An Interview with Anna Solomon, Author of The Little Bride

“Minna continued pulling up grass in big fistfuls. . . . One day she would decide to learn the names of her torture and be disappointed when she found them nowhere near as precise as how she’d identified them then: Sharpest grass, shiniest grass, curly grass, hardest-to-pull grass. She pulled all of it up from the roots, giving in to the slices in her palms, watching the dry soil break into dust….” ~ From The Little Bride

 

When dreams turn to fantasy and take on a life of their own, and it becomes inevitable that they will fracture or crumble in the face of reality. Anna Solomon’s debut novel, The Little Bride, is the story of Minna Losk, a Jewish mail order bride on a journey to pursue her dream of life and freedom in America, which she assumes will include a handsome husband, a large house with running water, and servants of her own. What Minna discovers instead is the stark reality of life on a South Dakota homestead, marriage to a husband twice her age, and a forbidden attraction to the man who is her stepson.

Using subtle but rich details, Anna Solomon quietly introduces readers to each character in The Little Bride and takes us through the seasons of rugged South Dakota and through Minna’s self-discoveries. The characters are perfectly balanced, so that minutes after an unfortunate decision is made that casts a negative light, their stories still pull at the heartstrings of the reader. Today, I am honored to host Anna Solomon for an interview, where she discusses her novel and writing, and offers her best advice for others on the road to publication.

At the end of the interview, drop your name in the comment section for a chance to win a copy of The Little Bride. Random.org will choose the winner on Tuesday, January 3rd, at noon.

~

CC: In a post on Beyond the Margins, you talk about a musical-literary collaboration, with musician Clare Burson (called A Little Suite for The Little Bride) as an innovative way to introduce readers to your novel. Can you talk a bit about the structure of these performances and how readers have responded to them?

AS: That’s a great question, because until people have seen Clare and I perform together, it’s hard for them to picture exactly what we’re doing. Basically, Clare wrote five songs inspired by scenes from my book. On stage, she starts playing a musical score, then I come in reading one of those scenes over her score, then my reading ends and she plays/sings the song that was inspired by it. Sometimes we break one of my readings up with music – I stop mid-scene for a musical interlude and then begin again. And sometimes the music drops out and I read in silence for a little bit. But that’s the basic rhythm of the work.

And there are projected images, too: old drawings or maps that Clare played around with in Photoshop, thrown up on the wall behind us in black and white. The images are there to accompany the various sections, and provide context; often they have text, too, maybe a line from the book, just to set the scene and give the audience a footing in our story. We wanted to create a narrative arc through the piece, which is similar to the novel but also can exist on its own, for the purposes of these performances. I find that aspect very satisfying – that we’ve created something inspired by but separate from the novel. It kind of mirrors the experience of publication, when you see your book go off and become something different in each reader’s mind. Maybe the performance process helped prepared me for that letting go. In any case, I’m excited that we already have more performances of our “Little Suite for The Little Bride” scheduled for 2012!

CC: Some of my favorite scenes in your novel are the early interactions between Samuel and Minna, the simple dialogue and how Minna describes his gestures. When he finds her pulling grass, helps her, and then leaves, her recollection of his departure says so much with so little — about his character, and hers. What was your favorite scene to write, and why?

AS: I did like writing that scene – especially after he leaves, when she’s replaying it in her mind. (Did he mean to breathe on her, or did he just breathe, like people have to do?) Minna’s a tough character – a survivor – and scenes like that let me into her tenderness, her humor. It’s funny – at some point I thought that the same scene might take place when she’s trying to milk the cow, that Samuel would wind up behind her, showing her how to do it, but then I thought: gag! My favorite scene to write might be one that comes pretty late in the book. I won’t give away too much, but it also involves Samuel and Minna – they’re standing outside at dawn and though nothing very physically intimate happens between them, it’s probably the closest they come to a true emotional intimacy in the whole book, without the walls they usually have up. Also, it involves a circus and gunshots, so those parts made it fun to write, too.

CC: You recently started up a blog on your website. How do you like the blogging platform? And, do you find it offers more freedom in writing?

AS: Honestly, I’m not sure about blogging – for me. I held off for a long time (aren’t new blogs sort of passé at this point?) and now that I’m attempting to do it I feel a kind of pressure and I’m starting to think I’m not going to be able to fulfill my idea of what I want to do with it. I like the posts I’ve done, and writing them was fun, but especially as I dive deeply into my second novel, I feel like I only have so many things I can pay attention to. In some ways I think I’m just not cut out for multi-tasking in my writing, or for quick, off-the-cuff pieces. I enjoy them, and they do offer a different kind of freedom – there’s something nice about just pitching my voice into the soup and seeing where it goes – but I’m also not entirely comfortable with the process. I’ve found this with writing for online formats before: I’m not prepared to move so quickly. Editors get frustrated with me. I think I’m a slower thinker, a slower writer.

That said, I’m loving being part of the wonderful Beyond the Margins blog. That gives me a way to try my hand at blogging without having to be the sole proprietor, so to speak – and more importantly, it’s introduced me to this amazing, incredibly supportive group of writers, all at different stages in our careers, eager to offer other writers bits of our own experience.

 

So we’ll see. I’m going to stick with my blog for a while, see if I can make it fun for myself, and also experiment with different kinds of posts.

 

CC: What are you reading these days?

 

AS: I’m loving Amos Oz’s A TALE OF LOVE AND DARKNESS. Not crazy about the title – it’s so generic, I forget it every time I put the book down – but the book itself is wonderful: a memoir of Oz’s childhood in Jerusalem, and also of course the story of Israel itself. I’ve loved hearing Oz speak about conflict, war, and peace, and I find his book adds a complexity to those soundbytes – it’s very rich, very generous, and beautifully written, too. I’m also reading a totally different kind of book, a novel that came out last June, DAUGHTERS OF THE REVOLUTION by Carolyn Cooke. It’s about the first black girl (admitted by clerical error!) at an elite New England boarding school. But it’s about so much else, too – Cooke’s characters are totally real, often eccentric, always struggling to hang on to their individual selves even as they scramble to belong within “society” (theirs or others’). Her writing feels almost anthropological: look at these things, they’re called people, they create institutions like this, and they run around like that trying to get in or out.

 

CC: What advice do you have for writers on the rise?

 

AS: Stay focused on the work itself. I think the hardest thing about having my first book published was how obsessed I had to become – at least for a few months, while on tour – with my “career.” It’s so important, of course, I wanted to give my book the best chance possible, but it was also easy to lose track of the whole point: writing. When I was in an MFA program, just starting to publish short stories, I had this very rigid boundary for myself between writing and submitting stories – I would only deal with submissions at night, after my “real” work was done, and I wouldn’t think of it most of the time, I’d forget that the question of publication even existed. This gets tougher, of course, as you’re lucky to publish more, but I think it’s important to try to keep that boundary there. Now, as I start back in on my next novel, I’ll put up my wall again: in the morning, when I’m writing, there will be no phone calls, no internet, no criticism or praise to ingest, just me, my characters, my story. For me, this is the only way – I need rules, to bring my back to the work.


~

From Anna Solomon’s website:
Anna Solomon’s fiction has appeared in One Story, The Georgia Review, Harvard Review, The Missouri Review, Shenandoah, and elsewhere. Her stories have twice been awarded the Pushcart Prize, have won The Missouri Review Editor’s Prize, and have been nominated for a National Magazine Award.
For more information about Anna or for a chance to explore The Little Bride, visit her website. You can also follow her on Twitter or like her page on Facebook. Also, don’t forget to leave a comment to enter the book giveaway!

Recovering, Published, and a Flash Fiction Flashback

I’m coming off of a weekend sequestered at home because of a marathon run-in with a stomach bug. That virus is still lingering in corners, threatening to zap the last standing victim. In fact, it may have just tagged my son. And, I’m still recovering.

‘Tis the season.

At times like this, I appreciate the work of those around me, like my husband who kept the house running and the kids moving all day, while I stared out the window at the sun shining and cursed the virus. And like fellow authors of the Dead Shoe Society who ramped up big time over the last few days and pulled together story submissions to create a cool, new anthology, while I stared out the window at the sun shining and cursed the virus.

20111213-161346.jpgThe anthology is up and ready for your Kindle. You can read more about it and the stories within (including mine, “If It Wasn’t for Sylvia”) in this great post on Victoria Flynn’s blog, Penny Jars. Then, if the stories intrigue you, click on Amazon or on Smashwords to purchase your own copy. If you prefer books in hand rather than on screen, rumor is that paperback copies will be available in no time flat (those Dead Shoe Society folks work fast, like little elves).

The other thing I did during Stomach Bugapalooza was think back through my flash fiction archives for a piece apropos during this time of year, the giving season (if you don’t have the energy to write a post, you can always re-post a post). This piece, first published last year around this time, introduces you to a woman named Cecilia, who does what I wish I had been doing on Sunday…while I stared out the window at the sun shining and cursed the virus.

Hope you’re all staying healthy, finding great new books to read, and keeping up with your lists!

~

Celia Loves

Paper Flowers for the HolidaysCelia only had three things left on her list of Christmas gifts: a book on wolves for her nephew, Dylan, wild animal that he was; a cookbook for her sister, Mary, Paula Deen’s latest convert; and a gift card for her brother, Jim, who never latched on to anything, not even a wife.

In the bookstore, she wandered past the Bestsellers and paused at the New Fiction. She thumbed through calendars and flipped through books filled with quotes. She was drawn to the display of journals and pens, unable to resist the feel of fine paper between her fingers and the weight of a good pen.

She eyed a travel journal; but she had no where to go. She picked up a nondescript diary with a brown leather cover, smooth and tempting: a classic. She considered a package of fountain pens; the things she would write.

Carol of the Bells rang out from the store lobby and pulled her attention toward a group of young adults. Dressed in Christmas Story costumes, they had stationed themselves near the front doors and begun a chorus of holiday cheer. A young man singing tenor looked a lot like her nephew might in a few years.

Dylan. She turned back to her list.

From the shelves of the Young Adult section, she grabbed an old classic, Wolfling. In the cookbook section, she reached for Paula Deen’s It Ain’t All About the Cookin’. Celia agreed with that title, knowing that behind every recipe is a good story. Then, Celia went back and picked up a small book of quotes she’d been reading before. She paid for the books, a gift card, and a package of pens for herself. Then, she sat down in her car and wrote inside each book’s cover.

To Dylan. Dear Lover of wolves, You’ll find plenty of facts about habitats and behavior in other books, but the real learning is hidden in stories. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow said it best: “The love of learning, the sequestered nooks, and all the sweet serenity of books.”

To Mary. Miguel de Cervantes in Don Quixote said “All sorrows are less with bread” – or, if you’re Paula Deen, a red velvet cake. Let’s bake one together. I miss you.

To Jim. You’re a man of mystery, impossible to buy for, and you work too much. Annie Dillard offers wise advice: “Spend the afternoon. You can’t take it with you.” I love you.

Celia put the cap on her new pen and slipped it inside her purse. She started her car and turned up the heat, though she was already warm.

*photo credit: PermaCultured on Flickr.com

Writing Lessons & Pinky MacOinkus: Guest Post by Jan O’Hara

I met Jan O’Hara somewhere along the cyber highway. The when or where doesn’t matter so much as the fact that I liked her immediately. Maybe it’s her red hair or that sassy attitude or the fact that she loves Colin Firth as much (if not more) than me. Any fan of Colin is a friend of mine. I’m thrilled to host Jan today; she offers us great insight into writing and leaves us with a link to a virtual hug any time we want one. Welcome, Jan!

How Introvertus Interruptus Taught Me
Four Simple Writing Lessons

As a self-identified introvert, who generally becomes re-energized in solitude, imagine how surprised I was to find myself rocking a people-filled errand day this past summer.

It didn’t seem to matter where I went, either. Whether I was in the coffee shop, the grocery store, the bottle depot, the library, people were uniformly warm and receptive to my jokes. “Wow,” I remember thinking. “This could be addicting.” For a brief time it almost seemed possible to have a hive-free social life.

Then I caught a woman eyeing my chest.

Now, peeps, you don’t know me, but trust me when I say she wasn’t flirting with me or evaluating me as a sexual competitor. Nor was she a reality show makeover artist who’d found her next hapless victim client. Rather, she was my educator, for as her gaze scanned my boobage and a smile bloomed on her lips, I finally understood what had triggered that morning’s success:

  1. When I’d straggled out of bed and, in an unthinking moment, thrown on my husband’s pumpkin-orange t-shirt – the one with the caption My Mama Thinks I’m Special – I began to project a certain personality.
  2. Presumably thinking I was informal, approachable, and had a healthy sense of humor, strangers engaged me at an atypical level.
  3. We began a positive feedback loop in which pleasant conversation led to more of the same.
  4. The change was so profound I rethought my self-imposed label of “socially awkward.”

Why am I telling you this, and what bearing does this have on the world of writing? Well, I took a few lessons from that experience:

1. When working with people, it’s hard to go wrong if you operate from a place of self-deprecating humor. This is true whether you’re crafting blog posts, tweets, a Facebook status, or simply putting butt in chair to write fiction. People are eager to laugh and connect.

2. If the writing is going well, huzzah! Carry on. But if it isn’t and you’re trying desperately to recreate whatever worked three months or three years ago because that is the way you write best, dang it!, reconsider. Quite simply, we aren’t always the best judge of why things go well or go poorly. All we can do is experiment in a spirit of hope and tenacity until we find the combo that works for right now.

3. Be mindful of the stories you tell yourself about your struggles as a writer, because to some degree, we get what we expect. Optimists label setbacks as temporary, external, and specific to particular circumstances. So for instance, it’s healthier to say, “I haven’t mastered the art of scene transition yet,” than to say, “I suck as a writer.” (And it’s healthier to say “I tend to be an introvert” rather than “I’m a socially-awkward hermit.”)

4. Take the time to view your writing environment with fresh eyes. What does it tell the world about the importance writing plays in your life? What does it tell you? Within the resources available to you right now, are you making it as easy as possible to slip into a productive writing mode?

For instance, I work better without clutter. If my office gets away from me and I don’t have time to tidy it, I’ll head to the coffee shop or library to write, then come back to establish order.

I also work better when I don’t take myself too seriously, so I’ve tried to extrapolate that Forrest-Gump-shirt ethos to my office, using free or reasonably-priced props that require little maintenance. Once set up, they act on a subliminal level to relax me and buoy my spirits.

This is why my office walls feature Betty Boop tin art and I’ve been known to wear Mr. Bean t-shirts. My mechanical timer, which I use to motivate myself for less-pleasant tasks, is a pig named Pinky MacOinkus.

On days where I’m feeling a touch of loneliness, I switch Pinky out for a timer my brother made specifically for me. The latter displays a customized picture and sound, so every time I use it, it’s almost like getting a hug. (If you have a PC and would like to try it, you are welcome to download the TartAlarm with this link).

What about you folks? Are you an introvert who’s discovered untapped depths of extroversion? Have you worked to change your internal dialogue about your writerly struggles? If you could make one modest improvement to your writing space, what would it be? Conversely, what feature of your office brings you the most pleasure?

Jan O’Hara left her writing dreams behind for years to practice family medicine, but has found her way back to the world of fiction. Currently the voice of the Unpublished Writer on Writer Unboxed, she’s hard at work on her contemporary romances, hoping one day soon to become unqualified for the position. She lives in Alberta, Canada with her husband and two children, and welcomes visitors to her citrus-infused blog, Tartitude. You can also find her on Twitter and Facebook.