The Ghetto of Women’s Lit #1

Friday, April 16, 2010

The early morning drive up to Albany, past farms, through Victorian villages and across the Hudson on the Rip Van Winkle Bridge, last Saturday was spectacular. Frank and I were both scheduled to sit on panels. Frank’s on Historical Fiction, mine on Women’s Literature.This was the first Empire State Book Festival (http://empirestatebookfestival.wordpress.com/). The organization was impressive, the crowds substantial, respectful and looked to be across a wide swath of demographic detail. Every session we manned, attended or observed was jam-packed with intelligent, thoughtful readers. The questions were smart and the warmth and interest, pervasive. If this is an indication of how “The Book” is faring these days —I think we should stop worrying.

My discussion panel was moderated by a very bright Lizzie Skurnick and entitled “Under the Pink Umbrella”. Along with me, there were authors, Cathleen Schine, Elizabeth Noble and Sally Koslow. We talked about a lot of things natural (or not) to the condition of Women’s Fiction, but at the center of it all was the conversation I dared to call “the Ghetto of Women’s Lit”.

I know that Lizzie and Sally disagreed, and stated, unequivocally,that they aimed to reach large numbers of fans, and that it doesn’t make any difference how the industry labels their books. Beach-books,Chick-Lit. Whatever. So I won’t put my words in their mouths.

Cathy Schine (“The Three Weissmans of Westport” -- a book that has been paired with mine on Amazon since before we launched), was more measured than Noble or Koslow (or me!) in her reception. In response, she recounted a moment when she’d advised her young son, distraught when his school poem was changed in publication, that he still owned his original poem, and that this new iteration of his work was another thing altogether. It didn’t change the beauty of the original poem – still in his hand. Very moving, actually. And a very good lesson for facing lots of things in life, including the fact that once someone pays you for a work in progress, the game almost always becomes collaborative. For good and bad.

But I’m not feeling measured. And either my skin is thinner or my issues are different. Or both. I have a slew of reviews on Amazon which either give pats on the back, and 5 stars with a big cheer: “This is NOT Chick Lit!” While a handful of reviews make me pay (with 2 crummy stars) for “Not BEING Chick Lit”! Good grief. As I think I’ve said before, it’s like blaming steak for not being ice cream.

And here’s the thing. This fight is happening around my book – not because of it. But since it’s at my doorstep – and on the pages of Amazon, uninvited, though it may be -- I’ll try to answer. More to come tomorrow.

Hello, New Friends!

Friday, April 02, 2010

Not so very long ago, I didn’t know what a blog was. And right up until now (including NOW), I think that they (whomever they are) should be finding some other word (any other word) besides “blog”! As Aaron Sorkin would say, “I’m just saying…”

But blogs they are, and blogs, apparently they will be. And for Frank and for me, as championed by Evelyn Frison and Leah Paulos, here at MEIER, they have opened new lines of communication and contact with people so aligned with our interests, so smart, concerned, connected, committed and conscientious that our eyes have been opened to the power of meeting folks across a cyber path.

Not so very different, I suppose, than the Old World of ham radios or pen pals, but neither of us were ever involved with those things, either. And if squillions of fans came to believe that they knew Frank because his voice came into their home via their BBC dialed radios or televisions, he didn’t confuse it with actually knowing them.

This is different. Here we see the Bloggers histories and their hearts. They share the things they care about and the things they actually accomplish. And the way their followers respect and admire them is visible too. A whole world opens up and welcomes us in. And when they feel that we have something to share, we are made to feel welcome, indeed. I want to stay in touch – (or at least keep them in view) – with a number of these very interesting women and men.

I think you’ll enjoy getting to know them too. So – here are a few of their blog entries or posts about The Season of Second Chances. As fans of SSC, you might appreciate their points of view, but I urge you to stay a little longer on their sites, dip in a little deeper. You’ll find their lives – both internal and external – inspiring and enriching. What energy. What gracious generosity they demonstrate in the sharing of their ideas and the stuff of life that inspires or delights them.

And what a lesson to someone who didn’t even know enough to reach across the keyboard to look for them. Hello new friends. Thank you for being so very generous to and about The Season of Second Chances and to me. I promise to stay in touch!

Here are a few of their blog entries:

http://www.linussblanket.com/love-season-chances-diane-meier/

http://www.thereviewbroads.com/2010/03/book-reviews-giveaway-season-of-second.html

http://booksandcooks.blogspot.com/2010/03/season-of-second-chances-giveaway-below.html

http://beachbrights.blogspot.com/2010/03/mothers-day-gift-idea-season-of-second.html

http://miastoriadivita.blogspot.com/2010/03/season-of-second-chances-and-giveaway.html

Time It Was

Thursday, April 01, 2010

When I look back on my life (however unrealistic finding the time to stop and look back, may seem at this moment), I know that there will be more than a few spectacular moments to string together. How lucky am I. One of them will be last night.

The office never looked prettier or more glamorous. Because the cover of The Season of Second Chances was graced with parrot tulips, we let them be our theme, as we filled the place with more parrot tulips than the drive into Amsterdam. When I ordered the 30”X30” rough wooden flat to be filled with tulips, my account man in the flower market was concerned. “Are you sure that you want a rough wooden flat? – unrefined?” But it was great. Strong and bold, it contrasted to all the Edwardian refinement of 907, but made a beautiful point about the flowers themselves – which was the same point, I think William Morris was making, when he designed those blooming tulip patterns.

We took those William Morris patterns literally, from the book jackets to the shirts of our wait-staff, as they passed around the most extraordinarily delicious hors d’oeuvres ever seen. Andrea Giardino did it again – proved herself to be New York’s most inventive and brilliant caterer. As our friends left they all smiled contentedly and admitted to eating more than they’d ever eaten at a party. Andrea is a wonder. You can find her for your own events at: www.andreagiardino.com.

Remember the line – “You only have a first novel launched once”? It weighed on me like lead and filled me with a kind of dread, in thinking there was no dress rehearsal here. There would be only this one performance and it had better be good – it had better satisfy everyone’s needs – including mine. And, let’s face it, I had no idea what mine were. Luckily, I was led through process by a great team here at MEIER – Ben and David Goodwin, Evelyn Frison and Leah Paulos and Andrea, of course. And together we made a beautiful night out of pressured work day in the middle of a very pressured work week. Another amazing gift.

And if, after hearing my agent, Mitchell Waters, and my editor, Marjorie Braman wax poetic about Teddy and Joy (and me); after my darling friend, Steven Shapiro spoke about the idea of our long and important (and shared with Amy and Frank) friendship; and after Frank talked about his faith in me – if – I could not speak without tears, and the feeling that I had somehow stumbled in on my own memorial service, I didn’t get to give the speech I had intended. --- The speech where I managed to thank everyone, to remember names and acknowledge their support, the one where I remembered to tell everyone how this book almost didn’t happen. There had been a lot of if’s along the way – but most of all, I wanted to make the point that in more than part, SSC is Frank’s book. At least a good bit belongs to the moment when I thought I was giving him an idea for a screenplay and he said – But this is a novel – and it’s yours --. And he then cajoled and prodded and bullied me into its production –. Teddy would not be here without him. And neither would Joy – and neither would joy.

What a wonderful night. Thank all of you who participated and all the more of you who wished me well. Another moment to string into that lovely ornament of memories. In the end, it’s all we have. And that’s the good news.

Up and Running

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

It’s suddenly truly the very end of March, and both The Season of Second Chances and the sun are out and shining. For a few days there, I wasn’t sure that either of those things would happen. The weather earlier this week was a clear reflection of my emotional condition; raining cats and dogs – to the point that houses flooded and beaches were washed away and major routes in and out of the city were compromised, congested or closed. Temperatures ran, in relation to humidity, from warm and sticky to cold and clammy. No comfort anywhere, it seemed.

But here we are, on the other side of the week, and the sky is blue and the book is in the shops – and we have fourteen (almost consistently great) reviews on Amazon. Who’da thought.

It’s one of the lessons I should have learned from Joy Harkness. So many things about The Season of Second Chances were full of possibility and highlighted by generosity and good will, but I found myself recognizing only the imagined problems. For a long moment, everything in sight looked a little scary and as bleak as the weather. Now where have I seen that before?

Obviously, knowing positive truths about life, even well enough to write about them, may not insulate you from those pesky little demons who show up to steal your optimism. So – who’s the April Fool!

MORE Magazine asked me to contribute a piece whose message, I think, runs along this same line. Hope you enjoy it!