My son-in-law’s mother died this week.  We knew it was inevitable, and she died surrounded by the people who loved her.  She was too young, and she had too many contributions left to make, but I take comfort in the wealth of family who were there for her at the end.  Her life will be celebrated this weekend in a funeral mass and in a gathering of her large, rambunctious clan.  We will be there to honor her, too.

I didn’t know Peg well, but we had one very important thing in common.  My daughter.  And from beginning to end, Peg was the mother-in-law I always wanted for her.  They probably didn’t agree on many things, but it never really mattered.  Peg showed her caring and concern for my daughter at every turn.  She had her back when I couldn’t be there.  She demonstrated how important family is, visiting, hosting parties, and arranging family camping trips.  When I was with them, she made me part of the family, too.  Not with effort, but with unconscious grace.

I love my own in-law children.  All three of them.  I always wanted a child with red-hair (genetically unlikely) and instead was given two daughters-in-law with red hair.  They’re fabulous cooks and fun to talk and shop with.  We now have a family tradition of Thanksgiving pedicures together, and it’s a cherished memory each year.  My son-in-law warms my heart with his care and concern for my daughter and grandchildren.  He’s a go-to guy, and I know he can always be counted on.  He’s the husband my daughter needed, and she chose well.  They all did.  I am blessed.

So here’s what I learned from Peg.  You don’t have to buy your way into an in-law’s heart.  You don’t have to make elaborate gestures or statements of affection.  You really just have to show up.  Again and again.  When you’re needed, and even when you’re not.

Thanks, Peg, for the advice you never even realized you gave us.  You will be missed.  You will be forever loved by all your children, those you gave birth to and those by marriage.

What a wonderful legacy you left.

Book reviews.  Seems like a simple subject, right?  You read a book, you tell friends you liked it or didn’t, and in this day of social media, you do it online so lots of people can read your opinion. If you’re the author of the book in question you read the review and you. . .

Explode!

Okay, maybe not. Lately novelists everywhere have discovered that responding to negative book reviews is a path to self-destruction. Trying to set the record straight? Responding to inaccuracies or obvious rants? Let the flame wars begin. And they have, all over the Internet. The logic seems to go like this: Novelists have had their say between the covers of their book. Now readers and reviewers want to have theirs without interference. If the authors try to defend themselves, they’re fair game, not just their novels.

I understand. Up to a point. Of course I draw the line at mean-spirited reviews by people who have clearly not read the novel in question. (I’m not referring to ANY of my reviews, by the way, which have been for the most part fair and kind.) But we novelists are learning to let all reviews silently roll over us. Many of my friends refuse to read theirs, even those vetted by loved ones. When it comes right down to it, if we’ve turned in the best book we’re capable of, then we’ve done our job. Some people will love our books and some will not. In the immortal words of Ricky Nelson (quoted at Southern Exposure far too often): “. . . you can’t please everyone, so you’ve got to please yourself.”

I’ve actually learned a thing or two from critical reviews. Some I can slough off, knowing that reader just needs another novelist to enjoy, because our tastes will never mesh. Some I can nod with and agree that yes, I could have done that better, and so I take the criticism to heart. Some are clearly written by a reader in a bad mood who is anxious to unload. I can relate to that, as well.

Recently, though, novelists have learned that if we want positive reviews and lots of them, glowing reviews are as close as our bank account. We can buy them. And lest you think that’s just silly, trust me.  A number of positive reviews will grab attention at places like Amazon.com. Think I’m kidding? Yesterday’s New York Times business section explained how it’s done. Get out the checkbook and you, too, can have positive reviews. As many as you can pay for. By people who have never picked up your book.

Of course most authors, this one included, would prefer no reviews to purchased ones. However, thoughtful reviews by thoughtful readers are much desired.

If you’re wondering what a helpful review looks like to an author?  Here are a few things to consider:

1. First, read the book in its entirety.
2. Remember those movie trailers you hate, the ones that show every important scene so that you no longer feel a need to actually buy a ticket when the movie makes its way to theaters? Let the author reveal the important plot points. Just hint. Hints are great.
3. Remember that your review will matter to other book lovers, to the author, to the novel’s publisher.
4. Most important? If you love a book, take the time to put up a review. If you want more, more, more, let Amazon, B&N, Goodreads, and any other review site know. Blog about it. Mention it on Twitter or Facebook. If you didn’t love a book?

Delete this post.

Welcome to Sunday Poetry. If this is your first visit you can read about the purpose and inspiration of my Sunday poetry blogs here.

Today’s poem, Porch Swing in September by Ted Kooser is a reminder of the changes in the air as fall approaches, as well as so much more, brought to us as only Mr. Kooser  can. I had the privilege of hearing him speak and read his poetry two weeks ago, an experience I won’t soon forget.  Afterwards I sat on my own porch swing, the perfect place to consider what I had heard.

Remember, we read poetry together here for the pure pleasure of the experience. There are no quizzes, no right ways to read or contemplate the poem we share. Absolutely no dissecting allowed. Just come along for the “read.” What line, word or thought will you carry with you this week? If you’d like to tell us where the poem took you? We’ll listen.

Remember, too, there is a special giveaway in progress for those who comment on any Sunday Poetry blog before year’s end.  An autographed copy of Billy Collins’s Horoscopes for the Dead.  See the details here.

Diane Chamberlain and I have been chatting back and forth for the past two weeks, covering subjects like how to present “unsympathetic” characters sympathetically, character growth and change, whether characters become real to us, and more. If you missed the previous posts, you can scroll down here for my portions, and visit Diane’s blog, as well, to find the whole conversation. Today we’re concluding with some questions our blog readers have asked along the way.

As a special treat everyone who commented on either of our blogs is eligible for a book giveaway. Diane’s Summer’s Child, and my Sunset Bridge. We’ll let random.org choose our winners on Sunday, and you have until Saturday midnight to comment.

We hope you’ve enjoyed our back and forth. We thought it would be a fun way for you to get to know us and our books, and your comments have affirmed that. Diane and I always enjoy a good conversation, so we’re glad we could share this one with you.

Here’s our final portion of that conversation.

Diane: Meredith also asked a “non-character-specific” question I’ll turn over to you, Emilie: “How do you get started on a book?” Since you and I are nearly ready to start our next novels, that’s a good question!

Emilie: Story ideas come from the oddest places. A snippet of conversation. A glimpse of someone’s life. I’m particularly fond of creating books from titles–which is why I hate to have mine changed by my publishers. Once the glimmer of an idea presents itself, I let it simmer. Often two ideas collide at the same time and turn out to be meant for each other, even though it wasn’t love at first sight. Once I have enough to play with, I spend time considering possibilities, jotting them down into what I call my “Scenes and Revelations” file, in no particular order. Eventually that assumes the shape of an outline or a synopsis, and I’m in business.

Diane, do you work differently?

Diane: Emilie, I think I do work in a similar fashion, and what strikes home for me in what you said is “two ideas collide at the same time.” I love taking two diverse ideas and seeing what happens when I throw them together. My favorite example is The Escape Artist. I had two ideas: 1) a woman on the run with her little son, and 2) a woman buys a used computer and discovers information on it that must go to the police. When I turned those women into one woman–she’s on the run, so she can’t go to the police–I had a real story.

On my blog, Sheree asked us if we worry about a strong character from someone else’s story creeping into our own writing. What do you think?

Emilie: I do know writers who refuse to read fiction when they’re writing, for that very reason, but that means I wouldn’t be able to read at all. I do try to make sure I’m not reading similar material. For instance, I’ve never read any of Jennifer Chiavarini’s quilt series, simply because I don’t want to worry about inadvertently absorbing material or characters from her work to use in my own quilt series. 

I think we filter everything we write through our own experiences, so even if something about someone else’s character resonates for us and we find ourselves isolating that quality and playing with it, whatever we come up with is unique.

Same or different for you? And let’s finish with one more reader’s question, asked by Anne on your blog. When you’re writing one book, do you have your next book in mind, or do you wait until you have a finished project before thinking about your next?

Which you know, Diane.  Time’s always key, isn’t it?  But we can always make time for a chat like this one.

Diane and I both thank you for reading along with us.

Today the fun is definitely at Diane Chamberlain’s blog as Diane and I continue our conversation about “difficult” characters, choices we make as writers, and other writing topics.  Friday the conversation returns to my blog for (most likely) the final salvo.  So scoot over to Diane’s blog today for the newest scoop.

And don’t forget!  We’re giving away copies of Diane’s Summer’s Child and my Sunset Bridge.  So comment or ask a question to enter the random giveaway.

Enjoy.

Welcome to Sunday Poetry. If this is your first visit you can read about the purpose and inspiration of my Sunday poetry blogs here.

I first heard today’s poem, Monet Refuses the Operation by Lisel Mueller, decades ago and fell in love with it then.  What a pleasure to rediscover it this week while looking for poetry about regret, a theme in my latest novel, One Mountain Away.  This poem is delightful in so many ways, but one of them is Monet’s lack of regret.  You’ll understand when you read it.

In what ways do you see “differently” and would you change that if you could?  What does your unique vision add to this world of ours?  It’s a question worth consideration.

Remember, we read poetry together here for the pure pleasure of the experience. There are no quizzes, no right ways to read or contemplate the poem we share. Absolutely no dissecting allowed. Just come along for the “read.” What line, word or thought will you carry with you this week? If you’d like to tell us where the poem took you? We’ll listen.

Remember, too, there is a special giveaway in progress for those who comment on any Sunday Poetry blog before year’s end.  An autographed copy of Billy Collins’s Horoscopes for the Dead.  See the details here.

Diane Chamberlain, one of my best friends as well as one of my favorite authors, is joining me for a chat on our blogs. To celebrate my new book, One Mountain Away, we decided to have a conversation about characters—specifically characters who might not be all that sympathetic, at least not at first blush. We started our chat  on Diane’s blog and today we’ve moved it to mine.  Look for more at Diane’s on Monday.  I hope you’ll enjoy our give and take. If you have questions on the subject that you’d like us to address, ask away. We’ll be giving away copies of Sunset Bridge (mine) and Summer’s Child (Diane’s) to randomly selected commenters on each of our blogs. Good luck!

Diane: Have you ever created a character who was simply irredeemable, from start to finish?

Emilie: Absolutely. Several come to mind, sociopaths, all of them, which are nearly, by definition, irredeemable, at least as we understand the
pathology. But sociopaths aren’t much fun–even though they predominate in the thriller genre–because many people think they’re born not made, and what “makes” a character act badly also makes him/her sympathetic.

In One Mountain Away we see a pivotal moment in Charlotte’s childhood played out in a flashback very early in the story–by the way I sat in “that” church a long time ago and watched “that” preacher swat flies and wasps with his Bible. Anyway. . . background does make a difference. But I also think in the examples of Annie (Keeper of the Light) and Noelle (The Midwife’s Confession), you found another interesting way to deal with unsympathetic characters. First, neither WAS unsympathetic until more of their story was revealed, and by then we cared about who they were and were willing to forgive them almost anything.  In addition the books were filled with more sympathetic people who had been affected by them. Those are great examples of yet another way to bring the reader along with us as we explore flawed characters.

Now, in your own experience as a social worker, did you ever work with anybody who you knew would never change, no matter how much therapy he/she received? And does whatever you concluded show up in your novels? Did it affect your basic belief about good and evil, because your characters are always multi-dimensional, never completely good or bad, and I wonder if that’s a writer thing or a Diane thing?

Diane: What an interesting question, Emilie. Back when I was a therapist, we were trained to always be on the lookout for ”personality disorders”, those afflictions that were so ingrained in a person they would be impossible to change. As a young therapist, I fought the limitations of that diagnosis. As a more seasoned therapist, I came to accept them. Some people cannot change who they innately are, but they can develop ways of coping with the personality traits that make it hard for them to get by in the world. So while I believe there are some personality traits that can’t be changed, I believe they can be creatively dealt with in the hands of a good therapist.

As for good and evil, you’re right. I think most people are a mix. That said, I have thrown a couple of sociopaths into my books: Ray in The Good Father and the scheming psychiatrist in Breaking the Silence. They serve a purpose, but I don’t think they’re nearly as interesting to read about as someone who grapples with the good and bad inside himself. That’s what makes Charlotte such a rich character. Examples from my own books are Tim in The Secret Life of CeeCee Wilkes and Savannah in The Good Father.

On another note, you have a character, Harmony Stoddard, in One Mountain Away who elicits instant sympathy. Do you have any tricks of the trade to share for making the reader care so quickly for someone?

Emilie: First, I think the author has to “believe” a character is sympathetic to make one read that way. And what’s sympathetic for me might not be for someone else. But if we don’t find a struggle important and understandable, the reader definitely won’t, either. Harmony is homeless and pregnant, homeless through a situation she couldn’t control and pregnant, despite her best intentions not to be. I think almost any woman can place herself in Harmony’s life and know what that must feel like. And maybe that’s the key? That all of us, author and readers, must be able to put ourselves in a character’s shoes to feel compassion. If the character’s battles are too distant from our own realities, they’re harder to understand and care about. The novelist must be able to illustrate the ways our own struggles are like that character’s, even if in other ways the character is very different from us.

*****

Thanks for reading. . . Diane and I will be continuing our conversation on her blog on Monday. Be sure to watch for it there, and please leave a comment or ask a question for a chance to win our books.

 

Diane Chamberlain and I are having a conversation about writing, our books, how to make characters come alive, and lots more.  Diane began it today and you can find it right here.  Tune in at my blog on Friday for the second part.

Oh, there are books to give away, too.

See you there and here.

I’m in the final stages of Somewhere Between Luck and Trust, the second in my Goddesses Anonymous series.  Can those of you who’ve just read One Mountain Away guess the major character in this one?  She was introduced in the first book, and we’ve traveled another winding road to the end of this novel.  But the journey’s been a good one, except for one problem.

As I always do, once my first draft is finished, I read the entire manuscript out loud.  No matter how many times I do this, I am always surprised at the number of changes I need.  Awkward sentences.  Timelines to rework.  Repetition.  Stilted dialogue and more.  My ear catches all the problems my eyes glossed over so easily.  I can’t imagine turning in a book without this final step, no matter how tedious and never-ending it seems.

And tedious and never-ending describe it well.

The biggest problem I’ve had with Somewhere has been length.  I didn’t know my final word count until I put the whole book into one file.   And the news wasn’t good.  Even before I began to read, I realized I had to cut a large chunk of what I’d written to even get near the ballpark.  So for the past two weeks as I read, I trimmed.  One whole chapter went because it slowed the action.  Half of another chapter met the same fate.  Sentences fell like trees in a logger’s path.  But despite that, the book was still too long.  The word count inched down, but  not nearly far or fast enough.

Then yesterday, in the final third, a miracle occurred.  I discovered that at some point, as I was moving chapters into my final file, I had moved two of them twice.  Once they were removed my word count was almost where I needed it to be.  And I still have eight chapters to read and revise.  Who knows how many words will disappear by the time I’m done?

Someday I’ll learn to condense as I write.  Someday I’ll have fewer ideas and explore them with less detail.  Someday . . .  But for now, picture me at my computer reading each sentence out loud and weighing the content.  Then picture me dancing a jig on Wednesday when the manuscript finally takes flight for the next stage of its journey.

I will, too.  You can count on it.

Welcome to Sunday Poetry. If this is your first visit you can read about the purpose and inspiration of my Sunday poetry blogs here.

After putting up my book trailer on Friday I decided we needed a poem that was reminiscent of that mountain scenery.  I found Parker’s Mountain by Kate Knapp Johnson to share with you.  And what a lovely find it is.  Do you remember being poised on the brink of adolescence?  Breath held, cocooned in childhood?  Do you remember seeing the world through different eyes?

Remember, we read poetry together here for the pure pleasure of the experience. There are no quizzes, no right ways to read or contemplate the poem we share. Absolutely no dissecting allowed. Just come along for the “read.” What line, word or thought will you carry with you this week? If you’d like to tell us where the poem took you? We’ll listen.

Remember, too, there is a special giveaway in progress for those who comment on any Sunday Poetry blog before year’s end.  See the details here.