Andre Dubus III Won My Heart

The second week in July, I attended the Antioch Writer’s Workshop. What an exhausting and exhilarating week. The benefits continue to accrue. Here’s my first installment.

Andre Dubus III gave the keynote address on Saturday evening and then taught the Master Class on Sunday morning. What a ball of energy he is. I would love to take writing classes from him.

Here are some of the gems he shared with us:

“It ain’t talent! It’s curiosity, wonder, mulling and musing about humans. Someone, somewhere, writes better than you. So what? Protect your creativity. Contend with jealousy in your head but don’t let it into your heart.”

Questions storytellers ask: “What’s it like to be in this thing that happened?”

“Listen to the little voice inside you. Work from the inside out. There’s a lot of mystery involved. Make your writing an intimate experience for your readers. Go inside and transfer feelings from one heart to another...empathy and truth.”

“Do that that makes you feel more like yourself than at any other time.”

“Self-consciousness is death to creativity.”

“I never wanted to be a writer. I just loved writing.”

When Andre relayed his process for writing the book he’s best known for, House of Sand and Fog, the whole room was mesmerized.

When he signed his book, Dirty Love, for me, I told him, “I loved your memoir, Townie, especially at the end, the way you wrote about your transformation.”

  

His eyes sparkled and he leaned toward me with a delighted grin. “You know, I knew I’d changed. But I didn’t know I’d transformed until I wrote it.”

I really get what he meant. As I delve more deeply into my own character and make increasingly deeper connections with my past, I find myself silently exclaiming, “Oh, that’s why that was so important to me,” or “That’s why I acted the way I did,” or “That makes so much sense now.”

After asking what I was writing and if my memoir had a name, he turned to another page and signed,

“For Linda,

Here’s to you &

A Long Awakening to Grace.

Love, Andre.”

That moment of connection with Andre was thrilling for me. His sharing so personably, being interested in me and what I’m doing, his willingness to go the extra mile by signing two pages, the second with a personal inscription won my heart. He's a real pro. Thank you, Andre, for getting AWW off to a great start for me.

Poetry at Antioch Writer’s Workshop

This week, July 12-18, I’m attending Antioch Writer’s Workshop in Yellow Springs, Ohio. I’m learning a lot.

Today I learned about Minimal Poems from Chris DeWeese, an Assistant Professor of Poetry at Wright State University. Minimal poems can have as few as one word. That surprised me.

Chris invited us to write a poem with ten words or less. Here’s mine:

                I am who I am who I will be.

                Who?

Honoring an Encourager

“Encouragement from any source is like a drop of rain upon a parched desert.

Thanks to all the many others who rained on me when I needed it,

and even when I foolishly thought I didn’t.”

Claire Gillian

Fifteen years ago, while listening to my daughter tell our story, Julie looked at me at least three times, stating, “You need to write a book about this.” Her words were like rain upon the parched desert of my life. Her encouragement stayed with me, giving me the confidence to begin and keep writing, to pitch to an agent, to explore paths to publication. Without her encouragement, I might not have experienced the healing balm of writing. I might never have heard a New York agent say, “Your story has a compelling narrative arch. Send me a proposal.”   

Julie is the nurse I first met on one of the most difficult days of my life. She was obviously a great nurse. She stayed two and a half hours beyond her twelve-hour shift out of concern for the outcome of that arduous day. She was too exhausted to continue her vigil, missing the passing of the height of the crisis and the awakening to grace. So, two days later, at the end of another twelve-hour shift, she visited us in another wing of the hospital to see how we were doing. She stayed an hour listening to my daughter relay the story.

A year ago, while writing A Long Awakening to Grace, I wandered around that floor of the hospital to refresh my memory. The women at the nurses’ station asked if they could help. They were very excited when I told them the reason for my visit. One of the nurses escorted me on a tour in search of the room we’d spent hours in so long ago. I gave them the names of the two nurses who had attended to us and told them about Julie encouraging me to write a book. Marlene had moved away, but they still had contact with Julie. She no longer works as a nurse, but they were sure she’d want to know that I’d followed her encouragement. I gave them my card and told them to have Julie call me.

She called just as I was heading out the door to a meeting. She indicated a desire to stay in touch, but was unavailable when I called back. A year went by with no contact.

Then, Sunday, June 22^nd, I read with interest an article in the newspaper about David Beck, an actor, director, producer, composer, and scriptwriter. What a talented guy. His film, For Francis, was being previewed at the Neon movie on Thursday, June 26^th. The film is a tribute to his junior high English teacher, one of his encouragers. The article said his teacher would be in attendance as would his mother, Julie Beck. I jumped for joy inside. Attending would provide an opportunity for me to reconnect with Julie.

Jacqui, my unofficially adopted daughter from Taiwan, is currently here for a visit. I was serving as her host mother during that time fifteen years ago. I invited her to come with me to the Neon. She enthusiastically agreed.

The theater was packed with David’s family and friends. Since I hadn’t seen her in fifteen years, I wasn’t sure I’d recognize Julie. Serendipitously, I sat next to someone who knew her well. Janet agreed to help me find her after the showing.

When she heard my name, Julie immediately recognized me and our connection. We hugged and chatted briefly about how proud she must be of her son. She seemed overjoyed to receive my new card and know about this blog. Before we parted, reaffirming our intention to stay in touch, I introduced her to Jacqui. I told her about our history and that Jacqui considers me to be her “American Mom.”

Her immediate response touched me deeply. “You have so much love to give.”

Julie & Linda at The Neon

As I drove back home, her remark stayed with me. It stays with me still. Fifteen years ago Julie witnessed me wrestling with how to extend “mother love” in a most challenging situation. She astutely recognized my struggle and extended reassurance to me and my daughter. Her support that day soothed my parched desert of guilt and shame.

“You have so much love to give” was like a period at the end of the shame attack I’d experienced following the Mad Anthony Writer’s Workshop. It is just the encouragement I need as I prepare to attend the Antioch Writer’s Workshop in mid July. I will remember her words as my writing and my character are critiqued in the memoir writing class.

I’ve had many encouragers in my life and I write about the significant ones in my memoir. Julie is one you will find there. I want to honor her here as well. Thank you, Julie, and the many others who have and continue to rain on me when I need it and even when I don’t think I do. You bring refreshing water to my parched desert restoring LIFE, and I am eternally grateful.

My Intention: Wholehearted Engagement

“...we must dare to show up and let ourselves be seen.

This is vulnerability. This is daring greatly.”

Brené Brown

I place a star next to the paragraph I just highlighted in my copy of Brené Brown’s book, Daring Greatly, where she writes about the vulnerability of putting our writing out into the world with no assurance of acceptance or appreciation. She says sharing something we’ve created is a vulnerable but essential part of engaged and Wholehearted living. It’s the epitome of daring greatly, especially for those who approach the world through shame. Shame resilience is called for when we believe that our self-worth is dependent upon getting a positive response.

As a memoirist writing as honestly as possible about shameful aspects of myself and my life, I dare greatly. For the past two years, I’ve been sharing my story with my writing partner. In addition to a recent manuscript review and Master Class at Mad Anthony Writer's Workshop, I’ve been giving chapters to four readers for critique. The ultimate dare will be publishing. 

Nancy Pinard

www.nancypinard.com

The Master Class is facilitated by Nancy Pinard, a Dayton author and former short story teacher at Sinclair Community College and the University of Dayton Life Long Learning Institute. Out of the huge number of mature learners who responded to her class at UDLLI, a group of writers created a support group that continues to meet monthly. Those who were fortunate to be in her class, consider her to be the “Wannabee’s mother.”

For the Master Class at Mad Anthony, four of us submit 15-page manuscripts to Nancy who distributes them to us for critique. I am the only memoir writer. During class each writer remains silent as our work is critiqued. In addition to her appraisal, Nancy gives helpful technical suggestions and examples specific to our genre related to the craft of writing. After hearing everyone’s comments, we are permitted to ask questions or make comments.

My lip quivers as my turn to receive feedback approaches. I’ve already received a manuscript review the day before and have an inkling of what is coming. My character is about to be evaluated along with my writing. My reviewers do not like my mothering, a primary shame trigger for women.

While I am uncomfortable hearing their impressions of me, it is valuable in three ways. First, Nancy noted that I’m not beginning my story in the right place. Additional backstory (background information to more fully understand my character) was needed. Now I have written new chapters for the beginning and moved the chapter under review to ninth place.

Second, despite my discomfort, I am able for the first time to take in positive comments about my skill as a writer and my compelling story. Their interest is piqued in knowing what led to my disliked behavior and how the story turns out. For a writer, that is a good sign.

Third, as one who has struggled with shame for most of my life, this experience gives me an opportunity to see how far I’ve come in developing the shame resilience Brené Brown recommends. For a week, I withdraw and enter a period of self-examination. Were they right about me? Was I a terrible mother?

Wayne Tully Fantasy Art through Zazzle.com

My shame demon attempts to batter me with harsh judgments, stop me from exposing my shameful behavior, kill the joy and healing writing my memoir is giving me. Toward the end of the week, I begin sharing what I’m going through with trusted friends. In my experience, talking about shame renders it impotent. By the beginning of the next week, my shame attack has subsided. In the past, it would have taken months or years. I owe a debt of gratitude to Nancy Pinard and my Master Class-mates for giving me an opportunity to see the progress I’ve made. I owe a debt of gratitude to my friends who hold me up when my shame demon tries to sink me.

The middle of July, I’ll be daring greatly again at the Antioch Writer’s Workshop, submitting Chapter 2 for a Seminar dealing with manuscripts as well as another one-on-one critique.

I find a needed bit of wisdom in a quote by Adam Appleson, “Share whatever it is you’re ashamed about. You may think you can hide your shame by not talking about it, but in reality, it’s your shame that’s hiding you.”

My shame has been hiding me for far too long. I’m not writing about the shameful aspects of my life to attract attention. I’m writing to come out of hiding...to join the journey from “What will people think?” to “I am enough”...to engage in Wholehearted living. Along the way, I hope my story will inspire others to do the same. And that means being vulnerable and daring greatly. And so it is.    

An Adventure in LIVING

As the Mad Anthony Writer’s Workshop (April 4-6) draws near, e-mails fly back and forth. Nita, my writing partner, and I help each other put finishing touches on our pitches.

 Nita with her Bluebells

In the writing business, a “pitch” is a one-to-three minute elevator speech to an agent communicating what is distinctive about our work in a pithy and compelling way. It is intended to stimulate the agent’s interest in representing our book to a publisher.

Rita Rosenkranz, an agent with her own agency in NYC, comes highly recommended to Nita by two other writing professionals. Nita recommends that I pitch to her. Checking her webpage, I find that she represents memoirists including those with a spiritual theme. You-tube videos of presentations she’s given at other writer’s conferences reveal an approachable woman.

Rita Rosenkranz

Nita and I spend months preparing, reading books and articles about how to pitch. I take a class. We read what the agents themselves have to say about it. We find no one consistent format. We try out our pitches on each other and others for feedback. I find the whole process nerve wracking and the prospect of giving a pitch intimidating, much harder than writing the memoir itself. I need an attitude adjustment.

I tell myself, “Not everyone pitches to a New York agent. It’s an adventure. I’ll be proud of myself for doing it no matter the outcome. My pitch isn’t perfect and that’s OK. I’ll learn from whatever happens and I won’t die.”

On Saturday morning Rita and Annie Bomke, an agent from San Diego, co-present two workshops. 

Annie Bomke

The first workshop outlines the benefits of working with an agent. The second workshop explains the process of seeking representation in writing by sending query letters and supporting documents to agents.

These workshops end at 11:05 am. My appointment with Rita is scheduled for 11:20 am. I will have a generous ten minutes with her. My pitch takes less than three minutes. I hope I’ll be able to answer any questions she may have. My hands are trembling. I have fifteen minutes to bolster my confidence. I remind myself that I will not die.

Rita puts me at ease immediately when I tell her who has recommended her to Nita and me. She likes to know how people hear about her.

I launch my pitch. She listens intently. When I finish her first words are “Thank you.” I remember that clearly. I am not sure what came next. If she had said something critical, I’d be able to recite it verbatim. However, her remarks are positive, something like this. “Thank you for a well-crafted pitch.” I can hardly believe what I am hearing.

She begins to explore my platform (marketing plan), something agents must consider with all the changes that have occurred in the publishing industry.

At some point she mentions, “Your story has a compelling narrative arc.” (structure of story: introduction rising action, climax, falling action, resolution)

Then she wants to know when the climax of my story occurred. I tell her 1999. She asks, “Why now?”

I’m so at ease with her by this time I tell her honestly, “I needed to gain maturity. I’ve been writing at it for years but not in a way I’d feel comfortable presenting to the public. As I’ve been writing in the past two or three years, I’ve come to see the strength I’ve gained through all the years of struggle.”

She says, “You’re persistent.”

She continues with a tone that says to me she means it, she’s not just being polite. “Send me a proposal but take your time. Work on developing your platform.”

I am ecstatic. My very first pitch ever in my whole life and a New York agent is showing genuine interest. This will go down in the annals as one of the highlights of my life.

I float down the stairs and head for the lunch room. "The Plot Sisters" are there and want to know how my pitch went. I bubble with excitement as I share my good news. 

The Plot Sisters

Christina matches my enthusiasm and says with a huge smile on her face, “We have a lot of good writers in Dayton and we support each other. We can be part of your platform.” 

I can’t tell you how much that meant to me. A supportive community has always been a lifeline for me.

Now, I have my work cut out for me. As interested as Rita might be, the writing has to be good for her to actually agree to represent me. And the Master Class on Sunday (more on that in a future post) shows I still have a lot to learn about writing memoir.  But as Rita pointed out, I’m persistent.

I didn't die and no matter the outcome, I'm very proud of myself for courageously facing a fear and taking a risk. Isn't that what LIVING is all about?

The Plot Sisters

Today I want to acknowledge five vibrant Dayton writers. They dub themselves “The Plot Sisters,” meet regularly to critique each other’s writing, and attend writing conferences together.

Traci Ison Schafer, Cindy Cremeans, Christina Consolino, Jen Messaros

Ruthann Kain (not pictured)

Fortuitously, I reconnected with four of them at the Mad Anthony Writer’s Conference the first weekend in April after first meeting them in Katrina Kittle’s Character Development class last summer. 

http://katrinakittle.blogspot.com/

My next blog post will reveal my greatest adventure at Mad Anthony. I’ll give you a teaser. Gathering my courage, I stretched beyond my comfort zone in the literary world. "The Plot Sisters" cheered me on, celebrated my courage, and offered continuing support. What could be better than that?

I’m grateful to count "The Plot Sisters" among my newest writing friends and supporters. No one reaches their goals alone. Aspiring authors all, we are giving each other mutual support.  I’d like to introduce them to you.

I follow Traci and Christina’s blogs. Check them out here and join in the cheering:

http://traciisonschafer.blogspot.com/

http://17gon.blogspot.com/

An Abundance of Riches

I’m overflowing with gratitude for the abundance enriching my life the past couple of weekends. 

What an adventure attending my first writer's conference, The Mad Anthony Writer's Conference, at Miami University Hamilton last weekend. There will be more to come on this topic in future posts.

http://writelikemad.com/

Our Cincinnati Writer’s Group met yesterday. Our sharing reached a new depth. We don't know if it was our topic or if our group is maturing. Some members of the group have been meeting since 1999. Jenny, Kate, and I joined in 2010. Our topic for this meeting was, "What Stops Me." They recommended that I post my essay here. I will one of these days. 

Back Row: Jenny, Kate, Lynne, Jean

Front Row: Linda, Gary, Isabelle

Darren McGarvey, founder of Dayton's Word’s Worth Writing Center, spoke at the Salon at Harmony Creek Church this morning. I'm excited. He's considering teaching a Memoir Writing Class this summer. No pressure, Darren.

http://www.wordsworthdayton.com

Sue Monk Kidd, one of my favorite author’s, appeared on Oprah’s Super Soul Sunday today. She is best known for “The Secret Life of Bees.” Her memoirs, “When the Heart Waits” and “The Dance of the Dissident Daughter,” both had a huge impact on me. The program today was full of so much wisdom, I felt joy drinking it in. If you missed it, you should be able to find it on Oprah's website.

http://www.oprah.com/app/super-soul-sunday.html

http://suemonkkidd.com/

In my next post, I’ll share more about my adventure at Mad Anthony.