Pearls My Mother Wore

Back on June 10th, I mentioned that I’d gone to a senior living community (Atria Covell Gardens) to talk about writing Pearls My Mother Wore.  It was my hope that the book club there would then consider it for their book of the month, which they did.  Last Sunday was the book club’s meeting where they discussed my novel, and I was invited to attend, which I did.

Here’s a picture of Lucille.  At 94, she’s the oldest reader of Pearls, that I know of.

Lucille at Atria Covell Gardens, age 94

The book club gathering was an interesting first for me.  I wasn’t sure how much I should participate, having no idea how robust or lax their discussions tended to be.  I went in with the intention to mostly observe.

Andrea, the group leader, was a few minutes late in arriving, so there was no formal introduction or start.  Only three of the nine attendees had been at my initial book talk, so the new women were eager to get some background information and they launched right into asking me questions.  I abandoned the passive observer plan and jumped in.  Their questions were good and showed me that they had really read the novel and connected with the characters.  One women wanted to know why I hadn’t given Grayson, Kelly’s husband, more of a presence in the story.  I explained to the group that the novel had originally been titled Grayson, but while I was writing it, another book came out with that exact title, about a whale!  Initially, he had factored in more prominently, but as I wrote, I realized that I didn’t want the story to be about their love but more about her deep loneliness, isolation, and sense of loss.  I enjoyed telling them about how the story had evolved, and by the smiles and nods coming back at me, they enjoyed hearing about some of the various developments that had occurred along the way.

When Andrea arrived, we shifted gears for a few minutes  Attendance was taken and announcements were made.  Then attention was back on the novel and me.  Back and forth observations were made, and it was a thrill to have my character’s motives and behaviors defended amongst the group.  Given the demographic, I suppose it’s no surprise that one women said she almost stopped reading because of the foul language.  I didn’t want to come off as too defensive, although in my mind I was defending every single word choice.  I smiled at her and acknowledged, “Yes, it’s in there.”  And then I thought it was a score because she almost put it down…but she didn’t.  She read to the end and then showed for the meeting.

The lasting stinger came from the tiniest women in the room.  She thought my novel read like a high school creative writing project, and that I had been given a theme and told to write on it.  Ouch.  There was noticeable rumblings amongst the others, and at that the women qualified that her reading preference was for history and politics, not fiction.  So we moved on.

Some members of ABC - Atria Book Club

I’ve had a week of self-talk about the event.  I’m reminding myself over and over again that writing fiction is a highly subjective sport.  Some will like what I write and some won’t.  It’s part of the game.  If I can’t handle the criticisms and quit playing, then I sacrifice the praise, which I love.  My choice.

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

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