EVIDENCE OF MISSED OPPORTUNITIES

Beautiful books & wine missing smiling faces....

I woke up this morning and could have immediately kicked myself. Not for waking up. That’s a good thing! But for what I didn’t do last night. You see, I have this wonderful critique group, T.J. Bennett, Wanda Dionne, Joni Rodgers and Colleen Thompson. (You should check out their books for some great reads!) We meet, regularly; all of us try to get together twice a month. We read and discuss pages of current writing projects, which is good, but we also talk the writing biz and sometimes that is what is so sorely needed … a place and people to talk to about the vicissitudes of the writing life, the changes in our fortunes as we wend our way, each of us on our journey. We talk over our struggles to fit our writing lives into our other life responsibilities, like the demands of family and other employment. Sometimes it’s difficult for someone outside of your field, whether it’s writing or something else, to understand the particular process that’s involved, how it works, how and under what conditions it’s accomplished. Writing a book is like that, requiring of a certain, highly individual process. There are five of us in my critique group and each of us has a different way of getting a book done, and because we’re doing the same sort of work in the same field, we can commiserate, support and encourage each other in ways that are so meaningful. It’s so relieving when you’re feeling low about your job, to have somebody, or in this case four somebodies, who are familiar with the territory, to help you talk the trouble through.

But it’s also thrilling to have four somebodies to celebrate the highest, most exciting moments, too. I can’t say in words how much it has meant to me to share the joyful launch of  EVIDENCE OF LIFE with my critique sisters. They were there, literally, from page one and saw the novel through more incarnations than I can remember. If my blood, sweat and tears is wrought into every page, so is theirs. They are tireless, generous and loving midwives to my process, which brings me to our meeting last night and the reason I’m upset with myself this morning.

Yesterday boxes filled with the final copies of EVIDENCE OF LIFE came, and the book is beautiful. I held the fruit of all my labor in my hands. I think I may have danced a little happy dance with it. Earlier this week, I had picked up the lovely wine bottled in its honor by Gary Rodgers, the husband of critique partner Joni Rodgers. I knew I was hosting last night’s critique meeting and I had it all planned. I would serve each of my partners a signed book and a glass of wine with a frozen blackberry as a condiment.  (I have Jerusha, Joni’s lovely daughter to thank for the condiment idea!) And I did. And it was lovely! But did I take a picture? Even one photograph to commemorate the occasion? No! Can you believe it? And it was such a lovely moment, and it won’t ever come again. And all I have now is this rather sad “morning after” picture … a box of books, a few bottles of the wine—posed. So sad. So now I’m sending my critique sisters my apologies. They earned their books and bottles of wine, but I should have made a picture. They earned that, too. It was a Kodak moment if ever there was one, only Kodak and I were asleep at the wheel. But before I drag off to sit deeper in my slough of despond, and in case you’re wondering, the wine was wonderful. And the frozen blackberry added this little piquant kiss of the summer sun … it was just lovely! And you didn’t take a picture? No, I didn’t … honestly, what was I thinking….

EVIDENCE OF (Celebration) LIFE

EVIDENCE OF LIFE: in a bottle!

Today, I brought home the wine, a lovely pinot gris, that my critique partner and generous friend, Joni Rodgers and her husband, Gary, made to commemorate the momentous occasion of the debut on March 26th of EVIDENCE OF LIFE. The bottles are small and labeled with the book cover artwork. Gary made the wine. Joni designed the gorgeous label, (She also sampled the wine as it was being bottled. Somebody has to!) and Jerusha, their daughter, helped to sterilize and put in the corks. It was a true family effort, and I can’t say how much it means to me to be given such a wonderful gift in honor of my book and its publication.

Winemakers: Gary & Jerusha

When Joni first proposed the idea of bottling a wine, I was intrigued and thrilled by the idea, but actually seeing the end result is something else! The bottles are so artistic and stylish, such an elegant tribute to the novel. Unique, like Joni, Jerusha and Gary, themselves. Joni says that doing this for me, to honor EVIDENCE OF LIFE, is her and her family’s way to share in the joy. I think joy was poured into each bottle, and I treasure each one and the lovely thought that went into them, along with Joni, Gary and Jerusha too. Thanks so much, you guys!! I’ve been so lucky to have the benefit of so much encouragement, enthusiasm and support from so many people who have helped to bring this dream into being. I’ll be keeping a handful of these little bottles to remember this occasion and to remind me of just how much good is in the world, and how, sometimes, when your dream comes true, it can exceed your wildest expectations. It can knock you right out of your socks. Yep, I’ll be treasuring this and finding a new pair of socks!

Beautiful: EVIDENCE OF LIFE

Went for eggs & sugar, came back with foxgloves!

Antique Rose: Duchesse De Brabant 1857

Down here in Texas, we had scarcely any winter, and now, the week of Valentines Day, we are having spring, which is absolutely my favorite time of year until summer, when the night settles late and the oncoming darkness is laced with the song of crickets and tree frogs. When I had a pond, I also had a bullfrog. I loved him for the bass notes. Then I love fall when the light goes more quickly from the day and somehow the earth seems quieter, more contemplative. And I’m glad for the very short days of winter that keep me inside, tucked up reading and dreaming of something new I want to write.

Kramer's Supreme Camellia Standard

But now I’m in love with spring. All winter, what little there was, I’ve been immersed in a project that is entering its final stages, but every day for the last week or two, spring called; the song renews every year, and every year I respond as if I never heard anything so lovely before, or as if I’m still the person who was raised in more northern climes, standing awestruck at the sight of my mother’s daffodils blooming through the snow. Spring gets into the very air. It’s like a half forgotten melody. The feeling of it bubbles from a center that is both known and unknown, everywhere, and nowhere that’s fixed. It meets every sense with its irresistible invitation that whispers, Come outside. Come and play. Hey, I’m growing out here. Don’t you want to see? Come and smell this rose, that sweet olive. Look at this fat Magnolia bud that I have brought about just for you, or at least it seems that way. And that fat bud is as soft as cotton. The unfolding petals will be like satin and its scent will be something between sugar and lemon. Looking at it, my mouth waters and I am beauty-drunk, saturated with joy. I have an urge to skip.   

So, out I went one day this week and found that all this life was beginning, renewing itself without me, in spite of inattention. The photographs show the proof. Evidence of life abounds in my garden. And very soon, it will abound in bookstores, too! I wonder, when spring is oncoming, what is your first awareness? What is the very first inkling you have? The one that makes you pause and say to yourself: I have to go outside. I'd love for you to leave your answer in a comment....

Loved this novel: Garden of Stones by Sophie Littlefield

How far would you go as a mother to keep your child safe from harm? What could you be driven to do, if like Miyako Takeda in Sophie Littlefield’s beautifully rendered and touching novel, Garden of Stones, you knew that, ultimately, you could not be there to protect your young daughter from the horrible assault you know lies in wait for her? The answers to these questions would be difficult enough under ordinary circumstances, during peace time. But for Miyako and her daughter, Lucy, who are imprisoned and subjected to the inhuman treatment those of Japanese descent endured while they were kept in the U.S. interment camps during World War II, the times are anything but ordinary. When the story opens, it is some thirty years later, and a man, an American, who was associated with the camp, is found murdered. It’s a mystery and a source of terrible concern to Patty, Lucy’s daughter, when her mother is implicated. Unaware of much of her mother’s and her grandmother’s painful history, Patty assumes her investigation into the matter will prove her mother’s innocence. But what Patty learns, through a series of shattering revelations, will alter forever her ideas about herself and her courageous and lovely mother and grandmother. In this poignant narrative, a tragic history is recounted, and the true bravery of women and mothers is explored; there is the murder of a man, too. The ending contains unexpected twists, and a haunting question: Who is really responsible? Who committed the more heinous crime?

Inaugural Signing

On Tuesday, I signed my first book for Lillian Reitz, Community Relations Manager for Barnes & Noble's Champion's Village location in Houston. Joni Rodgers, a friend and critique partner, and a fabulous NYT bestselling author (and an "auntie" to this venture, for which I thank heaven!) took time from her busy schedule to drive down with me to see Lillian and talk to her about the possibility of doing a book launch event for EVIDENCE OF LIFE there. Champions Village is in a busy shopping center, on a busy north Houston street, and yet when you walk inside, you are instantly impressed with a sense of coziness, of welcome. Of course, there's the wonderful smell of books in the air, dozens and hundreds of books. And coffee. All kinds of coffee and assorted treats. But the best, or one of the best, parts of the store, and one of the reasons why it retains such a cozy, neighborhood feel, is Lillian herself.

Me signing a copy of Evidence of Life for Lillian - so fun!

Remember those little bookstores, the ones in the neighborhood where you could walk in and while away an hour or two or more, browsing and reading and talking books with the owner? Remember that lovely experience? That's what meeting with Lillian was like. I am more pleased than she can know that she agreed to having a book launch event there. It will be in April, and as soon as I have a firm date, I'll post it here on my website, but if you live anywhere near the Barnes and Noble in Champions Village, I highly recommend you stop in there before April.

It proves that even a big chain store can retain an element of something smaller and more intimate, something more personal and warm ... a bit of what used to be the charm of the Mom & Pop book store you loved going into not so long ago.

Announcing a Goodreads Giveaway!!

There are so few weeks left now until the launch of my novel, EVIDENCE OF LIFE, and I'm excited to post about a chance to win a free copy. Goodreads, a wonderful site for readers and authors, for book lovers of every persuasion and stripe, has 5 free copies to give away to 5 lucky winners/readers! I hope you'll click the link and hop on over to enter the contest for your free chance to win! If you're a book lover, but you aren't a Goodreads member, it's worth looking around the site at what's available there, everything from book discussions to book promotion. It's a great place to meet readers and authors and to discover new, fabulous books to read!

Click this link and enter for your chance to WIN a copy of EVIDENCE OF LIFE!!! Good luck and thank you to everyone for the boatloads of support! Please Tweet and Share as much as you like. The more the merrier!

Sharing the joy....

Hello 2013! Guess what? You aren’t in Kansas anymore….

From my collection - loved these growing up!

I can’t think of a better way to start this new year than with gratitude for the last one. 2012 was amazing for me. Doors opened that I had thought were closed. Gifts of people, resources and opportunities fell into my hands. I have stood in moments of awed wonder. Who is the benefactor of so much largess? 

A few years ago, when the course and landscape of my life was suddenly and radically altered, I made a choice. I don’t think I was aware at the time of my determination, that it was bone deep, soul deep. Maybe I had even made the choice long before and the events that altered my course were a test to see how devoted I was to walking my talk, to being true to myself. In retrospect, the choice seems almost “other” in the sense that it was something I was aware of, but almost as if it were another self or life than mine. I didn’t picture the end, my destination, too clearly. The gist of my intention was to keep writing. There was no money in it, no security, no medical or retirement benefits were attached. I was essentially flying by the seat of my britches. I laughed maniacally at times. I cried: What was I doing? Why was I so stubborn? Couldn’t I see my future if I persisted in going down this path, a self-indulgent pursuit of nothing to nowhere. Who cared a fig what I wrote?  But nothing I said to myself mattered. Whatever was driving the whole venture had its own idea about where it was going. In the immortal words of John Candy in the movie, Planes, Trains and Automobiles, I was “a twig in the shoulders of a mighty stream.” That’s just how it felt and I would have enjoyed the ride a lot more if I could have loosened up, but I’m afraid I didn’t. I was apprehensive the entire way.

I mean most people, sensible people in my circumstances, would do the conventional thing and get a regular job. They’d sock away for their retirement. They’d have weekends off and paid vacations, get a new car every two or five years. Not me. I kept writing, submitting, collecting rejections, day-after-day, weekends and holidays, stubbornly, persistently, hardheadedly, doggedly pursuing this nebulous, at times I could not have said what it was, goal—for lack of a better word.

And finally, last year in the very early spring, a door magically opened, first one and then another, and almost before I could even register what was happening, I was boosted up onto a path I had only ever dreamed of. I will never be able to put into words the effect this has had on me. It is like the headiest cocktail, an effervescent mix of emotions running a gamut between absolute elation and delight and total apprehension and panic. I am still in awe and so grateful to so many people, who believed in me, who encouraged me, who caught me up and steadied me when the path was dark and scary. I am thrilled and grateful for those who opened the doors to me, for their belief and continuing enthusiasm.

But here’s the thing, the couple or so things that I think I learned … first when they say persistence pays off, it’s true. If you quit, you’ll never know. Doubt is fine, fear is fine. In fact, I think both are part of the territory if you are determined to pursue a vision. How could it be otherwise? A true vision is individual. There’s no handbook, no set of rules and it’s about as far away from convention as you can get. That’s scary. No way around it. The other thing may be the most critical piece of advice ever given to the world, and it’s been around for centuries, vintage Shakespeare: To thine own self be true. Goethe said it another way: As soon as you trust yourself, you will know how to live. 

It is out of the swirling, fertile darkness that creation comes and you will never know that place if you always adhere to ritual, the expected, what is familiar and routine.

As Robert Frost said in these lovely lines from The Road Not Taken: 

Two roads diverged in a wood,

And I—

I took the one least traveled by,

And that has made all the difference

Life is vast and so beautiful and mysterious. And sometimes, when you jump off a cliff, you can fly.

I can only imagine the treasures that lie up this new year’s sleeve, but I think I’ll just go ahead and say thank you now. Happy 2013 everyone!