Nadine Feldman, Author

celebrating strong female characters and whatever else strikes my fancy

writing

How to Make Magic, One Strawberry at a Time

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Years ago I had the great fortune to live on the Olympic Peninsula in Washington State. I had a spacious yard and created a big garden, complete with fruit trees. A large old fig tree came with the house, and I added four apple trees, a plum tree, and a pear tree.

It was magical.

I learned quickly, though, that “magic” doesn’t happen without “hard work.” Some plants needed to be moved to a different spot. Sometimes I had to get up at dawn to remove worms from the apple trees. There was endless weeding, composting, deadheading, and pruning to be done. I’m not complaining, though. I loved it!

We don’t often equate “magical” with “hard work.” Yet in the garden, or on farms, both of these exist side by side. Since I live on the East Coast now and no longer grow my own food, I visit some of the local farms and “pick your own” to bring me back to the joy of the harvest.

This photo does not do the place justice. I’m looking at an overview of the strawberry fields.

One of my favorite places is Fishkill Farms, where varieties of fruit roll one into the next. The strawberries are nearly finished, but the raspberries are coming in. Blueberries won’t be far behind. In the fall I’ll pick apples for applesauce. I’ll never tire of watching seeds becoming plants and then bearing fruit. It’s nothing short of miraculous!

The farm is beautiful, with undulating hills filled with fruit trees and mountain views. Each week when I visit, I am reminded of the magic and miracles of growing things…but I also know the hard work and diligence that goes into creating this magic. Farmers put in long hours for not enough pay. One has to do this work for the love of it.

As I finish The Factory Girl and the Fey and prepare it for its next step, advance reviews, I have experienced magic throughout the process. This book has engaged my imagination as no other before…and yet the magic emerges in part because of regular, sustained attention to it, with lots of revision and editing and waking in the wee hours because I understood how to change something that wasn’t quite working. It has meant many revisions, multiple rounds of editing, and a bit of insomnia. The “fruit” will be ready for harvest in the fall.

My farm visits replenish my spirit, providing a kind of active rest for the brain, one strawberry at a time. I find peace there in between my own bouts of hard work, giving me fuel to continue. I am grateful to the committed farmers who work so hard to make all this magic, which then helps me make mine.

Daffodils and New Beginnings

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They are peeking up through the soil, these first beacons of hope for a spring after a long winter. I don’t want to wish my life away, but I dream of the day soon when vivid yellow blooms dot my largest garden bed. Right now it’s a blank slate, but after the daffodils come, it won’t be long before other green shoots emerge from the ground.

Don’t be fooled by the delicate flowers. Daffodils are tough. In my case, they survived when I didn’t get them all out of the ground in the summer. The ones I did, I forgot to replant in the fall, so they were stuck in a box in the garage. Doesn’t matter. The ones in the ground are quite happy, and the ones in the box were already sprouting, just waiting for me to tend to them.

Last week I sent The Factory Girl and the Fey to my editor for the last time. The past three months have been intense as I have combed through it over and over again, answering her questions and filling in more detail to the story. As of today, it’s the best I can do without her sharp professional eye.

Winter was the perfect time to work on the manuscript. With all the snow and cold, the last thing I wanted was to go outside, though I stole some walks on better days. Now that it’s spring, what do I plant, both in the garden and in my writing life?

There are two manuscripts vying for my attention. One has been through a few drafts and a developmental edit of the first 50 pages. The other is a rough draft, about 65 pages of initial thoughts. One is a plant that needs repotting, the other is a tiny seed just starting to sprout.

This week I will choose which to work on. Both are equally compelling to me. But one thing I have learned from daffodils, is that whatever I do will probably be just fine.

What are you planting this spring, whether in your garden or in other areas of life?

If you like this blog, please consider purchasing one of my books listed on my homepage. Thanks!

Daffodils in Vase Image by Michi-Nordlicht from Pixabay

Off to the Editor! Now What?

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Jane the Factory Girl is back with the editor! I’ve worked on this story for five years now, and I can finally see the finish line! No doubt I’ll need to make more changes, but the story is finally where I want it to be. I’m thrilled to have gotten this far.

I’m not sitting around eating bon bons while I wait, though. I have another manuscript that has waited quietly in the corner for me for a couple of years, and I just finished reading through it. The working title is On Her Own Terms, but that will likely change.

OHOT tells the story of Elaine, age 60, who wants to take her hobby of sketching and painting to the next level — to try to sell her work. At the same time, her husband has decided to jump into politics and wants her at his side. Add to that a daughter who’s used to dropping her son off unannounced. Elaine’s going to have to assert herself to those who are used to her being at their beck and call. She’s going to have to learn to take her own work seriously so others will, too.

It’s time for Elaine to take a chance.

Reading through the draft, I was struck by how far along it is. While it needs work, there are no major plot holes. The pacing is pretty good, too. Mostly it needs a more well-developed setting, and a bit more details on the appearance and mannerisms of the characters.

I’m not sure why I stayed away from it for so long when it’s so close to being done! But what matters, I suppose, is that I’m working on it now.

I’ve resisted the idea of seeking a publisher. After all, it’s pretty easy to get a book out there. It’s also harder to find an audience this way, though.

Some wonderful writer friends have encouraged me to try to get a traditional publisher. They have publishing deals, so they understand the ins and outs. I’m thinking…maybe…possibly…not sure…I might give it a go with OHOT. I mean, why not? Maybe, like Elaine, I’m ready to take a chance.

A Writer’s Life is Many Lives #WDC18 #amwriting

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As I come off this year’s Writer’s Digest Conference, I am thinking about how fortunate I am. I get to do work that I love, and when I spend time around other writers, I am among incredibly generous and supportive people. As author Steven James said during his “Story Trumps Structure” workshop, we are in a rare business where people who could be our “competition” come and share everything they know. He likened it to Apple going to Google and sharing all their secrets.

The magic, of course, is that there is  no competition. Each of us has a unique story to tell, so the more of us the merrier. We don’t have to elbow anyone out of the way.

Back home, I am once again immersed in my projects. For one, I am reading about artists, particularly female and self-taught. Think Grandma Moses as one of many examples. I’m also learning to draw and watercolor. I’m not doing this because I want a new hobby, though I suspect I’ll keep at it because it’s fun. No, it’s a way to understand my main character better.

While I continue my research for that novel, I am living (in my mind) in late 19th-century Scotland. This story idea has sent me to Scotland twice and the old mills of Lowell, Massachusetts; introduced me to proletarian novelists such as Elizabeth Gaskell (think contemporaries of Dickens); and introduced me to genealogy.

When I wrote What She Knew, I studied the victims and perpetrators of the Madoff Ponzi Scheme. I was fascinated with the movers and shakers of Wall Street and what would happen if one of them actually grew a conscience.

In short, as a writer I get to live many lives. I get to play dress up and try on new identities. I get to peer inside the heads of my characters, who I grow to love as if they are real people and real friends.

This is a good life. A happy life. A fulfilled life. Last week I met a lot of wonderful writers who share this journey with me, and I am looking forward to getting to know all of you better.

 

Happy New Year!

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Hello to anyone who might be reading! It’s been so long since I blogged that I don’t know if anyone is still out there…but here I go anyway.

I don’t normally get too excited about a new year. I am not one for a list of resolutions. But this year I sprang out of bed with hope and joy. I’m not alone. As I cruise social media, I see a lot of posts where people are willing to entertain the thought that this can be a good year.

Last year I stumbled a bit. Though I kept on working on two different novels, I lost motivation to reach out consistently to readers. Part of it is my own life: we are moving cross-country yet again, and finally sold a house that’s been on the market for a long time. We are scheduled to close January 31, so the end is in sight.

Though I won’t get into politics in this blog, I also found myself depressed and deeply concerned about the state of our country. Regardless of what side of the political aisle we are on, we are ever more aware of the flaws in our system that must be addressed if we have the courage to do so. And that’s all I’m going to say, I promise. But in this past year we have also seen an energized electorate as people recognize that we must stay engaged…and that gives me hope.

Despite all of this, I continued to write, to do my work. I will write more about my projects in future posts. What I have learned is, whether or not there is a market for my books, I have to write. It’s how I do life. It’s how I stay reasonably sane.

If you haven’t “liked” my Facebook author page, I invite you to do so. I do minimal promotions, and mostly write about books I am reading or other odds and ends. Visit me at https://facebook.com/NadineFeldmanAuthor. I’m also on Twitter at @Nadine_Feldman.

Thanks for reading, and happy new year!

Happy New Year! #IWSG #amwriting

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It’s the first Wednesday again, and time for the next monthly installment for the Insecure Writer’s Support Group. This is where we writers provide support and encouragement to each other. Join us!

Thank you to this month’s co-hosts: L.G. Keltner, Denise Covey, Sheri Larsen,  J.Q. Rose, Chemist Ken, and Michelle Wallace. And of course, a special thanks goes to our fearless founder and leader, Alex J. Cavenaugh! I hope you’ll visit their blogs in appreciation for their contributions to our merry band of writers.

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January 2, 1996…twenty years ago. My then-husband and I woke up with the flu. Since we were both sick, there was no one to take care of us, and it was a nasty bug.

Three days later, he went back to work, still ailing but better. For me, though, the story was different. I didn’t get well. Day after day, week after week, month after month, I woke exhausted, my body alternating between freezing cold and burning hot, my lymph nodes swollen, my digestion disrupted.

The eventual diagnosis of CFIDS (Chronic Fatigue and Immune Dysfunction Syndrome) didn’t help, as the cause is unknown and the path to treatment unclear.

During the months in bed, I had a lot of time to think. All my life I had wanted to be a writer but always let life get in the way. Now, with my brain addled and little ability to concentrate, I wondered: was it too late? Did I squander my chance?

I don’t often “bargain” when I grieve, but this time I did. Make me well, God, and I won’t forget.

I was one of the lucky ones. Eventually, I did get well…and I didn’t forget my promise. In 1997 I found The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron, which helped me get started. In October 1999 I published my first book, When a Grandchild Dies: What to Do, What to Say, How to Cope (the link is for the 15th anniversary edition).

The life changes that resulted were extraordinary, and here I am all these years later, proud to be a novelist who has completed her second novel and sent it off to industry reviewers. There’s another novel in draft form, and I am swimming in ideas for more books.

More than anything, writing has made me more whole, more authentic, happier. As a side note, when I met my current husband, I gave him a copy of When a Grandchild Dies…it made him want to get to know me better.

It took a debilitating illness for me to wake up and live. It took that moment in time, twenty years ago, when I no longer had the choice to ignore who I really was. Every day that I can write, that I do write, is a remarkable gift. Yes, writing is hard. Yes, it’s frustrating sometimes to find readers. Yes, reviews can be upsetting.

But to be writers who do not write…that is a tragedy.

My hope for you, my fellow writers, is that 2016 brings you joy, peace, health, and a wealth of ideas to explore. May you find readers who resonate with your words. May you look self-doubt and insecurity in the eye and say, “Thanks. I’m doing this anyway.”

How was your 2015? What are your dreams/goals/plans for 2016? Do tell!

What She Knew is now available for pre-order! I hope you’ll take a look. *