Pearls My Mother Wore

This week I activated a “Fan Page” on Facebook for Pearls My Mother Wore.  I also activated an author page for Terry Sue Harms.  It’s my third try with Facebook, and this time, I think its gonna work.  Nevertheless, I was so confused  about what exactly I was doing that I asked for help, and later this afternoon help is coming.  My Dentist, Dr. Yolanda Mangrum, referred me to Renea Church-Magnani who set up the dental group’s “Fan Page.”  Renea was easy to talk to and seemed knowledgeable enough to get me started.   Next week I’ll know what I’m doing, at the moment, I’m clueless.

I was re-infected with the Facebook bug this week because first Monday of the month means I was at the Left Coast Writer’s salon down in Corte Madera.  I’ve made friends with a couple of women in the group, Linda Watanabe-McFerrin, see:   http://deadlovebook.com and Cheryl McLaughlin,  and they always make a strong case for social networking on the Internet.

Oh, and I mean they’re real-life, friendly acquaintances, not Facebook speak “friends.”  See, this is confusing.  I’m going to need to find a new word to describe my touch-and-feel friends vs. what I hope will become a vast network of cyber-friends.  There is a difference, right?  It’s the same dilemma as finding a good way of describing the person you are coupled with when you’re not married and boyfriend or girlfriend doesn’t go far enough to describe the relationship.  Partner, lover, spousal equivalent, primary squeeze, friend with benefits, these connote something more intimate.  Since the word “friend” now appears to be in the domain of Facebook, I want to hunt for a word that will differentiate between my  face-to-face friends and my electronic friends.  Or is that being prejudicial?  Maybe the keyboard and monitor will provide just as much connection as I get with my …sentient friends…my accomplices…my playmates, comrades, pals, buddies, chums.  Chums, I think chum would have been a good word for Facebook to use, instead of “friend.”  It would be easier to un-chum somebody instead of un-friending  them.  But Facebook didn’t ask me about this, so here I am, hoping to have lots of “friends” on my Facebook “wall.”

Let me change the subject.  This week I got Pearls into two new bookstores, Book Passage (where Left Coast Writer’s meet) and Sonoma Bookends.  I also had a great conversation with our local Librarian, Stephan.  He says he thinks I’ll be able to do book talks in all of the Sonoma County libraries.  He’d already submitted the roster for his library through December, but after that, I could be on!  Another good bit of news is that it looks like I’ll be getting press coverage in our local “Sonoma Sun” newspaper.  The editor contacted me yesterday by e-mail and asked me to send her my news.  And, one last good book-news piece is that I have another author event scheduled for June 28^th.  I’ll be at the local senior community of Seven Flags, in their clubhouse.  The clubhouse is large, well-lit  and comfortable.  I’ll be looking forward to that.

It’s getting late, so I’d better go.  I’ll be sending out requests from Facebook to all my chums, so if you’re on, “friend” me.

I post every Friday, so until next time, have a great week.

            Earlier in the week, I was hunting through the 2010, 29^th annual edition of Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market.  It’s a useful where-to-sell and how-to-submit catalog for writers.  It names names and gives addresses for literary agents and publishers.  It lists numerous magazines and what types of short stories they’re interested in.  It lists writing conferences and workshops that are held throughout the year.  The inch-plus thick catalog also lists various literary contests, fellowships, and awards, exactly what I was looking for.

            In the fifty-three pages of Contests & Awards, I qualify for only one.  As a self-published author, I’m out of the running for just about every established honor there is.  Under “Pen/Faulkner Awards For Fiction,” is a sentence: “No juvenile or self-published works.”  Does that sound like a low-blow, or am I being tetchy?  …Breath…

            Anyway, the award I can apply for is called “Great Lakes Colleges Association New Writers Award.”  It was the only contest I found that gave permission for submissions to self-published authors and specifically first works.  Bingo, I fit.  When I Googled this award, my heart started racing; I would love to win this honor.  The Great Lakes Colleges Association (GLCA) is comprised of thirteen, private Liberal Arts Colleges, two of which I recognized: Oberlin and Antioch.  The winning prize is an opportunity to tour the GLCA campuses, do readings, conduct lectures and workshop, and promote and network to my hearts content.  A $500 honorarium is granted from each campus visited, plus, travel, lodging, and hospitality expenses would be covered.  There is no application fee.  All I have to do is send four copies of Pearls My Mother Wore before the deadline on July 25^th.  They will announce the winner in January 2011.  I’m on it!

            I’ve also applied for the 18^th Annual Writers’ Digest Self-Published Book Award.  A winner is to be announced at the end of October.  The grand prize is $3000 plus promotion in “Writer’s Digest” and “Publishers Weekly.”  Ten copies of Pearls would be endorsed and submitted to the top reviewers such as The New York Times and The Washington Post.  All entrants will receive some level of honorable mention.  That one cost $125 to enter.

            Before I go modestly back-peddling about my odds, I’d like to acknowledge that what makes entering these contests such a kick is knowing that even if I don’t win, I tried.  And, because of this blog, I won’t be alone however the results go down. 

            Until next Friday when I post again, have a great week.  And, as always, your comments are encouraged and most welcomed.

     Good Friday Morning!

I’m still inches off the ground from last night’s bookstore event where I was the featured author.  What a terrific experience.  Lilla and Andy, the owners of Readers’ Books made me feel so at ease and encouraged.  Here is what was written in their newsletter that announced the event:

“Pearls My Mother Wore.”

Sometimes you wake up one morning all alone on the wrong side of the bed. And sometimes after that your life is never the same. Come hear about a remarkable debut novel by a Sonoma writer that explores themes of loss and recovery, resentment and forgiveness.    

     How far-out is that?  Their opinion means a tremendous amount to me because of how vastly well read they are.  When it comes to contemporary literature, I think they have pretty-much seen it all.  And because I’m local, the bookstore went the extra mile to host a wine and cheese reception before my reading.  Here in Sonoma, Readers’ Books is a standout business, treasured by the community.  Their support is golden.  Thank you Lilla and Andy.

      There were about forty guests in attendance, an outstanding turnout.  It’s truly a gift to live in a community that celebrates effort.  Not everyone in the room knew me; they came because they support local authors.  I was so pleased to meet Elspeth; she came all the way from Santa Rosa to attend the event because she appreciates debut novelist.

     An unexpected plus from the evening was that Beth from the local radio station was there recording my talk, and it’s to be aired soon on a Sunday evening coming up at 7:00 P.M.  Perhaps there will be a podcast available to download.  I’ll be sure to post the link if there is.

     It’s my great hope that Pearls My Mother Wore will find an audience beyond my friends and family.  For that to happen, I will need help.  I need that exponential lift that occurs when one person tells another about a great read.  Please talk me up to all of your friends, and let’s see how far this can go.  Thank you!  Lilla and Andy have plenty of copies of Pearls at Readers’ Books.  Support our local independent bookstore; they’re very special.  Otherwise, copies can always be purchased from:  www.pearlsmymotherwore.com

     I post to this blog every Friday.  Please check in with me often, and say hi.  Have a great week; I’m sure I will.

     I can look at this in one of  two ways: pessimistically or optimistically.  My inner pessimist loves this measly pittance of a reimbursement.  It says, “See, I told you this wasn’t gonna work.  What a waist of time.  Why don’t we go hide until all of this writing nonsense is forgotten?  I won’t say anything if you won’t.  How much income tax do we have to pay on this?  Let’s see, there are 76,817 words in that novel, that means you earned 0.0006 cents per word, before taxes.  I’m impressed,” says my cynical pessimist.

     Luckily, there’s another voice that feeds me a second stream of thoughts.  My optimist says, “Right on!  A paycheck!  That makes you a professional.  You are in the game, and you can’t play unless you’re in the game.  It’s beautiful, let’s frame it.  It’s a ribbon across the finish line.  Who else do you personally know who gets writing royalties?  Hum…nobody.  That would be zero people, zero dollars.  You did it!  Let’s celebrate.”

     Here in Sonoma, we have a great consignment store named Sisters.  I found a gorgeous Asian style, mid-calf length dress that fits perfectly for $30.  After sales tax, that leaves me with over a twenty-dollars of Lulu balance.  Not bad.  I’m going to wear the dress next week to my very first bookstore event.  Readers’ Books, here in town, is hosting a reception for me and Pearls My Mother Wore.  It’s all good.

     Here’s something else to look at.  This week the Amgen Tour of California rolled through nearby Glen Ellen.  It’s a seven-day bicycle event that covers over 800 miles of California, and until yesterday, Lance Armstrong was in it.  TV coverage of the event can be seen on the Versus channel.  The average age of the riders, the peloton, is almost 29.  Many of the competitors will go on to the Tour de France in July:

Levi Leiphimer (local favorite from Santa Rosa)

Andy Schleck (strong, young rider, from Luxembourg)

Mark Cavendish (charismatic, hot head and sensation finish-line sprinter)

Tom Boonen (a powerhouse, from Belgium)

Fabian Cancellare (always a threat for the win, from Sweden)

Stuart O’Grady (strong and almost 38 years old)

David Zabriskie ( he won the third stage of this race)

Yaroslav Popovych, Jens Voigt, and Heinrich Haussler are also exceptional competitors. 

     Here are a couple of pictures from where Lutrell and I watched the cyclist go by:

We didn’t expect all this rain in May.

Aim a little higher for the mouth Mr. Water Bottle.

This is one big-time fan leading the peloton for a brief moment.

  Levi and Lance are in this group.   Lance has the yellow Live Strong bands on his sleves.  Live Strong is his cancer research foundation.   

     Have a great week and I’ll post again next Friday.

     This week I posted a letter to the editor of our local newspaper.  I don’t know if it will be published, but I sent it anyway.  I’ve never written a letter to an editor, so this was good practice.  I think I’ll try to do more of it.  That is, if I don’t get completely slammed for an opinion that is contrary to the editor’s. 

    The issue has to do with an expired lease contract that had been awarded to a local cattle rancher to graze his herd on local regional park land.  The regional park was originally purchased with local sales-tax money.  The editor and three web commenters are all in favor of the local rancher.  But the regional park district issued a new least to a cattle outfit from outside our county because their herd is bigger, garnering higher rent.  There’s an implied sentiment that the bigger outfit is bad because they’re bumping the local guy.  Another point has to do with the amount of carbon fuel being used when transporting the animals.  I have no idea about the finer details in this case, but this is the two-cents that I threw  in:

In considering Tuesdays Editorial, “Park lands for local cattle,” I was torn, but only for a moment.  I have no doubt Glen Mohring is unhappy about losing his cattle grazing pastureland, and I’m sorry for his troubles, but I wasn’t thinking about Rancher Mohring when I voted in favor of the quarter-cent sales tax increase.  I was thinking about increasing my property value as a result of preserved green space.  Healthy parks contribute to healthy real estate, and healthy parks cost money.  There are ranger patrols, trail maintenance, parking lots, picnic tables, garbage cans, and  clean toilets to pay for.  These expenses can make or break a quality park.  A good park is good for the whole community and worth paying for. 

For once, I’m hearing about a fiscal decision that has nothing to do with raising taxes or  cutting spending.  Here, Sonoma County Regional Parks actually gets to make a revenue generating choice.  Carbon footprint considered, I say give the lease to the highest bidder.  We can’t afford to play favorites and turn away the added income; not in this case.

            The argument that local taxes should support one local rancher sounds good on the surface, but what about local taxes supporting the health and value of the whole community? 

     If you are interested in this, you can find it all at http://www.sonomanews.com/ then search for “Park lands for local cattle.”

     Besides all of that, the week has been gorgeous here in Sonoma Valley.  I spent an entire day gardening and can now see the flowers instead of knee-high weeds.

     Have a good week, and I’ll post again next Friday.

     Last Monday, I woke up and outlined the first four chapters of a possible sequel to Pearls My Mother Wore.  I’d been resisting the idea of writing another book because Pearls took up so much time and demanded a lot from me emotionally.  I think it was Rita’s nudge from last Friday’s post that had me thinking all Sunday night.  For a while, something was knocking around in my head, but Monday morning it was all much clearer, so I wrote it down in outline form.  I’m still trying to think of where those first four chapters would go plot-wise, but interesting bits are floating into view.

     Also last Monday, I was introduced to Michelle, my friend, Barbara’s, granddaughter.  Michelle writes and does book reviews for the Point Reyes Light and for her school (Santa Rosa JC) newsletter.  Michelle said that the Santa Rosa Press Democrat sometimes picks up the JC’s book reviews and uses them in that newspaper.  What a charming gift this would be if this young woman would be the first professional reviewer of Pearls My Mother Wore.  

     And finally, last Monday was the first Monday of the Month, which means a meeting of my Left Coast Writers club.  Tim Cahill, a veteran travel writer, was the guest speaker.  One of his memorable comments was that travel writing from the female perspective is generally lacking in the genre and in demand.  There you go lady adventurers; If you find yourself with a story to tell, tell it.

     Have a great week!

     The first time I drove a car was in the mid 1970’s on some less-traveled road outside of Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.  I was with my best-friend, Deanne, and her mother, Cheryl.  At that time, Puerto Vallarta was a quaint fraction of what it is today.  Cheryl had been a young mother, so this trip was more girls-on-holiday than a formal family vacation, nothing wild, but fruity, liquor drinks with umbrellas were allowed.  I was around seventeen. 

     When Cheryl asked if I wanted to drive our rented Volkswagen Thing for awhile, I said, “Sure!”  I had always been an observant passenger; I was clear about the steering wheel, accelerator, break, turning signal, and rear view mirror.  No big deal.  We were moving down the road at a reasonable clip; I was relaxed and doing fine. 

     The only scary moment occurred when Cheryl asked me how I had learned to drive. 

     “What do you mean?” I replied.

     “I mean who taught you?  When did you start?”

     “Cheryl, right now.  This is my first time driving.”

     “What!?  Holy Shit!  Pull over!” 

     She was so freaked-out, I started freaking.  Nobody had been killed.  We hadn’t ended up in a ditch.  All the fenders were intact.  Cheryl had been perfectly at ease until she learned I was a beginner.

     This experience is remarkably similar to my initiation into writing.  I, sort-of, do O.K. until somebody with more practice screeches, “Stop right there.  You can’t just start writing.  You must be taught the rules.  There’s grammar and punctuation, metaphor and simile, climax, dénouement, plot and character development.  The rules for god sake, the rules!”  I get all self-conscious and nervous when that happens.  My little creative flame sputters as if someone has just spit-sprayed all over it.  I’m much better off with guides who stay calm and assure me that I’m doing just fine, “Keep going.  You’ll get there.  You’re doing great.”

     In the March/April issue of Writer’s Digest, in the MFA Insider section, is an interview with Leslie Epstein, an author of 10 novels and director of the Creative Writing Program at Boston University for over 30 years.  For twenty years he’s been compiling a list of don’ts for his students.  He calls them “tips.” 

     While some of his pointers have merit, it’s his overall cynical tone that makes me crazy.  What a spirit-killer.  Hoping he was simply making fun of heavy-handed critics, I was corrected.  He says, “ You may think, owing to certain tonal qualities, that my tongue is oft in my cheek or that I strew the occasional grain of salt.  You would be wrong. I mean every word.” 

      His constantly growing file of student’s literary blunders reads like a big joke, but only he (I would hope) is laughing.  In this article “Tips for Writing and for Life,” Epstein comes across as a modern day Polonius.  “Spell all right as I have here (not alright).”  “Don’t pronounce the final e in forte…”  “Avoid ellipses…”  “Do not say…”  His opinion of the wisest statement ever made about creative writing is “A real poet does not say azure.  A real poet says blue,” from Elsa Lasker-Schuler.  That’s the wisest?  “…avoid large abstract nouns…”  “…avoid stories about old people on the verge of death or mad people or children.  (I might add that clowns, dwarves, mimes and people wearing masks should be abjured as well.  Nor am I a fan of wind chimes.)”  “Do not write satire.” 

     And this line of thought would have my novel, Pearls My Mother Wore, dead on arrival;  “It is important to avoid insofar as possible writing from subjective points  of view — that is, writing about people’s feelings, their thoughts, and above all about their memories and dreams.  (To put it another way, do not write like Virginia Woolf.)”

     I thought I was driving just fine.  Stop the car.  I need some air.  Did someone just spit-spray?

P.S. to the blog – I just sent this bit of writing to the Reader Mail at Writer’s Digest.  I let you know if they print any of it.  Hope, hope.

I’ll write again next Friday, all willing.

P. S.S.  Hey, how cool is this?  I just got a reply from Writer’s Digest.

Thank you, Terry.

Your blog post is eloquent, and while it may not be what Leslie Epstein would like, I prefer to believe that most, if not all, writing rules were made to be broken. Or, to quote Pirates of the Carribean: “They’re more like guidelines, anyway.”

Best wishes,

Vanessa

www.writersdigestshop.com

     So writing at Cafe La Boheme was terrific.  There were four of us: Cary, Caitlin, Benjamin, and myself.  The first thing they did was to write prompt sentences on slips of paper, fold them and toss them in a pile.  I misunderstood that initial instruction and therefore did not contribute any kick-off sentences; nevertheless, there were plenty created.  We each had a turn at unfolding a slip of paper and reading the inspiration sentence.  And then we wrote for about ten minutes.  And then we shared what we had written – passing was an option, but none of us used it.

     Cary chose the first slip of paper.  It read, “Not everybody can be Hunter S. Thompson.

     This is what I wrote, off the top of my head:

Not everybody can be Hunter S. Thompson.  Somebody has to be his handler, the manager, the sweeper of messes.  Hunter must, by order of being, create conditions for the satellite people to circle in.  Hunters of the world are the gifts that keep giving if you are a fixer.  Fixers need those ruinous-wreak types.  Its such an added bonus when they happen to be brilliant at the same time, but brilliance is not a requirement when it comes to fixers.

When your ruinous-wreak type finds clever and unexpected ways of creating utter chaos – it’s fun.  Who wants the everyday variety of chaos: suicide attempts, overdoses, jail.  A really brilliant ruinous-wreak type gets on airplanes and calls you in the middle of the night to have you wire them money in Argentina or Rio.

     If I had had time to edit this, I sure would have.  After I finished reading I realized how out of my depth I was.  I really don’t know too much about Hunter S. Thompson.  While I was writing, I remembered that he was dead, but I wasn’t thinking about how he died.  Later, I started thinking it may have been by one of my run-of-the-mill ruinous-wreak type scenarios.  Sorry Hunter, I didn’t mean it that way.  Even though I didn’t know you, I’m sure you were never run-of-the-mill.

     The other three prompts that we wrote on were:

She held up a hand to block the sun.

Birds swooped down around my head.

And, I work in a very large office.

     I was given all of the folded pieces of paper as a souvenir, and here is what was written on those remainders:

Any bonds today?

People bunched up at the bottom of the stairs.

Deep the water and shallow the shore.

I was late and arrived out of breath.

And one that took me by surprise:  Terry’s hair is red.  My shirt is red.  I’m thinking

     So there you have it.  Please feel free to write on one of these and don’t edit.  I’d love it if you’d share what you come up with.

     Until next Friday when I’ll post again, have a great week.

Good Friday to all visitors. 

My Friday entry will be posted later in the day because I am going to San Francisco for a casual writing soiree at Cafe La Boheme.  I’ll be meeting my writing mentor and friend, Cary Tennis.  I honestly don’t know anything more about this cafe writing then it goes for an hour, Cary does it regularly, and everyone is welcome.  I’ll know more after I’ve been.  Maybe I’ll become very creative in the San Francisco cafe scene and write something really cool.  I’ll share it if I do.

     I’m happy to report that I currently have a reading gig scheduled for 7 P.M., Thursday, May  27^th at my local bookstore: Readers’ Books. 

     After I secured the date, I took a copy of Pearls My Mother Wore and a copy of my press release to Two of the local newspapers: The Sonoma Index Tribune, The Sonoma Sun (or Sol in Spanish.)  With all the moxie I could muster, I entered the news offices and announced that I was newsworthy.  The receptionists were amused and took my info.  It’s too soon to hear back; this I started telling myself the moment I left their offices.  It’s not that I’m not newsworthy, it’s just that it’s too soon, right?  Right.

     I took other nervy actions on behalf of the novel this week.  I petitioned Glide Memorial Church in San Francisco for an endorsement.  Google them if you don’t know about their amazing inclusion policy.  I also sent review requests to The San Francisco Chronicle and The Oregonian.  

     Can I just say how proud I am of myself.  This asking for recognition stuff taint easy.

     ‘Taint.’  Can you tell I have been reading Mark Twain’s The Adventures of Tom Sawyer?  It’s our local selection for The Big Read.  The Big Read is a program funded by the National Endowment for the Arts since 2006.  It’s intended to combat the decline in literary reading among students and adults as well as to promote reading for personal enrichment.

     I hadn’t read The Adventures of Tom Sawyer or Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, and I do, in fact, feel enriched having done so.  Tom Sawyer is credited as being the first truly American novel, written in distinctly American vernacular, with distinctly American characters. Originally published in 1876, it unapologetically flouts the high-tone literary conventions of Europe by portraying a simple society with complex motives. 

     I thoroughly enjoyed reading the book, but it’s a hard sell to my guys at Hanna Boys Center.  They find it excruciatingly “boring.”  Its linguistic flourishes are flowery, sophisticated, slangy, preachy, convoluted, and exceedingly difficult to follow without a lot of life experience.  Even though it’s a story about boys, I don’t think it’s necessarily for them.  I’m charmed by Twain’s characters, but I’m almost fifty years old.  I don’t think boys today find boys from another era charming.  I have to do a lot of talking to get them to see where the personality traits of old are just the same today.  The trickster, the braggart, the town drunk, the doddering aunt, the simpleton, they all still exist. 

     I hate to think that this book is doing more to deter kids from reading than help, but I suspect it is.  It’s my long-held opinion that reading is an entertainment only when the reader connects with the story.  If that doesn’t happen, then reading is torture; they might as well be reading the Health Care Bill, or tax code.  Handing some kids The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and telling them to read it, is like handing toddlers the keys to a Ferrari and telling them to drive it.  It’s not gonna happen, and someone could be hurt in the process.  Literary overwhelm gets kids to start repeating over and over, “I hate to read.”  It did me.

     How I broke out of that is nothing short of a miracle.

            Thinking of you, and I’ll post again next Friday.