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JUNE 2009

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It’s June, people! June 2009! How did this happen? Time went
by, and I turned around, like, twice, and now it’s summer (almost)
again. My roses and foxgloves are blooming. My kids will be out of school
as of tomorrow. We have two vacations planned, plus numerous sailing
trips on the Chesapeake Bay to look forward to. And besides all that,
I’m in the mood to be lazy. So are my kids. We’re listening
to “Multiply With Power” with far less interest on the way
to school each morning. I find myself NOT checking their homework quite
so thoroughly (if at all), and I feel like every day should be some
sort of mini celebration—summer is a reasonable excuse for too
much ice cream or impromptu salsa and chips or hanging out by the pool
well past six o’clock and just winging dinner.
Maybe it’s the Southern girl in me, but I like to sweat. I love
it when the temperature soars and everyone around me is whining about
it. Secretly, I am thinking YA-HOO, let it be hot. Next thing you know
we’ll all be complaining about snow! Give me bare feet and T-shirts
and no makeup any day. Put me in a garden, and I’ll pick weeds
happily. Slice up a tomato and boil a few ears of corn, and that’s
my idea of bliss. Plus, summer is the time when stories come. At least
this is how it works for me. Maybe it’s all those hours spent
outdoors or listening to my girls pretend or the opportunity to sit
at the beach and watch people behind the cover of sunglasses. If you’re
a writer, summer is a fertile time because the best stories show up
when you’re running up that big hill or half-asleep by the pool
or staring at what you think are weeds but could actually be those zinnias
you planted weeks ago.
When my brother and I were little, my mother would begin each summer
vacation by saying, “Before y’all know it school will be
starting again.” I hated it when she said that, but she was right.
Now here I am SO many summers later, yet I’m still just as excited,
eager to monitor the hummingbird feeder or to jump on the trampoline
with my girls. Or better yet, to lie on said trampoline and look up
at the big ol’ summer sky. Because you know what, school WILL
be starting again before we know it.
Happy almost summer, y’all.
MOTHER'S DAY 2009
So it’s almost Mother’s
Day, and since losing my mom to cancer five years ago, I’ve
come to realize what a truly special day it is. It’s a special
day for all the folks like me who no longer have moms. We’ll
spend at least part of May 10th muddling through. It’s a
special day for mothers-to-be. For the first time, you’ll
be joining the “motherhood club,” and it’s a
great group, especially once your baby is sleeping through the
night.
Mother’s Day is really nice for those of us who have older
children because said children are now big enough to bring us
breakfast in bed (Elsbeth) and clean the kitchen (Flannery) and
go out and purchase gift cards for manicures (Cassie). |
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Some “children” are in the process of losing their moms
to cancer or Alzheimer’s or countless other wicked diseases that
strip away layer upon layer until you no longer recognize your mother.
If that’s your situation, you and your mom should have a special
place of honor this Mother’s Day.
So many people have relationships not at all fitting for those sparkly
Hallmark cards. Maybe your mother has never really been there for you,
or she’s done unspeakable things you cannot forgive, at least
not now. For you, Mother’s Day might be an occasion to forget
rather than remember. Or, perhaps it’s time you found a good surrogate
mom. Luckily, I have a few of those myself.
For a long time, I was a single mom, and there were years when Cassie
was too small to buy a card or purchase a gift. Mother’s Day came
and went with little recognition of the sacrifices and compromises I
was making. More than once I’ve heard the term “single mother”
said with disdain, but to my way of thinking, single mothers are the
most important ones of all. Without them, where would so many of us,
myself included, be?
On Mother’s Day 2009, I will spend time with the three girls
who matter most to me: Cassie, Flannery, and Elsbeth. I’ll also
take a few minutes to look through old photos and remember the mother
I was lucky enough to have for so many (but not nearly enough) years.
MARCH / APRIL 2009
I WANT CANDY!
As I’ve said again and again, I love hearing from readers. This
cute photo of some enthusiastic book clubbers definitely made me smile—notice
the Slim Fast beverages and ALL of Rosie’s favorite candy (mine,
too!) Thanks so much to Rebecca Pearson and her ABC Book Club of Hollister,
California, for allowing me to share this delicious picture with all
of you.

On another note…It’s SPRING BREAK 2009!
I’m on vacation in lovely Outer Banks, North Carolina, as I write
this. It’s rainy, a little on the chilly side, and we have no
hot water at the moment. The maintenance guy is here to figure out what’s
going on. I stand corrected: the maintenance guy just informed us the
condo we’re staying in needs a NEW hot water heater. And guess
what, I don’t give a rat’s patootie. It’s not my condo
(sorry owners—I feel for you). It’s not my hot water heater.
It’s not my problem. A shower would’ve been nice, better
yet, a hot bubble bath, but the most energy I’ve exerted today
was wolfing down a few nachos and some mild salsa. Since it was mild,
I didn’t even break a sweat, so who needs a shower?
Normally, I am all over this kinda thing. A new hot water heater would
make me cringe. How much? When can you install it? Will this make a
mess? If so, how much of a mess? I’d stress about what time these
hot water heater people were gonna show up. After all, it would interfere
with my work schedule. But not today. At this very moment, all I’m
thinking about is whether my husband will grill the burgers or cook
them inside. And I’m hoping they’re not too rare (he’s
prone to under-grilling).
Back in high school, I was very good, maybe a little too good, at letting
things slide. Mostly, I worried about what I was doing on Friday and
Saturday nights. I concerned myself with really serious topics, like,
whether or not my Wendy’s paycheck would cover a new outfit, or
at least a pair of cute shoes from Payless. I slept late without guilt,
and to be honest, a bad test grade didn’t make me want to fling
myself off the Duck River bridge. My favorite things in life back then
were simple: hanging out with my best girlfriends, talking on the phone,
consuming Little Debbie cakes and a Sundrop after school, keeping a
clean room (some compulsions are with you for life), and picking fresh
flowers from our yard. OH, and I loved the drive I made across town
each morning on my way to school. There was something so Mary Tyler
Moore liberating about hopping in my little blue Gremlin, turning on
the AM (Lord, I’m old) radio, and driving myself to school.
When the weather got warm, I slathered on Hawaiian Tropic and flopped
down on that aluminum foil thingy. I soaked up those UV rays without
a care about premature aging or skin cancer. Do I worry about such things
today? You betcha. I spend half my life worried about something, as
do most of my friends, especially now. The housing market sucks. The
economy sucks. The news sucks. Getting older sucks (sometimes). Losing
your parents definitely sucks.
There was a time when the adult me chastised the kid me for all the
mistakes I made. After all, I could’ve studied so much harder,
been so much more—taken life and school and UV rays far more seriously.
But maybe I knew instinctively it was all gonna get really serious really
soon.
Right now I’m on spring break with my sweet family. My youngest
has Legos scattered all over the floor. My husband just poured more
salsa into the bowl, and it’s past six o’clock. When will
we feed the girls? What time will they go to bed? And will that hot
water heater ever be replaced? I think I’ll just sit here and
watch it rain.
FEBRUARY 2009
| So, there are lots of good
things about being a YA writer. You never have to grow up. You never
have to “get over” high school. Instead, you get to
relive it as a totally different person, which is unbelievably interesting
(and often difficult). You write for the MOST important audience,
teenagers. You actually get paid to make stuff up. The Internet
is part of your job, as is blog reading and/or visiting Facebook.
You are required to read lots and lots of books. You’re free
to be your introverted self, and if you’re just the tiniest
bit quirky and opinionated…well, that’s okay, too, because
you’re a writer, and people sort of expect that from writers.
The very best part of all, however, is getting mail from readers.
I can’t speak for other writers, of course, but when I get
a heartfelt note from a reader, it makes my day, reminds me why
I do this, to connect with this big ole world. |
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If you’ve written to me, I thank you. Writing can be a little
too solitary at times, so it’s always wonderful to hear from readers!
With the reader’s permission, of course, I’ve decided to
share this note I received a couple of weeks ago. It’s a good
reminder that books really are powerful tools for healing. I’ll
be back in March. For now, I’m on a deadline and duct taped to
my computer (another part of being a writer).
I got a hold of When
Irish Guys Are Smiling from the library and wanted to congratulate you
on a job well done. I found the book hard to put down once I had started
it. I didn’t expect to be able to relate so closely to so many
of the characters. Like Trent and Brent, I have ADD and can’t
stand being locked up and forced to learn. Like Lucy I take on the motherly
role even if I’m not related to a person. I definitely can relate
to Tomboy Iris. We both love sports and don’t ever think a guy
will like us as a girl rather then “one of the guys”. The
funny thing is I can’t relate to Latreece and we’re even
from the same town!
What I was really surprised by was how much I felt I could relate with
Delk, who at first I didn’t think we had much in common (till
I read the summary on the back). See, my mom passed away in 2003 after
being diagnosed with breast cancer. I was nine and my brother was about
six. It was just before fifth grade and the next year my dad introduced
us to Laurie, my current step-mom and her two kids (both younger then
me) and then, like Delk they eventually got married. At first I felt
the same way Delk did, that my stepmom was trying to take my mom’s
place and change everything, but it was also like she was trying to
take, well, trying to take the role of mom from me. As weird as that
sounds, I was the only girl after my mom so I felt like it was my duty
to be the woman of the house. After a while I felt like I could trust
her, and though I liked her when I first met her, we became very close.
Now my stepmom wasn’t twenty seven and didn’t have a baby
and I obviously didn’t go to Ireland and fall in love with an
Irish farmer hunk, like lucky little Delk. But I wanted to, I really
did but I felt like I needed to stay with the family.
The main purpose of this email isn’t to divulge my life story
but more or less to thank you. Thank you for writing a book that gives
an accurate portrayal of what it’s like to lose a mother, not
only for me but for the hundreds of girls who have gone through the
same thing. You wrote it amazingly well and I’ve lost track of
how often I was like “oh yeah! I know what that’s like.
Man did that suck” or what ever it was I said. Something else
that’s funny? My mom had a Claddagh ring and I’m supposed
to receive either that ring or my own. My mom’s family was welsh
and Irish so that’s another way I could relate. I’ve always
wanted to see Ireland, not the cities but the country like Connemara.
Now I want to visit Ireland even more then before.
Thank you for writing such a wonderful story, even if it was a part
of a series. It was a reminder that I’m not alone out there and
that everything does get better. I like the metaphor you used, “like
running a race with a rock in your shoe” it’s pretty darn
accurate. I loved how you portrayed the Irish culture and the family
element they have, it was wonderful and you wrote the dialogue so realistically.
But mostly thank you for writing a wonderful story that reminds girls
like me that there is sun at the end of the storm or what have you.
I know it might not mean much since I’m sure you have a lot of
fans but thank you so very, very much. It was a touching, realistic,
well written story.
JANUARY 2009
My Wishes for the New Year
1. That I will eventually recover from a head/chest cold I have now
had for THREE WEEKS.
2. That my children will play with the toys Santa brought instead of
the plastic sleigh they retrieved from the log cake. And, yes, said
sleigh is still coated with bits of dried out chocolate.
3. That I will be able to resume my respectable breakfast of cinnamon
raisin toast rather than consuming the cream cheese bourbon pecan pound
cake I’ve had each morning for days now.
4. That someone will invent a 12-step program for Amazon and HGTV addicts.
5. That the vacuum cleaner will hold out at least until the prickly
tree needles are sucked out of the rug.
7. That my husband will use the vacuum cleaner to suck up the needles.
8. That my revisions will go well, and I won’t find myself reading
blogs instead of doing my work.
9. That Sarah Dessen and John Green and Jennifer Weiner will continue
to blog.
10. That the work we are about to do on our very old farmhouse won’t
interfere with the work and/or blog reading I need to do.
11. That I will stop fretting about things I can’t control—the
rapid passage of time, the loss of loved ones, the weather, the economy.
12. That I will continue to be blessed with a family that is beyond
wonderful and friends who love me and work that fulfills me and a home
that keeps me warm (except for when I sit in front of the family room
window).
13. That I will think of something else to wish for so that I don’t
stop this list on number thirteen.
14. OH, that if you’re reading this, you will get the important
things you wish for in 2009.
Happy New Year!
NOVEMBER/DECEMBER 2008
So, it’s winter. Well, not exactly, but close. The holidays are
around the corner—YIKES—and I don’t know about all
of you, but I’m feeling slightly whatever this year. In fact,
I’m all for ordering everything at discount off eBay, not even
bothering with the mall and creepy parking garages and door dings. Somehow
I know this attitude will shift, though, at least the mall part (the
discount part I’m sticking to). The transformation will go something
like this: two days after Thanksgiving I’ll start listening to
my cheesy radio station, the one that plays Christmas music from Halloween
till Valentine’s Day; next, I’ll buy that first gift, from
Wegman’s probably, because it doesn’t look like it came
from a grocery store and it was marked down; then, before I know it,
I’ll be officially sucked in—crying over that Amy Grant
Tender Tennessee Christmas song and schlepping multiple packages through
the hot, crowded food court in search of a Diet Coke.
There’s also the yearly Christmas card dilemma. Will I send them
or not? It’s time consuming, expensive, and do people I haven’t
laid eyes on since 1993 really want another posed picture of my children,
kids some of them have never even met, I might add? Perhaps not. I’ve
often fantasized about sending a real-life Christmas card, one that
actually semi resembles our days—spelling tests and math facts,
too much Sponge Bob, and ringworm. Recently, one of my friends battled
head lice at her house. Now there’s a Christmas card theme I could
appreciate. The children were nestled, all snug in their beds, while
little white bugs danced in their heads!
This morning, like most mornings, I drove my kids to school. Satellite
radio was happily playing 80’s tunes, and my girls weren’t
fighting or whining or claiming they forgot something. It was a rather
cheerful little morning until my eyes moved slightly to the left and
I spotted a McMansion. It was massive and well-manicured (most are),
and it was situated on what used to be a field with cows (again, most
are). It was also decorated for Christmas—on November 20th! My
sleepy eyes bugged slightly, and there might’ve been an under-the-breath
word or two. I kept driving, my shiny mood dimmed slightly by the seasonal
to-do list that began forming in my brain. To top it all off, the pizza
delivery man showed up tonight, and it hit me why he always seems so
familiar. He looks like Santa Claus!
Just so I’m not outdone by a really efficient suburbanite (I’m
picturing Brie of Desperate Housewives), I’ve included a couple
of amusing photos from Christmases past.
Happy Holidays!
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Fall 2008
It’s officially fall, but I am not ready for cold weather and
dreary winter days and snow and ice and chapped lips and pasty skin.
I don’t want to winter-ize the sailboat and plug that strange
electric blanket thing up to our outdoor spigot to prevent the pipes
from freezing. I don’t want to sit in front of the television
and feel the cold air biting my neck and think about how we really should’ve
replaced the windows. I don’t want to have my writing time disrupted
by snow days. NO! I want the beach and the sun and those warm summer
nights with croaking frogs and lightning bugs. I want tan skin. I want
toenail polish. I want flip-flops. I want those afternoons at the pool
and a reasonable excuse for not bathing my children—chlorine kills
the germs.
It’s true, though. Summer ’08 is officially over.
There are some good things about summer being over. Actually, I can
think of two things: new episodes of The Office and the sound of the
school bus lumbering up my street each morning. I love that sound, even
though I’m glad I no longer ride the Stupid Smelly Bus, as Junie
B. Jones calls it. The bus is so much more appealing in my memory (all
sunny and yellow) than it was in real life—stale air, cracked
vinyl seats, gum stuck everywhere, and smudged windows that never opened
properly, which explains the stale air. I digress…
So why am I so reluctant to let summer go? I can sum it up in two words—Artichoke’s
Heart. This was the summer I’d been waiting for most of my adult
life, the summer of publication. This was the summer when I became an
official author, and you know, I have to stop blogging about this and
get over the whole I’m-now-a-published-author thing, but a first
book is like a first child. It may seem like just another book/child
to everyone else, but to you it feels like a miracle.
So, what’s next? Well, the new book, Somebody Everybody Listens
To, is in my expert editor’s hands for now, and since I’m
not big on days off, I’ve started yet another book. Down time
for me is just down time, if you know what I mean. In other news, I’ve
been getting emails from WONDERFUL readers, which is always nice, so
thank you if you’ve written to me, and I recently attended the
Baltimore Book Festival. I’m also going to Nashville for the Southern
Festival of Books, and I’ll be doing a live chat with librarian
Sarah Bean and her teen readers out in Springfield, Missouri. In November,
I’ll be signing books at St. John’s Church in Glyndon, Maryland,
and there are a few school visits in the works, so keep checking the
website for details.
Even if summer ’08 is a thing of the past, life is good and busy.
It’s also pretty exciting to think that the next time I blog (unless
I get better about blogging) our nation will have a new president! No
matter what your political views are, please go out and VOTE! And, if
you’re not old enough to vote, nag your parents and grandparents
and teachers to vote!
Happy fall to all!
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| The very, very, very rainy Baltimore
Book Festival! Thank you to the Book Divas for making this such
a great event in spite of the lousy weather. www.bookdivas.com |
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L to R: YA authors Brad Barkley (Jars
of Glass), Robin Wasserman (Skinned), Diana Rodriguez Wallach (Amor
and Summer Secrets) and me (having a very bad hair day). Our lovely
moderator is Book Diva diva, Leah Messina. BBF photos are courtesy
of Diana Rodriguez Wallach. You can check out Diana and her books
at www.dianarodriguezwallach.com/blog/blog.html |
Summer 2008
Well, Artichoke’s Heart is OUT! What an incredible
yet terrifying and crazy experience! Seriously, you dream about something
your whole adult life, and then it happens. Wow!
On publication day I went to lunch with several of my fiction students
and my two youngest daughters (my oldest daughter was taking a writing
class that day). It was the perfect way to celebrate. First of all,
my fiction students are THE BEST. They are talented writers who truly
respect and understand the creative process. Even better, they are funny
and don’t mind sharing their lives with me. Even better than that,
they are extremely thoughtful. So thoughtful, in fact, that when they
learned I planned to spend publication day taking my kids to the dentist
for check-ups, they insisted I go with them to lunch first. Letting
go of that perfect class at the end of the semester was really difficult
for me, a little like putting a beloved protagonist out into the world.
A couple of weeks after the release date, my husband and I threw a big
party to celebrate. We had such a great time, and three of my very best
girlfriends flew in for the occasion (in addition to all our local friends),
so I felt sufficiently celebrated. It was a grown-up party, too, with
a tent and a caterer and real invitations, etc. We haven’t had
a party of this nature since our wedding nearly ten years ago. Truthfully,
it will probably be another ten years before we do it again, but it
was a night to remember!
Lately, I’ve been slaving over my new book and enjoying practically
every minute of it! I’m loving the main character and her journey,
and I can’t wait to get started on the editorial process again.
The next several months will likely bring a great deal of work, but
it’s work I love, so not a problem.
As for summer, we are spending most of our non-working time outdoors—swimming,
running, bouncing on the trampoline. We celebrated the Fourth of July
with a flag cake (my girls and I make it every year) and fireworks.
We are going to do some sailing on the Chesapeake Bay later this month,
and in August, there’s our family beach trip, of course. To me,
though, the best part of summer is the garden. My hydrangeas are prettier
than ever, as are my coneflowers. The Black-eyed Susans will be out
soon, too. My husband and middle daughter even planted an artichoke
in our vegetable garden!
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Happy summer and keep reading!
P.S. I’ve had great fun guest blogging and being interviewed and
reviewed by some of these wonderful book-loving Internet folks this
summer. Check out their hit sites!
www.yanewyork.com
www.teensreadtoo.com/ArtichokesHeart.html
slayground.livejournal.com
southernauthors.blogspot.com/2008/06/guest-blogger.html
enduringromance.blogspot.com/2008/05/artichokes-heart.html
May 8, 2008
Borders has selected Artichoke’s Heart as a June selection
of their Original Voices "Young Readers literature" promotion.
This program is designed to highlight "not only emerging voices
of today, but also those writers who have earned their place through
years of outstanding writing and continue to affect the literacy landscape
with their work." Titles selected as an OV receive front of store
placement and receive a 20% discount through the promotional period.
There are usually 12-15 titles selected each year.
Achtung Baby! The German translation rights for Artichoke’s Heart
were recently sold to Egmont Franz Schneider and Verlag Publishers.
April 1, 2008
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Recently, I had my very first book signing at Greetings and Readings in
Hunt Valley, Maryland. It was terrific—lots of friends came, and
my wonderful family, too, of course. It’s been quite a journey,
so having the people I love the most there to support me really made things
special. I must admit I’m not very coordinated, however. Chatting
and signing books is a little like patting your head and rubbing your
stomach. I misspelled at least one name!
I’ve also started teaching a course in fiction, and I absolutely
love it. My students are serious writers, very committed for the most
part, so the future of fiction looks bright if their talents are any indication!
I’ll be attending their book signings before long.
It seems like June 12th will never get here—a bit like that ninth
month of pregnancy when you decide your rotund state is permanent and
the baby will NEVER arrive. There are plenty of things to distract me
from the waiting, however, the next book for starters, my kids, husband,
job, spring, etc. Hopefully, my patience will hold out a while longer.
My heartfelt thanks again to all my friends who stopped by the author’s
table and to the wonderful Greetings and Readings staff!
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January 13, 2008
This past weekend I had the pleasure of meeting my editor, Julie Strauss-Gabel,
for the very first time. Keep in mind we've been working together
on Artichoke's Heart for nearly two years, yet we had never seen each
other! I drove up to Philadelphia for the ALA Mid-winter Conference,
and I was practically bursting with enthusiasm, not to mention curiosity,
by the time I got there. January 12th was my birthday, too, and
I couldn't think of a better way to spend it—in a convention center
with thousands of librarians and LOTS of editors. Okay, so we're
not talking a beach in the South Pacific, but, hey, I'm a writer, and
for those of us just starting to publish, a convention center with librarians
and editors is utopia.
Anyway, I did meet Julie—finally! For starters, she's smart
and friendly and down-to-earth, and she also has THE most gorgeous hair
I've ever laid eyes on (always a plus)—dark, rich curls tucked
back in a ponytail and still smelling of shampoo. Right away I liked
her. She showed me around the booths, introduced me to lots of
really nice Penguin folks, among others, then took me to lunch across
the street. We feasted on Diet Cokes and tuna Caesar salads, then
headed back to the convention center again. After Julie and I
said our goodbyes (she had meetings and a presentation and two conference
days still ahead), I got to chat with my "guardian agent"
for a while, yet another smart woman whom I respect and admire. All
in all, it was the perfect way for this writer to spend her birthday.
That evening I drove home thinking what a long journey it has been to
publication and how very, very, VERY glad I am that I never gave up
on my big dream of becoming a published author.
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