Congratulations grads (and especially Dan!)

I was in California this weekend for my younger brother's graduations. I can't call him my "little" brother even though he's 7 years my junior because ever since he grew past 6 feet (and me not quite making it to 5 1/2) it comes out as a too ironic. So, "younger" brother it is.

(That's him and his wife, Molly, one of my favorite people in the whole world.)

I haven't spent much time on the Stanford campus, but from everything I saw it's simply delightful, a true playground for intellectual stimulation and big dreams. A lot of big dreams (and visionary dreamers) got their start at Stanford and there's this bit of magic in the air that seems to whisper in your ear: anything is possible. Some places are like that.

So to Dan, and the rest of the graduates coming out of their dream-like studies and into the hard world that doesn't always welcome dreamers, I wish you the strength of your dreams, the faith to stick with them, and a lot of success in your future.

Dreams are tricky little suckers, but they're worth it. Life's flat and gray without 'em.

More later,
Tammar

Dreams, large and small

Not to belabor the point I already made in my earlier post, but I just came across this lovely quote by Mahatma Gandhi which sums up the total of our existance here on earth.

 "Whatever you do will be insignificant, but it is very important that you do it." 

Just because one might not break any records or shake up the world doesn't mean it wasn't worthy and lovely and worthwhile.

More later,

Tammar

 

Dreams

Recently, I heard someone say that the most disappointed writers are not the ones who were never published but the ones who were published and their books didn't sell well. There's some truth to that, but not in the obvious way.

The day my agent called me to say that my manuscript sold to Knopf and they wanted a two-book deal was one of the best days of my life. I suddenly understood the phrase walking on air, I was that excited. I had been working on the book for five years--twenty percent of my life. I had been frustrated, disappointed, hurt, and embarrassed along the way. I had to be stubborn, to believe in my work (in my dream) when everyone else in the business didn't. That wasn't easy. If I had never had that phone call, eventually I would have given up. It was too much to keep trying and failing, rejection after rejection. The same summer my agent sold my book, I had applied to graduate school. I was going to be a school counselor and help others find their passion in life. If I had quit writing, I wouldn't have lived a sad and disappointed life, because I would have set one dream aside and created a new dream, a new goal, and nurtured a new passion. Most people are not one dream people. We're bigger than that.

But since the book did sell, I've stayed a writer, and I've continued along the journey. None of my books have become New York Times best sellers or won the Printz. Am I disappointed? Um, yeah, kind of. (Though it bears pointing out that it still might happen. Here's looking at you SPOILS.) That's the point. When you love books and you write one yourself, your whole goal is just to see it on a bookshelf, at least that was my goal. And so it seems like it all comes down to that pub date because that's the moment your dream comes true. But most dreams come true gradually over time. Like falling in love--it doesn't happen at first sight, or loving your job--it doesn't happen until you're really good at it, which won't happen on the first day/month/year of your work. But when your dream comes true in a single moment, life doesn't end (thank God) which means the happily ever after doesn't follow because there are only more dreams to follow.

If I'm frustrated or disappointed more with my writing than I would have been if I had given up on writing, it's not fair to say that it's a sadder life to be a mid-list writer than a manuscript-in-the-drawer-that-I-gave-up-on writer. It's simply a condition of living and having more dreams that grow bigger and better with time.

Which is all to say that dream are complicated little suckers, but I can't imagine living life without them.

What are your dreams? Have they changed over time? Have any come true?

More later,

Tammar

Jellicoe Road by Melina Marchetta

We went away for the weekend and I brought Melina Marchetta's Printz-winning book Jellicoe Road along with me. The author's from Australia which is where the novel is set, and that's two point in it's favor right there. And it won the Printz, so I knew it had to be good. But to be honest, the first lines really turned me off.

"My father took one hundred and thirty-two minutes to die. I counted."

I thought, oh crap, I don't think I'm gonna like this. So it sat on my night stand for a week before we left, and when we went away, I grabbed it because if I didn't read it while on vacation, I would never read it at all.

I am so glad I brought it along! It was absolutely wonderful. Forget those first lines. This is a book about love and forgiveness and the redemptive power of friendship. And I realize that I just strung three clichés in a row and I hope you will forgive me for it.

Have I mentioned that I love this book?

I admire Marchetta because she trusts the reader enough to confuse the ever-living daylight out of us before things start to make sense. I won't even bother with a synopsis. I recommend you don't read the one on the book, either, as they did a terrible job explaining it and it won't clarify much anyway. Suffice to say, there are two streams of narratives flowing at the same time, they are tied to each other though they take place 22 years apart, and it all will make sense eventually so stick with it!

I don't want to give much away, but Marchetta's character development is awesome, (Taylor, Jonah, Raffaela, I love you all) The pacing's slow at first, but picks up speed and towards the end, I was glued to the pages. Forget the lovely sunset or the beckoning waters of the lake. I needed to know how it all turned out.

For those of you who already read it, were you as confused as I was in the beginning? If so, did you stick with it or put it down?

More later,

Tammar

Make me care

Have you seen the Ted talk by Andrew Stanton on what makes a good story? Stanton is the creator of Toy Story and WALL-E. He does drop an F-bomb in the talk, right off bat, but it'll make you laugh.

 

His basic premise about how to tell a story is to "make me care." We watch, we read, we stay and listen because we care. And we care because there's something there that intriguing, or compelling, or touching. We want to know what happens next."Drama is anticipation mingled with uncertainty."

Now that's a recipe for sucess if I ever heard one.

More later,

Tammar

 

Junot and Me

 

With whom are you hanging out with, so casually discussing art, literature and meaning of life, you ask? Why, none other than Junot Diaz. Do I look a bit star struck? Naw, not me. He gave an amazing talk last week and was kind enough to hang out afterwards with all of us admirers, staying relaxed and down to earth with everyone.

His talk was full of salty language that he used like a scalple to cut through people's expectations and shyness.

"I won't shame you," he promised a woman as he asked her to stand up in front of everyone (there were maybe 200 people in the room.) She hesitated. "I won't shame you." And he didn't. She had asked him what a couple of Spanish words from his book meant. She couldn't find the definition anywhere. Once she stood up, he said, "could the someone in the audience who knows what those words mean find this woman after my talk and tell her?" It was such a charming way to handle an awkward situation (and one imagines that the words were totally x rated since he had no problem dropping about a hundred f-bombs in an hour.)

It was a great evening and I'm reading his Pulitzer prize winning novel The Brief Wonderful Life of Oscar Wao. And it's pretty wow, too.

 

 

More later,

Tammar

Survey says part III.

 

MY NAME: MIRIAM ABBOT-LEVY

 

What are you listening to right now?  The Story by Brandi Carlile

What time did you get up this morning? 7 am

 

What are you reading? The Bride’s Farewell by Meg Rosoff. We might start running book reviews in the paper. I’m pushing Frank to say yes.
         
What was the last movie you saw?  I can’t remember, isn’t that horrible? Probably something lame with Mo on TV.

 

What did you eat for breakfast?  Oatmeal with honey and tea.

 
What food do you dislike? Fried food. Tastes great but…you know.

 

What characteristic do you despise? Meanness.

 

Favorite item of clothing?  Emmett’s leather jacket.

 

If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where would you go?  Japan

 

What did you want to be when you were little?  A cooking teacher

        

How are you today?  I’m fine, thanks.

 

 

 

The first person you spoke to on the phone today:  My mom. She called to ask about Mo. 

 

Summer or winter? Spring

 

Hugs or kisses?  Hugs

 

Chocolate or Vanilla?  Vanilla

 

Coffee or tea?  Tea.  

 

When was the last time you cried? Let’s just say someone’s back in my life that I didn’t expect to see again. He’d make anyone cry.

What did you do last night?  Nothing exciting. It’s a work night, so I went to bed early.

 

What are you afraid of?  Failing the people I love.

 


Survey says part II.

Arden was overseas and had spotty internet access. I finally pinned her down when she landed back in the States again. Here are her survey answers.

 

MY NAME:  ARDEN VOGEL

 

What time did you get up this morning? 5:27 am, but I think that was yesterday? I'm kind of thrown with jet lag. I haven't really slept in 29 hours.

 

What are you listening to? New Soul by Yael Naim. She sings in English, French and Hebrew, it's a pretty awesom mix.


Diamonds or pearls?  Pearls, I guess.

 

What are you reading now?  The Brotherhood series by J.R. Ward. Katie started me on the first book. It’s like crack, you read one and you’re addicted.
         
What was the last movie you saw?  The Holiday. Now I’m dying to do a house exchange.

 

What did you eat for breakfast? Granola, fruit and yogurt.  

 
What food do you dislike? Fishy fish. Anything over-priced.

 

What characteristic do you despise? Pettiness

 

Favorite item of clothing? A bright red dress I bought in Italy.

 

If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where would you go?  No brainer, Italy. 

 

What did you want to be when you were little? A nurse, like my mom.

        

How are you today? Very excited. Peter’s plane in landing in five hours. We’re spending the weekend together.

 

 


The first person you spoke to on the phone today:  My mom. With the time difference between here and Germany, mornings are a great time to catch up.

 

Summer or winter?  Summer

 

Hugs or kisses?  Hugs

 

Chocolate or Vanilla?  I don’t know, I like them both.

 

Coffee or tea?  Coffee in the morning, tea at night.

 

 

When was the last time you cried? The Holiday. Happy endings always make me cry. 

 

What are you afriad of? Car accidents

 

 

Survey says:

A favorite author of mine had her characters fill out some surveys.  I thought this was such a great idea, I emailed Maya, Arden, and Miriam to see if they wanted to do this, too. Maya's email came in first.

 

MY NAME:    MAYA LAOR

What are you listening to right now?  The Idan Raichel Project

What time did you get up this morning?   10:30am, aka, the crack of dawn

Diamonds or pearls?   Diamonds   

What did you eat for breakfast?   Coffee, toast and jam

What food do you dislike?   Watery tomatoes! How hard is it to grow decent produce?

What characteristic do you despise?  Lack of sincerity

What are you reading? Counselor by Ted Sorensen. Justin asked me to read it.

Favorite item of clothing?  Leather sandals that Hen sent for my birthday. That woman’s got taste.

If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where would you go?   There’s no place like Jerusalem. No place. 

What did you want to be when you were little? A unicorn.

How are you today? A little anxious. Huge exam today. It's the reason I woke up at the crack of dawn.

The first person you spoke to on the phone today? No one yet, thank God.

Summer or winter? Winter. Especially snow. (I think she's blushing, but it's hard to tell over email.)

Hugs or kisses? Kisses.

Chocolate or vanilla? Are you joking? This is a question? Chocolate, of course.

Coffee or tea? Again, what's with asking the obvious? Coffee. Coffee. Coffee.

When was the last time you cried? I don't want to talk about it.

What are you afraid of? Losing the ones I love. I will never stop fearing that.

 

Arden promised to get her answers in soon...

More later,

Tammar

SPOILS!

 

You still have to wait a bit before you can read it (Dec 1, to be exact), but at least you can now feast your eyes on the cover. Do you like it? Doesn't it look like a hot, muggy summer? (It's supposed to.)

For the first time in my writing life, I actually lived in one place long enough to write about it and Florida wormed its way into the novel like a second protagonist. When you live somewhere that has man-eating sink holes, dog-eating alligators, and cement-eating termites, it's not something that just slinks by unobtrusively. No. It makes itself known. It takes over the plot like an invasive air potato (yeah, we have that too, and they look exactly like innocent potatoes laying on top of the soil, except they're poisonous.)

I can't wait to share Spoils with you (and the free e-novella, Debts, that will come before hand.)

More later,

Tammar

Work in progress

My third novel, Kindred, came about in a very unusual way. I was driving in the car and listening to the radio when the Black Crows song, Addiction, came on. I'd heard this song before, of course, but for some reason on that day, the lyrics stayed and haunted me long after the song ended. Says she talks to angels, says they call her out by her name.

For two days, that line played on endless repeat in my head until finally, to make it stop, I wrote a short story about a young woman named Miriam whom the angels call out. When I finished the story, instead of feeling better, I felt like I'd only started. That short story grew up to be Kindred. Phew, right? Nope. Normally, I would be finished. In my previous two novels, once I finished writing and editing the book I was finished with the characters. As much as I loved them, we were all ready to move on. Not Kindred. Two years after it first appeared, the darned image of a terrible being appearing to some unsuspecting fool still hadn't left. There was more left to say.

For those of you have read Kindred, I'm sure you can feel it too. I certainly got enough emails about it. There was more to Miriam and Emmett and Mo. I outlined an entire sequel, but for various reasons, I didn't write it. Instead, I wrote a different story: two very minor characters from Kindred have their own story told set in the same world where angels appear to unsuspecting individuals as the devil messes with their complicated sibling.  I've finished writing this book and it will come out this year, probably December, as the companion novel Spoils. More on that on a later post.

But in the meantime, there's this gap between where Kindred leaves off and Spoils picks up and the connection between Miriam and Emmett to Leni and Gavin seems so distant as to be almost invisible. So I decided to do yet another new thing. I'm writing a novella, a bridge between Kindred and Spoils that tells a bit about what happens to Miriam and Emmett, the Florida tea shop owner Natasha, and the critical link between Tennessee and Florida.

My first readers are now taking a look at it and I plan to post it for free by Fall, 2013. I can't wait to hear what you all think of it once it's out and I dearly hope you enjoy it.

More later,

Tammar

 

 

Writers at home...

are mostly slobs.

Don't believe me? Look here. I love this voyeuristic view into writers' homes, but no, I'm not posting one of me, naked, reading the paper. Sorry, Hemingway, most of us can't rock that look like you do.

I think it's a hoot that Rudyard Kipling wears a safari hat at home. You know, just relaxin'. Though I have to admit that his bookshelves are remarkably tidy.

More later,

Tammar

Downton Abbey, the view from under a rock

Those of you that know me will know that I mostly live under a rock. Scandal rocks my alma mater and the President is asked to resign, followed by massive student protests and is then reinstated...yeah, what? I missed it.

There's a show called Bachlor and women do what? I missed it.

There's a show called American Idol and people do what? I don't know what you're talking about.

There's talk show host who was once a VP nominee? Huh?

So you'll understand the miracle of the fact that I am totally and completely hooked on Downton Abbey (it helps that it's on PBS.)

This past Sunday, catching up on last week's season, I watched 3.5 hours of the British show, which is quite a feat for me. As a writer, I loved watching the stories develop, the characters evolving (or not) and the sheer pleasure of watching masters at work revive a bygone time.

I don't want to spoil any endings for those of you interested in the show who haven't seen the second half of this season, but I don't think it reveals much to say there were some real humdingers that I didn't see coming (and one that I totally and completely saw coming! Honestly, the season finale's last 15 minutes were predictable from the opening scene, in my humble opinion. Again, I don't want to spoil it for those who haven't seen it, but email me and I'll tell you why.) So I was riveted by this interview in the New York Times with the show's creator Jullian Fellowes who explains some of the more shocking twists and turns in a remarkably down to earth way that made me go, "oh, yeah, that explains it."

More later,

Tammar

15 Views of Tampa Bay...for sale!

You might remember a little project of mine from this summer, my first go at collaborative writing. Fifteen writers from Tampa Bay each wrote an uber short story set somewhere in the Bay Area and linked, in some artistically mysterious way, to the story that came before theirs. I loved it. I thought people wrote all sorts of brilliant fiction and it was a true pleasure and honor to be part of the cohort.

And now my dear friends, Burrow Press has complied those said 15 nuggets of Florida brilliance into a book that one may purchase. And when I say "one" I truly hope that one is you.

It's actually two fabulous books in one, the original 15 Views of Orlando, that started this fantastical voyage, and the second *ahem* improved version featuring the stunning beauty and weirdness of Tampa Bay. Really, how can one resist?*

More later,

Tammar

*and by one, I mean you.

Fun stuff

I have a couple of new web crushes I wanted to share with you.

First this guy. I won't tell you how much time I've spent on his site the last few days, he's so creative and accessible! I can't stop! I made the tiny chair from the top of a sparkling wine bottle, I printed the tiny travel set of Paris (how did I make it for so long with one, I wonder??) And I can't wait for someone to make me the bird mobile. Hint, hint.

Awesome, right?

My other web crush is this fantastically cool lady. I'm almost finished with Raven Boys and I cannot wait for the squeal. I'm always inspired and impressed by fabulous authors who create such new, fascinating characters (pardon all the three and four syllable "f" words, I don't know what's gotten into me) but this woman races in the snow! I told you she's cool.

More later,

Tammar

 

Air Force Memorial

We had a break from the cold weather today and I could swear I smelled a touch of summer in the humid breeze and 70 degree weather (crazy considering my post from 5 days ago...if this is global warming, I'll take it!) So I took a break from all the baking (and eating) and went for a walk. A long one. All the way to here.

(image found here.)

I can catch a glimpse of the majestic Air Force Memorial from around my neighborhood, so today I decided to walk over and see the rest of it. Visiting the Memorial probably doesn't make a lot of top ten lists of things to do in DC, but I highly recommend it. I had the place to myself and those imposing, graceful silver arches are amazing up close. The entire Memorial is lined with dark gray soap stone in stern lines and rectangles, and chiseled on the walls are quote after inspiring quote about Duty, Service, Sacrifice, Honor, Excellence, big ideas we don't often spend much time thinking about.

On this lovely day in Washington, with a warm wind buffeting the flags and the clouds sailing overhead, I was really moved by the beauty and the pain the Memorial evokes.

More later,

Tammar

Brrrr...

So it's freezing here. Literally. High was 24 today, with the wind chill: 14. Now I understand it's much, much colder up north with blasts of Arctic weather bringing temperatures down so low that they're closing ski resorts. In North Dakota it got to -50. I didn't realize air could get so cold. Compared to that +24 sound balmy, but remember, I left Tampa Bay at 80. So I'm hurting.

I don't know if it's a weird coping mechanism for staying warm, or just stress, but I cannot stop eating. Seriously, dear friends, I'm eating double what I did in Florida. Normal breakfast in Tampa Bay was a cup of tea and a slice of toast. Yesterday I ate 3 pieces of toast, drank 4 cups of tea, and was prowling the kitchen looking for a little nosh not two hours past breakfast. This is not going to end well.

It doesn't help that I'm rustling up things like this.

Nope. That doesn't help at all. But it sure is tasty.

More later,

Tammar

Homesick

Did you hear? In addition to holding the first annual Great Python Hunt in the everglades (with prizes!) because, you know, they're taking over the neighborhood, there's now a problem with invasive lionfish in the Gulf? Oh Florida, I miss you.

Oh, there are crazy things going on in Virginia too, like, we thought we'd have a big snow storm last night, but in the end...we didn't. Craaazy.

One good thing about chilly weather though--with or without snow--is that suddenly, recipes like this and this are not really about indulgence, they're about staying warm!

 

More later,

Tammar