Posted on

Stories that Stick

I know I’ve read a great story when, as I come to The End and close the cover, I can’t let go. The characters take root in my mind, and memories of them, like those of an old friend, surface some time later.

I experienced a moment like that, recollecting characters from a story I’d finished months ago, as I read through a new book with my daughter recently.

Yona Zeldis McDonough wrote a children’s book, Louisa: The Life of Louisa May Alcott, a brief biography, which highlights important events that molded Alcott into a woman devoted to her writing, as well as to her family. All of the facts are there, but as I read through the book, I kept searching for more.

What about that magical time in 1855, I wondered, when the Alcotts spent the summer in Walpole, New Hampshire? I flipped through the pages hoping to find mention of a man named Joseph Singer or to read about a silver comb lost, then found and treasured.

But, those details aren’t mentioned in this biography by McDonough. They do, however, come together in a different story, in Kelly O’Connor McNees’ beautiful historical fiction, The Lost Summer of Louisa May Alcott. In The Lost Summer, McNees weaves an imagined but believable tale about a love between Alcott and a man named Singer, an attraction that was difficult to turn away from, difficult for the main characters and for the readers. McNees’s novel is well written and memorable, and that’s the story that stuck out in my mind as I read to my daughter.

The Lost Summer of Louisa May Alcott was released in April 2010, and the paperback edition hits the shelves this May.

The new cover of the paperback (with its vivid colors and that dress!) makes me want to buy the book all over again. A quote from the Washington post reminds me why this book is one I’ll read it again:

The Lost Summer is the kind of romantic tale to which Alcott herself was partial, one in which love is important but not a solution to life’s difficulties.

I had the honor of interviewing Kelly back in August about her novel and about writing. You can read the interview here. You can also visit Kelly O’Connor McNees’ website for details on upcoming events related to her paperback release and check out her blog for news and for interviews with  other great authors.

Better yet, you can pre-order her paperback on Amazon or on Indiebound.org.

What about you? What stories stick in your mind, with characters who stay with you long after the cover is closed?

Posted on

Oiling the Hinges: Writing on Wednesday’s Word

At almost 100 years old, our Grandfather clock stands with authority in our living room. Its inner workings are simple, but delicate, and when I don’t pay attention – when I let the weights wind their way to the bottom – the gears stick. Only a silent prayer and a gentle nudge of the minute hand will break an invisible seal and get the clock ticking again.

Caring for that clock requires the same diligence as nurturing all aspects of my writing. If I ignore one area of writing for too long, it grows stagnant, it stalls, and it takes muscle to get that part of my creativity flowing again.

Recently, I had a chance to crank out a flash fiction piece for Pam Parker for a Flash Friday post. She emailed me and two other writers a prompt and asked that we turn it into a 100 word flash in a few days (you can read the pieces here). Writing 100 words was not an easy task, and it was a reminder that I can’t ignore that side of myself that loves creating something new. Rewriting and editing are great (dare I say fun?….nah. Great, but not fun). But my muse gets bored helping me whittle down the same old short story. She wants shiny, new, get-the-blood-pumping kind of work. So, I’m dipping back into Wednesday’s Word today, basically so my muse won’t leave me high and dry when I return to those rewrites.

Today’s word from Wordsmith.org:

volte-face. noun. A reversal in policy or opinion; an about face

*****

Fickle

Lately, Nick predicted his wife’s moods with the same success rate as the new guy on Channel 9 when he predicted the weather: nine times out of ten he was wrong. When the forecast called for sun, Nick was pelted with insults like hail. If Nick braced himself for frigid temps, he came home to a barrage of affection. He began to wonder if there wasn’t something in the water. Or, maybe it was all that Sweet and Sour Chicken his wife had been eating for the last week. The sauce had an unnatural color, that was for sure, and maybe housed some other infecting quality.

He watched her scarf down another take-out order for the eighth day in a row. He shook his head.

“What?” she asked, as she licked each finger clean.

“Nothing,” he said. “It’s just –”

“Hold that thought.” She pointed her index finger at him in a way that made him jump, then she ran to the bathroom. He considered retreating upstairs, to wait out whatever might be brewing. But, when she came out of the bathroom, she looked flushed and giddy.

She pulled him out of his seat and squeezed both his hands.

“I’m pregnant!” She beamed.

He rolled his eyes. “Thank God,” he said. “I thought you were going crazy.”

She squinted, then she slapped him, and then she drenched him in kisses.

Posted on

The Two O’Clock Shadow

Something strange happens every day around two o’clock in the afternoon. An unseen hand brushes over my eyelids, and they grow heavy. The space around me settles into quiet, muffled sounds. My breathing runs shallow. I hear a whisper, “Ten minutes. All you need is ten,” and, boom, I’m out.

The Napping Monster strikes again.

Like the silly old grandma in Audrey Wood’s classic children’s book, I’m so exhausted that I could be buried under heavy objects and still be completely unaware.

Surely I am not alone. Writers fall into two camps, the early bird or the late night owl. And, no matter in which camp you rest, the same question applies: how much sleep (or how little) are you really getting?

At The National Sleep Foundation website, there’s an article that talks about how much sleep we need. It mentions basal sleep and sleep debt and some crazy thing called circadian dips (aka. naptime). There are consequences for too little sleep and fallout after too much sleep, and all I can think of is Goldie Locks and her determined search for all things “just right.”

And, while I don’t spend too much time on the numbers and science of it all, I know that when I settle myself into bed at a reasonable hour and get a full eight hours of sleep, I wake up late the next morning, ragged and hung over.

Let me stay up until the late hours, though, and don’t bug me during those wee ten minutes, and I’m good to go.

What about you? Are you an early bird? A late-night owl? A napper under wraps? What’s your ideal sleep?

[tweetmeme]