Super-organized book club

On Friday, I talked with a book club from Minneapolis for over an hour. This group was organized! (ie., before we got down to business, they set up another call for early May to discuss The Silver Compass.) Then, after talking about both of my novels, I answered a list of questions they'd faxed me days before. Here are a few for fun:

A bad habit you'd like to fix?

Interrupting when someone else is talking.

One-hour massage or one-hour shopping excursion?

The massage. Hate, hate, hate shopping.

What you have no patience for...

People with a sense of self-entitlement. Nothing bugs me more.

What are your favorite writing tools?
1) Writers Digest Flip Dictionary
2) Target "Biggie Notepads"
3) Montblanc pen
4) Espresso

Favorite indulgence?

Barefoot Venus Mustard Bath, hands down. If you've never tried this stuff, you must!

Best movie you saw last year?

Little Miss Sunshine.

Most watched DVD by your family?

I would have to say it's a tie between Bye-Bye Love with Paul Reiser & Randy Quaid or Jumanji with Robin Williams.

Read any books twice over the past 12 months?

Yes. The Girls by Lori Lansens.

Thank you Alana, Debbie, Rita, Dora, Florence, James, Sharon, Maria and Tammy. Oh, and congrats to Willa who won her own silver compass as well as a copy of my upcoming novel. It was great fun talking with you guys!

Trouble reading regular print? No worries

Quick update before the weekend: Earlier this week, I learned sub-rights for The Silver Compass have been sold to Doubleday Book Club and the Literary Guild, and both plan to promote it as a Featured Alternate in their April & May issues.

They also bought sub-rights to my first two novels, so I'm thrilled they picked this one up as well.

Beyond that, Doubleday plans to publish it in "large print" in May 2008 (which they also did for The Penny Tree), so if you're one of those readers who can't read regular print, or you know someone who has this problem and would like to get them a copy, here's a solution for you.

Self-promotion minus the chicken suit

As an author, self-promotion naturally becomes a big part of your life. Of course, I'm referring to classy self-promotion versus the chicken suit variety where you weave your way through traffic wearing a placard that says: Read Holly Kennedy. Fall into a good story!

What we do for a living isn't of the 9 to 5 variety and at any time you may run across a situation you'd be a fool not to capitalize on. (If you haven't already, read my Wal-Mart post from June '07 as a solid example of this: http://author-in-the-trenches.blogspot.com/search?q=wal-mart. By the way, for some reason when you click on the above link, blogger shows the Wal-Mart post below this one. Who knows why.)

Self-promotion aside, though, I also enjoy my privacy and for the most part I like to remain as anonymous as possible, especially when I'm having a bad hair day, or my eyes are bloodshot the way they were yesterday (sick dog the night before/long story).

That said, last night I was late as I rushed into the city for my son's basketball practice and sat next to another mom (someone I've met once, but otherwise don't know.) Within minutes, we found ourselves discussing books the way men might discuss football. We talked about titles we loved, compared authors we admired, etc., and when she told me she was an avid reader, I grabbed my bag, yanked out two autographed copies of The Tin Box and The Penny Tree, and gave them to her.

(No, I don't carry books everywhere I go. That I had them with me was purely coincidence. I was supposed to deliver them to a book club in the city, but couldn't find the address -- I'm very address challenged -- so had decided to do it later.)

Anyhow... the woman was thrilled (it's always fun seeing someone's face light up like that) and then as she examined the hard cover of The Tin Box, her face fell and her eyes slowly went wide. Growing increasingly excited, she explained that a friend had given her a paperback of this very book weeks ago, that it was one of her friend's all-time favorite books, and she had told her it would make her cry.

At that point, my face lit up. I mean, what are the chances that you'll go to your kid's basketball practice, sit next to a stranger, discuss novels, and get told that someone in a city of a million loved your debut novel?

Having your work in the spotlight

I’m often asked if it bothers me having my novels judged & reviewed & evaluated by others. “Doesn’t it make you feel vulnerable?” Yes, but not the way it used to. With each new book, that vulnerability has thankfully shriveled to a mere speck compared to what it once was.

ie., When your debut comes out, your emotions are heightened and you go through the most unsettling time. After all, here's a story you created, stressed over, revised to death and now (gulp) it's out there, competing against thousands of others, many who have been doing this much longer than you have. (Note of interest: In 2005 there were over 172,000 titles published in the U.S. alone. Is it a competitive market? You bet.)

There's no way you can avoid bad reviews altogether if you plan to make this a long term career, because not everyone is going to like your work (ie., take me to a science fiction movie and I'll be clawing to get out within minutes; we all have different tastes). But should you lose sleep over it? Nah! You have more books to write, so get going already!

The Silver Compass is currently in production so I’m in “the safe zone” until reviews begin rolling in. It's as if I’m in an auditorium watching the spotlight flash around the crowd, focusing on others while I sit in the shadows, observing.

Still, when it comes to writing as a career choice, I'm in my element. Matter of fact, I can’t not write. I’d be miserable if I couldn’t. So if having my work judged by others comes as part of the package, I'm okay with that. The other option — not being published — would be worse than any bad review that ever comes my way.

Contest winner + Penny Tree nomination

The winner of December's contest for a copy of my upcoming novel plus a jazzy little compass was Caroline Tammets of Wisconsin. Don't forget to enter this month's contest. We're giving away the same package in Jan, Feb, Mar and April.

On another note, I just received some unexpected news that lets me swim with the big fish, at least for a little while! The Penny Tree has been nominated by Romantic Times for a Reviewers Choice Award for Best Women's Fiction.

I certainly don't expect to win (take a look at the novels and authors I'm up against below and you'll understand why) but the nomination is truly an honor and a great way to start the new year.

Loving Frank by Nancy Horan
The Year of Fog by Michelle Richmond
Family Tree by Barbara Delinsky
The Christmas Pearl by Dorothea Benton Frank

Happy New Year from the Rocky Mountains

I'm itchy with anticipation about what lies ahead in 2008, more so than I've been in years, but I'm also grateful for all I have at this moment: a healthy family, happy kids, a novel out in 90 days, another underway. Life is good. From my family to yours, we wish you nothing but the best in the year ahead.

December Contest Reminder...

This month's contest to win your own silver compass and an autographed copy of the book (due out April 1, 2008) closes December 31st. If you haven't already entered, you have five days left to do so. Good luck everyone!












Enter by sending an email to holly@hollykennedy.com including your name and an email address where you can be contacted. One entry per person per month.

A blogging milestone & Merry Christmas

Wow! As of last week, I've been blogging for one year. Thanks to everyone who's stopped by to read, quietly lurk, or comment. Having you around makes me feel as though I'm sharing my office with a group of incredibly well behaved co-workers!

At the moment, though, work must wait. I have company and I'm reverting from "author" to "hostess" although I did spike the punch bowl in an effort to stir up my guests and stimulate some dialogue I can borrow for a future novel. Oh, and I also cornered my 85 year old father-in-law this afternoon to grill him about life in the 50s so I have the most authentic POV possible for my next protagonist. Hmmm... Maybe work doesn't have to wait. Maybe it can be incorporated right into the holidays.

Merry Christmas everyone!

Going bug-eyed from writing withdrawal

I love Christmas. The tree, the gifts, the guests. Usually, this is when all my restlessness disappears for a few weeks, but not this year. This year, I'm distracted.

I'm jotting notes on everything in sight. I'm huddled under the blankets well after midnight with a reading light (so I don't wake my husband) writing dialogue I'm worried I'll forget. There's nothing I'd rather do than hunker down at my computer and write, but I can't...

You'd think I'd be frustrated, but I'm not. Instead, I'm smiling all goofy like I've got this huge scecret or something, because I feel so fortunate to have a job I love this much, and doubly so that my creative muse is tap-tap-tapping on my brain, impatiently wanting to get back to work on a novel I'm excited about.

If you're a writer, you know what I mean. There's no feeling like it, is there? That tug and pull that makes you want to slink away from your own dinner party, not to sip wine by yourself in the kitchen, but to write!

Cucumber slices to the rescue

I have two kids home sick today (cough, fever, sore throat). It started yesterday & after a long night where I doled out cough syrup, Tylenol, and smeared Vick's Vapo-rub on their feet, they were even worse this morning.

After listening to them moan and groan for an hour (where I got no work done) I set them up on the couch with blankets and pillows and asked them to stretch out and close their eyes. Then I put on a Spongebob DVD and grabbed a jar of cucumber eye-pads someone had given me. I placed the pads on their eyes and asked them to breathe deeply as they listened to Spongebob, that the eye-pads would extract impurities, clear their sinuses and soak through their pores to help kill their headaches.

For almost two hours now they've been silent as mice, other than asking for a fresh set of eye-pads before lunch, followed by these whispered comments from one kid to the other as I stood listening in the doorway.

"What are impurities?"

Pause. "I think they're some kinda germ."

"You know what? I think maybe Mom shoulda been a nurse."

Insert chuckle here from my eleven-year-old. "Nah. She'd miss making up her stories!"

Remember your trash man at Christmas!

Every year at Christmas I buy something for the trash guys who pick up our garbage. Then, on the last garbage day before the holidays, my boys run a brightly wrapped package out to the road in the morning and set it on top the garbage can with a card that says, Merry Christmas!

When the truck pulls up, we peek outside to watch their reaction. Because different companies win the contract each year it's never the same crew, although there are some things that never change.

For instance, the look on my kids' faces as they recognize (without being told) that they are showing respect where respect is due. And then there's the trash man when he grabs the parcel and turns it this way and that, frowning a little before a smile slowly begins to creep across his face.

Yesterday, I left a list on my desk of gifts I had yet to buy and when my kids got home from school one of them must have read it, because last night I noticed someone had scribbled, Mom, don't forget the trash man! at the bottom of the list.

A Christmas solution for grandma

My boys never know what to buy their grandma for Christmas, but this year I found a fun gift to solve the problem. They're called "racing grannies", they're only $12.99 Canadian per set, and can be ordered online through Grand River Toys.

Since my mom never goes online (as far as I know she's never even been to my blog)
I think I'm pretty safe sharing this post with everyone.

I wonder how fast they'd go
if we pumped 'em full of Red Bull?! Go grannies!

Pondering the 'uncatchable' mouse

One of my neighbors phoned yesterday. He's having mouse trouble and he wanted to know if he could borrow one of my cats for a few days. He'd already tried trapping the mouse, with no luck. I said no, I couldn't help, even though, yes, I do have two cats. Let me explain...

Years ago, I had four cats.
At the time, my daughter was in univeristy, living with her mom, and they were having mouse trouble. (I hate calling her my step-daughter, by the way. I have been in her life since she was seven so the word step-daughter always catches in my throat and sounds wrong).

Anyhow, she phoned and asked if they could borrow a few of the cats. Thinking this would give the cats some adrenaline racing excitement in their otherwise sadly sedentary lives, I packed two up and drove them over.

I checked in often to see how it was going.

Apparently, not well.

Both cats seemed drop-dead exhausted at the end of each day, but the mouse was still alive and well, scurrying all over. As each day passed, I became increasingly disgusted with my "citified" cats. Maybe I should switch them around and test out the other two. How hard could it be to catch a mouse!?

Then, on the 4th night, I sat up in bed and burst out laughing, having a forehead slapping blond moment. I had had all my cats declawed years ago (a necessity given the repetitive attacks on our furniture) which explained why they were failing so miserably at their assignment!

Telling off the tooth fairy

Last week, my youngest lost yet another tooth and because he still believes, he slipped it under his pillow and went to sleep, but the tooth fairy forgot to leave him anything so the next morning we
had a grouchy kid at breakfast, mumbling and grumbling under his breath about how "she sure isn't
very good at her job."

My oldest reassured him, telling him when she forgets, she pays double the second night. This seemed to appease him, but then the tooth fairy forget YET AGAIN that night (she was tired, okay?!) and he was even less impressed the next day.

On the third night, when the tooth fairy finally got her act together and reached under his pillow with a five dollar bill,
she found this pleasant little note...

Win your own silver compass plus an autographed copy of the book

Four contests will be held between now and April 1st of 2008 when my third novel, The Silver Compass, is published.

Monthly contests will be posted on my blog in Dec, Jan, Feb, and March, with draws held at the end of
each month.

Here's a snapshot of the compass, the book, and below are the rules:

1. Anyone can enter.

2. One entry will be allowed per
person per month.

3. Enter by sending an email to holly@hollykennedy.com including your full name and an email address where you can be contacted.

Because we lose a week at Christmas, this blog post is the announcement for December's contest. Entries can be made between now and Dec 30th and the draw will be held on Dec 31st. Good luck everyone!

Crazy signs good for a smile

Earlier today, my sons were sitting on the couch, laughing. I asked what was so funny and they showed me the book they were looking at, filled with pictures of crazy signs from all
around the world.

Down the left are snapshots
of some and below are a few others we liked:

You are invited to take advantage of the chambermaid.

Alligator feeding Sunday at three pm. Don't forget to bring the kids!

A sign in a maternity ward
in Florida read, No children allowed.

In a hotel elevator in Paris a sign read, Please leave your values at the front desk.

A sign in Branxton, USA read, Drive Carefully! We have two cemeteries and no hospital.

Elephants please stay
in your car.


And finally, on a blanket made in Taiwan, was a sticker that read, Not to be used as protection from a tornado!.

A good book is a good book...

While talking to a newly formed book club in Nebraska last
night (my first chat with a group in that State; thanks, guys) three people asked if I could describe the difference between literary versus commercial fiction, and another asked what I personally preferred to read?

Simply put, literary fiction draws you in with language, imagery, character insight and sense of place whereas commercial fiction focuses more on narrative and plot. Literary fiction is also more tolerant of digression. If the story reveals something about the character, the pages are worth it. Also, the likability of characters isn't as required as commercial pieces.

Some well known commercial fiction authors would be John Grisham, Dan Brown, Nora Roberts. They rarely win prizes and aren't often reviewed, yet these authors do well financially as millions of readers regularly snatch up their books.

When it comes to personal preference, I'll read anything. Essentially, here's my strategy: If a book draws me in, I’ll keep reading. If it has a good story, I’ll finish it. If my mind wanders, I’ll put it down and find something better to do, and I usually won't pick it up again.

Of course, this is said from the reading side of my brain (a good book is a good book & all that jazz) while the writing side, fresh off months of hard work trying to create an unputdownable commercial piece, elbows me with a terse, Easier said than done, hotshot!

Dangerously distracted...

Like many homes these days, ours is a busy place. There are times (yesterday being one of them) when I'm tempted to pack a bag, climb out a window, and go to a hotel for a few nights.
(I figure I'd have to use a window cause both doors are so busy with people coming and going, I'd never get to my car without someone seeing me and catching on.) Once there, I'd order room service, watch a movie that isn't animated, and get completely blissed out from all the silence...

Getting to the point, I've been working crazy hours for the last two months, as has my husband (when he isn't traveling), and to top it off, everyone in the family (other than me) has a birthday in Oct or Nov. Envision Halloween three weeks ago (yes, we truly did get 249 kids) followed by balloons, screaming kids, and migraines from birthday parties.

Taking all that into consideration, I had a blond moment last night. I decided to make dinner and pulled out our fancy-dancy electric wok. Yawning, I set it on the stove. I dumped some oil in, cut up chicken and veggies, turned on the burner... and walked away to answer the doorbell.

Moments later, while fishing through my wallet for money to buy chocolate covered almonds none of us will ever eat from a cute six-year-old, my son tugged on my arm and asked if the wok was supposed to be smoking like that.

Note to self: an electric wok probably won't be covered under warranty when melted on a gas stove.

I hope all you folks in the U.S. have a great Thanksgiving weekend!

Reviewing my copy edited manuscript

It's late Saturday night (or is it Sunday morning?) and I'm feeling a little punch drunk. Not from drinking, from working through my copy edited manuscript for the last twelve hours.

At this stage, an author has read and re-read his/her novel enough times that he/she can recite entire pages the way an actor can recite his lines without referring to a screenplay. You know all of your character's ages, who has a hooked nose, a drinking problem, a phobia for mice. It's eerie how easily you recall dialogue pieces, the weather in a specific scene, and that the door must open inward or else you'll flatten your protagonist's cat who always sleeps outside next to it.

Still...it's tiring, going through page after page of what was once neatly typewritten text now all mucked up with what must look like hand-written martian-code to the average layman. (For your interest, above is a list
of the basic editing marks you begin seeing in your sleep after spending entirely too much time staring at them).

My manuscript arrived Wednesday and I need to courier it back to New York on Monday. This is a faster turnaround than usual, but I was late getting the book delivered to my editor, so it only seems fair that I suck it up and get this done on time now.

Back to how late it is...
I've decided to finish the rest tomorrow because those little editing marks have started to blur and blend and morph into a snarkier version you see here on the left.

Isn't this hilarious!?!

I hope you realize I'm not complaining, because I'm actually happy to be at this stage with Silver Compass
and now I can't wait for the ARCs to arrive.

Special meaning behind book cover

During a book club chat with a group from Indiana last week, someone asked if I had a favorite book cover. I said no, I like them all for different reasons (answering the way a mother does when asked if she has a favorite child) and now that The Tin Box and The Penny Tree have gone into 2nd and 3rd printings in some foreign countries, the covers have changed again and I've got more new ones for my scrapbook. I thought, When you're that fortunate, how can you choose one over the other?

Yesterday, I changed my mind.

There is one that means more. It's the first published novel I ever held with my name on it. As foreign countries often do, Germany retitled it from The Tin Box to something like Only in a Single Moment, but that certainly didn't matter to me.

When it was delivered by FedEx, I ripped open the package and cried. How apt, I thought. My mom's German, my grandfather, who died right before I was born, was German, and here I was holding my debut novel, in German.

That Christmas, to surprise me, my husband and kids signed a tin strip underneath it and had the cover framed. It hangs behind my desk today. So I was wrong, my first German book cover will always be a favorite when comparing it to every cover that has followed since.

A gift from a goof in Chicago

My pal, Sally, sent me this "life-transforming" breath spray. She's always bugging me about being Canadian and this proves a point I've been trying to make with her for years... that there are clearly enough Americans who wanna be like us Canadians that there's now
a whole market of products to appease them. *smile*

Oh, and you know that stereotype that we have a definitive accent of some kind that makes us sound Canadian? Not true. Not at all. Ask anyone who was in Maui with me this past summer. I blended right in and I'll betcha no one could tell where I was from!

Dusting off The Keeper of the Pond

I've got a problem, but in the grand scheme of things, I've come to realize it's not a bad one to have.

The Tin Box, my debut novel, was my first attempt at writing a novel and now I look at it with pride, realizing how fortunate I was to get my foot in the door early. The Penny Tree followed and it was hard, because I ran face first into 'second novel syndrome', which can be debilitating. This is where you feel you're under a spotlight and your confidence gets shaken as you second guess what you did so naturally with the first one. Still, after writing and rewriting The Penny Tree too many times to count, I was pleased with the end result.

Then along came The Silver Compass , which offered up a whole other set of difficulties I won't get into here. I knew the main gist of the story, but much of the magic happened during the writing of it and now that it's in production, I'm excited about holding the finished product and seeing how readers react.

Up next is novel four and herein lies the dilemna...
For the better part of a year, I was sure it would be Penguin Hill. However, last week my agent pointed something out that pulled me up short.

You see, there's this other novel I've been talking about for years called The Keeper of the Pond and when I initially pitched it to her, she got tears in her eyes (a good sign). Until Penguin Hill elbowed its way into my mind, The Keeper of the Pond was always going to be novel number four.

Both novels will be told in 1st person, from a man's point of view. These men aren't alike (one is old, one is young) but what they do have in common is that their stories won't let me go and they feel magical before I begin writing them (another good sign, as this has never happened to me before -- not like this).

Both also tackle serious issues with broad appeal for women and men, although these issues are also very different. I've written 5-6 chapters for both novels, which I carefully revisited last week, and when I was done, I realized my agent was right.

I need to write The Keeper of the Pond first.

It's a strategic choice from a career standpoint because the story is stylistically closer to the other novels I've written so far, and therefore less of a jump for readers to take with me as I grow as an author. And the good thing? Novel number five isn't going anywhere. I just need to dig deep for patience and write them in the order they should be written.

P.S. Yes, the main character is the old guy noted in the post below, so I'll use John's recommendation of Legal Seafoods
as his favorite restaurant!

Calling east coast bloggers...

Here's the thing: I need to adopt a favorite restaurant for the main character in my next novel and it must be within walking distance of the Boston Common.

This guy's old, though, so I'm not saying ten blocks away, more like two to three at most. I'm not looking for a coffee shop. I'd prefer a quaint little restaurant (it doesn't have to be high end). I'd love if it were a real restaurant that's been around 10-20 years (or more, if possible).

I'll be visiting Boston in mid-April and plan to spend a few days wandering around the Common, but it'd be great if someone could recommend a restaurant for my character as I don't know Boston well enough to choose one on my own.

Up next, Penguin Hill

As a kid, I used to love buying new pens, pencils & fresh notebooks every summer before school started. Keep in mind, I'm not saying I was a stellar student, it was the idea of a 'fresh start' that most appealed to me, and this hasn't changed. I finish one novel, and I'm dying to move on to the next.

Next week, I'm working on copy edits for The Silver Compass. In the meantime, I'm rubbing my hands together as I get ready to write my next novel, which will be titled Penguin Hill.

The story came to me fully formed a year ago, told from
a male protagonist's point of view, but other than working on it this past summer at the Maui Writers Retreat, I put off writing it until now. I know I won't get much done before Christmas, but I'm still excited about the whole 'fresh start' thing.

And while I am writing it, I'll have these two little guys cheering me on. My husband bought them for me. They're tiny. The big one's only an inch tall and his partner even more wee than that, but for the next six months or so, they will both be front and center on my desk. Let's hope they do their jobs well as mini-writing muses!

Kudos to Susan Wiggs & The Winter Lodge!

I met Susan Wiggs at the Maui Writers Retreat in 2003. She was my instructor and to a person, everyone in the group adored her. (By the way, it would be hard not to enjoy Susan's company. She hasn't an ounce of pretentiousness to her and is one of the most genuine people I've met in this business.)

When I popped over to her blog this morning and saw that her novel The Winter Lodge was chosen as one of the best books of the year by Publishers Weekly, I was thrilled. It's also been listed on Amazon as #1 on the Best of Romance list. If you haven't read it already, you really should.