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Linda Barrett

Linda Barrett

Linda Barrett

Starting Over ~ Life in the Day Camp

I AM NOT JULIA CHILD!

 

But on Sunday, I wished I were. Last time I struggled to make pecan pie. This time it was crepes. Crepes!

Two months have passed since the last neighborhood dine-in where several people host a dinner for eight or ten followed by all participants having dessert together. Everyone is expected to contribute something to either the main meal or dessert. Assignments are made by the “committee.” Very fair. But here’s my question:  Why, oh, why do I get the assignments that challenge my sanity?

Last night’s dinner had a French theme. I could have provided an hors d’oeuvre of assorted French cheeses–Brie comes immediately to mind–and fruit. Grapes, kiwi, raspberries…But non-non, I got crepes. Made from scratch. With nutella, chocolate sauce, sliced bananas and whipped cream. So let’s take this piece by piece.

A recipe was provided for the crepe. Eggs, flour, milk, salt, oil. Everything processed in a blender. So far, so good. Then came the actual “pour 1/4 cup of batter into pan, tilting to coat surface. Turn once until golden.” Friends, when the blender is filled with batter, you can’t really read the amounts on the side of the glass. So, I estimated. I poured a little oil into my non-stick 8 inch skillet and then poured some batter. Oops.

Pour, tilt, flip, Oy!

Pour, tilt, flip, Oy!

Did I say a little oil. Non, non, my friends. Too much oil! Now I realized what “brush with oil” meant. I hurriedly searched for a basting brush while the first crepe became “golden”  on one side. When I thought it was done, I took two spatulas and turned this poor little pancake over. A minute later, I slid it onto a plate. This prototype crepe had ragged edges, “golden” was questionable with all the shades of brown, and the thickness was uneven.  In essence, the crepe looked awful. In fact, it looked like another word that starts with c-r–.

My stress immediate jolted skywards. Fifty people would be looking at these crepes later on, eager to culminate their French style meal with the quintessential French dessert. Oy. Trying again, I poured off a little oil into a small dish and dipped in the ends of my non-stick brush before brushing the bottom of the pan. This time I poured a bit more batter and tilted, tilted and tilted that pan, cursing under my breath the entire time. With each crepe, I wished Julia were in my kitchen, at my stove, relieving my stress. Since I couldn’t have Julia, however,  I turned to music.

I hit random play on my CD player and immediately  BARBRA, NEIL, BILLY, ELTON and Susan Boyle had me dancing and moving, spatulas in hand. Instant stress relief!  As I continued to estimate and pour and tilt and “turn once until golden,” I began thinking the crepes looked pretty good. I stacked them, paper towel in between, until I

Crepes 002

had enough batter left in the blender for just one more crepe. Images of TV chefs deftly handling their pans filled my mind. Wasn’t I supposed to be a French chef? My crepes deserved a grand finale.

I looked up at my kitchen’s the high ceilings. I looked at the 8 inch pan. I brushed it with oil, poured the last of the mix, waited a minute and carried it to middle of the room. I hefted the pan a couple times to get the feel of it, glanced once more at the ceiling, then at the pan and…I tossed that sucker straight up. Then watched it come down and land.

Perfect!!  I’m taking a bow. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I never could have done it without Julia at my side. With confidence returned, I attacked the chocolate sauce.  But that’s another story.  Maybe next time… Crepes 004

As always, thank you so much for stopping by.  A heartfelt thanks to those of you who’ve picked up a copy of HOPEFULLY EVER AFTER. If you haven’t gotten it yet, I hope you’ll consider it. And I certainly hope to see all of you for the next edition of Starting Over.

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OCTOBER CONTEST:  To celebrate the release of Hopefully Ever After, I’m awarding prized to two people. Gift certificates for $25 and two books from the choices below. All books have been recently released from the authors of On Fire Fiction. Just post a comment and your name will automatically be entered for October’s drawing.

DeeDavis_MatchMadeinManhatten_200px

 

 

 

 

 

ARe DEBRA SALONEN 7-1

 

 

 

 

 

Celebrate copy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Starting Over ~ Fingers on the Keyboard

CHOICES, CHOICES…hands on keyboard

“I wish I’d started earlier.”

That is the lament of many authors, usually women, whose writing careers started beyond the first flush of youth…hmmm…let’s say, beyond the first flush of marriage, motherhood and other careers. This is the lament of those who had never really considered professional writing as a career until later in life.

I clearly remember several conversations with my own mother when I was a teen and thinking about the future. College was definitely on the agenda. But careers?  “Teacher, nurse or bookkeeper,” she’d said. She was not the bad guy. Her attitude was simply a sign of the times.  Four years after I graduated, my cousin Ilene started a pre-law major. So much for me being on the cusp. I’d chosen teaching and was starting my first job when Ilene began her legal journey.       nurse_cap1.gif, cuter

So, I became a teacher on the grammar school level, and soon developed Sunday night stomach-aches at the thought of Monday morning. I was a good teacher, and the kids were happy and learning, but I could not bear the thought of spending the following 25 years stressed on Sunday nights. I was definitely miscast for this important role.  But to have become a writer instead? Never thought of it. Even though I was an avid reader and my own teachers had encouraged my written work. Anyway, what kind of career was writing? No salary. Nothing to count on. I guess either the undeniable “itch” to write just wasn’t there yet or I’d never allowed it to develop.

Instead, I adapted my teaching skills to adult education and flourished. Loved it, loved it, loved it! The programs I ran helped disadvantaged adults get their GED’s, learn computer and other office skills, and successfully interview for jobs. I was doing good deeds all day long! Could any job be more rewarding? In fact, I so enjoyed seeing the these women flourish, that I felt guilty taking a salary. When I mentioned this unease to my rabbi, he just laughed, patted me on the shoulder and told me to keep on with it. So I did. And anytime I had the writing itch–which was becoming more often–I took a yellow legal pad and wrote at night and on weekends.

We make decisions every day. Some are so automatic, they barely qualify as a decision. Should I have tuna or turkey for lunch? Chocolate or file0001694764223vanilla?  On the other hand, we often make decisions with greater consequences, ones which require long thought because of those consequences. My car is old and needs repairs. Should I buy a new one? Should we relocate for the sake of a new job opportunity? The family is growing. Should we buy a bigger house?  Sometimes our decisions are gut wrenching ones which put our emotions in overdrive: Do we need a nursing home for our elderly mom?

Fortunately, most decisions are not life-and-death ones, yet some have a huge impact on our lives. In an alternate universe, I would have begun writing seriously as a young woman. The advantage of more time cannot be overstated. Time is needed to develop excellent craft skills in order to provide a reading experience so engrossing, that a reader exclaims, “I couldn’t put that book down! Finished it at 2 a.m.”  This is the reaction all authors aim for. But that kind of writing doesn’t happen overnight. The apprenticeship doesn’t pay the bills, either. So I’ll pretend that in my alternate writing universe, that money doesn’t matter 🙂

I take comfort in the fact that James Michener didn’t write a word before he was forty years old. Why? According to him, he didn’t have anything worthwhile to say!  Imagine that. Now there are libraries in his name at the University of Texas and Colorado. I guess he made up for his “late” start.

I admire Janet Evanovich. She didn’t start her terrific and hugely successful Stephanie Plum series until she was past fifty. She’d written other works–romance novels under a pen name–before bringing Stephanie, the bounty hunter, to life in One for the Money. I really identify with her timeline!

In the end, however, I have to believe that for everything, there is a season. Whether it’s the season for raising children, maintaining a secure day job to pay bills or writing full time. When I measure my writing journey, all my experiences seem to fit in. I loved doing those “good deeds” with my students while having the energy to be a weekend writer. Maybe my earlier years were not wasted after all. Everything is working out just fine.

Are there decisions you would change in your life?  Leave a comment and we’ll share with each other.

As always, thank you so much for stopping by. I hope to see you for the next edition of Starting Over.

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P. S.  For the curious –  here’s a picture of the cover of my very first book, published in 2001:

Debut novel - very exciting time :)

Debut novel – very exciting time 🙂

 

Starting Over ~ A Book Club Evening

IN THE SPOTLIGHT–                

From my own book shelves, authors Emily Giffin, Bridget Asher, Barbara O'Neal

From my own book shelves, authors Emily Giffin, Bridget Asher, Barbara O’Neal

“I just love this type of book!”

When I heard those words at my book club Tuesday night, my heart sang. I felt myself smile. The woman was talking about MY kind of book. The kind I read and write. The type that appeals to women, explores family relationships, and provides an emotional ride based on a what-if reality. What if your child isn’t on the school bus at the end of the day?  What if you discover your husband has been having an affair? What if you find out you and your husband can’t have children?  What if a couple decides not to have children but one of them changes their mind? (Baby Proof by Emily Giffin).  What would you do in these situations? You can safely find out in the pages of a book as you struggle along with the characters who are facing these issues.

I love the James Bond stories. But, c’mon. Half the fun of James and his ladies is the eye candy. As for the plot – we  ride in the most nifty cars escaping the bad guys. It’s a hoot to watch, but then we go back to our everyday issues in our ordinary world.

Except sometimes a woman’s ordinary world is rocked, and that is the premise for the genre I’ve been talking about here: Women’s Fiction. In these novels, we follow the female protagonist’s journey through rocky waters as she navigates to her next plateau. Sometimes, a love interest might surprise her. ( Open House by Elizabeth Berg). She might be surrounded by a “cast of thousands,” — relatives, neighbors, co-workers — but it’s basically her story.

More from my shelves: authors Kathryn Shay, Barbara Delinsky and Elizabeth Berg.

More from my shelves: authors Kathryn Shay, Barbara Delinsky and Elizabeth Berg.

On Tuesday evening, I had a special interest in the book club discussion. The group–about twenty participants–had read Family Interrupted. My novel.  Disclaimer: the choice was not my idea. A few months ago, a new book list was being developed and boom! It was included. On the other hand, I didn’t nix the suggestion. As the proverbial fly on the wall, I thought I’d get some insights and discover how readers truly reacted both to the story itself and to the writing. Maybe I’d learn lessons I could apply to my next book.

Well, the fly-on-the-wall idea worked for about the first fifteen minutes. I kept my mouth shut, didn’t make eye contact with anyone, and actually wondered for how much longer I could play the part of a robot. It’s really hard trying to avoid eye contact for that long especially when sitting in a big square formation with people to the right, left and across.

I had wanted to disappear, have the gals to forget I was in the room and just listen as they talked about book. What a dumb idea that was! First of all, it didn’t work. After fifteen minutes, I joined the conversation. We were talking about family issues, after all, and I have opinions, too. I’m used to participating every month. Second of all – and this is more important – I sensed that these readers wanted me involved. This seemed logical to me. After all, how many times would a real, live author be present at these meetings? How many times would these readers be able to ask questions directly to the author of a book they’d just read?

So away we went. Some of the discussion followed the questions I’d provided at the back of the book. Why did the characters do this or that? Questions were raised about the story couple’s marriage. Readers wanted to know how I came up with the idea. And one admitted, “You made me grab for tissues several times!” Good. An author wants to tap into a reader’s emotions, wants the reader to care about the characters.

The question that came from me, the one  I always love to ask is, “What do you think happens after the book ends?” We actually talked about a sequel which amazed me because I’d never had that in mind! As an author who worries about everything, and who knows the issues I had to confront when writing the book, I asked a question that no one else considered important at all. “Did the verb tenses work? Did you get confused as time flashed back and then back again?” Verb tenses ate my lunch as I wrote the book (which is one reason I hire an editor). And yet,  here in front of my eyes, these gals laughed at me.

So I learned once more that a good story wins every time. And that I worry too much. I don’t think, however, that I’ll ever stop.

This one's also on my shelf! And in my e-reader.

This one’s also on my shelf! And in my e-reader.

As always, thank you so much for stopping by. I hope to see you for the next edition of Starting Over.

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P.S.  I’ll be sending out a newsletter on October 3rd.  If you’d like to get it–right into your in-box–you can sign up for it here on the website.