On Grieving

     Here is my column; http://www.seacoastonline.com/articles/20120607-LIFE-206070333 just off the presses this morning. This one was for the grieving, which I guess is most of us. Just yesterday I was missing my dear friend Hugh Harter who passed away a few months ago. I was thinking of him as people remembered the storming of the beach on Normandy, an occasion that forever caused Hugh to live in an almost perpetual state of grief that he could not recover from. Being a hero didn't seem to change that very much. Though he enjoyed showing me his medals, they did nothing to alleviate his nightmares. Here also is a piece I wrote about Hugh, and below that a photo a reader sent me of him this morning. It was taken in the fifties with his then girlfriend, the composer Dana Suesse, who would be the inspiration for a character in one of his books many years later. I love that!

     http://www.seacoastonline.com/articles/20110602-LIFE-106020328

      Rest in peace Hugh.

courtesy photo: Mintun

http://www.seacoastonline.com/articles/20120607-LIFE-206070333

For Memorial Day

     For Memorial Day I thought I would share an excerpt from my recently completed novel, because it is the story of  an American war veteran, just one neglected veteran, and how all of society loses when our veterans are not cared for.  Feedback most welcome.

     An excerpt of Holy Buckets, by Tammi J Truax

     Her rayon skirt rippled with the strong spring wind and made her think of the flag that her tired eyes were fixed on. Old Glory, the American flag, was draped across the casket that entombed her Uncle Jimmy. Somehow it had been pinned securely to the casket though the wind wanted to take it. She noticed that the blue field of fifty stars lay at the head of the casket, and it made her mind wander to the crown of stars mentioned in Revelations.  Sarah felt somehow relieved that the flag was there. As if somehow it comforted her uncle lying therein. As if somehow it offered some protection, for him, for her. She was painfully uncomfortable here. She hadn't been to a funeral since her mother had died two years ago, and this occasion was bringing back all the memories of that loss, as if they were as fresh as the flowers blossoming in bunches all around the cemetery. June flowers though, are a soft touch. The searing loss Sarah had experienced at the loss of her family one by one over the course of her twenty-four years of life was a harsh reality that couldn’t be softened, only accommodated and tolerated, like the freckles on her face. It was part of her person, and she felt it was visible to anyone who looked at her, like her freckles and her curly auburn hair or hazel green eyes. Now she was here burying her last local relative. Her father’s brother, Uncle Jimmy, a quiet old Korean War veteran and life-long bachelor that she had never been able to really get to know. And now it was too late. He had passed away, as quietly and unceremoniously as he had lived. Sarah was surprised at the degree of guilt she was suddenly feeling.

     Standing at the back of the small crowd gathered at the burial, a young man named Richard caught a glimpse of sweet white thigh as a girl's skirt fought the wind in the front near the casket, and managed to show no reaction to it on his face, though he did have a reaction. He turned his face away, standing at attention as his body was still accustomed to doing, while the retired US Army chaplain stepped to the front of the small gathering and silently commanded everyone’s attention.

     Richard Morang had known Jim Kelley for just a couple of years since the younger man had returned home from Iraq and taken a job as a laborer in a trucking warehouse where Jim had been employed since he had been discharged from the service himself, and was now a supervising foreman. The guy had always been decent to him, clearly understanding the challenges of reintegrating into civilian life after doing combat duty. He had been just about the only person Richard had been able to talk to about his experiences, both overseas and since coming home. Jim had been a good listener, and Richard had come to the funeral service today to pay his final respects. Richard didn't have a lot of friends, wasn't a very outgoing guy, but he thought of old Jim as a friend. He would miss that man, though he regretted how little he had bothered to really get to know him. And now, thoroughly distracted by a brief flash of leg, he was surprised at the degree of guilt he was feeling.

     He turned his attention to the chaplain, who because he did not really know the deceased man either, began to give a traditional talk about the thirteen folds of the flag; ...

            

On Walden Pond

     Took a wonderful literary road trip with BFF Barb Z. to Concord, Massachusetts a few days ago. On an absolutely perfect May day we toured Louisa May Alcott's Orchard House. I controlled myself in the gift shop and bought only one book! Hospital Sketches, Louisa's account of her experiences as a civil war nurse. I was unfamiliar with it, and it will serve as research for my current novel which is set in the same era. After a lunch break on the porch of the Concord Inn, we explored Author's Ridge in the local cemetery and found the graves of a great many literary giants. It was rather sweet to see the Alcott sisters side by side, a line of little women.    
     With a touch of guilt we read the notes a pilgrimage of men had lately left for Thoreau, all thanking him for what he had done for them. It piqued my already strong interest in going to see the site of Thoreau's cabin, which was our last stop. It could not have been more lovely. Walden Pond is still peaceful and quiet and calm, even with the endless parade of people paying homage to the spot that was all about being alone. The hike out to the site, along the waters edge, is still breathtakingly beautiful. The water surprisingly clear. I wanted to stay, to camp out in the woods, for just one night, to see the stars from that very spot, . . . to get up with the birds and bathe in the pond,. . . and then climb in a canoe and paddle out to the center of the pond, to the very pupil of "Earth's eye". . . to sit there a spell, in silence.  . . and then to go home, . . . and go confidently in the direction of my dreams, to live the life I've imagined.

Getting Stuff Done

      Finished another manuscript this week!! This time for a children's picture book that I've been working on for a couple of years. I just finished uploading it on Inkubate. I'm going to ask one local subject-matter expert to read and review it, and hopefully write me a blurb, before I begin sending it out.
     In other big news, I was accepted into a grad school program. No more excuses for procrastinating on getting that done now, though between pimping out my manuscripts and working and going to school part time, actual writing time is becoming alarmingly scarce...

A daughter

remembers her Mom, still...

http://www.seacoastonline.com/articles/20120503-LIFE-205030339

I Got A Name...

      I got a nice mention in this article. http://www.seacoastonline.com/articles/20120426-ENTERTAIN-204260301

      This weeks primary accomplishments were mostly more of the shameless self promotion that is required of writers these days. I bought my domain name. Yup, I did. And now I have an authors web site under construction.

      One of the things I constructed is a name. Yup, I did. I decided to use a pen name, since really I am just getting started. I have a personal connection to the pen name, but also wanted to use one for practical purposes. And, the truth is, I think my real name sounds dorky, and dated.

      Now if I could just overcome all of these technical hurdles. Could really use a construction worker to come to my rescue....

      

Road Trip

     If you've been here before you know that I am into historical fiction. A trip this weekend to a family wedding in upstate New York meant for me, a chance to visit another Shaker village as part of the research for my current novel. This one is located in Albany,where I picked up some interesting reading material and a few facts I hadn't known, mostly about their grounds, a bit different than the villages here in New England, mostly because they used water power for a few of their enterprises.
     Here are a few photos from my trip, followed by a talk given by another historical novelist.

http://youtu.be/I15cnf0_zbg

So close...

      I've been mulling this over for a few days. It was so exciting when an editor at this press, my very first choice for a publisher, asked for the whole manuscript, and though I knew my chances were slim, it was still crushing to receive this response. I know, intellectually, that I am lucky that someone read it all, never mind the very first editor that got it, and that she was intrigued by it. Or at least I know that is how I'm supposed to feel...


Dear Tammi,

Although I was intrigued by your manuscript, after reading through
HOLY BUCKETS we unfortunately do not feel that it is right for us.
Being a small publisher we can accept only a very few works of fiction
per year, and as such we have to be highly selective.

I thank you for giving us the chance to look at your book, and wish
you the best of luck with it elsewhere! Thank you for your patience.

Sincerely,

X
Editorial Assistant


      So after giving it a lot of thought, I have decided that what it means is that my query letter was really good and that my novel wasn't good enough. I will continue to revise the latter.

Onward Ho!

     I do believe that as of this morning I am officially done revising my first completed novel! It really does feel as if I am finished now. I hope that is the case because I am anxious to move onto the next one, a historical novel I have already started but haven't been able to touch in a few weeks as I had to return to the revision process of the last one, and I found working on both at the same time was just too difficult. Makes you feel a tad schizophrenic. The completed one still appears to be short by the standards set by the powers that be. It is just shy of 48,000 words where it is generally "required" that a novel be no less than 50,000. I couldn't see adding to it just for the sake of making it longer, though I did rewrite several sections which were lengthened for clarity. I do feel like the story has been fully told, though I concede I tend to be a succinct writer. I do not mince my words, as the old adage goes. That being said the one consistent piece of feedback I got from all of my benevolent readers was that it should be longer, and I addressed that as well as I could during these last few weeks of tweaking. From this point, I think only a professional editor can say what it needs, if more is needed. This baby is ready to toddle off...
      My other big accomplishment this week was the purchase of my domain name for an eventual author website, now considered a necessary part of every writer's platform. I'll be working to set that up over the next few weeks and will announce when it is all done. So much to do....

May Sarton symposium

     Happy to say I will be attending and volunteering at this wonderful event; The May Sarton symposium. Just picked up one of her journals and one of her novels to read in advance. I don't think I have ever read anything but her poetry, and know that I have a lot to learn from and about her. She certainly was a prolific writer!  http://maysarton100.org/index.html

My column for National Poetry Month

http://www.seacoastonline.com/articles/20120405-LIFE-204050387

Children's eBooks

     Yesterday at the New Hampshire Writer's Project annual conference, I attended a workshop given by Dan Niglosschy who is the Executive Director of the Independent Publishers of New England, a non-profit trade association. His talk on Digital Publishing Trends, Strategies, and Best Practices really got me thinking.
     Not so much about publishing my novel as an eBook (though I see that as inevitable in the long term) but about putting out at least one of my children's book projects as an eBook. I hadn't considered it before, longing of course, for the hard copy to share with little ones. But I see the great possibility now of eBook being the right solution. I have finished a picture book about my home town, that would only sell locally, and is so graphic heavy that printing it has been prohibitively expensive. I have been working on this project for ten years and refuse to give it up. Now in looking at these gorgeous e-picture-books that are blazing the trail I think I might even have to improve upon what I have ready;
http://reviews.cnet.com/8301-31747_7-20002462-243.html
    Does anyone have any experience creating, buying, or reading children's picture eBooks? Would you buy one for the little kid in your life? Any comments would be appreciated while I evaluate this option.

Slow Books

     I absolutely adore this idea! A slow book movement! Wouldn't it be wonderful if we all started celebrating TV-less Monday, just like Meatless Monday. Just as it is too hard for most of us to give up meat everyday, it is simple and easy to get behind giving it up one day a week, and still so much good can come from it. Let's do it!

     http://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2012/03/a-slow-books-manifesto/254884/ 

Reflecting

      Eight years old, but still relevant; Toni Morrison talks about her motivation for The Bluest Eye.



http://youtu.be/_8Zgu2hrs2k

A Good Week

     This was a really good week, considering that I got very little writing accomplished, had a couple of deadlines diddled with, and earned embarrassingly little. There were a couple of accomplishments that made all of that worthwhile.
      First, in the aftermath of the recent horrible tragedy of the Afghan shooting rampage by a US soldier, I realized that my manuscript Holy Buckets, which is a novel about a soldier with untreated PTSD, should go out this week. So often book deals seem to hinge on timing. So on Monday morning I sent an excerpt to the press that I would most like to see publish it, and was thrilled that the very same day an editor wrote back and asked me to send the whole thing. I realize that probably means nothing at all, yet it was the most encouraging letter from a publisher I have ever received. I spent about ten hours making final edits and sent it off. Here's hoping...
     Also, spent a few hours preparing my first (I think my one and only) comedy routine. I performed as Sasha Shatner at a local fundraiser called Shatner Beat Night, delivering a version of All The Single Ladies in the style of William Shatner. This was the third year that this event took place in my community, and though I was interested in participating before I had always chickened out. I decided not to allow myself to do that again, and made myself enter the very male-dominated competition. Though I was as fierce as I could be, I only took second place, and that was not publicly acknowledged. It was still quite rewarding to go where no woman had gone before, most of all, me.

 

True Story

     The Red Cross has banned me from giving blood which I have been doing since I was in high school and had to lie about my weight. I added two pounds to my 98 to reach the required limit. Now I answer all of the questions posed to me honestly, even the ones that do not apply to my gender (a new policy of theirs). And because I lived in Europe for a few years my blood is considered risky. Mind you I have been home for twenty years and have given blood in the interim, but the nurse/ person said I should not have been, and is afraid I carry Mad Cow Disease. I was tempted to point out that since MCD is fatal and I showed up at the blood drive in what I like to think is a fairly convincing state of not-quite-dead-yetness, perhaps that was a good indication that I did not have it, but since I sometimes do feel like a mad cow, I decided not to argue the point, and turned tail and came home, in what I concede was a rather docile cow-like fashion.

Aww shucks

So flattering to find myself on this list this morning.

http://www.wirenh.com/features-mainmenu-18/cover-stories-mainmenu-53/5575-the-wires-2012-readers-poll.html

On Shakespeare

       I never was much of a fan I'm afraid. That is until recently. Having just returned from my first trip to England I have come home with an increased respect for all things English, and that includes a bit of a first time crush on the bard. I had no idea what a fascinating man he was. I was intrigued by the story proposed in the movie Anonymous which I watched before going on vacation. It portrayed Will Shakespeare as a dolt, in great contrast to the reputation I, as a student of literature, have known of him. Quite insulting to his memory, but I like stories that get you to think about accepted theories and that question authority. Then my daughter and I toured the Globe Theatre in London and it's museum. (Unfortunately no plays are performed in winter.) And that type of physical immersion in history is just so fascinating to me, you get the profound feeling that you missed out on something so special, though the smells alone are unimaginable, the sights and sounds would have been (almost?) worth the bear-baiting and bubonic plague exposure. While at the gift shop I couldn't resist picking up a copy of Bill Bryson's work on Shakespeare. As I suspected it is a pleasure read on the subject of just who the man was. I enjoyed it immensely, and recommend it to all those for whom "love is a spirit all compact of fire".
(Venus and Adonis, 151) 

     What I have been most impressed to learn was the sheer number of beautiful turns of phrase that are part of our everyday English that are attributable to Shakespeare. What an amazing legacy, measured in quality or quantity, but most of all for endurance. Here is a good sampling; http://www.pathguy.com/shakeswo.htm. It is stunning.

     Here are a few of the photos we took at the Globe.

Query Weary

     A couple of days ago I attended a talk at the UNH English Department given by Joanne Wyckoff, of the Carol Mann Agency. She spoke about the role of the literary agent and getting published, or not. I found her talk very helpful. I especially liked how she kept reiterating that if a book is good it will find it's way. There is a lot that can be taken from that advice. I hope I got it. Just a few minutes ago I sent her a query with the first 25  pages of my manuscript, after putting about six or seven hours of work into it. Keep some stuff crossed please!
     While her talk was very interesting, I did find myself just a bit distracted having just come from tending my husband's grave. We met in Durham, and I chose to bury him there, so whenever I am in town I pay a visit. This poem (first draft follows) was percolating in my head all afternoon.

Dad's Rock

We celebrated our second tenth anniversary,

which made remembering the first

so much more sweet, hard to swallow bitter-sweet;

in the dark of a rented mountain cabin,

where you got down on one knee, finally,

and gave me a diamond anniversary ring,

our babies content in corners, sweet sleepy

love tucked tight into every bed,

an unimpressed moose ambling by outside.

Now, I come to your resting place,

the gravestone we call "Dad's Rock",

still choking on unspoken words as then.

I designed this stone for you, my last gift,

a Scottish thistle chiseled in its center

because I didn't know what else to do.

I notice that lichen has begun to grow here.

A similar scaliness has also formed on me,

an unimpressed car speeding by.