Book Club Skypes and Other Humbling Things

Years ago, when I was writing Some Kind of Normal, I dreamed of what it would be like to be a published author. To say the least, those dreams were unrealistic. Hitting bestseller lists, traveling on book tours, seeing my book on every bookstore shelf - maybe even in the hands of a stranger in an airport. Being the book of the month for some big book club.

I knew they weren't realistic dreams, but they were fun, and sometimes, in the grueling, lonely long hours of writing when nothing on the page seems to come out right and in those long months of rejections by agents, dreams are what you need to keep you going.

Life as a published author hasn't been quite the way I hoped - at least not continually - but it's certainly had its moments. I hit a bestseller list on Amazon for a few weeks. That was a buzz! I signed books in Barnes and Nobles. I saw my novel on a shelf recently in a bookstore a few miles from my home. I've had strangers approach me in public places or email me to say they've read it and loved it. I've had book clubs choose to read it.

And this past month, I was asked to join a book club in Canada via Skype. I can't even begin to say how cool that was.

So last night blogging friend Lynn Simpson Skyped me from her group in Alberta, Canada, and we chatted.

I'd like to say I felt like a rock star, but really, I felt like myself - a bit overly-talkative, embarrassed, and completely inadequate to be a part of their night.

They asked great questions, seemed like a great group of people... I wished I was there with them, talking to some other author via Skype.

I'll make a confession - it's been three years since my book was published, and just that long since I've read it. The editing and proofing process made me sick enough of my writing at the time that I haven't had the heart to go back and read it again. And I realized, as I was getting ready to chat with the book club, that I had forgotten some of the minor character names and minor plots. So I took out the book and read it.

And cringed.

Three years, a graduate school degree, two more novels and a handful of short stories later, my writing has really changed, and I could see all the weakness of this writing, could see why agents rejected it, could see places that were just rough.

I felt almost apologetic about them reading it.

I didn't hate the whole thing. There were places I really loved, things I did really well that I haven't since done as well. I cried through most of it. I marveled at a few turns of phrases and scenes and dialogue. I love those characters with all my heart.

But still... if I wrote it today, it wouldn't be the same.

And I have to be okay with that. I certainly don't want my first book to be my best - for my writing to go downhill from here. I want to get better. One lady said, "That was really great for a first book," and I loved that comment because it is how I feel. It's not some literary groundbreaker, and I won't win big awards for it, and I hope it's not the best thing I'll ever write, but it's pretty good for a first book.

But what I did realize talking to them is that I loved writing that book. I wrote it because I was passionate about it. I was passionate about diabetes and stem cell research and finding faith when it seems like questioning God isn't allowed. Just answering their questions, I found myself excited again about all those things.

And that is what I've been missing. Writing from that place of passion. I can love my characters. I can love my story idea. But it hasn't been that same level of passion that makes me stop people, corner them and talk to them for hours about how the real world could be changed by what I'm learning as I write. I'm not sure how to get back to that place, but I'm working on a new novel now that I hope will be that way.

For now, I'm loving the women in that book club who took their time last night to talk to me, to tell me what they loved about the book, the characters they fell in love with, how they'd guessed where I'd drawn the line between fiction and real life, who read so carefully and treated me like a honored guest. To me, they are the rock stars.

OH HAPPY DAY!!!!

Yesterday, Jen Blom's debut middle grade novel was released. I couldn't have been more excited if it was my own book.

Even though I've seen the cover, it took my breath away holding it in my hand. I found myself saying, "It's a real book!"... Funny enough, the exact same words my writing group said to me when my book arrived at their homes.

It's something. Holding a book written by someone you know.

This book feels personal to me, too. You see, Jen and I started on the publication process about the same time. We'd both finished our first novels and were querying them when we met, and both commiserated thought the early query waters. We formed a writing group together with a few other lovely ladies, and she and I decided about the same time to begin new books.

It was Jen who, three years ago this summer, who challenged me to write 50,000 words in five weeks. At the time, that seemed monumental, but she was doing it, and if she could, so could I, I thought.

And thus I began my own journey with writing Some Kind of Normal. By August, I had finished the first draft of my novel, and Jen had finished Possum Summer.

Our paths in the process went in different direction at that point. I took a few more months to revise, and eventually went with an independent publishing house that took less than six months from acceptance to publication.

Jen queried, got an agent, went through the submission process, got an editor, spent lengthy time in a much bigger publishing house before her book finally made it to print. But seeing the book - holding it in my hands - brought back that summer in vivid form.

It is proof that dreams come true.

Jen writes more than anyone I know. Since writing that one book and querying it, I can think of six other books she has written, at least one of which is currently under contract, and the others in a holding pattern for a different publisher. She is amazing.

If you want to say congrats, you can stop by her blog here. I know it would mean the world to her - even if you don't buy the book. Really - we're all in this together - each step of the way - and every success by one of us should be celebrated.

And Jen - though I've said it so often to you, I want to say it here, too. I am so proud of you. You inspire me and challenge me. And I'm so happy for you that this day is finally here. May there be many, many more release days in your future!

What's Up With the Texas Bashing? (and other setting related questions)

Lately I've noticed a lot of Texas bashing going on - some of it hidden behind backhanded compliments that seem both idiotic and narrow-minded. In just the last week I've seen nearly a dozen people on facebook post articles, videos, or updates expressing their amazement that Texans can be anything but right-wing religious fanatics that hate everyone else.

I've read people's comments that they can't believe how hospitable and friendly Texans were when they visited, because how could their actions be in such direct opposition to their politics?

I've read how shocked people are that, when posed with a gay-bashing waitress (in a set-up for the Dateline show What Would You Do?), that Texans would actually stand up against the verbal abuse.

There seems to be some feeling out there that Texas is just one big Westboro Baptist Church (which I might add is NOT in Texas, is not affiliated with any Baptist association, and can hardly be called a church in either its mission, beliefs, or organization).

To say I'm flabbergasted is hardly the right word.

Let's just put aside the fact that Texas is the second largest state in the United States, and it would be highly unlikely that every single individual in that state conforms to some state-wide religious or political belief system.

Let's start with the fact that people out there believe that because someone is of a certain political party (in this case, Republican, but it certainly goes both ways), that that person is of some lesser moral character. That there are people out there who believe that if you have voted for a certain political candidate, you are unable to be a compassionate, kind, or intelligent human being. That there are people out there who believe that if another person disagrees with an issue, such as gay marriage,  they will think that degradation and humiliation of those who believe in that issue is acceptable, and even participate in it.

We have ceased to be individuals to each other and have become nothing more than caricatures, and evil ones at that. We like to slap labels on each other and then define an entire person's worth, personality, humanity, religion, values with that label.

If you are for socialist medicine, you must be lazy and want the government to do everything for you because you don't want to work for it yourself.

If you are against socialist medicine, you must be elitist and think only the wealthy deserve good medical care and not care at all about the poor who can't afford good health care.

Oh how easy to slap that label.

It's gotten enough for me to stop checking facebook so often, because people I know - real friends who I know love and care for me as a person, who genuinely think I am compassionate and kind and intelligent - will go online bashing an entire political party I belong to, or the entire Christian church, or even an entire state in which I was born and in which I lived several adult years. And in their bashing, they will lump every single person who agrees with the politics or faith or even music choice of that group, into a single curse word.

People will take the worse example of a person associated with their anti-beliefs and try to say everyone on that side of the divide stands hand in hand with that example. If a pastor turns out to be an adulterer, all Christians are hypocrites. If a senator turns out to be morally corrupt, all members of that party are corrupt. If a political candidate spews untruths, all people in that party - whether or not they support that candidate - are idiots and liars.

I get so tired of it all. And honestly, sometimes I'm hurt by their words.

I could stop here. I could rant on. But as the bashing this week seemed centered on Texas, it made me think about Texas, and about living there, and about why I chose to place my debut novel there. And the truth of the matter is that I needed readers to bring those stereotypes to the story.

When I set up the plot of Some Kind of Normal, I knew I needed a family fighting not just science, but fighting a community that put faith above science, and the deep south was perfect for that. I chose Texas because I've lived there, and I'm familiar with the culture and the lingo and the food and the churches and the landscape. I could have probably placed the book in any number of states, but Texas was what I knew.

But what I also knew was that, despite what everyone's perception of Texas was, the individuals in Texas are just like people everywhere else: people who care about others, who are fierce about their ideals and values and opinions, but just as fierce about their family and loved ones, even if there are differences. I wanted the characters to be more than stereotypes. I wanted them to first seem to fit the reader's pre-conceived notion of southern baptists, but then break from that into a collection of individual characters who are flawed in many ways, and loveable in many ways, and somehow - despite the fact that the reader may be opposed to their religion, or politics, or birthplace - people that the reader might relate to.

What about you? What do you think of the judging of people based on a label tacked on by a political, religious, or geographical association? Should books embrace that stereotyping, or seek to dispel it?

The Realness of Our Imaginary Worlds

Last year I sat with a group of people who were talking about those they knew with cancer. One spoke up that a good friend of hers had a son just diagnosed with leukemia and they were getting medical treatment at Johns Hopkins University.

Without thinking, I nearly jumped into the conversation with: "I know a fantastic doctor there."

Then I realized, Oh yeah. I made him up. He only exists in my head, in my book.

The thing is, this wasn't the last time that's happened to me. There have been other conversations where I've told someone how great Johns Hopkins is, as if I personally had experience with the doctors and treatment there. I have nearly told people that there is a cure for diabetes with adult stem cells that is in stage two trials.

Perhaps it's normal, after spending so much time researching and writing, to feel that what we have created is in fact real instead of imaginary. I have walked parts of the Johns Hopkins campus, but I have never been in or around their medical facilities. I do not know anyone who has gone through diabetes treatment trials of any kind. I do not know a boy with a turquoise Mohawk.

And yet, I feel like I do.

There are moments when I channel the bitterness of my newest protagonist, as though I have taken on her abusive history and angry persona. I wake up thinking I might start the day with coffee from the coffee-shop one of my characters owns before I realize that it, too, is just part of my imagination.

But I can tell you the color of the wood of the round tables, the pattern of the overstuffed chairs, the smell of coffee and mocha and baking bread all blended into a perfect atmosphere. Those details aren't even in my book, but I know them.

The short story I most recently wrote is the closest I've ever gotten to real life. The characters are blends of people I actually know, the situation one similar to one I saw a friend go through. Though the story is fictional, I have blurred the lines enough that even I have to stop and think about what is true and what is not. The characters are as real to me as the people that live in the real world on whom they were based.

Am I alone in this... this momentary forgetfulness of what is true and what is made up? I like to think that if it feels that real to me, it will feel that real to readers. One can hope, right? :) Or should I just be waiting for the crazy train to pick me up?

I Finally Took The Dive

It has officially been a year since I started PRODIGAL. The book I now refer to as "the novel that will not end."

Not that I haven't finished it. I finished it last June. Then I took a few weeks off to let it sit and gel, and then started revisions. One revision led to another, to another, to another until in November I decided, "Enough is enough."

Until January when I decided "enough" does not necessarily mean "good enough" and began revising again.

I can honestly say I'm loving the revisions. I can't even believe sometimes that the chapters now are the same chapters I wrote last year. They are, I hope, dramatically better. I credit great critiques, my MFA program, and my super-star advisor for that.

But still, because I'm doing it through school and sending only 20-25 pages every three weeks, I hate to get too ahead in case I get feedback that will throw it all on its head again. That, and reading two books a week and writing another paper a week and there really just isn't that much time to zoom ahead.

It is starting to feel like it's dragging on forever. While I love revising, I'm starting to miss creating. I'm getting the teensiest tired of these old characters and ready for something new.

So I decided to do what I swore going into the MFA program I wouldn't (because it never even crossed my mind to think about doing it or not doing it before the program): I decided to write a short story.

You'd think that would be easier than writing a novel, right? Not so much.

First off, I was scared of it. It's been 20 years since I wrote short fiction, and I had no idea how to do it anymore.

Also, I have no idea how to do it anymore. Did I just say that? Well, it bears repeating, because a short story is an ENTIRELY DIFFERENT beast than a novel.

I've been stewing about it for a while now, gestating a few ideas. I even sat and wrote a brilliant first five pages and then stalled out, having no idea where the story was going to go from there. I knew the technique I wanted to use, but not the content. So I let it stew some more.

Yesterday as soon as the kids were on the bus, I sat down and started hashing it out. Let me tell you, for people who think writing isn't work, it IS! It hurt my brain. I struggled. I wrestled. I wrote and deleted, researched, talked it out, batted ideas around and then dismissed them. Tried outlining and gave up. And then wrote some more.

And wrote. And wrote. I took a break for dinner, because that apparently is what families - especially kids - expect, and went back to writing. Obsessively. Until midnight I wrote. And I finished.

12 pages.

And I LOVE it!

Well, it's probably not the best short story in the world. It needs serious revisions probably. It's not life altering or anything.

But oh how good it felt to write something new, and to like it!

And, still on a high at 6:30 this morning, I got a call from someone who heard from someone else that they'd read my book, Some Kind of Normal. Her friend had recently lost a daughter to complications of type 1 diabetes, and she'd found my book, bought two copies for her other children who were having a hard time coping with the death. My book is healing their family, she said. It's allowing them to talk. To not feel so alone.

It's that kind of thing that makes me keep going.

I've Been Excerpted in a Magazine!

A few months ago, A Sweet Life, an amazing online magazine for diabetics, contacted me. They'd heard of my book and wanted to know if I'd be interested in writing a few articles for them and having a chapter from Some Kind of Normal published.

Heck yeah!

So yesterday it shows up as their feature article on the home page, and you can read the excerpt of the chapter (from the middle of the book) here.

If you get a chance, stop by and see it. And if you're really feeling generous, you can leave a comment there. :)

Book Club Editions! MFAs! It's Friday: It's a Good Thing

A long time ago I started a tradition of making Friday my thankful day on the blog. Somehow under all the roller coaster hills of the last year, I've gotten out of doing that. Today seems a good day to get back to that.

So here are some good things from this week:

1. My book is being reissued as a book club edition! I have some great questions in the back now, an updated cover, and a plan of attack. Bwaahaahaa!!! Also, if you know of any book clubs that might like Some Kind of Normal, either contact me with their info, or them with mine, and I can get them signed books, and even do a skype book club chat with them if they want.

2. My MFA information has come in the mail and along with it my first few assignments. I KNOW! Classes don't even start until January!! I guess they figure it's good to get us when we're still excited instead of dying under the realization of what we've signed on for.

3. That information included asking me to list my top five advisors/mentors for the next two years. I went through the list of faculty, reading their bios, googling pictures of them, reading opening chapters of their books, and there are some amazing writers here!! And also, out of the fifteen, I found exactly five that I thought would fit really well with my own style and personality. And I found one I absolutely love love love. Keeping fingers crossed I get my first choice!!

4. That information also asked me to compile a reading list for the next semester. I get to compile my own list! How cool is that!! How stressful is that!! I feel like this is the first big test they put in front of me: Let's see if this student can choose good books. I have a feeling John Grisham and James Patterson are not on their secret list of great literature. I'm drawing on suggestions y'all made a while back, so that's awesome! Thanks!

5. FAFSA and I have decided to get along. FAFSA is the financial aid application which I filled out this week to put myself and family in debt to get this wonderful degree. If you've filled out government forms that deal with other government forms (like tax forms) you know how crazy it can drive you. Thankfully, I only yelled at my husband twice, and I totally blame that on the fact that my blood sugar was 43 and I felt like I could barely process words. So the FAFSA is done and out there in the ether and my husband and I are still happily married. That's a good thing.

6. I am happy for cooler weather. Fall is finally on us, and I love it. Nothing better than curling up with my laptop to write all bundled in a comfy sweatshirt.

On an end note, here's one of the pics I posted on my photo blog this week. It's one of my favorite fall photos so far. Happy weekend, and happy Thanksgiving to my Candadian friends!

To Kill A Manuscript

When I finished the Novel Under the Bed, and then realized it needed more revisions than a sweeping proofreading, the task seemed overwhelming. I knew I had a good idea: the first three agents I queried requested it. But the execution was lacking. I tried rewriting the first chapter.. six times. It wasn't better... it was just different. I put the book under the bed.

When I finished Some Kind of Normal I had a trick up my sleeve: a critique group. This fabulous group of writers read my work, pointed out a few places I need to beef up my descriptions and correct some typos, but overall, they gave it a thumbs up. Fantastic! That book was published with no major overhaul on my part. I liked that. I got spoiled by that.

This June, I finished my third novel, and when I sent it out to my critique group I felt less excited about it than the other two. Was I going to need to just scrap the whole thing?

Thankfully, I have a crit group that is more about the fixing than the scrapping. And they pointed out why it wasn't working for me and offered some ways to fix it. Big things. Overhaul things. Like the narrator's voice needs to change. A major character needed to be dumped. The main character's history needed to be altered and her new life needed something positive in it. Big things.

I sat on the ideas for a while. I won't say I wasn't discouraged. I wanted it to be easy. I wanted critiques that looked like, "Wow! This is perfect! I wouldn't change a thing!" or "Besides a comma or two, I think this is ready to go!"  I wanted this, even though I know it wasn't true. Still, it hurts when someone you look up to says, "You are really a great writer... the way you use words is amazing... but the story is somewhat a mess."

Because when people whose opinions you value tell you something needs to be changed, you know it needs to be changed. Even if it's a lot of work.

When I threw the first chapters at them months ago, when I was still in the process of writing, they said I needed to get rid of the male character. I wasn't ready. I tweaked him a bit, but truthfully, in my head he was such a huge part of the main character's history that I couldn't take him out. When they told me this time he still needed to go, I slept on it, and decided I was ready to do that. At least, I took him out of the story. In my head he's still part of Kat's past. He's part of who made her what she is, and I as the creator of her know that. But the reader doesn't need to know that, and so out the window he went.

And over the last two weeks I've worked on revising the hard to revise things. It's the first time for me that revising has actually felt like a struggle, and hard work. But as I was working through the issues, the book suddenly started to come together. The changes were good. Really good. They took the book from a story I didn't care so much about to a story I'm loving. The main character is someone I can finally see readers investing in and feeling for and rooting for. I find myself rooting for her.

Along the way, the changes have set up tensions in the book that weren't there before. They've created layers and complexities and depth. In short, my crit group was right.

All it took was a little humility to acknowledge it.

It was in the middle of these revisions that I stumbled on this article about Harper Lee and To Kill A Mockingbird, one of my favorite books of all time. If you are a writer, you need to read this. If you are close to revising, it's a must.

Because it turns out one of the classic books of the last century went through a lot of major revisions. A lot. And a temper tantrum by the author that had her manuscript flying out her editor's New York window.

The conclusion of the article is the same on I came to this week. Revisions can make a huge difference, but to get there it takes some great critical eyes, and a lot of humility.

I've got the first in spades. I'm working on the second.

Break-out-box-worthy Lines

When I first started writing novels and reading agent blogs, the rage was: You have to hook us in the first five pages. Then it quickly became, You have to hook us in the first page, or we won't turn it. Then someone sponsored a contest and discovered reading a million page-long entries was too much, so it became, You really need to hook us in a paragraph. But turns out reading a whole paragraph was too long for contests, too.

So the paragraph became the first sentence.

You now have one sentence to catch someone's - especially an agent's - attention. I've seen readers do that too, though. Open a book and read the first sentence and close the book and put it back on the books shelf. "Too boring." Really? Is that the length of our attention span??

So I thought it was funny when right about this time, Entertainment Weekly magazine added a feature to their book reviews: highlighting opening lines.

I wondered if that was the magazine's criteria now for picking a book to review. I mean, what if a book had a lousy first sentence? That wouldn't look good in the black break-out box, would it?

Well, apparently they ended up with a book they liked that didn't have a break-out-box-worthy first sentence, because now instead of first lines, they often highlight a "Memorable Line" instead.

For some reason, this makes me laugh hysterically every time I see it. Wow, that book must have a really lame first sentence for them to have to pick another sentence out of random!

But I digress.

The point is - well, I don't really have a point. Other than maybe to say I have favorite lines in my books too - and they aren't always my first line. I think some lines - the really great ones - have to be set up in some way. Given a context.

When I was writing Some Kind of Normal, I posted a few of my favorite lines as I'd write them:

I watch him trot down the halls, all legs and arms and purple fringe. I am ashamed that I wonder, if Ashley dies, will he be enough? 

And then there was this one:

"Which one of you is the patient?"
“The one who looks like her arm is a helium balloon,” I say. I get a look for that. “Ashley Babcock.” I think of SAT week 5: acquiesce.
“Age?”
“Twelve.”
“And what is she here for?”
I point to her bloated arm and neck. “I’m afraid she got in Willy Wonka’s secret stash of gum last night and things went terribly wrong when it came to the cherry pie part.” Ashley giggles, but the nurse gives me a look to kill. Clearly there is no sense of humor in the ER. 

Ha ha! I still laugh when I read that. I wrote in my blog post that I knew that last paragraph would end up being taken out by an editor, but it turns out my editor loved the line, and when a reader writes me to tell me what they loved about the book, 4 out of 5 times, they mention this line. I love that!

In the new book I'm now revising, my favorite line so far is this:

"She’d been cut out, from the time she was three, to be the girl guys wanted to have but not to keep."

So all of you readers and writers: do you have lines that have stuck out to you in books you've read? Are there lines you've written that you want to show up in that black box as EWs memorable line when they review your book someday?

The Cat and the Bag

Yesterday I went to the post office and mailed off one of my books. I can't tell who I mailed it to, because it seems like that might be tempting fate or daring God, and because, for the moment, it's nothing more than a book in the mail.

Still, I stood there and watched the mail lady take it and dump it in a big bin behind her, and I thought, That package might change my life.

You know that feeling, when you are standing in a room full of people who look like they are all ordinary people, and you look like you're ordinary, and yet you have a secret no one can know... a secret that is about to change your life.

I felt that way when I first found out I was pregnant and we weren't telling people until we thought it was safe, and so I went around my little world carrying my future inside me and thinking, "Nothing is going to be the same," and yet everyone else thought life was going on as normal.

I felt that way the first time I put a manuscript in the mail for an agent - even for the first time I sent a query. Thinking: this could be it. This could be the one email that changes everything for me.

I feel that way now. Like I am standing on the cusp of something that might be nothing, but might be something. Might be something very, very big. It is somewhere between the less than certainty of a query and the very certain certainty of the baby. It is still a dream, a hope, a wild fluttering in my heart if I think too much. It is possibility. It could change everything in my life. Or it could only change somethings in my life. It could lead to other things. Or it could just be a book in the mail.

But until I know if it is something or not, I have to smile and nod and drink my coffee and wash the dishes and answer emails and vacuum the floors.

Because for now, everything is just the same.

For now.

BIG NEWS!

I had a whole post planned for today, it being Friday and me having 3,000 photos from Germany still left to share and all...

But my publisher ruined that.

In the best sort of way.

For those of you who don't know, my debut book, Some Kind of Normal, is about a family dealing with the diagnosis of their 12-year-old daughter and sister, who suddenly gets type 1 diabetes, and then develops complications from it.

One of the reasons I wrote this book was because I have type 1 diabetes, and because I constantly have conversations with people who have no idea what diabetes is, and how it effects someone's life. And thought here are plenty of books with characters with cancer, I've found hardly any with diabetes. So I wrote one.

And I contacted the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation International, the world leader in research and cure-hunting for type 1, and asked if they'd be interested in reading my book.

They said yes.

Yesterday I got word back from my publisher that they not only liked the book, they are going to feature it on their website in the fall (www.jdrf.org). They are setting up an entire new webpage for book reviews, and I am going to be the first book they review.

This is huge for me. HUGE. As in, international exposure on the world's largest diabetes website. My book is going to have the backing of the world's largest diabetes organization.

Newly diagnosed family are going to be put in touch with my book.

When I started writing, all I wanted to do was make a difference with my writing. Even if only with one person, I wanted my books to impact someone and change their lives. And now I have the opportunity to have thousands of families, hit with the shock of diagnosis. to not feel so alone, and to have a little hope that a cure is so darn close.

The book is so much more than diabetes, but this one avenue is a great start.

Can I do my little dance of joy yet? The dream continues to come true...

I Am Not My Character

When I began writing Some Kind of Normal in first person, the voice of Babs took over. There were times, especially in those early chapters, when Babs would say something that would make me cringe. Things that I went back and deleted, thinking: "I can't write that!" Especially when she calls diabetes a fat people's illness. Even now, I cringe.

Then I realized that this wasn't my story. It was Babs', and if it was going to be authentic, it had to be from her perspective, with all of her own quirks and flaws and prejudices. I had to let go of my internal editor and realize that readers will get that. Readers will understand that this isn't my opinion. It's fiction.

Yeah. Right.

Turns out, readers - especially those that know me - are looking for me in the book. And they assume some of it is me.

I take it as a compliment most of the time. I've had a lot of people I don't know ask if Babs is a real person, because they feel like she's real to them. That's the hugest compliment I could get. But the fact is, Babs is totally fictional. She's not based on me, or on anyone I know. And for the most part, I worked really hard making her as unlike me as I could so people wouldn't see me in it.

Yet, a character is always some part of the writer. We write from our own realm of experiences and exposures. From the simple things, like the kind of potato chips a character might be munching on to the larger things, like the way the way they might react getting life-changing news. We don't have to have eaten those chips or had that exact news, but exposure to the vast array in a grocery store or hearing bad news of another kind form a foundation from which an author can draw.

It's true that I might place characters in a Mexican restaurant because I like Mexican food (one friend pointed this out to me), but in truth, I put them in a Mexican restaurant because they are Texans, and when I lived in Texas, that's what most restaurants in the small town I lived in were. It felt more authentic than putting them in, say, an Olive Garden. So even though my experiences influenced the character's choice, my personal preferences didn't. (As proof, one character ate chile rellenos, which I hate!)

The fact is, readers don't connect with characters necessarily because they are living out the same plotline in their real lives. They connect because, despite the differences in situations, human emotions are common ground. 

In the way that Babs was brash and opinionated and loud, my newest character is quiet and angry and deeply hurt. She is everything I'm not. Which doesn't mean I haven't felt hurt or angry at times. I, too, once packed everything I owned in my car and drove half-way across the country to a state where I knew no one to set up a new life for myself. But for very, very different reasons, and with a very different relationship with my family.

And yet, I have no doubt some readers will read the book and make assumptions that there are secrets in my life I haven't shared. That there are regrets I haven't moved past. That I can't cook, got sick on tequila once, drink frappacinos, hate kids, ate pizza out of dumpsters, and have a knack for managing questionable adult clubs.

If I write this book well, that's what they will think.

And I'm okay with that.

The Signing! The Party! The Food! Oh My!

You know what I'm doing right now as I write this? I'm drinking a glass of champagne left over from the signing party on Saturday. It's left over because I drank almost nothing – ate almost nothing – at the party, such a fabulous time I was having!!

Can I back up and say it felt a bit like being a rock star the whole day? Well - a very small rock star...one that no one's heard about. But still, a rock star nonetheless. :)

I won't give the blow by blow, but I will say the day was hugely fun. And successful.

When I arrived at Barnes and Noble, the table was already set up with books and a sign announcing the signing. I was sandwiched between a table with Mo Willems books, which my seven year old thought was totally awesome, and the hardback bestsellers.

Highlights:

A guy with MS came up to talk to me about the book and the similarities with what diabetics face and what people with MS face...and the hopes and futures of both. A genuinely nice guy I loved talking to!

A couple stood off to the side for a while watching me sign books and talk to people, seeming very hesitant to approach. (I promise I don't bite!). When the crowd cleared a little they moved up and the husband kind of pushed her and said, "Go ahead. Just say hi." She was actually nervous about saying hi!! I wanted to tell her, "Seriously? Trust me, I'm more nervous than you!" I loved standing and talking to her for a few minutes.

I was within spitting distance of the Nook display, where I spent 30 minutes watching a salesperson trying to sell a Nook to a guy who clearly was interested but hesitant. I finally couldn't keep my mouth shut and started talking it up to him. He was so fun to talk to, even if he said he didn't care that much for fiction. I think I did get him interested in the development of adult stem cell therapy, and though I wasn't even going for a sell with him, I think he's downloading my book into the Nook I convinced him to buy. (and no, I didn't get a commission for it, although I tried to talk the rep into giving me one).

I sold out.

That was my favorite thing.

Even though the store ordered twice the amount of books as they usually do, I managed to sign and sell them all.

(Look! All but one of the books are gone! And that's the couple nervous to talk to me. I loved them!)

When I left, the check out clerk said, "You did really well!" and the representative invited me to come back another day for another signing, promising he'll order more books next time.

I didn't say anything too stupid, although the pictures might look otherwise, so I count it a raging success.

Then the party afterwards, which I don't have pics of because the house was too crammed with people and I spent so much time talking and chatting that I didn't even have time to drink the glass of champagne in my hand let alone find my camera. But it was fun. Lots and lots of fun.

It was supposed to end at 9:00. The last of the people left at 11:30. You know it's a good party when it goes twice as long as it was supposed to.

I'll be eating strawberries and drinking champagne all week, though. Which isn't a bad thing. Especially when accompanied by chocolate cake.  :)

The Journey

I'm down to a mere hours now before my first big book signing, and although the book has been out a few months already, this feels like it's the biggest moment since I started this journey towards publication. There are about 75 people that I know will be coming, along with a whole host of others that I don't. There are confirmed 50 that are coming to the party tomorrow night, and still some up in the air (and some grounded, literally, in Europe by volcanic ash).

When I woke up this morning I started thinking about what a long road it's been, and how this all started. And how far it's come. My life is not the same as it was at the beginning, and not just because I've written a book.

Two and a half years ago I knew nothing about publishing. I'd nearly finished my first book, one which I'd started two years prior to that, began with a vague outline and strong characters and then ended up pantsing the rest with dubious results. But as I neared the end of writing, I began thinking, "What now?" How in the world do you go about getting published?

So I did what any eager writer does.... I googled. Specifically I think I googled, "How to get published."  The first entry that came up was something called a blog (I'd never heard of one before) written by someone named "Miss Snark."  I figured I'd skip over and mosey through it briefly, find my answer, and be on my way.

This is the moment I found the addictiveness of blogging. I think it's also where I learned what voice meant in the writing world. Not because Miss Snark wrote what it was, but because she had such a strong one.

I never got back to my google list. I spent the better part of three weeks staying up until two in the morning reading through every one of her archived posts, along with every one of the comments. If you want to get published, everything you need is there. If you don't want to get published, but you enjoy an enthralling diversion, she's good for that too.

Through her I learned about query letters and agents and revisions. I found Janet Reid, Jessica Faust, and Nathan Bransford, the blogging agents that would become my staples over the next year. When I started to submit, these are the first three I chose. Within three days all three would request my manuscript.

Those would also be my first three rejections.

Instead of pressing on, I stopped to look at what I'd written in light of what the agents said (mostly that it was too slow a start), and decided to rewrite the beginning. So I rewrote. Then I rewrote some more. Which necessitated rewriting some of the middle stuff. Then the beginning had to be changed again. Finally it all got so muddied and I couldn't tell if any of them were better or just different, and I put the book away.

Then I started on Some Kind of Normal. This one took me six months to write, mostly because my fabulous writing partner and fellow author Jen Blom challenged me to a word-a-thon. In the summer of 2008 we both finished. I waited a few weeks to let the book sit, take a vacation, have crit partners read it, and then started back in September with the revising. By the end of October 2008 I was ready to query.

Unfortunately, the publishing industry was imploding with the rest of the economy, and whole publishing houses were completely suspending acquisitions. Some agents, likewise, began to stop taking queries. It was a rough time to break into the industry, I reasoned that, like other agents said, a good book is still a good book, and it will sell no matter what the economy.

I sent out over 100 queries over the next five months. Every time a rejection came in, I sent another out. Unless an agent specifically said not to, I sent the first five pages with my query. I knew this might cut down on requests, since an agent would be able to get a feel for the voice and writing before requesting, but I reasoned that would be less disappointment down the line.  I had 15 or 16 fulls requested out of that, and a number of partials that turned into fulls.

There were some high hopes in there. I received some tremendous feedback. Nearly every agent said they liked the story and thought my writing was very good. Two said they weren't taking debut authors in this environment because no one would buy them. Many said they just didn't know how to market  it to an editor. One clearly didn't like the Southern voice, which stumped me a bit because I'd send the first five pages to get that hurdle out of the way.

I sent my last query in February of 2009. I was done. I still had a lot out and not responded to, but I was done with the highs and lows, and ready to move on. Over the next few months a few more requests trickled in, and the first week of June I got the rejection to my last outstanding full. I'd lie if I said I wasn't heartbroken.

I decided to take a break from writing. I'd take the summer off at the least.

Then, out of nowhere, an author wrote me and said his publisher had seen my pitch on a forum next to a comment of his, and they were very intrigued. They wanted me to send on a proposal package. I sent my synopsis, first 50 pages, and a market analysis, and days later they sent me a contract.

It wasn't easy going a path that diverged from the mighty Miss Snark's path. No agent. Small publisher.

I hemmed and hawed. I had long conversations with the owner of NorLights. I had long conversations with my father, who is a contract-specialist lawyer. I had long emails with an agent I've kept in touch with who was still very interested in representing me on a different project than Some Kind of Normal. I had long conversations with my husband, myself, and God. It wasn't a quick or easy decision.

What I learned in all this is that there are lots of ways to get published. There are lots of valid ways to get published. And no one should tell you there is only one right way, or only one legitimate way. And sometimes the path you choose is not the path that chooses you.

I now have a book that is sitting on bookstore shelves.  A book people who I don't know are buying and reading. I didn't pay to have the book edited, published or marketed, and I get royalties. I have a book that is being considered for a national book club, a book that has been read and endorsed by people high in the medical field as well as other authors. I have a book that has landed on the Amazon bestseller list with Jodi Picoult and Michael Crichton.

I have a book.

And sometimes, like today, after all this time, I marvel at that. The ups and downs, the depression and elation, the determination and the frustration....

I have a book.

It's been a heck of a journey.

I hope this is only the beginning.

Would you like a side of irony to go with that champagne?

True Story.

Yesterday I was standing in the champagne aisle of the store on the phone with my husband. "How many do you think we need? And do we get the kind we can afford and risk looking cheap, or go big and go broke?"

He answers – no kidding – "Buy a few of each. We'll start with the plastic corked ones and then we'll move to the screw caps when it's late."

Ummm.... I don't think the plastic corks are considered the good ones, hon.

Anyway, I assumed he was serious about the first sentence and joking about the second. And so I loaded my cart for my first ever official Barnes and Noble Book Signing party on Saturday.

Yes. I am officially an "event" at Barnes and Noble. On the official national website. Like I'm a real author and everything.

So Saturday afternoon I'll be in Manassas, Virginia signing copies of Some Kind of Normal. (If you're in the area, come by!!)

It seemed, then, like a good time to have a party.

Okay, it's always a good time to have a party. Except when the book actually came out. Which was two weeks before Christmas and two days after two feet of snow. When we dug out and recovered from the holiday, another two and a half feet of snow dumped on us. By then, I'd arranged to do this book signing, so instead of doing a big book release party, we're doing my first book signing party.

In the interest of keeping it easy, especially since we're doing it on the same day, we decided to do just a dessert and champagne open house rather than a full-on dinner or appetizer thingy.

You know, because nothing says irony like toasting a book about a dying diabetic with cheesecake, chocolate, and champagne. :)

So now I have two days to wait, and my dining room table is loaded with enough champagne, cakes, pies, chocolate, etc. to throw me into a diabetic coma, and it's driving me to crazy temptation.

If you'll excuse me, now, I think I need to go order myself a few more vials of insulin. I think I'm gonna need it.

Another Review and an Interview!

Well, that trip to Seattle is paying off.  :) 

Kim Derting, fabulous author of The Body Finder, took time in the middle of her crazy schedule writing, revising and book releasing, to read Some Kind of Normal. And, as if it wasn't enough that we got to discuss the book over wine and pizza, she went and wrote a FANTASTIC review!  These gals can make a debut author blush.

And to boot, she wanted to interview me. Which was so cool. Totally not easy, but very cool!

So if you feel like meandering over there, here's the link.  And I promise, that's the way my kitchen really looks. Just don't go snooping around the rest of my house.

It's Friday; It's a Good Thing: Friends and Reviews

The good thing/thankfulness thing seems to be making it's way around the blogosphere today, and how cool is that? It's been a while since I've done one, I think, so I'm back with a special edition today.

What's a good thing?

Having someone you don't know read your book.

Having that person email you to say how much they like the book.

Finding out that person has a blog and becoming buddies.

Flying to a book launch of another author and actually getting to meet new blogging buddy!!

Finding out that person is even better in person than on the computer!!

THAT is the best!! But to top it off, she wrote a fantastic review that made me cry. Here's a peak:

And she leads us to discover that the story isn't about diabetes at all, or about controversial research, or really even about faith. It's about the love a mother has for her children, and the strength we find within ourselves to get up every morning and hope again, when we're certain there's no hope left.

In moments of panic and desperation, Babs will make you laugh out loud with her honesty and absolute simplicity. But don't be fooled by her candid humor; you're going to need the Kleenex, too.

But to read the rest, go visit her blog. All I can say is WOW!!

Hey Tam - You're my good thing this week! I love writing, just so I get to meet people like you!

NewsFlash: Amazon Rankings Beat Out Bad Hair Days for Mood Control

I got a bad hair cut today. One of those where I went in saying, "Just a little trim, please," and walked out with four inches chopped off and layers cut from here to kingdom come. LAYERS!!  I nearly cried. I did. My hair's now short. And poofy.

And then I opened my internet to stalk my amazon page and realized that someone must have bought my book. More than one someone.  Because my amazon ranking for Some Kind of Normal shot up to 29,000.

For those of you who don't know what the Amazon ranking is, it's somewhere between science and mystic wand-waving. I think technically it's supposed to mean that that many book sold more books than mine. They say it changes hourly for the best sellers, daily if your book sells ten or more copies a week, and weekly if your book sells less than that. Except mine changes nearly minute by minute, and I'm no John Grisham, so I have no idea what that means.

If you are an Amazon ranking watcher, you'll realize this number means... well...it means I'm no John Grisham. 29,000 is a lot of books beating out mine. But since my number has been as high as 700,000, today was looking pretty good.

But even more than that, under the amazon ranking was a new number...a new rank.

Some Kind of Normal is ranked #51 among medical fiction. #51!!!

I looked it up. You know what that means? It means I'm in the same list as Jodi Picoult and Robin Cook, on the same page as Patricia Cornwell and Michael Crichton; I'm sandwiched between Michael Palmer and Robert Ludlum.

My book was in the top 51 medical-based fiction books sold today.

Is that crazy???

I printed out the list.. all seven pages of it. I don't know if I'll ever get any higher, and knowing Amazon, I'll be back in obscurity tomorrow.

But today... today I rank with the best of the best.

And I decided maybe my hair looks pretty good just the way it is.

AND THE WINNER IS...

What a fun contest!  It sure cheered up my days, which were mostly overcast and cold!

I considered putting the drawing on video, but that would have involved sneaking my husband's computer again (because my computer is WAY older than built in digital cameras!), and I already had to sneak his Austrian hat (der manhut), and then I passed a mirror and realized it's been three months since my last hair cut, so I opted for the much less fun, less public, and less humiliating pulling the name out of the hat in private.

I did have my son actually pull the piece of paper out so it would be completely unbiased. It seemed anti-climactic since it took so long to put all of your names on those little pieces of paper.

But without further ado....


the winner of my debut book Some Kind of Normal and a handful of bookmarks is....


Corey Schwartz of Thing 1 and Thing 2!!!!

Yay!!!

The rest of you... thanks sooooo much for playing along with me!!  It meant so much to me that participated!

Contest/Give Away Day 3: Some Kind of Awesome!

Some Kind of Awesome was my favorite description of my debut book, Some Kind of Normal. It was so titled by fellow blogger and reviewer, Jessie Oliveros. Kristi, another fellow blogger and reviewer, told me she thought it would make me Some Kind of Profit.

Which led me to realizing how easy it is to turn my title into just about anything relevant to my life!

So here's the extra point possibilities for the book give away contest for today:

Turn my title into something fun and related to your life. You can add up to five for a total of five points.

BONUS: Five extra points if you can turn my title, like Jessie and Kristi did,  into something great about my book. You don't even have to have read it!

I'll start us off:

That was Some Kind of Snowstorm!!  The kids had Some Kind of Snowday off of it. I think I may be going Some Kind of Crazy!

Have at it, and have fun!