Sheila Weller Talks about Girls Like Us, the MOVIE!

Didn't you just love Girls Like Us, the groundbreaking bio of Carole King, Joni Mitchell and Carly Simon? Exuberantly told, this book explored the lives of three of music's most important women in a way that was so irresistible that I was carrying around my copy until it was dog-eared. Sheila Weller is equally amazing. The writer of six books, two of them New York Times bestsellers, she also writes about social history for Vanity Fair and is a contributing editor at Glamour. Plus, frankly, she's one of the coolest and most interesting people I know. Thanks so much for being here on my blog, Sheila.

I absolutely adored Girls Like Us. The women in the book were such heroines to so many of us. I've read that the book is now going to be a film. Will Joni, Carole or Carly be a part of that at all?

Caroline, thank you so much!  I am so gratified by the nerve the book seems to have struck. As someone who has been a writer since --- well, forever (I've never done anything else!)..., this was the thing I did that I want on my tombstone. I often say, "I wrote a family memoir, but this book is even more autobiographical than the memoir." Because I used Carole's, Joni's and Carly's lives and songs to probe the common journey so many of us took -- the women of the '60s generation.

As to your question: The producers and the studio will certainly want to use their songs, so, yes, the three women (or at least their representatives) will be a part of the process. I hope everything goes happily and smoothly in that regard. It's certainly an opportunity for these amazing icons to be deeply known to younger generations. When you think about it (and I do think about this...), it's still (sigh) the guys who are "ageless" and the women who are..."older." Paul McCartney plays to rave audiences of kids in their 20s, and President Obama and his wife and the entire Kennedy Center sang along with him to  "Hey Jude" to bring the last Kennedy Center Honors to a raving close. Keith Richards had a critically and commercially acclaimed $7 million  # 1 bestseller memoir. (And Eric Clapton a few years before.) James Taylor (the "boy" among my girls) just got a prestigious medal of honor from the president, performed at the inauguration, just played Carnegie Hall to unbelievable reviews, and, in the documentary -- Troubadours -- in which he and Carole were featured, it was he who was  hagiographed. Then there's Bruce, Mick and Sting. Not to mention Dylan! Yet these three women are absolutely every bit as significant -- and beloved. And, in turning the big ship of the culture and in taking personal risks to create, they did, and risked, more than the guys! (How easy was it to be a rock n roll star-and-songwriter in the '60s and '70s and have loving, supportive girlfriends who made your life easy? VERY. How easy to be a -- well, just switch the gender and answer the question.) So I'm so very excited that the book will be a movie, and that the movie will bring their magic,  their guts, and their beautiful, culture-defining music  music to younger people who don't know them well, and who, apart from Mad Men, didn't know how young women had to stumble and then push through in some pretty emotionally and socially crimped circumstances.

I want people who weren't even born when they were creating Blue and Tapestry and "You're So Vain" (and we're talking 39 and 40 years ago)  to walk out of the theater singing their songs, and appreciating those songs' triumphs and costs.

Whom do you envision playing each--if you had your druthers?

Well, of course, next to goofing around on Facebook and checking my Amazon numbers, what is more obsessive fun than "casting" this movie?! I've had a lot of different casting ideas, but here is what I've settled on and I'm sticking to it. (Please understand: I have absolutely NO say in the casting. NONE. Nada, zip.) But, anyway:

As Carole: Michelle Williams. She has a gravity, a solemnity, which  was an ineffable part of Carole's resonance and appeal.  Like Carole (who was a wife to a difficult, haunted, talented guy, Gerry Goffin; a  mother, and a bill-paying  # 1 hit writer before she was out of her teens), sensible, older-than-her-years Michelle's love affair with the haunted and excess-prone Heath Ledger left her young with a child when he tragically died -- and wiser and more responsible than her years.  She wears that quality of premature adulthood; you can't miss it in her. She's a terrific actress, and doesn't play characters who suffer fools lightly (because she doesn't seem to in real life). When she is shocked by her own naivete and heartbroken (to wit, the scene in Brokeback Mountain when she understands that her husband is gay), she never seems shnookered or should-have-known-better. We are on her side with her broken heart. As it was with Carole, whose love choices were often the Achilles Heel of her otherwise prematurely mature decision making and competence, Williams has an easily-empathized-with dignity, in her life and her movie roles, that makes us take her side. She is never frivolous.

I just -- dearly! -- hope she can play a piano, and really play it. Because, more than voice, that's what Carole is and did and does. Piano -- gospel piano pounding -- is her first language.

As Joni: Taylor Swift. Taylor Swift is a huge star among young audiences, and, having just moved to Beverly Hills, she is obviously working hard to turn her music stardom into a film equivalent. Like Joni, she has written famously guessed-about songs about her boyfriends. She is tall, lean, feminine, projects charisma/exhibitionism AND shy, ladylike decorousness...that was Joni in the mid-late '60s and even early 70s. Joni is the easiest to cast, in that, as complicated as she was and is (and, man!, she was and is), on first interpretation, she fills the archetype of the lovely, sensitive, long-blond-haired girl singer (Maybe because she created that archetype), so "indication" of  that  now-well-understood type goes a long way; the idioysyncracies can  be filled in. There are more obvious Joni's than Caroles or Carlys among young actresses today. (Amanda Seyfried, Mia Wiakowska, Jennifer Lawrence, etc.) I'd like Taylor Swift -- a superstar and a lovely girl --  to embrace her Inner Joni (and what girl singer doesn;t have one?), take a ton of acting classes, and run with it, providing the highest-glow wattage for the ensemble, which will shine over the whole project.  And, for those who say: But Taylor Swift's a country singer..., well, she's actually from Pennsylvania.

As Carly: Evan Rachel Wood. Carly, in my mind, was always the hardest to cast. For Carly, one needs a long, lean, strong-featured actress who can sing really well (Carly has the classically best voice of the three) and who oozes sexuality, wit, and a certain wacky, highly privileged, genially neurotic, predatory  mischievousness. Three things qualify Evan Rachel Wood for this unique mix of prerequisites: (1) her singing in Across the Universe; (2) her years with Marilyn Manson (high points, Evan, for relishing the public's "ewww"-ing of that unexpected love affair). And (3) her a-fucking-mazing performance as Veda (the snooty, scheming, sex goddess daughter from hell) in Mildred Pierce. Case closed.

The book tied together these three lives so brilliantly, but I'm wondering if the film will be structured differently?

Thank you. I think they want to keep the alternating, layer-like quality of the book, where the stories are woven together. The producer-director, Katie Jacobs (the showrunner and often-director of TV's often Emmy nominated and hugely successful House) was give the book, shortly after it came out, by her sister, MIT History professor Meg Jacobs. So, from the first,  she saw it as social history, not just entertainment. So does Amy Pascal, the co-head of Sony-Columbia Pictures, who is overseeing its production at the studio. The third in the production team is Lorenzo Di Bonaventura. (Lorenzo is one of the most accomplished and successful producers in Hollywood. When you saw the red-carpet pictures of Angelina Jolie at the Salt premiere and there was this...unknown but self-possessed big guy...in the picture with her -- just the two of them: that was Lorenzo.)

But I'm most excited about the selection of John Sayles to do the adaptation.  Aside from being the original American auteur and the most respected, puts-his-money-where-his-mouth-is independent filmmakers in the country, he has such a deep, personally experienced sense of and respect for the '60s and '70s (among many other things, his Return of the Secaucus Seven was the template not only for The Big Chill...but, in a very real sense, for Carole's Tapestry circle of friends; and he did girls-at-[Carly's]-Sarah Lawrence in Baby It's You). And his work -- films and novels (by the way, he has a huge historical novel coming out...now)  -- is invariably about the intersection of social-cultural moments with complex human beings who let us see, and sympathize with, all sides of their dilemmas and choices. I'm thrilled that he is adapting. Thrilled and honored. 

How involved in the filmmaking process are you and has it been any sort of revelation for you? Does it feel like a new story you are telling now?

I don't think I'm going to be very involved, alas. Sayles, Jacobs, DiBonaventura, and Amy Pascal:They're all real pros, the top of their fields -- they know how to make movies. It's up to them to consult me if they want or need. They know where to find me -- and: I'm pushy, so if things go too long without me being consulted, I'll find a way to knock on that door. Happily, I'm secure -- and they're secure --- with the fact that I did so much original, source- attributed journalism on these women's lives, we have that part under control. ("Life rights" permission/acqusition for "public figures" has a legally lower bar than for non-public figures.) (Music rights: now, that's are another issue... and I will breathe a sigh of relief once that's taken care of.)

Do you think there's an appetite for this movie?

This may sound self-aggrandizing but...I really do. There was a magic, sexiness, integrity, and historical significance about that era and these women and their music that hasn't really been  tapped. (Lisa Chodolenko's Laurel Canyon didn't have the expected magic. Todd Haynes's I'm Not There was too abstract. In its own way, I think Factory Girl came close, but critics unfairly panned it. For my money, Across The Universe hit it out of the park, but the young people in the audience I saw it with made snarky remarks while I nostalgically sobbed.)  When we lift the veil here and there and see bits and pieces of the specialness of that time  -- in Carole's and James's phenomenally successful summer 2010 concert tour, for example -- it's like, "Why have we  been deprived of this for so long??"  When a great  musician biopic comes along -- Walk the Line or Ray -- it's an emotional experience like little else; it's  a high. If that movie presents not just an era and a rise to success, but also real characters the audience can approvingly root for (and, unlike Ray Charles and Johnny Cash, these women were non-drug-abusing, consistently productive middle class girls) -- then that's an added  bit of popcorn power.  

As I said, I think people will walk out of the theater singing.

Now: We just have to get to that part!

Thanks so much for talking to me, Caroline. Readers can visit my book's website -- www.girlslikeusthebook.com -- and / or its companion music / media site:

www.girlslikeusthemusic.com

    

Jon Papernick talks about innovative book selling, bold writing, and fame

Jon Papernick is a total original. I met him at one of my readings and he handed me his book, There is No Other,  and asked if I would blurb it. That night I started to read and I was completely knocked out. Words like genius floated in my head. ( i said: "Surprising, shocking, profane and hilarious.") I got back in touch with him immediately and we've become, I'm happy to say, friends. I have a vested interest in his work--which I think is unlike anything I've ever read before. Plus, he's a swell, funny guy. And The Ascent of Eli Israel, which garnered raves from the NYT and more, is just brilliant.  The cool Papernick The Book Peddler t-shirt (thanks, Jon! I wear it proudly, even over my pajamas, as you can see!) is part of his innovative marketing, where he indeed peddles his book from a pushcart.

Thanks so much Jon for coming on my blog--and many thanks for the way cool t-shirt!

You've been compared (and rightly so) to Nathan Englander and Bernard Malamud. The Ascent of Eli Israel is being reissued after ten years, with raves from everyone from the NYT to the Washington Post Book World. Indeed, the book is weird and wired, breathtaking and bold, as it limns modern day Israel and the lives of Jews and Muslims. So I want to ask, how do you see these stories differently now than you did a decade ago? What's changed?

I do see the stories very differently than I did a decade ago since I seem to have hardened into something really permanent. When the book was first published I could remember writing every line and how I came to it, whereas now I almost feel that these stories were written by somebody else, something far, far wiser than me. I really wrote those stories to try and sort out my feelings about the Palestinian/Israeli conflict after living there and working as a journalist for year. None of the stories provide any answers, even after all this time, but I think they provide plenty of questions, and I think that is what good literature should be all about. Interestingly, I wrote most of the stories in 1998 in 1999 when it was sacrilege to even discuss the possibility that the Oslo Peace Accords would fail. It's easy to forget that for a few dizzying years, peace between Israel and the Palestinians and her neighbors seemed to be a fait accompli. I was writing about a collapse that had not yet happened.

People in your extraordinary stories are always pushing the boundaries: A man brings a barely dressed young woman into a religious neighborhood, a man desperate to protect himself kills a young boy. But despite the stunning shocks here, there's an incredible compassion and hope in your stories. How do you think people tap and/or find that compassion?

I think people find compassion when they are given the opportunity to know someone intimately. People are naturally less inclined to look with empathy upon strangers, people alien to their experience. That is why think good literature is so important, as it has a great humanizing effect, allowing the reader to walk in the shoes of somebody in a drastically different situation than herself. I write not to prove what I know, but to know what I don't know, and I found that characters based on the types of people that I might not have empathized with became more and more sympathetic for me the more I knew them. Ultimately, I came to love all of my characters, and I think a writer needs to respect his characters deeply in order for a reader to care about their fates.

Can you talk about your writing process? And what are you working on now?

My writing process lately has been extremely sporadic as I'm teaching full-time at Emerson college and have two very small, cute and demanding children. But, the semester is just coming to an end and I have two months to get as much writing done as possible before my summer job begins. I would like to get 100 pages done by July 1 if possible, but of late, I've become quite entranced by Twitter (feel free to follow me at @JonPapernick). As far as process, I usually write by hand, unreadable hand, even to my own trained eyes, and then I dictate what I've done through Dragon NaturallySpeaking. So, really old school and really new school. I am working on a novel entitled The Sunday Synagogue Softball League, which centers around the players on a softball team whose Synagogue has gone bankrupt after losing their money to Bernie Madoff. I don't want to say too much, but hopefully I'll be able to send you a copy before too long.

Tell us about the ingenious creation of Papernick the Book Peddler. How did this come about? How have people been responding? Were you surprised by all the media attention or did this seem like an idea whose time has come? 

The idea of Papernick the Book Peddler came about almost as a joke, the way that most of my best ideas arise. But, I think this idea speaks to writers who pull out their hair every time they see their Amazon.com ratings, something I have been guilty of, and instead puts control back in the writer's hands. I was tired of not being noticed, and I wanted to take my books directly to the people, find my own readership without any intermediary or middleman. I've gotten great reviews in the past, but it doesn't always translate into sales, and I want to define my own success by taking some control over getting my books into people's hands. Overall, people have been responding very positively, and I've certainly sold more books than I would've sold otherwise. We'll see how it goes this summer, but I plan on continuing this as long as I'm having fun [and as long as the weather is good]. I wasn't surprised by the media attention because I think this is a really interesting story since it is a very counterintuitive way to sell books consider living in the age of the Kindle and other e-book formats. However, people who love books will always appreciate holding a book in their hand and meeting the author face-to-face. I would love to have the New York Times pick up this story. This seems like the kind of story that I would read in the Sunday Times. So, my fingers are crossed for now.


What question didn't I ask that I should have?

I'm not sure if you asked me this question on the record or off the record, but you said you were astounded that I was not famous, and that makes me smile. I can't speak to the vicissitudes of the publishing world, but I do believe if you do good work and if you hang around long enough, people will find the books that they need to read. As far as being famous, I'm not too concerned about that, but I would like to reach a level of name recognition in which new opportunities may arise that I haven't up to now have access to.

Tayari Jones talks about Silver Sparrow

I first met Tayari at an Algonquin reading at AWP. To say I was enthralled listening to her read is putting it mildly, but what I loved even more was how spirited she was, how generous (this woman sets off sparks.)  I took an instant liking to her--and to her novel, Silver Sparrow. Her debut novel, Leaving Atlanta, about the child murders in Atlanta, is being made into a film and was named one of the best novels of 2002 by both the Atlanta Journal-Constitution and the Washington Post. Silver Sparrow, about a bigamist, about daughters, about love and loyalty, is the number one indie pick for June. Tayari is also an associate professor at the prestigious MFA program at Rutgers-Newark University. 


Thank you so, so much for being a part of my blog, Tayari. 



I love the secret that is at the heart of Silver Sparrow: two daughters share a bigamist father. What’s the backstory behind this idea? What sparked the writing?

I feel like I should always start by saying my father is not a bigamist. But that said, I do have two paternal sisters who didn’t grow up with me. I have always been interested in this idea of sisters who don’t grow up together. Me and my sisters are ten years apart in age, and they are not secret, but there is still this divide. I have recently realized that all my novels involve a sister who is far away. In a way, isn’t that the fantasy—that somewhere our there, you have a sister, an ally, but you just don’t know it. Of course, in this story there is so much between the sisters that the idea that they will be friends is unrealistic, but the impulse to try.. Or the burning curiosity to know.. who can resist that?

The structure of the novel is as complex as it is riveting. What made you decide to tell the novel from two voices? What problems did you encounter in the writing process?

Since the sisters have two different worlds—one lives in the shadows and one lives what she thinks is a normal life—there was no way a single narrator could get the job done. My idea was to use FOUR narrators. I wanted both wives and both daughters. But then I decided that the daughters could tell their mothers’ stories. The biggest challenge as a writer was making the voices different. The girls have SO MUCH in common that they have a lot of the same speech issues. And they even have the same dad so they share a lot of references. I wanted it so when you turn to the first page of Chaurrisse’s chapter, you immediately know that you aren’t with Dana any more. I had to revise and revise and revise to get it right!

Silver Sparrow has this indelible sense of time and place—so much so that Atlanta seems to be a character itself. What made you choose Atlanta during the 80s as your setting?

Well, first off—I am a Georgia Peach! I was born in downtown Atlanta and most of my work is set in my hometown. The city is changing so much with “urban renewal”, etc. So writing about the city as it was, feels sometimes like an act of preservation. Many of the settings of the novel aren’t even there anymore. And many of the places aren’t the sort of settings that would be immortalized in literature; I mean who cares where seventeen year old black girls hung out in 1987? Who would erect a commemorative plaque? Me, I guess.

Besides being an incredible writer, you also teach. How does teaching inform your writing (and vice versa?)

Teaching really cuts both ways. The plus side is that always talking about writing, means I am always thinking about writing. Working out the kinks in my students stories really helps me be more conscious in working out the challenges in my own work. But the down side is that talking about writing is not the same thing as writing. I get hardly any work done in the school year. I feel so lucky though—next year, I will be at the Radcliffe Institute on fellowship. No teaching for me, just writing.

The ubiquitous question: What are you working on now and how is it a different challenge than Silver Sparrow?

The new book is historical and I have never written anything that has happened before my lifetime. It’s set in the 1930s. I don’t want to say too much because I am superstitious, but I am so nervous about this challenge. I worry that my ambition may be greater than my ability. When I was in high school, there was this huge sign in the lobby that said, “Not failure, but low aim, is sin.” I am trying to keep that in mind.

What are you reading these days?

Pictures of You, of course.

Clea Simon talks about Dogs Don't Lie, writing, and animal speech

I first met Clea on a writers' site. She was so smart and so interesting that I immediately went out and got her book, Fatherless Women, and we began to email back and forth.  Then we met.  Then our spouses met, and before you knew it, we were all friends. Clea's one of my best friends on the planet and a fabulous writer, and I'm honored and thrilled to have her guest post on my blog. Thank you so much, Clea!

What would your pet sound like if she (or he) could talk to you? What would his or her voice be?

These are the questions that are at the heart of my new mystery, Dogs Don’t Lie. I mean, we know what our animals sound like in their real state, their natural state, their barks and meows and hisses. But what if we could understand them – if they spoke to us in our language, with human voices? What would those voices be like?

For some reason, it has always amused me to imagine my cat talking down to me. Sometimes, I imagine her scolding me – usually when I’ve done something that I assume must be annoying, like moving her toys to vacuum, or stepping over her when she’s sprawled in a doorway. “Must you?” I hear the disdain in her voice. “Oh, please.”

Don’t get me wrong; I’m neither psychotic nor self-hating. This voice just seems right somehow, and truly, when she comes up to me afterward all purry and wanting to be petted, this pseudo-scorn makes it all sweeter.

But the questions remain, and that eventually led me to create the unwilling animal psychic Pru Marlow. Pru can “hear” what animals say, telepathically, and she is continually surprised not only by what they say but also by how they say it. What their voices sound like – and, by extension, how they view themselves. (I’m not giving anything away, I think, when I reveal that the animals Pru meets in Dogs Don’t Lie often have very different opinions about themselves than their tone-deaf humans do – and often different names. It seemed quite natural, to me, for a neutered bichon frise to reject the name “Bitsy,” for example. In his mind, he was “Growler,” and acted accordingly.)

The voice of my protagonist Pru was another challenge, a bigger one. I was already writing one series when Pru came to me. My Dulcie Schwartz mysteries – which continue this month with Grey Zone – feature a bookish graduate student. Dulcie is sweet, a little naïve, and extremely earnest. When I write her, I become her, to the point of adopting her mannerisms to some extent. (Not a bad thing: she’s much neater than I am normally.) But when I started with Pru, I’d been reading a lot of the new female-centered noir (books like Megan Abbott’s Queenpin). And so Pru burst out tough and mouthy. Promiscuous, a little dangerous. Not the kind of heroine you’d expect in a mystery with talking animals, and not the kind of character I’d written before. It was a little scary, but also fun – and the more I wrote, the more her personality developed. Pru’s a cool character. Maybe that’s why her cat, Wallis, had to be even tougher, a take-no-prisoners tabby who isn’t afraid to read Pru the riot act when she steps out of line – or steps over her to leave a room. These characters declared their voices, and I had to fall in line.

Voice, of course, is always intriguing to writers. Questions around voice are key. What tone do we chose? What point of view? Voice is what makes a writer, makes a book. Voice is vital. The funny thing, I’ve come to learn is that in my chosen genre it is often ignored.

Crime fiction, after all, is known for its plotting. The biggest crime fiction names, in particular, ride on action-packed storylines. Boom boom boom – the hero is up and running, taking bullets and felling bad guys. In some ways, it is plotting that separates these big thrill rides from the more old-fashioned classic or cozy mysteries that are more or less what I write. Jack Reacher is never going to puzzle out the clues, just as Miss Marple never broke a collarbone and went on to tackle her suspect. And since these big thrillers are what earn the big bucks – and get made into movies – plot is seen as all important: the driver of series, of sales, and of readers.

This isn’t a complaint exactly. I do love plots and I admire page-turners. I read almost all of Dan Brown’s oeuvre at one point, just so I could learn his structures. Believe me, if I could end every chapter with “and then she saw the gun,” I’d be happy.

And yet, character – voice – keeps coming up. In fact, there’s a funny discussion going on in the world of crime fiction. You’ve heard of Stieg Larsson, the “Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” author? Well, his books have lots of action, sex, and violence, but what the critics have been commenting on is his heroine – the feisty Lisbeth Salander. It’s like they’ve just discovered characters. 

Maybe it’s that they don’t expect them. Maybe, despite the evidence of Dorothy L. Sayers and Donna Leon, Agatha Christie and Denise Mina, they think crime fiction – mysteries – aren’t up to interesting, fully realized characters. But readers do, and we writers are readers. Maybe that’s why I’ve been obsessed by characters recently. Possessed by them. It’s their voices.

Heidi Durrow and I talk about writing, anxiety and everything inbetween!

Huge thanks to the wonderful Barbara Drummond Mead and Reading Group Choices for this incredible new feature, Author Squared.  Heidi Durrow (The Girl Who Fell From the Sky) and I talk about the writing life here!

Sarah Jio talks about The Violets of March and authors who help other authors!

Guest Post: 

The Jodi Picoult Effect: Why Big-Time Authors Who Help Newcomers Rock!

Caroline, thank you so much for having me here! As a debut author, it’s so lovely and encouraging to be supported by successful writers (you!) who have also been in the same shoes, which is what I want to share a little about today. Being a first-time novelist is both exciting and nerve-wracking (as I’m sure you remember!), so thank God for veteran authors who stick their necks out on behalf of newcomers.  

My first novel, The Violets of March [LINK: http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0452297036/craforboo-20], is out on April 26 from Penguin (Plume). I sold the book last spring, and after the contracts were signed, I realized that I had a pretty steep learning curve ahead. After all, book publishing was a whole new ballgame for me. I came to fiction from the world of magazines, where I’ve been a contributor to publications like Glamour, Redbook, Health, SELF, Real Simple, O, The Oprah Magazine, and many others. I knew my way around the magazine industry, but books? There was so much to figure out. Blurbs! Marketing! Sales! Book buyers! Publicity! Um, yikes!

Perhaps most daunting was the task of reaching out to other authors and shyly asking them to read my book in hopes of getting an endorsement for the cover. I fretted about this for a long time. Frankly, the whole idea of sharing my work with other authors made me feel so vulnerable (something I needed to get over quick if I was going to be any good at this novel thing!). I thought about the authors I admired and respected and wondered if they’d ever—in a million years—be interested in reading my fledgling debut. Sure, I was proud of my novel, for sure, but there’s something very frightening about sending an early copy to an author you love. But, with great anxiety and trembling hands, I composed an email to Jodi Picoult (you know, the bestselling author of a zillion books, including Sing You Home). I told her about Violets, shared the book trailer, and held my breath as I clicked send. 

And guess what? A few minutes later, she wrote back. Just like that. And I nearly fainted. 

She shared that she’d already received five other blurb requests that day alone and couldn’t make any promises. But, she said if I still wanted to send a galley over just in case, she’d do her best to have a look. Yep, I sent a galley out that very afternoon, with fingers and toes crossed. And, several weeks later, I nearly fell out of my chair when she wrote to say she enjoyed the book and had written a blurb for me [LINK: http://www.sarahjio.com/?p=1128]. I was 9 months pregnant at the time, and promptly began having labor contractions. (True story.)

Here’s the thing, Jodi has an insanely busy schedule. She’s one of the top-producing authors in the world. She’s basicallysuperwoman. She didn’t have to give me (a total stranger with nothing to offer her in return but insane amounts of gratitude) the time of day, but she did. Her vote of confidence for my novel meant so much to me, as did the support from Allison Winn Scotch, Claire Cook, Sarah Pekkanen, Beth Hoffman, and Kelly O’Connor McNees—all of whom prove that the book world is filled with plenty of terrific, warm and generous souls. If I’m ever so fortunate to be in a similar place of success, I vow to be just as generous to new authors as these wonderful women have been to me. 
 
About me:
Sarah Jio is the author of The Violets of March, out from Penguin (Plume) on April 26, a Target Emerging Author selection and Costco buyer pick. Her second novel, The Bungalow, will also be published by Plume in April 2012. She lives in Seattle with her family and is at work on her third novel. To learn more about her, visit www.sarahjio.com.

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Sarah Jio
Freelance Writer | Novelist | Blogger
Health and Fitness Blogger, Glamour.com
| www.sarahjio.com
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Tourarama

Yep.  I'm still touring, and it's still incredibly fun. But besides being the Vintage Beaded Cardigan and Red Cowboy Boots Tour, it's also been the Blizzard/Freezing Rain/Subzero Temperatures/Tornado tour.  Even when I got to Los Angeles, after tromping through the snows of Boston and Chicago and Ohio, it was...well, rainy and freezing!  This weekend, I was in North Carolina and a University Women Book and Author Luncheon in Charlotte, North Carolina.  Just in time for the tornado watch! But I've learned I don't really mind the bad weather, and if anything, it gives you a closer connection to the people who do brave the elements to come and see you!

Lesson Two:
 I've discovered that I love to speak in front of crowds--something miraculous for someone who always thought she was shy (Ha! Me, shy! Not anymore!) I love to just stand up and talk and interact with people, so much so that I signed with a speaking agency. (Imagine that!) When I first started, I wrote out speeches and memorized them in front of the mirror, complete with hand motions! I was terrified of forgetting a line, let alone a paragraph. I was third up in Charlotte, and after listening to the first two speakers, I realized my speech was all wrong. It was in the wrong order, it was too mannered, it wasn't funny, enough.  So when I finally got to the podium, I told everyone I was throwing the speech out and just speaking from my heart. And wonder of wonders, it was easy, it was fun, and I wasn't nervous about forgetting anything.  I was just talking.

Lesson Three:
Every way of going will have a problem so relax and be prepared. Planes are always delayed. In Chicago, it was two hours, because they couldn't find the pilot. ("He's out drinking," the person sitting next to me said.) Last night, the plane was delayed an hour because "A passenger who should not be on the plane is on the plane." Worse, planes have turbulence. Last night, coming in from Charlotte, there was so much turbulence, that the woman beside me began crossing herself and shouting, "Mary, Mother of God!" while clutching the seat. When the plane landed, we all cheered.

Trains, though an easier ride and smoother (I love trains) have their own issue.  Coming in from Boston, I draped my favorite blue chiffon scarf from Korean, a present from a friend, over my face, to sleep.  I was sitting next to some guy, and when I woke up, the guy was gone, and so was my scarf!!!

Lesson Four:
In this new age of publishing, not everyone gets a tour. It is an incredibly wonderful thing to be going to so many places and I always remember to thank everyone I meet profusely, and to be grateful. If there are any problems--well, aren't these the problems I always dreamed of being able to have?

Portrait of the artist as a 15-year-old

So here is the story. While obsessively googling myself shortly after the publication of Pictures of You, I find this gorgeously written review. I love it so much I track down the blog and the writer (that's him in the photo), and to my surprise, Robby Auld, the scribe, is a teenager! Even more astonishing, he has this great blog where he talks sensitively about books he loves and the life he is leading and the things he is writing. We have occasional emails, and then tweets and when I mention I have just hired a terrific research assistant intern, he tweets, "I would kill to be your research assistant." Well, of course, I can have two, and of course, I hire him on the spot.

Robby came to one of my readings in Boston at the incredible Back Pages Books. I knew who he was the moment I saw him quietly standing by a shelf of books. "You're who I think you are, aren't you?" I said, and I made him let me give him a hug. While I was giving my talk/reading, I insisted on introducing Robby to everyone and urged them all to read his blog. And now I'm giving Robby some space on my blog because truly, he's one of the most interesting teenagers around.  

Thank you, Robby. I can't wait until we can do a Q and A about your first published novel.

The thing I notice from your blog is how truly brave you are. You continually reveal yourself through your writing in a really honest way, exploring such things as the rejection in acting, the fear in writing, and all sorts of human relationships. Yet you call your blog your safe place, even though you are not playing it safe in what you reveal. So, can you tell me more about why you feel protected within the blog? How and when and why did you begin your blog?

It’s really fascinating to me how obsessed my generation is with constant communication, yet 90% of us have no idea how to actually communicate. Thank you, for calling me brave. That means a lot to me. I would count myself among the people who are socially awkward. It is much easier for me to write about my feelings and the things I am thinking about on the Internet than in person with someone I know, and even with someone I trust. People can respond to my posts, and tell me what they think, how they feel about what I wrote, but only after the fact. The blog is my safe place because I am free to say nearly whatever I want, think nearly whatever I want, and I don’t have to worry too much about the kids I go to school with making fun of me for it. I’m not bullied much at all, which I’m grateful for. I’ve been blogging in a few separate places since middle school, but I’ve had this current blog for just about 2 years. It’s grown as I’ve grown. I’m pretty sure I’ve answered your question, and also gone off somewhere else entirely. I tend to ramble.

You wrote an incredibly moving post about your sister and your nephew and your mother, which reads like a short story or the basis of a wonderful novel. Is it? And is your life the basis of your writing work?

Again, THANK YOU. To veer off again, that is something I also really, really like about blogging. The COMPLIMENTS. I am a sensitive teenage boy in need of constant praise. Just kidding. I hope.

I have so many ideas for stories and books and other creative things I could/hope to do/write in my life. My family isn’t the basis of a novel/story YET, but never say never. I do have an idea for a massive family saga, but I’m not sure I’m mature enough at this point to tackle something as large as I’d like it to be. Doesn’t every writer need a family saga?

I think every writer’s personal life factors into their writing. My stories aren’t usually based on me, but they are coming from me, and I am the one that is writing them, so there are parts of me all over the place, though I like to keep them hidden. Even if I’m writing from a girl’s point of view, or someone who is much older than I am, and even if the story takes place miles and miles away from where I am writing it, it is coming out of my life, because I am living my life as I am writing it. If that makes any sense at all. I’m rambling again. Can you tell I don’t do this often.

When did you first begin to write and know that this is what you wanted to do? Where do you see yourself in ten years? (I have my own ideas about where I think you are headed, but I’d rather see yours.) And can you talk about your writing process?

I like to think I’ve always been writing, but I honestly can’t remember. I was a very flamboyant little boy, so much of my pre-public school years involved me wearing belly shirts and Spider Man underwear and dancing to the Spice Girls. Nearly every picture of me from my childhood involves me and the peace sign. Girl Power and all that. I started writing seriously a few years ago. I’ve written a few longer stories, which could possibly be called novels, but I never finished them, and I’ve moved on. I’ve always had trouble really sticking to stories I write, but I’ve learned that just means it isn’t the right time. I’ve wanted to be a writer, some kind of writer, since early middle school I think. It was only recently that I realized I could maybe actually do it.

If I tried to answer the question, of why I know that writing is what I want to do with the rest of my life, in condensed form, it would make no sense. So my short answer is that I just know. I’m sure you understand. It's a gut feeling.

Where do I see myself in ten years? Well, I’ll be months away from turning 26. I would like to be wrapping up an MFA program at some suave liberal arts college, and maybe be searching for a teaching position. Or, working in a book store. Or, working in a coffee shop. But, writing. I would like to be writing. I am never going to stop writing. (TELL ME YOUR IDEAS!)

What's the significance of running for amsterdam?

This is a funny question. Running For Amsterdam is my initials in word form. Robert Francis Auld. I came up with that name when I was in middle school, and I was OBSESSED with it for a while, though not so much anymore. I made an e-mail, which is the one we often communicate through, and I also had a Myspace under that name (though I have not checked it in months). A lot of people I meet wonder about that, and when I tell them they just say, “Oh, right. I guess that makes sense.” It doesn’t have much significance at all. Regarding Amsterdam, though- I love Europe. So much.

What question should I be mortified that I forgot to ask you?

I stayed home from school today, and was so excited to answer these questions. I feel pretty legit right now. So, THANK YOU. I thank you all the time. I will never be able to thank you enough. This is just so great. If you’d asked me about my favorite food, I would’ve said breakfast cereal. I love cereal, and Europe, and you. Thank you, again and again and again.

Now in Paperback! Anne Lamott talks about Imperfect Birds

To say I love Anne Lamott is putting it mildly. She's funny, warm, witty, and more than a few times, she has saved my emotional life, both with her books and with her spot-on advice. She makes you see the world differently (and she makes you laugh.)  Her fabulous novel Imperfect Birds is now out in paperback and it's just wonderful. To celebrate, I'm buying copies for my friends AND I'm reprinting an interview with Anne.

Anne Lamott should be a national treasure (complete with a holiday named after her.) Her book on writing (Bird by Bird) is required reading for any budding writer (or anxiety written pro), her book on having a child (Operating Instructions) should be tucked inside every diaper bag, and her novels simply soar. Her newest, Imperfect Birds, returns to one of her earlier novels, Rosie, to tell the story of teenage drug culture and parents being terrified for their the safety of their kids. It's as remarkable as she is--and thank you, thank you, Anne for answering my questions.

Of all your books, this one was the one that absolutely terrified me. It was so raw, so real (plus, I’m the mother of a 13 year old and I worry about the future endlessly) and yet, it also was, to me, the most spiritual of your books, too. Would you say this is because in those dark, scary moments, that’s when there is light (if you can notice it?) Or that being tested give us an opportunity to reveal our best (as well as our worst) selves?

When we are faced with really frightening developments in our lives, like loss or a bad diagnosis or a lost child, we get stripped down to what is true and essential--and this is the most spiritual place we can arrive at. And then to be deeply loved in such a raw and undefended state--without armor, routine, and the ability to Fake it--is the absolute definition of Spiritual.

Knowing Rosie (from your novel Rosie) as a child and then seeing her as a teenager here also made this book more nerve-wracking for me. Because Rosie was the child of an alcoholic mother, I was sure Rosie would never want to have anything to do with substance abuse. Is this usually the case?

There's no such thing as "usually the case". Kids with alcoholic parents have a genetic predisposition to be alcoholics or substance abusers. I really have not observed a "norm". What I've observed in Marin is high-achieving kids with seemingly ideal family circumstances, who have lost their lives, minds, futures, to high risk behavior. We just lost another gorgeous 17 y.o. Marin girl last weekend, about to graduate, who got drunk with her girlfriends about 20 minutes from my home, fell off the cliffs into the ocean, and washed up near Muir Beach.
Elizabeth doesn’t believe in God, though she does seem to have a belief in some things, and there was that powerful scene in the sweat lodge where she feels a glimmer of something larger than herself. Do you think it matters whether you do or you don’t believe, as long as you are open to the moment? And that being open to one moment, like in the sweat lodge, might make you open to more moments?

Yes, I do think there an many many ways to opening our hearts and awakening to the present--and Presence. To seek this presence, of a deep rich reality, the shimmering Now, is to find it. And then some commit to developing this sense of Life, and other people keep hitting the snooze button via workaholism or multi-tasking, which is absolutely life-destroying
For me, the novel was about the reality we create for ourselves—i.e. Rosie’s reality is that what she is doing isn’t so wrong, but James and Elizabeth reality about what she is doing is really something different. Rosie lies, but so does Elizabeth to James. You nail the fierce love parents have for their kids, and the pain when those kids start to pull away into their own lives (as well they should) and their ignorance of the pain it causes their parents. How do you think it’s possible for anyone to really know the truth and reality of someone else’s life? And is there a way we can be better at it?

I don't know that we can really understand what it's like to be another person's, but we can see when people are exhibiting self-destruction and deceit. Parents have to be willing to risk not being the coolest parent on the block, in order to set healthy boundaries, and to impose appropriate consequences for lying, stealing, smoking, etc. A lot of parents so desperately need their kid's affection that they (maybe unconsciously) don't see what their kids are up to--don't see the cries for help, the out-of-controlledness. They don't want to fight with their kids, or have their kids pull away, and so they keep their heads in the sand, or get it to come out OK in their minds--ANYthing that will keep the appearance of closeness: anything to avoid making waves. But as I said, another 17 year old died this weekend.

I’m intensely curious about process, so can you talk a little bit about yours in writing Imperfect Birds? And can you talk about what you are working on now?

Well, novels as you know are a lot harder than stories or essays--it takes close to 3 years, and you never quite know what you're doing. I really try to commit to my characters, and capturing each one's voice and truth, instead of committing to a finished novel. It can be a nightmare for a lot of the process, because you're trying to keep so many plates spinning in the air. So I just to get a day's work done everyday. I let myself write incredibly shitty drafts. I ask one or two cherished writer-friends for feedback. I read novels, to see how other people handle tough stories of being human, and in families, and community; how we survive unsurvivable loss, how we grow, how we age, how we heal, how we keep our senses of humor. And I write everything over, and over, and over; and rely DEEPLY on great editing.

What question didn’t I ask that I really and truly should have?

You could ask how Sam is doing! He is 20 now, a student of industrial design at an art academy in San Francisco, and he and his girlfriend have an 8 month old baby boy, who (along with Sam) is the apple of my eye. His name is Jax; my grandma name is Nana.

Valerie Trueblood, the author of the amazing Marry or Burn, talks about weddings, writings and more

I first read Valerie Trueblood's Seven Loves a few years ago and was knocked out by the exquisite language and the genius of the story. Marry or Burn, her new and astonishing collection of short stories (She's been compared to Alice Munro, and rightly so), examines the thorny path love and commitment can take.  I asked Valerie if she would write a guest post, and I can't tell you how truly honored and thrilled I am that she agreed. Thank you, thank you, Valerie.

A wedding is a good place to think.  We cry at the start as the bride comes forward, smile at the end as the couple sweeps past, but in between, while people get up and down, hand each other things, read from shaking pieces of paper, there’s a lull.  Despite the voices, it seems as if a mute has been put on the scene.  That’s when I try, in the pew or the little plastic chair sinking into the grass, to formulate a position. 

Is marriage a good thing?

Is it a good thing with a lot of bad things happening in it?  Is it a bad thing with a lot of good people in it trying to make improvements?  Is it a natural state?  Do we have to live in pairs?  Is that even the pattern any more, or are we replacing it with something else, and if so, what?

I didn’t just decide one day to write a book of stories about marriage.  In fact now I’d like to experiment with a landscape in which it does not figure—for instance a series of stories that never use the word “wife.”  But I was sitting on the floor looking through a pile of stories, and just as I started to read “Invisible River,” a story about an inauspicious wedding, the title came to me:  MARRY OR BURN.  It’s from that letter of Paul’s to the Corinthians in which his advice to those who can’t be celibate is that it’s better to marry than to burn.  The title called the book into being. 

Right away I saw that the problem would be keeping stories out rather than finding ones to include.   Whatever the subject, marriage would turn up, like the schoolkid who flaps her hand at every question.

Harper’s magazine puts together a wonderful list every month, the Index, made up of facts in odd combination and awful or comical statistics.   There we learn that the chance an unmarried American under thirty says marriage is becoming obsolete is one in two.  The chance that he or she wants to get married:  19 in 20.

But in my work I try to steer clear of irony.  There doesn’t seem to be room for it in even the longest short story.  Often when people want to give a story a compliment they say it has a novel in it; people have written to me that one story or another of mine is a miniature novel. (Will women writers ever see the end of the word “miniature”?)  I don’t think so; I think the short story is a unique form and is working in territory where few novels go.

The long story that closes the book, “Beloved, You Looked Into Space,” had been with me for years, working its way out of a bitter center.  For the bear attack alone I had to bury myself in books about animal attacks—very troubling for an animal lover, but fruitful in its paradoxes.  The bear makes his appearance, but the story is really about a family, a father and two daughters, coming back from the death of the mother, over two decades that have blurred the grief but never annulled it.  At the end the characters have tumbled through all this in memory, and exist for a moment, I hope, in the arrested, blessed state granted to weddings and to short stories.