Nadine Feldman, Author

celebrating strong female characters and whatever else strikes my fancy

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Writing Surprises

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One of the reasons I write is for the sheer surprise of it all.  The work never turns out the way I think it will. I noticed this for the first time several years ago when I had returned to school and was given an assignment. We were to read an academic work, report on it, and then “re-vision” it, which meant writing the essence of the work in a different way. I had chosen a book of philosophical arguments made by astrophysicists about the existence of God.

Yeah, I know. I’m a geek.

Anyway, as I re-visioned the work, I imagined writing some lofty spiritual tome to counteract the often-atheistic conclusions of the scientists. I had drafted the work and was rereading it when one little sentence caught my eye, a sentence that changed everything. I had mentioned, almost in passing, that there were no female astrophysicists quoted in the book. I did a little research and learned about several women who had made exciting and substantial contributions to the field. I learned about them and their beliefs, then wrote an imaginary dialogue. It turned out to be a lot of fun…because I was willing to be surprised and to follow an unexpected, tantalizing thread.

Now I’m having the experience again. I’ve been working on Exodus (a short-hand, working title), which includes essays and weekly meditations. Only they’re not meditations anymore, because I find that people get freaked out about meditating. Now they’re musings, which–I hope–creates a more playful, relaxed, innovative environment for people. The whole book is taking on a much more playful tone. This feels a bit odd, since a story of plagues, death, and Charlton Heston as a grand and magnificent Moses seems hardly the fodder for childlike explorations. But I’m going to follow it and see where it leads. Why not?

The Trite and True

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As writers, we are always looking for new ways to describe our characters and their situations. Our first readers often point out the various cliches that manage to slip into our work, despite our best attempts to avoid them.

Sometimes, though, a trite expression, metaphor, or phrase is exactly what we need in a given moment…not in our writing, but in our lives as writers.

Yesterday was a tough day for me. Self-doubt permeated my thoughts. I began to wonder about Patchwork and Ornament: am I overestimating its marketability? Do I have what it takes to get the book in the hands of those who would enjoy it? Am I squandering family money to cover printing and marketing costs? In short, what was I thinking?

Deep in a stereotypical writer’s funk, I went out with my husband Henry to a coffee shop where I could sort out my feelings. We talked for a long time, pouring yet again over my ideas for the book, the progress we’ve made, the layout and cover that are coming together, and all the various places I could market the book. Not to mention that every time I put a draft of the layout into people’s hands, they don’t want to put it down!

We returned home and got ready for bed. As I was falling asleep, I remembered something important about my creative process: it’s always like a birth.

This is where the trite meets the true. Birthing metaphors are as old as, well, the hills. Still, it brings me comfort to understand what’s going on. I’m seven months into this pregnancy. I’m heavy and tired, and my feet hurt. I wonder if I’ll be a good mother. I wonder if my child will be unruly. I worry about a stillbirth.

Years ago, I gave birth to a little girl. She had died in my womb, which is another story for another day, but I went through the full birthing process. I was terrified. I was at seven months, about the same place I am now with Patchwork and Ornament, and I didn’t know how to breathe yet. I had just gotten started with my classes, so I felt helpless and frightened. At one point I looked to my husband at the time and said, “I don’t think I can do this.” Yet a few minutes later, I felt her move through me and into the world where I could see and hold her. And oddly, even in a tragic moment, I felt joy. This was my daughter.

The closer I get to completing book production, the more I feel like that frightened, much younger woman, who said, “I don’t think I can do this.” Yet what I learned from my daughter is that yes, I can do this, I will do this, and in the end I will feel joy.

Trite? Maybe. But it works for me, gives me strength, reminds me that hanging on when I don’t think I can always brings a greater reward. Very soon I will hold a brand-new, colorful, vibrant baby in my hands and begin to carry her into the world.

Recommendations

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I thought I would take a moment to pay tribute to someone who influences my writing life on a regular basis. Mur Lafferty, whose “I Should Be Writing” podcast offers a wealth of resources and inspiration. Mur generally writes sci-fi and fantasy, which are not my cup of tea, so I almost blew off the podcast at first. However, despite its slant toward those genres, ISBW can help writers of all kinds. Today I went to the gym, strapped on the iPod, and let Mur help me work out my writing issues while I sweated on the stair climber. Can’t beat it!

Not only does ISBW provide support for writers, but it also demonstrates by example how to use podcasting and other new media to market our books. Like many writers, I find that the marketing aspect gives me the heebie jeebies, and Mur and her various guests lead the way in tapping into the power of new media.

One of the best things we writers can do is to find those who hold the lanterns and lead the way for the rest of us. Listening to her show, I feel less isolated and more a part of that great tradition of writers who toil away, always looking for ways to become better writers…and to learn better how to share what we’ve written with others.

For anyone who’s interested, visit www.ishouldbewriting.com, or look up I Should Be Writing on iTunes.

The Exciting World of Online Permissions

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Ten years have passed between the printing of my first book and the upcoming printing of Patchwork and Ornament, and a lot has changed! I’ve had to research independent publishing all over again to make sure I’m up with the technologies and possibilities. This week, I think I found my book printer, and they even have a cool program so you can upload your files and make sure they are compatible with their systems.

But the real excitement came today! In the book, Jenny (my late mother-in-law, for those joining these blogs late) quoted the poet Yehuda Amichai. I had two choices: delete the poetic reference, which wasn’t completely necessary, or get permissions. When I published my first book, I had to get a lot of permissions, and it wasn’t always a pleasant experience. I remember having some rather nasty back and forth with one publisher that wanted control over my entire text before I decided just to drop the reference.

Still, the Amichai lines, while not essential to the story she told, did add some lovely flavor to the essay. I flipped to the back of the book for the publisher’s website and went online. Lo and behold, you can do these things instantly now! I filled out a form, paid $14, and presto, my printer spit out a license for my records. Instead of waiting weeks or months for permissions, mine took about ten minutes.

What a cool time we live in.

Juggling Acts

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Saturday afternoon we went to see Cirque du Soleil, my first experience of this wonderful treat. For a few hours we were enthralled by acrobats, clowns, mimes, music, and jugglers. At times there was so much going on onstage that I couldn’t keep up. My eyes darted from one character to the next, back and forth, trying to take it all in.

Sounds a lot like life.

Last week we made the sudden decision to try to buy a house, and now we are in the midst of negotiations. On the one hand, I am thrilled to think that we might have a home of our own. While I love our rental–it’s spacious, bright, and roomy–it’s not mine. On the other, I worry about all my projects.

Here I am, about 75% complete on P&O’s book layout but dealing with the most difficult part, the images. Over the weekend I discovered that I will need to do some unexpected additional work to prepare for When a Grandchild Dies reprints. I’m struggling to find nooks and crannies of time to work on Exodus. Now I’m getting ready to clear out clutter and pack up a three-bedroom house?

Sounds a lot like Cirque du Soleil.

So I get through it like I always do. I set up lists. I re-evaluate all of my self-imposed timelines to see if anything can be moved around. I try to nibble at everything at least a little bit every day. I keep up with my yoga practice, which calms me down and gives me fresh ideas for how to make everything work. And I remind myself that even the best juggler drops a ball now and then.

How Much Independence is Too Much?

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Last night I tossed and turned, worrying about my book layouts. I’ve been zipping along, learning the ins and outs of Adobe InDesign, and I’ve been pretty pleased with my results so far. And those who know me can attest that I am fussy about what my work looks like. So all along, I’ve had confidence in my ability to do a nice layout. And I like doing layouts. Learning new software appeals to my geeky self, and sometimes I even alter the text a bit to make it more aesthetically pleasing.

However, I have images to take care of, and this is new to me (as is Photoshop). Morever, these images are of my late mother-in-law’s art, and she was very particular about color. I want to represent her work in the best possible light. And last night I met someone who knows what he is doing, and I began to doubt myself. Hence the tossing and turning.

Here’s the problem: I am not visual. In order for me to know what I want, I have to set it up myself, so even if I hired someone, I would go through this entire exercise just so I could say, “See, this is what I had in mind.” I also know that my eye is pretty good–I have seen books put together by “professionals” and knew that I could do a better job.

I respect my independence, but I also know that it gets in the way sometimes, that I could get better at asking for help from time to time. I’m trying to find the balance, which of course, is the ongoing theme of my life! I’ve decided, then, to do the best I can, and then hire a designer to mop it up, and in particular, to help with the images. This feels good. I still get to play with all the toys, but then I get to share–and to make sure I haven’t done anything stupid.