I sorta wanted to be Ann Voskamp

I admit it. Thirty pages into One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp, I almost thought about becoming a farm wife who home-schools her children. (I didn't tell my hubby he'd have to walk away from the hospital and buy a farm.) And I thought about picking up my camera more often - cuz it sits in the closet so much. I even considered hand washing the dishes to meditate on soap suds.

Mostly, I wanted to be the person who could write some of the most beautiful words I've ever read. Her words pierce. They play across the page and sing to your soul until all of a sudden you are face to face with a moment and you must talk to God about it. And sometimes you know He's not gonna like what you're thinking.

Whew. I still have thirty pages to go. And I'm reading it slow. Soaking it up. Pondering, like Mary. And I hope this book will stick. I'm pretty sure it already has. Not because I'm just like Ann now. But because I'm realizing (and this realization started years ago) that what I'm called to do is different from every other person's calling. I'm not called to be Ann Voskamp. I'm called to be Jennifer Fromke. And the part I find difficult to believe is the idea that no one else can be me except me.

And what I pulled from the book is this: it's not about what I'm gonna get. It's all about what I have to give.  And what I have to offer, I only have because it's been given to me first. Like I'm standing in a rushing mountain stream and water is gushing all around me, I'm soaked and happy, and when I turn downstream, I splash water into the air, the sun catches tiny droplets in a golden moment and I push the water further down, because there are others standing in the water.

It's the water that's so beautiful. It's the rush of refreshing movement that cleanses, cools, invigorates. And splashing is just joy. And if I don't even step out into the water, I'm stuck on land with feet in the mud.

If you haven't read One Thousand Gifts, do. Even if it doesn't change your perspective, the words are beautiful unto themselves. But I think it will change something inside you. Truth does that.

Can you give e-book gifts?

I must admit, I've stopped giving books to people in my life who now own e-readers. I used to spend lots of love and energy choosing perfect reads for specific people. One time I bought a gift card for my dad and told him which books I wanted him to buy, but somehow, that didn't feel quite right.

So I was thrilled to find out Amazon has addressed this frustration. There is now a way to give a specific digital book! If you go to the kindle book store, under the "buy" button, there is an option to "give as a gift." You can have the book emailed to the recipient and they can download it either to their computer or whatever device they use to read. The best part is you can choose the date your gift is delivered!

I feel so free! Even though I've already purchased gifts for everyone on my list (almost) I think I'm going to try this just for fun. So somebody gets a bonus gift this year!

And if you'd like to give it a try, here's a great idea: buy my Christmas story for $.99! It's a great little stocking stuffer - and you can stuff an email box with it too. Search for Jennifer Fromke on Amazon and check out Special Delivery.

If you get a chance to try this, come back to the blog and let me know what you think. Did the whole process work seamlessly? And what did you think about the story?

The Gift of a Book

Do you give them? Do you put them on your list?

I attended a birthday celebration a few months ago and as my friend opened her gifts we began to notice a trend. The first gift was a handmade necklace - given by a girl who makes jewelry, a real jewelry hound. The second gift was something like a calendar or organizer - given by a girl who is well known for her type-A highly organized nature. (this makes me jealous, by the way) The next gift was from me, a book. And everyone said, well of course! Jenn gives her a book.

We give what we like to get, don't we? To me, there is nothing sweeter than a book given with special thought for my tastes. Someone who knows me well can pick a story I will love, and it means so much that they would put thought into choosing one especially for me.

A book is not just a thing to set on your coffee table. (especially those e-books!) It's an adventure, an escape, a process, a ride, a friendship (or two), a heartbreak, a victory, true love. It's a mirror for life which can sometimes reveal truth about yourself that you wouldn't recognize outside of fiction.

However, I know there are people in this world who will pick up a wrapped book and think to themselves, "Great. It's a book." And this reaction before they even know which book! So lately I've tried to put myself in the place of the person for whom I am buying a gift. If I know you read, I'll probably still give you a book. Because I love giving them.

Are you giving books this Christmas? If so, which ones? If you love giving books, check out this great opportunity:

 

http://www.writeintegrity.blogspot.com/p/99-hour-99-cent-e-book-sale-win-e-books.html

Can Weather be a Character?

I've heard of the setting becoming a character, or even the time period in a novel, but can you think of any books where the weather almost seemed like a person in the room? I have a few to get the discussion started.

Winter Garden by Kristin Hannah. Part of this story takes place during the siege of Leningrad. Though I read it over a year ago, I can still feel the extreme elements, the desperation fed by freezing temperatures, unending snow, beautiful, but imprisoning. The near-empty apartments filled with people who burned almost every item they ever owned, just to keep warm for one more night. Winter became an indomitable enemy.

What about Death in Venice by Thomas Mann? I read it ages ago, but my most distinct memory is the hot, sultry beach scenes. The intensity of the heat and with it, the sickness . . . palpable.

Of course, The Perfect Storm comes to mind as well. I suppose that is self-explanatory.

Leave a comment about a "weather-character" you've read.

Do you YA?

YA = Young Adult and particularly references Young Adult Fiction.

Do you read it?

I do, and I love it. Well, I love some of it. I shy away from those titles whose covers boast a pasty white face with blood leaking from the corner of the mouth. Don't get me started.

So right now, I'm reading Michael Vey: The Prisoner of Cell 25, by Richard Paul Evans. He writes the pretty little gift-type books you buy at Christmas time. The Christmas Box, The Letter, etc . . . and those books are nice. They look great on the bedside table of your guest room. But let me tell you, Michael Vey is a world away from those other very successful, very nice books.

This book is aimed at kids. It boasts international intrigue, secret powers, teenage angst, and (I'm only 2/3 through the book) possible romance, but definite teeny-bopper crushing. And it reads fast. Can't wait to see what happens next, where did he come up with that, can I stay up just a half hour later to finish this next chapter, fast.

In case you don't know me, I'm an adult. And I love this story. I love it for all the reasons a kid might like it - suspense, great characters, interesting story, fascinating story world. But I also love it because of the questions it raises. Right versus wrong. Can what you know to be right ever become wrong? But these questions are posed in such a way that we get to witness kids making moral decisions and applying their character to outrageous situations.

I can't wait to talk about this story with my kids. Of course, I need to finish the book so they can get their hands on it first. I've read some other great YA lately. Of course, who hasn't read the Hunger Games series by Suzanne Collins? LOVED IT! The discussions between my kids and me felt like my book club discussions with adults around the table.

And then I thought, huh. Talking books with people is one of my favorite things to do. And if I read YA, then I can have that experience with my kids too. Obviously, I'm not a rocket scientist. But I finally figured this out. So I'm reading more YA these days. And my teenagers and I are having some great discussions that I'm hoping will continue on indefinitely as they become adults.

Oh, and by the way, don't tell my kids, but I get to actually teach them stuff as we talk. I don't think they've noticed yet. I'm keeping it on the down low.

What YA novels have you read recently? Have you had some great chats with kids about them? Any wonderful gems you can pass on to the rest of us?

Crossing Over . . .

I remember climbing into an attic space through a small door in the middle of the wall of my dad's home office. I hauled blankets and pillows and books in with me and I camped out there for the day. After awhile, I'd just leave all my stuff there and retreat to the tiny attic whenever I could. A naked light bulb with a string hanging from it lit the space and the books I dove into lit my imagination. 

I read. I re-read. I wore out the steps leading up to the children's room at the Sage Library in Bay City, Michigan. I carried home stacks of books all summer long, and even after summer was over. I didn't know it then, but that's how I became addicted to story. I immersed myself in other worlds, made friends with imaginary people, and solved the world's problems all without leaving my little attic space. Well okay, I did take my books to the pool, the swing set, my bedroom, the car, pretty much everywhere I went. 

Once in awhile I'd finish a book and sit with it in my lap, back cover closed, and sigh. Reliving the moments with the characters, still fresh in my mind. And sometimes my mind would wander to a question something like this: If I wrote a book, what kind of characters would I write about? Where would I want the setting to be? What would my author photo look like? (gimmee a break, I was probably 12!)

And now I know. It's a bit surreal, but I've signed a contract to publish my first novel. The dream is on its way to reality and I remember those moments in the attic so long ago and though I'm excited to bursting, a little bit scared, and worried about the marketing side, what I mostly feel is . . . grateful.

Crossing over to the other side reminds me of that scene in Indiana Jones where he has to step out into thin air before he can see the path his foot will fall upon. Every scene is written in faith that it will fall into the right hands and be read by the right people at the right time.

That God would give me a dream so long ago and bring me to this moment is humbling. I'm happily grateful and joyfully pecking away at the keyboard.

Closed a book early yesterday.

Yup! I've talked about it before, but I had to do it again. I didn't care about the characters. Kinda wanted to know what happened, but the remaining 250 pages were not worth my time.

This go round, I think the problem was the point of view (POV). The main characters were all men and the few women appeared to be very stereotyped. The wimpy mom. The obnoxiously dressed career secretary who files her nails and stares out the window. The hot babe sunning herself on the back porch. Gag me with a spoon. Yes, I just wrote that. If the main character is always tramping through the woods carrying a gun, peeing behind trees and ogling a girl from afar, I cannot relate to these non-universal experiences. I'm pretty sure this is the reason men don't read chick-lit. Too much girl stuff. So this book is what they must refer to as "lad-lit." I've heard of the phenomena but never read any. Now I know why. But for all the guys out there, I'm glad the book exists. It actually won a fairly prestigious award for the excellent writing. I'm guessing the judges were men.

As I'm working on my next novel, this makes me look at my male characters more carefully. Are they cardboard cutouts? Are they placeholders/props? I want all my characters to be real; three-dimensional. How do I avoid the cliche? I'm working on finding some kind of universal experience in each character that every reader will relate to. Something to think on.

What makes you quit reading a book? (Please don't name names).

Do You Believe in Magic?

I'm not talking Harry Potter magic, either. I mean, when you read a story - seemingly normal, and then the author throws in a little bit of magic, do you believe it?

It's easy to believe magical things will happen in a magical place. For instance, we easily believe a ring found under a mountain can prolong the life of a hobbit in Middle Earth and also destroy the entire world. But what if a woman finds a ring under her bed in Muncie, IN? Would we believe it could destroy the known world?

I love to believe in supernatural stories. It's like a ride the author takes me on, painting the backdrop for amazing, irregular things to happen. But have you ever read a story where it just didn't work?

What if the setting is contemporary, the people are all normal, but "out of this world" stuff begins to happen and the author provides no reason at all? What is your threshold for believability?

I happen to believe that if the author makes me believe it, he's done a great job. It's when the "seams" of a story become noticeable that I stop believing. An author who decides to dump a magical or mystical element into the story to make it work is using magic as a crutch and nine times out of ten, it will not work. But when an author writes a story so believably that it doesn't matter how realistic things are, beautiful things happen.

One such story is The Sugar Queen by Sarah Addison Allen. She tells an intriguing story about interesting people I care about. I believe the story. But then she weaves in this subtle, magical thread and while I know it's not possible, I love it. I eagerly follow this part of the story and it brings me joy because I wish it were possible in my own life.

It's a quirky novel (I just love them!) and I'm not sure it's overly well-known, but it's worth the read. A light-hearted and serious story, not too deep, but providing quality characters I'm still thinking of two weeks after I read the last page.

Check out The Sugar Queen and tell me, did you believe the magic?

Dabbling in Non-fiction

I’m driving down the road on my way to the orthodontist with my fourteen-year-old. The book is lying between us and she picks it up. Mind you, I’ve started reading it, but am only 1-2 chapters in. She starts reading from the beginning. I steal it back while she has her braces adjusted, and then she reads it on the way home. And after we get home. And through the entire afternoon and late into the night when I make her close it so she can wake up for driver’s ed the next day. She finished it by lunchtime. And then I got my chance.

I’m addicted to fiction. When there are ten fabulous novels waiting for me to read them, it’s difficult to stray into the realm of non-fiction. But this post documents a departure from my norm.

Heaven Is For Real by Todd Burpo. Before I read the book, I already believed it. I’ve studied many Biblical references to heaven and I can’t actually remember a time I wasn’t certain I’m going there after I die (or possibly before, but that’s a whole other blog post). This book gave me chills. Made it even more real.

The story is engaging. Fascinating. And it makes you think about everything you ever knew about Heaven. It’s not that it changed my view, but it confirmed several things I thought would probably be true, but didn’t have scripture to back me up.  It also confirmed several things that are in scripture. What’s cool about that, is this  four-year-old boy would not have heard what’s in scripture on those topics. And he couldn’t even read at that time in his life. He told his story to his parents piecemeal, and things he said were exactly what scripture describes.

So I didn’t need proof of Heaven. But it’s way cool to receive confirmation. It’s like making up my own recipe for something and my family loves it. Then, I read in a magazine a similar recipe created by a professional chef. I knew it was good, but when I see it printed in a magazine, I know other people know it’s good.

I highly recommend Heaven Is For Real. There are delightful surprises within. Plus, you get to know a wonderful family and a little boy with a remarkable experience. Don’t avoid it because it’s popular. This one’s popular for a reason. It strikes a chord, and that’s a good thing.

Have you read it? Do you avoid non-fiction? What will induce you to pick up a non-fiction book?

Do you know what a pimpernel is?

It’s a wild flower, in the primrose family. I’m sad to admit I only just learned it this summer. Of course, you must know, I can now say I’ve read the Scarlet Pimpernel.

Were you forced to read it for school? Have you seen the stage play? Have you (like me, before this summer) heard about it your whole life and always wondered what in the world a pimpernel is but didn’t wonder enough to pick up the book and read it?

It’s short. It’s swashbuckling. And it’s good! If you’ve been thinking you should read some classics to feed your brain, but when it comes to actually picking one up, you yearn for something more modern, I beseech you (the language kinda gets stuck in your head J) read this one!

The story takes place during the French Revolution when the lower classes ousted the aristocracy via Madame Guillotine, watching the proceedings like sport. The author was herself, a baroness from Hungry who was forced to flee her country, losing all the family lands.

The politics from the French Revolution written from an author sympathetic to the aristocracy in France is a fascinating read in light of our current political climate. I will not opine here, but suffice it to say, there was much food for thought.

More than that, the story clips along at a good pace, the hero and heroine are wonderfully opposed to each other at the beginning and though it is a romance, the intrigue, mystery, and general adventure held my interest all the way through.

Baroness Orczy may not have been a professional writer when she wrote it, but she knew the life of an ex-pat in England and she knew how to swashbuckle. (Sorry, I just had to use that word twice – it’s so much fun to say!) Give it a whirl. You’ll find out why the pimpernel matters. And you’ll sound really smart at dinner parties when this book is mentioned and you know all about it. (FYI: you might have to be the one that brings it up. But you’ll still sound smart. J)

Have you read any great classics this summer? Do you have any classics on your "to be read" list?

Lorna Landvik writes a great cupcake!

Reading Lorna Landvik is a true delight! I read Oh My Stars! at the beach a couple weeks ago and rediscovered my love for this author of wonderfully quirky characters and stories.  

The heroine in Oh My Stars is Violet. She is so unique, so complex, she’s like a cool breeze that finds you on a sultry, cooker of a day. The characters are not mere eccentrics pasted into a story, begging to be noticed. No, the characters are slowly built, carefully crafted, revealed in the reader's peripheral vision.

I laughed out loud and I also hid some tears behind my sunglasses over the course of this wonderful story. I have to come back to that first word I used to describe it: Delight. It’s not so much an easy, light read, but the emotional surprises are what evoke that delight. Lorna Landvik has a way of writing about meaty topics in a way that is both humorous and lighthearted, but at the same time serious and pointed.

There is a cupcake shop near my home who makes very tasty treats. Last time I was in the shop I saw a sign on the wall: Icing Shots, $1. I can only imagine how good that would taste on the way down, but how spiky the sugar-headache would feel afterward. No, I prefer my icing atop a delicious piece of cake. It’s richer. The flavor is much more balanced and just . . . right.

Lorna Landvik writes like a good cupcake. It’s not mere fluff. Not like an icing shot. The story is deep and rich and balanced. 

When was the last time you closed a book and said to yourself, “Well, that was delightful!”? Read Oh My Stars! and I think you just might.

By the way, also try Angry Housewives Eating Bon Bons by Lorna Landvik. And especially you Minnesotans up there, try Patty Jane’s House of Curl.

The Saga, Part II

So, we’re talking sagas again. The long story of heroic achievement. What if Luke Skywalker found some droids, learned to use the force, and then beat Darth Vader with his light saber?  Short, sweet, to the point, and good beats evil, end of story. Why does that story fall flat with us?

I think it’s the struggle. Conflict is one thing, but a long term struggle is another. Most sagas depict a war between good and evil, right and wrong, love and love lost, etc . . . What makes a saga resonate is the series of battles, one after another. Just when we think the hero will triumph, something else stands in his way. In fact, it seems the entire world is standing in his way.

Think about someone you know who has faced a difficulty and then gone on to inspire you. If you told me about that person’s journey, I might be interested and tell you it’s a good story. But if I knew that person well, watched him grow up, knew how his personality traits affect his reactions to various situations, it would be a different story. The tragedies and triumphs become much more graphic and magnified for me, knowing what this man is like and how these events would have affected him emotionally, socially, professionally, as well as physically.

I think that’s the benefit of the saga. It takes you deeper. Sometimes way deeper. My dad used to love reading James Michener. I remember one particular book called The Source (and I’m speaking from second-hand knowledge only here, I haven't read it). My dad told me the book went all the way back to the beginning of the people of Israel, and traced them through hundreds of generations to the modern day. Now, that might be an extreme case of “backstory,” but then again, everyone I’ve spoken to who read the book has loved it.

As a writer, the challenge is to write a story with enough detail to make it rich, but not so much the story gets dragged into the depths of dull. 

Do you prefer the deep, richly detailed tale, or a "Just the facts, ma'am" approach? Why? What's your favorite example?

The lovely, long story.

Star Wars. Lord of the Rings. Little House on the Praire. They all have something in common. Something I love and can’t get enough of. They are all part of a SAGA. Does the word strike fear in your heart or send you running to the bookstore for the latest and greatest? 

The dictionary defines "saga" as a long story of heroic achievement. I’d like to take a look at each of the above sagas (and maybe a few more sprinkled in) and talk about why we love (or hate) them. This type of story really does tend to elicit a strong emotion one way or another. And yes, I realize Star Wars began as a movie, but we’re talking about a story experience, not merely in book form only.

I have a friend who rarely reads fiction and when she does, it’s usually something light and short. She just doesn’t enjoy delving deep into the lives of characters for an extended period of time. And a saga will require some time. It goes with the territory. If the characters are likeable, I want to spend as much time as I can with them, but the author has to keep things moving along. No two-page descriptions of a single flower, please!

Usually, when written in book form, a saga will be published in multiple volumes. While I like to stay up with current literary releases, if it’s a continuing saga, I prefer to wait until the end has been published before I invest myself. I don’t want to forget any details from the early books when I read the later volumes.

A few years ago, I read a children’s series by Rick Riordan: Percy Jackson and the Olympians. I made the mistake of beginning the series when only four of the books had been released. My kids and I burned through every available word published and then were forced to wait almost six months for the conclusion. Adding insult to injury, my children wrested the book from my hands the instant we purchased it and I was forced to wait for THREE of them to read it before me. Well, let’s be honest, I actually forbade the third kid to take the book to school with him so I could at least have it during the day. Pathetic, I know.

What sagas have you read and loved? Hated? Are there any sagas in your “to be read pile?” We’ll talk about specific sagas next time.

The Winter Sea by Susanna Kearsley

Just finished reading this delightful novel and as I turned to the “virtual” back cover, I released a pleasant sigh. This is why I read.

So I want to use this book to look at what comes together to produce that satisfied sigh at the end of a book. Several things, I think.

1.     1. We read to feel. To cry with the widow, to sneak around the corner, hiding from the leering, evil gardener, to rejoice in the beauty of young love, and to yearn for someone across an ocean. These emotions swept me up in this novel.

2.     2. We read to escape to another world. To leave the world of rainy, humid spring and travel to exotic locations where snow and ice and a biting wind off the North Sea batter the walls of the castle—this is a great way to gain a new appreciation for the world I actually inhabit.

3.     3. We read to learn. The Winter Sea is about an author who is writing an historical novel. We see how she researches, but we also travel back in time and learn about the Brittish-Scottish Union and the failed attempt of King James to return to Scotland and claim his throne. Real historical figures play major roles in the fiction—it’s fascinating!

4.     4. Lastly, I think we read to get to the last page so we can savor all the moments the author led us through in order to reach a vantage point where we could look back and say, that was exactly right. So much in this world is a mess. Reading an ordered story that ties up loose ends while leaving a few of the right ones hanging, gives us hope that in real life, there’s a chance at bringing things right.

My favorite image is the character with eyes like The Winter Sea. Eyes like that are beautiful to imagine, and since almost the whole story takes place in view of the winter sea, it’s especially poignant.

As a writer, I loved that the protagonist is a writer. I wish I had an agent like hers in the story. I wish I could just go rent a cottage near the setting of my story and write there, alone, until it’s finished. Well, I don’t really want to do that, but the idea is highly romantic, though completely unrealistic for me. But it’s fun to “live” that dream, even if I don’t truly want the reality (ie, months away from my family).

For an escape, read The Winter Sea. It’s beautiful, punctuated with some lovely surprises, and will sweep you to another world . . . plus, there’s a castle. And I'm fairly certain you'll close the book and without even thinking about it, you'll sigh because you're satisfied.

What is it about England?

Is it just me, or is a novel set in 19^th century England like the pied piper? I can’t stay away. I love, love, love stories set in this time and place. Of course I’m a Jane Austen fan, but how many countless other stories start with a giant stone manor house, a garden to get lost in, and a thunderstorm to end all storms?

Why do we love them? Is it the “other-worldliness”? Is it a longing for a simpler, yet more opulent time? I don’t even like tea, but I find myself longing for a cup served in one-hundred-year-old bone china, while wearing a gown I’ve just put on for the express purpose of taking my tea…in the drawing room, of course.

And why is it a game of cat and mouse played in a dark, two-hundred-year-old garden is more enthralling than the same chase scene in a US mall?

Honestly, I think is because I’ve lived (vicariously) so many wonderful stories in that time and place, it seems to me the best parts of the old stories are carried (by me) into the new stories and though they strip me of all objectivity, they sink me even deeper into the storyworld than a single author could take me.

If I walk into a Calculus class for the first time with no previous math instruction, the teacher may be able to explain limits to me after several weeks of blood, sweat, and tears. But if I walk into the same class having already learned the terms and basic background necessary, I can hit the ground running and begin to understand new concepts immediately.

So it is with literature. Having read several novels taking place in the 19^th century, in a stone country house on the moors of England, I already know what life was like. I have a general feel for what the moors look like, and I know how the people lived, both the servants and land owners. So when I take up a new novel, the fresh details ring wonderfully true when they dovetail with details from other books, painting an even richer portrait.

I can’t help it. Victorian and Romantic English Literature inspires me. The stories suck me in and I cannot stop reading them. Lure me in with a castle and a mysterious key and I’ll be rapt until the last chapter. Do you feel the same? Is there another genre you cannot stop reading?

The Novel With a Slow Build

The story with a slow build. I talked about it last time, and I promised more. The title is Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese, and the story is extraordinary.

Like anything involving delayed gratification, sometimes worthwhile journeys require slogging through a bit of mud to get there. I’m here to tell you this: Don’t skip the mud!

Walking in knee deep mud is difficult. It requires concentration because, if you stumble in knee deep mud and then fall in said knee deep mud, it quickly becomes neck deep mud and nobody wants to go there.

The mud focuses our mind. It stretches our muscles. It makes us dig deep to find the energy we need to keep slogging. Are you feeling the grit between your teeth yet? OK, let’s bring it back to reality.

Reading this novel was not the difficult experience I’m describing. The first 150 pages are filled with NECESSARY details. They are presented in an interesting manner, and I was transported to an incredible world as I read. But when I reached the mid-point in the novel, all these details began to dovetail. As minor characters grew in importance, I recalled bits of information I didn’t feel were important at the time, but they became paramount as the novel progressed.

One of the greatest satisfactions in reading comes when an author makes every word count and presents his story in a way that the reader can taste each word at the end and know that the flavors all work together to make something more special than any of the individual ingredients alone. If one item is omitted, the outcome will not be the same.

Cutting for Stone is delicate, delicious, serious, fascinating, and riveting. Every word contributes to a gorgeous and complex whole. It’s worth your time.

Fair warning, a few adult scenes and occasional language.

Taking the scenic route to the end?

Last week I sat by the pool and read a book. It’s my favorite vacation. Doesn’t really matter where the pool is. I don’t usually pay it much attention. But last week I found myself looking up from the book and gazing into the heavily chlorinated water. A lot.

The back cover copy and reviews from my friends who recommended the book convinced me this book was wonderful. I glanced at the upper right corner of the page: 135. Seriously.

The story was interesting. The characters, fascinating. The setting, exotic. I knew it would take me to an unbelievable place and I wanted to go there. However, this particular author chose to take me there via the scenic route. To be fair, I will write about this book more next week because I stuck with it to the end and I am still savoring it.

Recently, we drove a long and winding way to the top of a mountain and the beauty blew me away. We drove down the mountain the fast way and let me tell you, the scenic route is the way to go, every time. 

So when you pick up a book that takes you down the scenic route, how long are you willing to give it?

Do you throw the book against the wall after 50 pages? Worse, do you abandon it completely? For many years, I read with an unusual faith that if I held in my hands an official book, published and bound, it must get good by the end. And I finished every book I ever started in the first 25 years of my life because of that faith. Most of the time, the books ended well.

These days, I hate to leave a book unfinished, but if I am not enjoying it I will. There is a distinct difference between a story that is building and a story that is wandering in the wilderness. There is nothing so satisfying as a book that builds slowly and ends like a perfect dessert after an amazing meal.

All this to say, while there is a time to put down a book if you just can’t get into it, always be on the look out for those wonderful stories with a slow ramp-up that build slowly into an amazing, breathtaking, soul-jarring, life-changing experience.

Look for scenic routes . . . you won’t regret it.

Where's the beef?

“I ordered the beef.”

“I’m sorry ma’am, all we have left is the fish.”

Have you ever sat down at a wedding or some other type of banquet and run into this exact scenario? How did it make you feel? Disappointed? Frustrated? Angry?

I experienced the same sort of thing when I purchased a book by an author I’ve grown to love, only to learn the book is a far cry from her others. Unexpected. Not what I’d hoped.

Now that I’m starting to meet authors of all kinds, I’m reminded of my days as a waitress. Before I waited tables, I could be very hard on someone who failed to perform as I thought she should. After “walking a mile” so to speak, I began to understand that a waitress is one member of the restaurant staff, and sometimes things happen beyond her control. As a result, I’m more forgiving these days.

Can we apply this to authors? Maybe. Don’t like the ending? Maybe she had two weeks to write it because of a death in the family and an unforgiving deadline. Don’t like the title? She may not have chosen it. Is the book a complete departure from her other books? Maybe she wanted to experiment before she carved out a rut so deep she could never veer off course for the rest of her career.

Look at poor Arthur Conan Doyle. He tried killing off Sherlock Holmes several times, but his fans forced him to resurrect the character. He wanted to pursue historical novels, but the public wanted him to stay in his "box."

I don’t advocate reading a book you don’t enjoy. Life is too short. But I’m starting to see that life throws us all crazy circumstances and reading a book that is different from what you expected can sometimes give us the gift of something fresh.

I’m just saying you might like the fish, but you’ll never know if you keep complaining about the beef you thought you wanted.

The Frasier

I’m taking a break from my normal “book-club” blog posts to talk about a wonderful fiction contest called the Frasier. You can find details here: http://www.mybooktherapy.com/index2.php/the-frasier-contest/

I entered last year for the critiques. I wanted to test the waters—is my stuff any good?

While preparing my entry, I was shocked to learn they expected me to write a synopsis of my beloved novel in less than 500 words. Dismay, surprise, and a little depression rocked my personal “book-esteem” at the idea they didn’t want to read an exhaustive treatise on the creative work of my dreams. I mean, the entire novel was written on my heart, how could I possibly leave anything out?

Needless to say, I did. The guidelines for the contest forced me to “write-tight.” This pre-requisite proved invaluable. It taught me to filter my own words and boil them down to only the essential. Accepting that not everyone in the world wants to read my words ad nauseam before I get to the point humbled me.

The word count for the opening scene (1500 words) also proved a challenge, but I found myself evaluating every word. My previous philosophy may have been something like this: if you throw enough words at any given scenario, eventually you’ll come to a decent point. After crafting my Frasier entry, I can see that fewer words pack greater potency.

All this is to say, if you write fiction, enter the Frasier! The pithy comments from the judges are worth the entry fee. And while the guidelines force you to trim words, I hope you’ll learn what I did: tight writing is golden.

I’m off to start my second novel this week.

P.S. In case you didn’t notice, this post is less than 300 words. J

Are you a Cry-er?

Do you tend to cry in movies or when you read a great book? I have to admit, I’m not much of a cry-er. Sometimes I’m really in the mood for it, I choose a tear-jerker to watch or read, and my eyes stay dry the whole way through.

Do you judge a story by whether it made you cry or not? I actually cheer when a friend reads something I've written and tells me they cried. Success! I must tell you about the book I stumbled upon earlier this month. Firefly Lane by Kristin Hannah blew me away.

I can’t say the beginning overwhelmed me, but it was very good. I can’t say that half-way through the story it became my favorite book, though I enjoyed it very much. But when I reached the final one hundred pages, the culmination of the whole story packed such an enormous wallop, I was shocked by the sheer enormity of emotion I felt for her characters. I cried constantly for the last 50 pages. I don’t know if I’ve ever done that before. Luckily, I was reading it at the beach, wearing huge sunglasses.

The story is beautiful. And she built it so gradually, I didn’t even notice how enormous the implications of every detail had become. So of course, as an author, I analyzed her plot. I followed some advice from my favorite book on writing craft and picked apart the entire novel. And when I came to the last 50 pages, yup! I cried again. Sheesh!

So now I want to write something like that. Something that will take my readers on a journey they will feel themselves, instead of just watching from the sidelines. Read Firefly Lane if you want to feel a story deeply, or if you find yourself in need of a good cry.

Fair warning: adult language and themes throughout.

What was the last book you read that made you cry?

What do you want?

What do you want from a book? I'm talking about those books that you cannot put down and you will not forget when you've finished them.

Do you just want to escape to another place? Or are there certain things you expect from a novel?

When I close a great book after reading the last page, I always take my time and I usually sit there, holding the book, remembering. It’s almost like waving goodbye to friends and watching the car drive away until I cannot see it anymore.

One book stands out to me in this regard. Taking Liberties by Diana Norman really stuck with me. I actually missed the main characters after I put the book down. I want a book that leaves me wanting more, like when I eat a cookie that was delicious but too small.

Another must-have take away for me is something that grabs my mind. If I find either a surprise, or an interesting philosophical question or an idea that’s new to me, I will remember the book forever.

Lastly, it must be gripping. I must need to keep reading.

What elements do you look for in a great read?

It's a Sibling Thing

I’ve been sucked in by my current read, Kate Morton’s The Distant Hours. I am fascinated by the familial relationships she tackles. The protagonist spends most of the book uncovering the intricacies of a particular family: A father, twin daughters and their younger sister—focusing mostly on the sisters. She describes their relationship like this: “The intricate tangle of love and duty and resentment that tied them together.”

Of course, this dragged my thoughts toward my own siblings. Love, yes, plenty. Duty, yes. Don’t mess with my family. Resentment gave me pause. I don’t actually resent my siblings—I tend more toward the love and duty, I think. But it does bring a few of our off-handed comments to mind. “She got to travel all the time with Mom and Dad. He never got caught—ever! She got caught every time she tried anything (giggle-giggle).” Which leads to other commentary . . . “The baby of the family has it made! The middle kid always gets the shaft. The oldest thinks she’s all that. Spare me!”

I’m writing about two girlfriends right now. Their bond is tight. But the sibling bond is somehow more fraught with the possibility for raw emotion. Losing a friend or hurting a friend is painful. But usually there is so much more invested in that sibling relationship. The hurt cuts deeper, misunderstanding can last longer and grate harder. 

Morton writes the experience of an outsider observing the sisters. “The glances they exchanged; the complicated balance of power established over decades; the games I would never play with rules I would never fully understand."

There’s something about a brother-sister/sister-sister/brother-brother connection that cuts straight to our core. I once heard someone say that siblings are like the only fellow countrymen in existence from their home planet. Truly, every household could be construed to be a separate planet.

Remember all your observations from that first sleepover in jr high? (They never eat ice cream! The mom plays the radio all day and all night! Their dad works on an old car in the garage 'til midnight every night!) Only those citizens who have lived it can empathize and fully understand. And only those citizens provide true comfort when homesickness sets in. Because at some point, we just can’t go home again and being with people who remember that home (good or bad) fills in the gaps better than anything else can.

Read The Distant Hours. For the siblings. For the castle. For the complete escape from your own castle. It made me think of my home and the wonderful gifts I have in my siblings.

What's your favorite castle?

There’s just something about a castle. It’s the quintessential setting. Throw a castle into almost any story and you have instant history, mystery and intrigue. They are full of shadows, forgotten corners and most definitely hidden secrets. I’ve heard it said that the setting of a book can become as much a character as the people in a novel, but I think it’s almost obligatory with a castle—and I’ll also include big houses for the purpose of this discussion.

For me, it started with Snow White, Cinderella, and Sleeping Beauty. The fairy tale castle anchored in my mind the splendor, the exclusivity and the absolute “draw” of a castle.

One of the most memorable “dwelling characters” for me, is the large estate house in Frances Hodgson Burnett’s The Secret Garden. Also, Miss Minchin’s School for girls—how many attic rooms were there? And the Indian Gentleman’s home next door—accessible by roof, within the pages of The Little Princess.

The White Witch’s ice castle in Narnia, filled with stone statues.

What about Hogwart’s? There’s a living, breathing building for you. And who could forget Thrushcross Grange and Wuthering Heights? Just this week, I’ve been wandering the halls within Milderhurst, found in the new novel, The Distant Hours by Kate Morton. This castle seems to almost breathe memories even as it crumbles. Truly wonderful and I haven’t finished the book yet!

What’s your favorite castle memory?

What does reading feel like?

Reading a great book is like sinking into a deep tub filled with hot water and covered with scented bubbles. The rest of the world falls away and you feel like you’re returning to your “other life.”

When I was young, I would look up from my book to see my mother, hands on hips, shouting my name. Inside, I felt like I’d been yanked from another world. I know I blinked at her, as if surprised to find myself lying on a couch in my living room instead of riding in a carriage in 19^th century New York City, or crossing the moors of England, or fighting a war in France.

Sometimes I feel a bit like Henry from The Time Traveler’s Wife. With very little warning, he would disappear and travel through time. If you have not read this book, you must. I don’t say this too often (or maybe I do?) but seriously, it knocked my socks off. I read it several years ago and a single thought can place me back inside that novel today, feeling the cold Chicago air, or the warm sun on my shoulders in the meadow behind the house in Grand Rapids.

The book is highly intellectual—read with thinking cap on—but also very relational. There’s a good bit of cussing and the poor guy ends up naked every time he travels, but the story is riveting. Unforgettable. Stunning.

It’s a new year, and with it—God willing—I’ll write another book. When I write, there is less time to read, but when I read, there is more fodder for writing. So I’m looking for the next novel to read even as I plot my own next story. Suggestions welcome, though "my stack" beckons.