news waves

Everyday is bringing some type of news from family and friends, about babies, deaths, concerns and new possibilities.  I’ve advised on menus, plotted parties, and checked star charts, but my daily focus is on full time child care.  I’ve relaxed into the flow with my grandson, and just playing house, this next month or two.

Publishing world news is operating at mach speed through changes of venue, and shifts along the book distribution chains.  I’m reading through the journey via blogs, and enjoying the ride.  Controversy one day heralds new technology the next and the whole balance shifts around the globe.  How fun!

I usually miss the point of political jokes, so when a friend posted on FB about how she usually tosses her old “tea bags” I didn’t get she was referencing the latest rogue inspired Tea Party in Searchlight, NV.   I looked up the event and felt amused at how much energy is whipped up by those saying so little, in an effort to benefit very few.  At least this Tea Party was a bonus to the local economy hosting the event.

In my writing life, I am refilling my creative well with personal journaling, letting my current projects rest for the delight of precious time full of exercise and laughter.  The phone rings constantly but it’s usually Ed’s work or news about airplane activities in his, and his friends, lives.  Today there was also news a friend’s dad took a turn for the worse.

But there was one phone call specific for me, while my 18 mos old grandson was getting ready for bed in his own home, he said, “Grandma”.

And that piece of news eclipses everything else in my life. 

Rogues and Bad Boys

I’m anticipating full-time childcare days through April, part-time in May and being done in June.   One friend asked if I had lost a bet.  Another friend marvels that I have paused my life for granny time.  Some days I feel both are true!  Yet, a writer’s greatest truths come from living the challenges of life.

Another friend has pointed out that I jump into challenges others would avoid like the plague.   I’ll explore this aspect of my psyche with my sisters at the end of June.

Until then, I’m researching all kinds of new developments in this new publishing paradigm that no one really has a clue what will be…  5 out of the big 6 publishers has attempted to be proactive and make new policies.   If you’re looking to publish – check out the odd one. Wisdom requires patience and maybe Random House and all it’s affiliates will benefit from that patience.  It’s possible Mike Shatzkin posted his insights before the Ingram announcement of not doing business with the other 5, as of April 1st…  There’s big drama and conflict in the world of publishing and not just inside the covers of a book. 

Now – to the title of this post – it has nothing to do with any political game.  It’s specific to my NEW FAVE research book!  Bullies, Bastards & Bitches – how to write the bad guys of fiction by Jessica Page Morrell.  (I got my copy from Wonder Book. Awesome price, service & green packaging!)   That was a plug for the bookseller – authors need to understand it is the bookseller (and the librarian) that has the direct connection with the reader.

What I am learning, in Ms. Morrell’s book, is about the DARK personalities that create compelling characters and amazing stories that matter to readers.  I truly haven’t had time, in my current life, to study psychosis, neurosis, predators and sociopaths.   While a rogue character can still have a spark of redemption in their profile -they are still an anti-hero in dire need of transformation.  Hmm, OK, I am a bit amused that a recent political figure is proud of “going rogue”.

I am not done reading this well-written and engaging book by Ms. Morrell.  There’s tons of cools stuff in the pages about bad boys, villains and creators of mayhem.  I still have pages to go yet, including Chapter 9;  “Sympathy for the Devil” and Chapter 10; “Bitches: Dangerous Women”.   Hee Hee!

Along the same lines, one cool TED talk on The Myth of Violence by Steven Pinker is fascinating for it’s historical data in comparison to current horrors.  I watched this talk today and my friend Linda Mercury also posted about historical relevancy.

It’s really hard to accept that we’re living in awesome times where beauty abounds and the majority of humanity is well fed and watered under a solid roof.  Fortunately, Hans Rosling is happy to share this information, and he can swallow a sword.

Hidden talents, secrets and shadows.  That’s what fiction reveals.  I love it!

take a chance

Here’s a writer’s challenge where everyone wins.  Read an award-winning book, post a well written review, and you’re entered for a chance to win $$ – plus -  all proceeds from the purchase of Flaherty’s Crossing are being donated for cancer research.

This is a KEEPER book for me, as a writer, Flaherty’s Crossing is an example of good writing, strong storytelling, and is a well crafted novel.  It’s currently available only in electronic format.

I’ve read a few ebooks where flipping physical pages wasn’t part of the experience.  I’ve learned that when the story is awesome, I don’t care how I read it.  So, take a chance.  Try an ebook, this is one I recommend as an awesome story.  Everyone wins.

babies!

Mya Penelope, 8 lbs 15 oz, born 7pm, 3/22/2010.

Mya Penelope is a great-niece for me and before the end of the year my sister Rose will have 4 grand-babies!  Little Man is 2 yrs old, and his sibling is due in September, another cousin is due in October.  Alas, they are all in Ohio so I probably won’t get cuddling time with them. 

Our sisters trip this summer will have a different flavor, we are all grandmas!  How weird is that?  I still feel 36 some days.  Then I have to put the reading glasses on to check my email.

Our last sisters trip was in July 2007, when we met in Warm Springs, GA, and the focus of our thoughts during that trip was our early childhood, and that we were now orphans.  And only three years later – we’re all grandmas.

war is a drug

Last week I was busy with grandsons – 10 hour days!  But I’m glad to do it now their daddy is employed again, after some long lean years.  This week is spring break, and more of the same for me.  It’s a challenge to my creativity to have a 1-1/2 year-old and a 6-yr-old in the house.  These boys sure do like to eat!

Ed and I got away for the weekend at the lake, a wonderful meal with friends and some movie time.  At the lake we are very unplugged, lousy cell coverage, no internet or cable.

I was happy to watch THE HURT LOCKER because I knew it won lots of awards, was an anti-war war movie, and Bob Mayer was impressed with the realism portrayed.  What I didn’t expect was to be so drawn into the story.  I wondered what would come next and was surprised, often.  A little past the midpoint of the movie, I felt my attention to the story and characters start to shift from interested to involved.  I can’t describe when, or what scene, or why.  I just became more focused on everything -on the small TV screen- I was more attuned to the nuances and underlying threads.

I already knew the scene, in the cereal aisle, at the grocery store was a big deal.  Until I saw it, I didn’t realize how big.  I’m amazed at how a few seconds of screen time in a setting so mundane can pack such a punch.

Bill Johnson’s book A Story is a Promise is one of my reference books as a writer.  At the final scene in THE HURT LOCKER, Ed and I both sort of laughed, but I realized this movie truly delivered on the promise of the opening words – war is a drug.

For me, this single movie has clarified two issues that seem to be polar conflicts.  I totally honor those who choose military service while I will forever be anti-war.  Military Service is an individual choice that takes intense dedication and personal commitment to become the best at the tasks presented.  War blows that all to pieces.

I hope my grandsons choose sports, music, art, business, law or medicine, or fly airplanes, or take up welding, or learn to be chefs, or master heavy equipment needed for excavation.  If my grandsons choose military careers, I will honor them and their choice.  And I’ll pray it is the vehicle to be all they can be, without becoming an addiction they can’t shake.

an era ends

The last of my parents siblings died yesterday.  Our Aunt Eileen was 83.  My mom was the youngest of 4, my dad was the 2nd youngest of 6.  Of these ten pre-WWII siblings, families were created and I have about 40 cousins, of the Baby Boomer generation, most are still alive – and many have children already in their 30′s, with children.

Being one of the youngest of this mass of cousins, I am not sure how I feel knowing that all those people who were the foundation of me, my childhood, are gone.  Well, almost.  2 uncles and an aunt are still alive, but they weren’t my parents siblings, and I think the only time I saw these relatives in the past 15 years was at my parents funerals.

In Dec. 2007, the last of my dad’s siblings died weeks before I and many cousins gathered at a wedding.  We were the rebel generation, against all those values our parents held as true.  And we laughed at memories and wondered if we’d ever achieve the wisdom we’d only recently understood, that our parents shared.

Barely more than two years later, the only remaining sibling of my parents is gone.   And when the call came to me, not only did the distance of miles between Ohio and Oregon evaporate, so did the distance of time.  I was suddenly 8 again, running through my Aunt Eileen’s home dodging tables and all the ladies, in their dresses, serving food.  Chasing cousins through the men standing out in the yard with their beers and loud jokes.  I was suddenly 12, running around with my cousins in the new house in the country.  So much more land to explore!  Aunt Eileen standing on the porch, wearing slacks, calling us in because it was time to eat.

Still in my childhood time-warp, holding the silent cell phone, I turned around and looked at my grandsons in my kitchen.  Someday – they will be where I am – I hope their memories are as grand.

Love vs Romance

There is a huge difference between Love Stories and Romance Novels though they are both under the umbrella of fiction.  Kristina McMorris learned this difference when marketing her novel, “there was a market for “WWII love stories” but not “WWII romances.”  Letters from Home will be on bookshelves in early 2011.

Nickolas Sparks is adamant he writes love stories, he doesn’t write romance.  His specific differentiation is:  “No, the themes in love stories are different. In mine, you never know if it’s going to be a happy ending, sad ending, bittersweet or tragic. You read a romance because you know what to expect. You read a love story because you don’t know what to expect.”  (Does he protest too much at the end of the interview/article?)

I’m surprised that Mr. Sparks doesn’t know the difference between theme (redemption/revenge/forgiveness/etc) and plot (series of events to achieve The End).  What’s expected at the end of a romance novel is the main characters – involved in the relationship plot of the story – will be happy to be alive and in love.

I just read the award winning ebook:  Flaherty’s Crossing by Kaylin McFarren.  You can read my review here.  This is a book I want on my KEEPER shelf, in print too.  I will reread it more than once, even though I know the ending is uplifting, and even though I will shed a few tears.  All proceeds are to be donated to Cancer Research Center at Providence Medical Center so it’s a win for readers and cancer patients.  This is not a romance novel or a love story, it’s considered Contemporary Womens Fiction because it’s  focused on a woman’s emotional journey with her estranged (now dead) father.  There’s a romantic subplot with her almost estranged husband, and at the end, the romantic characters are happy to be alive and in love.  The ending of the tragic story thread was bittersweet but also uplifting.

What I find fascinating is – in the technologically developing world of ebook/ereaders – all three of these authors are considered “mainstream” on Fictionwise amid 6,381 items in that category.  This means a reader has no more luck finding an interesting ebook than walking through a physical bookstore where fiction is filed alphabetically, row after row, by author name.  A fiction reader has to come to both venues knowing either title or author, then search.  For now.

Soon these mainstream books will be sorted through a database with specific search labels because readers will want to know what they are buying.

Personally, I will probably never search through and choose books labeled as tragic/sad/bittersweet love stories.  Would you?

toot toot

That’s me tooting my own horn.

My friend Delilah Marvelle, agreed to read my memoir and she emailed me yesterday:

“Overall, all the stories of your crazy family (and I mean that in a good way! LOL!) link together for such a beautiful big message.  Loved it……  I wouldn’t change a thing in this story because it’s so unique in many ways.  I was so thrilled to read it “

How cool is that!

In the next few weeks we’ll discuss what my story is, what my message is, why it’s unique, and craft a killer query for agents and small press editors.  Delilah told me she could totally see her teen daughter reading my memoir.  Awesome!

TOOT TOOT!

here comes the sun

When the sun returns with the dawn, the dark night of the soul is done.  Most of us sleep through this huge and daily transition.  But – this is why we come to STORY.  We want to connect with characters that live through the night and are transformed to appreciate the dawn.

This concept could explain the latest vampire phenomenon. 

We’ve had glorious weather in Oregon the past few days.  At one point, I was inspired to run out in a field and throw my arms wide, while I slowly circled and sang, like Julie Andrews does in The Sound of Music.  My voice isn’t horrible so I can burst into song, with confidence, on a remote field in the wilds of Oregon.

I’ve also seen STORY happening around me.  Events are moving so fast right now.  It’s utterly delightful but a bit exhausting!  Huge stories, spanning years, spiraling into their happy endings.  And new beginnings.

I do want to sit and write it all down.  But it’s too awesome, I’ll enjoy it instead.

The weather is changing today.  The rains and clouds are returning.  Months to write and focus on STORY spread before me again.

But, I’ve gained a new insight from this amazing weather, days of warmth and sunlight, buds and early spring flowers adding color and vibrancy to my environment.  I discussed it with my brother who was in Pennsylvania this past weekend.  ( He lives in Ohio.)  He said, “Spring is still two weeks away, for you.  We may see it in two months or more.”

I can write about dark night of the soul, when the sun is shining.  STORY lives through sun and rain.

Every dawn is a new story.

the rhythm of writing

Last week I mentioned to an acquaintance that I write books.  Her comment was, “I wanted to do that too, and I wrote 16 pages, but then my boyfriend did something with my computer and I lost it all.”  This reminded me of all the comments I’ve heard from those that have the desire to write, but…

Less than two years ago, I was sitting in the kitchen of my husband’s family in Slovenia and for a good 15 minutes Ed tried to explain my “writing books” to them.   I even picked up a book and made the hand motions of writing, across this book.  Ed finally gave up and later told me he wasn’t sure they understand that books are written by people.    Which was sort of funny because there were lots of books in the house by authors I have read, and some I’ve met, translated into their language.

There’s a flurry of new books and blogs and advice on how to be a successful writer.  Then there’s information about the business of publishing.  But every library and bookstore, every newspaper and reality show, every agent, editor, and marketing professional around the globe shares one common denominator.  Their careers depend on the people that sit in the chair and put their fingers on the keyboard, and tell stories.  Whether fact or fiction, graphic or literary, the world of story is universal in all cultures.

I’ve only recently begun to see the universal grandeur of story.  It’s rather humbling!  But it’s also made me happy.  Because I am one of those that has written, all my life.  I’m also one of those who writes daily.  Now I am settling into the rhythm of writing.  The coming to my desk daily with a time frame and an objective to a story.

I’ve done this in the past, the “this is my writing time” decree to all within hearing.  It was, because it was my passion, but it was also when I could squeeze in time to stay true to my soul.  It’s different now.  There are numbers of pages to complete every day.   There are “do not disturb” hours.  I am creating the rhythm of connecting to my stories.

It’s scary and comforting at the same time.

amazed

My oldest daughter, Theresa, turned 29 on March1st.  She’s an awesome woman, currently surviving these tough times with a level of dignity I admire.  But her birthday celebration was eclipsed because our 3rd daughter, Katelyn, was showing off her new engagement ring.

Matt arrived in our home, unannounced, bearing the gift of a Strawberry Pizza desert pie, Ed’s favorite.  Matt wanted to talk to Ed, man-to-man, while I was out in the garage, retrieving the birthday card just bought for Theresa, on the passenger seat of my car.  I returned to the kitchen with birthday card in hand and heard the announcement from Ed…

We have a new son-in-law.  Wee Hee!

The wedding is pending, maybe June of next year though fall is their preferred time…

Later, when Matt was a little calm, he stated that Katelyn’s connection with her sisters is really strong, and he wanted to be accepted, and he really wants to be able to call Ed and I, his in-laws.

I am so humbled by this!  Matt is an amazing man, and he was nervous about requesting admission into our family, with his desire to make our daughter, happy.

All I can say is – welcome Matt!  I’m honored to call you – my son.

sister time

I am blessed with two sisters who I not only love, but also like – a lot.  For most of our adult lives we’ve been separated by hundreds and thousands of miles, as we raised our families and pursued our careers.  As a child, I assumed my future would include my sisters and their families as an integral part of my life.   That was the example I had as a child, with my aunts always around, combining shopping lists, mending clothes, celebrating special dances, hosting boisterous family parties.

It takes a village to raise a child and my village was all related. These were Irish farmers, firmly transplanted to American soil for about a hundred years.  Each generation produced dozens of offspring every two decades.  Which put me into into the fifth or sixth generation, in the 1960′s, on my dad’s side of this very Irish Catholic family.  Imagine Happy Days, merging with My Big Fat Greek Wedding,  with a cast of character from Gangs of New York.  Loud, boisterous, affectionate, dramatic!

That’s what I wanted for my children, a diverse group of talented and opinionated people, so there was a unique resource for all four of my girls.  But it didn’t work out that way.  At the age of 23, with two tiny daughters, I moved to New Jersey.  My sister Sharon already lived in California with her two children, and our oldest sister Rose remained in Ohio with her family. The only sister time was when we all met at our parents home in Cleveland, Ohio. This was (is!) not a preferred vacation spot of choice for many.

15 years later, Sharon and I both lived in Oregon and were blending our families together.  Rose completed her Masters in Education and to celebrate, we organized our first “Sister’s Trip”.  The 3 of us girls took a weekend escape to Astoria, OR.  The fun!  The memories.

I think it was 8 years before we did it again.  In 2007, we met in Atlanta, Georgia for our nostalgic trip into our past, and the connection we have with The Roosevelt Foundation in Warm Springs.  Here we are, beneath a picture of our mom from 1960.

The time gap is only 3 years now.  We’re planning a weekend in Manzanita, Oregon this June.  I can’t wait!