Taylor Swift: Secrets of a Songwriter

My first Taylor Swift book, Taylor Swift: Love Story (Triumph Books) is out, and I’ve already received good reviews from readers. I’m currently writing a second Taylor book, this one concentrating on her songwriting. Taylor Swift: Secrets of a Songwriter is the working title. It will include back stories on most of her songs, as well as more information about her songwriting partners and a bunch of new info I found on her former summer home in Stone Harbor, New Jersey. Plus the Grammys and her upcoming film Valentine’s Day.

My Interview with Jane Hamilton

Author Jane Hamilton ponders: If everyone’s a writer, who will be readers?

http://www.pioneerlocal.com/oakpark/entertainment/1764291,entertainment-west-hamilton-091709-s1.article

Taylor Swift: Love Story

Great news! I have recently been contracted to write a biography of country/pop super star Taylor Swift for the pre-teen/teen market.  The Scholastic book will come out early 2010. I am already knee-deep in my research on Taylor. If you have any information on her you think I might miss, let me know by making a comment below. The more material, the better!

Short story featured in April Issue of Faith, Hope & Fiction

One of my short stories, State of Gray, appears in the April issue of Faith, Hope & Fiction, an on-line  literary zine.

Check it out here: State of Gray

The Writer’s Toolbox

On Feb. 27, I served as the guest speaker at the 9th Annual Young Authors Project sponsored by the Friends of the Fox River Grove Memorial Library in Fox River Grove, IL. It’s a fabulous program that encourages children to write. There are no “losers”  here–Everyone who participates receives an award and goodie bag. It was an honor to speak to these bright-eyed children about my experiences as a writer.

Borrowing an idea from Stephen King’s On Writing memoir, I focused my speech on the Writer’s Toolbox. Talent is only one skill a writer needs to succeed, I said, and I asked the children to come up front and pick something out of my toolbox. (A real toolbox on loan from my 3-year-old son, who made me promise to bring it back). Several parents approached me after my talk to say they too found value in my speech. These attributes are applicable to any profession:

Passion: You must love what you do. If you want to succeed as a writer, you must love to write. You must love the words, the page. You must lose track of time. It feels like a minute, when it’s been only an hour.

Dedication: You may not have much time to write each day, expecially if it’s still your hobby. But you must dedicate time to the craft. You can’t call yourself a writer if you don’t write.

Trust: The one person you must trust is yourself. The words and ideas may not always flow, but trust that you will always find a way to get them from mind to page. 

Patience: Good writing takes time. It cannot be rushed. Every time I sat down to write my novel, I thought “I’ll never be done with this.” But one day, I was able to write ‘The End”. Writing should be part of your day, like eating or sleeping. You don’t eat dinner and think “Great, now I’m done with eating”.  You eat everyday, and write every day, to sustain yourself.

Support: You must fall back on the support of not only your family and friends, but writing communities. I am a member of two writing groups because I need other writers to cheer me on and set me in the right direction through critiques. Writing does not have to be a lonely profession.

Humility: You are not the best thing to happen to writing, and you can always improve your craft. You should be proud of your work, but never so much so that you cannot accept criticism or find ways to expand your skills. Keep reading books about writing, attend conferences. Look at your writing with a keen, skeptical eye.

Finally, I showed the children the book I’m currently reading, “Water for Elephants” by Sara Gruen. “Good writers are good readers,” I told them.  If you want to succeed at writing, keep reading.

“The End”:Thoughts on finishing a novel

“Finishing a book is just like you took a child out in the back yard and shot it.”

Truman Capote hit the nail on the proverbial head here.

I admit, his words create a haunting visual. When I shared it in conversation with several non-writer friends, they responded with confused, uncomfortable expressions (Think gas pain). But I believe most writers could understand my fascination with this quote. The desperation. The loss. It’s the “child” metaphor that strikes me so deeply.

Earlier this year, I completed my novel, In the Middle of Things. Finishing a project I had been working on since August 2006 (and much, much longer in my mind) I expected to feel relief and happiness. But it was all bittersweet. I went through a sort of post-storydom depression: I conceived this story, carried it inside me for longer than 9 months gestation and birthed it.  And then there I was, holding my 480 (gasp!) page manuscript, thinking “I can’t do this!”  I visualized throwing my manuscript out the car window, tossing it into the fireplace, dropping it into the murky flows of the Fox River.

Most of my anxiety came from the thought of people “getting their hands on” my beautiful baby. After nursing the story to health through editing and revising, I thought it was time to take her “out of the house”. But once I handed her over to family and friends, she wasn’t mine anymore. She became part of the world then, with an identity all her own. My first readers played with her and created their own memories of her, sans me. She became a small weave in the fabric of my readers’ lives.

It’s been several months since then, and I can say now I have recovered. I have been able to discipline her, even when she throws tantrums. She grew up quickly, and I’m now looking for her mentor (a fabulous agent) so she can “become something”. I dream of her one day dressed in a smart book jacket, sitting first position on the “Just in” book store table. People will say “I knew her when she was this thick…” 

I’ll birth more stories, I know. I feel the seed of my second novel slowly attaching inside me. But I doubt any will have as profound an impact.

In the Middle of Things  was, after-all, my first-born.