Nadine Feldman, Author

celebrating strong female characters and whatever else strikes my fancy

memoir

The Lure of the Resolution

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As we count down the last minutes of 2009 and wait for a certain glittering ball to drop in Times Square, many of us are jotting down resolutions. Once again we renew promises to ourselves, and even if we have a tendency to break them as early as January 2, the lure of the resolution still tempts us, draws us in, gives us new hope of possibilities.

Generally, I don’t have resolutions, though I do like to have a focus for the coming year. For me, weight loss and other such resolutions never seem to work. When I focus on my dreams, though, I find resolutions…some might call them goals…to be effective. What about you? Do you make resolutions for your dreams? If so, how do they work out? Are there any you want to tweak for 2010?

Here’s a little summary of how 2009 worked out for me, along with my hopes for 2010:

As I write this, it appears that I will keep my promise to finish Blood and Loam by this coming Saturday. After 20 years, I’m calling it done! This means that 2010 is the time to start querying. Normally I prefer being my own publisher, but I’ve decided, at least for now, to try the traditional route with my first novel. If not, well, you’ll be hearing me podcast it later in the year.

At the beginning of 2009, I didn’t realize that I would have a completed editing project in my hands. Patchwork & Ornament, originally meant for family only, grew into a full-fledged book. Quickly. On a whim, I threw together the first ten pages and a synopsis and submitted it to the Texas Writers’ League Manuscript Contest. When I say threw together, I mean it. I had barely finished reading the journals, and most of what I would end up using lay in an unsorted pile on the floor when I entered the contest…and yet, it became a finalist! Go figure. With the final book in hand, I began to seek reviews, and we just received our first one from Feathered Quill, 5 stars on Amazon!

As with Blood and Loam, it looks like 2010 will require effort on my part to let people know that the book exists. I’ve done several news releases already, but it looks like I’ll be rolling up sleeves to write some articles as well.

I have made the decision not to reprint When a Grandchild Dies, but I will keep it alive online through pdf and audio formats. I love technology! I promise in 2010 to update the Resources section, which is now available free online at www.gal-in-sky.com/When a Grandchild Dies Resources Page.html.

So, looking at 2010, it appears that the first part of the year will be focused on marketing two very different works. I’m in the midst of moving, so current plan is to start the new novel by March at the latest. I also plan to finish and podcast Exodus (still need a final name, darn it), which I will offer as free content on the gal in sky site.

I hope that everyone reading this blog has a happy, healthy 2010! May your resolutions come to pass and all your dreams come true!

The Mysteries of Timing

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This morning I read in the U.S.A. Today about the movies Invictus and Up in the Air, both new releases with interesting timing. Invictus details Mandela’s ascension to the presidency in South Africa, providing interesting parallels to the Obama presidency. Up in the Air tells the story of a corporate downsizer–but took six years to make, so its release during economic difficulties suggests a certain serendipity. Julie Powell’s new book Cleaving shares details of her marital infidelity as she achieved a certain celebrity status. With mixed reviews, Cleaving could get a boost from the Tiger Woods saga.

For years now, I have struggled with writing a novel. Other projects have come and gone. My hair is grayer, my middle thicker. I’ve gone to workshops in hopes of being laughed out of the room, only to get encouragement for my work. I hired someone to critique my novel, and she said it was one of her most enjoyable projects ever. Yet all would agree, including me, that the novel needs more work. I’ve written before about my elusive villain and how his motives slither toward and then away from me. The relationship between me and my novel has been a dysfunctional, love-hate roller coaster. I don’t quit because yoga has taught me the importance of exploring difficult, seemingly impossible poses. It took me two years to stay balanced in half moon, so why not take longer with a 400-page tome, if that’s what needs to happen? I keep making up reasons I should quit, but none of them are good. So I keep going.

While writing, I continue to read. Right now I’m into Gabriel Garcia Marquez: A Life by Gerald Martin. I like Garcia Marquez’s work. I love magical realism, and my novel is filled with it. Turns out that his masterwork, 100 Years of Solitude, took years to write and originally existed as a manuscript called The House. Mind you, I am not comparing myself to Garcia Marquez–but as I read his biography, I am reminded that all books come in their right time, and sometimes decades.

We as artists cannot control this timing. Sometimes, as in the case of Invictus and Up in the Air, the timing brings additional interest in and commercial success to a project. Sometimes, the timing causes troubles and heartache, as in movies that were pulled after 9/11 because their content hit too close to home. Sometimes the timing requires the writer to gain maturity and perspective in order to give the project what it needs.

Yesterday I gained some glimpses into solving some of the problems with Blood and Loam. I cut two chapters and one character, with ideas on how to convey the information through my villain…which will allow the reader (and me) to understand him better. I don’t know if this will be the last draft of the work, but I do know that I am getting close to resolving the issues that have kept me from submitting it. I don’t understand the mysterious ways of timing, though I do understand that in many ways I created my own suffering through all the stops and starts over the years. I don’t know if this book will be a commercial success or failure, or if it was just meant for me to heal some inner wound. I know that finishing this novel is just the beginning, because then I need to think about agents, editors, query letters, and, if someone takes on my work, more revisions. But after all these years, I am starting to understand the story that wants to be told. And that, after all these years, is deeply satisfying.

Special Promotion for Patchwork and Ornament

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Patchwork and Ornament arrived yesterday! For those who don’t know, P&O, by Jeanette Feldman, is an artist’s memoir written in a collage-style format of short essays, stories, and poetry. She tells her story of growing up in poverty in the South Bronx with an immigrant mother and disabled father. As her interest in art unfolded, she found a new and happier life filled with love, travel, and creativity. P&O includes several full-color photographs of Jenny’s work and was recognized as a finalist in the 2009 Texas Writers’ League Manuscript Contest (under the name Pentimento).

This is a labor of love, and we are honoring Jenny Feldman’s memory with a special pre-release promotion. From now through December 31, we are selling P&O for $18 (plus tax and S&H). $10 of every sale will be send to Donorschoose.org to support arts in the schools. Everyone wins! P&O will not be available to the general public until early 2010, so you get a fascinating story before everyone else, and at the same time we all support a worthwhile organization.

I believe that Jenny Feldman’s life would have been very different (and not in a good way) had she not had access to an art education. In addition, we believe strongly that an education in the arts benefits all students.

For ordering details, please visit www.patchworkornament.com. Feel free to share this with everyone you know!

Thoughts on Self-Publishing

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Back from vacation, I’m trying to figure out where I left off with my various projects. Exodus is ready for fresh eyes, as is Blood and Loam. There’s also the updated version of When a Grandchild Dies. I also explored a few new ideas while I was gone, and one of those is ready for some good ol’ uncensored creative writing.

Most exciting, though, is that Patchwork and Ornament, Jeanette Feldman’s memoir, is on its way. As with When a Grandchild Dies, I am both excited and nervous. Part of me says, “What was I thinking?” Initially, P&O was meant purely for family, as a way to preserve my mother-in-law’s writings and art in book form for future generations. Still, I couldn’t let go of the nagging thought that others outside the family might find it interesting as well. When I handed the manuscript over to others, expecting a quick, cursory “that’s nice,” I found that readers didn’t want to put it down. Still, as the books make their way from Canada to Houston, I know that the real work has just begun.

As I go forth to market this book, I am aware of strikes against it. We all know that self-published works tend to be dismissed as being of poor quality, especially now when anyone and everyone can put a book out there.

Here’s the thing, though. As part of my research into this market, I read some of those self-published works. One in particular grabbed my attention. The author didn’t bother to get the book edited, and it was filled with typos and other errors. It had a plain cover, just a single color with an uninteresting title. Yet when I read it, I found it a compelling read, and I let go of my editorial eye as the story swept me away.

Maybe I part company with some of my writer friends, but I believe that the one prerequisite for putting a book out is to believe in it. I learned that from When a Grandchild Dies. Bookstores didn’t want me to come in to hold signings because “it might depress our customers.” Bereavement organizations aimed primarily at parents didn’t want me speaking, because the parent/grandparent relationship can be rocky. Even at a conference for bereavement professionals, one therapist told me, “I saw the subject of your book and almost didn’t come over to talk to you because I’m a grandparent, and I can’t imagine anything more devastating.”

In other words, getting the word out to my audience, the bereaved grandparents, wasn’t easy. I had to work hard and persist to find speaking opportunities and ways to find the people who needed the book. Yet I did so, and WGD has done well.

WGD is a self-published book. Ten years later, as I work on updating it, I know I’m a much better writer than I was then. Although I’m still pleased with the book overall, some areas need substantial improvement. Yet I have received enough letters from people who read the book to know that my efforts are appreciated. Had I waited for a traditional publisher, I might still be waiting yet today, and those grandparents and other family members who benefited from WGD would not have received the help they needed.

I agree that writers should take care that their book is of high quality by utilizing editors, cover designers, etc. We should try to elevate our work to its highest and best potential. However, we should not hold back our ideas because they might not sell, or maybe they’re not “good enough” somehow. One never really knows what’s going to sell anyway! Also, although I am pleased with WGD’s sales, that has never been my measure of success with the book. The lessons I learned, the growth I achieved, and the knowledge that I helped people in the process is what matters most to me.

Patchwork and Ornament is a different kind of book. It doesn’t have the specific niche that WGD has. That will make it both easier and harder to market. That said, I have done my best with P&O to make it beautiful, and I will do my best to find its audience. That’s the best that any of us can do–and it is what we must do, whether or not there are naysayers.

Sometimes You Need a Pizza

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We’re nearing the end of our monthlong travel odyssey. Today we visit Aix-en-Provence, and tomorrow we travel to France’s Grand Canyon. Saturday we return to Geneva, where we catch our plane home on Sunday. I love to travel–and I also love to go home.

Our stay in Provence has been a pleasant one. We are in Menerbes, perched high on a hilltop, with great views from our apartment. From there, we zip around easily to the spiderweb of towns that surround us, some in the hills, others in the valleys. We have traveled tiny roads where we sometimes need to back up to let another car through. We have visited the summit of Mont Vontoux, where nothing grows because of le mistral, but is made famous by the Tour de France and therefore qualifies, for Henry, as almost a religious experience. We visited wineries, and in one instance found a wine-grower who speaks the Queen’s English (his father Parisian, his mother British).

Picasso once owned a home here in Menerbes, which he gave to one of his lovers, Dora Maar, an artist, photographer, and poet in her own right. Dora was his muse for some of his better-known paintings. She lived until 1997, and her home is now used as a retreat for writers and artists. The selection process is administered by none other than the Museum of Fine Arts in Houston! It is indeed a small world. For any writers reading this blog, it’s well worth checking out as a possible retreat spot.

Then there is the food. As I write this, Henry is at the boulangerie, picking up the day’s supply of fresh croissants and baguettes, just out of the oven and still warm. We have found several restaurants favored by locals, with reasonable prices and delicious food. Since it is fall in Provence, pumpkin often appears as a side dish, either in a soup or a sweet potato-like affair, mashed and seasoned.

The best deals are the fixed-price meals, where one can get a salad or appetizer, a main dish, and a dessert. These combo meals are based on what the chef can get fresh at the market, and the prices beat the individual items on the menu by far.

Still, after all these fabulous meals, I have moments when I long for the simple, the familiar, the known. Last night I announced that I was sick of multi-course meals, that I needed pizza. In Provence, that is easier said than done. The pizzeria in town was closed for the day (every restaurant is closed one day a week, and is sometimes closed even when it’s supposed to be open). We knew of a recommended pizzeria in nearby Isle Sur La Sorge, but alas, it was closed, too. On our way to another restaurant that we knew had pizza on the menu, we found a tiny pizzeria in Coustellet. When the waiter scolded us for ordering red wine with our pizza (I quickly switched to rose, which is quite good here in Provence), I knew we would be okay.

Provencal pizzas are different from Italian ones, but I consider this a good thing. When my veggie pizza arrived, filled with zucchini, eggplant, and black olives, I still felt like I was eating real Provence food.

Today, as we resume our touring, I think I’ll go happily back to the fixed-price meals. For now, I am satisfied with a bit of home, with the simplicity of a single course.