I had special inspiration for this novel. I am the family historian and have traced my paternal lineage back to our roots in the British Isles. My ancestors came to America quite early and many of the men fought in the Revolutionary War. They were given land grants for their service and moved to the Carolinas. The names you see in this book are actual names of my ancestors, although the story is completely fictional. I like to think that the real Ephraim Potter shares absolutely nothing in common with my fictional Ephraim. When developing Rufus’ character, I thought it would be an interesting twist to have the older son of an affluent family to be a fanciful personality–a “wood elf” type of child. Duncan Robinson is totally a creation of my imagination, but it’s quite possible that I had at least a few strong, handsome Scottish men in my family tree! I hope you enjoy a trip through my genealogical research set in fictional form.
Monthly Archives: February 2014
Writing every day…
You hear it from every successful author: you must write every day. In the beginning, I didn’t follow the advice. I had every excuse. I was busy being a wife, a mother, a full-time employee. The house was dirty, I had to go grocery shopping, The Walking Dead was on. Suddenly, I had a computer full of half-written novels to my credit. I worried about my work ethic. Why couldn’t I finish a novel? Then I tried something new. I began writing every day. I set a goal of 2000 words a day and I must admit that some days were pretty difficult. Just like any other change to one’s habits, it got easier as time went by. Then something amazing happened. I began finishing novels! I realized that by writing every day I was staying engaged with my characters. They stayed alive in my imagination, they talked to me every day. They didn’t get bored waiting for me to find time to spend with them. You have to nurture your writing and give your story the respect and attention it deserves. So my advice? Write every day. Make an appointment with yourself. Stack the dishes, DVR your favorite shows, lock yourself away from all distractions, and write, write, write.
I’d rather be sailing….
When we were teenagers, one of my brothers had a t-shirt that said “I’d rather be sailing.” We were not sailors; the shirt was a Velva-Sheen special. I had one that advertised a women’s college, stating “50 years of Women on Top.” It took me years to figure out why everyone snickered when I wore it in gym class. Anyway, I was thinking of my brother’s t-shirt today and I said to myself, “I’d rather be writing.” Very few writers have the luxury, the fun, the outright blessing of writing full-time and supporting themselves doing it. Writing is, however, one of the few things in my life that when I’m doing it, there is absolutely nothing else I’d rather be doing. I work full-time, I am a wife and a mother, I have a house that needs cleaning. I have to carve out time to write and I look forward to those times as much as I looked forward to my birthday when I was young. My words of wisdom for the day? Find your passion–writing, music, movie-making–and never stop believing that there will be a day when you can devote all of your time and energy to nurturing it.
Coming out of the secret writer’s closet
I don’t remember deciding to become a writer. You decide to become a dentist or a postman. For me, writing is like being gay. You finally admit that this is who you are, you come out and hope that no one runs away–Mark Haddon
I started writing when I was eleven years old. We had just moved to a new neighborhood and I had no friends, no woods to play in, nothing to do. The only excitement about moving was the pool in our backyard which my father promptly had removed because he discovered a leak in the liner. It was the worst summer of my life. I began writing in a spiral notebook and hid them from my three brothers, two of which loved tormenting me. As time went by, more notebooks filled. I made friends, I became involved in activities, but I continued the secret life of a writer. Even when I married, I didn’t tell my husband about all of my hidden notebooks. Eventually he figured it out and was probably relieved that I wasn’t hiding a secret affair. I was just a secret writer. Studies have shown that the age of a first-time published author is around 42. We could blame the intricate and impossible world of publishers, we could say that life experience makes you a better writer, we could say that only people in their forties (and older) have the time to write. For me, it was the time in my life that I started accepting who I really was and lost the fear of exposing myself to the world. An old friend of mine lost his wife suddenly to cancer and I began thinking of my “hidden” novels on my computer. What if I died tomorrow? Writing was so important to me and I was so proud of my work–what if I died and no one but me ever knew that I was writer? My husband didn’t even know my passwords to open them up and publish them posthumously. So, I took a deep breath and came out of the secret writer’s closet, holding my spiral notebooks (symbolically). For better or for worse, I am a writer. Don’t run away.
Handling Bad Reviews
“From my close observation of writers… they fall into two groups: 1) those who bleed copiously and visibly at any bad review, and 2) those who bleed copiously and secretly at any bad review.”
― Isaac Asimov
In my opinion, one of the great mysteries of life is how to handle a bad review. I’ve heard it all: we should use bad reviews constructively to improve our writing, we should ignore bad reviews, we should embrace bad reviews, blah, blah, blah…
The simple truth is, bad reviews hurt. You’ve spent months, even years, turning the thoughts in your mind into a story. Hopefully, it’s a story that you like (if not, you should consider who it really is that you’re writing for) and you put it out there, hoping that everyone else likes your creation. You devour the good reviews like a jumbo sized bag of M&Ms. They feed your ego. You begin to believe that you’re the next Hemingway. Then one bad review, stops the train with a screeching halt. Like a cow stuck in the middle of the tracks, you can’t get past it. Why didn’t they like it? Why didn’t they like me?
The best advice I can give is, LET IT GO. Crumple it up in your head like a piece of paper and throw it in the virtual trash. Remind yourself why you write and for whom you write. Think about books that you didn’t like and how quickly you moved on from reading a bad book. As a writer, if you must read the bad reviews, read them and then just move on. You can’t please everyone, any more than everyone can please you.
That having been said, bad reviews still hurt. The negativity of one has the power to wipe every good review right from your memory. So I’ve developed a strategy. I have my husband read the reviews. If it’s a bad one, he says things like “They don’t know what they’re talking about” or “They weren’t even constructive, they’re just being mean.” You always need a loyal friend in your corner to soothe the hurt, to protect you from the barbs. I allow myself a few minutes of self-pity, then I turn back to my computer and keep on writing.
The best reason to write…
When I want to read a novel, I write one–Benjamin Disraeli
How often have you read a book and wished that it would have ended differently? I am still scarred by the fact that Laurie ended up with Amy instead of Jo in Little Women. How many times have you pictured a character and then the author ruined it by describing him/her differently? No, he doesn’t have long blond hair that has to be tied back with a piece of leather–no!!! This is why I write. I get to create stories, settings, and characters that appeal to me. Even though I hope (sometimes even pray) that others will like my stories as much as I do, at the end of the day I wrote what I love. Sometimes, when I miss my characters, I pull the book out and re-read my favorite sections. Sure, I know how it’s all going to end but it’s fun to spend some time with old friends.
If I don’t write…
If I don’t write to empty my mind, I go mad–Lord Byron
I remember my mom, who is an avid reader, saying once about a favorite author, “How does she come up with so many ideas?” I was keeping my writing secret at the time–you know, fear of being judged, and all that–but I knew that my mom misunderstood how a writer’s mind works. We don’t “come up” with ideas, the ideas are already there. It is a form of madness, I guess, as Lord Byron insinuates. There are stories and people and voices in our head and it’s just our job to put it down on paper. I’ve said before that I dream in full-length movies. The other night, I dreamt that I was smack-dab in the middle of an Indian war and I got shot in the shoulder by an arrow. It really hurt. Don’t be surprised if, in the future, you see a new book from me titled “Sandy and the Indian Wars.”
Sandy Huth 