Diane Chamberlain's Blog, page 36
December 2, 2009
Up, Up and . . . Down.
Over the next few posts, I’m going to share some of the research that went into the writing of my recently resissued novel, Breaking the Silence. I’ll write about the secret CIA Mind Control experiments in which my character, Sarah Tolley, was a participant, and I’ll talk about my personal experience with selective mutism, which is five-year-old Emma’s affliction.
Right now, though, I’m going to start on a lighter note as I describe my harrowing experience with hot air balloons. In Breaking the Silence, Dylan Geer makes his living as a hot air balloon pilot. Since he’s a point-of-view character, I wanted to understand what his world was like. During the time I was researching Breaking the Silence, my brother-in-law worked for a hot air balloon company, so I was able to quickly schedule a flight. The weather, though, didn’t care about my connections, and six flights were cancelled because of high winds or rain. A seventh had to be cancelled when we hit a traffic jam on the beltway around Washington DC on our way to the launch site. I was living in Northern Virginia at the time, and as those of you familiar with that area know, traffic can come to a standstill that lasts hours. And this one did. Darkness was falling by the time we gave up and headed back home.
Finally, it looked as though the eighth flight would be a go and we arrived at the launch site with time to spare. There were to be two flights that evening, and ours would be the second. My then-husband and I climbed into the chase vehicle while the first set of passengers–four senior citizens–were helped into the basket. I was excited to have the time in the chase vehicle, and I whipped out my pad and pen to take notes as we drove all over rural Maryland trying to keep the balloon in sight. The winds were misbehaving a bit. They would misbehave a bit more before the evening was over.
Part of the role of the chase crew is to find a landing site for the balloon. This was a challenge, since the balloon seemed to be flying farther and faster than anyone had anticipated. Finally, we found a field. The only building was a beautful, big farmhouse and the crew asked the owners for permission to land the balloon on their land. Then we all stood around and watched the distant dot in the sky as it grew bigger and bigger, heading smoothly for the field near the house.
Suddenly, a gust of wind grabbed hold of the balloon, lifting it abruptly into the air again and out of reach of the crew. Everyone on the ground and in the balloon started yelling and shouting (and maybe even screaming and ducking; that would be me) as the balloon headed directly for the chase vehicle. The basket bashed into the side of the van, and then the wind pulled both balloon and basket rapidly down the gravel driveway. The chase crew, my ex, and the adult family members from the farmhouse ran after the basket, trying to stop its sideways slide. The balloon itself smashed into the farmhouse, finally bringing the basket’s wild ride to a halt. Thankfully, injuries to the passengers were minor–a bloody gash on a leg and some very jangled nerves–but the balloon was not so lucky–it suffered tears that would require repair before it could fly again. I can’t say I was unhappy about that! No way was I going up that day.
But I was determined to have my flight. A few weeks later, I climbed into that same basket on a balmy evening and we rose into the air. I had one minor moment of “Ack! This is high!” before settling into the amazing sensation of sailing far above the ground. We were up there no more than ten minutes, though, when it started to sprinkle. The sprinkle turned to real, serious rain, and our pilot began searching for a place to land. In communication with the chase crew, he learned of a quarry not far from where we were flying.
When you think of landing a balloon, you think of a nice flat field, don’t you? Maybe there’d be a goat or a bull in the field, but that would be the worst of it. But a quarry? We had to land and land fast, and the quarry was our only choice. I was able to see firsthand the skill of our pilot as he maneuvered our balloon between two rock walls, dodged the jagged remnant of a dead tree trunk by–I swear–one inch, and brought the basket down with a thud on the narrow road that ran through the quarry. I will end my tale here, and only mention in passing that the gates leading out of the quarry were locked, with the balloon and basket and us on one side and the chase vehicle and crew on the other.
Dylan Geer, my commitment phobic character, has one close call with his balloon, though not quite as dramatic as what I actually witnessed. It was fun getting to write about something as light-hearted as hot air balloons in an otherwise serious story.
I hope I get to fly in a hot air balloon again, but I’m going to wait until I’m someplace where there are wide open spaces and no wind and no chance of rain. Does a place like that exist?
Right now, though, I’m going to start on a lighter note as I describe my harrowing experience with hot air balloons. In Breaking the Silence, Dylan Geer makes his living as a hot air balloon pilot. Since he’s a point-of-view character, I wanted to understand what his world was like. During the time I was researching Breaking the Silence, my brother-in-law worked for a hot air balloon company, so I was able to quickly schedule a flight. The weather, though, didn’t care about my connections, and six flights were cancelled because of high winds or rain. A seventh had to be cancelled when we hit a traffic jam on the beltway around Washington DC on our way to the launch site. I was living in Northern Virginia at the time, and as those of you familiar with that area know, traffic can come to a standstill that lasts hours. And this one did. Darkness was falling by the time we gave up and headed back home.
Finally, it looked as though the eighth flight would be a go and we arrived at the launch site with time to spare. There were to be two flights that evening, and ours would be the second. My then-husband and I climbed into the chase vehicle while the first set of passengers–four senior citizens–were helped into the basket. I was excited to have the time in the chase vehicle, and I whipped out my pad and pen to take notes as we drove all over rural Maryland trying to keep the balloon in sight. The winds were misbehaving a bit. They would misbehave a bit more before the evening was over.
Part of the role of the chase crew is to find a landing site for the balloon. This was a challenge, since the balloon seemed to be flying farther and faster than anyone had anticipated. Finally, we found a field. The only building was a beautful, big farmhouse and the crew asked the owners for permission to land the balloon on their land. Then we all stood around and watched the distant dot in the sky as it grew bigger and bigger, heading smoothly for the field near the house.
Suddenly, a gust of wind grabbed hold of the balloon, lifting it abruptly into the air again and out of reach of the crew. Everyone on the ground and in the balloon started yelling and shouting (and maybe even screaming and ducking; that would be me) as the balloon headed directly for the chase vehicle. The basket bashed into the side of the van, and then the wind pulled both balloon and basket rapidly down the gravel driveway. The chase crew, my ex, and the adult family members from the farmhouse ran after the basket, trying to stop its sideways slide. The balloon itself smashed into the farmhouse, finally bringing the basket’s wild ride to a halt. Thankfully, injuries to the passengers were minor–a bloody gash on a leg and some very jangled nerves–but the balloon was not so lucky–it suffered tears that would require repair before it could fly again. I can’t say I was unhappy about that! No way was I going up that day.
But I was determined to have my flight. A few weeks later, I climbed into that same basket on a balmy evening and we rose into the air. I had one minor moment of “Ack! This is high!” before settling into the amazing sensation of sailing far above the ground. We were up there no more than ten minutes, though, when it started to sprinkle. The sprinkle turned to real, serious rain, and our pilot began searching for a place to land. In communication with the chase crew, he learned of a quarry not far from where we were flying.
When you think of landing a balloon, you think of a nice flat field, don’t you? Maybe there’d be a goat or a bull in the field, but that would be the worst of it. But a quarry? We had to land and land fast, and the quarry was our only choice. I was able to see firsthand the skill of our pilot as he maneuvered our balloon between two rock walls, dodged the jagged remnant of a dead tree trunk by–I swear–one inch, and brought the basket down with a thud on the narrow road that ran through the quarry. I will end my tale here, and only mention in passing that the gates leading out of the quarry were locked, with the balloon and basket and us on one side and the chase vehicle and crew on the other.
Dylan Geer, my commitment phobic character, has one close call with his balloon, though not quite as dramatic as what I actually witnessed. It was fun getting to write about something as light-hearted as hot air balloons in an otherwise serious story.
I hope I get to fly in a hot air balloon again, but I’m going to wait until I’m someplace where there are wide open spaces and no wind and no chance of rain. Does a place like that exist?
November 30, 2009
Cool New Toy!
Want to waste some time? Go to Wordle and paste in something you’ve written. Wordle creates a word cloud displaying the words in your document according to how often you’ve used them. You can pick out any colors and fonts and layout you like. I’ve pasted the first chapter from Breaking the Silence (which you can read here if you like) into Wordle and created the above cloud. It’s definitely Laura’s story! Her five-year-old daughter, Emma, comes in a close second in this chapter, in which Laura’s father makes a deathbed request that she take care of a woman who is a stranger to her.
I can see how this could be a good tool to pick up overused words in my writing. I apparently use a lot of “eyes” and ”hands”, at least in this chapter. My most annoying overused word is usually “winced”, and I’m glad not to see that here. My brother, Rob Lopresti, is also a writer and here’s what he wrote a while back in one of his blogs, which I found pretty funny:
First I check for the words I tend to overuse. They are usually the bits of physical punctuation that fit between lines of dialog, like frown, shrug, and sigh. (My sister Diane Chamberlain says that the characters in her novels tend to wince too much, which suggests that while being in one of my works is boring, being in hers is actually painful.)
LOL!
So anyway, I can see how this tool could be useful in catching overused words, but more than that, I think it’s fun and the results are kind of pretty. Have some time to waste? Hop over to Wordle, paste in your latest words of wisdom. Even if they’re not pretty on the written page, they’ll look pretty on your monitor!
I can see how this could be a good tool to pick up overused words in my writing. I apparently use a lot of “eyes” and ”hands”, at least in this chapter. My most annoying overused word is usually “winced”, and I’m glad not to see that here. My brother, Rob Lopresti, is also a writer and here’s what he wrote a while back in one of his blogs, which I found pretty funny:
First I check for the words I tend to overuse. They are usually the bits of physical punctuation that fit between lines of dialog, like frown, shrug, and sigh. (My sister Diane Chamberlain says that the characters in her novels tend to wince too much, which suggests that while being in one of my works is boring, being in hers is actually painful.)
LOL!
So anyway, I can see how this tool could be useful in catching overused words, but more than that, I think it’s fun and the results are kind of pretty. Have some time to waste? Hop over to Wordle, paste in your latest words of wisdom. Even if they’re not pretty on the written page, they’ll look pretty on your monitor!
November 25, 2009
Breaking the Silence is Here!
I’m thrilled that Breaking the Silence has been reissued so that my newer readers get to enjoy this suspenseful story. It should be available today, November 24th, online and in stores, and you can read an exerpt from it here. (If your book store doesn’t have it, remember that they can order it for you at no charge). This book is one of my favorites and I love the new cover. I thought I’d share an interview I did for this special reissue with you. Note to readers groups: This book is a particularly great one for discussion, and a readers’ guide is available on my website. I’ll be posting a bit more about the research that went into Breaking the Silence over the next couple of weeks. Enjoy!
Q. How would you describe Breaking the Silence?
A. Like most of my books, Breaking the Silence is part suspense, part mystery, part romance, and one hundred percent family drama. The plot is complex, with seemingly unrelated threads: a five-year-old girl who suddenly stops talking, an elderly woman who was involved in the CIA mind control experiments during the fifties, a commitment-phobic man who flies hot air balloons for a living, and a female astronomer who gradually pulls the threads of the story together.
Q. Who would enjoy reading Breaking the Silence?
A. My audience is generally made up of women of all ages, including young adults, who I believe will love the intergenerational story, the mother-daughter bond, and the romantic elements. I also have a faithful contingent of male readers, and they particular seem to enjoy Breaking the Silence because of the strong element of psychological suspense.
Q. How did you come up with the storyline for Breaking the Silence?
A. When thinking about ideas for a new book, I like to wander through the nonfiction stacks at the library to see what jumps out at me. I stumbled across a book on the CIA mind control program on one of those forays through the library and became fascinated by the devastating human stories inside. As I began reading about the toll the MK-ULTRA project took on its victims and their families, the idea for Breaking the Silence began to take shape in my mind.
While the mind control experiments gave me the idea for the book, the main focus in the novel is the relationships between the characters. I try to create characters who will have the most difficult time coping with the events in a particular story in order to increase the tension. In Breaking the Silence, I created Sarah, an elderly woman suffering from Alzheimer’s, and Emma, a little girl who doesn’t speak. They are two people at different ends of the age spectrum who have one thing in common—they can’t communicate about the secrets each of them carries.
Q. There are some heavy topics addressed in Breaking the Silence: Alzheimer’s, mutism, suicide, mind control. Can the book possibly have a happy ending?
A. Breaking the Silence ends on a realistic yet upbeat note that I think will satisfy my readers. I personally don’t care to read books that end tragically or with too much of the story left unresolved. That’s why I try to give my novels satisfying endings. Some things—Alzheimer’s, for example—are unfixable, but as long as my characters meet the challenge of handling their problems with courage and integrity, I think readers will cheer them on.
Q. What themes do you explore in Breaking the Silence?
A. One of the strongest themes in Breaking the Silence is the value of every human being, whether he or she has Alzheimer’s, is a psychiatric patient, or a five-year-old child. The destructive nature of secrets, the bond between generations as well as between mothers and daughters, and the enduring power of love are other themes explored in the story.
Q. What was the most difficult part of writing Breaking the Silence?
A. It’s always a challenge to move back and forth between the past and present when writing a novel. Three quarters of Breaking the Silence takes place in the present, but the rest of it is Sarah’s story from her days as a psychiatric nurse. When I write a book set in two diverse time periods, I often write the entire past story first so that I don’t lose the sense of time and place or the voice of the character. I wrote Sarah’s story in its entirety. Then I built the current day events around it so that the pieces of the story flow together—seamlessly, I hope.
Q. You have a background as a psychotherapist. How did that influence this story?
A. As a psychotherapist, my first concern was to “do no harm,” so it was hard to imagine psychiatric workers taking part in something as horrific as the mind control experiments. That was one reason I wanted to write the story of the past from the point of view of a nurse rather than a patient. I believe it’s clear in the book how the charismatic psychiatrist in charge was able to persuade his staff that his approaches were at the cutting edge of the field.
I was also interested in how the therapist in the story would work with Emma, especially when Emma and Sarah are brought together during a session. Emma and her selective mutism intrigued me, but my heart went out to Sarah. There’s a tendency to forget that Alzheimer’s patients have a world of memories locked deep inside them. I liked creating a character who was still able to give something to the people around her in spite of her illness.
Q. What do you enjoy most about being a novelist?
A. I love being able to touch thousands of people around the world with my stories. One of my Japanese readers emailed me to say, “You make me believe that life is beautiful even if it is also filled with pain and rage.” Her words mean so much to me, and that is the message I’d love my readers to take away with them from Breaking the Silence.
Q. How would you describe Breaking the Silence?
A. Like most of my books, Breaking the Silence is part suspense, part mystery, part romance, and one hundred percent family drama. The plot is complex, with seemingly unrelated threads: a five-year-old girl who suddenly stops talking, an elderly woman who was involved in the CIA mind control experiments during the fifties, a commitment-phobic man who flies hot air balloons for a living, and a female astronomer who gradually pulls the threads of the story together.
Q. Who would enjoy reading Breaking the Silence?
A. My audience is generally made up of women of all ages, including young adults, who I believe will love the intergenerational story, the mother-daughter bond, and the romantic elements. I also have a faithful contingent of male readers, and they particular seem to enjoy Breaking the Silence because of the strong element of psychological suspense.
Q. How did you come up with the storyline for Breaking the Silence?
A. When thinking about ideas for a new book, I like to wander through the nonfiction stacks at the library to see what jumps out at me. I stumbled across a book on the CIA mind control program on one of those forays through the library and became fascinated by the devastating human stories inside. As I began reading about the toll the MK-ULTRA project took on its victims and their families, the idea for Breaking the Silence began to take shape in my mind.
While the mind control experiments gave me the idea for the book, the main focus in the novel is the relationships between the characters. I try to create characters who will have the most difficult time coping with the events in a particular story in order to increase the tension. In Breaking the Silence, I created Sarah, an elderly woman suffering from Alzheimer’s, and Emma, a little girl who doesn’t speak. They are two people at different ends of the age spectrum who have one thing in common—they can’t communicate about the secrets each of them carries.
Q. There are some heavy topics addressed in Breaking the Silence: Alzheimer’s, mutism, suicide, mind control. Can the book possibly have a happy ending?
A. Breaking the Silence ends on a realistic yet upbeat note that I think will satisfy my readers. I personally don’t care to read books that end tragically or with too much of the story left unresolved. That’s why I try to give my novels satisfying endings. Some things—Alzheimer’s, for example—are unfixable, but as long as my characters meet the challenge of handling their problems with courage and integrity, I think readers will cheer them on.
Q. What themes do you explore in Breaking the Silence?
A. One of the strongest themes in Breaking the Silence is the value of every human being, whether he or she has Alzheimer’s, is a psychiatric patient, or a five-year-old child. The destructive nature of secrets, the bond between generations as well as between mothers and daughters, and the enduring power of love are other themes explored in the story.
Q. What was the most difficult part of writing Breaking the Silence?
A. It’s always a challenge to move back and forth between the past and present when writing a novel. Three quarters of Breaking the Silence takes place in the present, but the rest of it is Sarah’s story from her days as a psychiatric nurse. When I write a book set in two diverse time periods, I often write the entire past story first so that I don’t lose the sense of time and place or the voice of the character. I wrote Sarah’s story in its entirety. Then I built the current day events around it so that the pieces of the story flow together—seamlessly, I hope.
Q. You have a background as a psychotherapist. How did that influence this story?
A. As a psychotherapist, my first concern was to “do no harm,” so it was hard to imagine psychiatric workers taking part in something as horrific as the mind control experiments. That was one reason I wanted to write the story of the past from the point of view of a nurse rather than a patient. I believe it’s clear in the book how the charismatic psychiatrist in charge was able to persuade his staff that his approaches were at the cutting edge of the field.
I was also interested in how the therapist in the story would work with Emma, especially when Emma and Sarah are brought together during a session. Emma and her selective mutism intrigued me, but my heart went out to Sarah. There’s a tendency to forget that Alzheimer’s patients have a world of memories locked deep inside them. I liked creating a character who was still able to give something to the people around her in spite of her illness.
Q. What do you enjoy most about being a novelist?
A. I love being able to touch thousands of people around the world with my stories. One of my Japanese readers emailed me to say, “You make me believe that life is beautiful even if it is also filled with pain and rage.” Her words mean so much to me, and that is the message I’d love my readers to take away with them from Breaking the Silence.
November 21, 2009
Balderdash!
I drove down the long gravel driveway to the Weymouth mansion Thursday afternoon with a prayer of gratitude on my lips. Coming here is like flipping a switch from the world of laundry and grocery shopping and doctors’ appointments and phone calls to the world of writing and nature and friends. Sarah Shaber was the first person I saw when I climbed the stairs to the writers’ section of the house, and she said she’d felt a lump in her throat as she came up the driveway. Clearly, I wasn’t alone in my joy and gratitude. I knew I wouldn’t be.
We’re all gathered here now (me, Margaret Maron, Katy Munger, Sarah Shaber, Alexandra Sokoloff and Mary Kay Andrews. We’re missing–in more ways than one–Bren Witchger, who couldn’t join us this time). The Weymouth Mansion opens its doors to serious writers who have a North Carolina connection. In our case, we’re all published and we all understand the trials and tribulations of the business and the writing process. It costs us nothing to stay here for up to two weeks each year, though most of us make donations to help with utilities and maintenance. Our rooms are small, but the mansion is huge and we each carve out our personal space in which to write. Our needs this week are simple: M & M peanuts, two games (Balderdash and Taboo), the ability to check our email, and our works-in-progress. We brainstorm with one another and take solo, meditative walks around the beautiful grounds, but for the most part, we work and it’s fantastic to suddenly realize you’ve written twelve pages almost effortlessly.
Today was a little different. We actually put on make-up this morning and dressed in something other than sweats, because a writer and photographer were coming from Our State Magazine to do an article on us. Someone at Our State had heard about our twice-yearly retreats and asked if they could spend half a day with us. I asked the writer, Anne Webb, to snap this shot of us on the stairs with my camera as we posed for the “real” photographer, Natalie Ross. It was fun to share our morning with Anne and Natalie, and we’re all looking forward to May, when the article will appear in Our State. Of course, their visit wreaked havoc on our writing schedule, but it didn’t matter. When I was wandering outside after their visit, I stumbled across Natalie (in the Witches’ Garden) who asked if I’d like a Native American spiritual card reading. I jumped at the chance–knowing I’d have her read the cards for my character rather than myself (see my blog post on Tarot for writers). We found a sunny spot and sat down on a bed of pine needles. Natalie pulled out her deck of special cards, and in about five minutes, I had an unexected twist for my storyline. The whole thing was kind of woo-woo and wonderful.
So now, the wine is being poured as we all catch up on our writing and ponder where to go for dinner. (One of us who shall remain nameless is munching M&Ms; not me. I’ve already had my fill for the day). After dinner, we’ll play Taboo, since we wore out Balderdash last night (Anyone know what a prickmadam is? We do now!) Alex won’t play–she is the real workhorse of the group, rarely taking a break, and she eats healthy food all the time, but we love her anyway!
I’ll check in with another post later in the week. Till then, enjoy whatever you’re reading, knowing that some of your favorite authors are here, spinning new tales for you!
We’re all gathered here now (me, Margaret Maron, Katy Munger, Sarah Shaber, Alexandra Sokoloff and Mary Kay Andrews. We’re missing–in more ways than one–Bren Witchger, who couldn’t join us this time). The Weymouth Mansion opens its doors to serious writers who have a North Carolina connection. In our case, we’re all published and we all understand the trials and tribulations of the business and the writing process. It costs us nothing to stay here for up to two weeks each year, though most of us make donations to help with utilities and maintenance. Our rooms are small, but the mansion is huge and we each carve out our personal space in which to write. Our needs this week are simple: M & M peanuts, two games (Balderdash and Taboo), the ability to check our email, and our works-in-progress. We brainstorm with one another and take solo, meditative walks around the beautiful grounds, but for the most part, we work and it’s fantastic to suddenly realize you’ve written twelve pages almost effortlessly.
Today was a little different. We actually put on make-up this morning and dressed in something other than sweats, because a writer and photographer were coming from Our State Magazine to do an article on us. Someone at Our State had heard about our twice-yearly retreats and asked if they could spend half a day with us. I asked the writer, Anne Webb, to snap this shot of us on the stairs with my camera as we posed for the “real” photographer, Natalie Ross. It was fun to share our morning with Anne and Natalie, and we’re all looking forward to May, when the article will appear in Our State. Of course, their visit wreaked havoc on our writing schedule, but it didn’t matter. When I was wandering outside after their visit, I stumbled across Natalie (in the Witches’ Garden) who asked if I’d like a Native American spiritual card reading. I jumped at the chance–knowing I’d have her read the cards for my character rather than myself (see my blog post on Tarot for writers). We found a sunny spot and sat down on a bed of pine needles. Natalie pulled out her deck of special cards, and in about five minutes, I had an unexected twist for my storyline. The whole thing was kind of woo-woo and wonderful.
So now, the wine is being poured as we all catch up on our writing and ponder where to go for dinner. (One of us who shall remain nameless is munching M&Ms; not me. I’ve already had my fill for the day). After dinner, we’ll play Taboo, since we wore out Balderdash last night (Anyone know what a prickmadam is? We do now!) Alex won’t play–she is the real workhorse of the group, rarely taking a break, and she eats healthy food all the time, but we love her anyway!
I’ll check in with another post later in the week. Till then, enjoy whatever you’re reading, knowing that some of your favorite authors are here, spinning new tales for you!
November 20, 2009
Tears and Laughter
I asked my Facebook readers if they like books and movies that make them cry. I found the answers fascinating because there were so many different takes on the subject. Some people feel manipulated by a writer if they’re moved to tears. Others like a little tear-jerkiness as long as they don’t feel manipulated. Still others think a good cry means the author or screenwriter has done a good job.
A few people prefer laughter to tears when reading a book or watching a movie, and some don’t care whether they laugh or cry as long as they feel something. A few want to read for escape, period, which means no tears, thank you very much.
All of this made me ponder my own feelings about what I read or watch. I enjoy comedy, but I’m more drawn to drama, as you could guess if you’ve ever read my books. I do love a good cry, but if I feel manipulated I will be annoyed, and the writer had better not harm so much as a toenail of an animal and if she can leave out the Holocaust and all other forms of man’s inhumanity to man, even better.
I like subtlety–the tears that catch me unawares. The gentle relationship between Julia and Paul Child in Julie and Julia, for example. The joyous reunion of Jamal and Latika in Slumdog Millionaire. The tender scene in A Beautiful Mind where Alicia tells John she needs to believe “something extraordinary is possible.” I’ve wept during any number of scenes in books like Audrey Niffenegger’s The Time Traveler’s Wife, Kathryn Stockett’s The Help, and Marisa de los Santos’ light-but-touching Belong to Me. Those books and movies will stay with me for a long, long time because of the emotion I felt as I enjoyed them.
That’s the bottom line, isn’t it? Enjoyment? What do you turn to for your reading and viewing pleasure? Do you prefer to be moved to tears or laughter. . . or both?
A few people prefer laughter to tears when reading a book or watching a movie, and some don’t care whether they laugh or cry as long as they feel something. A few want to read for escape, period, which means no tears, thank you very much.
All of this made me ponder my own feelings about what I read or watch. I enjoy comedy, but I’m more drawn to drama, as you could guess if you’ve ever read my books. I do love a good cry, but if I feel manipulated I will be annoyed, and the writer had better not harm so much as a toenail of an animal and if she can leave out the Holocaust and all other forms of man’s inhumanity to man, even better.
I like subtlety–the tears that catch me unawares. The gentle relationship between Julia and Paul Child in Julie and Julia, for example. The joyous reunion of Jamal and Latika in Slumdog Millionaire. The tender scene in A Beautiful Mind where Alicia tells John she needs to believe “something extraordinary is possible.” I’ve wept during any number of scenes in books like Audrey Niffenegger’s The Time Traveler’s Wife, Kathryn Stockett’s The Help, and Marisa de los Santos’ light-but-touching Belong to Me. Those books and movies will stay with me for a long, long time because of the emotion I felt as I enjoyed them.
That’s the bottom line, isn’t it? Enjoyment? What do you turn to for your reading and viewing pleasure? Do you prefer to be moved to tears or laughter. . . or both?
November 14, 2009
With Writer Friends
I just returned from a reunion with my old critique group. We all lived near Mount Vernon–George’s home–when we first got together, so we named ourselves the Mount Vernon Writer’s Group. Our first meeting was a very long time ago. As a matter of fact, it was the day I sent my first full manuscript to my first agent. I was so young and nervous! I think we were all young and nervous about our writing in those days. (That book became my first published novel, but not until four long years later).
We were all working on novels back then, and we’d read and critique each other’s writing every week. We were a diverse group in terms of age, backgrounds and interests, but we had writing in common and that drew us together. Over the years, other writers have come and gone and members of this core group have moved away, but we’ve never lost touch. We’ve had varying levels of success, but we all have talent and we truly helped one another hone our skills.
This week, we met at one of our member’s homes at beautiful (if rainy) Smith Mountain Lake, Virginia, for a reunion. We read from our works-in-progress, caught up on our lives, ate gumbo, went out for Italian food, played Cranium, and got wet puppy kisses from Wally, one of my favorite dogs in the world.
We can still remember bits and pieces of our work from twenty years ago, especially the parts that made us laugh. The only negative was saying goodbye again. Can’t wait until the next time!
We were all working on novels back then, and we’d read and critique each other’s writing every week. We were a diverse group in terms of age, backgrounds and interests, but we had writing in common and that drew us together. Over the years, other writers have come and gone and members of this core group have moved away, but we’ve never lost touch. We’ve had varying levels of success, but we all have talent and we truly helped one another hone our skills.
This week, we met at one of our member’s homes at beautiful (if rainy) Smith Mountain Lake, Virginia, for a reunion. We read from our works-in-progress, caught up on our lives, ate gumbo, went out for Italian food, played Cranium, and got wet puppy kisses from Wally, one of my favorite dogs in the world.
We can still remember bits and pieces of our work from twenty years ago, especially the parts that made us laugh. The only negative was saying goodbye again. Can’t wait until the next time!
November 9, 2009
Cartomancy and Character
I’m not much of a believer in the occult, but I do love Tarot, not in any small part because the 78 cards in a Tarot deck can be so beautiful. There’s something undeniably fascinating in the symbols and images, and it’s easy to get caught up the magic.
My first reading was done by a real pro: author Nora Roberts. We were at the Washington Romance Writers’ annual retreat at the fabulous Hilltop House in Harpers Ferry, West Virginia, and Nora was doing readings for her friends. I think she told me my marriage was destined to last forever. The next reading I had was by another fellow writer, the late, beautiful Virginia Ellis, shortly after my divorce. Ha! So as I said, I’m not much of a believer, but I do believe in taking brainstorming help wherever I can get it, and a good Tarot Card reading–for a writers’ characters rather than for the writer herself–can jumpstart a scene, or even an entire book.
Like Nora, Gin Ellis was a generous reader. At a Novelists, Inc conference in Santa Fe one year, she read for every major character in my work-in-progress. I learned one character’s deepest, darkest secret, why another was afraid to be a mother, and why yet another chose his particular career. There are many, many other ways to brainstorm, but none as intriguing or fun as Tarot.
I’m aware of one book on Tarot specifically for writers (Tarot for Writers, by Corrinne Kenner), but I’m sure there are more, because writers have turned to Tarot over the years (over the centuries, since Tarot’s been around that long) to help them develop characters and story lines.
Tarot came into play with my upcoming novel, The Lies We Told. I didn’t use it to help me brainstorm, but my characters themselves use it to. . . well, I’ll wait until the book comes out to tell you!
So how about you? Have you ever had a Tarot reading?
My first reading was done by a real pro: author Nora Roberts. We were at the Washington Romance Writers’ annual retreat at the fabulous Hilltop House in Harpers Ferry, West Virginia, and Nora was doing readings for her friends. I think she told me my marriage was destined to last forever. The next reading I had was by another fellow writer, the late, beautiful Virginia Ellis, shortly after my divorce. Ha! So as I said, I’m not much of a believer, but I do believe in taking brainstorming help wherever I can get it, and a good Tarot Card reading–for a writers’ characters rather than for the writer herself–can jumpstart a scene, or even an entire book.
Like Nora, Gin Ellis was a generous reader. At a Novelists, Inc conference in Santa Fe one year, she read for every major character in my work-in-progress. I learned one character’s deepest, darkest secret, why another was afraid to be a mother, and why yet another chose his particular career. There are many, many other ways to brainstorm, but none as intriguing or fun as Tarot.
I’m aware of one book on Tarot specifically for writers (Tarot for Writers, by Corrinne Kenner), but I’m sure there are more, because writers have turned to Tarot over the years (over the centuries, since Tarot’s been around that long) to help them develop characters and story lines.
Tarot came into play with my upcoming novel, The Lies We Told. I didn’t use it to help me brainstorm, but my characters themselves use it to. . . well, I’ll wait until the book comes out to tell you!
So how about you? Have you ever had a Tarot reading?
Singing Humbly
I’ve reached the age where I know what I do well: I write well. I can structure the heck out of a novel. I can create characters who will make you weep. I’m a pretty good teacher. I enjoy public speaking.
Then there are other things that teach me humility.
Today, I sat in Starbucks running through my notes for a characterization workshop I’ll be teaching at the November 14th meeting of the Heart of Carolina Romance Writers. I have this giant folder into which I’ve thrown all sorts of writing class material over the years, and I was going through it, trying to figure out how to condense what I want to teach into an hour and a half. I came across something I’d written several years ago about God. I wrote about God as an experience rather than a “being.” I experienced God in the night sky, I wrote. In the fall leaves. In the sea. And in singing.
Whoa.
I stared at that phrase I experience the divine when I sing. I remember writing it. I remember feeling the truth in the words. But it is no longer true for me and I wonder if it’s a feeling I’ll ever be able to recapture.
When I wrote those words, I was singing regularly with an interfaith community choir, Mosaic Harmony, in Northern Virginia. Although we came from many faith backgrounds–Christian, Jewish, humanist, atheist–and our director often had to adjust the lyrics to make us all comfortable with the songs, we all had a love of the primarily Gospel music we were singing. I’ve never had a great voice, but I can carry a tune, and that was the only requirement. (Actually there were no requirements but I’d say most of us could manage that much). I had no choral experience (if you ignore junior high. I would dearly love to ignore junior high), but I was quickly swept up by the passion of the singing. We used no sheet music. When you’re rockin’ and clappin’, there’s no way to hold music. We had lyric sheets, which we quickly committed to memory and tossed–and we taped our parts and practiced them at home and in our cars until we had them down. We regularly performed one or two hour concerts, but we had months to learn each song and although we were by and large amateurs, we were good. We even cut a couple of CDs. Singing with MoHa, I had moments of rapture. There’s no other word to describe the feeling. At times, I sang through tears of joy.
Fast forward. I love my new church here in North Carolina, and I quickly joined the choir. As with most church choirs, we use sheet music and we learn songs quickly for upcoming services. I never did learn to sight read music and to say that I’m struggling is an understatement. This is a small choir with an excellent young director. The singers are so good! (If any of my fellow choir members are reading this post, know that you have my admiration along with my envy.) They’re handed a piece of music and start ripping through it–sometimes in latin, no less–while I’m still trying to figure out the first alto note. Determined, I take the music home and practice the alto part on my keyboard. But it is an intellectual exercise for me, not a spiritual one, and I can’t help it–that saddens me. I don’t foresee the day when I will have mastered this process enough to ever again feel the “rapture.” I’ve thought of taking music and voice classes, because I do love singing, but given my writing schedule I don’t see how I can fit them in.
I like to look at uncomfortable situations as learning opportunities. I don’t mean “learning how to sing.” I mean “What can I learn about Diane-in-the-world through this discomfort?” So far, I’ve learned that there are some things I simply suck at. LOL. A humbling experience, to be sure. I’ve also learned that I need to find ways other than singing to be in touch with the divine. I’ve discovered how hard it can be to learn new tricks, and I realize that I haven’t challenged myself this way in a long, long time. I may also learn that it’s okay to give up. Ouch. I’m not a good giver-upper. That could be an important thing to learn.
Can you relate to this? Are you stretching yourselves in ways that make you uncomfortable? Is it crazy to do so? I’d love to know what you’re learning about yourselves these days.
Then there are other things that teach me humility.
Today, I sat in Starbucks running through my notes for a characterization workshop I’ll be teaching at the November 14th meeting of the Heart of Carolina Romance Writers. I have this giant folder into which I’ve thrown all sorts of writing class material over the years, and I was going through it, trying to figure out how to condense what I want to teach into an hour and a half. I came across something I’d written several years ago about God. I wrote about God as an experience rather than a “being.” I experienced God in the night sky, I wrote. In the fall leaves. In the sea. And in singing.
Whoa.
I stared at that phrase I experience the divine when I sing. I remember writing it. I remember feeling the truth in the words. But it is no longer true for me and I wonder if it’s a feeling I’ll ever be able to recapture.
When I wrote those words, I was singing regularly with an interfaith community choir, Mosaic Harmony, in Northern Virginia. Although we came from many faith backgrounds–Christian, Jewish, humanist, atheist–and our director often had to adjust the lyrics to make us all comfortable with the songs, we all had a love of the primarily Gospel music we were singing. I’ve never had a great voice, but I can carry a tune, and that was the only requirement. (Actually there were no requirements but I’d say most of us could manage that much). I had no choral experience (if you ignore junior high. I would dearly love to ignore junior high), but I was quickly swept up by the passion of the singing. We used no sheet music. When you’re rockin’ and clappin’, there’s no way to hold music. We had lyric sheets, which we quickly committed to memory and tossed–and we taped our parts and practiced them at home and in our cars until we had them down. We regularly performed one or two hour concerts, but we had months to learn each song and although we were by and large amateurs, we were good. We even cut a couple of CDs. Singing with MoHa, I had moments of rapture. There’s no other word to describe the feeling. At times, I sang through tears of joy.
Fast forward. I love my new church here in North Carolina, and I quickly joined the choir. As with most church choirs, we use sheet music and we learn songs quickly for upcoming services. I never did learn to sight read music and to say that I’m struggling is an understatement. This is a small choir with an excellent young director. The singers are so good! (If any of my fellow choir members are reading this post, know that you have my admiration along with my envy.) They’re handed a piece of music and start ripping through it–sometimes in latin, no less–while I’m still trying to figure out the first alto note. Determined, I take the music home and practice the alto part on my keyboard. But it is an intellectual exercise for me, not a spiritual one, and I can’t help it–that saddens me. I don’t foresee the day when I will have mastered this process enough to ever again feel the “rapture.” I’ve thought of taking music and voice classes, because I do love singing, but given my writing schedule I don’t see how I can fit them in.
I like to look at uncomfortable situations as learning opportunities. I don’t mean “learning how to sing.” I mean “What can I learn about Diane-in-the-world through this discomfort?” So far, I’ve learned that there are some things I simply suck at. LOL. A humbling experience, to be sure. I’ve also learned that I need to find ways other than singing to be in touch with the divine. I’ve discovered how hard it can be to learn new tricks, and I realize that I haven’t challenged myself this way in a long, long time. I may also learn that it’s okay to give up. Ouch. I’m not a good giver-upper. That could be an important thing to learn.
Can you relate to this? Are you stretching yourselves in ways that make you uncomfortable? Is it crazy to do so? I’d love to know what you’re learning about yourselves these days.
November 2, 2009
In a Fog
Ah, the title challenge once again.
My publisher plans to reissue Cypress Point in late 2010–a plan which makes me very happy! This is the old cover, and I can’t wait to see what they’ll come up with for the new one. In addition to changing the cover, they would like to change the title to one that’s more in keeping with my more recent books. It’s true that my recent and upcoming books have more evocative titles–The Secret Life of CeeCee Wilkes, Before the Storm, Secrets She Left Behind, The Lies We Told–the sort of titles that make you go “Hmm. . . wonder what that book is about?” So I agree with them. Now it’s time to put on my thinking cap, and I’m asking you to join me.
One concern I have over the change in title: I once bought a book by a favorite author, only to realize that I’d already read it under a different title. I’m going to discuss that problem with my publisher and make sure it’s clearly stated somewhere that the book is indeed a reissue.
For those of you not familiar with Cypress Point, it’s about an old woman named Carlynn who is reputed to be a healer. She lives on a cliff in Monterey, California, with its twisting roads and dense fog and beautiful cypress trees. Then we have a medical social worker, Joelle, whose best friend is seriously ill. In spite of the fact that Joelle is in love with her friend’s husband, she enlists the help of Carlynn to try to heal her. Half the book explores the dramatic story of Carlynn and her sister, Lisbeth. The other half is Joelle’s current day story as she makes decisions that will impact the rest of her life and the lives of those she loves.
So the main themes are: Who really needs healing in the story? What is the real meaning of healing? Lesser themes include the entwined relationship between sisters and the link between love and friendship.
As I think about titles, I’m definitely stuck in healing mode.
•The Healer’s Choice
•Her Sister’s Gift
•The Healer of Cypress Point
•Healing Lessons
•The Healer’s Promise
•The Last Healing
•The Reluctant Healer
Then I got off on the fog and the winding roads.
•A Path Through the Fog.
•Hidden by the Fog.
•A Turn in the Road
•A Twist in the Road
I don’t think I’ve found the magic words yet. Maybe we can brainstorm together?
My publisher plans to reissue Cypress Point in late 2010–a plan which makes me very happy! This is the old cover, and I can’t wait to see what they’ll come up with for the new one. In addition to changing the cover, they would like to change the title to one that’s more in keeping with my more recent books. It’s true that my recent and upcoming books have more evocative titles–The Secret Life of CeeCee Wilkes, Before the Storm, Secrets She Left Behind, The Lies We Told–the sort of titles that make you go “Hmm. . . wonder what that book is about?” So I agree with them. Now it’s time to put on my thinking cap, and I’m asking you to join me.
One concern I have over the change in title: I once bought a book by a favorite author, only to realize that I’d already read it under a different title. I’m going to discuss that problem with my publisher and make sure it’s clearly stated somewhere that the book is indeed a reissue.
For those of you not familiar with Cypress Point, it’s about an old woman named Carlynn who is reputed to be a healer. She lives on a cliff in Monterey, California, with its twisting roads and dense fog and beautiful cypress trees. Then we have a medical social worker, Joelle, whose best friend is seriously ill. In spite of the fact that Joelle is in love with her friend’s husband, she enlists the help of Carlynn to try to heal her. Half the book explores the dramatic story of Carlynn and her sister, Lisbeth. The other half is Joelle’s current day story as she makes decisions that will impact the rest of her life and the lives of those she loves.
So the main themes are: Who really needs healing in the story? What is the real meaning of healing? Lesser themes include the entwined relationship between sisters and the link between love and friendship.
As I think about titles, I’m definitely stuck in healing mode.
•The Healer’s Choice
•Her Sister’s Gift
•The Healer of Cypress Point
•Healing Lessons
•The Healer’s Promise
•The Last Healing
•The Reluctant Healer
Then I got off on the fog and the winding roads.
•A Path Through the Fog.
•Hidden by the Fog.
•A Turn in the Road
•A Twist in the Road
I don’t think I’ve found the magic words yet. Maybe we can brainstorm together?
October 28, 2009
Whose Story Is It?
Point of View.
Every author has to figure out which character (or characters) is telling the story, and if she’s telling it alone, and if she’s telling it in first person or third (or sometimes from an omniscient perspective), and if she’s telling it in past tense or present. So many decisions! As I begin my new work-in-progress, tentatively titled The Midwife’s Confession, I’m grappling with all these decisions. That started me thinking about point of view in my recent and upcoming books.
I always–at least so far–write in past tense, so that part’s easy. In Before the Storm and Secrets She Left Behind, I told the stories from four points of view, each in first person. What a challenge that was! I needed to be so careful to differentiate between the voices. Even in third person, that’s important, but in first person it’s critical. I loved it, though, because writing in first person made me feel so close to all my characters.
In Breaking the Silence, which will be reissued in less than a month (yeah! I love that book and I’m so happy it’s coming out again), I wrote from three points of view, all third person. Laura, the woman whose father makes a deathbed plea for her to take care of a stranger, has the largest role. Dylan, the father of Laura’s little girl, has a smaller but still important role. And some may argue that the elderly stranger, Sarah, has the most critical role of all. Her story takes place in the past and everything that happens in the present hinges on the events from her life.
In Summer’s Child, which will be reissued in April, I have four points of view, again all in third person. This story of a newborn baby discovered on a beach has more twists than a roller coaster! I just finished proofing the galleys for the reissue and noticed that I did something I rarely do anymore: I changed points of view in the middle of a chapter. I didn’t remember doing that. It definitely works, thank goodness. One thing I’d never do is risk switching POVs in the middle of a scene, although I know some writers who do so successfully. I don’t like jumping around that much, either as a writer or a reader. Even though the POV shift works in Summer’s Child, I’ll probably stick with different chapters for different characters for the rest of my career. I like the neatness of that approach.
In my upcoming June 2010 book, The Lies We Told, I tried something very different. I tell the story only from two points of view, a rarity for me, and one of the POVs is first person (Maya) while the other is third person (Rebecca). Why did I do that? Because the book is primarily Maya’s story and I wanted the reader to feel closer to her. I think the first person POV accomplishes that.
The Midwife’s Confession will have four points of view, and I just realized they’re all female. I’m debating whether any of them will be first person. I think I’ll try the central character’s first few chapters both ways to see which feels right to me.
If you’re a writer, how do you make the decisions about POV? And if you’re a reader, do you even notice? I frankly hope not! A good story should be so seamless that the mechanics of writing shouldn’t even register with a reader. . . unless that reader happens to be a writer as well. Then all bets are off!
Every author has to figure out which character (or characters) is telling the story, and if she’s telling it alone, and if she’s telling it in first person or third (or sometimes from an omniscient perspective), and if she’s telling it in past tense or present. So many decisions! As I begin my new work-in-progress, tentatively titled The Midwife’s Confession, I’m grappling with all these decisions. That started me thinking about point of view in my recent and upcoming books.
I always–at least so far–write in past tense, so that part’s easy. In Before the Storm and Secrets She Left Behind, I told the stories from four points of view, each in first person. What a challenge that was! I needed to be so careful to differentiate between the voices. Even in third person, that’s important, but in first person it’s critical. I loved it, though, because writing in first person made me feel so close to all my characters.
In Breaking the Silence, which will be reissued in less than a month (yeah! I love that book and I’m so happy it’s coming out again), I wrote from three points of view, all third person. Laura, the woman whose father makes a deathbed plea for her to take care of a stranger, has the largest role. Dylan, the father of Laura’s little girl, has a smaller but still important role. And some may argue that the elderly stranger, Sarah, has the most critical role of all. Her story takes place in the past and everything that happens in the present hinges on the events from her life.
In Summer’s Child, which will be reissued in April, I have four points of view, again all in third person. This story of a newborn baby discovered on a beach has more twists than a roller coaster! I just finished proofing the galleys for the reissue and noticed that I did something I rarely do anymore: I changed points of view in the middle of a chapter. I didn’t remember doing that. It definitely works, thank goodness. One thing I’d never do is risk switching POVs in the middle of a scene, although I know some writers who do so successfully. I don’t like jumping around that much, either as a writer or a reader. Even though the POV shift works in Summer’s Child, I’ll probably stick with different chapters for different characters for the rest of my career. I like the neatness of that approach.
In my upcoming June 2010 book, The Lies We Told, I tried something very different. I tell the story only from two points of view, a rarity for me, and one of the POVs is first person (Maya) while the other is third person (Rebecca). Why did I do that? Because the book is primarily Maya’s story and I wanted the reader to feel closer to her. I think the first person POV accomplishes that.
The Midwife’s Confession will have four points of view, and I just realized they’re all female. I’m debating whether any of them will be first person. I think I’ll try the central character’s first few chapters both ways to see which feels right to me.
If you’re a writer, how do you make the decisions about POV? And if you’re a reader, do you even notice? I frankly hope not! A good story should be so seamless that the mechanics of writing shouldn’t even register with a reader. . . unless that reader happens to be a writer as well. Then all bets are off!
