d thought me to be. Glad I was able to make it up to them with a few books later on.

What songs bring back memories when you hear them today?

 

 

Story Weekend: Home Decor

I just read in a home decor magazine that after years of popularity, the satin nickel finish on home hardware is giving way to brass. Hooray! I don’t have to replace all my brass doorknobs and fireplace surround after all! John was right that if we just waited long enough, it would come back in style. (But I still have my doubts…).

What’s your home decor story? If you’ve lived anyplace other than under a rock, I bet you have one.

If  you’re new to Story Weekend, here’s how it works: I pick a theme and you share something from your life that relates to that theme, however you interpret it. Thanks to all of you who’ve been contributing. As always, there are a few “rules”:

▪   The story must be true

▪   Try to keep it under 100 words. Embrace the challenge! That’s about six or seven lines in the comment form. I want others to read your story, and most people tend to skip if it’s too long. I know how tough it is to “write tight” but I hope you’ll accept this as a challenge.

 

 

 

A Sneak Peek at a Sneak Peek

One of my readers just let me know that The First Lie is already available for preorder, so I think it’s time for me to tell you about it. The First Lie is a short story inspired by my next novel, Necessary Lies, which will be out in September. Set on a tobacco farm in North Carolina, the story introduces you to thirteen-year-old Ivy Hart  on the night her fifteen-year-old sister gives birth. I wrote The First Lie after writing the book, and I loved getting to take my characters back a couple of years and discover a little more of their beginnings.

The First Lie will only be available in ebook format and only in the US. (Sorry UK and AU readers!) It sells for 99 cents. If you’d like to preorder or just read a little more about it, here’s the Amazon link, but it’s also available for other e-readers as well. Have fun!