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It really does make me happy to know that people are still reading and enjoying Keowee Valley. To read the review, go here. And if you're looking for new reads, I highly recommend following her blog!
Showing posts with label debut novel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label debut novel. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
New Review at Book-alicious Mama
It really does make me happy to know that people are still reading and enjoying Keowee Valley. To read the review, go here. And if you're looking for new reads, I highly recommend following her blog!
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
Historical Novel Review
After a 5-day family bout with the stomach flu–which put me in the hospital for fluids and meds–I’m happy to report that things in my house are headed back to normal.
Whatever “normal” means in a house where the mama is 35 weeks pregnant, the daddy works from home (poor guy), there’s a 3 1/2 year-old on Spring Break from preschool, and an athletic but severely exercised-deprived (and therefore incredibly bored) black lab.
Today, though, a light!
The lauded Historical Novel Review has posted a new review of Keowee Valley! Check it out here.
I hope everyone had a lovely Easter weekend, and you’re all healthy and happy as we head into Spring.
Whatever “normal” means in a house where the mama is 35 weeks pregnant, the daddy works from home (poor guy), there’s a 3 1/2 year-old on Spring Break from preschool, and an athletic but severely exercised-deprived (and therefore incredibly bored) black lab.
Today, though, a light!
The lauded Historical Novel Review has posted a new review of Keowee Valley! Check it out here.
I hope everyone had a lovely Easter weekend, and you’re all healthy and happy as we head into Spring.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Bet Your Bottom Dollar
This morning I'm channeling Annie. Yes, the curly-red-headed gumshoe orphan from the 1982 film.
When I was four years old, I was entranced by Annie and her Daddy Warbucks world. My mom bought me an Annie wig, I dressed like her, and I staged musical numbers in the living room of our house in Greenville, South Carolina. Anyone who came over--babysitter, aunt, parents' friends, the mailman--was subject to a performance.
It didn't matter that I was Annie's opposite: Southern, very much NOT an orphan, freckle-free, with blindingly white-blonde hair. When I put on that wig and belted out "Tomorrow," I was Annie.
Here. Remember?
The kid even inspires FDR. She's amazing!
So.
The reason I'm channeling Annie is this: as most of you know, my very first novel, Keowee Valley, comes out tomorrow. I dreamed the impetus and details of the novel for years before I put it to paper. I researched for six months and wrote and rewrote for another year and a half. I queried literary agents for about four months (we're talking pages and pages of printer paper, stamps galore, and, finally, four offers of representation amid the nearly 200 rejection letters). The nail-biting decision on which agent to choose. Then, the agony of waiting to find a publisher ... three years of it. And, finally, an offer from a publisher I've come to thoroughly like and admire. Another year plus until publication.
Anyone want to count the years from writing to publication? I wouldn't. It's terrifying.
But tomorrow, my novel will be published.
When I say it's hard to believe, I'm not making it up. Lately, I've existed in a state of numbness, hardly believing it to be real. I've pushed aside any excitement in order to simply deal with the myriad details of my busy life.
And, if I'm honest with myself, the thought of people--strangers and those I know and love--reading Keowee Valley makes the nerves jump beneath my skin.
I know, of course, there will be some readers who love it. Most likely my mom. Okay, hopefully more than just my mom.
There will be some readers who simply like it, or feel neither this way nor that about the story. There may be even some who expected more from me, and didn't get it.
Gulp.
And then, there'll be those who hate it. Who think that I can't write my way out of a paper bag.
Those will sting. Ain't gonna lie. And I've never had the thickest skin. But I hope--I plan--to be like the turtle, and let the water (and the negativity) just roll off my back.
My graduate advisor at the Vermont College of Fine Arts this semester, the incomparable Connie May Fowler (How Clarissa Burden Learned to Fly, Before Women had Wings), told me this about bad reviews in a recent letter. I don't think she'd mind me sharing:
Do not allow small, inconsequential things to mar your joy over this success. The publication of your novel is an achievement NO ONE can take away from you. It’s a monumental achievement and it will cast a love-shine on all the days of your life. So glory in it!
I love her.
And I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that the sun'll come out tomorrow, the day of my publication. And it'll be good.
Bet your bottom dollar!
When I was four years old, I was entranced by Annie and her Daddy Warbucks world. My mom bought me an Annie wig, I dressed like her, and I staged musical numbers in the living room of our house in Greenville, South Carolina. Anyone who came over--babysitter, aunt, parents' friends, the mailman--was subject to a performance.
It didn't matter that I was Annie's opposite: Southern, very much NOT an orphan, freckle-free, with blindingly white-blonde hair. When I put on that wig and belted out "Tomorrow," I was Annie.
Here. Remember?
The kid even inspires FDR. She's amazing!
So.
The reason I'm channeling Annie is this: as most of you know, my very first novel, Keowee Valley, comes out tomorrow. I dreamed the impetus and details of the novel for years before I put it to paper. I researched for six months and wrote and rewrote for another year and a half. I queried literary agents for about four months (we're talking pages and pages of printer paper, stamps galore, and, finally, four offers of representation amid the nearly 200 rejection letters). The nail-biting decision on which agent to choose. Then, the agony of waiting to find a publisher ... three years of it. And, finally, an offer from a publisher I've come to thoroughly like and admire. Another year plus until publication.
Anyone want to count the years from writing to publication? I wouldn't. It's terrifying.
But tomorrow, my novel will be published.
When I say it's hard to believe, I'm not making it up. Lately, I've existed in a state of numbness, hardly believing it to be real. I've pushed aside any excitement in order to simply deal with the myriad details of my busy life.
And, if I'm honest with myself, the thought of people--strangers and those I know and love--reading Keowee Valley makes the nerves jump beneath my skin.
I know, of course, there will be some readers who love it. Most likely my mom. Okay, hopefully more than just my mom.
There will be some readers who simply like it, or feel neither this way nor that about the story. There may be even some who expected more from me, and didn't get it.
Gulp.
And then, there'll be those who hate it. Who think that I can't write my way out of a paper bag.
Those will sting. Ain't gonna lie. And I've never had the thickest skin. But I hope--I plan--to be like the turtle, and let the water (and the negativity) just roll off my back.
My graduate advisor at the Vermont College of Fine Arts this semester, the incomparable Connie May Fowler (How Clarissa Burden Learned to Fly, Before Women had Wings), told me this about bad reviews in a recent letter. I don't think she'd mind me sharing:
Do not allow small, inconsequential things to mar your joy over this success. The publication of your novel is an achievement NO ONE can take away from you. It’s a monumental achievement and it will cast a love-shine on all the days of your life. So glory in it!
I love her.
And I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that the sun'll come out tomorrow, the day of my publication. And it'll be good.
Bet your bottom dollar!
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