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Oh rats and drat and woe is me! Dinah, my editor, responded to the first official draft of Will Sparrow's Road and, as usual, I'm left in the slough of despond (I stole that phrase but isn't it grand?). My first reaction to her critique is always I can't do it, won't do it, don't want to change it, I don't know what she means! That phase lasts a few days. I have in the past risen above it, determined what needs to be done, and then done it. But with each book I think Not this time. This time I won't or can't and I might as well get a job at Subway. That's where I am now. All of you reluctant and confused and overwhelmed writers, you have company. I'll let you know if I figure out what to do with my story or if I am slathering mayonnaise on ham sandwiches downtown.
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Here is generous praise for Meggy from the marvelous Kirby Larson, good friend and good writer:
From the moment Meggy Swann wabbles on scene with a terse assessment of her new living situation with her long-absent father ("Ye toads and vipers!), I was swept up in this robustius book. Cushman transported me to smelly, raucous and mysterious London in Elizabethan times with a deft hand and a exuberant use of deliciously old-fashioned words (gallimaufry! belike! laboratorium!). And she piles trouble upon trouble on dear Meggy—" her legs did not sit right in her hips;" her alchemist father can neither remember her name nor remember to feed her; she's blamed for a neighbor's fire and her best friend, a goose named Louise, is banished from the house for getting her head stuck in a beaker. Meggy's struggle to transform from a country girl to a city girl, from loner to friend, parallels her father's struggle to complete the ultimate transformation: turning liquid into gold and gold into an elixir for eternal life. Meggy is none too fond of Master Peevish, as she calls her father, but she does not want to see his head among those impaled on London Bridge. So what is she to do when she learns he may be involved in a murder plot? She engages in a little alchemy of her own, using words rather than elements.
In addition to being one of the best books I've read in a good long while, it is also very educational and has provided me with ample ammunition the next time someone cuts in front of me in traffic—I might call out, "Begone, you carbuncled toad!" or "A pestilence take you, you rump-faced knave," or even perhaps my favorite, "Go then, you writhled, beetle-brained knave!
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I have recently reread a few books about medieval England that I found when researching Catherine Called Birdy. They were written long before most of you—or even your parents—were born and are fairly short, simple, and, I think, best suited for younger readers or for those wanting just a taste of medieval England.
Adam of the Road, Elizabeth Janet Gray, 1942. Eleven-year-old Adam travels through thirteenth-century England with his father, a wandering minstrel, and his dog, Nick. But when Nick is stolen and his father disappears, Adam suddenly finds himself alone. A Newbery Medal winner.
The Innocent Wayfaring, Marchette Chute, 1943. A young girl of noble family runs away from a convent where she is being prepared for marriage or the veil and shares her travels with a boy who rejects a trade for the freedom of the highways.
The Door in the Wall, Marguerite De Angeli, 1949. In the Middle Ages a young boy crippled by the plague has an adventurous journey from London to a castle where he becomes a page, proves his courage, and earns recognition from the King. A Newbery Medal winner.
The Maude Reed Tale, Norah Lofts, 1972. A girl living in England in the Middle Ages wants to become a wool merchant but is sent instead to a castle to learn to be a lady.
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If you are ever passing through the Portland airport, PDX to those in the know, look for my daughter, Leah Cushman, at one of the airport Powell's bookstores. She is a librarian who decided she was at heart a bookseller. She quit her library job, took a big cut in pay and very early hours, and now is up to her eyeballs in books. She loves the work, loves to recommend books and talk books and buy books and read books. Wonder where she gets it? You can follow her on Goodreads and Library Thing to see what's she reading and what she thinks. Leah may know more about books than anyone else I know.
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It's 2010, and Alchemy and Meggy Swann will finally be out. Book tour plans are afoot. In April, I go to San Antonio and Austin, Phoenix, Los Angeles, and various places in and around San Francisco. In May, there's a webcast from Seattle. June will see me in Philadelphia, New York, and Washington, DC. August I'm in Victoria, BC, and November at Harding College in Arkansas. And before, after, and in-between are visits to local bookstores and schools in Oregon and Washington.
I am of two minds about all this travel. I love to meet people and talk about my new book and hear what they have to say. On the other hand, I hate airplanes, security lines, and having to smile all the time. I hope that Meggy and I have a good year and that your 2010 is happy and peaceful and full of love.
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My beloved nephew Kevin is now a dad. Nicholas Townes Lipski was born the afternoon of December 13 to Kevin and his wife, Becca. This will be some interesting kid! Kevin is a former screenwriter who has music and movie blogs and is now writing for children (Jimmy the Christmas Zombie has promise but remains unfinished). He'll be a stay-at-home dad when Becca goes back to work.
Dear Nick, here is what I would like to say to you but Kurt Vonnegut said it better: "Hello, babies. Welcome to Earth. It's hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It's round and wet and crowded. At the outside, babies, you've got about a hundred years here. There's only one rule that I know of, babies—God damn it, you've got to be kind." Welcome, Nick. Grab onto your mother's breast and eat and drink and grow, knowing you are very much loved.
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It is 18 degrees here this morning, sunny and dry but 18 degrees! We Vashon Islanders do not have the hardiness or the cold-weather expertise of folks from Minnesota, Alaska, or Siberia. We are cold and grumpy about it. But the kindly UPS man fought his way through the frigid forest to bring me a pot of gold. These coins are the brainchild of the geniuses in Clarion's marketing department to promote the publication of Alchemy and Meggy Swann. They look fabulous, and they taste really, really good. I know from experience. See if your local bookstore has one you can try.
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Philip and I are right now on the Oregon coast, and I am writing this while looking out the window at the magnificent haystack rocks of Cannon Beach. Then we head to Portland where we'll spend Thanksgiving with Leah. Hope you all have a wonderful holiday. We have so much to be thankful for.
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I just finished David Small's graphic novel, Stitches. It is heartbreaking, not only because of his illness but also those appalling parents. I too had cancer that was caused by the 1950s enthusiasm for radiation. In my case it was a miracle cure for the skin infection called ringworm, and the radiation was on my face as was the cancer ten years ago. So I immediately related to David's story. The book is marvelous and moving and has deservedly been nominated for a National Book Award, but there is much talk of it being an adult book and thus nominated in the wrong category. All the nominees in the Young People's category, in fact, skew a little older than I would expect. My personal favorite is Laini Taylor's Lips Touch. Lovely and lush and unforgettable. What do you think?
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If I were the type of person to shout Huzzah! or intone with Lewis Carroll, Oh frabjous day! I would, right now. My last birthday present has arrived—the Oxford Historical Thesaurus. Not only does it give synonyms for nearly every word in English but it dates them as well. I am so excited. It's perfect for a historical novelist. I can find out exactly what a character would say when happy or grieving or trying to get someone's attention. My characters can swear with historical accuracy and call each other appropriate nasty names. My daughter's friend, when she heard what I wanted for my birthday, said, “Your mother must be in love with words.” And, yes, she is. Galloping, galumphing, grizzled, glorious words! Shuffling, thrumbling, roistering, rioting words! The books are now my favorite birthday present ever, even better than the compost maker.
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Wordstock in Portland was a hoot. Lots of great speakers and exhibits and panels, like ours. Here we are, talking about differences and similarities between writing historical fiction and fantasy: Ellen Howard has a new historical novel, The Crimson Cap, out next year; Susan Fletcher is the author of Shadow Spinner and the amazing Alphabet of Dreams; me, you know about; Joni Sensel is the author of The Humming of Numbers and The Farwalker's Quest (see my post for 16 April 2009) and Mary Jane Beaufrand took us to Renaissance Florence for Primavera. All are pretty good talkers and even better writers, I recommend you check out their books. And if you are anywhere near Oregon, you might visit next year's Wordstock. Lots of fun and lots of books.
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Today is my birthday. After I get over the shock of being a year older, I will have a lovely time. My husband will bring me tea in bed and build a fire. I will stay in my pajamas all day and do whatever I want. That will probably include writing—we authors are a funny bunch. Happy birthday to you, whenever your birthday is.
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Many years ago I used to make carrot juice for my two adorable blond nephews and as a result was christened Aunt Carrot. Now they are all grown up, still adorable although no longer blond.
We all—my brother Art, sister-in-law CJ, nephews Christian and Kevin, their lovely wives Deborah and Becca, and my beloved husband—gathered together on San Juan Island to eat popcorn, see killer whales, and sing.
To celebrate the occasion, CJ made me an Aunt Carrot T-shirt.
I love my family but would prefer to watch whales when they are not snacking on seals.
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Rosanne Parry and I are going to share the stage at the Wordstock Book and Literary Festival in Portland in October so I wanted to read her novel before I met her. Heart of a Shepherd is a lovely book about soldiers and ranchers in Eastern Oregon, people and place that couldn't be more different from me and mine. And she scooped me right up and made me care about these kind, honorable characters—not wizards or vampires, ghosts or mutants—but ordinary folks, good folks, who love each other and their homes and their country. I cared so deeply about them that I cried as I finished the book. If you live in or near Portland, come and see us on Sunday, October 11. And on Saturday the 10th, I'll be on a panel with Susan Fletcher, Joni Sensel, Ellen Howard, and Mary Jane Beaufrand. Come and ask questions. I'll let Susan answer the tough ones.
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On this day in 1969 Philip and I were married in the backyard of my parents' home in Orange, California. A rabbi in an African dashiki recited the words to the Beatles' "In My Life." Philip wore a brightly colored velvet vest that I made him. I carried the dog, Dog, who wanted to be part of the celebration and wore daisies in my hair.
There have been joys and struggles, the usual ups and downs, but forty years later he is still the love of my life. I am a lucky woman. |
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Not only does Meggy have a cover now, she has her first review—from the wonderful Richie Partington of richiespicks.com. He says, among other things, "The first thing that you've got to know about Cushman's latest piece of historical fiction—this one set in London at the dawn of the Elizabethan era—is that there are wonderful waves of high-spirited discourse providing balance to the dire predicaments in which feisty, differently-abled heroine Margret "Meggy" Swann finds herself...Page after page, the pre-Shakespearian London in which the tale is set is delightfully colorful—at least if you are having the thrill of reading Meggy's descriptions of it and not actually having to live and breathe and smell and taste and step in it every day. Eww! ...Ye toads and vipers! Meggy Swann's coming of age story is way-fun and, thus, my trip through Elizabethan London was come and gone way, way too soon."
I was delighted to read such a positive response. After all these years, sometimes I still fear that someone will shout, "The author has no clothes!" and I will be found out—a poor writer or worse, no writer at all. Funny how that still happens. I hope you agree with Richie and find that Meggy is lots of fun. |
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I felt like a rock star this weekend! I was at the society for Children's Book Writers and Illustrators Conference (SCBWI) in Los Angeles with 1,100 other writers. And I got to hang out with other rock stars, like Richard Peck, Linda Sue Park, Sherman Alexie, Eve Bunting, Holly Black, Ellen Harper, David Wiesner!!! We ate rubber chicken and talked about writing and books for days—I can't think of much I'd rather do. Sherman made us cry, Richard made us think, David made us wish we could draw, and Lin Oliver and Steve Mooser made us all feel so welcome we wanted to move in! My editor, Dinah, fed me shrimp and enchiladas, and Linda Sue took us to a Korean restaurant where I learned I like kim chi but jellyfish—not so much. I recommend you find people who love to do what you love and go do it with them. And rock on!
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I have been reading the galleys for Alchemy and Meggy Swann. Galleys are manuscript pages printed just as they will be in the book but not cut and bound. This is the last chance to find missing words, misspellings, words divided inappropriately, and other such mistakes. It's too late to do editing although I always find sentences I wish I'd written differently or totally the wrong words! It's frustrating, but it's an exciting time. The pages look almost like a book. I start to believe it's real—there really will be a book. And reading the manuscript over reminds me of what I loved about Meggy and how annoying she can be, what a terrific guy Roger Oldham is, and why Master Peevish needs a good shaking sometimes!