Don’t Kill Fido
When I hired a sensitivity reader for my upcoming novel, Diamonds in Auschwitz, I never imagined the main piece of advice. I wanted someone to read it and show me the things I got wrong in the Jewish faith and culture and make sure I didn’t accidentally write something offensive. Looking back now, I see that my sensitivity reader almost worked like a focus group. My brain went over those arguments for days. I can’t say how grateful I am to have an editor to do that for me. The sensitivity reader saved one life at least.
Things I learned from copyedits
I am getting closer to the publication date of Diamonds in Auschwitz and a completed book! I finished copyediting the entire manuscript. When you read something 1700 times, you’ll second guess yourself. I thought my book would be edited. One and done. All you non-journalism people can celebrate. The very first thing I noticed when I looked at the copy editor’s changes was the death of my AP comma. I’m entirely too wordy. I blame this on my early Tolstoy and Dostoevsky influences. Like everything else in this publishing journey, copy editing was a wonderful learning experience. Round two of publishing?
Why Historical Fiction?
Why do I write what I write? Why historical fiction? I write it because it needs to be written. I recently visited the US Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington DC. I wanted to go specifically for one small exhibit – the children’s artwork from Terezin, the Jewish ghetto outside of Prague. As I expected, it moved me, made me even more committed to telling the story of those children who were (mostly) all sent straight to the gas chamber. I feel like I’m helping to protect and preserve those stories.
Lightning and Rain Storms
It’s easy now, three and a half years later, for me to romanticize how I came up with Diamonds in Auschwitz. There were a lot of things that I didn’t realize until I started digging into the research, and then, even later, as I was writing. The problem with romanticizing the strike of lightning that was Diamonds in Auschwitz is that it paralyzed me to start my next work in progress. The idea for the book I just started writing has come slowly, building over two years. I was afraid to write it for a long time. I had to just get started and make this rain shower a storm of words.
Confessions of a Non Editor
Confession: I was truly ignorant in regards to the process of writing/preparing a novel for publication. Having just finished the developmental editing phase of publication, I can say without a doubt: I was right. Enter: My Editor. Btw, my editor is fabulous. I was finally given a little direction on major edits. And I loved it! the developmental editing experience was not just essential to get Diamonds in Auschwitz ready for true book form, but it was an amazing lesson.
The Courage to be Naked
After I finished my first draft of Diamonds in Auschwitz, I wanted to hide my manuscript in a box, under my bed, never to see the light of day again. Why would I want to hide my pages? A book is not a book without readers? Showing them to the world, letting others judge them – it’s like walking around naked. Handing over my story to other people was a tremendously terrifying thing for me. I had to close my eyes, take a deep breath and tap the key.
When Winning Feels Like Losing
I know I have to earn the Dream. I realized that I wanted to skip past all my dues, all the hard work, all the reputation- and network-building. I grieved The Dream. I’ve come to terms with it. The goal of Diamonds in Auschwitz is: 1. Telling the story, because I believe it’s an important one to be told. The Dream is still alive, it’s just in the future, but a bit closer.
Part-Time Lover… I mean Writer
If the words I put on a page are not published, is it a book? Am I a writer? My writing aspirations are still a somewhat guarded secret among my friends, acquaintances and day-job co-workers. I only have a file on my computer, a dent in the seat of my office chair, and keyboard keys with the S, D and E worn out to show for my efforts. A professional writer entails having been paid for such efforts. It’s also a badge of honor, in my opinion. Without a book on the shelves of Barnes and Noble, I don’t see that I’ve earned that honor. I shy away from announcing that “I am Writer! Hear Me (or my pen) Roar!” because I’m terrified of failure. “I’m a Writer.”
Confidence is not ‘They will like me.’ Confidence is ‘I’ll be fine if they don’t.’
Sending a manuscript to publishers is a fresh new hell, especially for those who suffer from low confidence and/or crippling imposter syndrome. In all my classes during undergrad, which I took ALL the creative writing ones, never was it mentioned the fortitude of spirit that would be needed to be a writer. Not everyone will like what I wrote, and I will be fine even if they don’t.
Writing and Middle School Robotics
Have you ever attended a middle school robotics competition? In these competitions, there are a lot of misplaced outbursts of anger, a lot of asking “why am I even doing this?”, a lot of tears. I was recently faced with the same dilemma – continue down the path of the novel I was currently writing with very little hope of publishing OR completely start over in hopes of making something spectacular. There was definitely one night of lying in bed deciding that I was done. Done researching, done writing, done trying to make this dream come true. If my twelve-year-old can do it; so can I.
Shopping for an agent at Target
I found my literary agent in Target. And why not? I can find everything else there. In the middle of Target’s health and beauty section, I had a 20-minute conversation with my top pick of literary agents. I felt truly seen. He described my book back to me with all the words I used in my head. The craziest part was that he was trying to sell me on him.
May the Odds Be Ever in Your Favor
After completing the first… and then the second… draft of Diamonds in Auschwitz, I decided it was time to find an agent. I weighed the pros and cons. Then I hit the agency websites. I looked up each agent, again trying to surmise if they were interested in the type of book I had written. Just to keep you in suspense, you’ll have to see my next blog post to find out the results.
A Blank Canvas
I learned to see a new work in progress like a blank canvas. The blank page is not a sign of failure or backtracking. Where will this new adventure take me? To a haunted cathedral of Charleston, across the sea to England during the Age of Enlightenment, or deep into the rooms of the Constantinople harem during Ottoman Empire? Stay tuned to find out what my blank canvas becomes.
The Death of My WIP
My WIP is not dead. I went through the stages of grief. I bought a stack of different nonfiction books, from different locations and different time periods, to find the next story that inspires me and makes me fall in love. I’m excited for my next adventure. My WIP is resting… waiting... frozen in time, until it’s the right time to shine.
Family Vacations = Memories and More Ideas
I fall in love with places much easier than I fall in love with people. As a historical fiction writer, many of my earlier ideas are from books. I’m finding myself more and more inspired by places than anything else. Hawaii- with its less than perfect history; Charleston, North Carolina- home of uncountable hauntings and ghost sightings; or Istanbul, Turkey home of the Spoonmaker’s Diamond. These places are filling up my coffer of story ideas.
Adoption, Injured Geese and the Patience of Publishing
I’m not one to handle disappointments, rejections, failures, etc. stoically, or even well. I look at my daughter today – this daughter who is the perfect one for me at the perfect time. I know that those stacks of NOs from publishers that I am collecting are not really nos, but just not yets.
Frau Friedl in Real Life
Frau Friedl deserves so much more than the few chapters in which she appears in Diamonds in Auschwitz. Unlike many of the artists in Terezin who were afraid to draw the true conditions and afraid to sign their name to anything incriminating, Frau Friedl encouraged the children to draw what they saw, what they felt, what they dreamed of. Four years later, she smuggled over 4,500 drawings in two suitcases out of the camp.
The Living, Breathing Streets of Prague
I knew nothing of the city, nothing of its people or its experience during World War II. But as the story unfolded itself to me, starting backwards in Auschwitz, reversing in time to Terezin, the origin became obvious to me. It’s more than a place. It’s a living, breathing part of the story.
This book is dedicated to the porch swing
I’d love to tell you some heart wrenching story about how her piano teacher inspired me or encouraged me or motivated me. But in truth, it’s very simple. My book would never have been completed without her. Or rather, without her porch swing.
The True Tragedy of Rachael
In truth, it sickens me to think of what I had to write, but I had to write the truth. As awful as it was to put into words, and as awful as it will be to read, it needs to be remembered.