Reprint: Guest Blog Post with Author Lisa Bilbrey

Yes, I am recycling again. I'll knock it off soon, I swear.

In the meantime, this is a guest post that was originally put up on March 18, 2012. My other posts have dealt with my already-published work My Apple Tree, but this one deals with my upcoming historical novel, The Truth Seekers. Release of this novel was delayed because I just didn't feel like it was ready yet, so I am looking forward to seeing what kind of reception it gets now that it's been overhauled and revised within an inch of its life. Take a peek and see what you think, and while you're at it, check out Lisa's blog!

The Story behind the Truth Seekers

[This year,] my novel The Truth Seekers will be released by Renaissance Romance Publishing, and I couldn’t be prouder. Or more completely freaked out.

It’s a little nerve-wracking to let other people read this book, partially because it marks the first time my work is being read by anyone who doesn’t feel some sort of social pressure to be nice to me, and partially because of the kind of novel this is. I am a writer of snark, a speaker of snark, a blogger of snark… as a general rule, just very snarky. And yet, here I am, cranking out a debut novel that is not only snark-free, but also quite serious. As anyone can tell you, our serious, deep emotions are the ones we keep hidden from the rest of the world, lest our poor little hearts are broken by mockery and malice. It takes a special kind of bravery to put those kinds of feelings on display, particularly in front of strangers, as any man who has proposed in public can tell you. You suspect that you look completely barmy, but you don’t want to draw attention to it in case no one else has noticed yet. At any rate, publishing this particular novel feels somewhat like a group of strangers just caught me singing “Dancing Queen” in front of my mirror into my hairbrush/microphone. Not that I’ve ever done that.

So why write it in the first place? It all started with some words: words that would not get out of my head. They rolled around and around in my brain like the prose was full-on stalking me. At last, desperate to get my own brain back, I sat down at the computer and started to type what I “heard” in my head. It began, "I may miss you, but I will not canonize you. You were a sinner, your soul was a fire, and I backed away to save myself even as my eyes were snared by the wild beauty of your burning.”

It turned out to be a letter from a heartbroken woman to a man she desperately loved. It was elaborate, it was elegant, and it was passionate. And yet I had absolutely no clue what the back-story behind it was. Who was this woman? To whom was she writing? What had happened to separate them? No answers appeared to be forthcoming, so I closed the document and turned my attention to other things, just chalking it up as one of those weird writing phenomenon that make the rational world convinced that all novelists are slightly mad.

Then the next night it happened again, only this time, it was the gentleman’s response that was bouncing around in my brain. Surrendering to the inevitable, I pulled up the document and more or less took dictation from my imagination. It flowed onto the page almost effortlessly, but when he’d said his piece, the tap shut off abruptly. I still had no idea what their story was, only this time I was really eager to find out.

All this happened not too long before November, which is a significant month to novelists the world over. For the uninitiated, November is National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo. A wonderful non-profit organization called The Office of Letters and Light organizes a month-long novel writing challenge: write 50,000 words in thirty days. There’s no real prize for “winning;” you just get the ego boost of knowing you crossed the finish line. Not everyone does. I had never attempted NaNo before, but I decided to take my two letters with no story and build a novel around them.  

I won the challenge that year by the skin of my teeth. The nature of the NaNo beast is that you are so focused on your word count that you are forced to ignore your inner editor entirely if you want to have any hope of victory. There simply isn’t time to second-guess yourself, so you find yourself tossing everything but the kitchen sink into your book. You write down every random, crazy idea that pops into your head because, even though you may have to edit it out down the road, right now it’s another five hundred words that you didn’t have before. Because of this “anything goes” feeling, I postponed reviewing the manuscript for several months after NaNo ended – I was attempting to psych myself up to face the catastrophic mess I just knew I’d made.

Imagine my shock when I finally read it and found I actually liked it. Oh, it wasn’t publication-ready by a long shot, but it had a beginning, a middle, and an end, and they all happened in the correct order. There were only a few continuity howlers instead of the great hairy beasts lurking behind every corner that I had expected to find. Eventually, the lovely people at Renaissance Romance Publishing got a look at it and threatened to cut off my caffeine supply if I didn’t let them publish it, and the rest is history. Or it will be, once I finish the final edits.

The story itself is a product of a place from which I have pulled quite a lot of inspiration over the years: Chautauqua Institution in New York State. Chautauqua has served as a hub of creativity, philosophy, art, religion, music, and dance for over two hundred years, and I can’t imagine anyone with a soul not responding to it on some level. My parents began taking me there for a week each summer when I was a little girl. I swam in Lake Chautauqua in my Wonder Woman bathing suit. I met my pen-pal there. I took a puppet-making class. I saw the Temptations perform live. I walked across a miniaturized version of the Holy Land. It was wonderful.

And it was there that I had one of those Life Moments that you remember forever. Madeleine L’Engle, author of the astoundingly wonderful Wrinkle in Time trilogy and many other equally amazing books, came one year as a guest lecturer. It was there in the Amphitheater that she gave me the first advice on writing I ever received. I met her afterwards and was completely seduced by her charm and wit. This encounter marked a huge shift in my life; I stopped mucking around with little snippets about rock stars and really started to focus on writing an actual book. Madeleine L’Engle essentially had shown me what I wanted to be when I grew up, and I think the experience fundamentally changed my hard-wiring for life.

When it came time for me to create a novel about two passionate, star-crossed lovers from the past, it was almost ridiculously easy to place them in this wonderful world. Since the buildings are protected and maintained zealously, it takes no effort to imagine that you’ve been transported back to 1900. It was walking in the Hall of Philosophy where my protagonists first meet that I found the title for the novel. Along the floor are a series of mosaics, one for each “class” year. The mosaic for the Class of 1896 was titled “The Truth Seekers,” and this struck me as a perfect description of my young lovers.

Many of the other locations mentioned are actual places in Chautauqua, like the hotel across the street from my hero’s lodgings. The real St. Elmo Hotel (demolished in the late 1980s and rebuilt as condominiums) was also the inspiration for the screenplay for St. Elmo’s Fire, which was written by a lovesick bellboy one summer. The governor’s mansion is based on the Packard Manor, and even the assorted benches and paths have real life equivalents.

Of course, I was not in the same position once my hero absconded to Italy. However, thanks to my art history studies (I was something of a Renaissance junkie in college) and the terrifyingly heavy textbooks I’d held onto, I was able to at least send my imagination on the journey while a crew of men tore off and replaced the roof on my house. I’d love to travel to Florence, but I’m far keener on keeping my home in one piece. For the time being, I’m content to just live vicariously through my imaginary friends.

This is a novel I didn’t see coming, but it is also one that ties into many different important areas of my life. Because of this, it is intensely personal on many levels – as is all good fiction, I think. My characters were certainly insistent that this story be told, and I hope that Geoffrey and Miranda capture my readers’ hearts and imaginations as much as they’ve captured mine.

Check out the original post here:

Lisa Bilbrey Blog - March 18, 2012 Guest Post 

The Writer's What-If

Sometimes I think I’m more interested in the hypothetical than in reality.

Case in point: when I was a child, I went through a phase during which I mowed through reams of grid paper, drawing up blueprint after blueprint. I can still vaguely recollect designing an elaborate building intended to be a residential summer camp for children. There was also a fantastic artist’s loft, a multi-storey mansion complete with secret passages, and a weirdly pragmatic office building. I loved creating the designs, but I never felt the urge to bring them to life. The dream of a career in architecture or interior design did not grip me. I just enjoyed looking at how spaces might work and ruminating on how people would exist – together or individually – in the environments I’d thought up.

When I was very young, I also did something that I am told is painfully common in girls: I dreamed up designs for wedding dresses. Of course, I grew up and got one of my own (it was lovely), but I found that my manic single-minded attention to the planning of this event in my life was motivated by a strange sense of obligation rather than any true interest on my part. When I get stressed out, I tend to deliver monologues to any unfortunate person who makes the mistake of asking me how I am. In retrospect, I believe that it was this quirk that was responsible for most of my Bridezilla moments.

Whether that’s true or not, one thing is certain: when I now read a romance that culminates in a wedding, I am profoundly uninterested in the event itself. I wonder if, perhaps, my husband and I had slipped off to the Justice of the Peace instead and kept the idea of a traditional wedding lodged in my head as a purely hypothetical experience, would I still be interested in reading fictional versions? All I can say is that I was not always so uninterested in depictions of the “big day” as I am now.

So I’m sitting here pondering this (hypothetical) insight into myself, and it occurs to me that this may explain my choice in professions. As a novelist, I can create environments, worlds, people, families, scenarios, employment situations, friendships – whatever I like, without any commitment. I can roll around in an ocean of What-Ifs to my heart’s content. And when I’m done playing in one sandbox, I can walk away and go create another.

Consider the phenomenon that is fiction writing. Generally, the process begins with a What-If that has niggled its way into the author’s brain like a badger. What if there was a door to another world in the back of a wardrobe? What if a boy discovered he was really a wizard? What if a governess fell in love with her employer, only to discover his mad wife was locked in the attic? What if there was a chocolate factory that really was as magical inside as any child could possibly imagine it?

Once the question has been asked, the author begins construction. This part of the process can take many forms. Some writers prefer outlines and character sketches and copious background research. Others prefer starting at the beginning and then stopping once they’ve reached the end. Some even start in the middle and work in bits and bobs until the whole is gradually fused together. It doesn’t matter much how this step is accomplished, since the end product is the same.

There are buildings and towns and planets that didn’t exist before. There are people with families, friends, loves, hates, pets, and pet peeves who have been hypothesized into existence. A world is created, designed, populated, and observed – and then the novelist presents his or her grand What-If, complete with all the trappings of a fully indulged imagination, to the reader.

I wonder if this means that the novelist by definition must then be the sort of person who cannot commit to one particular lifetime – the sort of person who feels compelled to try out all the possibilities without ever settling down to one path. Instead of living these possibilities, bouncing around their real lives aimlessly until they are introducing themselves at parties as magician-physicist-pilot-archeologists and living in their mothers’ basements, they can allow these wild conjectures to come to life through their writing alone. So many authors have day jobs – I suspect that coworkers might be surprised to learn that quiet, helpful Mary in Accounting goes home and writes BDSM vampire novels in her free time, or that George in Shipping has a healthy fan base for his epic sci-fi alien war games series.

Would Stephen King actually like to live one of his novels? Doubtful. He strikes me as the sort of rational person who appreciates the merits of not being slashed to ribbons. He is simply indulging, developing, and sharing his What-Ifs with the rest of the world. The reality is not necessary (thank goodness).

Perhaps fiction writers are gypsies in a world of possibilities and What-Ifs. Novelists must have talent, determination, and passion for their work in order to successfully bring those possibilities to life through pen and paper.

The most critical element by far is that they must enjoy the journey.

Fifteen

This post has absolutely nothing to do with writing.

My oldest son turned fifteen today. Not entirely sure how that happened. I just took him to his first day of kindergarten last week, I swear. Despite the obvious fast-forwarding problem that my life seems to be having, I wanted to stop and think about this new development. In one year, he’ll be able to drive. In three years, he’ll be able to vote. We’ve already started discussing universities. I am in no way prepared for these milestones, but that’s not important. What I really need to worry about is whether he’s ready.

Never having been a teenage boy, I’m not sure what words of wisdom he needs most now to guide him. So far, my advice to him has consisted of 1) personal hygiene is critical, 2) all teenage girls are insane, and 3) if he blows off school, it’s his own future that he’s screwing up, not mine. I am well aware that I am lucky he’s such a good kid. He attempts to be a good big brother. He doesn’t really mouth off much. He’s naturally brilliant. He has never shown a lot of concern over whether he is accepted by his peers. He helps out around the house with minimal resistance. He’s kind to animals. Most shocking of all, he still talks to me about his ideas and feelings and problems and aspirations. He still wants my approval.

Since he’s on the autism spectrum, the special considerations that brings up for him tend to eclipse a lot of other typical teenage issues. We’ve been hyper-focused on helping him adjust to what society expects of him since he was three years old. Emotions had to be explained to him like a foreign language. This may be why we’re still able to communicate. I spent so many years learning his language – learning which words to use to reach him – that I still understand a lot of the unspoken information that comes with his questions and stories about his day. Or maybe he still talks to me just because I’m listening.

So much of what I said to adults during my teen years was ignored – just because I was a teenager. I think that this is a profound mistake to make as a parent or educator. If no one listens to you, what does that do to your self-esteem? What motivation to succeed, to learn, to grow can you find if the world around you gives you the clear message that nothing you say is of value? Even teenagers are capable of insight, compassion, innovation, and excellence. When I tell my son that I see that potential within him, I can see his own belief in himself grow before my eyes.

So what words of wisdom can I give my son now that he’s hovering on the verge of adulthood? What lessons have I taught him?

He’s seen me choose my children’s well-being over financial success, so he knows that he’s more important to me than money and he knows what it means as a child to be that important to a parent. Not a bad lesson.

He knows that being true to himself is more important than trying to live up to other people’s expectations. I told him that he can become a Wal-mart greeter if he likes, but only if it’s what he really wants. I push him, but it’s always in a direction that meshes with his own aspirations. He understands that he needs to work hard for the things that are important to him and that he is the only person who can say what those things should be.

He knows that he’s going to make mistakes and that we’ll love him anyway.

He understands that the qualities that make him different do not make him “wrong.” Those differences make him unique, and he can use them to help make the world a better place. He’s had to become both self-aware and self-accepting, and those are two attributes that can only serve to help him through the tumultuous teen years.

I’m ridiculously proud of him.

I don’t think there are any magic words that will ensure that his transition to adulthood is a smooth one. I know he’ll encounter pain and heartache and frustration and self-doubt. I know he’ll do incredibly stupid things that I may not ever find out about. I have to trust that we’ve given him the best tools we could as his parents, and I have to let him walk his own path. Perhaps the most important thing I can give him is my willingness to listen and my belief that he can overcome any challenge that confronts him along the way.

No matter what, I don’t think there are any words of wisdom that will help me be ready to let go of my little boy. All I can do is not make a fuss about it in front of his friends.

I may let him start dating in… oh… twenty more years?

Reprint: Q&A with Laura Braley

It's time for more recycling! I promise to start blogging properly again very soon. This is an interview that was originally posted on September 23, 2012, on fellow author Laura Braley's blog in support of my release of "My Apple Tree." The interview was especially fun since the questions came from Laura's daughter McKenzie and she asked some really great questions. I'm providing the link to the original posting below; I encourage you to check out her blog!

How do you get your mindset to write a young adult theme?

I didn’t really set out to write a YA story originally. My initial idea did deal with a young boy and girl, but it followed them into adulthood. I revised and expanded the story quite a bit, and in the end, it seemed to fit into the YA category. I think that if I had an idea for another story or book that was YA, it wouldn’t be hard to get into that mindset. You’d be surprised by how many adults vividly remember what it’s like to be a teenager. It’s a tough period in life, and the memories of the feelings and thoughts you had tend to stick with you, no matter how much you grow and change.

How are you able to get a good plot without over explaining?

One tip they give often in writing style guides and writing workshops is “Show, Don’t Tell.” It’s a delicate balance. You have to give the reader enough background to understand the events in the story, but it’s better to let the characters reveal things through their actions, their facial expressions, and their interactions with each other. When you’re hanging out with your friends, one might tell you a story about something that happened, but you’re going to be able to visualize what she’s describing by the words she uses, her body language, and even the pitch of her voice. You can tell before she says it that she was angry or embarrassed or excited from those clues. Writing works the same way – if the writer shows the reader what the characters are feeling, it allows the reader to be right there in the moment with the characters. That makes the entire reading experience and the reader’s understanding of the plot much more dynamic and exciting.

How much time do you put into an average story?

Months and months and months. I can write a first draft pretty quickly in maybe a month or two, but shaping and honing and polishing and reworking it takes a lot longer. I usually will put a manuscript away for awhile and work on other things so that I can come back to it with a fresh perspective. Sometimes years pass before I will consider a piece really finished.

When and why did you start writing?

I’ve always written stories as long as I can remember. Even if I don’t actually write them down, I get ideas everywhere I go – whole characters and scenes will just pop into my head as I go about my business throughout the day. I think most writers have that experience, and we start writing the stories down just to get them out of our heads!

Has there ever been a time when you couldn’t think of any ideas?

Not really – I have tons of ideas all the time, but they’re not always “complete.” I might have an idea for a scene but not the full story around it, and that’s when I get stumped and have to wrack my brain for more ideas that are specifically for that particular set of characters in that particular situation. That’s the situation in which I will really find myself stuck until a solution occurs to me.

How hard is it to keep your writing from interfering with your personal life?

I think usually my personal life interferes with my writing – and I don’t mean that in a negative way. Most writers would love to just write all the time. It is personal relationships and housework and bills and families and errands that pull us away from our computers or notebooks and force us to be in the real world. That’s not a bad thing. I love my husband and kids and friends, so I’m not sorry to have to spend time with them. Also, writers need to interact with the real world and real people, otherwise we wouldn’t understand real life enough to write about it. My family and my responsibilities to them will always be the most important thing, so it’s not hard to put them first (unless I’ve got a REALLY good idea!). Writing’s like any other job; you’ve got to get the work done to make a living. Going to work physically takes you away from your family if you have a “traditional” kind of career – the only difference is that as a writer I’m still home while I’m working.

Do you tend to use your kids/friends’ names in your stories?

Rarely. I will use names that I associate with certain types of people, but I tend to stay away from namesakes. It’s tough for me to imagine writing a love story in which the male lead is named after my son, for example. Especially since I’m not going to let him date until he’s at least thirty-five. I’m much more likely to base characters’ personality traits on people I know; depending on what those traits are, I may or may not actually tell the person about it. Very close friends might recognize the inspiration behind a scene or a character, but I do try not to make it obvious.

How do you stay committed to your writing?

I’m very fortunate to have a career that I love. Writing is something that’s in my blood, and I enjoy it tremendously. It’s challenging and a lot of work and often heartbreaking, but it is a part of who I am. Even when it looks like I’m just staring out into space, I’m working on my writing. It’s easy to stay committed to something that you love, that brings you joy, and that helps you be the best version of yourself possible. For as much effort as I put into it, it gives back so much to me in return. I can’t imagine doing anything else.

See the original post here:

Laura Braley: A Little Q&A with Elizabeth M. Lawrence

Reprint: Breath of Life Guest Post

Here's another "reissued" guest blog post while I'm tied up with editing for the month of December. This particular entry was originally posted on September 18, 2012, on the Breath of Life blog in support of my then-upcoming release of "My Apple Tree." I was very appreciative of the opportunity and am grateful to Rev. Kim Justice over at Breath of Life for hosting me. I'm providing the link to the original posting below; I encourage you to check out her blog!

 

Behind the Scenes of My Apple Tree by Elizabeth M. Lawrence

When I was a little girl, my parents had season tickets to the opera, and I went with them. I had become fascinated with opera when I was only about four years old and I saw Verdi’s La Traviata on television. Beverly Sills sang the part of Violetta, and I was completely captivated. I was even permitted to stay up past my bedtime to watch the end. My parents were delighted at my interest and encouraged it, which is how I wound up with my own regular seat for the season.

When I was older, I began to complain about how every opera ends in a death (usually the female lead). I never figured out why, other than that as human beings our response to death is much more multi-faceted than any other emotional experience. We weep, we rage, we laugh, we go numb. Every person in the world understands the depths of grief and loss, whether it is a person, a relationship, or a phase of one’s life. Death is always with us; that is why you can see every tragic play, listen to every opera, watch every heartbreaking film, and read every gut-wrenching book, and your reaction will not fade in intensity. I have seen horrible things in my life, but I will always cry over Violetta. 

Autumn is harvest time, which is obviously the inspiration for the title of Renaissance Romance Publishing’s seasonal collection. It is a complex time of year because we experience both the bounty of the harvest and also the death of the world around us as it prepares for winter. Halloween or Samhain is a perfect example of this. We celebrate, we dress up, we come together as a community, whether to be scared, entertained, or for religious observance. It is a fun night, but behind the decorations and laughter is the specter of Death. The holiday typifies the autumn season.

My Apple Tree is the story of David Cleary and Emily “Mel” Wallace. Both are attempting to cope with lives that have been ripped apart by violence. David is struggling with the loss of his childhood sweetheart Katie when he first encounters Mel. He has been haunted by the belief that he failed Katie, and he wants to make up for his past shortcomings by saving Mel. What first motivates him is guilt, but he comes to find that in order to protect Mel, he must learn to let Katie go. Ultimately, David’s emotional journey is meant to give the reader the understanding that as long as we remember, nothing we love is ever really gone.

Here is an excerpt:

His first thought, when the haze of desire had lifted and they lay out of breath and exhausted, was to wonder what the hell was going on between them. They both were trying to recover from their past experiences with love, and neither wanted a new relationship. So why the hell were they unable to keep their hands off each other?

When David managed to drag himself away from her and they had both gotten dressed, Mel followed him out to his car. He paused before opening the door to brush his fingertips along the curve of her cheek with a smile. She took a deep breath as if she was summoning her courage and spoke. “David, we can’t see each other again.”

His brow furrowed, and he began to protest. “But . . .”

She shook her head. “It’s no use. I don’t know what it is between us, but we can’t seem to be able to be in the same room together without this happening. I just can’t do this. I’m too afraid that I’ll wind up falling for you.”

He winced. “Don’t fall for me, Emily. I’m not worth it.”

She just gave a helpless shrug, the wounded expression in her eyes sending a stab of guilt through him. They stood awkwardly facing each other, both uncomfortable and thinking things that they lacked the courage to say. At last, taking a deep breath, Mel spoke.

“Good-bye, David.”

When Renaissance Romance Publishing first discussed the inclusion of one of my stories in this collection with me, I decided that My Apple Tree would be the most appropriate for the season. Like Halloween and harvest and all the rest, this story revolves around the theme of growth and change and death. It is not meant to be a sad story. Instead, it shows a young man learning to honor the memory of the woman he has lost by loving the woman he has found. There is always loss and grief in our lives; David’s story walks us through the heartbreak and into a new understanding that the blessings we are given are no less wonderful for being temporary. I hope readers enjoy going on the journey with him!

Breath of Life Guest Post 9/18/12