tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9710269251349567432024-03-05T00:11:11.998-08:00Valerie J Brooks - Gobsmacked: Confessions of a Working WriterOne author's life in the writing trenches with news about her new NOIR SERIES, the pains and joys of writing memoir, her lust for travel, and an imagination that won't shut down.Valerie Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03974801169865595635noreply@blogger.comBlogger59125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971026925134956743.post-60659668692992855592019-12-11T13:50:00.000-08:002019-12-11T15:34:47.396-08:00The Rise and Rebellion of Women Noir Writers<style type="text/css">
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Women writers of crime, mystery, and noir have been kicking their male counterparts in the keister lately. Evidence of this is Akashic Books’ outstanding new anthology <i>Cutting Edge: New Stories of Mystery and Crime by Women Writers. </i>In the world of noir, Akashic wears the publishing crown of noir, from novels to over 100 noir anthologies set in cities around the world.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">In this new anthology, authors Aimee Bender, Steph Cha, S.J. Rosen, Edwidge Danticat, and twelve others prove that women have the cutting edge over their male counterparts. Joyce Carol Oates who Akashic calls “a queen of the noir genre” puts her keen, dark eye to stories that skewer the gendered status quo of “femme-fatale.” No longer do women lure hapless men to their demise. Instead, these writers of femmes-noir, a subcategory of contemporary neo-noir, have a little fun at the expense of a crumbling patriarchal society.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">The modern female noir and crime story covers a lot of ground. These stories with their strong sense of place and atmosphere kept me up late into the night and gave me thrills and chills.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-size: large;">“In noir, women’s place until fairly recently has been limited to two: muse, sexual object. The particular strength of the female noir vision isn’t a recognizable style but rather a defiantly female, indeed feminist, perspective.” —Joyce Carol Oates, introduction, <i>Cutting Edge</i></span></blockquote>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Take for example my favorite story in the anthology, Aimee Bender’s “Firetown.” An erotic contemporary story is set in a Los Angles that is “crackling” after eleven months of wildfires. This story has the appeal of classic noir with its repartee and humor, its PI and beautiful client.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">But the PI is female, owns an apricot-colored chair, and drinks whiskey, rocks, “to maintain image”; the beautiful client vapes and owns a cat; and other characters develop Etsy sites and drink pale ale. Never far away, however, are the fires, a physical and existential threat.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Another favorite is Bernice L. McFadden’s “OBF, Inc,” a terrifying contemporary tale set in office spaces that could be in any city. This is alternative current history where Black Lives Matter is a terrorist group and blacks are only allowed typewriters and analog phones. By the end of the story, you’ll learn what OBF stands for and why racism still burns hot in our current culture.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Whatever your taste in dark tales, you’ll find delicious ones in <i>Cutting Edge</i>. Steph Cha’s “Thief” is more crime than noir and Elizabeth McCracken’s “An Early Specimen” is more horror than crime. Justice, a favorite theme of mine, finds its way into Shelia Kohler’s “Miss Martin,” another story that raises the current curtain on dark days.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Round out this anthology with a Joyce Carol Oates story and Margaret Atwood poetry, and you have a gift to reread and read out loud. The cynical voices, themes, exemplary language, even the settings defy categories and would be comfortable in either literary or genre. To be scared, stimulated, transfixed, and entertained should be the motive of any writing. <i>Cutting Edge</i> is perfect reading for those with a taste for the nocturnal.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-size: large;">Authors included in the anthology:</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-size: large;">Livia Llewellyn</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-size: large;">S.J. Rozan</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-size: large;">Lisa Lim</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-size: large;">Lucy Taylor</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-size: large;">Edwidge Danticat</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-size: large;">Jennifer Morales</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-size: large;">Elizabeth McCracken</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-size: large;">Bernice L. McFadden</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-size: large;">Aimee Bender</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-size: large;">Steph Cha</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-size: large;">S.A. Solomon</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-size: large;">Cassandra Khaw</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-size: large;">Valerie Martin</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-size: large;">Sheila Kohler</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-size: large;">Margaret Atwood</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-size: large;">Joyce Carol Oates</span></div>
<br />Valerie Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03974801169865595635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971026925134956743.post-14057504964583700532019-09-30T12:28:00.001-07:002019-09-30T12:28:51.151-07:00Val's Review of Attica Locke's HEAVEN, MY HOME
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<span class="s1">Attica Locke creates stories rich in setting and character and entwined with history. (<i>Bluebird, Bluebird</i>) The plot of her latest, <i>HEAVEN, MY HOME</i>, is not only intense but complex and multilayered. Levi, the nine-year-old son of an Aryan Brotherhood leader, goes missing. Texas Ranger Darren Matthews is assigned to find him. As crime novels go, that would be ordinary, except Matthews is black and must follow the law even when faced with legal and moral issues. One of the settings he’s called to, Hopetown, was created after the civil war for freed slaves. Now white supremacists live there too, making a living off people who are nostalgic for anti-bellum Texas.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Matthews comes into the assignment with personal problems, including a mother who doesn’t have his best interests at heart, a vulnerable marriage, and a past investigation that haunts him. As a character, he’s so fully fleshed out that I feel as if I know him, making his story the kind I yearn for as a reader.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">I won’t go into any more plot details as other reviews have covered those. I do enjoy how Locke interweaves Texas history in the novel, plus pulls us into a world in 2016 that is more conflicted than it was a few decades ago. Like a Pandora’s Box of Bigots, the racists have become emboldened and don’t fear the law. Levi the nine-year-old is a bad actor, but questions arise for Matthews as well as the reader as Matthews must put aside his feelings and search for the boy. Should Levi be held to same standards as his racists’ relations? Is his hate conditioning or something more rooted in his genetic make-up?</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Locke leans heavily on the idea of forgiveness. Should we always try to forgive, or are there times we cannot afford to forgive?</span></div>
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<span class="s1">I’m always drawn to crime and thrillers that ask big, bold, and uneasy questions like these. Early in the novel, Matthews says:</span></div>
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<span class="s1">“Maybe the rules had to be different. Maybe justice was no more a fixed concept than love was, and the poets and bluesmen knew the rules better than we did.”</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Maybe so. Think about that for a minute before you dive into the novel because once you do, you’ll be too swept up in not only what happens, but what choices the characters must make. Walk in their boots. Experience a time of both past and present, times that make moral and legal choices so difficult.</span></div>
<br />Valerie Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03974801169865595635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971026925134956743.post-34796214469525294982018-01-01T20:29:00.001-08:002018-01-01T20:29:29.661-08:00The Woman in the Window--Does It Live Up to the Hype?<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">“Tour de force.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When a pre-publication novel boasts these blurbs from Gillian Flynn, Ruth Ware, Louise Penny, and Stephen King, and is pronounced <span style="color: #990000;">“The Most Widely Acquired Debut Novel of all Time,”</span> my alarms go off. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I don’t know about you, but I’m a skeptic where the publishing world is concerned. Their taste buds tend to salivate over sales—no matter how well written or crafted the novel. Plus their authors often write testimonials for their publishers’ novels because, well, it’s done that way. I’ll scratch your back, etc. etc.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9nN4G9kREWhnWjTOhHsNCZHm5buTC6DBI7oOt3jon-H8GXt4LMi-Lvpuge4nZGVZv4Z61JxoG9IATvHs_wMiAFUzAFzSofDsARLV6GqfwEEsGp3TlUFv3xXypC7L4xet0dUuEZz6hWRg/s1600/Woman+in+Window_FINAL.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1068" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9nN4G9kREWhnWjTOhHsNCZHm5buTC6DBI7oOt3jon-H8GXt4LMi-Lvpuge4nZGVZv4Z61JxoG9IATvHs_wMiAFUzAFzSofDsARLV6GqfwEEsGp3TlUFv3xXypC7L4xet0dUuEZz6hWRg/s320/Woman+in+Window_FINAL.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So call me a cynic when, in October, I stumbled across an online mention of <i>The Woman in the Window</i>, the 432-page novel referred to at the start of this review, published by William Morrow. Ruth Ware called it <span style="color: #990000;">“A dark, twisty confection with an irresistible film noir premise.”</span> Lately, some novels are described as noir, when in fact they are not. So is it noir? Is it worth the hype and read? And exactly who is this wunderkind author A. J. Finn?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Turns out he’s industry insider Daniel Mallory, a senior publishing executive at William Morrow/Harper Collins. In the novel’s promo packet I found this about him:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">(Daniel Mallory is) a top young book editor who studied mystery and suspense fiction at Oxford University, who now publishes the work of Agatha Christie, and whose own writing is crafted in homage to the classics from Hitchcock and Highsmith.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now I was even more intrigued, and the pressure increases for this novel to perform.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Yes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Is it noir?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Yes … and no, depending on how you define noir.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3XyFljyBkxntHwfYFZks7SLesRjar_gaoo6wmsB46ho4x3zKClUlMRsMbZDbp8ZZIBPxNhHskTcWRxHVdP6c7Ck7vlFKxY8e0MO4BSgwOfoyrJJmEBpBNuAmfeZKax70ha6AB_eaZ1AY/s1600/Rear+Window.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="273" data-original-width="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3XyFljyBkxntHwfYFZks7SLesRjar_gaoo6wmsB46ho4x3zKClUlMRsMbZDbp8ZZIBPxNhHskTcWRxHVdP6c7Ck7vlFKxY8e0MO4BSgwOfoyrJJmEBpBNuAmfeZKax70ha6AB_eaZ1AY/s1600/Rear+Window.jpg" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">As a psychological thriller, it’s gripping. The narrator, Anna Fox, an agoraphobic and once a respected child psychologist, drinks too much merlot and pops pills indiscriminately. She spies on her neighbors and becomes increasingly interested in the new ones across the street. When she witnesses a brutal crime, no one believes her. No evidence is found that a crime has been committed, a noir hook that comes directly from <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Rear Window </i>with James Stewart. We wonder about Anna’s sanity. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><a href="http://smarturl.it/WomaninWindowHB"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="596" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY840uFXMtMWVqwAj9omqfN1OhP8AqRwdYOcO2cN-c3ttm0QOCp8phGHUOPn0wHiPnRxL6JsB7tYMjDibAnJWCm74bEC05JxE6c9N4T5vY9EDT5uGzrhnjhrVbUlNdOBAdI69yjS6opnI/s320/British+cover.jpg" width="198" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://smarturl.it/WomaninWindowHB">The British cover</a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The novel is alive with Hitchcockian characters: the sympathetic Detective Little, his sidekick who doesn’t like Anna, the new neighbor who Anna suspects of killing his wife, the neighbor’s son who makes friends with Anna, Anna’s tenant who suspiciously has little history, and an online friend Anna confides in. The characters switch from suspects to victims and back to suspects repeatedly, creating the plot twists. A definite noir trope.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Finn chose wisely with confining the point of view to Anna. He also restricted the setting to Anna’s New York brownstone, therefore enhancing the sense of entrapment, isolation, and paranoia, all elements of noir.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The ending, of course, brings the truth about the crime to a close. Usually, however, noir does not end on an uplifting note, or it leaves us with a slight sense of dread that not all is right with the world. Finn decides on a different ending. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As much as I love film noir, I found the mention of so many films</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAGz1-b2jJypYBX4CX6SGOyPWSCiuLMKA8JYMhThrNmWjsKWUc1uRPTgLg6QiyNG51JJvf-rEZMC-KzZthpZl5G1zVhGBWmjY1j9fBMo6-UyJgrO-Wg6TQev33JlBzR2tzG-jteaBrt5M/s1600/Vertigo.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="197" data-original-width="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAGz1-b2jJypYBX4CX6SGOyPWSCiuLMKA8JYMhThrNmWjsKWUc1uRPTgLg6QiyNG51JJvf-rEZMC-KzZthpZl5G1zVhGBWmjY1j9fBMo6-UyJgrO-Wg6TQev33JlBzR2tzG-jteaBrt5M/s1600/Vertigo.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="text-align: left;">throughout the novel distracting even though we're led to believe Anna’s constant viewing of these movies could cause her paranoia. </span><i style="text-align: left;">Night in the City, Vertigo, Third Man, Dead Calm, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, The Man Who Knew Too Much, Rope, Strangers on a Train, North by Northwest, The Lady Vanishes, </i><i style="text-align: left;">Gaslight, Dark Passage</i><span style="text-align: left;">—all</span><span style="text-align: left;"> mentioned in the first 144 pages.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I applaud Finn’s nod to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Gaslight</i> with its use of madness, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Vertigo</i> for mistaken identity, and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Shadow of a Doubt</i> for its sense of urgency. After the novel took off, I quit counting the mentioned films as I became more interested in Anna’s fate and the person responsible for the crime.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Sounds invade the car: The giddy shriek, the seafloor rumble of traffic, a bicycle bell trilling. A rage of colors, a riot of sounds. I feel as though I'm in a coral reef. </i></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Her drainpipe legs are folded beneath the seat, and Punch (her cat) churns around her ankles like smoke. In the grate, a low tide of fire.</i></span></blockquote>
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As for the story overall, <i>The </i><i>Woman in the Window</i> is more quietly complex and suspenseful than <i>Gone Girl</i> (enjoyed, with reservations). It far exceeds <i>The Girl on the Train</i> which I didn't like at all. Finn takes care with the clues he sprinkles throughout (even the red herrings), the setting, and the way he tries to summon up the moody atmosphere of black-and-white films. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>The Woman in the Window </i>goes on sale Jan. 2, 2018 in a massive launch and has already been sold to Fox 2000 Studios with </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I hope A. J. Finn continues to write in the noir and thriller genre. I’m a fan.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Loving the dark,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A. J. Finn's Facebook Page </span></div>
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Valerie Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03974801169865595635noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971026925134956743.post-69042040394026182862017-09-27T22:48:00.000-07:002017-09-27T22:48:12.289-07:00“PORTLAND PREY” MY SEXY, SECOND NOIR STORY—& A PRIZE!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">BIG ANNOUNCEMENT, TOO!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I will soon be interviewed on the “Kendall and Cooper Talk Mysteries” podcast! Wendy Kendall and Julie Cooper loved “Revenge in Paris” so much, they contacted me for the interview.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZw8knBEqmM9Lf5M4deO9Rs8O-YKWHzR2pDuX06324KHRlvYEMDrrZL9E3FJtz0UBAPicrCUQPnapnDVVMdGXDBTvY0m7yNkd72rLS-7RT7qLBaDVgMKGDX4dhHlnTuKOTkJN_creGyOI/s1600/Kendall+and+Cooper.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1400" data-original-width="1400" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZw8knBEqmM9Lf5M4deO9Rs8O-YKWHzR2pDuX06324KHRlvYEMDrrZL9E3FJtz0UBAPicrCUQPnapnDVVMdGXDBTvY0m7yNkd72rLS-7RT7qLBaDVgMKGDX4dhHlnTuKOTkJN_creGyOI/s200/Kendall+and+Cooper.png" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">If you haven’t read “Revenge in Paris” (it’s free!), sign up at my <a href="http://www.valeriejbrooks.com/">WEBSITE</a>. You’ll be directed to download the story in your favorite format.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">You <i>will </i>want to read Ang’s story as it is the first in a trilogy of stories. The three stories will stand on their own, but isn’t it more fun to get something free and prepare yourself for the thrill and mystery of the next noir in NOIR TRAVEL STORIES SERIES?</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxiQySO5P7pjJIIHDRNBqSbKXXhQCq3Zrx5MCsqgf0w4sjZR24EzZOAmlLn6p549Whixh8p0J5cNysApxVqdqbFbDALeuMkXa3xRCUwLJr_fyoR1B6iIQZydTzQ_sJpBGAChab5Y7pwTw/s1600/Thank+you+for+being+part+of+journey.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxiQySO5P7pjJIIHDRNBqSbKXXhQCq3Zrx5MCsqgf0w4sjZR24EzZOAmlLn6p549Whixh8p0J5cNysApxVqdqbFbDALeuMkXa3xRCUwLJr_fyoR1B6iIQZydTzQ_sJpBGAChab5Y7pwTw/s1600/Thank+you+for+being+part+of+journey.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I had planned to publish "Portland Prey" in June, but a major life event happened.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">My mom died. Many of you know she'd been very ill and I was gone during June to help my brother and sister-in-law who live in Naples, Florida where mom was in assisted living.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I have a lot to process about losing her, but that is for a different post. I'm just grateful she didn't have to go through hurricane Irma. I don't know what we would have done then. I'm also so grateful for my sibs who cared for her during a difficult period. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">After mom died at the end of July, the sibs and I were busy with all that death demands. I spent a lot of time working on her obituary and trying to capture who she was. That was about the only writing I did for a month.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'd finished writing "Portland Prey" in June, but I had no focus nor energy to copy edit, check facts, format, and find authors to write blurbs or testimonials for the story. I researched the next noir. I went out to lunch with my pals. I did my paying job. I watched <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ray Donavan</i>.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC0pJjZlaILmxp5vTXQ1lqNhpIcyPiMf7AdvCPuUMyVffBMW-Wqre6W1cTAB1pdADQAxYbtnxZi6bJbriyQxwu9-T9rYoKArxLPwD_hp8lEQoD3Uj1IMjhKj-Wg6i6h9mbFI96mGGwbYs/s1600/Ray+Donovan.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="960" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC0pJjZlaILmxp5vTXQ1lqNhpIcyPiMf7AdvCPuUMyVffBMW-Wqre6W1cTAB1pdADQAxYbtnxZi6bJbriyQxwu9-T9rYoKArxLPwD_hp8lEQoD3Uj1IMjhKj-Wg6i6h9mbFI96mGGwbYs/s200/Ray+Donovan.jpg" width="133" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now I’m coming out of the fog of Mom’s loss. Thankfully the weather has cooled, my favorite season is upon us, and “Portland Prey” survived, unlike some of its characters.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When I read it over this past month, I loved it even more than when I wrote it. That rarely happens. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I finally gathered the courage to ask two people for blurbs and I was honored to receive this one from Tim Applegate, author of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Fever Tree:</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">‘Portland Prey’ is a swift, seductive, menacing tale of extortion and murder that assuredly carries forward <i>Revenge in Paris,</i> Valerie Brooks' scintillating debut installment in her Noir Travel Story Series<i>. </i>Like the great James M. Cain, Brooks strips her story down to the bare essentials, effortlessly blending classic noir (an urban setting, unexpected narrative detours, a suspicious money trail) with uniquely modern components, including a professional computer hacker, Snapchat, and the Ashley Madison dating site. With its breakneck pace, intriguing cast of characters, and unabashed eroticism, ‘Portland Prey’ is a wild, wicked, and utterly delightful ride.</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When the cover design is finished, I'll publish “Portland Prey” in ebook form and let you know when it's available. Until then, here are a few of the Portland settings in the story. Portland is rich with choices, but I decided to stay in the downtown area for the urban, atmospheric setting. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwg07_QREOge3WeUiqFPcVF3ndiYUFyxl24hQwLuy-W4hxPV8nnDfQ_6PMkqQYhbK1DYoBNo_q-R6BhLHszkVKxhI5Nec0i5B22ylYcYm43sCihWDB81SypAwNWjsIC6iGqv_zV0UWaps/s1600/Crystal+Hotel.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="719" data-original-width="962" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwg07_QREOge3WeUiqFPcVF3ndiYUFyxl24hQwLuy-W4hxPV8nnDfQ_6PMkqQYhbK1DYoBNo_q-R6BhLHszkVKxhI5Nec0i5B22ylYcYm43sCihWDB81SypAwNWjsIC6iGqv_zV0UWaps/s320/Crystal+Hotel.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crystal Hotel</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaxQsa2pythFves1ytZ488Jqq6WYDT-9iDW6AYhKgZiQhvlGJMYO7cH02oz4dXnx1gusL134_nQ5WZTcfKNHLxcBNZoe8GEXTm8UwqBhwxJaftxkMSAZZXlfp0sShJYYpYWOoH2sei0jc/s1600/Hotel+deLuxe.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaxQsa2pythFves1ytZ488Jqq6WYDT-9iDW6AYhKgZiQhvlGJMYO7cH02oz4dXnx1gusL134_nQ5WZTcfKNHLxcBNZoe8GEXTm8UwqBhwxJaftxkMSAZZXlfp0sShJYYpYWOoH2sei0jc/s320/Hotel+deLuxe.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hotel deLuxe (photo: Kirsten Steen)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Sc2XhzQFmpwvv7ENwgXLTONjPds8V16VvgL12Jxg73nw2ZsHzpHpgSnGhyUtRVYJtatzkA0iO5SSYDlFt5Ky59kqGfQEdVu1m825p3nE7ENCTgPEkNpkH4IJcdvZs_vmssrhr7SCUJw/s1600/Hotel+Vintage.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="610" data-original-width="818" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Sc2XhzQFmpwvv7ENwgXLTONjPds8V16VvgL12Jxg73nw2ZsHzpHpgSnGhyUtRVYJtatzkA0iO5SSYDlFt5Ky59kqGfQEdVu1m825p3nE7ENCTgPEkNpkH4IJcdvZs_vmssrhr7SCUJw/s320/Hotel+Vintage.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hotel Vintage</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A QUIZ AND A PRIZE</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The famous round bed in this photo, one of the settings in “Portland Prey,” is in what hotel?</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHiX9vwXLglXTDUeA46C0Wh7jKisEjc1UOXzJ4fmito9YyQ1E6LgaWQai8PktQn4EXMqrtAUUhU_K6fECph7AEXGlHeNEMhJBCRBSDDDCgVDopXcSk21ZJ8ZeSfzoUXftUfn-y025sAtU/s1600/Round+bed.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1595" data-original-width="1600" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHiX9vwXLglXTDUeA46C0Wh7jKisEjc1UOXzJ4fmito9YyQ1E6LgaWQai8PktQn4EXMqrtAUUhU_K6fECph7AEXGlHeNEMhJBCRBSDDDCgVDopXcSk21ZJ8ZeSfzoUXftUfn-y025sAtU/s320/Round+bed.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">If you know the answer, <a href="mailto:valerie@valeriejbrooks.com">EMAIL ME</a></span><span style="font-size: large;">. </span><i style="font-size: x-large;">Please! </i><i style="font-size: x-large;">Do not put your answer in the comment section below.</i><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><i style="font-size: x-large;">That could give everyone who reads this blog the answer.</i><span style="font-size: large;"> Those who have the right answer will have their name put in a hat (yes, I actually use a hat) and a winner will be drawn for a special prize.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">By the way, remember that cute little puppy we brought home last year? Well, Stevie wants to say hi to you!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLp6O3VmRcgx32fFaeIXHVlUhgFcRlXR8XAZL9s1s3t_FpR6UK8fmjtckAKU3Tgh5biBy9ajB7yumyzGtA4JzbWn9mvoEQQGPwrN7AwnK9aJBuB0gf9VEhtr56A2DALaAnyLB1WKO6DeM/s1600/IMG_6393.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1494" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLp6O3VmRcgx32fFaeIXHVlUhgFcRlXR8XAZL9s1s3t_FpR6UK8fmjtckAKU3Tgh5biBy9ajB7yumyzGtA4JzbWn9mvoEQQGPwrN7AwnK9aJBuB0gf9VEhtr56A2DALaAnyLB1WKO6DeM/s320/IMG_6393.jpg" width="297" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I love when you comment. I'd also like your ideas. If you have something you'd like me to write about, please let me know. Also, if you just want some love, comment and I'll write back. You keep me going.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I’m thrilled to be in your world! Thanks so much for being in mine.</span></div>
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Valerie Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03974801169865595635noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971026925134956743.post-7853004768292677482017-02-06T14:28:00.000-08:002017-02-06T14:28:16.398-08:007 Reasons to Sign Up for My Newsletter, Freebies and the Latest News!<div class="p1">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><b><span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-large;">Sisters. Revenge. Murder.</span></b></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Hi Gobsmacked Loyalists!</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I launched my NOIR TRAVEL STORY SERIES with “Revenge in Paris,” </span></span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">and the reviews are streaming in! Here's one that gave me the </span><i style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: x-large;">good</i><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> kind of goosebumps.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Do you have post-holiday hangover? Maybe you need to hunker down. If so, just make sure you read “Revenge in Paris”, the first installment in the travel noir series by Valerie J. Brooks. This story isn’t a marathon–it’s a fast-paced, sweaty-palms, heart-racing holiday sprint around the festive City of Light, told through the eyes of a wannabe killer. The plot winds through Parisian streets and cafes and museums, and into the crooks and crannies of the cold, calculating, passionate, and unmedicated mind of “Helen Craig”. You’ll wince at the glitter and feel the crush of holiday crowds. You’ll want to get up and pour yourself a Scotch. But don’t bother to guess the finale. Brooks will ambush you with it.</span></span> </blockquote>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">—Tom Titus, author of <i>Blackberries in July: A Forager's Field Guide to Inner Peace</i></span></span></blockquote>
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<span class="s1"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;">ANOTHER GIVEAWAY!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Yes, I'm doing it again. This time I'm giving away an Amazon Kindle Paperwhite (or an e-reader of your choice)! Get in on this. Drawing takes place around the Ides of March. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">To enter, sign up at <a href="http://www.valeriejbrooks.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #741b47;"><b>MY WEBSITE</b></span></a></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Don't you just love freebies? Well, here's one that will make <i>you</i> feel good. Send this postcard to friends and family! They get the free story "Revenge in Paris" and are entered in the drawing for an e-reader! </span></span><br />
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span><span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Spread the love. Just drag and drop the postcard below into an email and add your own personal message. Don't forget <span style="color: red;">Valentine's Day</span>! What better way to say <i>I love you</i> than to send them a story of revenge and murder?</span></span></div>
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<li><span style="font-size: large;">If you missed downloading the free first story "Revenge in Paris"</span></li>
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<li><span style="font-size: large;">Learn what weird things I'm forced to do as an author.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Find out what makes me tingle with excitement in all things noir.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Read about my favorite noir podcasts, tv shows and movies. </span></li>
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Thanks for following! If you have a favorite social media, you can follow me there for everything noir. </span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I love the dark. How about you?</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Ciao!</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Valerie</span></span><br />
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">p.s. "Revenge in Paris" will soon be available at your favorite bookseller site. Stay tuned! </span></span></div>
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Valerie Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03974801169865595635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971026925134956743.post-32265513590693196642016-11-01T18:17:00.000-07:002016-11-01T18:17:20.795-07:00WHY I TURNED TO CRIME—WRITING NOIR<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Playa, Summer Lake, Oregon</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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Amidst an anxiety-inducing election cycle, the loss of some
of our great musicians, an unstable world, and whatever is going on in your personal
life (I know many of you have had a tough year), I hold onto the belief that
art carries us, gives us means of expression (meaningful expression, the
opposite of trolling), and fills us with hope. </div>
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Art in all its forms I believe is evidence that humans are
worthy of existence. The only other evidence is our social contract to help
others in times of need.</div>
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Right now, after a tough personal beginning to the year, I
have the good fortune to be at Playa, a month-long residency in southern Oregon
to work on <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Vida Flats </i>my memoir that
takes place during the early 70s on the McKenzie River. The memoir has been a
work in progress over the years with journaling, scene writing, examining,
researching—everything that memoir demands.</div>
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Writing memoir leaves me psychologically naked, heart cut
open, old wounds surfacing, and ultimately in the end is a method of holding
myself accountable for what happened to me.</div>
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For the first two weeks at Playa, I spread printouts on my
bed of everything I’d written so far and went at them with scissors and tape,
eliminating replications, combining scenes with notes, moving notes around,
highlighting the most emotional scenes, axing bad writing and tirades—well you
get the idea. I cried. New memories surfaced. I tried to have as much compassion
for my twenty-four-year old self as I have now for others at that age. Memoir is
not about blaming others, even if they’ve done you harm. Memoir is about
writing truth, my messy truth, about my choices when I experienced harm or love,
ignorance or awareness, failure or success. Memoir is mainly about recognizing
that big conscious moment when I knew life had to change, or else. It’s about what
I did, or tried to do to make that change. It didn’t happen on the first attempt,
or even the second, but it did happen.
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So what does this have to do with turning to crime?</div>
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This year I had one of those moments when I knew my writing
life had to change. I’d written three novels, represented by three incredibly
hard working agents, but none sold. This last one is still alive, but I was
tired, burned out. I could indie publish all three, but I was too tired and
burned out to do that. I knew I needed to change a few things in the third
novel, but I just couldn’t go back to it, not yet. Plus I had this memoir. I
wasn’t having fun anymore, not that writing a novel or memoir is fun, but I’d
lost the passion I’d had for years and seriously considered giving up writing.</div>
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Then somewhere along the line, I had an idea. Why not write
something fun and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">short</i>. When I thought
that, my shoulders relaxed. The pit in my stomach dissolved. I no longer had
heartburn. Writing something fun sounded … fun.</div>
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But what would be fun to write? Lately, amidst reading
memoirs and literary novels, I’d been reading Scandinavian crime novels,
recently ones written by women. My husband liked to tease me because I was
hooked on what he called “murder and sex” series like “The Tunnel,” “Rebus,” “The
Night Manager,” “The Americans,” and “Shades of Blue.” I said, “No, not the
murder and sex. I like the politics and the flawed characters.” As a writer, I
think of myself as a behavioral diagnostician. What makes people do what they
do? What are their motives? What personal demons or desires drive them? How do
their actions affect world events, culture, politics, the economy?</div>
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When I was a kid, I read Nancy Drew stories and a mystery
series my English relatives sent at Christmas.? </div>
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During my teens, I read in bed under the blanket with a
penlight until one or two in the morning, stories by de Maupassant, Somerset
Maugham and O. Henry. Twisty, dark, atmospheric stories I sucked down like
cherry sodas.</div>
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Mysteries. They <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">would </i>be
fun to write, but they weren’t <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">serious</i>
works.</div>
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Then I remembered Rick Moody.</div>
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Rick and I met at Vermont Studio while I was there on a
month-long writers residency. He’s the author of one of my favorite novels <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Ice Storm, </i>also made into a movie. </div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Ice Storm</i> hit
something deep in me. Rick and I were New Englanders from ultra-conservative
families, instilled with a Puritan work ethic, and discouraged from following
our creative dreams. I’d wanted to be an artist. He’d wanted to be a musician. We
compared stories about our upbringing. He attended a prep school in New
Hampshire near my hometown, but not the prep school <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">in </i>my hometown. The prep school in my hometown of Tilton, New
Hampshire where I went to high school sat high on a hill overlooking the mill
town and main street.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The “preppies”
often hung out at the same pizza joint I did and preyed on the “townies.” I was
not a popular target so I watched in fascination. I also observed what went on
in the homes of our New England picture-perfect towns, something Rick depicted
well in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Ice Storm. </i>Something
Grace Metalious captured decades earlier in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Peyton
Place.</i></div>
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In Vermont, Rick and I walked through a familiar stark
winter landscape and, inside VSC’s library, he gave me feedback on the first
twenty-five pages of my work-in-progress. When I returned to my room, I looked
at the pages and at the top of the first page he wrote:</div>
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“You’ve got the chops, now loosen up.”</div>
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I’ve puzzled over this for years. At the time, I was so
incredibly grateful for those words “You’ve got the chops,” that I didn’t
realize I didn’t know what he meant by “loosen up.” Was he referring to my
language, the voice? The way the story unfolded? Too structured? Too forced? And
why, after these many years, am I remembering this now?</div>
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I noodled on that for a few days, finally admitting that my
first novel was the one I loved writing the most, a dark story about a young
woman’s coming of age in the claustrophobic controlled scary confines of a New
England town run by her father who was afraid of the mysterious woman who moved
in next door. It contained a mystery!</div>
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I also reminded myself how much I enjoyed writing “The Hotel
Deluxe.” I’d been on assignment for an upcoming online travel magazine where
I’d been sent to Portland, Oregon to write a travel piece. I was told to let my
imagination fly and encouraged to write something “different.” So I embedded a
travelogue in a mystery. I didn’t kill anyone, but the voice was pure noir.</div>
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Noir.</div>
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I got goose bumps. Always a good sign. I also had to laugh. Mom
once described me as “a good girl who wanted to be a bad.” Writing mysteries
was for good girls. Noir was for bad.</div>
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Why it took me so long to figure this out, I have no idea.
During college I’d studied film noir in a course titled “Film as Literature.” We
watched and dissected films, and Matty Walker, Catherine Tramell, and Lynn
Bracken, characters motived by hypocrisy, love, betrayal, and money, captivated
me. Flawed, intriguing, greedy, messed up characters. No one you’d want to be
friends with, but damn! I sure could have fun writing them.</div>
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But the book marketplace was flooded with mysteries and
thrillers. What could set my short noirs apart from the rest? The travel noir
piece I wrote gave me an idea. Why couldn’t I set each noir in a place Dan and
I had traveled? Weren’t there people who would love to know more about the
setting, the places mentioned in the story, if they knew they were real? I
could add a back section to each short story with links and photos and. … More
goose bumps. </div>
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Plus not everyone had the time to read or even focus on
novels. My short noir-travel stories could be read while sitting in the car
waiting for the kids to get out of school, during the inevitable long wait at the
doctors, eating pie and drinking coffee at a café while their car was being
fixed. With the back travel section, the reader could plan a trip to the
setting or just live vicariously off the photos and links.</div>
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Sometimes life works in your favor. Over the 2015 Holiday
season on a two-week vacation in Paris with Dan, I’d kept a journal and saved every
receipt and brochure. Gold! I fleshed out a character and a plot, and wrote my
first Noir Travel Story “Revenge in Paris.”</div>
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And that’s why and how I ended up writing crime, or more
accurately <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">noir.</i></div>
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My first e-story in the series “Revenge in Paris” will
launch December 1 to coincide with the holidays, and the story will be FREE to
download to your e-reader. I’m giving it away to celebrate my launch of the NOIR
TRAVEL STORY SERIES. Plus, you’ll have access to a gift card to print out and
insert in your holiday cards so you can give this free NOIR TRAVEL STORY to
everyone you know. </div>
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Because <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">you’ve</i>
been with me a long time, you get the first peek at the cover—before I reveal it
on my social media!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD4fSyXxayQXNFszP-LcMRdDFUzlTDNJ1WDB37dTP7MGybzZNkDRl4GDBwQw2GSiw7o1Q2t-9CyPvfLAlSRapjSCT0eqH8BSQx65-QrhT_92ghsEtymLF2yi4EW56lIzP1aVDWyQPOJPE/s1600/Revenge+in+Paris++copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD4fSyXxayQXNFszP-LcMRdDFUzlTDNJ1WDB37dTP7MGybzZNkDRl4GDBwQw2GSiw7o1Q2t-9CyPvfLAlSRapjSCT0eqH8BSQx65-QrhT_92ghsEtymLF2yi4EW56lIzP1aVDWyQPOJPE/s400/Revenge+in+Paris++copy.jpg" width="250" /></a></div>
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Thanks for following me. You’ll receive an announcement when
the e-book is available.</div>
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And, please, if I end up in jail, post my bail. I’ll mention
you in the credits of my next noir.</div>
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Au revoir,</div>
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Val</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPq4H4yR0RMU0pZVpirUuWR0mJXSC-8afiWBb6kGYRTOX_-hEBr854KnzcGYqD8bT1b9chINj7ZxipsJXyT0RJIv7VbuYz_5nZNQtvqFWnzK05BGm5dEdO-Sd0goyGa9SiYG2YpTG8RaA/s1600/Crime+dramas+and+underwear.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPq4H4yR0RMU0pZVpirUuWR0mJXSC-8afiWBb6kGYRTOX_-hEBr854KnzcGYqD8bT1b9chINj7ZxipsJXyT0RJIv7VbuYz_5nZNQtvqFWnzK05BGm5dEdO-Sd0goyGa9SiYG2YpTG8RaA/s320/Crime+dramas+and+underwear.jpg" width="272" /></a></div>
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For more fun with NOIR click on these links:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://lithub.com/women-crime-writers-are-not-a-fad-2/" target="_blank">WOMEN CRIME WRITERS ARE NOT A FAD</a> <br />
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<a href="http://www.complex.com/pop-culture/2012/11/the-50-hottest-femmes-fatales-of-all-time/jane-palmer" target="_blank">FIFTY HOTTEST FEMMES FATALES OF ALL TIME</a></div>
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Valerie Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03974801169865595635noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971026925134956743.post-79861446284739527272016-05-01T18:10:00.000-07:002016-05-04T08:30:55.106-07:00April is the Cruellest Month: Loss, Suicide, and Finding Joy During a Tough Month<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc8GDZ4_4jNkD88NjPNiUtCtgRaJVNM3ZQ8xAIN7IwE6fiYmupmPQ50DkHXMOePR97IUIAdlFem_5zPca_yw7BXo31-R5VWMAzBRSdJbvNKP5tpf8-hfKjEDeMFw8WABNC9Y_mCVPx6jM/s1600/Tia-a+good+day+on+the+canal-cropped.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc8GDZ4_4jNkD88NjPNiUtCtgRaJVNM3ZQ8xAIN7IwE6fiYmupmPQ50DkHXMOePR97IUIAdlFem_5zPca_yw7BXo31-R5VWMAzBRSdJbvNKP5tpf8-hfKjEDeMFw8WABNC9Y_mCVPx6jM/s400/Tia-a+good+day+on+the+canal-cropped.jpeg" width="245" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tia--a good day on the canal</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="_Tgc">Simon and Garfunkle's "April Come She Will" has been playing in my head since April 11th, the day we lost our pooch, Tia Maria, to liver cancer. It was a rough five weeks from diagnosis to the day when we had to call the vet.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="_Tgc">Dan and I loved that little dog. Never having been without dogs or cats, our empty house seemed to echo the time when I lost Dad to suicide and our family had no anchor. I also haven't been able to get T.S. Eliot's first four lines of his poem "The Waste Land" out of my head either.</span></span><br />
<br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="_Tgc">April is the cruellest month, breeding </span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="_Tgc">Lilacs out of
the dead land, mixing </span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="_Tgc">Memory and desire, stirring </span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="_Tgc">Dull roots with spring
rain.</span></span></i><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="_Tgc">I remember Mom often saying, "I hate April," that month when you expect birth from winter, the land greening with newness, the flowers and trees blooming, the sun finally remembering it needed to shine. Warmth, birdsong, goslings waddling behind their parents, calla lilies spiking through dirt.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="_Tgc"><br /></span></span>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdHV3Slh8mpwHoORBXRmkoFyaAtgdhKBau8To8LqOSj60GvtB1viqA6KpRE7dMp640EX5zQOzlF0p6GQqa6uimtIuLk6GOOz4v3ysrb-x5tqo7nDwCc7a9bs5ZlyCfqba4mrpF8yLoTmk/s1600/IMG_1683.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdHV3Slh8mpwHoORBXRmkoFyaAtgdhKBau8To8LqOSj60GvtB1viqA6KpRE7dMp640EX5zQOzlF0p6GQqa6uimtIuLk6GOOz4v3ysrb-x5tqo7nDwCc7a9bs5ZlyCfqba4mrpF8yLoTmk/s320/IMG_1683.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="_Tgc">April seems a schizophrenic month that promises a new start, a leaving of winter and a thriving of all living things but tests everything and everyone. Sometimes after seedlings burst, April will deliver a frost. Birds are wild with mating, but lose their head and smash into windows. Frenetic energy brings mistakes. The season is full of beauty and the stirring of desire--from sexual desire to a need to garden. It's all about planting of seed and escaping winter.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="_Tgc"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="_Tgc">And this brings me back to suicide and the seasons.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="_Tgc"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="_Tgc">Many believe the rate of suicide peaks in the cold and dark months of winter, but that's not true according to research. Suicide is prevalent in late spring and early summer months.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="_Tgc"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="_Tgc">My theory on this is that the holiday season keeps us engaged and filled with interaction with loved ones. My dad made it through pain and emotional suffering the winter of 1969 surrounded by family and celebration. There was hope. Then the need to carry this through with New Years and the idea that something would change, a better year, a different year. By March it's pretty damn clear that nothing has changed for the person suffering, and when April comes, so does the frenetic energy, never mind taxes and the responsibilities of clearing, growing crops, pruning, weeding, the long hot summer ahead meaning work, maybe the craziness of not being able to mate or let go of that pent up energy, and like a bird flying into the window, the mistake is made. </span></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwPhmDbsfNGaOJpruhJLa5ED57J4ariSMYnh817GCbiR4ZxY_vHoeZ7vu9_NlUuRizDwvX-y80Mp237SZspHSzUA0AKag2b1vcfmzWCiqF4QgYzvO1Uax8X_yc0ufiODioUGqONrZWf1I/s1600/Dad%252C+me+and+my+brother+Kent.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwPhmDbsfNGaOJpruhJLa5ED57J4ariSMYnh817GCbiR4ZxY_vHoeZ7vu9_NlUuRizDwvX-y80Mp237SZspHSzUA0AKag2b1vcfmzWCiqF4QgYzvO1Uax8X_yc0ufiODioUGqONrZWf1I/s320/Dad%252C+me+and+my+brother+Kent.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Dad, me and my brother Kent working in the garden 1955</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="_Tgc">So today, on the anniversary of Dad's death, I offer this letter to you, one I wrote to him today in the hope that I can pass on more info about the pattern of suicide. I have no idea if any of this will help anyone, but I do know the rate of suicide is brutal for the men and women in our military. Maybe, just maybe, if we understand more, have more information, and keep a list of resources handy, we might keep someone from leaving us, someone who if they live might invent something amazing or give birth to the next great leader. Who knows? I am ever hopeful.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="_Tgc"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="_Tgc"></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="_Tgc">Today is the first day of May. Yay! May brings birthdays, my oldest granddaughter and mine. May also brings new life. We're so excited because on May 19th we bring little Stevie, our new Havanese puppy, home.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="_Tgc"></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxHSKC7p-l4N87PQ4p0ETdDmS6TTrV9mWkK00Qbwe0KoCzMK6wJV3r2xim5WzYjeqZydZRP_I7YsRSAZOgqeSGYBp3mUzMgLD5J90ISLG07FPs8DdEaOVM8hvrNl1EPKHOUEQfNarNIcU/s1600/Stevie+at+five+weeks.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxHSKC7p-l4N87PQ4p0ETdDmS6TTrV9mWkK00Qbwe0KoCzMK6wJV3r2xim5WzYjeqZydZRP_I7YsRSAZOgqeSGYBp3mUzMgLD5J90ISLG07FPs8DdEaOVM8hvrNl1EPKHOUEQfNarNIcU/s320/Stevie+at+five+weeks.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stevie at four weeks</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="_Tgc"></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="_Tgc">Embrace life. Love and light to you all!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="_Tgc">Val </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="_Tgc"></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: large;">* * * * * * * * * * * </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span></blockquote>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";"> 30
April, 2016</span><span style="font-family: "cochin";"> </span></span>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">Dear
Dad,</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">On
this day forty-six years ago, April 30, 1970, you committed suicide.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">I
understand why you did it. You were in pain, struck down from an autoimmune
disease that hit in 1944 when you were an officer during WWII. You spent a year
in a Texas Army hospital that couldn’t diagnose your illness. Later it would be
called PTSD.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">April
3, 1970 was your 54<sup>th</sup> birthday. You told us not to buy you any
presents. You were gray-haired, skin and bones, and physically worn out. You
still had two kids at home, a 17-year-old son and a 13-year-old daughter. I was
going to have your first grandchild in July.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">But
you couldn’t wait. And as I said, I understand.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">You
were always self-sacrificing. You thought your family would be better off.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">The
truth however is something you didn’t understand and I didn’t discover until
much later—the idea of suicide is addictive like a drug. The pattern is the
same, the same spikes and plateaus, the ever-shortening relief brought on with
the bigger the need. The idea of suicide brings relief at first, but then needs
</span><span style="font-family: "cochin";">to be fed
more and more to get ever larger doses of serotonin, the calming,
happiness-producing hormone.</span><span style="font-family: "cochin";"></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">I don’t know when you first thought of suicide as
a possible way out. It could have come rather innocently.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">Maybe
it came when you had to call into work sick because your body felt aflame. Perhaps
a bill came due that you couldn’t pay or it was the day you scraped your
beloved new blue Oldsmobile against the side of the garage and realized you no
longer had control. Maybe it was from me dropping out of college, getting
pregnant, and marrying a Vietnam Vet with his own demons who I thought I could
save. Possibly it was when your business partner bailed and your business
failed. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">The
day I drove you to </span><span style="font-family: "cochin";">the VA Hospital in Vermont for tests, you thought you might have
cancer. You hadn’t felt good for three years you said. B</span><span style="font-family: "cochin";">ecause the hospital had no doctors on staff that day
or over the weekend, they said to go home. We went for coffee. You seemed calm
and relaxed. In an unusual confession, you told me you had never wanted
children because of your condition, knowing you wouldn’t be a good father, even
admitted to being too controlling, like your father was. Later, I would realize
that this was your way of saying sorry, and goodbye. Thank you for that. Later,
it would give me understanding and closure.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";"> </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">Whatever
first put the idea of suicide into your head, you thought of it and experienced
your first hit of serotonin. You were back in control and had a way out if need
be.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">That
didn’t last however. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">The
next time you experienced stress and your body was wracked with pain, you
thought of suicide again, and that brought relief, only this time not as much.
When the pattern repeated, relief came when you started planning your suicide.
Now the relief was stronger and longer.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">The
family doctor had given you painkillers. That’s how you’d do it. A big surge of
relief this time. You functioned for a while and felt back in control. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">But
it didn’t last long, and the next time some incident brought back the pain, you
were ready to be done with it. You calmly took that bottle of pills and laid
down on the bed, waiting for relief. Instead, you slept for three days.
Probably you’d built your drug tolerance too high. Mom had me go over to change
your sheets and I found you in the bed, and you were breathing, but wouldn’t
wake up. Only nineteen and scared, I called Mom, but Mom said let him sleep.
He’s tired. He sleeps a lot. So I covered him and left.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">After
the failed attempt, you no longer felt a big surge of serotonin. So this time you
started carefully planning, took your time, and made sure your business was in
order, from making sure your insurance policy had no suicide clause to figuring
out how much paint it would take to finish painting the garage. The serotonin
surged. You were acting happy around that time, even for your birthday on April
3<sup>rd</sup>.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">By the end of the month, you’d finished writing a love
letter to Mom and telling her how and why you were doing what you were doing. You’d
convinced yourself that since you couldn’t provide for your family anymore and
no one could help you medically, you’d end up being a financial burden on your
family. You said you hadn’t felt good for three years and didn’t want to get
out of bed in the morning. I wondered if you cried as you wrote that four-page
letter. I can imagine you also felt relief. You felt free. You’d done the right
thing for your family. You gave Mom instructions on everything she’d have to do
after you were gone, including having me paint the rest of the garage. You told
Mom how much you loved her and the best days of your life had been with her.
You said how sorry you were. You even apologized to me for not being there to
see your first grandchild and made a joke that we would probably not name our
baby after you, Albert Horace. You also told Mom where the police could find
your body. You didn’t want Kent and Wendy coming home from school and finding you.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">You folded the letter, sealed it in an envelope,
and left it along with a copy of your insurance policy standing against the fruit
bowl on the kitchen table.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">Then you drove to town, bought a new license for
the dog, paid all outstanding bills, got a haircut, drove home to leave the
license and pick up your gun.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">At one of your former favorite hunting grounds in
Sanbornton, you parked your car. That beautiful blue Oldsmobile that you loved
so. The day was sunny. A lovely flood of serotonin hit. You no longer had to
worry about your family or the burden you’d become. You’d no longer be in pain.
The gun felt familiar in your hand. I don’t know if you were crying or smiling
or just ready to go. Then you shot yourself.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">You were free. But we had to suffer the burden
that suicide leaves on a family.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">I’ve
had many years to heal from losing you. I still write letters to you and one
year I even bought a Father’s Day card for you. This year I want you to know
one thing: I don’t blame you, Dad, for what you did. Many forces were at play. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">I
blame war and our stupid fixation on what is heroic. I blame a system that hadn’t
identified PTSD as real or the health system that failed you and still fails
others in our military. I blame the Greatest Generation’s belief that they
could control everything and valued keeping an outward appearance of perfection
vs. recognizing when a family or person was in trouble. You couldn’t ask for
help. It was too embarrassing and would be a sign of weakness.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">Suicide is <i>not</i> painless. We would have rather
had you alive even if it meant hard times, because suicide caused rough years for
all of us. Twenty years after your death, like a gateway to grief, when my two dogs
died in one year, I finally felt your loss and grieved so hard I thought I’d
never stop crying.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">I love you. And as I said, I understand your
decision. I don’t even look at it as the wrong decision. It was the only one
you thought you had at the time, and who knows? I cannot see into the parallel
universe that would have been if you had lived.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">All I can say is you were and are deeply loved and
missed. I forgave you years ago for leaving so soon. You missed so much joy with
Jason and his girls and the two great-grandsons. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">Yes, there is pain in life, but joy is always
around the corner. You just need to be patient and keep the light on.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">Love always,</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cochin";">Valerie</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="_Tgc"><br /></span></span>
<span class="_Tgc"><br /></span>Valerie Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03974801169865595635noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971026925134956743.post-83943891530893839752015-04-01T15:00:00.000-07:002015-04-01T15:00:04.509-07:005 Ways to Inexpensively Create a Standing Computer Station—and Add Years to Your Life<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm0tJfMlr4Suetikzl_hMIld38Tdoeg1y7Zt_zdmDo7Dg58wVswfR2XWu6waQfyyLB1BwDlyQkTCC8ZaqH6MiWO_kUzjIEv5Liga9ZTIRWEeoNm-iHizetq-yR53Bs_4IzQJwfnaTKm5c/s1600/IMG_2712.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm0tJfMlr4Suetikzl_hMIld38Tdoeg1y7Zt_zdmDo7Dg58wVswfR2XWu6waQfyyLB1BwDlyQkTCC8ZaqH6MiWO_kUzjIEv5Liga9ZTIRWEeoNm-iHizetq-yR53Bs_4IzQJwfnaTKm5c/s1600/IMG_2712.JPG" height="320" width="136" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">Long before I heard “sitting is the new smoking,” I knew I was killing myself. As a fiction writer, I’d sit for hours, immersed in a story with no sense of time. When I did take breaks (to make a cup of tea or hit the bathroom), I’d stretch and do breath work, but I still had to go to a massage therapist to work out the kinks. But as time went on and the computer became even more of a shackle with the internet, webinars, and research, I found my muscles not as easy to use in dance class and my ability to stretch shortening.<br /><br />When I started having trouble rising from a sitting position, I knew I had to change my habits, so I looked online where I found a number of great tables that converted to standing, but were too expensive.<br /><br />The solution came when I started writing in a Barnes & Noble cafe and moved from the short tables to the tall. I found I could stand, on and off, for the five hours I was there. That gave me ideas, and now I stand and work more than I sit. Standing also reminds me to stretch and breath and move. An added benefit is I don't hunch over. <br /><br />Here are five ways you, too, can create standing stations or find places to write with standing capability.<br /><br />CAFES<br />I often write in cafes as it takes me away from phones, laundry, dog, husband, etc. The first photo is of me standing at one of the B&N tables. The second photo is at Cafe Vero, an old Victorian house, where Sonny the owner put in a shelf along a hallway and included a strip of plugins. The chairs are high, the counter just right for standing.</span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRSb-kfW9jFhxNrYl2tnQyTittGNc6YpuWvqncB2rM0sKRTwSbH2KoUFzygKwPb3ywoHkeT2LQIK-QeLxt9VW0NTdT6I_Gbqrju_buv9GYY-ppwtzhKEu4LeSOJFbp08B4z3FERAjRNKc/s1600/IMG_1133.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRSb-kfW9jFhxNrYl2tnQyTittGNc6YpuWvqncB2rM0sKRTwSbH2KoUFzygKwPb3ywoHkeT2LQIK-QeLxt9VW0NTdT6I_Gbqrju_buv9GYY-ppwtzhKEu4LeSOJFbp08B4z3FERAjRNKc/s1600/IMG_1133.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At B&N</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHdZu_w6E1zwozc7plkB4sZvrSW7d4WgxuEGg9RnrB-dFHXrsvqTOL3G9rm8eN7JIcxB_R3aPVsNUHKH-C3UsXiJr51lkne_FWAPNfLCh3B-2OFXUDl3dfqW8fN6XitASbOUEFlA0r2N8/s1600/IMG_0800.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHdZu_w6E1zwozc7plkB4sZvrSW7d4WgxuEGg9RnrB-dFHXrsvqTOL3G9rm8eN7JIcxB_R3aPVsNUHKH-C3UsXiJr51lkne_FWAPNfLCh3B-2OFXUDl3dfqW8fN6XitASbOUEFlA0r2N8/s1600/IMG_0800.jpg" height="320" width="206" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cafe Vero</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Tip</b>: start out standing for a short, comfortable time period and increase as you get used to it.<br /><br />REGULAR TABLES<br />Everyone has a regular table at home. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I often attend writers retreats at Oregon Writers Colony’s Colonyhouse. Because I was desperate to stand while working, I first stacked oversized books from their library on the dining table for a pedestal effect, but the books were cumbersome and not sturdy.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVDWUn1oWIurGxURhJlOG-LO4376TB9B7snEfcvlY8LhdWBUuIOdal0foYC0jD810enk4uQQ4XtE1X6SSNE9wjdITYDU_kM4M89yWpxcDG_9ZKXMCHgHs6tOxdDRO5TZODF_5x-lOor-c/s1600/IMG_2634.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVDWUn1oWIurGxURhJlOG-LO4376TB9B7snEfcvlY8LhdWBUuIOdal0foYC0jD810enk4uQQ4XtE1X6SSNE9wjdITYDU_kM4M89yWpxcDG_9ZKXMCHgHs6tOxdDRO5TZODF_5x-lOor-c/s1600/IMG_2634.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIMPj9SSqAbriy9-cKdKW0pGaWTd13lHkOXlc8vOHJUnx7SVV11o7_Sue8b31_Q-Wt-2EEdyGGdNBo7Ag2Vj8TbzcPg77QZp_uPoJTz9bepP1-CWKKcXjyfi-uRClQlhVSHcyOa4VWojk/s1600/IMG_2632.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIMPj9SSqAbriy9-cKdKW0pGaWTd13lHkOXlc8vOHJUnx7SVV11o7_Sue8b31_Q-Wt-2EEdyGGdNBo7Ag2Vj8TbzcPg77QZp_uPoJTz9bepP1-CWKKcXjyfi-uRClQlhVSHcyOa4VWojk/s1600/IMG_2632.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmkEygJITqr2cxqYvmbmkIcngftE6UjgE8DsUtX53C0IJdE6jaR2E7DcZOsXXJxidJrRl2NxJzLUJQ2MuP-VSDes6YJJ5IaivY3YrCGlBE5pmf6mlbip1vwabTxd9TkQgX_BIpuPgmyto/s1600/IMG_2452.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmkEygJITqr2cxqYvmbmkIcngftE6UjgE8DsUtX53C0IJdE6jaR2E7DcZOsXXJxidJrRl2NxJzLUJQ2MuP-VSDes6YJJ5IaivY3YrCGlBE5pmf6mlbip1vwabTxd9TkQgX_BIpuPgmyto/s1600/IMG_2452.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">Then I remembered my mom’s lap desk we’d stored at the house. This is the easiest conversion as it’s portable, folds up, and goes with me to Colonyhouse. Bed Bath & Beyond carry them for around $12-15. An additional feature of this lap desk is that the top adjusts for a slanted surface, perfect for writing with pen and paper, say for example, when you’re editing hard copy or writing in a journal. Also works when reading a magazine or book.<br /><br /><b>Tip</b>: to make standing easier on your feet and back, buy a gel pad for the floor. You can find these in the kitchen section of many stores as they are usually used on tile floors in front of a sink or food prep area. Mine is a GelPro.<br /><br />EXISTING SHELVES OR COUNTERS<br />I fortunately have a shelf in my writing room that’s perfect for standing and gives me a beautiful view out the window of our front yard. I use this when I’m working on my laptop and don’t need two monitors. Almost any shelf can be used like this if one is available. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKcqjxEFmzl5zCcft7sVZQyCk0ez1NfMoFjXZ_YqHr2YkXWVyXVwE7beJKSLWo4KDRQuu5x9hILyBjsTgcsQlcRSn3S5JudwwigH3V9wCnQ5CFKmtFPAUMTc-s7pZwFkU_M9KQUtbpxKc/s1600/IMG_2711.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKcqjxEFmzl5zCcft7sVZQyCk0ez1NfMoFjXZ_YqHr2YkXWVyXVwE7beJKSLWo4KDRQuu5x9hILyBjsTgcsQlcRSn3S5JudwwigH3V9wCnQ5CFKmtFPAUMTc-s7pZwFkU_M9KQUtbpxKc/s1600/IMG_2711.jpg" height="320" width="245" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A shelf under a window can easily be constructed out of shelf brackets and a board. At your neighborhood home improvement store, they may even have something already available. Look for, say for example, a shelf that normally holds potted plants. Or ask for help on something that could easily be anchored to the wall.<br /><br />REGULAR COMPUTER TABLE<br />If you’re working at a regular computer table, one that has a back shelf for an external monitor and a pull out extension for a keyboard, you’re in luck. This type of computer table is usually inexpensive to buy or can be found at second hand stores like St. Vincent dePaul. I often need to use both my laptop and an external monitor when creating a blog, doing research on my novel, or watching a webinar while taking notes. <br /> </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYNwmtTMkohMPCvpAZJ20-P91AJgBgt7Bt3vgyPVizf2aU9d8lEHNXmmchflL_DeDuhwXxzAL1_MAMO2eByxMpVqYddywn_QATRQ1HOYQ9WS7AFYG-gQsC8Bx9us-zh218xGbx-40TIJo/s1600/IMG_2706.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYNwmtTMkohMPCvpAZJ20-P91AJgBgt7Bt3vgyPVizf2aU9d8lEHNXmmchflL_DeDuhwXxzAL1_MAMO2eByxMpVqYddywn_QATRQ1HOYQ9WS7AFYG-gQsC8Bx9us-zh218xGbx-40TIJo/s1600/IMG_2706.jpg" height="320" width="224" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When I'm sitting</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtV9c222mhYZvfMjB9MPD6x9P2RVNcs0ZcKHysFA-eXlfZ8HMhAjKFR65CRiiNxTSJN0EyC4C-6HrVQozOCtIBsaTJnu__49UGgu7-s5DVwbxwzHFzcKgU8v4dHhFuTt6Us95TxE8Ytus/s1600/IMG_2708.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtV9c222mhYZvfMjB9MPD6x9P2RVNcs0ZcKHysFA-eXlfZ8HMhAjKFR65CRiiNxTSJN0EyC4C-6HrVQozOCtIBsaTJnu__49UGgu7-s5DVwbxwzHFzcKgU8v4dHhFuTt6Us95TxE8Ytus/s1600/IMG_2708.jpg" height="320" width="226" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When I'm standing</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I was at a loss, at first, as to how to convert this area for standing. But then I thought that, if I had a way to raise my laptop on the pullout shelf, I could stand. Unfortunately, the lap desk was too big for the keyboard-size pullout, and piling books would be too heavy, BUT if I had a smaller version of the lap desk that would fit the pullout shelf, I could make it work.<br /><br />With my husband’s help, I drew up dimensions for what looks like a little footstool, and my husband made it in his shop. It’s even a bit fancier than what I’d asked for, but if you have a handyman or woman around who can cut out plain shapes and screw them together, you can do this, too.<br /><br />As you can see in the photo, I use my laptop on the pullout with the mini-table, and I change the external monitor’s slant so it slants upward. Now I can see both monitors while standing, although I have to use my laptop keyboard instead of the ergonomic. <br /><br /><b>Tip</b>: To make up for not being able to use my ergonomic keyboard, I found a great accessory that helps with my hand position and keeps my laptop from overheating. Made by Road Tools, the Podium CoolPad goes with me everywhere. It adjusts in height and swivels, letting you use it slanted up or down. At the B&N tables, which are high, I use it slanted down so I don’t crimp my hands.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">OTHER POSSIBILITIES</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Search websites for "standing computer stations." I</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">’</span>m not familiar with this site, BizChair, but they offer this <b><a href="http://www.bizchair.com/nan-jn-2792-gg.html?utm_source=Bing.com&utm_medium=Comparison&utm_campaign=%20Bing%20Shopping" target="_blank">inexpensive laptop table</a> </b>that</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">’</span>s portable and moves. My only concern would be the rollers causing it to move, something that I wouldn</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">’</span>t want, but might be OK if the rollers locked or the table was on carpet.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">If you like your standing station solid and made of wood, <b>podiums</b>, like the type used in classes or for presentations or even churches, are often the right height for a laptop. They also usually have a nook for storing small things, something I need when working as I usually need pen and paper and my cellphone. (I use my cellphone for a timer as it keeps me aware of how long I</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">’</span>ve been writing and standing.) If you frequent second hand shops, ask the owner to keep an eye out for a podium or computer desk and to call you if one comes in.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Drafting tables or graphic design tables, although large, can be adjusted to a standing height. I don't think they</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">’</span>re as popular as they used to be because most drafting and design are done on computers, so it</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">’</span>s possible there are a number of them out there no longer in use. Maybe a school or college would be worth checking out?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Don</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">’</span>t forget your friends and family. Let them know what you're looking for, either via Facebook or email. Check sites like Craigslist. If you have a friend who works in wood, maybe a swap is in order.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqFepR8TKXq6k0dStKjMYU3-rBeoKAcKAkXk3XdmhkEaKy2sY2-XYjtaVPTGoPhp3HxkDY25MpsEHcvJInLMQJOJDhyphenhyphenXvNKB1dbtVUOqKnFOs_Q5mnBOZjGkAFSnoAB3kTVaQAJ2_AgEQ/s1600/IMG_2713.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqFepR8TKXq6k0dStKjMYU3-rBeoKAcKAkXk3XdmhkEaKy2sY2-XYjtaVPTGoPhp3HxkDY25MpsEHcvJInLMQJOJDhyphenhyphenXvNKB1dbtVUOqKnFOs_Q5mnBOZjGkAFSnoAB3kTVaQAJ2_AgEQ/s1600/IMG_2713.JPG" height="258" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A panorama of my writing room</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Tip</b>: I bought my Mac ergonomic split keyboard from the folks at <a href="http://www.thehumansolution.com/" target="_blank">The Human Solution</a> and their service is beyond compare. They sell amazing desks and chairs, too. Even for my simple questions about a keyboard, they responded quickly and checked on me after they responded. Someday, when my ship comes in, I</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">’</span>ll buy a set-up from them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">ONE LAST SUGGESTION</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Keep moving! I love to dance and my body loves me for it. I keep a few YouTube videos for taking a break. Since I</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">’</span>m already standing, it</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">’</span>s easy to play one and move for ten minutes. My feet always say thank you!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I Love Zumba: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/user/Daniellehabibis?annotation_id=54742008-0000-2c95-8bc4-001a113d2dcc&feature=iv&src_vid=mwzwD6OePGQ" target="_blank">One of my Favorite YouTube Channels</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />WHY SITTING WILL TAKE YEARS OFF YOUR LIFE<br />If you</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">’</span>re wondering what all the fuss is about sitting, this article explains the research behind the perils of sitting for long stretches of time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.theactivetimes.com/sitting-new-smoking-7-ways-sedentary-lifestyle-killing-you?utm_source=huffington%2Bpost&utm_medium=partner&utm_campaign=sitting" target="_blank">7 Ways a Sedentary Lifestyle is Killing You</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sitting will kill you isn't exactly a happy message. But just as with the days when we used to smoke, ignorance is not bliss. So I leave you with this.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbDApm4mmqEt4NszZfFZAS1OTp4InAj5zgBO1TbBcitJLmx2GfYUQZ51J1KH2zWC8U4tIaoxyrciOPPnPGEJY7qIBtkGPGQwtvqsk1N8BcPjnMyQzqIaw6PVTvWA-9e-PjmnlXeI7sHNY/s1600/Isadora+Duncan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbDApm4mmqEt4NszZfFZAS1OTp4InAj5zgBO1TbBcitJLmx2GfYUQZ51J1KH2zWC8U4tIaoxyrciOPPnPGEJY7qIBtkGPGQwtvqsk1N8BcPjnMyQzqIaw6PVTvWA-9e-PjmnlXeI7sHNY/s1600/Isadora+Duncan.jpg" height="320" width="247" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Keep dancing, keep writing!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Hugs,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Valerie</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">What</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">’</span>s next on Gobsmacked? A peek at my writing life and a giveaway, with an emphasis on Paris.</span><br />
<br />Valerie Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03974801169865595635noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971026925134956743.post-27177871398129443192015-01-05T09:00:00.000-08:002015-01-05T09:00:04.925-08:00Different New Year Resolution & Why Writing Makes You Healthier<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixsCt5ff4O11q2-en6_912TIYEnLXChUlkZqiOD31ytdUaMuULyQbH3LdfhnnTfN_5Ak8OVtTdIQJe6X7RtWPMJhOQLV7wYXHtxkRPufiiK4HJv1zMP0o3KT9WZKbrWLKES8ySUOemJiU/s1600/new-years-resolution-generator-2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixsCt5ff4O11q2-en6_912TIYEnLXChUlkZqiOD31ytdUaMuULyQbH3LdfhnnTfN_5Ak8OVtTdIQJe6X7RtWPMJhOQLV7wYXHtxkRPufiiK4HJv1zMP0o3KT9WZKbrWLKES8ySUOemJiU/s1600/new-years-resolution-generator-2.png" height="160" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Did you know that of those who make resolutions (45% of us) only 8% successfully achieve them. For more fun facts and statistics click on this link:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /><a href="http://www.statisticbrain.com/new-years-resolution-statistics/" target="_blank">New Year Resolution Statistics and Fun Facts</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">THE POWER OF IMAGES<br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">This year, I found a different way to approach resolutions. In my Christmas stocking, Santa left my annual Marilyn Monroe calendar. (Isn't he a sweetie to remember what I want?) When I saw January's photo of the great MM, I knew how I would use the image.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZrDsEzSf1RwEgL6Zl5kfdwPLuGDN8HNYTPg6O-PvZjOp9zl66KnyCBARWyzdWvZPGxEKRZkXvhWd3FOSQkKyCp6sB0yn01Sbvfq6ofWXPfQFCsibqCLDQFTmzHFl1SXT8yX5qTi27WzQ/s1600/January+Marilyn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZrDsEzSf1RwEgL6Zl5kfdwPLuGDN8HNYTPg6O-PvZjOp9zl66KnyCBARWyzdWvZPGxEKRZkXvhWd3FOSQkKyCp6sB0yn01Sbvfq6ofWXPfQFCsibqCLDQFTmzHFl1SXT8yX5qTi27WzQ/s1600/January+Marilyn.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Look at that expression! All joy and hopefulness. I'm using that image for my 2015 emotional rudder. She’s lit up and gorgeous, isn’t she?<br /><br />TO MAKE NEW YEAR RESOLUTIONS OR NOT?<br /><br />Ok, some of you feel compelled to make resolutions. I understand. If so, read this post. I think it will help. Oh, and btw, it's ok to change your resolutions, refine them, ditch them, or even map them out over time. Whatever works. Just remember: be good to yourself, be kind, be reasonable. Ask yourself, would you want your son or daughter or mother or father to make resolutions like yours? Can you <i>really</i> achieve that? Or do you need to break that massive resolution (Publish a novel!) down into doable parts (write a chapter a month).<br /><br /><a href="http://gobsmackedwriter.blogspot.com/2012/01/2012-resolutions-best-served-with-humor.html" target="_blank">Resolutions Best Served with Humor</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirVU5hXTI1nRPh6GY1zlU_eOhCBmkNhBftvSWVZ_l-AyxmsfNHhheHjoK4AjE2Gd59GaRqgljC9_5wI3-KaEMcbSP_I9tw-zrjg-6FWvjJRmxiRsde85vC0VU-bc-GjQyr50dvhkoWxyU/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirVU5hXTI1nRPh6GY1zlU_eOhCBmkNhBftvSWVZ_l-AyxmsfNHhheHjoK4AjE2Gd59GaRqgljC9_5wI3-KaEMcbSP_I9tw-zrjg-6FWvjJRmxiRsde85vC0VU-bc-GjQyr50dvhkoWxyU/s1600/images.jpg" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />WRITING TO FEEL BETTER? YOU BET! PLUS, WRITE TO HEAL FASTER. NO KIDDING!<br /><br />For those of you who don’t consider yourselves writers, I have news for you. Maybe you should try it. Not for publication, heaven help you, but to increase your life span and improve mental health.<br /> <br />In a 2005 study on the emotional and physical health benefits of expressive writing, researchers found that just 15-20 minutes of writing three to five times over the course of the four-month study was enough to make a difference. <br /><br />Another study proved that wounds healed faster and cancer patients improved the quality of their life. Here’s a link to one article about the studies:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://mic.com/articles/98348/science-shows-writers-have-a-serious-advantage-over-the-rest-of-us" target="_blank">Science Shows Writers Have a Serious Advantage Over the Rest of Us</a><br /><br />Grab one of those lovely journals or, if you hate messing up a lovely journal, a pad of lined paper. Dabble, scribble, pen your thoughts, your dreams, the ideas that you never want anyone else to see. You’ll be amazed when you let go of that perfectionist streak that keeps you from being messy. Face it! Thoughts are messy. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTSGixb0WlLrfnLhzmxeBhjKeN7F_TMADjmHBmEqRSoe8gK_iNKhFGyK_TJtlQfJ0tFn4EonRN7HrWi0qvYxwEg-V_mNb_3RswKDRvlmldiQK151f623gMB0G2NY-o2Ki0q6f_B12mrj8/s1600/Journals+copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTSGixb0WlLrfnLhzmxeBhjKeN7F_TMADjmHBmEqRSoe8gK_iNKhFGyK_TJtlQfJ0tFn4EonRN7HrWi0qvYxwEg-V_mNb_3RswKDRvlmldiQK151f623gMB0G2NY-o2Ki0q6f_B12mrj8/s1600/Journals+copy.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">When you’re not worrying about what other people think about your writing, you don’t have to contain, perfect, or edit what you write. Just gloriously stream-of-consciousness get it down on paper. Or in the sand, on a wall (yours preferably), or across a roll of brown wrapping paper. I’ve written on napkins. (No to phones or laptops. You have to connect directly with pen, crayon, or pencil with any other surface.)<br /><br />Wow. Doesn’t that feel good? <br /><br />WINNERS OF NADINE GORDIMER & PD JAMES NOVELS<br /><br />Congrats to Tonya Rice who won the Nadine Gordimer collection <i>Life Times</i> and to Judith Watt who won the detective collection that includes PD James. What a great way to start the new year!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Hugs to you all,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Valerie</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: red;">Coming Up!</span></b> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Sitting is the New Smoking: How to convert your writing space for a healthier you</b><br /></span>Valerie Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03974801169865595635noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971026925134956743.post-67955024825067573282014-12-15T04:00:00.000-08:002015-01-04T22:57:22.849-08:00The Concert VIP Experience with Fleetwood Mac—What It’s Really Like<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy-7yNI5tBa8zRAFOwZAPWBUHOS4VmDXZoOQt4UoGyhnRAwiH3Ksd9BVeAm0kn1KWBZae66D-EakG4uG4qS-QyndkApiji8iTHM1NvB9vozoMFXlZuvB54rFxQXhZqw89M3-uvTpLQQqw/s1600/Fleetwood+Mac.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy-7yNI5tBa8zRAFOwZAPWBUHOS4VmDXZoOQt4UoGyhnRAwiH3Ksd9BVeAm0kn1KWBZae66D-EakG4uG4qS-QyndkApiji8iTHM1NvB9vozoMFXlZuvB54rFxQXhZqw89M3-uvTpLQQqw/s1600/Fleetwood+Mac.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />Rocking Out with The Mac—Back Together Again<br /><br />Fleetwood Mac is my all-time favorite rock band.<br />Through their early years, especially the <i>Rumours</i> album years, I’d fallen in love and out of love and in love again. I’d made a mistake with a married man, spent a lonely and scared winter in a wild land far from home, had forsaken love and grown cynical, and then ended up with the love of my life. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No, not him!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Him! Dan's the love of my life.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">No better soundtrack fit my life then. Fleetwood Mac’s music also echoed the life I wanted to live, a life with creativity at its core.<br />When the band announced that Christine McVie was back after a sixteen year absence and they were going on tour, I knew I had to see them again. I’ve always sat in upper sections for their concerts, having to see them through binoculars or on giant screens, their bodies but miniatures moving around on stage.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />When VIP tickets went on sale, I thought how lucky those people were who bought them.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />But why couldn’t I be one of those people? This could be the last time they played together. If I had a bucket list, this would be at the top. Could I push past my Scottish freak-out no-impulse-buying self, and then overcome a scarcity consciousness guilt trip? (What about the homeless, the old kitchen sink that needs replacing, my 92-year-old mother in Florida?)<br />I went online. I filled in the necessary information. I put in my credit card info.<br />I went to click on the BUY button.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">I closed the tab instead.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /><br />VIP TICKETS</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Here’s the deal on VIP tickets for concerts. Most people buying these tickets know only the essentials, the info given online. The online info for this VIP ticket promised a seat in one of the first five rows and a meeting onstage with Mick Fleetwood who would talk and answer questions. I would also have a photo taken with him and be given tour mementos. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">But what I wanted more than anything was a front row seat with standing access to the stage during the concert. Would the cost be worth it?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />A little info about VIP tickets in general: VIP tickets can include 1) meeting the whole band, 2) only meeting one member as this one did, or 3) just front row seats and some trinkets. VIP tickets sell for as much as or more than $1500; the lowest I heard was $350. A regular ticket on the floor at this Fleetwood Mac concert cost $179. Add on another $500 for the VIP privilege.<br />I’d be paying a whopping, heart-stopping $700.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhebtxxc8E1KQ53pVWtaBEu-pbNmHQndA0LSzHupuq1S_c6on9pnr6kTaaboFv8Hj093uq-85IBpP8SLF3oIMs6JFYKGr945g9rK_kdzMP-u-rwZ8AKUBpmE4YzITSh2ZbFUhEuIvUb3hI/s1600/txs.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhebtxxc8E1KQ53pVWtaBEu-pbNmHQndA0LSzHupuq1S_c6on9pnr6kTaaboFv8Hj093uq-85IBpP8SLF3oIMs6JFYKGr945g9rK_kdzMP-u-rwZ8AKUBpmE4YzITSh2ZbFUhEuIvUb3hI/s1600/txs.JPG" height="200" width="150" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">So I did what I do when faced with a decision like this. I pictured myself sitting in the nose bleed section again. I pictured myself after the concert. I tapped into how I would feel. I cried.</span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">When I got home, I bought the ticket.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Front row. Seat 8. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">I had a moment of panic. Then I jumped up and down, let out a yelp, and cried in relief.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />THE CONCERT<br />Jump to the Saturday morning of the concert. <br />Dan and I had overnight reservations for the Marilyn Monroe room at the Jupiter Hotel. We packed the car—suitcase, pillows, drinks, concert clothes. When I couldn’t find the paperwork for the reservation, I called the Jupiter.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Didn't happen</td></tr>
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I’d screwed up. The reservation was for Friday night. We not only had no room, we now had to pay for a night as a “no show.”<br />That no show flipped me out. Was this a bad sign? Dan said not to worry, we’d drive home after the show and get in around 2:00 a.m. No big deal. We headed to Portland without unpacking.<br /><br />3:00 We arrived at the Moda’s box office lobby early. Following the email instructions that arrived three days earlier, we waited at the box office for the VIP guide who would arrive at 4:30 with our tickets. A crowd of forty people slowly amassed and I talked to a few. One couple our age took Rock Legends cruises; a young woman, Stephanie, had been to a Fleetwood Mac VIP meet and greet and told us a little about what to expect; a woman in a Stevie Nicks ensemble came over, gave me a hug, and told me she loved my outfit. Justin, our guide, showed up at exactly 4:30, had us line up for our tickets at the box office, handed out lanyards with Mick Fleetwood’s photo and with good humor and a scripted intro proceeded to tell us how the VIP tour would go. Dan waited with me. I had bought him a ticket on the floor, but he wouldn’t be able to go in with us. I’d text him when the VIP tour was done. I needed to change for the concert and figured I had enough time between the VIP event and the 8:00 concert to dash out to the car to change. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />Justine said to follow him and we headed to the entrance, where he informed us once in the Moda Center, we will not be able to re-enter if we left. Great. Now I wouldn't be able to change into my new concert jacket. Also, at that point, I didn’t want to let go of Dan. Seeing other couples go in together, excited and talking, made me wish I’d bought him a front row ticket, too. At least we could be together just before the show. We kissed good-bye.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />Inside, Justin gave us a bathroom stop. Then we followed him down to the front rows, took seats in the middle section, and were told that we would go onstage to meet Mick Fleetwood.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />“Some of the instruments onstage,” he said, “are older than the band members, so please don’t touch anything and stay together in a cluster at stage left. Leave your coats and purses, all cameras and phones, on your seat. You cannot use audio or video during the meet and greet. Ready?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />I took off my coat and shoulder purse, and left them on the seat. We climbed metal stairs and stood on Lindsey’s side of the stage, stage left. I was on a mission to get a good photo of him for my fourteen year old granddaughter Maddi, who called him her “older man.” She sent me videos of her rocking out to Fleetwood Mac. The whole family would be there tonight, but up in the nosebleed section. I wouldn’t see them, but I knew they were there.<br />I stood next to Mick’s 18 carat gold coated drums. Blindingly gorgeous. So was the inlaid Koa wood kit. More like jewelry than drums. In an interview I had read in "The Sunday Express," Mick said he’d probably be a crazy old man busy melting down all the gold drum stands, as he had a warehouse of them. He called it “the new rock ’n’roll retirement plan.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="http://www.express.co.uk/comment/expresscomment/477957/Mick-Fleetwood-column-Talking-Drums" target="_blank">Mick Fleetwood's interview on the Express</a> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">MICK<br />Then he appeared, tall, still skinny, wearing a sapphire blue jacket that looks vintage and a scarf with colors of the Hawaiian Islands (gold, blue, orange). He was accompanied by Robert who I called a “handler”and who Mick called his assistant. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Mick said hello with a big smile. He was laid back. His white hair was messily pulled back in a ponytail. Because we weren’t allowed recording devices, I have to paraphrase. Most of what he said has to do with the excitement and rejuvenation of the band with Christine being back. Mick was generous with his energy. He told us about</span></span><br />
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his drums, said one of our VIP members was a friend from Maui who had designed the inlay for the wood drums. We applauded. Mick made us laugh when he said John McVie wouldn’t do a meet and greet if his life depended on it, that John didn’t even like a light on him while he played during the concert.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Mick’s assistant brought out shiny black leather loafers. Mick explained that he was wearing his red drumming shoes and if he stayed standing in those for very long they’d cripple him. At Robert’s prodding, Mick sat down on the drum platform. He was three feet from me. The loafers were so close, I could see their high arch supports.<br /><br />“This is a first,” he says, as he changed shoes in front of us.<br />Then photos with Mick began. Justin with a professional digital camera called people up to stand next to Mick. Photos would be posted online. Our instructions had given us a link where they could be downloaded. Stephanie, the girl I met earlier, asked Mick if she could have a hug for her picture and he said, “Yes, of course!”<br /> <br />Unfortunately, when it was my turn, he was distracted by his friend from Hawaii and I didn’t get to ask for a hug. But that was fine. When I left the stage and descended the metal stairs, I said hi to the cute little girl, Mick’s granddaughter Isidora, and asked how she was doing. She rolled her eyes like, “Oh, god, this is so boring.”<br />Instead of sitting down, I stood with a couple I’d talked with earlier. They were dancing in the aisle. “Warming up,” they said.<br /><br />When photos were done, Mick joined us off stage to answer questions. He was asked about his “balls.” For those who don’t know, Mick had always gone onstage with a set of wooden balls about the size of golf balls, attached to and hanging from his belt. They were his good luck totem.<br /><br />He told the story about the early days with Peter Green while playing the blues in small joints in Europe and hope the band made the Sex Pistols look tame. I thought he said that Peter Green actually let his balls, his real ones, hang out of his pants while playing. One day Mick had gone into the men’s toilet and taken down two of the chains with wood balls at the end that were pulled to flush the toilet. That had been the first time he wore them on stage. He lost that pair, but he kept others in a safe backstage. He wouldn't go onstage without them.<br /><br />Mick talked about Christine being back with the band, technical drum stuff that I’m not educated enough to pass on, the blues influence on their music, and, with self-deprecation, his drumming accolades. (This <a href="http://www.cbc.ca/q/popupaudio.html?clipIds=2625414408" target="_blank">interview with the CBC Q</a> program covers most of what he talked about onstage.)<br /><br />When he finished and went backstage, most of us headed to</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> concessions to buy food, cocktails and water. I met Dan when they let the rest of the ticket holders in around 6:30 and we grabbed something to eat. I also had to fork out $45 for a t-shirt because our VIP mementos, given to us earlier, were a drum cover with Mick Fleetwood’s initials and an autographed photo of him. Our meet-and-greet lasted about an hour and a half.<br /><br />THE CONCERT</span></span><br />
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This is what you pay the big bucks for.<br />Around 7:40 Dan and I headed into the arena where we kissed good-bye again. When I joined the other VIPs, I put my jacket and mementos under my seat and looked around. I wanted to be in front of Stevie who had always been an icon in my life for so many reasons (poetess, goddess, mystical, mythical, Gemini, tough survivor), but a number of unexpected things happened.</span></span><br />
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<br />When I tried to move over toward where Stevie would be, one of the security guards stopped me. “Where’s your seat?” I pointed. He told me to stay at a spot at the stage near my seat. Then he forced everyone standing who didn’t have a front row seat to return to their seats. These people had paid the same amount of money as I had. Stephanie, the young woman I'd met earlier and who told me what to expect, was forced to take her second row seat. They weren’t polite. <br />Then two beautiful young women moved in next to me. They were squealing, hugging each other and saying, “Oh, my god, I can’t believe it! I can’t believe it!” Justin our VIP guide was “beautifying the pit” as the guy next to me called it. “What the fuck!” As the two young women moved up to the stage, I leaned on the stage and took up as much room as possible. This was bullshit. More young, attractive, mostly blonde women moved into our midst. I was pissed until the the opening notes of “The Chain” signaled the concert had started.<br />Screw it. I turned to the stage and the magic began.<br /><br />FLEETWOOD MAC<br />How do you describe an experience that is so personal and electric that you just want to keep it to yourself and relive it every so often by playing the music and dancing in your living room?<br />I can tell you this: <br />“The Chain” is the only way to start a Fleetwood Mac concert. It starts slowly and builds. The words perfectly describe the group and its members’ connections.<br />Even though Christine was back and the crowd demonstrated its excitement for her, Lindsey and Stevie owned the stage. Lindsey played like he was never going to play again. Phenomenal guitar.<br /> </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8OU-QXjF0_1VTc0cHzFv_r0idIq3sfBrYO84gxUR_aq7r8WbNqVY7GyPcfCtFxgi9jigmf-HB-L50TTYe_E267IdO_RFn5mUZfaQ32Lw2Qa9NsE6PiqVsTyFCMvT5nR5qkyIyWErGq6A/s1600/Lindsey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8OU-QXjF0_1VTc0cHzFv_r0idIq3sfBrYO84gxUR_aq7r8WbNqVY7GyPcfCtFxgi9jigmf-HB-L50TTYe_E267IdO_RFn5mUZfaQ32Lw2Qa9NsE6PiqVsTyFCMvT5nR5qkyIyWErGq6A/s1600/Lindsey.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDGLPcxfOGySsDtFDSneJ6hFzFOkGv9o0jzd2iZ7n0yvEvVzlDgiDKN5LXBNpb0gDyYH_s-SEqNpGLRYFKl5YngDaRGk-3h-ED1_EIozhlz0JEfNkS69pTiYL53hk3JzejjyshzkA_y5M/s1600/Stevie+&+Lindsey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDGLPcxfOGySsDtFDSneJ6hFzFOkGv9o0jzd2iZ7n0yvEvVzlDgiDKN5LXBNpb0gDyYH_s-SEqNpGLRYFKl5YngDaRGk-3h-ED1_EIozhlz0JEfNkS69pTiYL53hk3JzejjyshzkA_y5M/s1600/Stevie+&+Lindsey.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Stevie wasn’t going to let </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Christine steal her spotlight and rocked it for “Gypsy” and “Gold Dust Woman.” She moved more than I’d ever seen her move. Even on those six inch heeled boots. The setlist showed all the individual members' strengths. The music made me forget the young shrieking women next to me. The music made us all one and if Lindsey needs young blondes to spur him on, so be it. He was sweating buckets and rippin’ it. I honestly don’t know how musicians do it night after night. <br /><br />Once again, there was a frostiness between Stevie and Lindsey, and he was all charming and sweet to Christine. Maybe I’m reading into the body language, but when Christine, Lindsey and Stevie came out together for the first encore, Christine broke away and Lindsey and Stevie walked onto the mid-stage holding hands, but it wasn’t warm and he turned away from her way too soon.<br /><br />My one small experience:<br />When Lindsey first approached his mic, he looked exhausted. For a moment, he looked around, caught my eye, and I lifted the corners of my mouth with my index fingers in a smile. He smiled back and then laughed. <br />I’m always helpful.<br /><br />Since all the videos I shot are larger than the limit I can post here, I will put them on my Facebook page periodically.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4OEWU2dYx7HOCplZ-UwqjkCZqPt4IznuK_8ggI3P7lnxvzwyB5YW2GfqQCmvlzaaYQss5hzR50-Y-JVQPVnKMZ3VkaQqY9vnFupiN0aZjNpNURUB2vWvSxZ1Toq8GOvVyslOS-XfMZuM/s1600/End+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>And here's to you making a dream come true.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">TIPS FOR A CONCERT & VIPs:<br />Bring water. You’ll be hours near the stage and in the arena.<br />VIP lanyards, even with Mick’s photo on them, will not give you entry to anything. Keep your ticket handy at all times. You’ll be checked constantly, especially in and out of the VIP area.<br />Don’t assume that cell phones will connect you with anyone you’re meeting. It’s sometimes impossible to hear your phone over the din and roar.<br />Do NOT put your things under your seat. Mine were almost ruined. People put plastic cups of beer on the floor and then kick them over. My jacket was almost ruined. <br /><br />Thanks for reliving the concert with me.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Val</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">All photos Copyright Valerie J. Brooks</span></span></span>Valerie Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03974801169865595635noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971026925134956743.post-18534881376978401092014-11-30T12:17:00.002-08:002014-11-30T12:17:31.663-08:00A THREESOME: Much Gratitude, Random Literary Fun, and Giveaways<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Welcome back, Posse!<br /><br />A massive, heart-felt thank you for hanging in there with me. I so love you and appreciate you. To celebrate the return of my blog, I’m making this post about you and dishing up a three-count fun adventure.<br /><br />First, a flashback: I left off blogging in order to concentrate on writing my novel. I did finish, and I’m into the next phase of working toward publication. I’ve also taken on writer clients, am working on novel two in the STEALING PARIS series, and am writing a memoir. More about all that in a later post.<br /><br />For now, however, let’s start with you. Call it an antidote to fear-inducing news and relief from holiday shopping, daily pressures, and technology's over-stimulation.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Fun Fact—Hilary Mantel on Morphine</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Hilary Mantel, author of <i>Wolf Hall</i> and <i>Bring Up the Bodies,</i> recently admitted to writing her latest, <i>The Assassination of Margaret Thatcher</i>, on morphine. No, it wasn’t an experiment. She was in the hospital receiving treatment for endometriosis. She must have liked the morphine, however. Click on <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/books/10791462/Hilary-Mantel-reveals-morphine-helped-inspire-forthcoming-Thatcher-stories.html" target="_blank">THIS LINK</a> for the whole story.<br /> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">A little Hilary Mantel advice I love:</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b>Who are You?</b></span><br /><br />You may have already taken this personality test, but for those who haven’t, find out which <b>classic literary character</b> you are by clicking on <a href="http://www.zimbio.com/quiz/K3iKcn_Ys0x/Classic+Literature+Character" target="_blank">THIS LINK</a>.<br /> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">This is my classic literary character. I'm honored! </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b>— Two Giveaways —</b></span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">P. D. James</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nadine Gordimer</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />To celebrate the lives and works of two of my favorite writers, Nadine Gordimer & P. D. James, who both passed away this year, I’m giving away 1) Nadine Gordimer’s <i>Life Times: stories, 1952-2007</i> and 2) <i>The Detection Collection</i>, an anthology of British mystery writers that includes P. D. James. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlO4m29pxWnRRt6R7_iEItYb-rA8o1za5pK3bxFIl8hzVf6wrbw5ENynUshBWxKVCJwAIBilTaIsP_9C7s7f21VxhQqLxKxUHrcuw1CADn_OwDU2RNYU9CYm6S1fbnv9RQqkSDxC3M-zw/s1600/Detection+Collection.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlO4m29pxWnRRt6R7_iEItYb-rA8o1za5pK3bxFIl8hzVf6wrbw5ENynUshBWxKVCJwAIBilTaIsP_9C7s7f21VxhQqLxKxUHrcuw1CADn_OwDU2RNYU9CYm6S1fbnv9RQqkSDxC3M-zw/s1600/Detection+Collection.jpg" height="320" width="195" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">To enter to win: <br /><br />1) leave a comment on this post with a suggestion of what you’d like to see on my blog. More about my writing projects? My dreams and nightmares? (My husband says, “Don’t go there!”) Jokes? (No, I’m English and French; we’re not known for our humor.) Observations about life in general? Recommended reads? Photos that have something to do with my new novel? Places where I write? Places I set my novels? Interesting, obscure, fascinating, crazy facts about writers, artists and musicians I love? Memoir pieces? <br /><br />2) at the end of your comment, put NG for Gordimer’s book or PD for James’ collection.<br /><br />I will randomly select a name from the posts that are left on this blog and post the winners in the comments and on my next blog post.<br /><br />Again, thanks for sticking with me. You’re the best!<br /><br />In the meantime:<br />Let yourself breathe. Listen to music. Laugh.<br />Love,<br /><i>Valerie</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Upcoming post:</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The Concert VIP Experience—What It’s <i>Really</i> Like<br />Rocking Out with Fleetwood Mac</span></span></span></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCOZ6BZbs2mpbJFSHwRBxVCqyR4Io4NMpEX4NPKID0YrY8P2KTU9m8qWcP1tRONFFtAMo-NzRUJYeMmpQVwLmdoqe4jS-5mj_7_IKmOA768cm-8c1yQy8yMQbyKVdumCgBr57gx3V_IPo/s1600/IMG_2236.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCOZ6BZbs2mpbJFSHwRBxVCqyR4Io4NMpEX4NPKID0YrY8P2KTU9m8qWcP1tRONFFtAMo-NzRUJYeMmpQVwLmdoqe4jS-5mj_7_IKmOA768cm-8c1yQy8yMQbyKVdumCgBr57gx3V_IPo/s1600/IMG_2236.JPG" height="313" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and Mick Fleetwood, FM's amazing drummer</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">If for some reason your comment won't post, email me at ValinParis@earthlink.net</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>Valerie Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03974801169865595635noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971026925134956743.post-41973540789813206722013-01-29T08:03:00.000-08:002014-07-21T11:29:20.038-07:00My Disappearance<style>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I have always disappeared in one way or another. The
history’s there; I just had to write this blog to discover it and understand why. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">My family lived in New Hampshire in a small ranch house
across the street from Lake Winnisquam. I shared a bedroom with my sister who
is six years younger. My brother, two years younger had his own room. The walls
were thin, the commotion pretty constant, and finding privacy almost
impossible. Dad used to tease me about spending so much time in the bathroom,
the only room where no one barged in or bothered me unless it was an emergency.
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I first disappeared into a typical pre-teen refuge,
burrowing down after bedtime under my blanket where I would read or write in my
diary by penlight with one ear bud plugged into my transistor radio. Even
though I had school the next day I would stay up until one or two in the
morning, leaving my parents dumbfounded as to why, when in the morning, I was
so miserable to get out of bed. Sometimes my dad resorted to pulling the pillow
out from under my head and yanking back the covers. One time he sprinkled my
face with cold water. </span><span style="font-size: large;">My escape was discovered one night when I fell asleep, the transistor radio cord unplugged, and rock-‘n’-roll woke my parents.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr1h9uvANkGcXzBuoIiSLcavHxaJThhOU_O4icE60cxFJVjVkKi7e4NzXucqmFpTLMy_FuLLfNpFkJa75X-6Mko9io4HIaZg3wpO4wWXY1Fk8P9WCoa10eZc2MHC6RjhBpCx9h4J2TIiM/s1600/th-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr1h9uvANkGcXzBuoIiSLcavHxaJThhOU_O4icE60cxFJVjVkKi7e4NzXucqmFpTLMy_FuLLfNpFkJa75X-6Mko9io4HIaZg3wpO4wWXY1Fk8P9WCoa10eZc2MHC6RjhBpCx9h4J2TIiM/s200/th-4.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">That was around the time the Beatles took over my life and I
soon disappeared into a fantasy world with three other friends. We formed a
secret club, each of us becoming “the bird” of our favorite Beatle and writing
stories about our “luv” and then exchanging them. That only lasted until one of
the <span style="font-size: large;">parents</span> caught Ringo’s bird passing a rather risqué story to John’s bird. We <span style="font-size: large;">had to disband.</span> After that, I didn’t dare write stories.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Next, I disappeared into my diary, filling it with a teenage
angst pot of longing for love and someone to understand me, a place to help me
figure out what to do with classmate troubles and old-fashioned, strict parents.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Then the summer after turning fourteen, I wrote in my diary
that I’d fallen in love.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZQWEWR5oj8ILpUDQ3AtFPidlAJM7XcB0FgfBba6i04Y44NBiVPertDI_1Lt5Uk-Lfn90lHYdyRSj7g1cEh7AMlgSLhTCI6WAiIKsFOrHobhXCeKFXc0gW4WUfcgPwRnLG85hYcnXoBwo/s1600/th-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZQWEWR5oj8ILpUDQ3AtFPidlAJM7XcB0FgfBba6i04Y44NBiVPertDI_1Lt5Uk-Lfn90lHYdyRSj7g1cEh7AMlgSLhTCI6WAiIKsFOrHobhXCeKFXc0gW4WUfcgPwRnLG85hYcnXoBwo/s400/th-3.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Because we lived on the opposite side of the road from the lake,
we had to use the right-of-way at the west end to go swimming. That summer I
met and fell for a boy from Boston who was there with his family vacationing in
one of the summer cabins. His name was Bruce, but his cousin called him “Punk,”
as I would. To my astonishment
this handsome lad liked me. I kept him a secret as my dad thought all boys from
Boston were “bad seeds.” Punk and I would meet and hang out at the right-of-way
during the day and a few times we met in the evening to be alone. I wore peddle-pushers
and a mod satin shirt with puff sleeves and twenty-five tiny buttons down the
front. I wasn’t ready for the heavy petting. I only wanted to kiss him, and
those buttons kept me safe.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">After Punk returned to Boston without conquering that blouse,
a few letters followed, but soon my first love faded away. My parents never saw
the letters as I brought in the mail every day, so I was safe from discovery,
or so I thought.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">One night at dinner, Dad asked about the boy from Boston.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I can’t remember what I said, but I must have asked him how
he knew, and he said, “You shouldn’t leave your diary out and open on your
desk.”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I waited for some kind of punishment while I went from fear
of discovery (Oh, my god, what had I written? What had he read?) to anger at
this breach of my privacy. (What gave him the right to read my diary? And how
could it have been open on my desk? I always lock it and hide it away.)</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I don’t know what happened to that diary. I wish I had it
now. After that, I only wrote notes to my girlfriends, poems, and school
reports. For my escape, I started drawing and painting instead.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">When the fights with my dad increased, I would retreat to
the right-of-way and sit under the old tree where Punk and I made out. The
roots that protruded above ground held me between them and I would lose myself
in the cry of loons, the twinkle of lights from cabins across the lake, the smell of bar<span style="font-size: large;">-b-ques,</span> and the
accompanying laughter and voices of other families that drifted to me over the
water’s dark surface. I often took a book and could stay there for hours.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTrdp-HETki2GEJRVG8wB2vYLQu_v_D344uDKlaGol3B6_51SSd9dlcrzB-x1SjKZn0yDh6pr55sbN9J8pBJVzjZ8sSmwpdyWogFmClLQoQFt5sXdI55a22YNwY-6dWxFI1brdLePFt78/s1600/th.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTrdp-HETki2GEJRVG8wB2vYLQu_v_D344uDKlaGol3B6_51SSd9dlcrzB-x1SjKZn0yDh6pr55sbN9J8pBJVzjZ8sSmwpdyWogFmClLQoQFt5sXdI55a22YNwY-6dWxFI1brdLePFt78/s1600/th.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">The day after my father committed suicide, I disappeared to
the right-of-way, scaring my mother. But that house was too chaotic
and filled with confusion, shame and grief. I needed to be alone, to cry, to settle
my head, body and soul so I could return and carry on, although my heart would
be damaged for a long time.
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Life continued and changed many times, and so did my reason
for and avenue of disappearing. Whenever life became too noisy and stressful,
whenever I needed to escape trying times—the fear of moving to a new land
three-thousand miles from home, the loneliness of being that far away with a
three year old, divorcing an abusive first husband, the craziness of an
out-of-control seventies and drug culture—I would lock the door of my house,
hang up a do not disturb sign and paint or draw while listening to music. For
days, I would do this, often having to tell those who stopped by, “Yes, sorry, that
sign does mean you,” even when it was a new friend.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">And here in the writing of this blog is where a memory brought an
epiphany. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXpZaST7tDC_qVKyKGb-hIKAGuyGoBCJfR6NxqUl_wrZOcq5OuVWjDd6eoAjtlZqtX3MnGG3gfeLqUVTExrUkc38tWeXfYK1iZDnegP5FCvlWi6dGlQg8q7quGB_9IhCHZmi-QtQDJCSY/s1600/th-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXpZaST7tDC_qVKyKGb-hIKAGuyGoBCJfR6NxqUl_wrZOcq5OuVWjDd6eoAjtlZqtX3MnGG3gfeLqUVTExrUkc38tWeXfYK1iZDnegP5FCvlWi6dGlQg8q7quGB_9IhCHZmi-QtQDJCSY/s320/th-1.jpg" height="320" width="295" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Kippy, a blue and green parakeet, was my first pet. I think
I was around ten or eleven. He’d ride on my shoulder, poop on my cousin’s
blonde flattop, repeat a whistle I taught him, and generally make everyone
laugh. I fed him regularly, cleaned out his cage, did my best, which I admit,
being a kid, probably wasn’t up to<span style="font-size: large;"> adult </span>standards.
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">One day, after school, either my mom or dad forgot to bring
home birdseed. Knowing that kids often don’t give their parents enough
heads<span style="font-size: large;">-</span>up time about these things, I probably waited until the last minute to
tell them I needed birdseed.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I walked to the local market and bought wild birdseed, the only kind they had. Just before dinner, as mom was
cooking and dad was reading the paper at the kitchen table, Kippy started to
choke. I took him from his cage. A sunflower seed was caught in his
throat. I yelled for my mom and dad, raced to the kitchen with him in my hands,
crying, as I watched my bird struggling and falling down. Mom continued to cook, dad read his paper. They
looked over, but by the time they responded, Kippy was dead. I think I remember someone saying, "It was only a bird." Maybe not, but I heard it in my heart.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Something lodged in me that day, something that equates with how it feels to have something dying in me. I tried to feed my parakeet so it wouldn't starve, and I had the wrong food, so Kippy died. No one from the outside helped. And that’s what brought
me to this conclusion as to why I disappear.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I believe that when creative people are
threatened with the outcome of being a “starving artist,” it’s a way to
discourage us from taking hold of our creative life. (My dad: “You are not going to be
a starving artist; you will go to college to be a teacher, nurse or secretary.”)
If you’re not being productive in the traditional sense, when you’re seen as
selfish or self indulgent because you want to follow your art, your passion,
then you<span style="font-size: large;">'</span>re gifted a sense of guilt. </span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">The real threat, however, is being starved of time, freedom
and the opportunity to create. The real threat is not taking care of our true
selves. The real threat is listening to that inner “guilt pusher” that says you
<i>should</i> be doing something else.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">In the past six months I have cracked a rib, had oral
surgery, <span style="font-size: large;">helped </span>plan a big party for my mom’s 90<sup>th</sup>
birthday, gone to that party in <span style="font-size: large;">Flo<span style="font-size: large;">rida, </span></span>returned home to the worst sinus infection I’d ever had, and during
this time I had to make a decision: while I healed from these various h<span style="font-size: large;">ealth issues, I could </span>concentrate on writing my novel or
continue to take time from that writing and<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>blog.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I took care of myself. I met with a few friends, but stayed home
most of the time and was as quiet as I could be as I worked on my novel. I had breakthroughs. I had a-ha moments. I held myself in my hands and
removed that sunflower seed. I fed myself the right food.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">And the irony was, when I tried to blog in November,
the universe slapped me silly. My blog feed would not work. No
matter what I did, I could not get Feedburner to send to my email recipients. I didn't need a clearer message. I went back to work on my novel.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Since then, life has allowed a little time, and I switched my blog email feed to a reliable one. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Hopefully, for those of you out there who have had a rough time lately—and I’ve
read and heard many of your stories—I hope this brings some kind of epiphany
for you, too. Even if you are not an artist or writer, you have a creative
soul. We all do. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiOw9ab_6p86U4QAmI7Oinnecg_pqinOZDfSYmDCejG9V4LX5yX-36OJEIQ6SYeBL06gW3dlGnpRuLczjG7dws3Bfm-tmYE_2ei497z6ZsBBAPau9P8505XsF5vEFHYLmzi9VotI_9-k0/s1600/th.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiOw9ab_6p86U4QAmI7Oinnecg_pqinOZDfSYmDCejG9V4LX5yX-36OJEIQ6SYeBL06gW3dlGnpRuLczjG7dws3Bfm-tmYE_2ei497z6ZsBBAPau9P8505XsF5vEFHYLmzi9VotI_9-k0/s1600/th.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Last year in January, astrologer Johanna Mitchell said about
2012, “<span class="usercontent">It's
a great year if you’re going to change. It’s not such a good year if you can’t
find inspiration in chaos.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="usercontent">My discovery makes me wonder if others out there have found
themselves “disappearing,” or retreating, or whatever name you put on it. I
wonder if you found your creative soul or true north in all that chaos and if
you took the time to feed what was starving. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So much of our time is spent in trying to figure out what to
do when we really know all along what we need; for some reason it seems counter-intuitive
to care for ourselves. That’s when I go back to the context of “starving
artist.” It all depends on who you’re listening to.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Hugs to all,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Val</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Other blog posts that you might enjoy:</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://warriorwriters.wordpress.com/2013/01/24/enemies-of-the-art-part-2-psychic-vampires/" target="_blank"><b><span style="font-size: small;">Enemies of the Art Part II--Psychic Vampires</span></b></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Kristen Lam<span style="font-size: small;">b's Blog</span></span></span></div>
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<b><a href="http://blog.liviablackburne.com/2011/07/author-blogging-youre-doing-it-wrong.html" target="_blank"><br /></a></b>
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<b><a href="http://blog.liviablackburne.com/2011/07/author-blogging-youre-doing-it-wrong.html" target="_blank">A Brain Scientist's Take on Writing</a></b> </div>
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"Author Blogging: You're Doing It Wrong"</div>
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<i>I think blogging is a wast of time.</i></div>
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<b><a href="http://procrastinatingwritersblog.com/2009/11/get-rid-of-should-once-and-for-all/" target="_blank">Procrastinating Writers</a></b></div>
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"Get Rid of "Should" Once and for All"<b> </b></div>
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<a href="https://theintrinsicwriter.wordpress.com/2013/01/11/they-call-me-the-wanderer-a-letter-to-my-readers/" target="_blank"><b>The Intrinsic Writer</b></a></div>
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"They Call Me the Wanderer"</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUwLiLKgTAbKiP_qf61NAM37jut4VDf2o8cES4PcKUXchhODNIDSmKssn15Lw-yit1UneBeMfbyccOqFuLhRxWQoHPG220pzZh7cLlX8ju44xBjO2Sjf1axMuGRUanZRnghyFgRdvq43Y/s1600/The+wanderer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUwLiLKgTAbKiP_qf61NAM37jut4VDf2o8cES4PcKUXchhODNIDSmKssn15Lw-yit1UneBeMfbyccOqFuLhRxWQoHPG220pzZh7cLlX8ju44xBjO2Sjf1axMuGRUanZRnghyFgRdvq43Y/s200/The+wanderer.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-weight: bold;">If your comment
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Valerie Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03974801169865595635noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971026925134956743.post-59188803041818973552012-10-23T11:23:00.000-07:002012-10-23T11:23:38.603-07:00What the Heck? My Latest Blog--AgainMy last blog seems to have gone ... astray.<br />
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Not really. I posted last week. Unfortunately, I've been hearing from my subscribers who receive my blog via email that they didn't receive it. And d'oh, I didn't get mine in my email box either. What seems to be the problem? The Feedburner tool OR me. Maybe my blog was too large to send. I am a big girl. I do have a lot of content.<br />
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Feedburner won't let me send the same blog post twice, so for a quick fix while I spend time trying to fix the dang thing, here's a link to my last blog post when I introduced Cheryl Strayed, our NW powerhouse and NYTimes bestseller of <i>Wild</i>, at her event in Eugene, Oregon. The intro is me as cheerleader and writer's advocate. It was a fabulous night.<br />
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<a href="http://gobsmackedwriter.blogspot.com/2012/10/cheryl-strayed-at-uo-and-my-intro-for.html" target="_blank">Click here for the LINK to my post. </a><br />
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More later! And let me know, dear subscribers, if Feedburner delivered. If not, a change is coming!<br />
hugs,<br />
Val<br />
Valerie Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03974801169865595635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971026925134956743.post-38259612030877811352012-10-17T00:31:00.000-07:002012-10-22T21:42:19.753-07:00Cheryl Strayed at the UO and My Intro for her Event<style>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes life as a writer can't be topped. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This past week, I was fortunate to be asked by Laura White <span style="font-size: large;">from</span> the Univer<span style="font-size: large;">sity of Oregon Duckstore to introduce Cheryl Strayed <span style="font-size: large;">at her event<span style="font-size: large;"> in Eugene</span> last Wednesday night. I've known <span style="font-size: large;">Cheryl</span> since 2006 and<span style="font-size: large;">,</span> in an earlier post<span style="font-size: large;"> that you can read <a href="http://gobsmackedwriter.blogspot.com/2012/02/confession.html" target="_blank">here</a>, <span style="font-size: large;">Cheryl gave me the courage to dig <span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">to the <span style="font-size: large;">deepest part</span></span> of my writer's heart. Once I was there, I was able to write <span style="font-size: large;">another <span style="font-size: large;">post<span style="font-size: large;">, <a href="http://gobsmackedwriter.blogspot.com/2012/04/day-my-dad-died.html" target="_blank">"The Day My Dad Died,"</a></span></span> that <span style="font-size: large;">started</span> <span style="font-size: large;">a</span> memoir.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Cheryl's event Wednesday night <span style="font-size: large;">showed her ability to <span style="font-size: large;">captivate a<span style="font-size: large;">n audience, swinging them from laughter to tears and back. She read from both books, her memoir <i>Wild</i> and a collection of her <span style="font-size: large;">favorite</span> Sugar columns<span style="font-size: large;">,</span> <i>Tiny </i><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Beautiful Things</i>. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ_KCMYhSAzDWFOKjNrPmJVTehyphenhyphentgnJ2rQqGuZC2pmbee320zCp30Q8N5IXDJJtehH0SS0V_qbiotSU7s3Av4YN20qO2W87OvCO2uMbMQHFKhzIwbU3BS7bAYg7aMCAuQ4n0Gt9ZaneUw/s1600/Cheryl+signing+books.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ_KCMYhSAzDWFOKjNrPmJVTehyphenhyphentgnJ2rQqGuZC2pmbee320zCp30Q8N5IXDJJtehH0SS0V_qbiotSU7s3Av4YN20qO2W87OvCO2uMbMQHFKhzIwbU3BS7bAYg7aMCAuQ4n0Gt9ZaneUw/s320/Cheryl+signing+books.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">It's taken <span style="font-size: large;">a week</span> to post because I had one day <span style="font-size: large;">after the event to prepare and pack for a week away from home: <span style="font-size: large;">the weekend to attend <span style="font-size: large;">Wordstock, Portland's brilliant book festiv<span style="font-size: large;">al, and a we<span style="font-size: large;">ek of writing at Colonyhouse with <span style="font-size: large;">three of my posse.</span> <span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">All I can say is<span style="font-size: large;">, "I'm in<span style="font-size: large;"> heave</span></span>n."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQxRr5MSa9Q4Vw0yhTIGsKdpbbkzXKNsuPi18W4SL0Suve8ql8YdYEcbhdF46xiO4b3-yjhss-LpUhONPImrGRUjFg5MQvsKMFn72mvme7xWR2FbyBWq08zCap0857DkY_a2LDcyUOXRY/s1600/Having+fun+with+Jan.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQxRr5MSa9Q4Vw0yhTIGsKdpbbkzXKNsuPi18W4SL0Suve8ql8YdYEcbhdF46xiO4b3-yjhss-LpUhONPImrGRUjFg5MQvsKMFn72mvme7xWR2FbyBWq08zCap0857DkY_a2LDcyUOXRY/s320/Having+fun+with+Jan.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and best pal Jan Eliot</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoQCeL2o-Q5PStsxZwY6t1OgDlf_21iCcrZJFgfs_bhNEG1b5HPlYRuymvl6K7ytDqljtVVNWwt6Q0tvRcGIzb4goj2GB0iu2axua2iKAwmpieGjlc7ioLp0tpb_V7xUgJ3qaXmnFjC5A/s1600/Jan+and+Cheryl.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoQCeL2o-Q5PStsxZwY6t1OgDlf_21iCcrZJFgfs_bhNEG1b5HPlYRuymvl6K7ytDqljtVVNWwt6Q0tvRcGIzb4goj2GB0iu2axua2iKAwmpieGjlc7ioLp0tpb_V7xUgJ3qaXmnFjC5A/s320/Jan+and+Cheryl.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jan talking with Cheryl</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">I decided to shar<span style="font-size: large;">e</span> <span style="font-size: large;">the </span>introduction I <span style="font-size: large;">gave W<span style="font-size: large;">ednesday night for t<span style="font-size: large;">hree</span> reasons: 1) <span style="font-size: large;">to let <span style="font-size: large;">you<span style="font-size: large;"> know that<span style="font-size: large;">, even though the event sold out, <span style="font-size: large;">the UO Library has a video recording of the evening, 2) I felt the intro would be en<span style="font-size: large;">couraging to writers, and 3)<span style="font-size: large;"> readers<span style="font-size: large;"> will</span> learn a few things about Cheryl that I'm pretty sure aren't out ther<span style="font-size: large;">e on the internet.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">A special thanks </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">to Kirsten Steen for taking the photos<span style="font-size: large;"> and t<span style="font-size: large;">o</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Laura White who did, and always does, a superb job at <span style="font-size: large;">organizing <span style="font-size: large;">author</span> events<span style="font-size: large;"> a</span>nd does it with infectious enthusiasm<span style="font-size: large;">.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">(Bonus: If you read to the end, I <span style="font-size: large;">give</span> an<span style="font-size: large;"> inside de<span style="font-size: large;">tail <span style="font-size: large;">about</span> Cheryl's f<span style="font-size: large;">ashion for the evening.</span></span>)</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEHwwMm7aAlyzkMLLe164TK_5sRI7fOIOauKCQ9nWfbOrHPBV8ZQWEFWbzmjCr4CEvxipVw0X5LSImLYGwV82pBJMfdmFMX0p86mziloiJqlOIBlHclvugFQCGH47_Jj1n_4kU4CfkIW4/s1600/Cheryl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEHwwMm7aAlyzkMLLe164TK_5sRI7fOIOauKCQ9nWfbOrHPBV8ZQWEFWbzmjCr4CEvxipVw0X5LSImLYGwV82pBJMfdmFMX0p86mziloiJqlOIBlHclvugFQCGH47_Jj1n_4kU4CfkIW4/s400/Cheryl.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Introduction for <span style="font-size: large;">Cheryl Strayed</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">UO Bookstore Event</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">7</span>:00 pm, Oct. 10, 2012</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When Laura asked me to
introduced Cheryl, I thought, <i>What an
honor<span style="font-size: large;">.</span> And this will be easy.</i></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">An honor, yes. The easy part?
Not so much. How do you introduce a literary rock star, especially Cheryl, who
really needs no introduction?</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Do I focus on the theme of
grief, how Cheryl was a perfect example of the dual nature of grief where one
wants to feel nothing because one feels too much. And what do you do to get
past that? Or do I focus on her anonymous life as Sugar on <i>The Rumpus</i>, an unpaid gig, btw? How she used private stories to
help others, showered her advice seekers with love, empathy, “honey buns” and “sweet
peas?”</span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">No, I didn’t need to tackle
either of those because all you have to do is read <i>Wild </i>or <i>Tiny Beautiful Things</i>
to immerse yourself in her overarching theme. </span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">She’ll tell you this: “The
unifying theme is resilience and faith. The unifying theme is being a warrior
and a motherfucker. It’s not fragility. It’s strength. It’s nerve.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Yes, that’s all there. But to
me, her work, her life’s theme, is love. It takes strength and nerve to keep
love as a theme. It takes resilience and faith to champion love. In her work, I
see love as the motivation, conflict, struggle, journey, epiphany, and
resolution, whether it’s love for a dead mom, love for herself, or love for
those poor struggling, terrified, advice seekers. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So what do I say about Cheryl,
especially now that she’s a literary super star and you know everything about
her? When she’s in the phase of her life where she’s known as “Sugar,” “Oprah’s
Pick,” or “a New York Times bestseller?” Amazing, the distance she’s traveled,
both literally and figuratively.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">In fact, when I met her in
2006 when she and a close friend of mine Randy Sue Coburn appeared at UO
bookstore for a reading from their novels, approximately 25 people attended.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Oh, how <i>some</i> things have changed.</span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Many of you have probably followed
Cheryl since Wild was published, what with the accompanying media blitz of articles,
appearances, and interviews. The media has treated her as a literary darling and
delved into the minutiae of her life as all celebrities are treated. We want to
know what Cheryl eats for breakfast or how she copes with fame or, for example,
what she packs around now. Is she still a Monster-carrying traveler in all her trips
for promoting her books? We love our authors. We love our celebrities. We want
to know them on a personal level.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Unfortunately, the media also
likes to create buzz by sensationalizing stories. We are not naïve. We know
they do this. But as writers we are sensitive to word choice, and that gave me my
moment, the answer to how to introduce Cheryl.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Oh, yes, how <i>some</i> things have changed for her.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">According to some media, Cheryl’s
an “overnight sensation.” She’s also been referred to as “an unknown writer” who
“came out of nowhere.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Well, let’s clear this up
right now. Many of you are UO students, some with dreams of becoming an author.
Don’t fall for the idea that you can become an overnight sensation by being a
writer. I know that our microwave culture sells us on the idea of now, fast,
riches, fame, celebrity. But that isn’t the heart and soul of being a writer. We
all come from a place where we seed ourselves in the soil of a literary community,
grow with nourishment from other writers, and are tended by our families. We
produce—a book, an essay, an article, a blog, a chapbook—and we keep steadily growing.
</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Cheryl recently posted about
being referred to as a writer who “came out of nowhere”:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;">I bristle
at this narrative not so much on my own behalf, but rather on behalf of the
many writers I love, admire, respect and read. There is a strong and vibrant
literary culture that exists and thrives in this nation and it does not exist
in a place called nowhere, whether you know about it or not. It's the place
where the writers work.</span></b></span></div>
</blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;"></span></b>She may not bristle at this
on her own behalf, but I do. Cheryl is sensational, but no overnight sensation.
She’s never been an unknown writer. Just ask her lifelong friends, her writing
group, her husband, Brian. The “nowhere” where she lives is a thriving little
town called Portland.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The reality is, she started
early and worked her tail off—or should I say toenails.</span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">She didn’t just walk the
Pacific Crest Trail, stop at a bridge, eat an ice cream cone, and write a book.
She’s been on the long arduous, amazing, eye-opening, toe-bleeding writer’s trail
since she was a kid. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As Cheryl says, her success
is built on a million smaller successes. Cheryl began writing stories at age
seven and never stopped. Her first real short story was called “Murder on the Midnight
Express” and featured a talking parrot named Poncho.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">She earned a Bachelor’s
Degree in English and women’s studies from the U of Minnesota, and afterwards
worked various jobs and wrote on the side. She earned her MFA in fiction
writing at Syracuse University in 2002. In 2003 her short story “Good” was
selected by Joyce Carol Oates for inclusion in <i>The Best American Voices 2003.</i> Her personal essays, “Heroin/e” and
“The Love of My Life,” were both selected for inclusion in the prestigious <i>Best American Essays </i>collections in 2000
and 2003 respectively. Other short works were published in <i>The Washington Post Magazine, Vogue, The Missouri Review,</i> <i>New York Times Magazine, Allure, </i>and <i>The Sun.</i> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">She won a Pushcart Prize for her
essay “Munro Country.”</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Her first novel <i>Torch</i> was published in 2006. That was
the year I met Cheryl here at the UO bookstore.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Her unpaid career as Sugar, the
anonymous <i>Rumpus </i>advice columnist,
began in March 2010. Cheryl came out as Sugar this year on Valentine’s Day.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">In June of this year, <i>Wild </i>was chosen as the inaugural
selection for Oprah’s Book Club 2.0. Reese Witherspoon optioned <i>Wild</i> for her company Pacific Standard.
Lisa Cholodenko is slated to write and direct the film with Witherspoon to
star.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">On Sept. 17, Cheryl’s 44<sup>th</sup>
birthday, she finally paid off her student loan debt.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Please welcome Cheryl
Strayed<span style="font-size: large;">.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLZv7utAbOZs40GjPC2Yaf4SEQ5bPs2NC7jgH2QFPnGgHpCKtbfNu9Npu6Q6J36nYw6WP7ku7ig0QqMUkRz5DTmDa9QRpIkjj1U5CyM3ChP4dHffie6k3glKJdIur0H1FpxO00TRfjmPU/s1600/Cheryl+reading.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLZv7utAbOZs40GjPC2Yaf4SEQ5bPs2NC7jgH2QFPnGgHpCKtbfNu9Npu6Q6J36nYw6WP7ku7ig0QqMUkRz5DTmDa9QRpIkjj1U5CyM3ChP4dHffie6k3glKJdIur0H1FpxO00TRfjmPU/s320/Cheryl+reading.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">If you've been patient (or cheated and skipped ahead), <span style="font-size: large;">I'll tell you<span style="font-size: large;"> what Cheryl was wearing <span style="font-size: large;">on her feet that night<span style="font-size: large;">:</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Black Harley Davidson </span></span></span></span></span>boots. Yup. The <span style="font-size: large;">girl keeps her edge.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">And my favorite photo<span style="font-size: large;"> ta<span style="font-size: large;">ken by Jan Eliot</span>. How can I <i>not</i> love this.</span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiegKIFSBM1Uj-q4FpHcvLp5cEtEfg8gFqgtgFSBBz1hPLe53KSHBCcm9f5cDZ4WaKTlBcxqKbVnrHpkxh0iOTkOqRHefiE_VR-98lLNL7jmWMpVo5ozJ8bGN6pwn4wZZhjRe4-WrU5uu0/s1600/Cheryl+%2526+I.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiegKIFSBM1Uj-q4FpHcvLp5cEtEfg8gFqgtgFSBBz1hPLe53KSHBCcm9f5cDZ4WaKTlBcxqKbVnrHpkxh0iOTkOqRHefiE_VR-98lLNL7jmWMpVo5ozJ8bGN6pwn4wZZhjRe4-WrU5uu0/s200/Cheryl+%2526+I.JPG" width="173" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Be brave! Stay adventurous!</span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Hugs,</span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Val</span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;">COMING UP:</span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;"></span></b><span style="font-family: Times;"></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times;">W<span style="font-size: large;">ordstock Fun</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Where I Work: a photographic peek into my writing
spaces</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times;">A Confession: What happened after my six readers
responded to the Beta version of my novel</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span> </span></span> </span></span></div>
Valerie Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03974801169865595635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971026925134956743.post-74076189613884993422012-09-12T22:33:00.000-07:002012-09-13T08:34:28.959-07:00Fabulous Blog Ribbon<style>
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<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Thank you, Cheryl
Fassett, fellow blogger and writer extraordinaire, for honoring me with a <i>Fabulous Blog Ribbon</i>. After a mixed
summer of highs and lows, you made my entry to fall, my favorite season, a
grander one.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilybXDv-FvyBDTatcESMhuIOEegH11-Z9hXgnt4e9CY93jPM-XdTJCgUNlx4AOFC64nrgct0KFFAnmUCoAKQGv9YlsMEEsr7gbZEgn-FUsYUinG4s0HZa6zPu4_JnCC4tFk15kByBWCV4/s1600/fabulous-blog-ribbon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilybXDv-FvyBDTatcESMhuIOEegH11-Z9hXgnt4e9CY93jPM-XdTJCgUNlx4AOFC64nrgct0KFFAnmUCoAKQGv9YlsMEEsr7gbZEgn-FUsYUinG4s0HZa6zPu4_JnCC4tFk15kByBWCV4/s1600/fabulous-blog-ribbon.jpg" /></a></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Check out her blog <b><a href="http://cherylfassett.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Catching Fireflies</a> </b>where she captures
creativity, magic and inspiration.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I’m a little late thanking Cheryl due to a cracked rib. I
had no idea they hurt so much and could slow me down to half speed. But being
recognized by one of my favorite bloggers is enough to sprinkle fairy dust over
my writer’s world.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">For those unfamiliar with blog awards, they
come with a set of “rules,” but I would rather call them guidelines and give
out awards without asking for anything back, in this case answering questions
and passing the award to five fellow bloggers.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Call me conflicted, but sometimes these
things remind me of a chain letter when they’re actually meant to help bloggers
expand readership and feel good about the time and energy they put into their
blogs. I know what it takes to keep up a blog, keep up with life, and keep up
with other people's postings, and therefore I am reluctant to add one more “to do” to the
list of these extraordinary bloggers. I hope you visit their pages to see why I love them so much.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Here are the guidelines for receiving this <i>Fabulous Blog Ribbon</i>:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> 1. Thank the blogger who gave it to you and
share the link back to the awarding blog.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> 2. Name 5 fabulous moments in your life.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> 3. Name 5 things that you love.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> 4. Name 5 things you hate.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> 5. Pass the award to 5 deserving bloggers.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">So, without further ado…</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Five Fabulous Moments
in My Life</b></span></div>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"></span></span>The birth of my son, Jason</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"></span></span>Finding my sweetheart, Dan, and being with him for
36 years</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"></span></span>Discovering my life as a writer—over and over
and over again</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"></span></span>Being in Paris the first time</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"></span></span>Seeing Fleetwood Mac in concert for the first
time</span></li>
</ul>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><s>Five</s> Seven Things
I Love</b></span></div>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"></span></span>My friends and family, with all my heart</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"></span></span>Writing, writing, writing</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"></span></span>Paris</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"></span></span>Books by my favorite authors and discovering new
ones</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"></span></span>Music, mostly rock ‘n’ roll, jazz, funk, French
pop, folk</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"></span></span>Dancing</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"></span></span>Art in all forms</span></li>
</ul>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Five Things I Hate</b></span></div>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Crazymakers</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"></span></span>The word <i>hate</i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"></span></span>War</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"></span></span>Dishonesty and greed</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"></span></span>Not giving art & culture in our society and
government programs the recognition it deserves</span></li>
</ul>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Five Bloggers Who
Deserve a Fabulous Blog Ribbon*</b></span></div>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Barbara Sullivan for her extraordinary wisdom
and big heart in <a href="http://thesolaceofloweredexpectations.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"><b>The Solace of LoweredExpectations</b></a></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Kirsten Steen and her exquisite blog <b><a href="http://www.writeonthyme.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Write-on-Thyme</a> </b>for keeping me in touch
with our beloved Paris (plus having such gorgeous music on her blog, too!)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">New to the blogosphere in March, Karla Droste
with open heart and adventurous spirit takes us on her life-changing journey in
<a href="http://reinventingkarla.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><b>Re-inventing Karla</b></a></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://dianeprokop.com/" target="_blank"><b>DianeProkop</b></a> keeps my reading pile high, not just in height, but in the quality
of her book reviews and recommendations</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Supremely gifted artist and creative, <a href="http://robinpress.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><b>Beth I. Robinson</b></a>, who keeps me laughing
and gives me the gift of being inside the head of a working artist (p.s. check
out one of my favorite pieces of hers at her <a href="http://robinpress.com/artwork/2506331_The_Theory_of_Forms.html" target="_blank"><b>website</b></a>)</span></li>
</ul>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">* Ribbon recipients: please accept this
Fabulous Blog Ribbon, enjoy
freely, post the ribbon, know that I give this ribbon to you with no expectation
of you having to do anything more than enjoy it for all the hard work you put
into your blog.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">As for something to entertain you further, I offer this bit
of writerly eroticism:</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLN-wYinvr8KIWXJvXh3GsYuiMhaGw6xUm6dx_Kg7hMIAmA9wg99qQmkOu1OgP60QVRFZ6UXe1EWIysBX0PARY858B8NaS33TmCfMmd-VxH8ESya7DQ_eHoNb5VhKfZ46Hb4gmyPIXGrM/s1600/How+big+is+your+library.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLN-wYinvr8KIWXJvXh3GsYuiMhaGw6xUm6dx_Kg7hMIAmA9wg99qQmkOu1OgP60QVRFZ6UXe1EWIysBX0PARY858B8NaS33TmCfMmd-VxH8ESya7DQ_eHoNb5VhKfZ46Hb4gmyPIXGrM/s400/How+big+is+your+library.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Thanks for tuning in! </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">And yes, for those who asked, my cracked rib is healing
nicely. Thanks for being concerned!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Keep creativity in your heart and soul,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Val</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;">COMING UP:</span></b><span style="font-family: Times;"></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Where I Work: a photographic peek into my writing
spaces</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times;">A Confession: What happened after my six readers
responded to the Beta version of my novel</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Valerie Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03974801169865595635noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971026925134956743.post-11666509358651100982012-08-12T17:08:00.000-07:002012-08-12T17:08:36.715-07:00Part III – Managing Social Media: Val’s Tools & Hardcore Suggestions<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_TxBNJnodwkKOwfOLaqA9HBmp0QrqTrFH7Jya4yR4cCjFnygvhWWrp9CuPcfATEXI0tEskmAFVkYHoIsxWfnm3MARXtDYbuwtQUJr99dAoUPxHTxd0mwnChX3aH-ONSBtox6-A5r0-pI/s1600/3%25+and+97%25+pin+for+writers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_TxBNJnodwkKOwfOLaqA9HBmp0QrqTrFH7Jya4yR4cCjFnygvhWWrp9CuPcfATEXI0tEskmAFVkYHoIsxWfnm3MARXtDYbuwtQUJr99dAoUPxHTxd0mwnChX3aH-ONSBtox6-A5r0-pI/s1600/3%25+and+97%25+pin+for+writers.jpg" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Before I give you tips on how to:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">put a few tools in your
toolbox for fixing social media woes,</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">POST THIS TO YOUR
COMPUTER:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: "Marker Felt";">Do the Most
Important Thing First -</span></b></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: "Marker Felt";">WRITE</span></b><span style="font-family: "Marker Felt";"></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Good. Now, let me clear up where I stand on social media. I
am not against it. I’m on many social media sites. I’ve made some great friends
there and have also kept up with writer friends who are as busy as I am. Social
media is an important tool for connecting if used correctly. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">For writers, however, it can be, as I’ve said before, a time
suck. I hear more and more about writers and artists who can’t seem to manage
their time since joining social media sites. I don’t need to say more about
this. I hope, however, that the following tips and tools are helpful, and above
all keep you writing. That’s my only goal here: to keep you writing.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">In fact, this blog post is NOT about social media at all.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>It’s about creating time to write and putting writing first.</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Let’s get started with “Val’s Tool Kit”:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>My Portable Office Admin Assistant</b></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>#1 Tool in Val’s Tool Kit</b></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Do you
schedule your writing time? Why not? We schedule doctor’s appointments, kid’s
after school activities, our jobs, our vacations. Do you keep that all in your
head? No, you use a calendar.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>I have a
calendar that I call my “Administrative Assistant.” It makes me feel as if I
have a secretary and puts my writing into terms of “going to work,” making it
important.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Mine’s an
old-fashioned Day Timer-type calendar with my <b>writing time scheduled into it, weeks in advance</b>. That prevents me
from scheduling any other social events on that day. As a writer, I prefer
using the old fashioned type of calendar for a number of reasons. (I love my
iPhone, but its calendar is useless. I also have a house calendar for the rest
of my life.)</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMuR9v2C2Ck6i6NEaP6Q9MOXORJyrX0rAJeFwxcjVfI8_ytDIVGvo_tfmovLjbrHjD6jKxW-PaOmoV6XA45q_Y8Rs4CF2xPZcTNof8cAmYnisIflMgsMe7IZeHBMWnwbrRLPR3tCfnKmo/s1600/My+Admin+Assist.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMuR9v2C2Ck6i6NEaP6Q9MOXORJyrX0rAJeFwxcjVfI8_ytDIVGvo_tfmovLjbrHjD6jKxW-PaOmoV6XA45q_Y8Rs4CF2xPZcTNof8cAmYnisIflMgsMe7IZeHBMWnwbrRLPR3tCfnKmo/s640/My+Admin+Assist.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Check out
the photo above. That’s an actual week from my calendar. I’m a visual person,
so I created a simple visual method. I use a diagonal line for writing related
activities. Every Monday and Friday I write at our local Barnes and Noble Café.
(I’d love to work at my favorite independent bookstore, Tsunami Books, but I
know too many people who come and go there and, therefore, I’d be managing the
socializing aspect and I don’t want to.) B&N’s café offers me a table, and
I can buy my tea and food there. Those two writing days each week are
sacrosanct. The reason I don’t work at home much anymore is that my husband’s
retired. ‘Nuff said.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Tuesdays
are divided up between my writing group and writing days.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Thursday is
my day to meet with best friend and creative soul mate Jan Eliot. Jan and I
have been meeting for twenty-three years in order to keep our creative lives on
track by talking about issues that effect us and to track yearly goals we set in
January. Another diagonal line there.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>I scheduled
time this week for writing my blog and social media. <b>See separate section for this. </b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>For
everything else, I use a vertical line to show it has nothing to do with my
profession. (Notice I use the word “profession.” Start using it. That helps
develop a sense of priorities. Even if you’re a lawyer by trade, writing is
your profession—if you want it to be.)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>My Weekly To Do List</b></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>#2 Tool in Val’s Tool Kit</b></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJZm516eY6-Pc0m-pethY-xjIebs3BolQgggFQfrOXZAXvdKGNEooh9u3i6XvbetYrn2wBp0mszyqDz-QW44SxQ0SmLFxnv_t56f4d-Qqu05tX1IuDdgL0rnI_7GKx1ASCNM2K3LsBnAQ/s1600/To+Do+List.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJZm516eY6-Pc0m-pethY-xjIebs3BolQgggFQfrOXZAXvdKGNEooh9u3i6XvbetYrn2wBp0mszyqDz-QW44SxQ0SmLFxnv_t56f4d-Qqu05tX1IuDdgL0rnI_7GKx1ASCNM2K3LsBnAQ/s400/To+Do+List.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>I work best
with a <b>TO-DO LIST</b>. If I don’t write
down the major needs for the week, they often don’t get done. The list is
divided into major components: BIZ (this is for paying bills, communications,
errands in town, returning phone calls, etc. all related to my writing
profession); MY NOVEL (where I write down everything I want to accomplish that
week on my writing); MY CLIENT (I always schedule Wed. for working on my
client’s poetry marketing); other MAJOR PROJECTS (I’m organizing the upcoming
Oregon Writers Colony Founders Day weekend this month); and last, but not
least, SOCIAL MEDIA.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>My To-Do
List is written on a large sticky note that fits in my <s>calendar</s> admin
assistant.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-wJbhVOMs4mzwFb1urNBHY6Cbnb3Yn5LxdR408U_mBuoGeItjjuI8S5WB_QFdu8nRecTrh2M1dhoH-O-0N27tjRTFgqw5ssaro2NG1fbgp_kf8QYFEiX9ShZpOlsINbG5LY4zFyci1hk/s1600/I%2527m+a+writer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-wJbhVOMs4mzwFb1urNBHY6Cbnb3Yn5LxdR408U_mBuoGeItjjuI8S5WB_QFdu8nRecTrh2M1dhoH-O-0N27tjRTFgqw5ssaro2NG1fbgp_kf8QYFEiX9ShZpOlsINbG5LY4zFyci1hk/s1600/I%2527m+a+writer.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>-------<span> </span>Scheduling social media<span> </span>-------</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Here’s the
thing—psychologically, we can fool ourselves into believing that everything we
do online is related to writing. Research. Networking. Marketing. Keeping
current. Checking out the competition. Finding ideas. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>We’re
creative beings. We can justify any use of the internet.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>And isn’t
that where we get in trouble?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Let’s look
at an example:<span> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Say you’re writing
a scene in your historical novel where you need to know if Boston Commons had a
pond in 1854. You get online, Google the many permutations of “Boston Commons
pond 1854.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>You can’t
find the answer, although some of the research points to the possibility. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>“Wait!” you say. “I can post this to LinkedIn,
Women Writing the West Yahoo Users Group, and Facebook. One of my historian
friends will know.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>You post
the question.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>But as
you’re posting, you see someone has posted an article on a new service for
writers that grabs your attention. When you follow that, you see a YouTube
video for a new novel you’ve heard about and you watch it, justifying that
you, also, will need to create a trailer for your novel when it’s published.
Two hours later, you’re reading a blog post about “ten fixes for your novel’s
saggy middle” because you’re in the middle of your novel. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Sound
familiar?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Yes, and you
can justify all these side trips because they have something to do with writing. (From experience, I know many side trips have <i>nothing </i>to do with writing.)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Bravo to
those of you who have the self-discipline to stop when you’re done with your
research.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>For the
rest of you? Here’s what to do.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Don’t get
online.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span><b>Do the research later during scheduled internet time.</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>I can hear
you now. “But I need to know that information before I can continue on with my story.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>No, you
don’t.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Journalists
write drafts all the time without stopping every paragraph to do research. They
don’t interrupt the flow of their writing if they can help it. They leave the
unknown fact out, replacing it with the letters <i>tk.</i> (tk = <span>To
Come, the phonetic abbreviation used in journalism) </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span><span> </span></span>I use a highlighted <i><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;">tktktktkt</span></i> so I can easily find it later. Later, during my
scheduled time to be online, I’ll do my research. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>If your
brain right now is scrambling for a reason <i>not</i>
to do this, I can provide one: “I need to know that info for plot
purposes.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Nah, not
buying it. Sorry. Story elements can always be changed later. What you really
need to do is keep writing. If there is no pond for your character to drown in,
kill him another way. Besides, we usually do this type of research ahead of
time while forming the plot in our head. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>My big rule
for myself is “Try never to leave the page. Keep writing.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>(I couldn’t
remember what <i>tk</i> stood for so I
looked it up after I wrote a draft of this blog and then plugged it in. Yay! I'm following my own advice!)</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZFv_E8sPwZddoaq2gOP9G4ObFHXrl5fxrPo8OdkoX_sxeMKY6X2t0yrgqZJmSjF4UmJzbsjoyzYC2jtL4AriQPrr3WN4l9URjp7LMaHicUFmL76nbQCibLmNuQcUYAw1YxzFIVi-U2-w/s1600/Writers+mug.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZFv_E8sPwZddoaq2gOP9G4ObFHXrl5fxrPo8OdkoX_sxeMKY6X2t0yrgqZJmSjF4UmJzbsjoyzYC2jtL4AriQPrr3WN4l9URjp7LMaHicUFmL76nbQCibLmNuQcUYAw1YxzFIVi-U2-w/s320/Writers+mug.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>“But I Found this Great Article and I had to Read It”</b></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>#3 Tool in Val’s Tool Kit</b></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Ok, so you
went online anyway, ignoring my “research later/schedule online time” advice,
and you found an important article on “ten fixes for your novel’s saggy
middle.” You swear you needed to read it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Really? Bet
you didn’t need to read it at that moment. Bet you've made up a justification for the time you spent reading it. Bet you interrupted your writing flow. (Yes, I’m trying to make you feel guilty.)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>No, you
<i>didn’</i>t need to read it right away. Be honest. You could have read it in the evening without your world falling apart. Right? </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>So let’s
look at the real motive for needing to read that article right then. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span> Quite simply, you could have been procrastinating. More likely, </span>you, as I always was, were
afraid you’d forget it, afraid you wouldn’t get to read it because it would be
hard to find again. It would bug you if you left that page. You won't bookmark it because you have a million bookmarks.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Breathe! I have a solution.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> This is my
<i>all-time favorite tool</i>: <b><span> </span><a href="http://evernote.com/" target="_blank">Evernote</a><i>. </i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span> </span></b>This brilliant program saves web
articles or whole html pages, Word docs, pdfs, and photos. It lets you create notebooks to file them in and
then <i>synchs </i>them to all your other
electronic devices such as your iPhone, iPad or Kindle. I have a Kindle, so I
can read my saved articles on the go. <b>Evernote</b> is my library, and it’s super
easy to use.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>File
folders I created in Evernote include: NEED TO READ ASAP, Agents, Blog Ideas,
Book Promo, Concept/Query/Synopsis, Craft, Editing, Inspiration, Marketing,
Pinterest, Publishing, Query Letters/Samples, Quotations, Reading, Self Publishing,
Social Media, Web Site, Writers Resources. I also have folders for my novels
and research-related files.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>This
tool is my “fantasy” admin assistant's file system. I can’t sing its
praises high or loud enough. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>I also keep
notes on it, like the list of hashtags I use on Twitter. If I’m in town and need
to send a Tweet to a hashtag group, I can quickly look it up on my phone
because Evernote synched <i>everything</i>, including changes I made. If I'm riding in the car and I
post on my iPhone, it synchs to your computer.<span>
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>But I Want It Now!</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>#4 Tool in Val’s Tool Kit</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>This one is
so simple.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>A<b> DO TODAY! desktop folder</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Let’s say
you find an historical photo that would be great to pin to Pinterest. You’ve
done really well by going online and finding a map of Boston in 1854. (You
weren’t supposed to go online, but this time you did, found what you needed,
and got off right away because you were afraid Val was looking over your
shoulder. Bravo!)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Should you
open Pinterest and pin the photo?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>NO!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>You know
what happens when you do that. You get sucked into looking at other photos and
another hour is kaput.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Instead, pop
that photo into the <b>DO TODAY! </b>folder.
At the end of your writing day, during your scheduled online time, you open
the folder and handle everything you put in it during the day.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Goddess Gave Us Sticky Notes</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>#5 Tool in Val’s Tool Box</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Yes, <b>Sticky Notes</b>. Simple. Instead of going
online to check a spelling of a foreign word, type in <i>tk</i>, write yourself a sticky note, and
put it on your desk, lamp or calendar, someplace that’s not your computer where
it can distract you. At the end of the day, you check your <b>DO TODAY</b>! folder <i>and </i>take
care of your sticky notes. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>“I Still Get Sucked In”</b></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>#6 Tool in Val’s Tool Box</b></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>This is the
simplest and most effective tool I have.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span><b>My iPhone clock timer. </b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqlziNdbLm7a8wjJVAhaoSsjfpiYlp9HoVtIXrFhBvM5hUpEoMLAPKCd3ZNa1G2kepjYzSX9Hn2-AvRxPM7wmAkwS52oCxdxoN7dG_wRsSMofWELesQfl1LDu65_-qGeEyeUXOZ3kjWFI/s1600/iphone_timer.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqlziNdbLm7a8wjJVAhaoSsjfpiYlp9HoVtIXrFhBvM5hUpEoMLAPKCd3ZNa1G2kepjYzSX9Hn2-AvRxPM7wmAkwS52oCxdxoN7dG_wRsSMofWELesQfl1LDu65_-qGeEyeUXOZ3kjWFI/s1600/iphone_timer.png" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Any timer
works. I set the timer for 30-minute increments when I’m working on my client,
working on research, working online. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Thirty-minute
increments work best for me because an hour seems too long. Thirty minutes
passes quickly, and I’m ready for another 30 minutes. The timer helps me stay
focused. I’m less apt to waste time, especially on social media. If I set my
timer, I hurry! Especially if I’ve allotted myself only an hour.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Maybe this
would work for you with writing. I don’t know. I don’t need a timer for
writing. Once I’m in it, I’m gone.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Now for one of the biggest problems writers seem to have: </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Getting My Butt in the Chair</b></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>#7 Tool in Val’s Tool Box</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>This seems
to be the worst offender for me—getting my butt into my chair. Once I’m there,
I’m good to go. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>I’ve
developed two ways to make this difficult body part sit down.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b> </b>For at home:<b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span> </span>Create a Ritual.</b></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Before I
procrastinate by doing laundry or dishes, I shut off all the phones, home and
cell. This signals to me that I’m serious about shutting the world out so I can
write. Then I make a cup of tea and take my laptop to the bedroom where our big
slider looks out over the back meadow. Why there? Because it’s away from my
office, the magazines I need to read, my client’s pile of submissions, and other
distractions. The bedroom is peaceful and I’m not tempted to do anything else.
Yes, I have Wifi, but for some reason, when I’m in the bedroom, I’m not so
tempted.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Whatever
you do, make it special to the writing process. Light a candle. Meditate for
10-15 minutes. Fill a page with stream of consciousness writing. Make a list of
those ten things you’re grateful for. Doodle for five minutes. Reread the last
ten pages you wrote in hard copy.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span><b>Go someplace away from home that feels like
you’re going to work.</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span> </span></b>On Mondays and Fridays, I get up
in the morning, shower, get dressed, pack my computer case, and head to town
where I work in the café at Barnes and Noble. I also have a writing pal who
does the same, so we’re reinforcing this with each other.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>When I’m in
town, I have no dog to walk, no unexpected visitor, no family calls, and all
noise is not my noise. If I’m distracted by loud voices nearby, I put on my
headphones and listen to instrumental music. I work 9-3:30. At lunch, I take a
break and read a few chapters in the latest novel I’m reading or check out the
new arrivals in the bookstore.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0HbEnEeT0jeXzYqL9cwszskzvZnTjCDQ4SxL5F0ZZCit49TKdc2FCtLWJRY37fweLwfkPdxzrW91elCCyODkYpPck4XKbmQtL8K9yRzPgijg9gqL-QPx9QInw8j-Ji5i1Y0m4CO_0n-k/s1600/You+should+be+writing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0HbEnEeT0jeXzYqL9cwszskzvZnTjCDQ4SxL5F0ZZCit49TKdc2FCtLWJRY37fweLwfkPdxzrW91elCCyODkYpPck4XKbmQtL8K9yRzPgijg9gqL-QPx9QInw8j-Ji5i1Y0m4CO_0n-k/s320/You+should+be+writing.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>“I’m Addicted”</b></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Badass Tools for the Hardcore</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>So you
confess: you’re an internet junkie. Well, there are a few tools left to help if
you’re willing to take a hardline with yourself.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;"><span>·<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span>Work at a place other than your home like I do,
but choose a place that doesn’t have WiFi</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;"><span>·<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span>Have your husband or wife take your modem to
work</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;"><span>·<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span>Use software like Freedom. This software lets
you choose a certain amount of time you want to be offline, then shuts you out.
Yup. It won’t let you back online no matter what you do. </span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;"><span>·<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span>Make a contract with a friend or writer; call
each other at a certain time to say, “Start writing,” and then call each other
at the allotted time when you’re done. Accountability to others sometimes works
better than accountability to ourselves.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Bottom Line</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Warning: I’m getting tough here.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>If none of
this helps you, then you really don’t want to write that badly. Writers need to
write. They simply cannot NOT write. It’s not always about self-discipline.
It’s about passion. It’s about doing what you love. </span><span style="font-size: large;">It
doesn’t matter <i>what</i> you write. It
matters that you have to write.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> Sorry, but if you keep
talking about writing and you’re not writing, then you’re not a writer.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq-NOF1Ow3vIyFxCJWx9sR-x0j0Xat4th6rc53tffdpaXAAgTXmlaiVetTTuMpsxdRKN3iyPwVC42yjpepq1RoL2tsrGYPBFTX3kIQgMYFL8UWSONy6kfzjb24xOWc_YJMT2dwwCgP97c/s1600/blogging.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq-NOF1Ow3vIyFxCJWx9sR-x0j0Xat4th6rc53tffdpaXAAgTXmlaiVetTTuMpsxdRKN3iyPwVC42yjpepq1RoL2tsrGYPBFTX3kIQgMYFL8UWSONy6kfzjb24xOWc_YJMT2dwwCgP97c/s320/blogging.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">http://blogwritingcourse.com/</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>A Word About Blogging</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>I started
out loving the act of blogging every week. But I love writing novels more. At
first I felt guilty when I took a hiatus this year and didn’t blog for two
months. I felt guilty because this was something I started and I felt as if I
had to stick with what I started—blogging every week.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>But I
realized it had more to do with how badly I handled it. I didn’t let you, the
readers, know that I was taking a hiatus. I didn’t tell you why right at the
start. That would have been the right course of action. Later I wrote about why
I didn’t blog for two months, but that was too late. I apologize. Sometimes I
forget the good manners my mother instilled in me.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>I have
switched to blogging when I can, preferably every two to three weeks. If I take
another lengthy hiatus, I’ll let you know.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>This, of
course, is a cautionary tale if you’re thinking about starting a blog.
Everything when it’s new is fun. Well, almost everything. Give it a good amount
of consideration. Talk to people close to you, people who know your habits and
how you work. Make sure you can keep up your blog or, if you start and decide
you don’t like blogging, let your readers know and then take down the blog.
(See Kristen Lamb’s post below) I understand that, if you’re a writer, you’re
trying to create an online presence and blogging sometimes fits. But if it
doesn’t, don’t do it because you’ve been told you have to do it. Find a
different way. Like Cheryl Strayed in my last post. Right from the start, she
decided to work the heck out of her Facebook page.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Social Media for Published and Yet-to-be Published Authors</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Here’s the
distinction between social media for published and yet-to-be published authors:
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>You <i>will</i>, at some time, need to have an
online presence. You can wait until you sell your novel to create an online
presence. Or you can create it now, become comfortable with it, build it while
writing your novel or memoir. All agents and publishers will expect this of you.
If you do create an online presence while you’re writing your novel, this
presence will give you leverage with agents and editors. They will see that
you’re serious about writing as a career. If they can Google your name and it
pops up on a long list of search results, that is going to make them very happy
<i>and</i> give you an edge in the final
verdict of whether you are publishable.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Nothing,
however, beats a page-turner of a manuscript, luscious prose, or the uniqueness
of your story. And what does that mean?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span><b>Do the most important thing first:<span> </span>WRITE</b></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtgdlvBzJBNKenUhnuiMGunMEXR39wetR3xlEhr39GOXeLV0XWL17XC0mDMSEULaImt561dUEN-f2KB-VlYIp23AcJv-1fA01MPoFJ4VpJuNhiXBd30IXJy51AA4kCm39RZLB3tkqb-ww/s1600/Like.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtgdlvBzJBNKenUhnuiMGunMEXR39wetR3xlEhr39GOXeLV0XWL17XC0mDMSEULaImt561dUEN-f2KB-VlYIp23AcJv-1fA01MPoFJ4VpJuNhiXBd30IXJy51AA4kCm39RZLB3tkqb-ww/s1600/Like.jpg" /></a></div>
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>A Last Confession</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>I’m a
creative person. My needs change. I might be on Facebook a lot, and then find
myself back to blogging. I have a tough time with Twitter because I like
immersion. LinkedIn hasn’t yet satisfied my needs as a writer. SheWrites is one
of the most supportive social networks out there, but I had to stop the posts
from being delivered to my email because everyone there is soooo supportive! I
also regularly purge my email subscriptions.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>A last word
of advice: be selective about the social media you choose to use. I have not
joined Google+ because it seems to duplicate what I already have. That may
change when I publish my novel.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>I love
staying in touch with you. I love telling personal stories and helping writers when
I can. I’m not a born teacher. But I do like passing on what I’ve learned.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>I hope you
find something in this post that will keep you writing. <b>And if you have something to add that would be helpful for other
writers, please share it with us by leaving a comment. </b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span> </span></b>Keep those words flowing,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Val</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>From agent Rachelle
Gardner’s blog:</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://www.rachellegardner.com/2012/06/should-unpublished-novelists-be-platform-building/%20%20%20" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Should unpublished novelists be platform building?</b></span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>From Social Media
Guru Kristen Lamb:</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://warriorwriters.wordpress.com/2012/06/20/frankenfriends-zombie-tweets-writers-social-media-and-the-undead/" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>How not to end up a Social Media Undead</b></span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2012/07/24/technology/silicon-valley-worries-about-addiction-to-devices.html?_r=" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Silicon Valley Says Step away From the Device</b></span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span><b>COMING UP:</b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span>Graciously accepting (although very late) a blog award <b><br /></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span>Where I Work: a photographic peek into my writing
spaces</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span>A Confession: What happened after my six readers
responded to my novel</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>Valerie Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03974801169865595635noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971026925134956743.post-69345923557049481222012-07-17T21:04:00.000-07:002012-07-17T21:04:04.470-07:00Save Your Writing Life: How NOT to Let Social Media Take Over—Part II<style>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Part II -- Asking for help and
making my biggest mistake,</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>sort of </b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl8EvkFJhDaHBFs-Vy5aSysadFE9mqL-ObNfGz3CWCaxrV3oL9AdxRPJZZPC2xWSqnz9-jqPPQm4J66f8rdcLaZ_wYRLm5NzUzOwGIva3GEt11e7qnDts6xBgLY3VvTT2q6edKgbL8CrE/s1600/Drunk+Cowgirl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl8EvkFJhDaHBFs-Vy5aSysadFE9mqL-ObNfGz3CWCaxrV3oL9AdxRPJZZPC2xWSqnz9-jqPPQm4J66f8rdcLaZ_wYRLm5NzUzOwGIva3GEt11e7qnDts6xBgLY3VvTT2q6edKgbL8CrE/s1600/Drunk+Cowgirl.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">As you know from my last blog post, I was drunk
with social media. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">You know. Picture any Western where the cowgirl is stumbling
from the saloon, looking happy as hell, yelling “Yippee!” and shooting off her
gun. Too many saloons, too many drinks, too much time playing poker and having
fun. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">We all know what happens to her. She takes a header and lands
face first in the dirt.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">That’s what I did.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I felt foolish, stupid, out of control. Social Media was
running my life, not vice versa. Kind of like when I was a smoker. The
cigarettes controlled me, not the other way around.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">More important, my writing suffered. I was writing maybe
half the amount of time I had before, and I was finding it harder and harder to
focus. I felt out of control. I felt like a failure.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">But I don’t stay down long. I dusted myself off, sobered up
and asked myself, “What do I need? How am I going to get out of all these
saloons and get to work? What had other writers done?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMt8K4qkXIvzjOlhmNrREDWE8a72P6Mzu1Dv6aKFGRbYF3OjrkQQk8FEO6q3UdqXwa3EwlrQycHhsw7jSGmsH6xTJ3UL6jewFJvjHXjc1EW7toi6Svlhly956ZoTTJakgKRDjPzTtRGZQ/s1600/Posse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMt8K4qkXIvzjOlhmNrREDWE8a72P6Mzu1Dv6aKFGRbYF3OjrkQQk8FEO6q3UdqXwa3EwlrQycHhsw7jSGmsH6xTJ3UL6jewFJvjHXjc1EW7toi6Svlhly956ZoTTJakgKRDjPzTtRGZQ/s1600/Posse.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Asking for Help</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I decided to call on members of my posse. They had to have
made decisions about social media, hadn’t they? They had to have a plan? Or
even if they didn’t have a plan, they had to have figured it out by now, right?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">And it wasn’t as if I could drop it altogether. To have a
career as an author, a writer has to have a presence on the web to build a
readership and connect with those who will love the work. After landing a major
agent, one of my critique group members was told by the agent she <i>had</i> to be at least on Facebook, Twitter,
and have a website. She was told she needed to make herself known online—and
that was before the agent went out with the novel. The agent even assigned an
intern to help.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">This is not a choice unless you want your book to die right
after publication.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>My Posse</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I emailed four members of my posse for their advice: <a href="http://www.cherylstrayed.com/" target="_blank">Cheryl Strayed</a>, <a href="http://christinakatz.com/" target="_blank">Christina Katz</a>, <a href="http://ljsellers.com/" target="_blank">L.J. Sellers</a>
and <a href="http://www.blogger.com/%20%20http://www.jennieshortridge.com/jennie.php" target="_blank">Jennie Shortridge</a>.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Cheryl writes novels and memoir, and if I have to tell you
who she is, you’ve probably been living in the woods with Bigfoot.
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Christina does just about everything and publishes helpful books
for writers and mama-writers. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">L.J. is a self-published mystery writer with amazing
marketing chutzpah (and now has a big publishing deal with Amazon). </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Jennie is a four-time novelist, queen of marketing (one of brains
who created the <a href="http://seattle7writers.org/" target="_blank">Seattle7Writers</a>), and her next novel will be out in 2013 in
hardback, a triumph in the publishing world. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I asked them, <b>What do
you do online to give yourself a presence and why? </b>Here’s what they emailed
back:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN69l-Z1S_0kXAirvofXNaSYo0drKxdOao2zfBaib7gntdEOT-Mw73L4GVFfrjTsesZc0EmzVZ1jqIAdY6urHL_P2XopV1Fd2xFvfVPNrilOupXPKHPQw5Br3BfCL5l1HvkDxz_qLq_Rk/s1600/Cheryl+Strayed+by+Brian+Lindstrom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN69l-Z1S_0kXAirvofXNaSYo0drKxdOao2zfBaib7gntdEOT-Mw73L4GVFfrjTsesZc0EmzVZ1jqIAdY6urHL_P2XopV1Fd2xFvfVPNrilOupXPKHPQw5Br3BfCL5l1HvkDxz_qLq_Rk/s320/Cheryl+Strayed+by+Brian+Lindstrom.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Mr. Sugar</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfHSuHcCXkjHNOTdEVtOFxJSZ_NbFAJEBu4jxG8QjBIAiPt_z2qkIlw2vaEQBoQUKE1lgZaBGNWPhFgG96-D24Rt6U0HtcF3q_QaNBxvYWKnD-axfogy2hgLE5f4JwCG-svLFp42sxvRE/s1600/Tiny+Beautiful+things.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfHSuHcCXkjHNOTdEVtOFxJSZ_NbFAJEBu4jxG8QjBIAiPt_z2qkIlw2vaEQBoQUKE1lgZaBGNWPhFgG96-D24Rt6U0HtcF3q_QaNBxvYWKnD-axfogy2hgLE5f4JwCG-svLFp42sxvRE/s320/Tiny+Beautiful+things.jpg" width="207" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Cheryl Strayed</b>,
author of the novel <i>Torch</i>, her memoir
and Oprah pick <i>Wild, </i>and <i>Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Life and
Love from Dear Sugar</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 14pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: blue;"> Here's what I do: I work the hell out of my Facebook
page. It takes very little time to post links, comments, little bits of stuff
here and there. I get tons of traffic on my page. I'm guessing most of those
people, like me, have little time to read blogs or email newsletters. I think
having a solid, active Facebook page does more for me than a blog or newsletter
would.</span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 14pt;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjuAE38j5OM9kJqHU5OtiYmQIHX1EIoBo0RVS6Lj_JBpIQkWs3gDGD6abFTy4-NR5qkTofOBiAjzq2L5mi3KIN0jV6hjHvcUccXLTMVivx0KaTNuNRVN_lkMAr4GD6rHtrbBxcYcMaPp4/s1600/Final-Katz-Casual-0137-Small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjuAE38j5OM9kJqHU5OtiYmQIHX1EIoBo0RVS6Lj_JBpIQkWs3gDGD6abFTy4-NR5qkTofOBiAjzq2L5mi3KIN0jV6hjHvcUccXLTMVivx0KaTNuNRVN_lkMAr4GD6rHtrbBxcYcMaPp4/s1600/Final-Katz-Casual-0137-Small.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Cristina Katz</b>,
author of <i>Writer Mama, Get Known Before
the Book Deal, </i>and<i> The Writer’s
Workout.</i><span style="color: blue;"></span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: blue;"> I
do pretty much everything and update/upgrade every six months to keep up.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: blue;"> I
recommend creating a </span><a href="http://wordpress.org/"><span style="color: blue;">Wordpress.org</span></a><span style="color: blue;"> blog that
can serve as blog and a website. Go Daddy offers hosting for them.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: blue;"> Typepad
also can work as a blog/wesbite and would be simpler but I didn't care for
their interface.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: blue;"> I've
posted a list on my blog of the things authors can do: </span><a href="http://christinakatz.com/publishers-online-tools-every-author-can-should-master/"><span style="color: blue;">http://christinakatz.com/publishers-online-tools-every-author-can-should-master/</span></a><span style="color: blue;"></span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Mc-DX4_1lNTAiZ9SXQ0gwgMgVd1fYhyphenhyphenBPafxZW_n-nC7xgX4jB2bPSAhyySxO30gzUbOOJeWAj3FWpVVtMsRKNUiZPjqcWY3cNE6Nktd0_xWsv76gEdgSduYbMNsQhGJFXJiEP-Jsbo/s1600/jennie2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Mc-DX4_1lNTAiZ9SXQ0gwgMgVd1fYhyphenhyphenBPafxZW_n-nC7xgX4jB2bPSAhyySxO30gzUbOOJeWAj3FWpVVtMsRKNUiZPjqcWY3cNE6Nktd0_xWsv76gEdgSduYbMNsQhGJFXJiEP-Jsbo/s1600/jennie2.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Jennie Shortridge</b>,
author of <i>Riding with the Queen, Eating
Heaven, Love and Biology </i>and <i>When She
Flew</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: blue;"> With
any kind of marketing, it's really helpful to see what other authors do, <b>and decide which things you like or don't
like</b>. You'll only be successful doing those things you like doing, so
choose for your own personality. Most marketing these days happens online, so
check out authors' websites, Facebook pages, etc. With websites, you need a few
key elements: about the author, about the book, order the book, events,
contact/join mailing list, and of course links to social media and blogs.
Readers really like having more detailed information, too, a "behind the
scenes" look at the author and/or book they can't get anywhere else. I try
to include some kind of background information about each book, and/or things
inspired by it, like music or recipes. A lot of authors do contests and things
like that to get repeat visitors, but I don't like doing that. To make my site
more “sticky,” I put news and my blog on the home page, so that the content changes
frequently.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: blue;"> I
use Maddee at </span><a href="http://xuni.com/"><span style="color: blue; text-decoration: none;">Xuni.com</span></a><span style="color: blue;"> to design and update my website. I provide her with the raw
material: copy, photos, whatever. She works with my input, and I choose imagery
from </span><a href="http://dreamstime.com/"><span style="color: blue; text-decoration: none;">dreamstime.com</span></a><span style="color: blue;">, where you can download free images in the public domain.
It's a great resource. I now send images I find there to my publisher to “show”
my ideas for each new cover. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: blue;"> In
addition to Facebook and (begrudgingly, Twitter) I have a presence on Red Room
(which is really great) and to a lesser extent, Good Reads. I do more when I'm
in promotion mode than when I’m between cycles, of course, but I try to keep
somewhat current, just by posting something here and there or commenting on
others’ posts. There is an old adage that if someone gets seven impressions of,
say, a book (1. a review, 2. see it in store, 3. hear about from friend, 4. see
author on TV, etc.) they will be more likely to want/purchase that thing. So it
can’t hurt if they see you on Facebook here and there, or a review you wrote on
Good Reads, or a blog you posted to Red Room. Speaking of blogging, book blog
tours are wonderful. One good company doing that (among many) is TLC Tours.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: blue;"> The
other promotional methods that work well for me are reading events (not only
the reading itself, necessarily, but also the promotion that goes into it, the
stack of books that sits at the front of the store for an extra couple of
weeks, and getting to know the bookseller personally), occasional email
newsletters, and attending regional bookseller trade shows to meet lots of
booksellers. Throw in a little radio here and there, a few reviews and
profiles, some fundraiser appearances or writing conferences . . . it’s just
really a big mix, and I’m always trying to think up new things, inside and
outside the box.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinC0qsBAAT7I3DQNb1nAA4MsMDq1YYhvocJq3Im8_388ssloupPgjgAY3-IFNxFRI7AhAUeeHa7UKHv5kBIZ7-WwYjryMhDt1bQsA2GFEkuF5Z57VGLn2NOx6LE8PSj6mcHTKnRBaAeL4/s1600/LJ+Sellers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinC0qsBAAT7I3DQNb1nAA4MsMDq1YYhvocJq3Im8_388ssloupPgjgAY3-IFNxFRI7AhAUeeHa7UKHv5kBIZ7-WwYjryMhDt1bQsA2GFEkuF5Z57VGLn2NOx6LE8PSj6mcHTKnRBaAeL4/s1600/LJ+Sellers.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>L.J. Sellers</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Author of provocative mysteries and thrillers and her latest
Detective Jackson mystery <i>Liars, Cheaters
and Thieves. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When she started:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: blue;"> The
great thing about blogs now is that they’re so easy to set up, and both Blogger
and WordPress let you create pages on your blog so that it has some depth like
a website. And with sidebars you can create a newsletter look.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: blue;"> I
do e-zines only when I have a new release. But a lot of writers do them more
frequently. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: blue;"> Blogger
is a good (easy) place to start if you just want to have a website presence and
a place to express yourself and draw readers. Then see how it goes. Have fun
with it.</span><span style="color: #1f4496;"></span></span></div>
</blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #1f4496;"></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: blue;"> I’m
on my third website design and I paid different designers for each version,
spending more each time. But as my readership grew, so did the importance of
looking professional and making a good impression. My website is set up in
Wordpress and incorporates my blog, which is pretty common now. It’s so easy to
update. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: blue;"> I’m
also part of a group blog, Crime Fiction Collective. And of course, I have
several Facebook pages, and I’m on Twitter and Google+.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ck6AUGLjueHDGD7DTbkMiJlcx4qQTPGrq5mAZ-_mTSsdVOpYhsT0JQZ21LMxMWUkw6iuyG0KIj1CLPB7t7XPgsTNOjpM3lGn2ZOzmw1-OzJ7UGYcz57tBzlTtX-rjYawoxXrYvodmwA/s1600/We+can+do+it.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ck6AUGLjueHDGD7DTbkMiJlcx4qQTPGrq5mAZ-_mTSsdVOpYhsT0JQZ21LMxMWUkw6iuyG0KIj1CLPB7t7XPgsTNOjpM3lGn2ZOzmw1-OzJ7UGYcz57tBzlTtX-rjYawoxXrYvodmwA/s1600/We+can+do+it.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>My Take on All of This</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That was a lot to chew on. I liked what Cheryl did and would
love to just work the heck out of Facebook. She went stratospheric with <i>Wild </i>so entered entirely different
territory. But I didn’t have a novel to push, so I needed more of a presence online
to show my chops as a writer. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Christina had great ideas, too, because she’s a writer’s
writer, trying to help other writers with their marketing and management. She, however,
markets non-fiction to writers, and that’s a specific niche. I read one of her
books, <i>Get Known Before the Book Deal</i>,
and used a few of her ideas, but I can't do them all, so I need to make choices based on my needs.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Jennie reminded me to do what I thought I’d <i>like </i>to do, not what I’m supposed to do.
I loved all her advice. Jennie’s a wrangler; she could move a whole town from
one place to another. I’m not like that. I need eight hours sleep, and I’m a
slow writer. Her specific, helpful ideas made me think seriously about a blog.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">L.J.’s another marketing maven and her best advice was “Have
fun with it.” Her enthusiasm for a blog made me see how a blog would really
help me as a writer of fiction.</span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHLAHvvcvB7m-WtRqumdBpe-bM8Gk5PA4RUdJuh-vtsMlUgazcbtCqAApb2WhWGaS9eRbV55K3gHkOxPqAqhv3YDjawdBsobXatjMSy5aMtc2RWErsU7fPEeGIRU8pZTewjkcMHrh36bs/s1600/Analysis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHLAHvvcvB7m-WtRqumdBpe-bM8Gk5PA4RUdJuh-vtsMlUgazcbtCqAApb2WhWGaS9eRbV55K3gHkOxPqAqhv3YDjawdBsobXatjMSy5aMtc2RWErsU7fPEeGIRU8pZTewjkcMHrh36bs/s1600/Analysis.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>My Analysis</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">These four authors were doing everything they could to connect
with their readers. That meant they were doing everything I was doing and much
more. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">With their input and what I knew, I analyzed my situation:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span>First, why was I doing social media at all if I
didn’t have a novel out? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New";">o<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span>To begin building my readership and get known
online.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span>I had very good pieces in two anthologies, so
could I direct readers there?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New";">o<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span>Yes, I needed a place to talk about them and
start attracting readers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span>I was on too many social media sites that were repetitive
with business related info about publishing, agents, e-publishing, etc. Could I
drop one or two of those? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New";">o<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span>Yes. There are only so many articles I need to
read about those subjects.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span>If I wanted to reach readers, where could I go
that would be better than just the blogs and groups that dealt with the craft
of writing or how to get published?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New";">o<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span>I needed to be more focused on being active in
reader communities such as Goodreads and Shelfari.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span>What overwhelms me? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New";">o<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span>My email inbox. Three of my social media sites
have groups specific to a subject. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New";">o<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span>Much of my email was coming from those. I needed
to unsubscribe.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span>What is the most important thing I should be
doing? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New";">o<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><b>Finishing
a novel </b>and getting it to my agent. <b>Writing</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span>What would be most beneficial right now for me as
an unpublished novelist? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New";">o<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span>Creating readers. Giving them a taste of my
writing. Giving them stories.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span>What could create readers? How could I give
readers a sample of my writing?</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-left: 1in; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New";">o<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span>A blog.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That sounded like the best choice. And, because I was
editing and revising two novels, the idea of writing something new and short
excited me. Okay. All I needed was an idea for a blog and a focus, a blog name,
and a schedule. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Soon I had my blog up and running.</span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhknZdzjwxVZ72VMjMDzezWH6FNrryRr3laFOPCxVeK0yrl6dPZiJYJNcLSsR04D4ZFVCJl_nebiGIVnzqwfhtI_rWvR3PPtPRGaSRvP9PDZDvjucyz91qSG50F7916PlQeZHR8W6ULLZg/s1600/Oh+no.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhknZdzjwxVZ72VMjMDzezWH6FNrryRr3laFOPCxVeK0yrl6dPZiJYJNcLSsR04D4ZFVCJl_nebiGIVnzqwfhtI_rWvR3PPtPRGaSRvP9PDZDvjucyz91qSG50F7916PlQeZHR8W6ULLZg/s200/Oh+no.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>My Mistake</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Call me a nitwit. Call me dunderhead. Call me whatever.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I had added yet another social media item to maintain, and
this one demanded not only daily maintenance, but creativity. (See <a href="http://gobsmackedwriter.blogspot.com/2012/04/why-i-havent-blogged-in-over-two-months.html" target="_blank">Why I Haven’t Blogged in Over Two Months</a>)</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I did give myself credit for not working LinkedIn, dropping
group emails, reducing my email inbox, and establishing a writing schedule,
never mind restraining myself from reading everyone else’s blog and following
every cool site they posted.</span>
<br />
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But now what? What could I do? I couldn’t just drop my blog.
I enjoyed hearing from my readers. I enjoyed writing the blog posts most of the
time. Plus, once I publish a novel, I’ll already be up and running and won’t
have that to do. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But, everything goes back to that: finishing a novel and
getting it published.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Again, the trick is to do the most important thing
first—write. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The best way I can help myself do that is to keep social
media sane and manage it. And I have found a way. I’ve developed a strategy.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>For the next
post, I’ll tell you what that strategy is and it's not necessarily about fixing my use of social media. Intrigued? Stop in for Part III.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>How about you? Have
you made mistakes and how did you fix them? Or if you haven’t fixed them, want
some ideas on how to fix them? Do you have a social media strategy?</b></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Leave me a comment, and I’ll even do a little counseling on <i>your </i>particular problem. Or if you
prefer, we can brainstorm privately. I would love to hear outrageous ideas for
managing social media. We’re creative aren’t we? Let’s blue sky!</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thanks for being there!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Val</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Special thanks to my posse, Cheryl, Jennie, Christina and L.J. Plus, a big howdy do and thanks to <a href="http://animprobablelife.com/author/beckygreenaaronson/" target="_blank">Becky Green Aaronson</a> who likened social media to
The Wild West in a comment on Part I.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">A few links to other good posts about this topic:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="http://www.rachellegardner.com/2012/06/my-love-hate-relationship-with-social-media/" target="_blank">My Love / Hate Relationship with Social Media</a> </b>by Literary Agent Rachelle Gardner</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://kidlit.com/2010/07/21/should-unpublished-writers-blog/" target="_blank"><b>Do Unpublished Writers Have to Blog?</b></a> By Mary Kole of kidlit.com & Movable Type Management</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>COMING UP AFTER Part III:</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Where I work. A photographic peek into my writing
spaces.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">A confession: What happened after my six readers
responded to my novel.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>Valerie Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03974801169865595635noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971026925134956743.post-42127677313461375842012-06-28T07:00:00.002-07:002012-06-28T07:00:54.464-07:00Save Your Writing Life: How NOT to Let Social Media Take Over—Part I<style>
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<span style="font-size: large;">... Or How to
Make Choices about Social Media</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">A few weeks ago, I rode up to the Portland Art Museum to see
a David Hockney exhibit with my pal <a href="http://www.stonesoupcartoons.com/" target="_blank">Jan Eliot</a>.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I confessed how life lately felt overwhelming, and I
couldn’t seem to accomplish the simple tasks on my list.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">As all good pals do, she reminded me that I’d just finished
a novel and was revising my last one and with all the work I’d been doing, never
mind juggling family and a part-time job, it was understandable that I was a
little “fried.”</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge5UcIvyhiZ3a2_uX7BiY43JqoWqkzx5BZTk_KQgthBJmHy7m3L-cW8xhPX9Z43H3PY0DSatMhsYbaAE9htiWKUgxh6_XNt7PrCqelpSsSUwu-w1neZdUf5yB8n1eEhjyLxfMtE160MS8/s1600/Fried.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge5UcIvyhiZ3a2_uX7BiY43JqoWqkzx5BZTk_KQgthBJmHy7m3L-cW8xhPX9Z43H3PY0DSatMhsYbaAE9htiWKUgxh6_XNt7PrCqelpSsSUwu-w1neZdUf5yB8n1eEhjyLxfMtE160MS8/s1600/Fried.jpg" /></a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Don’t you just love best pals?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I was also in the waiting game—six readers had my manuscript
and I was waiting for their feedback. Waiting always weighs on me
psychologically even though I try not to think about what the readers will say.<i> Did they love my characters?</i> <i>Will they love the story? Did I miss
something? How huge will the changes be? Did I blow it somehow? Would they buy
this novel as a book? </i>A dump truck of doubts will unload in my mind without
permission.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Km0hsXEgVqql9aOBAQAWcd-9ybkZadtGWL7ZNGVJ9b8OcKmcRd-gcJNXXAAvtJOLu-yPAk9Yx8odhMQ4zXc4Krlm9ndmBpgdV1kfveJLEQ-DyJQIpCZDBQcWGnKB8DH5MFosZ1rDhnY/s1600/Dump+truck.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Km0hsXEgVqql9aOBAQAWcd-9ybkZadtGWL7ZNGVJ9b8OcKmcRd-gcJNXXAAvtJOLu-yPAk9Yx8odhMQ4zXc4Krlm9ndmBpgdV1kfveJLEQ-DyJQIpCZDBQcWGnKB8DH5MFosZ1rDhnY/s200/Dump+truck.jpg" width="200" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">So back to my pal Jan and our conversation.</span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">My dumb luck was to actually have good timing. Jan had
recently returned from L.A. and a visit to her brother-in-law and his wife who
just happened to be reading <i>The Now Habit,</i>
first published in 1989 and recently updated.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Jan said, “After talking about the book, I came away with
one great rule for getting things done—do the most important thing on your list
first.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">For a minute, that sounded so obvious that I was about to
dismiss it. <b>Do the most important thing
first.</b> Hmm. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Then I had to admit something to myself—I usually did just
the opposite. I took care of little tasks first so I felt that I’d accomplished
something right away.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">A follow-up to an email. Accepting a friend request. Sending
a pdf of the notes to a meeting.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP8RTNcbmEjwSL57yDw06MfkxQMd2VgrKX80VQTc18aXCPHEsUV2qZ1p4QeUM1g_WivPfcugmWyFEuUg1KDg9dxqoJwb-MNH7Rndp4YBfAF4TmZ0ynQJt1NN7zM9ePIfggvbMxPSbFtaw/s1600/trap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP8RTNcbmEjwSL57yDw06MfkxQMd2VgrKX80VQTc18aXCPHEsUV2qZ1p4QeUM1g_WivPfcugmWyFEuUg1KDg9dxqoJwb-MNH7Rndp4YBfAF4TmZ0ynQJt1NN7zM9ePIfggvbMxPSbFtaw/s1600/trap.jpg" /></a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I should know that little trap. A few hours later, I’ve gone
from email, to the web because I just <i>have</i>
to respond to one of my social media pals because I’m a responsible human
being. Or I <i>need </i>to post something <i>so </i>important. If I’m really sucked in
(and my mind has been taken over by future tripping), I watch a TED talk on
book cover design because, of course, that will be important in the future if I
decide to self publish. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">(Ha! Admit it. Right now you’re thinking, <i>What TED talk on book cover design?)</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Jan and I talked about this big <i>aha </i>moment, how such a simple bit of advice seemed so important.
Don’t we always have to be reminded of the obvious? Then we arrived at the
museum, and we surrendered to Hockney and art. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">The next day, I remembered our discussion and downloaded a
sample of <i>The Now Habit</i> onto my Kindle.
This paragraph grabbed my attention; the bold highlights are mine:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Surfing the Internet, instant messaging, e-mailing, and the
use of cell phones have added to the number of distractions that can seduce us
away from our mission of starting on a major project that could change our
lives. Because these new devices give us an immediate response, they have <b>an unfair competitive edge</b> over
activities that will not be rewarded until the end of the month or—as in the
case of finishing school, <b>writing a book</b>,
or learning to play the piano—until after one to four years of intensive work.
All the more reason to use the tools offered you by <i>The Now Habit.</i>”</span></div>
</blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Bingo. I had a new rule—<i>do
the most important task on your list first.</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">One of his points is about procrastination, and I’m guessing
here that this has to do with fiddling around with small chores before doing
the most demanding because, well, it’s the most demanding. The other, I’ll bet,
is about breaking habits that let us <i>believe
</i>we’re being productive when, in fact, they’re not. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">So how do I change the habit of going for the immediate
reward?</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoMG6CipkavRYB9A55ovoRwH6XpkBK9H5zi3vQjnnzcUeTRHRiv1BECvw2lsDmw96c-I3_rsB91g_u0LB2BzNxbEJ1Aa56Qj8jveHHP1zD2e-6gYVQym7qQDaCakTtG27n8TY1mIZAvpY/s1600/Beginnings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoMG6CipkavRYB9A55ovoRwH6XpkBK9H5zi3vQjnnzcUeTRHRiv1BECvw2lsDmw96c-I3_rsB91g_u0LB2BzNxbEJ1Aa56Qj8jveHHP1zD2e-6gYVQym7qQDaCakTtG27n8TY1mIZAvpY/s1600/Beginnings.jpg" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">(Well, not exactly)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Back to my beginnings</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">To answer that question (and while I read the book), I
decided to go back to the beginning of my own experience in social media to understand
what I’ve done, why I made my choices, and where I’m at now. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwUIhroRqyBAess33Fop1o3oBCsaW_08R27x_zAZ2XvolBpnSi2ZyKjDZaKSkm-T01MGTSlfBrjCCHOaV662uWJY_v8s39CIukpAR6k-whlHloEFV5z958-4X5TseFEBvcqaP8aXvmqrs/s1600/Social+media+Peanuts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwUIhroRqyBAess33Fop1o3oBCsaW_08R27x_zAZ2XvolBpnSi2ZyKjDZaKSkm-T01MGTSlfBrjCCHOaV662uWJY_v8s39CIukpAR6k-whlHloEFV5z958-4X5TseFEBvcqaP8aXvmqrs/s1600/Social+media+Peanuts.jpg" /></a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">As a writer, I’m always reading about why I must be a social
media expert in order to be successful. Articles abound about the topic, but I
have not found many that help a writer make personal decisions about the social
media that will work for them and how to manage it along with writing a novel,
memoir or anything else.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I decided to approach such a big subject by breaking it down
into three blog posts, kind of like a three-act structure--beginning, middle
and end:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Part I (below) – Back
to my beginnings. </b>How I chose the social media that I thought fit my
personality and needs, and my major screw ups.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Part II –Asking for
help and making my biggest mistake. </b>How four of my writer friends responded
when I asked what they chose to do and why (Jennie Shortridge, LJ Sellers,
Cheryl Strayed and Christina Katz), followed by my doozy decision.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Part III – What I’m
doing to save myself, plus a few hardcore ways to manage social media and put
writing time first</b>. Ideas to vanquish demons, break a habit, and not feel
guilty, plus a few tools for your toolbox for retraining purposes.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>PART I</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">How did I begin? The usual. I just dove in. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I joined Facebook on November 23, 2007. How do I know this?
Facebook’s Timeline. Great for keeping track of yourself.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">From the beginning, I wanted the FB page to focus on writing.
I’m not one for needing to know if a friend had just kissed a walrus or ate a nouvelle
cuisine worm pie. (Sorry, but sometimes posts do seem this ridiculous.) </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuB7BKXVnxZezUeEek0I5Vy2royeQpw5hXExfIm5qg9wwyhCoM9Vb1mQGCbMhJcPsvQQVu5na7ZWXMdG3yTTJW72RvRZS97lKdzbopGxYXIA7ZApxKvnbFjmr5kjpojSdeMgdT8xAtk6w/s1600/Oops.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuB7BKXVnxZezUeEek0I5Vy2royeQpw5hXExfIm5qg9wwyhCoM9Vb1mQGCbMhJcPsvQQVu5na7ZWXMdG3yTTJW72RvRZS97lKdzbopGxYXIA7ZApxKvnbFjmr5kjpojSdeMgdT8xAtk6w/s200/Oops.jpg" width="150" /></a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">At the time, I was at a month-long writer’s residency at
Vermont Studio Center. Two friends, Randy Sue Coburn and Cheryl Strayed, posted
on my page. I think I had six friends in all. I started out with the right
intention, to make Facebook focus on my writing. My first “like” was PBS. Good
start.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">But then came the social media gurus, the people who tell you
that, as a writer, you need to build a platform, to “brand” yourself online so
that you become known before you publish. Then that fan group will purchase
your book.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I confess: my mom once said, “Valerie, you’re a good girl
who wants to be a bad girl.” I think she meant I do what I’m supposed to do until
I smack my forehead and say, “This isn’t working for me, People!” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Years went by and, like a good girl, I joined Twitter, two
Yahoo groups, and LinkedIn. I joined groups within those social networks and
the next thing I knew, my email box was flooded. I was following blogs, I’m
clicking on links that have to do with how to encourage followers, how to
e-publish, the pros and cons of self-publishing, how to use key words, etc. ad
nauseum.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc2Jzm702jkxj8PfvdHjGLM4KiqwV_hMji-11mUGGKY1u17XvIsbO3IYEmMtNvGY0_JwtIOMq8Dj2ejqQCvGWTi3ErIFmElMcJdRBwTgSzCc0o8apS_FbnCvdaxT3yBXe56Nv2Y63sOng/s1600/mistakes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc2Jzm702jkxj8PfvdHjGLM4KiqwV_hMji-11mUGGKY1u17XvIsbO3IYEmMtNvGY0_JwtIOMq8Dj2ejqQCvGWTi3ErIFmElMcJdRBwTgSzCc0o8apS_FbnCvdaxT3yBXe56Nv2Y63sOng/s1600/mistakes.jpg" /></a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> If I were still a pirate, I would be yelling, “Arrrrrgh!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Oh, what the hell. <b>“Arrrrrgh!”</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Soon, I was creating folders for articles I needed to read
but didn’t have time for. Soon, I was dreading my email because I felt <i>guilty</i> because I couldn’t keep up. Then
I received two abusive responses on LinkedIn for a post of an article about
Amazon.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">What in heck was I doing?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">None of it helped the writing. None of it gave me that
gorgeous imaginative space for creation. None of it inspired me.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW4Qmtc5QYDkYoUI7-0X-tevAuDeyW0OLkxw07CBDlg7_RZ57DBqoE7Yd6YvfKgepwqCHW_wJEhP8ulKDo4QBjQ2YfGLHhPTOwYK7S-StX55FJwMll2Lstl-S3gBDYSpv7yonTr4lZ4Gs/s1600/Fractured+Fairytales.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW4Qmtc5QYDkYoUI7-0X-tevAuDeyW0OLkxw07CBDlg7_RZ57DBqoE7Yd6YvfKgepwqCHW_wJEhP8ulKDo4QBjQ2YfGLHhPTOwYK7S-StX55FJwMll2Lstl-S3gBDYSpv7yonTr4lZ4Gs/s1600/Fractured+Fairytales.jpg" /></a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I was fractured.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">What happened next? </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Tune in for Part II, next week, when I do something really
stupid.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Until then, walk around a new neighborhood, fill your lungs with
fresh air, clear your head, and escape into that magical zone of daydreaming.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnJBC0bAxlPdVV6ErTxtZGwBOg9ZlCzrVSu6d71UzFVxr-hk7O7Vi3_k5CgSHw0n599FJohm8lmps_HojzJKB5Rahn2Ix_NZ2vNayTuSH47GlqKyuCOPJwE_Tk04ALGobDV-RPy_Aqj4g/s1600/magic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnJBC0bAxlPdVV6ErTxtZGwBOg9ZlCzrVSu6d71UzFVxr-hk7O7Vi3_k5CgSHw0n599FJohm8lmps_HojzJKB5Rahn2Ix_NZ2vNayTuSH47GlqKyuCOPJwE_Tk04ALGobDV-RPy_Aqj4g/s200/magic.jpg" width="197" /></a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>And if you, too, have
something to confess or can guess where this is going, leave a comment. I’d
love to hear what you’ve been through, how you began.</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Let your naked thoughts and confessions find respite here.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Hugs,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Val</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>COMING UP AFTER Part II & III:</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Where I work. A photographic peek into my writing spaces.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">A confession: What happened after my six readers responded to my
novel.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">And thanks, Jan, for your fun comic strips about the 40th Birthday of Title IX! Check it out:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.stonesoupcartoons.com/" target="_blank">Stone Soup Cartoons</a> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>Valerie Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03974801169865595635noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971026925134956743.post-52654740740233421902012-06-03T13:47:00.000-07:002012-06-03T13:47:10.645-07:00WILD by Cheryl Strayed--WINNER of First Edition Hardback!<span style="font-size: large;">Hi All,</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Yes, it's been awhile and as promised in my April blog post, I am giving away a first edition hardback of Cheryl Strayed's <i>Wild</i> and have selected the winner from everyone who commented in April, both on my blog and via email or SheWrites.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtycINI5ArbXCZNYbIeNG4klJsQ2qIovLDys-tHzZpaN9zFAUp2NEsmgDm6VQayMEbqIfawN9SalRkTVJFxYUdU6E8KxI2IfN6HuSO7jnbP9YH852AET1O4Eu2hmsv2ugUO-AfopzYeEc/s1600/Wild+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtycINI5ArbXCZNYbIeNG4klJsQ2qIovLDys-tHzZpaN9zFAUp2NEsmgDm6VQayMEbqIfawN9SalRkTVJFxYUdU6E8KxI2IfN6HuSO7jnbP9YH852AET1O4Eu2hmsv2ugUO-AfopzYeEc/s1600/Wild+2.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I have a regular blog post coming soon, but news about Cheryl has catapulted me onto the internet (and out of working on two novels) to celebrate her news and give away this amazing memoir. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Yesterday, Oprah announced a new book club, saying she decided to revive the book club after reading <i>Wild. </i>She said, "I was like, 'where is the Oprah Winfrey show when you need to announce and tell everybody about his book?' I need the book club."</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2qoiInFj-wFFCeSznMhUg2Dh0Y-jtA7wZa3-u_A0PTSszn4vb77OPz_aGQ4kmoUg5lN1ToxuP8J0jOpjSwGxtqZrGPSqphV5gMI_E9Z2aFuHeoCtmu5adIH0nGWfVMBBsA6PEtjk-n6E/s1600/cheryl+&+Oprah.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2qoiInFj-wFFCeSznMhUg2Dh0Y-jtA7wZa3-u_A0PTSszn4vb77OPz_aGQ4kmoUg5lN1ToxuP8J0jOpjSwGxtqZrGPSqphV5gMI_E9Z2aFuHeoCtmu5adIH0nGWfVMBBsA6PEtjk-n6E/s1600/cheryl+&+Oprah.jpg" /></a></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Here's the video announcement:</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/mzxOioEisWo?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">So without further fuss and champagne drinking, congrats to one of my SheWrites peeps in winning the book and maybe now joining Oprah's new book club to discuss Cheryl's Amazing Adventure.</span><br />
<div style="color: red;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">JANNETTE ENG</span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Congrats, Jannette! I'm sure you'll love it. </span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">And thanks to all who commented on my blog post. I promised to follow up with constructive ideas on how to not get derailed by social media and I will, with a two-part post coming soon, the first one with advice by authors who have different ways of dealing with this, and the second part a compendium of hardcore tools, suggestions, advice and resources for anyone else who feels the pinch of social media on their time and creativity. Many of the tools are ones I've heard of or created for myself and can be adapted immediately. The last thing I want to do is take up your time in figuring out ways to gain time. Seems a little counterproductive, doesn't it?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Hope you're enjoying your life and being "wild" every so often!</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Val</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />For the curious who love to read about people who have struggled and overcome some "big thing," whatever it is, in their life, I'm loving this new blog, "Re-inventing Karla." Check it out!</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: blue; font-size: large;"><a href="http://reinventingkarla.blogspot.com/2012/05/vertigo-part-1-i-woke-up-friday-morning_06.html" target="_blank">Re-inventing Karla</a></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>Valerie Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03974801169865595635noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971026925134956743.post-79073376041135019392012-04-30T23:33:00.000-07:002012-04-30T23:38:04.755-07:00The Day My Dad Died<style>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> The day my
dad died I was one month shy of my nineteenth birthday and six months pregnant.
I’d spent the day with my husband, whom I would divorce three years later,
driving around Lake Winnisquam, looking for a place to rent so we wouldn’t be
stuck in our second floor, two-room stuffy apartment in Laconia. I’d grown up
on Lake Winnisquam and needed a place with fresh air where I could walk outside
with my baby, barefoot, maybe even see the lake shimmer in the distance. If
really lucky, we’d find a place where I could sit under a tree by the water and
wade in to cool off on hot muggy days.</span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnPXsZXfN2pbF0fb4BKLcGaFEXd7Rg588bL1QS0011ASd0Hq3hru72c5dP97MhBNT45H6SPaPHk_7-NQRyidtAI3bstTV0NQhfwouGAZpLxa0Gxt2cLmVnVIeHHBvwkZeybzylBl7nHVs/s1600/Kent+and+I+at+Silver+Lake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnPXsZXfN2pbF0fb4BKLcGaFEXd7Rg588bL1QS0011ASd0Hq3hru72c5dP97MhBNT45H6SPaPHk_7-NQRyidtAI3bstTV0NQhfwouGAZpLxa0Gxt2cLmVnVIeHHBvwkZeybzylBl7nHVs/s200/Kent+and+I+at+Silver+Lake.jpg" width="176" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">My brother and I at the lake</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> We drove
all afternoon and found a place, a small two-room cabin just down the road from
my parents on Hill Road, across from the right-of-way that gave everyone on the
opposite side of the road access to a swimming spot. The right-of-way, as we
always called it, held memories of neighborhood swims and my first kiss from an
out-of-town boy called Punk. When I needed space from my family or a retreat
from a fight with my dad, I’d slip down to the right-of-way and sit under a big
pine to daydream, cry or cool off.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> The day my
dad died, we rented that cabin, relieved to find a place we could afford. I
thought how lucky I was to be near my lake when the baby came. As we drove down
Hill Road and approached my parent’s house, something happened that I’ve only
been able to describe as a flash of light, as if an old-fashioned camera bulb
had popped in my face and blinded me for a moment. I clutched at my rounded
belly and said, “We have to stop. I need to see Dad.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I’d been
taking Dad to the VA hospital in Vermont, checking on him for my mom when she
was at work, but being so wrapped up in new-found love and baby making made me
blind to how ill my dad was.</span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFMc1U9HmReUc8u5cTHExK_MU2dqVrGiIoM2jFCYmec5tk6hNR_cir6vnleL11TmO2vDpdjVSRlA7ms7cG-vz-d-ZPzrOUxhdETR5JHxOsiiy15KzMWAOaguxz8ft9VjThGfBTZmNM43k/s1600/Picking+string+beans+with+dad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFMc1U9HmReUc8u5cTHExK_MU2dqVrGiIoM2jFCYmec5tk6hNR_cir6vnleL11TmO2vDpdjVSRlA7ms7cG-vz-d-ZPzrOUxhdETR5JHxOsiiy15KzMWAOaguxz8ft9VjThGfBTZmNM43k/s320/Picking+string+beans+with+dad.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dad, me and my brother Kent picking beans</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> My husband
didn’t like my father, so he drove past the salmon-colored ranch-style house
that my father spent years remodeling, my life-long home only six months
earlier. As we pulled out onto the Route 3, I glanced back at the house where
my dad had tended his garden and raspberry bushes, a house that he insisted was
“salmon-colored” not pink. The tiny porch wasn’t big enough for a chair, but it
was a good place to get out of the weather and take off boots, to greet guests,
to sit on the steps as a little kid with a friend or my brother or sister. I
remember window boxes, having always had a soft spot for them, but I’m not sure
they existed.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4fgmfsHA5hsGdtu1D-vSE-4nuox6Tjxteso9E7RuELTFLi0OS2v8AooUvlixAF6PGnO7zW2vWZyV-OoST2Mkcqkz99zL1Zs5gmJkWFaK2wYscJIYcB-XMFiA5WwHbRlCZ6lWCtTgIjIo/s1600/Christmas+1965+with+color+tv.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4fgmfsHA5hsGdtu1D-vSE-4nuox6Tjxteso9E7RuELTFLi0OS2v8AooUvlixAF6PGnO7zW2vWZyV-OoST2Mkcqkz99zL1Zs5gmJkWFaK2wYscJIYcB-XMFiA5WwHbRlCZ6lWCtTgIjIo/s320/Christmas+1965+with+color+tv.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Kent, our Beagle King, Wendy & I</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Aunts,
uncles, grandparents, friends, and co-workers would pass through that front
door for parties, holidays, and summer gatherings. Christmas was our favorite
holiday because mom always over did it with presents and Dad would complain
that she was driving him to the poor house. When I think of my dad, I picture
him sitting in his recliner, smoking Winstons, eating his Bridgemix and reading
a book, if he wasn’t watching our new color television, the cause of one of my
parents’ biggest arguments that left them not speaking for days and put us
three kids on our best behavior because one thing we never doubted, even
through the bad times was the great love our parents had for each other. I may
have doubted my dad’s love for me at times, but I never doubted that my parents
were <i>in </i>love.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsvGd1Ei4imLcgnzEaaN_S7uP7f_2nnLNhJpXwTAa0mE3NfannVLqc8YHkKVEB9A4y-er_286o-mkXy1TFf4OQesVhwYwrwqAUCILVfCD8goKYftZv4sjFmpX5iyOBnxbhyphenhyphendSDwaTzeno/s1600/Mom+Vera+and+me+on+the+porch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsvGd1Ei4imLcgnzEaaN_S7uP7f_2nnLNhJpXwTAa0mE3NfannVLqc8YHkKVEB9A4y-er_286o-mkXy1TFf4OQesVhwYwrwqAUCILVfCD8goKYftZv4sjFmpX5iyOBnxbhyphenhyphendSDwaTzeno/s320/Mom+Vera+and+me+on+the+porch.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Me with my mom and her sister Vera on our "porch"</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> When my
fights with Dad started, it was normal teenage fare, the whole unfairness of life.
Why couldn’t I ride in cars with my friends? Why did I need to be home at <i>that</i> hour? Why couldn’t I hang out at
the Tony’s Pizza Parlor? That’s when I became the cause of their arguments. Mom
wanted to give me more freedom; Dad didn’t. Mom said the reason Dad and I
fought was because we were too much alike. Dad said it wasn’t me he didn’t
trust; it was boys.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> After
leaving Hill Road, after deciding not to fight with my husband about stopping
at my parents’ house, we drove in silence and when we reached our two-room
apartment in Laconia, I trudged up the outside stairs, wanting to go back. We had
just entered the apartment when the phone rang. My husband answered it, then
handed the receiver to me.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> “Valerie,
this is Dr. Robinson. I’m sorry. Your dad is dead. He shot himself.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I screamed
and dropped the phone.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">My son Jason was born three months later. I never doubted I
was having a boy, even from the beginning. After Dad died, I was even more convinced
it would be boy. I don’t remember picking out a girl’s name, although I know we
did.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Jason looks
uncannily like his grandfather and has his wicked sense of humor and wit, his
mannerisms, his work ethic, his sense of responsibility, but thankfully no
health problems. I think my dad would have loved him. Or, would the two of them
been too much alike and rubbed each other the wrong way? I don’t know.</span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpY0XNcqWuOu_cYNh1n0tqrRpG0pg5hV9U2mcT6rCbXpzYZOFrL_dGSH0ePMzjpBu580KOB7ohM3aiRYoWPRAfkXcO0WdM_Px-0uHRnG7sSj7Lt-COL_3tvJkSCpIcSR7NpIrECQmKoeU/s1600/Mom%2527s+testimonial.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpY0XNcqWuOu_cYNh1n0tqrRpG0pg5hV9U2mcT6rCbXpzYZOFrL_dGSH0ePMzjpBu580KOB7ohM3aiRYoWPRAfkXcO0WdM_Px-0uHRnG7sSj7Lt-COL_3tvJkSCpIcSR7NpIrECQmKoeU/s320/Mom%2527s+testimonial.jpg" width="259" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mom and Dad</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> My dad was
responsible right up to the end. On the day he died, he bought a new license
and tags for the dog, made sure there was enough paint for one of us kids to
finish the garage, and went to the barber for a haircut. He told mom all this
in a letter he left, including letting mom know was no suicide clause in the
insurance policy. The letter glows with his great love and adoration for my
mom. He didn’t want to be a burden on the family and knew the way it was going,
he would be. He included a p.s. to me, saying he was sorry he wouldn’t be there
to see his first grandchild and, to the end, tried for humor by writing he
hoped we wouldn’t give our baby his middle name, Horace.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Our family
still carries on his insistence of having manners, table manners being high on
his list: elbows off the table, sit up straight, slow down. Dad would often
say, “Don’t eat like your mother,” meaning the English way with knife and fork
reversed and fork piled high.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> But this is
also a man who sometimes did not eat what mom served for dinner, instead breaking
Saltines into a bowl of milk after a day of working outside in the heat and
humidity. He ate slowly, chewed each bite over and over, driving us kids crazy.
This kind of control extended to the way he raised us. When he couldn’t control
us and we fought him, he’d punish. “You might not love me,” he said once, “but
one day you’ll respect me.” He was wrong. All I really wanted was to love him
and be loved back, but he was a hard man to please and he took my rebellion
personally.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I have
grandchildren now and, if I lavish them with love, it’s because sometimes all a
teen needs is a hug and a “It will be okay. You’ll get through this.” Many
times my fights with my dad might not have happened if I hadn’t felt judged and
shamed, if I hadn’t felt my emotions being negated by a parental need to be perceived as in control and being seen as a perfect family.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Don’t get
me wrong. I’m not kidding myself here. Teens have their emotional needs and
drives that often supersede anything parents can provide. Guiding teens through
their teens is probably the hardest job there is as a parent because they’re
competing with peers and hormones. Dad had two more children coming up fast
behind me and I’m sure that crossed his mind as we battled and he grew more ill.</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin0Hl9_ywcuWQjlUg3CZHe2toor7EU1fNx6A1MAXL6hiIeIELRhjQv0LMGmgmODMafVqhHeI-pQbnpngY6IAtakbDBh_FTrjiyGGTg-ltt3SbBeGd82kuI-Au4C_BRzXMAYw50-pqMXhw/s1600/Dad+at+hunting+cabin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin0Hl9_ywcuWQjlUg3CZHe2toor7EU1fNx6A1MAXL6hiIeIELRhjQv0LMGmgmODMafVqhHeI-pQbnpngY6IAtakbDBh_FTrjiyGGTg-ltt3SbBeGd82kuI-Au4C_BRzXMAYw50-pqMXhw/s320/Dad+at+hunting+cabin.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dad</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> And he was ill, more than I knew. He battled rheumatoid arthritis and prescription pills, and was
unable to work toward the end. The only way out for him, as he concluded, was suicide. He did
what he thought was the responsible thing, plus it would end his pain and
sense of powerless. In his besieged mine, the only way our family would survive
would be if he didn’t become a bigger financial and medical burden. I don't doubt that that indeed would have happened.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Yet on the day
he died, he didn’t realize he exchanged those possible burdens on us for bigger, emotional
ones.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Time has
given me perspective and knowledge of suicide. Time has given me an
understanding of how a need for control can also cause a loss of control. Some have said to me that suicide is the ultimate show of control, but I don't believe that in my dad's case that's true. If he hadn't been ill, he would have never given up. But when he couldn't be the husband and father he wanted to be, needed to be, he couldn't fake it anymore. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Time has
also, above all, shown me that perception should never overshadow love. I don’t
care what others think about what my family goes through. We all have problems
and I choose to be friends with people who share them and exchange knowledge so
we can help out each other. The generation of our parents living in a “keeping
up with the Joneses” and “what will the neighbors think” culture better be over
because they’re faulty paradigms and destructive on so many levels, especially
for a writer like myself who was conditioned to keep a lid on everything of importance and has had to fight to be free and express myself truthfully.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXb2FooH0OmgaeupPJB1z9vb_Z80CAoBKYoSiWLyFIP4pR1Lv4Sp-_Cc_Yl4QWSDDnd9OLp8D3M6cxMPHObPJ_HhXVWVv9kH3yxDx8vXEF4UARDcqNbdMqgGRiepiJu_YrTiUN2eh03-w/s1600/Kent+and+I+in+snow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXb2FooH0OmgaeupPJB1z9vb_Z80CAoBKYoSiWLyFIP4pR1Lv4Sp-_Cc_Yl4QWSDDnd9OLp8D3M6cxMPHObPJ_HhXVWVv9kH3yxDx8vXEF4UARDcqNbdMqgGRiepiJu_YrTiUN2eh03-w/s320/Kent+and+I+in+snow.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Kent and I in snow</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> A few days
ago, Mom said to me on the phone, “I wonder what our life would have been like if your dad had lived.”
I couldn’t say. I couldn’t imagine it. I hope she visualized something sweet
and carefree, something that, like in an act of creating fiction, she formed in
her mind while erasing sickness, lack of money, a crazy political world that would have turned my dad apoplectic. I hope
she saw her and Dad, retired by the lake, him fishing, her reading or talking
on the phone. Maybe they even hold hands while sitting in chairs on the dock. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiayR4qmAz5UWXyuMbCKg1A1tUfFnBcz5g8MieYKyB2M58S-U2Ey-nkbbZV2n7LHpQPyVLSE4sMnGNpThgU9NkcrS233QX671iMw5GZbefHr2vTu3QPbTqs1JsV3AXFpE_vY2b_Q4bOwkM/s1600/Poppy+or+Memorial+Day+1961.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiayR4qmAz5UWXyuMbCKg1A1tUfFnBcz5g8MieYKyB2M58S-U2Ey-nkbbZV2n7LHpQPyVLSE4sMnGNpThgU9NkcrS233QX671iMw5GZbefHr2vTu3QPbTqs1JsV3AXFpE_vY2b_Q4bOwkM/s320/Poppy+or+Memorial+Day+1961.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Poppy day or Memorial Day around 1961</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">But maybe they would still be attending their American Legion activities, maybe still dancing as they always did so beautifully. I
think she can create that in her mind, create her own story for a life they'd live now. I
doubt very much that they would have ended up in Florida where she now lives. I
think he’d had enough of hot and humid. But maybe<i>,</i> after shoveling snow one hard winter,<i> </i>he'd have been happy to join the snowbirds. Why not?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">* * * * *</span> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I remember
one winter day after a storm had dumped a foot or more of snow. Dad was out
shoveling the walkway and I was playing on one of those high snow mounds the
snowplow had left along the road. I dug a hole, probably one of those “digging to
China” holes, and I dug it so deep, I couldn’t get out. When I realized this, I
yelled over and over, “Dad! Dad!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> When he
finally heard me, he walked up the mound, looked down, shook his head and
laughed. Then he reached down for my hand and lifted me out.</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMpaJ3KsbiDBqcGk7tLLN4i2fYUy4qc_C6b813rPzXuFSBUjxhWWEMjcySoAn6uBDHRQ5xNunPGJyS-fpH9CA7STe181NibGkPqHlmUNA7GezOsVUn9-E6Tb0UKVmtjxxlrD2vINNYlRM/s1600/With+Nannie+Smith+Mom+and+Dad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMpaJ3KsbiDBqcGk7tLLN4i2fYUy4qc_C6b813rPzXuFSBUjxhWWEMjcySoAn6uBDHRQ5xNunPGJyS-fpH9CA7STe181NibGkPqHlmUNA7GezOsVUn9-E6Tb0UKVmtjxxlrD2vINNYlRM/s320/With+Nannie+Smith+Mom+and+Dad.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dad, my mom's mom Nannie Smith holding me, and Mom</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">In Loving Memory</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Albert Horace Brooks ~ April 3, 1916 to April 30, 1970.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>Valerie Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03974801169865595635noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971026925134956743.post-62559827484982144892012-04-19T09:47:00.000-07:002012-04-19T09:47:51.231-07:00Why I Haven’t Blogged in Over Two Months<style>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
First, my
heartfelt thanks to all of you who responded to my last post, “Being Cheryl
Strayed.” You energized me. You made me believe in myself again and my writing.
When I read your comments, I wanted to reach out and hug you all and let you
know how much I believe in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">you</i>. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I hope you’re all still digging
deep for that authentic self, the one you always carry, the one that sometimes
gets layered over with other people’s expectations, perceptions, and needs. The
one that gets lost in our modern world, the world that keeps us so distracted
we forget who we are and what makes us powerful creative beings. A toast to all
of us.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOm5JgBTUsZ9u9QWFb8BQ85w2nyjXaBCiUXtPST5Zob4A2HuYBFEuIblK8bH_ZGYUM9aRg5Z9MknwmM2gOGk9ATonyfzY3H8EG3SJ7jy9jxITb81ik6ANQj8SZwwyK2UpKWZk_4CMlnUY/s1600/celebrate.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOm5JgBTUsZ9u9QWFb8BQ85w2nyjXaBCiUXtPST5Zob4A2HuYBFEuIblK8bH_ZGYUM9aRg5Z9MknwmM2gOGk9ATonyfzY3H8EG3SJ7jy9jxITb81ik6ANQj8SZwwyK2UpKWZk_4CMlnUY/s200/celebrate.png" width="144" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now to tell
you what happened after I wrote my last post. And it wasn’t what I expected,
not by a long shot.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I truly expected to have a mega
burst of creative energy. I was raw, open, and a little scared, but raring to
go, especially to finish my novel.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Instead, I
found myself drop kicked to the ground. I just couldn’t get up. I couldn’t find
the energy to write, to keep up with my responsibilities, to even be excited
about the novel. What was wrong? What was happening? When I finally dragged
myself to my feet and examined myself, I had a whole new problem to figure out and
another layer to dig through. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was
morning, a few weeks after the last blog post when I dragged myself out of bed
and realized I was anxious and depressed. I’m not one to be depressed. It’s
just not me. I took my usual half hour to wake up, my usual easing into the
day. Dan was downstairs, drinking his coffee and reading the paper. He knows
not to talk to me first thing and woe is he who asks, “What should we have for
dinner tonight?”</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixOmRU3RlIF84tI1H_8Y7OP5J2mlZaHv33A_5tDlBDUJWmyeFoYDTKfmKkD1GtB_pGSQFHWTotAxOIQutSLjTv2NqS68tAk_a-14MaJuB12l_2BywlospUhVURFxztOSanx9rSq71JEoY/s1600/technicolor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixOmRU3RlIF84tI1H_8Y7OP5J2mlZaHv33A_5tDlBDUJWmyeFoYDTKfmKkD1GtB_pGSQFHWTotAxOIQutSLjTv2NqS68tAk_a-14MaJuB12l_2BywlospUhVURFxztOSanx9rSq71JEoY/s200/technicolor.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I stumbled
around, heated water for tea, and tried to remember what my last thoughts were
before I fell asleep and what I’d dreamed about. I often use sleep and dreams to
solve problems. When I’m fully in tune with myself (happy, excited,
adventurous, expectant), I go to bed with a story problem and sometimes wake up
with a solution. My dreams are vivid, Technicolor, intense, full story dreams
with a beginning, middle and end. Sometimes they are simply stories. Sometimes
they are a collage of recent personal events and fears, or my fears for the
world. Before 911, I had, like many people did, dreams of being in a tall
building that was crumbling around me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But that
morning I couldn’t remember anything about my dreams or what I’d wanted to
process before I fell asleep. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaSNat8fqDM8ya1otyLVq2BAW6RWA2CCZ6zHBsvpf24Q4pqPa0ArpJU80Ww2sHTOdvu_43ysEhJYBZXaelh15qnMblcfoORkioV05ZQz-4U8wJIdIGS6YJqhAmrQaHo7BC305WH6GAk1U/s1600/tea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="157" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaSNat8fqDM8ya1otyLVq2BAW6RWA2CCZ6zHBsvpf24Q4pqPa0ArpJU80Ww2sHTOdvu_43ysEhJYBZXaelh15qnMblcfoORkioV05ZQz-4U8wJIdIGS6YJqhAmrQaHo7BC305WH6GAk1U/s200/tea.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
While my tea brewed, I wiped down
the sink, put dishes away from the night before, and read part of the paper
standing up at the counter. I grabbed pencil and paper and wrote down a few
groceries we needed. My fuzzy morning brain was waking up, but I wasn’t happy.
I plunked down on the kitchen stool. When <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">was
</i>the last time I was happy in the morning? When had I last woke up feeling
excited, adventurous, expectant? I couldn’t remember.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Okay, the best way to push through
all this was to prepare for the day. I flipped to a new sheet of paper and
decided to write down what I would do that day. I started a list:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Write a blog post.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Then it came back to me, what I’d
gone to bed mulling over and worrying about—I could not come up with a subject
to blog about.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I’d never had a problem writing
this blog. Never. I did think about what my readers would find interesting, but
for the most part, my topics came from what I found interesting. Readers would
find it worth reading or not. Sure, I worried about execution, the old “Can I
pull this off? Or will I sound like an idiot?” I didn’t worry too much about
the last part. I’ve sounded like an idiot before and it didn’t kill me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Okay. So the problem was a topic
for the blog. Easy then. Quit trying so hard. I could do a follow up to the reader
comments from the last entry. I’d take the “Being Cheryl Strayed” to another
level. I wrote that down on my list. I could write about my decision to drop
the pirate persona, how I now found it tedious, and I’d explain why.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Nah, that wasn’t even interesting.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I took a deep breath. My mind was
all over the place with ideas but I just couldn’t get excited about any of them.
Okay, don’t panic. I’d set that aside for the moment. I would make a list of
everything I needed to do and start working on that. Crossing things off a list
was always therapeutic. I wrote:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i>Check your Facebook page because you’ve
let that go. </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i>You forgot to check ValinParis
account for comments. </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i>Post the Cheryl Strayed piece to
Women Writing the West Yahoo users group.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i>Set up Hootsuite; need to follow hashtag
groups. </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i>Goodreads—woefully out of date!</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i>Go through all your email; needs
attention!</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i>Respond to SheWrites messages and
post to groups.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i>Write the column for Books By the
Bed.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I set the pencil down. I felt a
little sick. I stared at the list.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Internet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Internet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Internet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Internet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Internet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Internet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Internet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Internet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I took my now cold tea to my
writing room and stood there, looking at my library of novels and reference books,
the stacks of literary magazines and the binders full of research. A partial
manuscript was tucked in my laptop bag with all my revision notes.</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvhY6Ks7KJOtvhP9Ir6LhPUJ_cqpC37SX-tz8deR71XLJtBBP37Ocev7IZnW2-EooYFefPLu0UobSdzfnaeP24wpSjDDN-GQyIU91pJq2QgcgPbjBife8i1CFSE_NGgVtwNNNWQ-nI7u8/s1600/Writing+room.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvhY6Ks7KJOtvhP9Ir6LhPUJ_cqpC37SX-tz8deR71XLJtBBP37Ocev7IZnW2-EooYFefPLu0UobSdzfnaeP24wpSjDDN-GQyIU91pJq2QgcgPbjBife8i1CFSE_NGgVtwNNNWQ-nI7u8/s320/Writing+room.JPG" width="228" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reading area in my writing room</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
What used to make me happy,
excited, adventurous, expectant was writing. Writing fiction. Why wasn’t I
devoting every waking—and sleeping—moment to finishing my novel? That’s what I
used to fall asleep with—characters, story, plot problems, structure
possibilities. I know I can’t do that all the time, but I remember when I’d
wake up in that fuzzy first hour, noodling ideas and excited about perhaps a
scene I needed to finish.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Internet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Internet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Internet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Internet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Internet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Internet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Internet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Internet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
That’s why I couldn’t move,
couldn’t be excited, was depressed. I’d been letting all this online networking
and social media—creating a web presence, as they call it—take over. What was
the use of having all this “presence” if I didn’t have a finished novel? What
good did it do anyway? Who were these people who said you <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">had </i>to have a web presence if you wanted to be an author? Who were
these gurus who insisted that this new world of publishing demanded an author
FB/Tweet/blog/Google+/Klout/Pinterest, etc.?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPLW9x6CU3V-7e1zWxfdzXJswI6S14ZBM3neYMBcHO4VwsZ_5GyVYBt-qNHRZcKjhyLR24Mh836AEuz4IpMNKHs2zS5YLT6CfCK0piVc6EVKBI2N2-5JOk2rQaKIS1UYoN9HZmzY2yd1I/s1600/Puritan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPLW9x6CU3V-7e1zWxfdzXJswI6S14ZBM3neYMBcHO4VwsZ_5GyVYBt-qNHRZcKjhyLR24Mh836AEuz4IpMNKHs2zS5YLT6CfCK0piVc6EVKBI2N2-5JOk2rQaKIS1UYoN9HZmzY2yd1I/s200/Puritan.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I drank my cold tea and pushed away
that old Puritan who said, “How dare you question authority.” What authority, I
asked? I used to work in advertising and marketing. I understood the old <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">caveat emptor</i> warning. So I asked myself,
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Who is selling us on the idea of all this
social media and internet marketing? </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I don’t begrudge anyone the opportunity
to recognize a need and create a service to fill that need. They have to make a
living and they<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> do</i> give away lots of
good info before asking you to buy something. I subscribe to three of these social
media gurus e-newsletters, so I asked myself, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What roped me in</i>?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Use of their urgent language? Use of their
authoritative tone? The fear of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">not</i>
doing it?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
“If you don’t do this, you won’t
succeed.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Well, maybe. But does anyone have
the numbers to prove this? Sure, I want to be successful. I want to be ready
for the moment when my book is published. But what price am I paying?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If I’m sacrificing
my happiness, my creativity, the immersion time I need to write, if I don’t
have time anymore to read other novels, why bother? I’d even dragged these
demands to Colonyhouse retreats because when you’re on that many sites, you
have to keep up on a daily basis. You have to get online and be “present.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">No</i>, I said to myself that morning. Not
if it means you can’t be fully present in your writing. In that wonderful
creative half-awake state that morning, not once had I thought about my novel.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not once.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I had to do something drastic.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
So I did. I dropped all my social
media activities and went on a blog hiatus. Just like that. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Once again, I was back in the land
of the writer. I went to bed with my novel, woke up with it, noodled it in the
car, devoted myself to it for a month, and fell in love again. The novel grew
stronger and deeper with this immersion; the writing was some of my best. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I finished April 1, the deadline
I’d first set for myself, and that’s not an April Fool’s joke. The novel is now
out with five readers and I’m happier than I’ve been in … damn, I can’t
remember when. Probably sometime before I dove into the social media. Even Dan has
commented on how much happier I seem.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I've heard the argument for balancing both, limiting my time online, giving myself
one hour in the evening, etc. etc. But let’s be honest. How many of you have
been online for an hour? It’s more along the lines of look at the clock and
gasp because three hours have gone by. And never mind trying to return to your
writing, fully present in that. No, you’re concentration, that precious
immersion in story, has been infected. With internet. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As many of
you know, the gift of being a writer is the joy of noodling an idea, slurping
it around the mouth, playing with the creative food. It’s about immersion. When
I’m writing, even the bad days are good. Even when I’m writing drivel, the days
are better than anything else.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz4rGsYCXNFz0h0Z7zJ_1PlISR_rECD_U1mB-KcXONyyGWYKDCqCBHc9rTmDwRGN_Z_Vwx2uP0gx4jl3y_xSvDdGmRQmacI_iWjsI1e_s8zUu7Dj1hGde6UbrisWJOpf9F03V-sc8NWLM/s1600/Joy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz4rGsYCXNFz0h0Z7zJ_1PlISR_rECD_U1mB-KcXONyyGWYKDCqCBHc9rTmDwRGN_Z_Vwx2uP0gx4jl3y_xSvDdGmRQmacI_iWjsI1e_s8zUu7Dj1hGde6UbrisWJOpf9F03V-sc8NWLM/s1600/Joy.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I did have
pangs of guilt for not being on all those internet sites I’d joined. But it
didn’t depress me or make me anxious. After the novel was done, I decided to
clear up my writing room, weed out saved articles and old magazines. Spring was
in the air and I like order. As I went through articles I had saved, I came
across one that took away any residual guilt about my dropping out from the
internet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
The article, <a href="http://www.pw.org/content/inner_space_clearing_some_room_for_inspiration_0?cmnt_all=1" target="_blank">“Inner Space: Clearing Some Room for Inspiration,”</a> by Frank Bures examines the same problem I’d been
dealing with and that many creative people face. When I was online every day to
do my social media, I had what Bures admitted he developed, what researcher
Linda Stone calls “continuous partial attention.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Continuous partial attention.</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU4tyBJ6R7H_nB-8WtJSGcorE9MkAcUtpSgqk90zJuVrW_7m1YeDZd6UUK3f_jHvrLezYhqj07KxYPJVIMvQcsnazCElC1T2ruhpSEJAYLs9XIfNLQBGtQf9lVhsME308uUL75wwty4mc/s1600/WMS+sandbar2+10-23-02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU4tyBJ6R7H_nB-8WtJSGcorE9MkAcUtpSgqk90zJuVrW_7m1YeDZd6UUK3f_jHvrLezYhqj07KxYPJVIMvQcsnazCElC1T2ruhpSEJAYLs9XIfNLQBGtQf9lVhsME308uUL75wwty4mc/s320/WMS+sandbar2+10-23-02.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lake Winnisquam</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Ping! I couldn’t stay in the story
or daydream or be in the warm fuzzy creative space upon waking. My focus was
chopped up into too many small bites. I yearned for my childhood days when I
would spend hours sitting under a tree beside Lake Winnisquam, making up
stories that I’d spin into words later on paper.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Don’t get me wrong. I’m organized.
I have systems. I keep great files. I’m pretty good at time management.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
This, however, is something
entirely different. Overuse of the internet slices and dices your brain. It
damages your focus, your <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">creative
headspace.</i> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
So here we are in this modern tech
age when we are expected to be online every day to create a presence and it’s
rupturing the connection to our creativity? And what of our writerly isolation
and prolonged sitting? (Lots of new info on how dangerous that is.) I know I have
even more reason to limit that “online presence.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I do love my online communities,
the amazing, helpful, wonderful people, the great resources. But I will from
now on be absent when writing and promise to give you a heads up.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
And yes, I finished my novel. Relief!
Happiness! Fulfillment!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEERmbQJSmP6nrsv15hLgr6pe6lxRRskvPvmHo6dpmnp9VFkBeFKcDkGKbyoeaaQsNFnMzZl0ykGvhA2coxJYqzhy3ujK1X0xip8pzDFa9Q_-UUJwqER26cpL09gyV8vvI-Bj-RBw_to4/s1600/creative+energy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEERmbQJSmP6nrsv15hLgr6pe6lxRRskvPvmHo6dpmnp9VFkBeFKcDkGKbyoeaaQsNFnMzZl0ykGvhA2coxJYqzhy3ujK1X0xip8pzDFa9Q_-UUJwqER26cpL09gyV8vvI-Bj-RBw_to4/s1600/creative+energy.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
For fun—after the novel was done—I
ran the first page of it through the website <a href="http://iwl.me/" target="_blank"><b>“I Write Like</b></a> …” and came up with
David Foster Wallace. Yes, go ahead and play with the site. Drop a chunk of
your writing into the box and see who pops up. I wanted my writing to be like
Margaret Atwood’s, but David’s would definitely do.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I’m celebrating, both the finish of
my novel and my new freedom. You’ve been with me for almost a year and a half, given
me support and courage, and for that <b style="color: #cc0000;">I’m giving away a copy of Cheryl’s memoir </b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><b style="color: #cc0000;">Wild.</b> </i>If you leave a comment, your name
goes into the hat. Either use the comment box or send to the ValinParis email.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Also, <b style="color: #cc0000;">I would love to have your
reactions to my story</b><span style="color: #cc0000;">.</span> Do you have similar stories and concerns? What are they?
Have you experienced a negative effect on your writing from being on the
internet? Or not? I’m really curious. I know we have to market our books once
they’re published, but is all this social media necessary and does it work?
What do you refuse to do? What do you think is really necessary? How do you
make those decisions?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Thanks again for being there, for
reading this. Please join the conversation. In the meantime, ask yourself this:
what is running around inside your head when you wake up? Does it make you
happy or anxious? Why?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
And for your information, I won’t
be blogging weekly. I’ll blog when I’m inspired and want to reach out to you. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
Until then, hugs all ‘round.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
Val</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
p.s. If anyone heard the NPR Morning Edition story about this same subject/issue, please let me know when you heard it and if there's a link to it. I didn't hear it, but was told about it. Thanks!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
Also, if you're interested, check out the books I'm reading, Books Beside the Bed, at <a href="http://wewantedtobewriters.com/2012/03/books-by-valerie-brooks-bed/" target="_blank"><b>We Wanted to Be Writers.<i> </i></b></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
<br /></div>Valerie Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03974801169865595635noreply@blogger.com36tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971026925134956743.post-90661344238542859232012-02-16T11:58:00.000-08:002012-02-22T13:42:50.658-08:00Confession: Being Cheryl Strayed<style>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
My confession— </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is the most difficult blog post I’ve written so far.
It’s about being emotionally naked as a writer. It’s about being vulnerable.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I hate that.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I swore to myself I wouldn’t post it until I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">was </i>naked on the page although I gave
myself some leeway: it didn’t matter if the piece had flaws or awkward prose;
it didn’t matter if I stumbled; it only mattered that I let go. This time I
needed to truly examine myself. On the page. For the whole world to see.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is my humble and terrifying attempt.</div>
<div style="border: medium none; padding: 0in 0in 1pt; text-align: center;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;">
* * * * * *</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXHyYkc3fN-NF0P2HIhYzgevRXvHHJ6-Nug5oYgq23Vn-UMgV11lt0FBQmyFEmZ0hRR8jeuYEn_9xcQ70qvrZpXqJpnzjrszYleK54tzqzyjd1pDEvbzyTmQq7_UBiWDt_g11Ox9pxh3k/s1600/cover_issue_321.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXHyYkc3fN-NF0P2HIhYzgevRXvHHJ6-Nug5oYgq23Vn-UMgV11lt0FBQmyFEmZ0hRR8jeuYEn_9xcQ70qvrZpXqJpnzjrszYleK54tzqzyjd1pDEvbzyTmQq7_UBiWDt_g11Ox9pxh3k/s1600/cover_issue_321.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
About a month ago, my Litchix crewmate Chris Scofield sent a
link to an essay in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Sun </i>magazine.
I remembered reading Cheryl Strayed’s story “The Love of My life” years ago
when it was first published. I remembered thinking at the time, “How can she love
her mother like a lover? How is that possible?” I remembered feeling a little
sick and sad for her. I remembered being a little repulsed. But I never forgot
that story, and I’ve read everything of hers since, including her novel <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Torch.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This time, after rereading, I felt sad for me. I’d been
writing for over twenty years and couldn’t get a novel published. Cheryl at
twenty-three sent her first short story to a contest, won first prize, sent a
copy of the story to Alice Munro—yes, that Alice Munro—and Alice wrote back
within two weeks, ending her letter with "I wasn't writing nearly so well at your age."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I printed out “The Love of My Life” and read it six more
times. I underlined. I highlighted. I sat with it. I carried it with me, as if by
osmosis I could find the secret to writing like her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I highlighted her first sentence:</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal">
“The first time I cheated on my husband, my mother had been
dead for exactly one week.”</div>
</blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I highlighted and underlined the paragraph’s last sentence:</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I was raw, fragile, vicious with grief. I would do anything.”</div>
</blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Raw. Fragile. Vicious.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’d been there.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I would do anything.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Pause. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Had I been there?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I would not do anything. Emotions did not control me. I
controlled emotions. By suppressing them.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And there it was. Years of conditioning. Years of growing up
in New Hampshire where never exposing yourself or your emotions was considered
a strength. If you did, there were consequences. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I remember my brother the day after my dad shot himself. The
police came to the house with the gun. My brother started crying. The
policeman, still holding the gun, said, “Stop crying. You’re the man of the
house now.” And Kent stopped crying. Has he cried since? Probably. Has he fully
grieved my dad? I have no idea. For me it took twenty years and the death of my
two dogs to crack me open. Months of crying, sometimes sobbing until I felt
sick. But the grief finally turned to a manageable level and eventually
disappeared. I did this by myself, sometimes in bed next to my husband.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But those years of conditioning, of being the oldest, the
caregiver, kept my emotions bottled up. Oh, I acted out, fought against the
strict rules and unfairness of my parents’ world, but that’s a normal reaction
to parents who rule by reward and punishment. I wanted to be good girl, but in
this case, it was impossible to live up to the standards without being lobotomized.
It was dangerous to show emotions, too, so I went head on with my folks,
thwarting their rules. My mom would prefer to forget those teenage rebellious
acts and prefers me as a little girl. As mom puts it still, “You were always
such a good girl. When you were upset, you went to your room and closed the
door.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Closed the door.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yes, I did.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6gxgTmUMxgSg_iKytRcBBpcMUEcyt8E4ThTLKYEWY_exaI_cTRj-XiLiOfRRNhe1Bu6mw21Ndd6dSVNes8WUCglUZPZq_BIqRI1LZcc7MQkDcP8qdfoj8mJbhh8brJ5GhftPnfu-w8UM/s1600/strayed-author.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6gxgTmUMxgSg_iKytRcBBpcMUEcyt8E4ThTLKYEWY_exaI_cTRj-XiLiOfRRNhe1Bu6mw21Ndd6dSVNes8WUCglUZPZq_BIqRI1LZcc7MQkDcP8qdfoj8mJbhh8brJ5GhftPnfu-w8UM/s200/strayed-author.jpg" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cheryl Strayed</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So when I read Cheryl’s essay again, that door creaked open
a bit. I needed to see how I either compared to her or not. I had a life as
intense as hers, feelings as vicious. I suppose you could say that since my dad
gave or withheld love depending on my obedience, then getting pregnant by a
bi-polar, alcoholic Vietnam Vet with PTSD was an in-your-face act of rebellion.
Oh, I was madly in love with the guy. He did look like George Harrison. But
once my parents started talking to me again, we followed a pretty standard path—marriage,
work, living near my parents. Then my dad committed suicide. But I had a
husband who loved me. I soon had a baby to care for and love. My husband, in a
few years soon to be my ex, at the time proved himself worthy, helping the
family, shoring up my sister, being there for me. For a while, it seemed I had
done something good, accidentally good, but good nonetheless.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I turn back to Cheryl’s story. After her mother’s death, she
had sex with some risky, possibly dangerous characters. She destroyed her
marriage with a good man. She shot heroin. That’s how vicious her grief was.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Damn. Was I lacking? Did I not love my father enough? Did I
not show my grief enough? Did I actually have enough grief?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Some would say I was simply trying to replace a father who
didn’t know how to love by finding someone who could, someone who would accept
me without conditions on my behavior. But as they say, love is blind. What they
should say is youth is blind. I wanted to live and love. Cheryl wanted to join
her mother. She wanted to die. At least that’s how I see it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thankfully, she didn’t. But the risks she took were outside
anything I could take. Her grief drove her there. My grief drove me in a different direction. Different roads, different drivers.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Perhaps the key to our differences is this—I lost someone
every year of high school. My best friend’s mother. The neighbor boy. A
girlfriend’s brother whom I had a crush on. My best friend, Diane. I knew grief
in many different forms. I’d grown up with death.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
My dad’s death the year after I graduated made me want to
save people. My ex husband. My sister. Friends. I would not lose one more
person.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So what prevents me from writing about this? Where’s the
rawness, the fragility, the viciousness of Cheryl’s grief in my writing? What am
I afraid of? Am I afraid that I’ll hurt someone? Am I afraid of divulging someone’s
secrets or showing them in a negative light? No. Not really. Writing with heart and empathy prevents this. Writing about our lives is not about vendetta
or judgment, and Cheryl and I both write without those. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7SvkUR-bmqqe9VEbm25-AzOnJVG-sPnKXC-cTy-aO5pzsS51jkd-3wK2xol3hSEab3OlkMNfVaK5e82Kg-C8FhhnBlbtVAyC13VSjRUrT7i2Khm53S6lT77MPw2zFiaxdSFqAs_bppfs/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7SvkUR-bmqqe9VEbm25-AzOnJVG-sPnKXC-cTy-aO5pzsS51jkd-3wK2xol3hSEab3OlkMNfVaK5e82Kg-C8FhhnBlbtVAyC13VSjRUrT7i2Khm53S6lT77MPw2zFiaxdSFqAs_bppfs/s200/images.jpg" width="146" /></a></div>
I ask myself again, "What am I afraid of?" Truthfully, nothing. Anyone
who knows me can attest to that. I can write about my father who shot himself
in the family Oldsmobile out in the woods at his favorite hunting spot. He left
a letter. He bought dog tags that day and got a haircut. He loved my mother
with the love of a teenage boy. The night he died, I curled up with my husband
and cried myself to sleep. My brother was probably left alone now that he was
the man of the family. My mother slipped into my sister’s bed, curled up
against her, and cried all night, and many nights for years to come.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And then we went on. I’m sure we were back at work or school
within two weeks. I was one month short of nineteen, newly married, and six
months pregnant. My brother was seventeen, my sister thirteen, mom forty-seven.
We went back to the lives we were living before dad died.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cheryl says that everyone tries to help you through your
grief by telling stories that are similar. I doubt if anyone told her a story
where they went out and fucked every available man or tried heroin, but I bet
there are stories just as intense. What makes Cheryl’s story so different is in
the telling, is in the way she puts you in her shoes and doesn’t apologize and
at the same time seems just as surprised by her actions as the reader does. She
could not imagine a life without her mother. She wanted to die. That’s how she
handled her emotions.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hers was the cry of a child. I picture a three year old
abandoned on the street in a strange town, and it’s raining. She screams. She
screams out to those walking past and grabs their legs. She won’t let go. And
when one pushes her away, she grabs another and another until somewhere amongst
all those people asks “Where’s your family?” She didn’t have any. No other family
members appear in her stories. She has nowhere to turn, so she decides to hike
the Pacific Coast Trail. A pilgrimage of sorts? Another risky, do or die act? Yes.
Another physical act that walks/hikes/sweats away her grief. She’s written
about it in her new memoir <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Wild</i>, out
in March. Will she ever put her mother’s ghost to rest? I don’t know. Maybe her
mother’s gift is the gift of story. Maybe that’s what she gave Cheryl by dying
young. Her mother became her muse.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Cheryl reading a funny/hairaising bit from WILD </div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And me? Well, I’ve come to the conclusion that what I write about
is different from Cheryl. I take risks, I’m not afraid about what my family or
friends think, but I rub up against life in my own way. I, too, had sex with
lots of men after my divorce from, as Cheryl would write it, the Bi-polar
Vietnam Vet George Harrison Look Alike. But I had sex because I was free of my
family and could do it my way. I liked having sex. I felt
empowered by it. As I remember either my dad or husband saying, “You never know
someone until you either work or sleep with them.” I’d say that’s true. Also, I
was looking for love and seeing who was out there. I knew their names, I asked
them questions about their lives, I had short relationships that didn’t work
out. But I remained friends with most of them. I sure as hell wasn’t going to
confuse love with just sex. So I took care of that. I wasn’t trying to find my
dad. I didn’t need another control freak, but I did want a man with a sense of
honor and humor. And I found him eventually.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As did Cheryl. She found a husband and had children and can
boast that she’s one of the finest writers alive. She did good. So did I. I
could leave it there, but it’s not about us. It’s about writers.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpUuMhuyKajmUF0ey33oz_-aibfIsGBypmUaz6aYFeZOpFMNHWHAvoZLen9uoaG4HOrI8S_jGTW0GdOrCd4SlxTb_6JrvY1V_Y81Ycc7Ny9mes3YGcO-Pi0Wlm4LVyahqGVxU8moQ_6Zo/s1600/cusumano.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpUuMhuyKajmUF0ey33oz_-aibfIsGBypmUaz6aYFeZOpFMNHWHAvoZLen9uoaG4HOrI8S_jGTW0GdOrCd4SlxTb_6JrvY1V_Y81Ycc7Ny9mes3YGcO-Pi0Wlm4LVyahqGVxU8moQ_6Zo/s1600/cusumano.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My essay about my relationship with my dad</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And you can see what we go through. The comparisons. The
constant re-examination. The lottery-like odds of winning a New York publishing
contract. I write novels and I can’t tell you why New York publishers haven’t
picked one up yet. I’ve won awards and residencies and have short pieces
published. But all this worry and comparison to Cheryl could be explained by
where I’m at now. I’m finishing a novel and once again, I’m putting myself out
there. Naked again. I’ve probably written this blog to work through my anxiety.
I’m sure I wrote this blog because Miss Gonna Be a Great Writer Who Is Loved By
Alice Munro showed up at the right time for me to use her. Sorry Cheryl. I do
adore your writing and you. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Trust the process,” everyone tells a writer. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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Yes, well, you can say that all
day to a writer, but in the end, you have to trust yourself. And that can be
the hardest part of the whole damn journey.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;">
Yours, as always,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;">
Captain Val </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;">
<br />
<b>Coming Up!</b><br />
Who the hell knows? I'm trying to finish a novel, for landlubber's sake!<br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>For more about Cheryl:</b><br />
Cheryl comes out as Sugar, the advice columnist on <a href="http://therumpus.net/2012/02/cheryl-strayed-is-sugar/"><i>The Rumpus</i></a><br />
Cheryl is featured in the <a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_596243314">March issue of </a><i><a href="http://www.vogue.com/culture/article/walking-the-walk-an-interview-with-cheryl-strayed-author-of-wild-from-lost-to-found-on-the-pacific-crest-trail-/">Vogue</a> </i><br />
Click here for <a href="http://www.cherylstrayed.com/index.htm">Cheryl's website</a></div>
</div>Valerie Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03974801169865595635noreply@blogger.com39tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971026925134956743.post-29823254516128275522012-01-31T21:26:00.000-08:002012-01-31T21:26:54.451-08:00The Muse is Back and Dishes Inspiration<style>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI-dL2_x3jMkusjrharOgIjpcf_riH5OM4ThRKqs_nqk4qJwoHlSsE0HaZ2Li2Mvvx0B2GA_DXqHbEGmstoSKqopNKCcVOeesdw6w9pY3MmlGZ4OBA9H8GMcCrLGVV_6dadcSu_wcuHG4/s1600/Sparrow+the+Muse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI-dL2_x3jMkusjrharOgIjpcf_riH5OM4ThRKqs_nqk4qJwoHlSsE0HaZ2Li2Mvvx0B2GA_DXqHbEGmstoSKqopNKCcVOeesdw6w9pY3MmlGZ4OBA9H8GMcCrLGVV_6dadcSu_wcuHG4/s320/Sparrow+the+Muse.jpg" width="211" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hello, everyone!
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Sparrow here, Captain Val’s muse. Thank
you for all the support you’ve given her lately and, new pirates, welcome aboard the Gobsmacked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I’m once again filling in for
Captain Val as she is a tad bit overwhelmed (taxes, polishing her novel, family, a
short trip to Ashland, and, well, life). For those who remember my last post
(<a href="http://gobsmackedwriter.blogspot.com/2011_09_18_archive.html">read it here</a>), she did apologize for calling me flighty. I’m not upset
anymore. She needs me. And what’s a muse for?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of course,
now I have to think of something muse-like to write about. As my role is to
inspire and sprinkle some kind of writerly fairy dust, I decided that perhaps
the lot of you could stand a little sparkle also. It’s January, it’s winter,
the holidays are over, and don’t you feel a little … well, just a smidgen in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">need</i>? of encouragement? of love? of
inspiration?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Good. Now
that’s settled, let’s start with a bit of humor, sent by Kathryn Lang and found at <a href="http://www.jasonlove.com/funny-cartoons/search-viewer.aspx?id=835">Jason Love’s website</a>.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSmqplHYJo5I-xrHfdaur5-DfILekh8-FME1_FkaVaqbODxZWUrIBMmBG-3ut7uKMl0sHhXKsDclyOaNuztjlIk6T6EZ4JfTvtYwEs5g_xQBxUEDHLGV7eZ4g6E32PQVGZQzKvxIsUemo/s1600/00847-funny-cartoons-writers.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSmqplHYJo5I-xrHfdaur5-DfILekh8-FME1_FkaVaqbODxZWUrIBMmBG-3ut7uKMl0sHhXKsDclyOaNuztjlIk6T6EZ4JfTvtYwEs5g_xQBxUEDHLGV7eZ4g6E32PQVGZQzKvxIsUemo/s320/00847-funny-cartoons-writers.gif" width="298" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Isn’t it refreshing to see that
writers <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">can</i> make fun of
themselves—well most of them. I do understand your angst. We all have it. But
if writing is like dealing with cancerous tumors, as one writer told Captain Val, stop writing and become a pilot or a nurse, anything that
gives you joy. Life is short!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now, onward to inspiration. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I am not a writer, just a muse. So I turn to others, your kin, with their words of wisdom. Think of what I offer as your very own
goody grab bag.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Let’s start at the beginning. 2012.
How did you approach the new year? Resolutions? A to-do list of all the things you want to fix or make or change? Now that we're in the year of the dragon, let's do something auspicious. Ellen
Goodman has a the right idea. </div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal">
"We spend January 1st
walking through our lives, room by room, drawing up a list of work to be done,
cracks to be patched. Maybe this year, to balance the list, we ought to walk
through the rooms of our lives ... not looking for flaws, but for potential."</div>
</blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Potential. I like that! Thank you Becky Green Aaronson for posting this.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Barbara Sullivan, Captain Val’s go to advisor on all things literary, uses
this idea of potential when guiding her through a rewrite. I paraphrase here:</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal">
Don’t look at what
isn’t working. Read through your novel. Look for and highlight all the
passages, scenes, descriptions that knock you out. The ones that cheer you as
in “I can’t believe I wrote that!” That’s the good stuff you want to tap. That
gives you the potential, the scaffolding, for everything else.</div>
</blockquote>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMzHoZoQ8lD2eiufFIWj4-nJXZehilm2CylaH1ER-ve3eZpHQtLOiZyhLqgWtfStwo5v2y1pL1BJiVjEYDk-QK3DdIl4wjN40lWJeVROZlCTigAvqzLXae7mG66zx32f3NdVJHlJvSemg/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMzHoZoQ8lD2eiufFIWj4-nJXZehilm2CylaH1ER-ve3eZpHQtLOiZyhLqgWtfStwo5v2y1pL1BJiVjEYDk-QK3DdIl4wjN40lWJeVROZlCTigAvqzLXae7mG66zx32f3NdVJHlJvSemg/s1600/images.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
Captain Val’s crewmate, Chris
Scofield, sent this quote from Josephine
Demott Robinson, a circus performer in the first half of the 20th century. Her
advice not to let failure deter you is sound and is the idea that you need to
encourage your efforts. Like the inferred note of self-assessment too, not so
bad, a little more practice and you'll get there, an applicable bit of
inspiration for everyone. For writers, this can be what you need during each
rewrite.</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
"Never mind if you fall far short of the thing you want to do, encourage
your effort. If no one else will say it to you, say it to yourself. ‘Not so
bad.’ It will make the next effort easier and better."</div>
</blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
Do you encourage your efforts? Do you give yourself credit for every growth jump you take? Captain Val doesn’t wait
to publish before she rewards herself. She rewards the levels of efforts it
takes to get there. If she finishes an application to a residency, she
celebrates. If she finishes a first draft, she celebrates. Every rewrite, every
move to the next professional level is cause for celebration according to her.
(Yes, she does like to celebrate!)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKNHo5b7Ob8L5yAM84mVMOyZioKu152fElWNZfgNDbeuIjWd5heDyuGBIDUw0Q-1e8MT54qhaGJvo6mpSes8WYF2FVbP3OzFUdhT0DSTHRYhf4-WGGEg3t6bzQ1oqFN4Zv17V3ld_lky4/s1600/Jack+Kerouac.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKNHo5b7Ob8L5yAM84mVMOyZioKu152fElWNZfgNDbeuIjWd5heDyuGBIDUw0Q-1e8MT54qhaGJvo6mpSes8WYF2FVbP3OzFUdhT0DSTHRYhf4-WGGEg3t6bzQ1oqFN4Zv17V3ld_lky4/s1600/Jack+Kerouac.jpg" /></a></div>
Another bit for those who love the
crazy free-spirited Jack Kerouac. In 1958, he wrote a letter to Don Allen and included a
30-point list of “essentials” that he titled “Belief and Technique for Modern
Prose.” You can read the entire list on <a href="http://www.listsofnote.com/2012/01/belief-and-technique-for-modern-prose.html">Lists of Note</a>, but here are numbers 14-17:</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·</span><span style="font-family: Times;"> Like Proust be an old teahead of time </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·</span><span style="font-family: Times;"> Telling the true story of the world in
interior monolog </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·</span><span style="font-family: Times;"> The jewel center of interest is the eye
within the eye </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·</span><span style="font-family: Times;"> Write in recollection and amazement for
yourself</span><br />
</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRnm5M3HTETL8iYaaShm2xNnkkkbfHfr7g5Ln1z3RUNKViKhB-7mycvlWBF2eKbj61j_-anPEWQu92O9DfA4WM8Ua5z9FqDv_xpScifntaMHoEQvlI3I-HEYXojlj-4Xr5fzLt7u2gVk8/s1600/Year+of+the+Dragon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRnm5M3HTETL8iYaaShm2xNnkkkbfHfr7g5Ln1z3RUNKViKhB-7mycvlWBF2eKbj61j_-anPEWQu92O9DfA4WM8Ua5z9FqDv_xpScifntaMHoEQvlI3I-HEYXojlj-4Xr5fzLt7u2gVk8/s1600/Year+of+the+Dragon.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
The ultimate inspiration for
February and the Year of the Dragon? Kristen Lamb’s treasure chest blog Warrior Writers offers “Three
Steps to Freedom: Grab Hold of your Brilliant Future.” What a title! And this
is not just for writers. <b>Everyone!</b> Read this. Please! Here’s a taste:</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
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This
blog is dedicated to helping writers holistically. We are more than robots
sitting at a desk pounding out word count. We have hopes, dreams, fears, bad
habits and baggage. …</div>
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<b><span style="font-weight: normal;">Three Lessons of Confession </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-weight: normal;">Confess the Real Emotion—Name It and Claim It</span></b></div>
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One of the first things that offered me a new sense of
empowerment was when I learned to confess the real emotion I was feeling.</div>
</blockquote>
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Click here to read this blog: <a href="http://warriorwriters.wordpress.com/2012/01/27/3-steps-to-freedom-grab-hold-of-your-brilliant-future/">Kristen Lamb’s WarriorWriters</a></div>
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<br /></div>
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Ah,
there’s my call to duty. Seems as if the Captain needs me for a few hours while
she polishes her novel.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrPXeg4OEzbctf4gutRTlcrTcniUOiaynJu9Q9i8V62SP3flVjm0SipitD9DJABsjVO9qMVqEoVX04Xwk3Iswii-vkdJ9RTDpkYw_OJkKuLjm_XZB-fbZJVYHkKpoKkBFwx6r2LGnt79E/s1600/girl+sad+angry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrPXeg4OEzbctf4gutRTlcrTcniUOiaynJu9Q9i8V62SP3flVjm0SipitD9DJABsjVO9qMVqEoVX04Xwk3Iswii-vkdJ9RTDpkYw_OJkKuLjm_XZB-fbZJVYHkKpoKkBFwx6r2LGnt79E/s320/girl+sad+angry.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My inner child at the moment</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
BUT
before I go, I want a word with the guy who wrote <a href="http://www.siriuspress.com/studio/2012/01/training-creativity/">“Housebreaking Your Muse.”</a> <i>I beg your pardon!</i> Muses are not DOGS! How demeaning! Muses everywhere
demand an apology. I know you were trying to be cute, but muses are energy,
light, intuition, not a bad pup that needs its nose rubbed in its pee. It’s the
writer who needs training, focus, meditation … whatever! Muses are always there for
our captains. So, please! No more!</div>
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Sigh.</div>
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Again,
gentle readers, thank you for letting me be here. Captain Val will be back next week. </div>
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In the
meantime, <span style="color: #cc0000;">what inspires you? Can you see the potential instead of what doesn't work? In fact, tell us
how <i>you're </i>going to change your outlook, how you'll approach your project from now on. Will you now approach your writing with a fresh new attitude? What will you do? What will be your reward for the first step you take?</span><br />
Oh, what fun! Captain Val would love to hear from you, and you don’t need to be a writer to do this. I
think February should be The Potential Month, See the Possibilities Month. Now
<i>I’m</i> excited!</div>
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For now,
until next time, much love,</div>
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Sparrow<br />
p.s. And don't forget to call on your Muse for help! (But please, don't use a dog whistle.)<br />
<br /></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Coming Soon!</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
Captain Val Throws a
Creative Soiree with her Crew<br />
Waiting for <i>Wild</i> and Why I'll Read Everything Cheryl Strayed Writes</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
How a Research Trip
to Paris went Aground and What Saved It</div>
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<br /></div>Valerie Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03974801169865595635noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971026925134956743.post-83968562507967416012012-01-12T10:45:00.000-08:002012-01-12T10:45:42.491-08:00Interview with Diane Prokop, Book Reviewer - Part II<style>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Here it is, maties! Second half of my interview with Diane Prokop. Enjoy!</span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ3N_xI3_lUk3Qm7g80yJf7kkgIQmYUC_-Nd3IFTHqa0D-cEWMmdhdWOzSHsNxbAewbrfff6MR0_m7kefL8r3G4IXSryH4dfdpu-TqPEq4cM3dgI8fJV0hXQtTdhEurxde-uApHLfPUJU/s1600/Diane%252BMax%252BJazz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ3N_xI3_lUk3Qm7g80yJf7kkgIQmYUC_-Nd3IFTHqa0D-cEWMmdhdWOzSHsNxbAewbrfff6MR0_m7kefL8r3G4IXSryH4dfdpu-TqPEq4cM3dgI8fJV0hXQtTdhEurxde-uApHLfPUJU/s400/Diane%252BMax%252BJazz.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Max and Jazz with their human</td></tr>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Tell
me about Wordstock. My readers would like to see you in action.</span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSkX-pucWrhRQIC2HvvoXE7FFjOI_g2V8ZMAIo5d1tuX7ofw7Wc_hZuTe_IuItCvOv9RCFQhiiEcxY-2oNjs11tg0tvSvC0ypi0gxbUMpaiJ1vgnWromUsP2DPqpYbY_7zyRYdAa-KJAs/s1600/Ondaatje+-+Wordstock0131b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSkX-pucWrhRQIC2HvvoXE7FFjOI_g2V8ZMAIo5d1tuX7ofw7Wc_hZuTe_IuItCvOv9RCFQhiiEcxY-2oNjs11tg0tvSvC0ypi0gxbUMpaiJ1vgnWromUsP2DPqpYbY_7zyRYdAa-KJAs/s200/Ondaatje+-+Wordstock0131b.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Michael Ondaatje at Wordstock</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Wordstock Literary Fest is crazy for me. I have
back-to-back readings and interviews for two days. This year I interviewed Anne
Enright and Anna Solomon and did event coverage for Michael Ondaatje, Isabel
Wilkerson, Barry Lopez, Steve Almond, Peter Mountford, Charles Yu, and others I
can’t recall at the moment. Plus, I wanted to get all my first editions signed,
so I would do the interview, record the reading, take pics and then rush to the
signing area. It was during a signing that I met Jennifer Egan. When she saw my
press pass she asked me - with a smile on her face - why I hadn’t asked to
interview her. I told her that I didn’t think she would have time. She laughed
and gave me her email address and said to contact her, which I will definitely
do. Lovely lady! I still haven’t posted all the Wordstock coverage to my site
yet.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">What
was the funniest encounter with an author?</span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">A lot of what gets said in an interview is “off the
record.” In other words, until those authors die, I’ll have to keep it to
myself. I stand by the journalists code of ethics for the most part. However,
it’s amazing to me what an author will share with me “on the record” and later
I will listen to it and make a decision not to write about it. I guess I’m
trying to protect them from themselves. Some of it is extremely funny, but if
they’re trashing their publisher or their readers, that’s something that’s
better left off the page. Maybe they’re having a bad day or are letting off
some steam. Hopefully, when their next book comes around, they’ll remember my
discretion and agree to another interview. Sometimes I think I’m missing an
opportunity to make a big splash with a little dirt on a famous author, but in
the end, it’s not worth it to me.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">What
was the most horrifying?</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHI8QDYoH-5d8WKG6DxCrgpcfs9LCLPzsMPtaOAQig4Mdou9r0sk3UduUQlaaAGYcXs6nCQcUvodN7_AGSsNsYYLtMk_YVKDLNh5zoNbqLoQnDtxI5Re9S8NTZzKhbkNpe6gStHQUa76k/s1600/Richard+Price.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHI8QDYoH-5d8WKG6DxCrgpcfs9LCLPzsMPtaOAQig4Mdou9r0sk3UduUQlaaAGYcXs6nCQcUvodN7_AGSsNsYYLtMk_YVKDLNh5zoNbqLoQnDtxI5Re9S8NTZzKhbkNpe6gStHQUa76k/s1600/Richard+Price.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Nothing horrifying has ever happened to me, but I did
embarrass myself big time with Richard Price. I am a huge fan of his and have
read everything he’s written. When he visited Powell’s, I wasn’t doing my blog
yet and was just there as a fan. He seemed very nervous while he was reading.
His knuckles were white where they grasped the lectern. He wasn’t happy with
some of the audience questions about his books being made into movies either. I
should have picked up on all this, but unfortunately I was too excited about
meeting him to notice, except in retrospect. When I got to the signing table,
he asked me a question, which I thought for some insane reason was, “Are you a
writer?” I was like, Wow! He wants to talk about life and the world of writing,
so I started rambling. At one point I even said, “I’m a writer and I’m working
on a novel but it’s not going very well.” When I finally checked back into
reality, I realized he was looking at me with what can only be described as
supreme pity and then he said rather curtly, “Could you please just tell me
what you want me to write in your book.” All he had wanted was my name so he
could inscribe my book. He wrote something and I ran. Later, I saw he had
written, “To Diane, You will find a writing job.” If I ever have the chance to
meet him again, I</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">promise to be on my best behavior! Later I read that
he was going through a divorce so that would have explained his less than happy
mood. It also taught me a lesson as a fan and certainly as a reviewer and that
is, “It’s not about me.” When I meet with an author, I try to keep my mouth
shut and just listen.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYy35xTIwdBjamP_kzqr8qpVCgZgQEo1LQ2DIGcJ32lKX9MdetmFIzXzQ2G4-eydksbXO6tBa7dhFD9wVGmVE6kNZi_xKgGLUOi6z__jx1rvqsnz7t7nRuHmVXS9QCCdA8qCyAmOoHNmo/s1600/Netherland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYy35xTIwdBjamP_kzqr8qpVCgZgQEo1LQ2DIGcJ32lKX9MdetmFIzXzQ2G4-eydksbXO6tBa7dhFD9wVGmVE6kNZi_xKgGLUOi6z__jx1rvqsnz7t7nRuHmVXS9QCCdA8qCyAmOoHNmo/s1600/Netherland.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Another time I was at a reading of Joseph O’Neill who
wrote <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Netherland</i>. Sometimes people
are too shy to be the first to ask a question so I’ll ask one of the standards
to get things going. There were about 150 people in the room, but no one spoke
up when he opened it up to questions. He had just been interviewed on stage, so
I didn’t have any questions about his book that hadn’t already been asked.
Without thinking, I asked him what he was working on and when did he expect it
to be published. The on-stage interviewer chimed in and said that he was
wondering the same thing. Well, that turned out to be the wrong question
because apparently he had been dealing with a severe case of writer’s block for
quite some time. I forget exactly what he said in response, but it was
something along the lines of “I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT THAT!” I remember
wanting to crawl under my chair. I’ve since learned never to ask an author when
his new book is coming out unless I already know the answer.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">What
author do you most want to meet? Why?</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixlorvC3-sqnS0Fqia4OqUL7ABRXqtxNFtdU2MaFWQX6RWfuYVmQUTii_RLnsC9-qIV54_DeliLVTCmYhfRFRa2TXM8c-z79K2O3wyWageKwzOTeMjngayRMDGUO4zNOkr-jkH4QC4kSA/s1600/Anne+Enright.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixlorvC3-sqnS0Fqia4OqUL7ABRXqtxNFtdU2MaFWQX6RWfuYVmQUTii_RLnsC9-qIV54_DeliLVTCmYhfRFRa2TXM8c-z79K2O3wyWageKwzOTeMjngayRMDGUO4zNOkr-jkH4QC4kSA/s320/Anne+Enright.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">The author I was most excited about meeting this year
was Anne Enright. I’ve been a huge fan of hers since she wrote <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Gathering</i> and then fell in love all
over again this year with <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Forgotten
Waltz</i>. She has her finger on the pulse of the times we’re living in and
she’s very funny. She’s a completely fearless writer. I approached her
publicist about interviewing her and when they said yes, I immediately started
to sweat. I listened to every audio clip I could find of her being interviewed
and grew more and more nervous. Talk about not suffering fools gladly! I heard
her dress down plenty of interviewers on those clips. I was 20 minutes early to
the interview and was having heart palpitations by the time she breezed into the
room. I could feel her presence before she opened her mouth. Her book is about
a woman who cheats on her husband and is totally self-absorbed. The first thing
I said to her was, “So this is obviously an autobiography?” For a moment she
froze and then she burst out laughing, and it was all good from there. It was
an amazing hour that I’ll never forget. I’ll be posting that interview the
first part of January.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">What
advice can you give authors for giving a good reading?</span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbuXvE3sTEGtlLlMayFYK25SmDpwDGaTghacXmELh33rZY1Fg29zBXhKoqhqQL5lhOXzNDyXPWMVqhOc7ae9y0szUvN8RBAfbHrnU16nZuT7stOj9e9Kv2khi367HJbWTr3JfJmQTpVyc/s1600/Lidia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbuXvE3sTEGtlLlMayFYK25SmDpwDGaTghacXmELh33rZY1Fg29zBXhKoqhqQL5lhOXzNDyXPWMVqhOc7ae9y0szUvN8RBAfbHrnU16nZuT7stOj9e9Kv2khi367HJbWTr3JfJmQTpVyc/s1600/Lidia.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lidia Yuknavitch</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCX2SJo321tTMsenFJz4YH_n1dPwPxX7VQ7pzZYFKOXHMqpJ7EBezGB9WTnbmLA9DSgMoQy1rYqpJmrQKPAvHcO3bLZkSKEKcM9Q1xxDoECrtGj2J-GV0f7Vdgv5FmzN2YehgCzY-egcY/s1600/Ritter1b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCX2SJo321tTMsenFJz4YH_n1dPwPxX7VQ7pzZYFKOXHMqpJ7EBezGB9WTnbmLA9DSgMoQy1rYqpJmrQKPAvHcO3bLZkSKEKcM9Q1xxDoECrtGj2J-GV0f7Vdgv5FmzN2YehgCzY-egcY/s200/Ritter1b.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Josh Ritter</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Author events are unnatural. Authors need training and
advice to make that important connection with the audience. I always say, “Be
humble and self-deprecating. Talk a little bit about the genesis of your book.
Read from your book for five minutes - ten, if you must. Take questions for 30
minutes and play the guitar, if possible.” I’m kidding about the guitar, sort
of. One of the best readings I went to was for Josh Ritter’s book, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Bright’s Passage</i>. Because of the bubble
I live in, I was the only one in a room of 300 that didn’t know he was a famous
musician. He stood a couple feet from me and between reading passages from his
book, he played his guitar and sang. It was fantastic! Afterwards, he talked to
me, gave me a hug and told me to let him know when my review was up. Sure, I
thought. I contacted him via Twitter when I put up my post, and he gave me the
ultimate nod when he re-tweeted that info to seventeen thousand of his fans. He
also gave me permission to post my bootleg audio clips of the songs he played.
Needless to say, I had a lot of hits for that stuff and still do. Powell’s sold
every copy of his book that night. Patti Smith and Rosanne Cash were the same
format, but at a paid author event, and it worked really well, but I didn’t get
to meet them because I hadn’t started my blog yet. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Chronology of Water</i> author, Lidia Yuknavitch, gave a riveting
reading in which she stripped down to a Speedo swimsuit and pretty much cried
throughout the entire thing. The audience adored her. So I would say be
creative, be your most authentic self, and always expect the unexpected.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghZjwPRXPysz9ZUEafXJgDVZuS1f6Ip0Enn2uwljBIqadmOrDMjMasr_G5SzDOYWM9rKKREfJhlgY7tIqEuC0thxFooJxZ_ZUULI-my12LWyVAuNkdHqMNf3mQ2nPm7EMuYgNQ4gIrIdY/s1600/Charles+Frazier.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghZjwPRXPysz9ZUEafXJgDVZuS1f6Ip0Enn2uwljBIqadmOrDMjMasr_G5SzDOYWM9rKKREfJhlgY7tIqEuC0thxFooJxZ_ZUULI-my12LWyVAuNkdHqMNf3mQ2nPm7EMuYgNQ4gIrIdY/s1600/Charles+Frazier.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Charles Frazier</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">For instance, it’s raining and this is your debut
novel. Three people show up. Treat them like royalty. Instead of standing at
the front of the room, sit down with them and chat. At a reading not too long
ago, a fan had a seizure and the author had to ask if there was a doctor in the
audience - there was. Several readings have brought out some interesting fans. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Turn of Mind</i>, the mystery by Alice
LaPlante about a doctor with Alzheimer’s, had several people with varying degrees
of Alzheimer’s in the audience - great questions! At another reading, someone
blurted out a question while the author was in the middle of his opening. When
he asked her, in the nicest way possible, to hang on for a bit and he would get
back to her, the fan got up and walked out. Several times in the signing line,
I’ve been manhandled by impatient fans. The last time was at Charles Frazier’s
reading, and I barely missed being thrown to the floor by someone who said that
since she had been the first one to the store that day, she should be the first
in line. One night a woman in the back of a room crowded with hundreds of
people asked if her son could get his book signed first because it was past his
bedtime. It was 8:30 and the “boy” turned out to be 14 years old, but everyone
was gracious and let him go first. He was humiliated and just kept saying, “I
hate my mother.” People will ask you anything that pops into their heads, so be
prepared to say no to some questions. Sometimes the audience has no questions
at all, so have a story or two on hand to tell. Finally, most people do not go
out on a work night in the driving rain to give you a hard time. They are there
because they like your work. Be kind and generous.</span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">What
about readers? Some online reviewers are actually paid by the author or
publisher to write reviews for them.</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I personally don’t know any reviewers who are paid by
the author or publisher. I know that some publications do sponsor book reviews,
which means they pay a reviewer to read it. That’s not something I would ever
do.</span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">What
did you read as a teenager?</span></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghqxz43dKgxVVDKhkQ7K_GU3Gd11oseoJvUqa1jRdj4ZEM1FbwWxF8c7q85x8TNfxsQH4PDEqH8sTie57RyXOqO9CiDtT_1h2oZIteH0mgerV-xdFIm3QMjhVO75EwRIdl9mA8nTEQxe4/s1600/200px-KoolAid_1stUSEd_front.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghqxz43dKgxVVDKhkQ7K_GU3Gd11oseoJvUqa1jRdj4ZEM1FbwWxF8c7q85x8TNfxsQH4PDEqH8sTie57RyXOqO9CiDtT_1h2oZIteH0mgerV-xdFIm3QMjhVO75EwRIdl9mA8nTEQxe4/s1600/200px-KoolAid_1stUSEd_front.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I remember my life changing in high school when I read
James Baldwin and Jack Kerouac. It shifted again in college, when I took
workshops with beat poets Gary Snyder and Allen Ginsberg. I was very much a
child of the sixties even though I actually graduated high school in the 70s. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test</i>, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Rights In Conflict</i>, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Soul on Ice</i> - well, you get the picture. My junior year in high
school I read the dictionary from cover to cover. Can’t remember why. Maybe
because I heard that every book ever written was contained in there.</span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Can
you describe your taste in novels?</span></i></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I like reading about the human condition, so I would
say literary fiction, memoir, essays, travel and humor. Once in awhile I’ll
break from those genres as I did recently for Stephen King’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">11/22/63</i>, which I loved.</span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">What
is your quirkiest attribute as a reviewer?</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">My quirkiest attribute would have to be how much work
I put into promoting an author I like. I’ve even picked them up at their hotels
and driven them to their readings. Like I said, it’s personal with me.</span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">If
you were transported into the body of one fictional character, who would it be?</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Even though I don’t read much sci-fi, I’ve always been
fascinated with time travel. So any character who travels through time. That’s
probably a result of being a two-time cancer survivor. Who wouldn’t want to
travel back before you realized you were mortal.</span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">What
question have you never been asked that you’ve always wanted to be asked? And
what’s the answer?</span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">No one ever asks me anything about why I do what I do,
so Val, I want to thank you for being the first and one and only. If there were
just one question I always thought should be asked, it would be this: Is every
book reviewer a frustrated novelist? </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">The answer is, of course, a resounding yes! I’ve been
hard at work on my novel, “Nod,” for a few years now.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"> --------------------------</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">(FYI: Diane
reviews primarily lit fiction, memoir, travel, and some humor. She
doesn't read YA, romance, vampire, and rarely science fiction. You can
get a flavor of her reading tastes by going to her site.</span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">) </span></div>
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<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">To follow Diane, click on any of these links:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><a href="http://dianeprokop.com/">Diane's Book Blog</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><a href="https://twitter.com/dianeprokop">Diane on Twitter</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100001803514329">Diane on Facebook</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/5092962-diane-prokop">Diane on Goodreads</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Thank you, Diane, for such a forthright and informative interview! And to thank you, readers and fellow pirates, <span style="color: #cc0000;">I will select five questions from you to present to Diane and will post her answers in a future blog. Here's your opportunity to ask those burning questions (or the ones I forgot to ask!) and hear what she has to say. So send your questions to me ValinParis (at) earthlink (dot) net and I'll post them with the answers. Until then ...</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="color: black;">Stay dry and keep readin'! It's our only defense against ignorance.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="color: black;">Your Captain, Author and Book Lover,</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="color: black;">Captain Val </span></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="color: black;"><b>Coming Up!</b></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="color: black;">Who knows? Stay tuned!</span></span></span></div>Valerie Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03974801169865595635noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971026925134956743.post-80580611084630859982012-01-06T19:45:00.000-08:002012-01-08T09:14:38.167-08:00Interview with Diane Prokop, Book Reviewer - Part I<style>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Years ago, Diane Prokop and I met while working in similar
positions at a community college, but lost track of each other until just
recently, when books brought us back together. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">We vowed to have coffee or lunch
at the 2011 <a href="http://www.wordstockfestival.com/">Wordstock Festival</a> in Portland, but we had to settle for two
minutes in between author readings and signings. Our love of writing and
reading clearly dictates that we <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">will </i> have a nice long leisurely catch-up lunch
soon, but until then, I was too curious about her new passion—book reviewing.
As a great follower of Maureen Corrigan and her crisply enunciated NPR reviews,
I was eager to find someone other than the highbrow NYT Michiko Kakutani print
reviews to follow. I appreciate Maureen’s combination of heart and critical
analysis of craft and wanted to find someone similar to read, and now I have.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">On her review site, Diane revels in her love of reading and
her admiration for writers. I’m reading three books she’s recommended and am
now a fan. After doing the following interview, I’m even a bigger fan. She has
heart, she doesn’t box herself in, she’s honest, and she’s funny. So without
further ado, here’s the first part of the interview with part two coming next
week. Enjoy, maties!</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Tell
us a little about yourself.</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Born and raised in Chicagoland - it will always be
home. Won my first writing contest in grade school for a poem called “The
Lighthouse.” Freelance writer for magazines. Public relations specialist at
community college. Life-long student with degree in anthropology. Have taken
years and years of art classes but am still just average. Certified computer
programmer. Certified cabinetmaker. Earned First Aid card. Best memories - two
years spent backpacking though Europe. Still friends with people I knew in
grade school and high school. Am curious about everything. Always on the lookout
for new authors and budding musicians. Love my dogs. Live in Portland, Oregon -
home of Powell’s Books, food carts and rain.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnTatmVzbeUy_F-A_wt9fw2duCyBR-4jVYHfW-7OT1YY7Xit_bvooGpZDwXNua5HhO7EulOG1TetM3WsN0V7zeOXVSvxHsGWEFMbgk2RT39dejURB_C3OS9_mxs9IktNEUgAZqm8h3v0A/s1600/Diane%252C+Max+%2526+Jazz+Bridge+523b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnTatmVzbeUy_F-A_wt9fw2duCyBR-4jVYHfW-7OT1YY7Xit_bvooGpZDwXNua5HhO7EulOG1TetM3WsN0V7zeOXVSvxHsGWEFMbgk2RT39dejURB_C3OS9_mxs9IktNEUgAZqm8h3v0A/s400/Diane%252C+Max+%2526+Jazz+Bridge+523b.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Diane with Max and Jazz</td></tr>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">What
made you decide to become a book reviewer? How did you get started?</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I started keeping bibliodiaries many years ago when I
got tired of saying, “Oh yeah, I loved that book or I hated that book,” but
couldn’t remember why. Also, I wanted a record of all the books I’d read to see
where it was leading me, if anywhere. The journals also contain notes about
interesting books I want to read someday and music that I want to check out.
One day I decided it would be fun to put it online. At first, I thought only my
friends and family would read it. It turns out, though, that my friends and
family aren’t big readers, so they check it once every few months just to see
if I’ve mentioned them or embarrassed myself. On the other hand, I’ve become
really good friends with some of the people who follow my blog. I call them my
imaginary friends and would like to meet them someday.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">In addition to my blog, last summer I began writing
occasionally for the <a href="http://www.portlandbookreview.com/">Portland Book Review</a>. It’s where most of my author
interviews are posted because I can reach a wider audience. Publishers are more
apt to approach me when they see me at multiple sites because it translates
into more readers. I hope that eventually my reputation will allow me to write
solely for my blog, but in the meantime, it’s working out really well.</span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">You
worked in public relations at a community college before moving to Portland,
Oregon. How did that help?</span></i></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1vzhTCuQt2ww5E0qFTaKuisyPxAeVfWdRi_BuA93quFWaD66bf_upEUN3m44eF-AU46ZTH4vv3-unZGyiVizOQd97hooJuGqHoglfPpk8o0YOlKeV7aocsBeYQTlpaemxxsXgH4o_k9I/s1600/Me+at+Desk+-+Val.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1vzhTCuQt2ww5E0qFTaKuisyPxAeVfWdRi_BuA93quFWaD66bf_upEUN3m44eF-AU46ZTH4vv3-unZGyiVizOQd97hooJuGqHoglfPpk8o0YOlKeV7aocsBeYQTlpaemxxsXgH4o_k9I/s320/Me+at+Desk+-+Val.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Diane at her desk</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">That job really honed my writing skills. Besides
writing press releases, editing copy, writing speeches and talking to TV, radio
and print media, I had to produce a daily newsletter that was read by hundreds
of academia. Some days it felt like their sole purpose in life was to find my
punctuation and spelling errors, or worse. It was humbling. I also developed
interviewing skills because of the profiles I did for educational journals,
etc. I found that I really enjoyed listening to people tell me their stories. I
got excited about what they were excited about. When I started interviewing
authors, all those skills kicked in.</span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Why
did you decide to make your book blog a “snark-free” zone as you call it, and
why do you only review five-star books?</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I have three, four and five-star books on my site,
although you can’t see the actual star rating unless you <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/5092962-diane-prokop">visit me atGoodreads.com</a>. There are several reasons for keeping it snark free, but the
main one is that I do this out of love. To me, the most significant action I
can take when I don’t like a book is to ignore it. When I get together with
other book people, I do trash-talk books. In fact, I can get as emotional about
books that disappoint me as I do about books that transcend my expectations.
But since I rarely finish a book I don’t like, there’s really no way I can
review it. One recent exception was The Help. I kept reading it in spite of the
fact that with every page I read, I detested it more and more. Since I had
heard so many great things about it, I expected to have an epiphany at some
point. I never did. I still don’t know what all the fuss was about.</span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">What’s
the difference between you and other reviewers online? What makes you
different?</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I make it personal. When I read a book, I develop a
relationship with the story and, in a way, with the author. Reviewing the book
is an analysis of that relationship as opposed to literary criticism. As in
life, when I fall in love with a book, I’m head over heels. My readers can see
how much I love the book. I don’t hold back at all. In fact, I gush. I become a
huge advocate for the author. I tweet them, FaceBook them, and cheerlead them
so that they’ll garner a wider fan base. That’s where my PR experience comes in
handy. It’s also why, in spite of the fact that social media is not my favorite
thing, I am on <a href="https://twitter.com/dianeprokop">Twitter </a>and <a href="http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100001803514329">Facebook</a>. I want to spread the word and that is how it’s
spread these days.</span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Tell
me about your process in selecting the books you review or feature. You don’t
have a review policy on your blog, so I’m guessing you don’t take unsolicited
books for review. Do you receive books from publishers? How else do you find
them?</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I don’t have a review policy, as such, because I never
got around to it. I find books by reading Publishers Weekly, Shelf Awareness,
Poets & Writers, the NYT and subscribing to e-newsletters from small
presses that let me know when new books are coming out. Twitter and FB help me
pick up on buzz, too. I don’t like to receive “unsolicited” books from authors
and publishers, but I get them from time to time. I do ask for and receive a
lot of books from publishers and a few from authors. Some weeks, a dozen books
will arrive by mail, UPS and FedEx. I buy a lot of books, of course. I’m a huge
first edition addict and belong to a couple of first edition book clubs.</span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">I
picture you with stacks of books everywhere in your house, and you have to read
each one or at least read the beginning to see if you’re interested. How do you
manage that?</span></i></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV0Wp7bML4d5I20DigrOHVNoyje_3WlpzORcsM8O7ROicfNoEGw21k38thyphenhyphenkegC-OoVL53UeOIyto82DRu_c5TbUNVNgOAlQjizpPTtHu6KmjVTsj3XemlS4m9-RAzb4UZLJ9vCJYimLI/s1600/My+Signed+First+Editions.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV0Wp7bML4d5I20DigrOHVNoyje_3WlpzORcsM8O7ROicfNoEGw21k38thyphenhyphenkegC-OoVL53UeOIyto82DRu_c5TbUNVNgOAlQjizpPTtHu6KmjVTsj3XemlS4m9-RAzb4UZLJ9vCJYimLI/s320/My+Signed+First+Editions.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Diane's First Editions</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Every room in my house is a shrine to books. I have a
first edition room, art book room, advance reader copy room, music, photo and
film book room, books I will never read but were given to me by a
well-intentioned friend room, and then several stacks by my bedside. Since I
moved twice in the last ten years, I had to divest myself of a lot of books
which was very painful. I’m trying to make up for that now. I need lots of
books around me. I usually give each book the 40-page test and then make a
decision on whether to continue. If I don’t like it, but I think some other
reviewer might, I pass it along.</span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Can
you give us a “picture” of what it’s like to do what you do, say, for a day or
week when you’re working on your blog entry? I know you attend Powell’s
Bookstore events (and for clarification, I know you do not work for them). How
do you rustle up authors?</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">On average, I spend about four to five hours a day
reading, reviewing, researching, posting, tweeting, FBing, and emailing. The
spring and fall are my busiest times because that is when most books are
released. Book events are scheduled every day of the week during those months.
A typical week will have one or two author events that I’m interested in,
usually at Powell’s, but at other venues, too. If I am interviewing the author,
I read their book twice and prepare a list of questions. I spend at least
one-half hour to an hour with the author. I also record their reading and
Q&A and take pics. I like to synthesize the event into a few paragraphs for
my blog to give my readers a sense of who the author is and what the event was
like. If they tell a funny story or say something really interesting, I’ll make
a short audio clip for my site and for YouTube. (<a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/buksr4u/featured">My YouTube account is called buksr4u</a>). If I interview the author, I get my books autographed at that time.
If not, I stand in line to get them signed at the end of the event. The next
day, I transcribe the interviews and readings and then write my posts. As far
as rustling up authors, usually a publicist will ask me to interview their
author. Once in awhile, I’ll reach out to the publicist. A few authors have
contacted me and asked to be interviewed. If it’s someone I want to meet, I say
yes.</span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">How
are the authors, especially the “famous” authors, to work with?</span></i></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBry0z4SC7b00amx8cF79YnR_8e6yy3rMuoi-DIilsx7Wj5K8Fal7f011DDfxuJS7mn_4kfpzDgTKafz6Ow4NiH1QenR1qmbbpyiEOGQk-4xPBZNVizEaZxDYuF-dJXZ2_00NXBnqQQsc/s1600/Me+and+Sebastian+Barry+955b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBry0z4SC7b00amx8cF79YnR_8e6yy3rMuoi-DIilsx7Wj5K8Fal7f011DDfxuJS7mn_4kfpzDgTKafz6Ow4NiH1QenR1qmbbpyiEOGQk-4xPBZNVizEaZxDYuF-dJXZ2_00NXBnqQQsc/s320/Me+and+Sebastian+Barry+955b.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Diane with Sebastian Barry, Irish playwright, novelist and poet </td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">It’s amazing to me how gracious most of the authors
are. Alexandra Fuller, Jennifer Egan, Jonathan Franzen, Bret Easton Ellis, Anne
Enright, Andre Dubus III, Richard Russo, for instance, have all been very, very
nice. A few others were a little peculiar, but not nasty. Some of the debut
authors seemed dazed and confused, and I feel a little sorry for them. Quite a
few authors live in a bubble so they don’t understand what bloggers do. I’m
fairly certain there was one author who thought I was a stalker. Another author
questioned me at length as to why I had an ARC. I don’t know if she thought I
stole it or what exactly the problem was, but she was not happy. I think
publishers need to explain to authors that, because book reviewers have been
let go from print publications, bloggers are filling a much-needed gap in the
publicity package. If a blogger has your ARC, that means your publisher thought
they should have it. I’ve also had a couple of authors refuse to sign an ARC.
Both relented when they saw I had first editions of their books, as well, but
that was uncomfortable.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Some authors pick up their pen and don’t look up from
the signing table until the last person has left the room. They have no desire
to interact with their fans. It’s a little disappointing from the fan’s point
of view, but for these authors the tour is one hundred times harder than
writing the book. I’ve had authors confide in me that they spent the hour
before the reading throwing up in the bathroom. I feel for them - that would be
me.</span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">(To be continued! More
stories next week about Diane and her adventures with famous authors, her
funniest moment, her most horrifying moment, and what advice she has for author
readings and readers attending readings.)</span></i></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyCxeUhnyD-ivbFlBQNhIEA-WvDGVKWkQ0H7IVPul82nI2_KSaY-YqHOQ4t-SdGh57YoxF21rT5rsMshpR3RimjzzaG5CTs7Fy0_Qs280Vad4zWygC1qhRjNnqm5JVcIDPgskr2K2Y8G0/s1600/Enright%252C+Anne+c++Joe+O%2527Shaughnessy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyCxeUhnyD-ivbFlBQNhIEA-WvDGVKWkQ0H7IVPul82nI2_KSaY-YqHOQ4t-SdGh57YoxF21rT5rsMshpR3RimjzzaG5CTs7Fy0_Qs280Vad4zWygC1qhRjNnqm5JVcIDPgskr2K2Y8G0/s200/Enright%252C+Anne+c++Joe+O%2527Shaughnessy.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anne Enright</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">To follow Diane, click on any of these links:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><a href="http://dianeprokop.com/">Diane's Book Blog</a></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><a href="https://twitter.com/dianeprokop">Diane on Twitter</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100001803514329">Diane on Facebook</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/5092962-diane-prokop">Diane on Goodreads</a> </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Diane's interview with Anne Enright is now up on her blog. <a href="http://dianeprokop.com/">Read it here!</a></span><i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Until then, keep reading and writing!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Your Shipmate in Life’s Adventures,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Captain Val </span></div>Valerie Brookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03974801169865595635noreply@blogger.com23