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Nadine Feldman, Author

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Help! One of My Characters Has Hijacked My Blog!

May 30, 2012 by admin

Don’t mind the banging sounds. Nadine’s not hurt or injured. I just wanted a turn to speak, so I put her in a closet for a while. No, not that kind of closet, mind you, not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’ll let her out sooner or later. I just have a few things to get off my chest.

I’m Claire Malone, and I’m the official bitch in The Foreign Language of Friends. I’m the least favorite character for most readers, but Nadine is especially fond of me because she needed my energy to write the book. She found me entertaining. I make her laugh, she says. After today, she might change her mind, but oh, well. I’ve never cared much what people think.

I’m the one who came to her first in a sort of vision, after she went kayaking on the west side of Vancouver Island. Yes, I know, in The Foreign Language of Friends we’re kayaking in Costa Rica, but she had to move us. After all, we meet in a foreign language class, and there aren’t too many places to practice Spanish in British Columbia. I have to wonder about those visions, though. She and I both used to work in the energy industry. She wrote contracts and worked with lawyers like me. Now she’s a flaky novelist who just wants to hang out in her garden and watch rainbows. I don’t know what the hell to do about her. Hell, I bet she’s in that closet right now thinking about how she’s going to blog about this experience!

It was her idea to tip my kayak, mainly because she was so scared it would happen to her. She knew I could handle it, and she wanted to see what would happen. And you think I’m evil for throwing her in a closet for a while? Do you have any idea what it’s like to be upside-down in the water, trapped in one of those damned skirts that they put around you? Not to mention the mess that incident made of my hair.

She even gave me a heart attack, one that threatened to ruin my career. I’m 55, Nadine is 53, and her grandfather died of a heart attack at 56. You do the math.

I suppose she had a point, though. I was pretty hard-driving in those days, working too much and sleeping too little. Those jackasses at the office didn’t appreciate me. They keep calling me about consulting jobs, though. Ha! I guess that cute little Barbie doll lawyer they hired to replace me didn’t work out so well, after all. Serves ’em right. A few wrinkles and gray hair doesn’t mean I’m ready to be put out to pasture.

I wasn’t always so tough. Once upon a time I was on the mommy track with the perfect husband and two little girls. A drunk driving accident took care of that, though, and I had to take care of my children. I went back to school at night. Didn’t see them much for a while, but they turned out okay, with only a minimum of resentment.Anne, bless her heart, is just like me. Heather is the nice one. I guess she picked up some sort of recessive gene. I certainly didn’t raise her that way.

Did I mention that I’m going to be a grandma? No, that’s not in the book. That came later. Nadine doesn’t want me to talk about what happened next, but can you blame me for throwing that in? I may be a tough co-worker and boss, but I’m an old softie with my girls, and maybe Nadine will show that side of me in the next book. You just never get the full truth in the media, though. She may decide that’s not good for drama.

Some of you have been concerned about Julia, especially with the assault. Nadine didn’t want to write about it too much detail, and the verdict is mixed as to whether that was a good decision or not. She was afraid it would take the story in the wrong direction. I have to say, I think it was pretty clear that Julia wasn’t all right. She wasn’t sleeping well, and she didn’t want to talk to the rest of us about how much she was struggling. If it’s any consolation, she hasn’t gotten over it yet. She’s got a long way to go, in fact. I don’t think Nadine would mind my saying that. I also think Nadine has a sadistic streak. Julia’s a lot nicer than I am, and looked at all that Nadine heaped on her — and any woman who’s intimidated by those gorgeous, perfect little Parisian women.

Mickey? Ellen? We don’t keep in touch much these days. Julia’s the one who holds us all together, and I’m still not very good with the girlfriend thing. Ellen’s plenty strong, and Mickey — well, Mickey is a mess, but she’s the type of kid who ends up landing on her feet in spite of herself. I don’t worry about her. Much.

Nadine told our story because she was lonely. When she left her corporate job, her friends stopped making time for lunch with her. She started to think about all the ways that women get separated from their friendships — me with work, Ellen by taking care of her parents, and Mickey having her every move controlled by her parents. I confess that I didn’t care for Julia at first because she was one of those ladies who lunch. It never occurred to me that we would have anything in common, let alone become the best of friends. I guess even a cranky old lawyer like me can learn a thing or two. Don’t expect me to change too much, though. I won’t let Nadine do that to me. She’s the one in the closet, and I’m in charge now.

Happily, the people at the Next Generation Indie Book Awards thought we were interesting enough to give Nadine a finalist award in the Chick Lit category. I just have one problem with that. I’m not a chick, a girl, or your honey, sweetheart, or darling. I’ve had a great life and some success. I raised my daughters on my own and put myself through school. I’ve held my own with the toughest guys. I’ve earned every white hair on my head. I’m a woman. Got it?

Now, excuse me, I’ll go let Nadine out of the closet.

Filed Under: books, fiction, women Tagged With: book, chick lit, fiction, novel, novels, The Foreign Language of Friends, women, women's fiction

Special Announcement! Foreign Language of Friends is an Award-Winner!

May 10, 2012 by admin

I have just been notified that The Foreign Language of Friends has been named a finalist in the 2012 Next Generation Indie Book Awards, Chick Lit Category! Needless to say, I am doing my happy dance!

The link I provided is to the paperback version, which is more expensive but also a more cleaned-up version of the book. As I mentioned earlier, an e-book version is available for only $1.99.

 

Filed Under: books, fiction Tagged With: 2012 Next Generation Indie Book Awards, book award, chick lit, debut novel, novel, The Foreign Language of Friends, women, women's fiction, women's friendships

Women’s Work

May 2, 2012 by admin

My sister Amy modeling the prom dress I made.

When I was eight years old, my grandmother taught me how to knit. I started by making a belt with heavy yellow yarn, and the stitches got so tight I could hardly maneuver my needle through them. Still, I was proud of and excited about my efforts.

Over the years I learned to sew and embroider as well. Once I dressed up a pair of my sister’s blue jeans with an embroidered, multicolored Volkswagen (she owned a bug at the time). I took a couple of years of Home Ec, where I learned to make clothes. My proudest accomplishment was the prom dress I made in senior year, with lots of lace trim.

Those of us who grew up in the 60s and 70s got plenty of mixed messages. While we were learning how to do Women’s Work and make a proper home, we were also being exposed to new choices and possibilities. We learned that we didn’t have to feel tied to Women’s Work. This was a good thing, and I embraced feminism then as I do now.

I learned that engineering and science could be Women’s Work. I saw more and more women enter politics and other fields that were once male-dominated. It was an exciting, heady time.

Here’s the problem, though: I really enjoyed the traditional Women’s Work. I found it fun and relaxing to do. Yet I put it aside, seeing it somehow as oppressive, activities best left behind in the quest for a career.

For years I didn’t sew or do any kind of craft. Later, though, when recovering from a long and difficult illness, I rediscovered the delight of Women’s Work. I learned to quilt and make drapes. In working with fabric, I found healing in my body as well as my soul.

Still, once I got better and went back to work, I left my Women’s Work behind yet again.

Lately, I have found myself weary. I love to write novels, but I find the marketing difficult and tedious. In the midst of our cross-country move, I sent Blood & Loam off to my editor with the instructions to “take your time.” Sales for The Foreign Language of Friends have been flat, in large part because I’m not that consistent with the marketing. It’s still sort of a deep dark secret, actually. Other novel ideas have fizzled out. I have had to take a step back to regroup.

It is time to reconnect with Women’s Work.

Quaint Port Gamble, which reminds me of the small Massachusetts towns I love so much.

Here on the Olympic Peninsula, Women’s Work is everywhere. This past weekend we attended a Fiber and Fabric festival in Port Gamble, where women were spinning on the sidewalks, and I don’t mean with their bicycles! You can get big bags of wool, dyed or not, and spin away. It looked so relaxing, I wanted to run out immediately and get a spinner.  Groups abound, where women get together to chat and knit, spin, or quilt — and I am welcome to join.

I bought some fabric to make curtains. I picked out a quilting kit (I decided that to get back in the flow, a kit would be easier), and I bought some yarn to knit a skirt. I have a dedicated place now for my sewing machine, right by a cheerful window, and I’ve started to work.

Curtains in process.

Of course, a funny thing happens when I start doing Women’s Work. A delicious idea for a new novel bubbled up from the depths of my subconscious. It’s compelling and insistent, and I have to heed the call. Yes, my writing is Women’s Work, but to do it better and more happily, I may need to pick up the needle as well.

 

Some cool linen yarn to make a skirt!

Filed Under: Life Changes, writing Tagged With: crafts, knitting, Port Gamble, quilting, sewing, women, women's work

Woman Up

April 25, 2012 by admin

Can you feel it? It feels as though there is a new wave of feminism rising, one in which women are examining not just the patriarchal society that still tries to keep women down, but also the behavior of women within the patriarchy, where we are often our own worst enemies.

One of the popular phrases these days seems to be, “Man up!” Sadly, this phrase is often being used by women as well. It says, in essence, that if we are going to be strong and powerful, we need to be like men… and men have to be macho. It springs from the same place that uses a slang term for female genitalia to be the ultimate insult, a term that says, “You’re weak.” Much as I love me some Daily Show and The Colbert Report, even these reasonably enlightened guys throw that word around with little care. (Shame on you, Jon & Stephen!) Personally, I think if someone calls you a p*#sy, it should be a compliment. A p*#sy brings life into the world, the most sacred act on this planet.

I’m suggesting that we “Woman Up” instead. Women are strong enough to bring children forth from their bodies. Women often juggle jobs, kids, and housework, all while remaining the heart of the family. Women are half the population, and we need to hold half the power as well.

I’m seeing some extraordinary activity out there in the blogosphere and on the web about this topic. Here are just a few people who have saved me the trouble of saying some things that I had intended to:

Julie Farrar from Traveling Through writes about the Ashley Judd controversy.  Judd, as you may know, wrote an op-ed expressing her frustration at all the comments on her puffy face, assuming she had work done. Julie, along with my good friend Bella from One Sister’s Rant, examine the ways in which women hurt each other and tear each other down.

The Feminist Law Prof has scored on a couple of fronts, including the drastic things women are doing to lose weight, and a commentary as a Catholic about the Church’s fight against insurance coverage for birth control.

Mur Lafferty, who does the I Should Be Writing podcast that I have mentioned here in the past, has penned a powerful “Dear Daughter” letter that begins, “You should know that you are hated.” It is a touching, moving tribute to her spirited, inquisitive, and active child.

Barbara Hannah Grufferman, author of The Best of Everything After 50, is fighting tirelessly to revisit the Equal Rights Amendment for women. She will be marching and speaking at next Saturday’s We Are Woman March.

Our legislators are producing bill after bill to reduce the rights of women. In addition, there are other troublesome rumblings among those who would bring women back into the kitchen. One movement among evangelicals is called the Stay-At-Home Daughters Movement, which expects daughters to learn “womanly arts” but eschew getting higher education. These daughters are under the authority of their fathers until that authority is transferred to their husbands. While I have nothing against a woman staying at home if that’s what the family chooses, do we want that choice removed?

The one blessing of this reactionary behavior is that it’s bringing more women together and getting us focused. Perhaps, as we do that, we can learn better how to care for each other, to learn how to resolve conflicts with each other, and to find our collective strength. Maybe we can stop talking about someone’s puffy face or extra pounds and start finding the beauty that exists in all of us. It’s time to Woman Up.

Filed Under: politics, women Tagged With: Ashley Judd, Barbara Hannah Grufferman, Mur Lafferty, patriarchy, Stay-At-Home Daughters, War on Women, We Are Woman, women, women's rights

A Wilderness Book for Wild Women

April 17, 2012 by admin

By age 26, Cheryl Strayed had stumbled over and over again. Her mother had died a few years before, suddenly while still young, from cancer. Her abusive father left when she was only six years old. Estranged from her siblings and adrift with sorrow, Strayed had sabotaged her marriage through infidelity and drug use.

On an impulse, she picked up a book about hiking the Pacific Crest Trail and decided to try it. Impulsivity had run her life thus far and hadn’t yielded any positive results; this impulse to attempt a portion of the 2,000+ mile hike could prove fatal.

Though she did some advance preparation, there was no way that this backpacking novice could be ready for such a monumental task — and yet she went anyway.

In Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail, Strayed describes months of foot-chewing hiking, where she dealt with rain, snow, ice, and heat, often alone with her thoughts. In this remarkable book, beautifully written, she shares the healing she gained on her journey, transforming from a broken young woman to a transformed, empowered one.

Hubby resting on a Colorado hike.

I’ve never backpacked, but I am no slouch as a day hiker. Hubby and I have been known to get up early and hike all day long, especially in Switzerland. While I can’t relate to being alone for months on end, I know how the feet can hurt, especially when the toenails start falling off! I could always sit on a sofa when a needed to, though, with feet propped up so the blisters could heal, so I don’t pretend to know what it’s like to do that day in, day out for months.

Swiss hiking is also known for its excellent facilities. Restaurants pop up in the middle of nowhere so you can fill up on hot apple strudel with vanilla sauce, or, well, grappa if that’s your pleasure. Strayed, on the other hand, cooked while on the trail, eating food she carried with her. On the rare occasions she made it into town, she had to count every penny.

Strayed describes vacillating between pride in each daily accomplishment and a complete and total sense of failure. These can occur on the hiking trail, one after the other, or both at the same time. Again, I only know this from a “day trip” perspective — I understand just enough to be deeply in awe of Strayed’s persistence.

Critics have compared this book, sometimes unfavorably, to Awol on the Appalachian Trail by David Miller. In my view, Awol is a very different book. It is more trail-focused and includes all the interesting people that Miller meets along the way. Strayed’s book is more about her inner journey. The Pacific Crest Trail is less traveled than the Appalachian Trail, and the forced solitude gives Wild a deeply introspective feel as she reflects on her pain, her mistakes, and her grief.

Wild is raw, authentic, and gut-wrenching. I laughed and cried as I read it, sometimes at the same time. I gobbled it up, reading it as quickly as I could, and thinking of it constantly during those times when I had to put it down. The book satisfied me from start to finish, and good thing, too! I had run across a string of boring books lately, and I was due to find a good one.

My idea of lunch on a hike...Swiss rosti, which is like hash browns, with cheese and tomatoes.

While I wouldn’t recommend that anyone new to hiking start with such an extensive journey, I have a real affection for hiking as a way to work out personal challenges and to gain confidence. Out in the fresh air, with one foot in front of the other, one eye on the ground and one eye checking ahead for critters, we find our competence and the best part of ourselves. Strayed learned that lesson…so next time you’re thinking about a self-help book, think about lacing up some hiking boots, grabbing some poles, and heading out on a trail.

Mount Rainier, Washington State

Filed Under: travel, women Tagged With: Cheryl Strayed, hiking, Pacific Crest Trail, travel, Wild, Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail, women

Inner Mean Girls, or, Better Late Than Never

April 12, 2012 by admin

Want to be inspired? There’s a telesummit going on that is free, and even though it’s been going on for a few days, it’s not too late to register and get in on the calls. You can listen to audio replays for the next several days, too!

It’s the Inspiring Women Summit!

One of the best topics I’ve heard thus far comes from Amy Ahlers and Christine Arylo, who discuss the “Inner Mean Girl Reform School.” While they left me chuckling, it’s a serious subject for most of my gal pals, who will beat themselves up over the most trivial thing. It hurts to hear beautiful, smart, accomplished women call themselves losers, ugly, worthless, and more.

For me, the inner mean girl has been chatting away in my ear about my blog and my writing in general. She’s gotten ever more creative, purring into my ear about my lack of audience for The Foreign Language of Friends and the upcoming Blood and Loam, and wouldn’t life be easier if I found something else to do? But then recently I met a fellow writer, a local woman. I had bought her book and peppered her with lots of questions. One of them was, “Are you working on something new?”

“Of course,” she said evenly. “I’m a writer, and that’s what writers do.”

Oh, yeah, that.

So I’m going to have a little chat with my “Inner Mean Girl,” using some of the suggestions that Ahlers and Arylo provide. Then I plan to check out some of the other inspiring women on this telesummit! It’s not too late to get in on the action!

Have a great weekend. See you next week!

Filed Under: Life Changes, women, writing Tagged With: Amy Ahlers, Christine Arylo, Inner Mean Girl, Inspiring Women Summit, self-esteem, women, writing

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