Old News, New Stories and Back-of-the-Book Blurb Friday #56

Forgive me bloggers, because I've slacked. 

It's been a week since my last post.

Oh, I could whine about why, like

• I procrastinated finishing my future daughter-in-law's Christmas stockings (a bridal shower gift) until the last minute.
• I procrastinated working on my students' mid-quarter reports until Monday.
• Monday evening, I planned on working on my mid-quarters once The Voice was over. Unfortunately, I fell asleep watching The Voice on Monday, long before the last battle round ended, which meant I'd have to finish the school work on Tuesday.

That--my procrastination--is old news.

As far as the new stories, I went to a Listen to Your Mother cast meet-and-greet last night. Each of the writer-performers got up and introduced themselves. Each woman told a little about what their story was about, along with what their first record album was, what their three favorite movies are, what their first concert was, and the most important question: salty or sweet.

There's a rehearsal tomorrow, so if I don't slack next week, perhaps I'll share some great phrases or snippets from the stories. So far, I know that there's a story about someone who had "the meanest mother" and a story about motherhood that began by fostering a child. One of the women could be a stand-up comedian--she's that funny just when she's talking off-the-cuff.

The afternoon St. Louis show is almost sold out, so if you want a ticket for that one, you'd best get it soon. For tickets, go here.

And now, onto book blurb stuff.

Look at the photo below. That is the cover of your book. You choose the genre. A book on the history of statues? A how-to book from Bob Ross? He turned over in his grave over some recent paintings, and now--risen from the dead--has turned to sculpting. You decide.

Write an enticing blurb--150 words or less. (The title doesn't count in the word count.) Blurbs are those enticing bits that prod you into buying the book. Sometimes they're on the back cover of the book. Sometimes they're on the inside front cover. What they always try to do is lure you into purchasing the book.

Lisa Ricard Claro was the original creator of this writing challenge. However, she's been busy for the last few years. Currently, along with all the books she juggling in their pre-published state, she's also preparing to move--to the beach--which means she and her hubby are going to have to go into the witness protection program, otherwise Linda O'Connell will hunt them down and became a squatter* in their spare bedroom. (By "squatter," I don't mean Linda will squat down because of a too-full bladder, I mean she will move in and won't move out until the police come for her... she loves the beach that much.)

Include your blurb in a blog post. Include a link to this post. Also, link your post to Mr. Linky. Mr. Linky is easy. If you've never done it, you'll be impressed with how simple he is. And then, check out the other blurb(s). It's interesting to see the different directions writers take, given the same photo.

Here's the book cover, along with my blurb:

   

photo by pixabay

Rufus the Crabman

Rufus Leaking loved the beach and wading in the water along the shore. He spent hours exploring the shells and the sand.

One summer, he snuck a hermit crab into the family station wagon. Rufus yearned for a pet, and Herman seemed like the perfect one. The little boy dreamed of the fun he’d have with the tiny creature. They’d watch Spongebob and Finding Nemo together. They’d listen to old Herman’s Hermits records. They’d have crabwalk races in his room.

Somewhere between Sarasota, Florida and Provo, Utah a horrible stench filled the car.

It seemed Herman had scuttled his way to the big beach in the sky.

Later, Rufus invented a tank that would keep a crab alive on a cross-country trip. With his product, there’d be “No more dead Hermans.”  Hopefully Mr. Wonderful will like his business plan… because Rufus and Herman #17 are scheduled to make their pitch. (150 words)

So, I have the same questions for you:

1) What's your three favorite movies?

2) What was the first record/8-track tape/cassette tape/CD you bought?

3) What was your first concert?

4) Salty or sweet?

And just for Val, here's the photo for next week:

photo by pixabay

A Phone Call, an Audition and Back-of-the-Book Blurb Friday #49

This week I had an incredible encounter on the phone.

For months (literally) I have been emailing and calling a man who works at the National Museum of African American History in D.C. His grandfather typed up a 10-page first person document of a bit of our history that we've swept under the rug for almost a century. I've seen the cover page on the internet:  its yellowed pages and faded ink taunt me.

This man's voicemail box quickly filled up; I could no longer leave a message. My emails remained unanswered.

Yesterday I called during my prep period, figuring it would be another bit of momentary frustration. Miracle of miracles, he answered.

We spoke. Since he has donated his grandfather's document to the museum, there are several of his colleagues who would love access to it. He said he would check with the curator, he suggested some books, and I was left encouraged... and hopeful.

And the audition? I got an email this week--I am one of the 30 writers chosen to audition for the Listen to Your Mother St. Louis Show. Three of my writing critique partners--Linda O'Connell, Lynn Obermoeller and Kim Lehnhoff--also made the cut. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that all four of us make it.

And now, onto book blurb fun...

Look at the photo below. That is the cover of your book. You choose the genre. A time travel tale, where a fun-loving group of hooligans try to reenact Thelma and Louise's trip? A how-to book explaining how to refold travel maps?  You decide.

Write an enticing blurb--150 words or less. (The title doesn't count in the word count.) Blurbs are those enticing bits that prod you into buying the book. Sometimes they're on the back cover of the book. Sometimes they're on the inside front cover. What they always try to do is lure you into purchasing the book.

Lisa Ricard Claro was the original brain behind this project. She's got her own editing business. She's gotten a multi-novel publishing deal... and now that those three books are out, she's working on more. Check out her site. You'll enjoy her posts and you'll learn something.

Include your blurb in a blog post. Include a link to this post. Also, link your post to Mr. Linky. Mr. Linky is easy. If you've never done it, you'll be impressed with how simple he is. And then, check out the other blurb(s). It's interesting to see the different directions writers take, given the same photo.

Here's the book cover and the blurb:

photo by pixabay

Back in Time… Into the Darkness

Because of technology, amazing things now happened.

The iphone 27 has time-traveling capabilities. With a swift swipe, the camera captures what the person--or the scene--looked like decades ago.

A couple wants to remember what they looked like on their wedding day fifty years ago? Just aim the phone their way, and there the bride and groom would be, their unwrinkled faces smiling in the screen.

A family wants to recall what their family neighborhood looked like when they moved in ten years ago? An easy feat with the new phone.

The police are even using them to recreate--with 100% accuracy--a crime scene. There’s no need for security cameras now. Just make the correct time setting, point and shoot… and they can see who did the shooting.

But now the phone’s being used for sinister purposes… it’s being used to do heinous things. And there seems to be no stopping it... (150 words)

And for those writers who like to work ahead and toil on their reviews (like you, Val), here is the photo (from Pixabay) for next week:

I DO Hate These Dogs... A Submission... and What Information Can Spit Share With Us?

         I do. I hate chihuahuas. They're little. They're yappy. And I tend to trip over little dogs. 

       However, my sister's dog Chloe (a rescue) is part chihuahua and part terrier/mystery dog, and she's awfully cute and beguiling. She has longer legs (from the mystery DNA) than most chihuahuas, and is an odd-looking pooch, with all the wiry wisps sprouting up here and there.

       It's probably the quirky that gets me. I like things odd.

       A couple of days ago I sent off my "Listen to Your Mother" submission. Now it's out of my hands. The deed's been done. All I can do now is wait until late-February or whenever for the decision about who makes it to the audition phase.

      And on Saturday I got a DNA kit in the mail. You know, from Ancestry. That site that's advertising on the TV all the time. I've read the directions. All I have to do is spit into a tube and send it off.

      According to the story my biological mother told the adoption agency, my biological father was from Greece. Now, if you know what I look like, you might wonder if she said, "He was from Greece," or if she instead said, "He's from grease," which might have meant what? They loved fried chicken? They had french fries floating around in a deep fryer all the time? I'm not sure, but considering my skin's as white as notebook paper, I think I missed out on the Greek part.

      The Native American part, too. The biological family I was able to track down (my birth mom died when I was 9) claim there's a Native American branch in our family tree. The last name--Gann--makes me think of Scottish/Irish.

      I think it takes 6-8 weeks (or longer, because of all those commercials causing a flood of customers), but soon, I'll be able to say more than, "I don't know. I'm adopted," when someone asks, "Where is your family from?"

So, what have you disliked but later opened your mind up to?
Are you submitting to your local Listen to Your Mother show?
And have you done the DNA/ancestry testing thing? If so, what was the most surprising thing you found out?

Five Reasons Why You Should Listen to Sioux About the "Listen to Your Mother" Show

1. Sioux doesn't lie--at least not about this. Now, when I was pulled over last spring for going 78 in a 60, I did lie (by omission) and didn't open my mouth and say the truth, "It was a reeeeally good song on the radio. It was Uptown Funk," when the officer asked why I was going so fast. At least he was a nice guy and only wrote it for 70...

You should submit a piece to the Listen to Your Mother show. They're only taking submissions until February 17 in St. Louis.

2. They're open for submissions. Right now. Like, this minute. At least they're open in St. Louis. Writers around here--check it out. (Cathy and Lisa--check out the details for the Atlanta show.)

3. You're treated like you're royalty when you're in a Listen to Your Mother show. In St. Louis, the three producers-directors treated us to dips and chips and cookies (oh, my!) at the rehearsals. We guzzled mimosas the day of the show. We reunited in the summer for a BBQ when the videos hit YouTube. 


4. You might get some swag along with the notoriety. In St. Louis, we each got a new pair of designer shoes. The whole cast went to a shoe party and drank wine, nibbled on snacks, got massages, and tried on shoe after shoe after shoe. 

While at the shoe party, I held a shoe execution. My daughter and granddaughter (both quite stylish and both haters when it comes to my Crocs) came to the party and--as promised--witnessed me cutting up with scissors one of my favorite and well-loved ratty-looking pairs of Crocs.

I'm willing to do the same thing this year if I end up being part of the show. Which pair of Crocs might be heading toward the guillotine? Check out this beauty:

        And before you get to salivatin' over these stylish kicks, don't get too jealous. Yes, they're fancy Crocs knock-off Crocs, what with their swirly pattern. I know they're extra-special because they were purchased from the Five Below store (where everything is $5 and less). No, they don't have straps any more. Those were cut off a long time ago. And yes, these Crocs are sneaky as crocodiles. They look stylin' on top, but the soles have several holes. Hence my willingness to part from them... forever.

5. You don't have to have had a June Cleaver mother in order to tell your story. You could have had a good-for-nothin' mom. You could have been a rotten mom. Or dad. Google "Listen to Your Mother" videos on YouTube, and get inspired... 

      ... and then submit.

Bring Along Your Best Weapons...Plus a Giveaway

        On Saturday I went to the St. Louis Listen to Your Mother show. Two writer friends were performing. Little did I know that a breathy, unknown-to-me storyteller would make me cry.

         She brought to the stage her best ammunition:  her story. It was told honestly and simply, and chronicled getting a lung transplant from a young man named Kyle.

         On Sunday I found a copy of one of my favorite books, George R. R. Martin's Fevre Dream. I found it at my favorite bookstore, Half Price Books (the Delmar one, baby--the fifth-largest one in the country!). It made me think of the battle that takes place in this novel (which is soooo much shorter than his G o T books).

        If I tell you there are vampires  in this book, don't be instantly dismissive. I don't read Anne Rice's novels (although perhaps I should). I definitely never did the Twilight books. Fevre Dream does have a vampire as a main character, but the story is so much more than thirsting after blood. It's the riverboat trade, indigo plantations, and a friendship between a riverboat captain and vampire.

        I'm currently working (yes, still) on my WIP that's affectionately called my NIP (nightmare in progress). I hope I'm bringing my best ammo when I sit in front of my laptop. There's a part in Pat Conroy's South of Broad that brought my first-of-several epiphanies while working on this female-dog of a project. I thought I knew exactly where it was in Conroy's novel, I thought I noted the page number somewhere, I thought I remembered it clearly enough to mirror one single Conroy-crafted remark in my manuscript...

       But apparently not, because now I've resigned myself to rereading the book and putting the page number on a billboard--'cause I don't want to prove true the "third time's a charm" phrase.

       I began this piece of writing with several for-sures. I knew for sure who the main characters were--the WWWPs. I knew for sure how it would end. And in the writing, things have changed. The characters have become fictionalized, and the ending is not what I was planning on.

       It seems the characters are in the driver's seat, not me. 

        If you tell me what is your best weapon as a writer (you can interpret that any way you want), your name will be put into a hat (a literal one; I don't know how to do those random-whatevers) for a copy of Fevre Dream. I'll draw names at the end of the month.

Taking a Risk

          Reading Mary Horner's recent post--about taking a risk and sharing with students/the audience--made me think of writers who share themselves in their writing.


         Some of my favorite authors--Anne Lamott, Augusten Burroughs, Rick Bragg, Mary Karr--are writers who share ...everything. They're brutal. They cut themselves open and lay bare their bones--all the skeletons in their closets come clattering out.


          In May I joined a dozen or so other St. Louis writers for the Listen to Your Mother show. We got up on stage and shared our lives. Some of what we shared made people laugh, and other stories made the audience cry. Almost always I lead with my funny bone, but this time, I didn't.




https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a5yGkJP7Sy8


          If you click on the link above, you'll be able to see me in all six minutes of my splendor. However, consider yourself forewarned. The photographer was ill on the day of the show, and so some of the videos got screwed up. In real life, people often mistake me for Halle Berry, so when you see someone who looks quite different from that, understand: the camera guy had problems...  

        Speaking of risk (again)--I'm friends with some writers who willingly share all sorts of things on paper, and yet when it comes time to share their writing with a live, breathing audience, they hesitate balk. These are writers whose talents are wickedly amazing ...and yet many people miss out on enjoying their gifts because of their reluctance to share at book signings and other events.


        Was there a time when you shared with an audience/family member/friend and the results were encouraging? Perhaps if my shy writer friends hear stories that ended up on a positive note, they might share the next time they get a chance...


       

The Power of Our Words

       Do our words matter? Does anybody read the lines we write down?

       I did a guest post at The Muffin, where I pondered the power of our words. Here is a link, in case you have a few spare minutes and would like to peruse...

http://muffin.wow-womenonwriting.com/2014/05/friday-speak-out-power-of-story.html

These are some of the writers who shared their story
at the 2014 Listen to Your Mother St. Louis show.
My guest post at The Muffin tells about something that happened
to me right after the final show...

Punching Over a Piece of Cake

        When my brother and I were growing up, our mom regularly baked cakes and batches of brownies. Inevitably, we'd end up with one last piece of cake or one solitary brownie left.

       And every time, my brother and I would both want that last portion of dessert.

       My mother settled the problem in the only equitable way, and she didn't learn it from her mom. My mom was an only child, so she must have dreamed up the perfect solution on her own.

       My mom would have one of us divide the piece of cake or the brownie in half; the other one would get to choose first. It alternated. When it was my turn, I would get a mental ruler in place, because I didn't want to give my brother an extra crumb. Neither one of us ever complained, because it was extremely fair.

      What advice or lesson did you learn from your mom that stuck with you over the years?

(This is a picture of my birth mother, Imogene Gann, who taught me a completely different lesson than my mom, a lesson that changed my entire life. When the "Listen to Your Mother" videos come out on Youtube, you'll have to watch mine to find out how she changed my life.)

Checklists--Doin' Them Sioux-Style

      

My manuscript--it's been read by the four other WWWPs so far,
plus Smeagol the cat (who chewed on the corners and found it not as delectable as it should be).

 
         Aaah, checklists. They're ever so helpful, especially when you can accomplish lots of items on the list and you get the satisfaction of checking them off.

         Check.

         Check.

         Check. It feels so good.

         But what happens when a checklist goes awry. What happens when the checker is a little delusional? Worst of all, what happens when the person with the checklist is Sioux?

         Egads!

        Check out my guest post at The Muffin this week, to find out all the mayhem that happened when I created a checklist.

        And, it might not be too late to get your tickets for the St. Louis Listen to Your Mother show. There's live jazz music, shopping (a tractor trailer "thrift store" set up in front of the building) and lots of reasons to laugh (and cry). If you're free on Saturday (10:00 or 2:00) go here so you can celebrate Mother's Day with us early.

      

Barefoot and Brave

      Last night, I went to the first rehearsal for the St. Louis Listen to Your Mother show. This is how I envisioned it:

                 Each of us would get on stage, one by one, in front of the microphone, and read our piece, while the rest of the group sat in  the auditorium and served as the audience. When it was my turn, I would keep my fingers crossed that I didn't trip across the floor or knock over the music stand. We'd get some feedback. We'd get to know each other a little. And then we'd get headed home...

      That is not quite how it went. All of us sat on the floor on the stage--in a circle--while we took turns reading our stories. Some made me tear up. Some made me chuckle. They all moved me. While we passed a box of tissue around--several times--we all thanked god for waterproof mascara.

      The women I was sandwiched between both took their shoes off. As I listened to each tale, I occasionally glanced down at their toes. Those two women had beautiful feet. Their toes didn't resemble a desert scene.  They were healthy-looking. Their toenails looked perky. (Since these ladies are both decades younger than I am, their toenails haven't gotten thick and yellow, to the point that they look more like hooves than nails.)

          (I did everyone a favor and kept my shoes and my socks on.)

      Sharing your story takes courage. Baring your soul takes bravery. For the next month or so, I'm going to bask in the camaraderie and courage that swirl around these women.

     And if you are in the St. Louis area and would like to hear some incredible stories on May 10, get your tickets soon. (They sold out last year.)

      By the way, a writing friend and one of the founding members of the notorious WWWP writing critique group, Tammy, just got some fabulous news. (Tammy writes the kind of prose that makes some writers in her critique group hate to follow her. Sometimes we scratch each other and pull each other's hair, vying for a spot before Tammy, so we won't have to paddle behind in her wake...)  She is one of the six (count 'em--6) finalists in the Reader's Digest 100 word essay contest. This is a competition I didn't even contemplate entering, because I can't imagine (me) writing anything of substance in just a few words.

      If you're from the typewriter era, read Tammy's post and travel back in time.
     

      

Be Prepared

     Last year I submitted an essay, hoping to be part of the Listen to Your Mother show in St. Louis. My piece didn't even get a nibble. What was with that?

      So I went to the show, did some undercover work as a spy, and found out the show consisted of all stories. Not an essay in the bunch. And during the show, as I listened to the moving stories, I sobbed and snorted. And I got more determined...

      I did my prep work. I found out what kind of writing they were looking for.

      This year Listen to Your Mother opened for submissions in January, and after getting my story critiqued by the WWWPs, I sent it off a few days after the submission period began.

     I prepped. I polished up my story and made it as shiny as possible.

       I waited. And waited. And when they emailed me, telling me I had made it through the first hoop, that I was going to get to audition, I worked on paring my story down a little. I read it aloud. Lots. I took out the word "inexplicably" because I knew I'd trip all over it.

      I continued to prepare...

       On the evening of my audition, I brought along a big QT cup full of tea...because I knew I would get parched and nothing would be within immediate reach. I peed...because I'm fifty-something and never pass up a bathroom. I got there extra early, so I could sit and practice and relax.

         I prepared by getting as much in place as I could.

        Decisions would be made at the end of the week, we were told. They said we'd hear either way. I certainly hoped I would make it, but I was prepared to get the "Thanks but no thanks" email.

          I hoped for the best but prepared for the worst.

          This time (for me) being prepared paid off. I got an email yesterday congratulating me. On May 10, I'll be part of St. Louis' 2nd annual Listen to Your Mother show.

           So, St. Louis friends--save that date. And get your tickets now. Last year they got snapped up fairly quickly...

           What was the best (or the worst) advice your mother/grandmother/aunt ever gave you?

     

        

Listen to These Writers...And Happy Mother's Day

       I went to see the St. Louis show for Listen to Your Mother yesterday. Even though I had submitted a story and had not been chosen, two of my writing friends had been chosen. And since Lynn and I were the only WWWPs (Wild Women Wielding Pens) who were in town, we had to represent our critique group.

      'Cause that's what writers do. We support each other...

      One woman--a young mother--came on stage gorgeous and looking quite "normal." However, she shared her story of having a mother who was anything but normal. Her mom spent her time--instead of with her family--in a bar. This writer (she was like 9 or 12--some too-young-for-this-ugliness age) would take two buses to go to the bar and try her convince her mother to get her a@@ off the barstool and come home.

      She now has several sons, a husband, and worries constantly since she was never taught how to be mother...how can she be a loving mother to her boys? The answer: she tells them every day, many times a day, "I love you." (Lynn and I sat next to these boys. They are well loved.)

      Linda O'Connell shared a story she had never shared with her critique group. Lynn and I had the pleasure of hearing it for the first time, like the rest of the audience.

     Kim Lenhoff--despite claiming she was nervous--got in front of the auditorium and told about raising an autistic, bi-polar son. Because she has the courage, perhaps others will...She was afraid her knees would knock in nervousness, and I told her I was looking forward to them knocking so much, she would start a fire. What a way to add excitement. Sadly, Kim + no sign of fear = no inferno.

      Another writer--made us all sob. She suffered through many miscarriages, and when she finally was able to give birth to twins, it was because her Japanese-born (late) mother had helped her "catchee baby."

      Happy Mother's Day. For those who are fortunate enough to still have their mother with them, call or hug them. For those who are lucky enough to have children and grandchildren, enjoy the day. When the Listen to Your Mother writers took a bow at the end of the show, I took a picture with my phone. Because of their movement and my photographic skills, they're a blur of motion.  But it makes me think...My story blurs into your story which blurs into her story, which blurs into his story. We all have heartbreak and joy in our lives. 

      We all have a story to tell...

Where is That Darned Horse?

      I recently submitted a piece to "Listen to Your Mother." They're doing shows in 24 cites. Stories were due by February 15, and yesterday, it was announced who would be making it to the audition phase. The live show is going to be in May.

photo by createsimona

      I had a prior committment (nothing major--a mini workshop that was non-work related) on March 2. Since that is one of the audition days, I decided I was going to have to cancel on the mini workshop. After all, a chance to speak out as a writer took precedence. At least I thought so.

      Checking my email yesterday, I got a message from the "Listen to Your Mother" folks that had "Thank you" in the subject line.

       Thank you?  That doesn't sound good. That sounds too much like "Thank you, but no thanks."

         Whoah, Nellie. It seems I had put the cart waaaaay before the horse. Apparently there were 60 pieces and only 30 were chosen. My piece was one of the rejected ones. At least, I wouldn't have to cancel on my mini workshop. At least I wouldn't have to drum up support for the show. (The proceeds from the ticket sales helps out a charity.)

        And I won't have to set aside that day in May for the show, either I thought to myself.

        Whoah again. Two writing friends, Linda O'Connell and the infamous Kim have made it to the audition phase. Most decidedly--if they are part of the show, I will be there to cheer them on. (I'll even refrain from heckling, though it will be hard. That will be my "gift" to them. Linda knows what a sacrifice that will be for me. I'll have to put my anti-SD on.  What does "SD" stand for, you ask? The "D" stands for disturber. I'm leaving you to figure out what the "S" stands for.)

       'Cause that's what writers do. They support each other. They celebrate their friends' publications, even when they themselves have been rejected.

        (Kim and Linda--I'm keeping my fingers crossed.)