See those bright and inquisitive eyes, and the smile that hints at a secret? They belong to Christi Craig, a multifaceted woman who is fellow writer, sign language interpreter, and owner of the blog, Writing Under Pressure. When I first met Christi, I was quite taken with her storytelling talent. She captures a moment, a character, and a twist in plot that delights her readers. Whenever Christi puts up a new post on her blog I know I’m in for a treat.

Brava & Bravo is a category on my blog where I enjoy highlighting women and men whom I admire. Their talents are diverse but they all have one thing in common: they are wonderfully creative. I invited Christi to be a part of Brava and was so glad when she graciously accepted. She’s written a special essay—one that I particularly love. I think you will too!

The Streak, Mr. Duck, and a Vision

A few months ago, my husband completed a year-long running streak. For 365 days straight – no matter the weather or a late night of work or a killer cold – he put on his running shoes and hit the pavement.

Three miles.

Six miles.

Ten miles.

He was dedicated, committed, and some days a little obsessive. Once he hit the year mark, he turned to me and said that running every day was no longer a streak.

“It’s a way of life.”

I nodded in complete understanding. Running, I thought, is a lot like writing.

I write every day.

A paragraph.

A few hundred words.

One whole page.

I am dedicated, committed, and some days a little obsessive. Though that wasn’t always the case.

I was in the fifth grade when I first caught the writing bug.

“A How-To book,” our teacher, Mrs. Young, told our class. “That’s your assignment. You are the author, the illustrator, and the expert.”

I focused on the word “expert,” and tried to think of something I could do well. I could play the piano, sort of. I knew the rules of Softball, but I had barely worn in my glove. Never mind my batting average. I was pretty good at irritating my older sisters, but that wasn’t a skill I could break down into five simple steps.

I had nothing.

Then, at school one day, the catch phrase of the year echoed down the hallway outside of the classroom.

“Gag me with a spoon!” I heard.

The words reverberated in my mind and an image formed. Once I got home, I scoured the house for pencils, crayons, and Manila paper. Manic and determined, I worked all afternoon, writing and drawing. I re-worded the catch phrase to make the story unique and wrote my very first book:

How to Gag Yourself with a Spatula, Starring Mr. Duck.

(I would not realize the art of naming characters until much later.)

When I turned in the assignment, Mr. Duck wore a red bowtie, and I wore a broad smile.

Mrs. Young hosted the How-To book release party in the intimate setting of our homeroom. When I stood up to read, I planted myself in front of the chalkboard. I ignored the heat rising up my neck and read Mr. Duck’s five steps to a successful gag with an everyday kitchen utensil. Afterward, I received rave reviews, and I was hooked.

Hooked on writing.

Hooked on taking the spark of an idea and turning it into a story that would capture and captivate an audience.

It took years and another writing assignment – this time from a published author teaching an online course – for the seed of writing that was planted in the fifth grade to take root.

“Write your own beautiful vision,” our instructor directed, “of where you want to be in five years.”

I struggled to dream big. But really, I knew what I wanted.

I have just finished reading the final proof of my novel. Tomorrow, I call my agent, who calls the publisher, who calls the printer. I fan the pages of my manuscript and see my words come alive as the story unfolds – the story of a character I’ve been getting to know for several years now.

Let the story go, I tell myself, and let it land where it may.

My son and daughter are in school for only a few more weeks, so my afternoons are still mine, and quiet. I step outside and walk to the garden. With bare hands and tools, I turn the soil, wake up the earthworms. I prepare the ground for herbs, tomatoes, and wildflowers. The wind raises goose bumps on my arms, but the sun warms my back.

Today, the dream of holding my novel in my hands seems much more possible. Not because I have an agent or a publisher. Not even because I get paid to write. But, because the moment I wrote that vision, I called myself a Writer.

I write every day – no matter my mood, or the status of my muse, or the absence of time.

One paragraph.

One page.

One whole story.

Writing is no longer a dream; it’s no longer a hobby. It’s a way of life.

“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful

than the risk it took to blossom.” ~Anais Nin

On Thursday evening, October 21st, I was welcomed with open arms to the beautiful cities of Lancaster and Lititz, PA. This was a very special fundraising event sponsored by the The Council of Friends of Lancaster County Public Libraries and Aaron’s Books. Held in a beautifully restored building that was once a cork factory, the event was, from begging to end, a remarkable experience.

As the attendees arrived in the annex of the ballroom they were greeted by glorious floral arrangements and the aroma of Oletta’s freshly baked cinnamon rolls which were made from scratch by the chef of the Cork Factory Hotel. Following an hour of gaiety and socializing, the attendees took their seats. I was stunned to see how many people showed up to hear me speak and to support this worthy cause. It was an honor to be a part of such a grand occasion.

Sam and Todd Dickenson, owners of Aaron’s books, had a huge table set up with towers of my newly released paperback, and Mary Ann Heltshe-Steinhauer, the Community Relations Manager for Lancaster Libraries gave me a warm and lovely introduction. I had the amazing opportunity to speak to a room packed full of book lovers, and I made many new friends. Thank you to everyone for giving me such a wonderful page in my own Life Book … I can’t wait to return to Lancaster and Lititz for a long weekend of antiquing and relaxation!

Below are two short videos (many thanks to Dr. Karen Monroy who did the filming with her iPhone), and some still pictures of the event.

This is an exciting time. The paperback edition of Saving CeeCee Honeycutt launches on October 26th and I’ll be traveling throughout the Midwest and the South until March.

Often I’m asked what it’s like to do such extensive tours, so I’ve decided to answer that question here.  First and foremost, it’s an honor. With the economic cutbacks that have hit all industries across the board, few authors have had the opportunities afforded me. To say that I’m grateful to Pamela Dorman Books/Viking-Penguin doesn’t adequately express how I feel. Every step of my journey has been, and continues to be, a privilege.

Book tours are thrilling and delightful, and even when I arrive at my hotel room, sit down to check email and fall flat on my face from fatigue, I find that by the time I take a shower and head out for the next event, I’m charged up with a plentiful amount of energy. Why? It’s the people—the book lovers (booksellers, librarians, book bloggers and readers) who are waiting. They are the lithium of my battery and they have never failed me.

To walk into an event, step to the podium, and look out at their faces is magical. And no matter how many events I’ve done, that magical feeling always bubbles inside me and I feel like a child about to see Santa for the first time. Sure, I’m less nervous than I was when I began this amazing journey, but never am I less thrilled. There’s no experience quite like it, and I doubt there ever will be.

Tour locations can be seen in the EVENTS lineup; I’ll be adding many more as the dates and times are confirmed.

Will you look at that smile! And those eyes!

Recently I was interviewed about my novel by a woman named Amanda Hervey. Amanda is a fellow Kentuckian and loves the beautiful Bluegrass State as much as I do. We had a great time during the interview, and when it came to a close our conversation somehow segued to our love of antiques, old discarded items, and the joys of sniffing out terrific finds at flea markets, second-hand stores, and garage sales.  That’s when I learned that Amanda is a creative whiz at transforming old cast-offs into bona fide treasures.

Amanda is an assistant editor for Kentucky Monthly Magazine, and she’s the kind of creative spirit who is multi-talented. I enjoyed my conversation with Amanda so much that I asked her if I could feature her in the BRAVA! section on my blog, and she graciously said yes. Below you will find some downright amazing transformations that Amanda has recently done. Her website (A Lovely Place to Land) is chock full of ideas and inspiration. It’s a fantastic site and I hope you’ll check it out. Below are some pictures (used with Amanda’s permission) of a few of her reconstituted treasures.

Brava to Amanda for her amazing creativity and vision!

Before: an old damaged end table

After: a darling child’s play oven. (How cute is this!)

Before: an old 1950s metal office chair

After: a terrific retro transformation that has pizzazz!

Before: simple wood blocks and a jar of Mod Podge

After: a set of super baby blocks!

Randy Susan Meyers is the author of the critically acclaimed novel, The Murderer’s Daughters, and she’s a true girlfriend. Our books launched at almost exactly the same time, and we hugged each other so tightly when we met at the ALA convention in Boston that I think I left an imprint of a button on her sweater. Randy is a wonderful writer, and her blog, Word Love by Randy Susan Meyers, is a favorite destination for writers and those who aspire to be.

I asked Randy if she’d share one of my favorite posts from her blog here on my website, and she graciously said yes. This is fabulous advice, and I hope you’ll read it.

Real Life: What I Keep & What I Leave Behind

By Randy Susan Meyers

“But it really happened.”

I was in an adult-ed writer’s group when I first heard this. I’d watched the woman speaking become tenser and grimmer as members of the group—gently and with compassion—suggested that the gruesome events on the page could be presented in a manner more conducive to engaging the reader.

She listened for only a few moments—sadly, this group did not have a ‘be silent while being critiqued’ policy—before unleashing, accusing the group of everything from indifference about sexual assault on children, to ignorance about how children really thought (this in response to our collective idea that 4-year-olds did not speak like 30-year-olds.) She shook as she lectured us on the horror of incest.

True that. Everything she said about her pain and suffering was true—but it still didn’t work on the page. My social services hat went on and I reacted to her effort at self-therapy on paper, attempting to bandage her up. Writing this way isn’t always a bad thing, but it’s not always good either—for the writer or the reader.

Writer X didn’t have the dramatic distance needed to make her story into fiction. Her devotion to her memories (as she remembered them) transformed her work into something uncomfortable to read, not because of discomfort with the subject matter (as she’d accused us) but because somehow her “facts” made for poor fiction.

Recently, in a moment of bravery, I looked back on my awful first attempt at a novel (where I’d mashed-up fact and fiction.) I analyzed it, curious to unearth the reasons my early work was a disaster. Reading through spread fingers in front of my face, I found that I’d worked too hard to make the me-disguised-as-a-character seem heroic, victimized, wry, adorable, etc, and the antagonists (usually ex-partners) appear as a worse or better version of who they really were. All this was done in service of revving up history, with a goal of making life unfold and then climax in the manner I’d always wanted. While perhaps good for my mental health, these goals didn’t meet the mission of providing a quality experience for the reader.

Now I believe in only using the emotional truths and themes; ‘it really happened’ events are only used as stepping-stones to the drama of “what if.” For instance, I blew up an event in my childhood, when my father attacked my mother, into a novel of a father killing his wife in front of his daughters.

Avoiding family facts while building a fictional world (orphanages, fathers in prison, foster families, medical school . . .) allowed me the freedom to present my point of view and side characters without feeling boxed in or constrained, whereas using  autobiographical characters provokes my reticence. It also let me explore the theme of family loyalty in a far more dramatic and open fashion than using my own life would allow.

In my current work-in-progress, where infidelity ripples through many families and three generations, I again use emotional facts while avoiding real history. Invention frees me, while following real life freezes my fiction into a boring rigidity of event telling and avoidance (hey, my family’s gonna read it!)

Even when using emotional truth, I will pick and choose what to delve into. I find that only the passion of something far enough away from my current circumstances gives me story-telling breathing room. For instance, I couldn’t write about the new-love-sex-is-amazing and life-is-Technicolor period of early relationships while in the throes of that glitter-time, for fear of sounding like the blathering idiot one does become during this time.

Other bits of life, even emotional life, I can never explore (for fear of rendering truths that are not mine to expose) are those of my children or husband. It was impossible to borrow from my mother or father’s lives until they were gone. My sister and I discussed how far I could and would go in my fiction.

I’d don’t want to be in a face-off between loyalty to a reader and loyalty to my family, so I stick with the inner and outer world that belongs to me.

It’s funny, readers so often wonder if “it really happened.” They are sometimes determined to conflate the author and the writer. A friend recently told a story of going to a book club for her novel and being told with great surprise: “You look nothing like your character!”

It is true that many love writing their life into their novels and there is room for all in the big book tent. Each of us finds our own balance, but when I write, the scenes that truly transport me and send me soaring are the furthest things from real life, but not furthest from my imagination.

Randy’s novel is available at fine booksellers in the USA and abroad, Barnes & Noble, and Amazon

Visit Randy’s website