Off the Beaten Track
Sandy Barker's Travel BlogArchive for reading
When I grow up…
I want to be an author. A published one. Who writes for a living. Books, in case you were wondering.
I am talking a class with two published authors, who also worked in publishing. They have authored 40 books between them – and they are my age. They know stuff, and in one lesson I learned more than I have taught myself by reading at least a dozen books about how to get published. I have three more classes, and by the end of the month, I will have the tools and know-how to pen the perfect book proposal.
Self publishing and e-books are the way into the industry for many authors. But, I am going to do this old-school. With an agent, or an editor, and I am going to author a hold-it-in-your-hands-and-turn-the-pages book. And then I am going author 3 more – to start, that is.The stories are already in my head.
My heroine is Sarah.
She is currently 27 and it is 1996. She is Australian and lives in London. Her relationship with her boyfriend of 5 years has ended – they broke up in Paris – and she is spinning in the aftermath. If she were Dorothy, this would be the part of her life where a tornado picks her up and dumps her in a queer, but magical world. Dorothy has Oz; Sarah has Europe.
I started the book as an autobiography – years ago – and am now novelizing it. Re-writing it as fiction has been surprisingly satisfying, because as interesting as my past is (and it is pretty interesting), fiction is funner. There is still truth in the words, because I write from a place of knowing, but Sarah can be smarter, funnier and more self-aware than I was when I was alone and broke in Europe after the collapse of a five-year relationship. Sarah is Sandy 2.0.
Non-sequitur: Today I went into a bookstore. This is rare, because I have owned a Kindle for one year, four months and one week. Browsing for new books has become an online activity, like catching up with friends, shopping for shoes and writing to my mother. But today was special. For a start, it is sunny here in Seattle, and when it is sunny, you leave the house. Period. You just do.
Also, I had homework to do. My task by next class is to research books like mine and identify my competing titles. This is so I can paint a clear picture for agents and editors of what my book will be like. They will not only want to know which books mine is like, but what will make mine distinctive from these books. And, what will my book look like on the shelf as it is nestled among these competing titles? I have some work to do, and this type of work is best done in a bookstore.
And the last reason I went to a bookstore today is that sadly, my Kindle carked it (it doesn’t work anymore) last night. You would think that with something that has been a part of my life for the past year, four months and one week, I would have a period of mourning longer than 13 hours. But no. It was surprisingly easy to get back into my bookstore groove.
Bookstore visits are best accompanied by a good coffee, so I stopped for one of those first, and with more anticipation that I could have, well anticipated, I stepped inside the small bookstore at the top of Queen Anne hill. It is aptly named Queen Anne Books in case you want to stop by. It really is a lovely store. I immediately gravitated towards a Valentine’s Day display, where I read through a couple of picture books, and then picked up, “Are you a Jackie or a Marilyn? Timeless lessons on love, power and style.”
The cover was kick-ass. And don’t listen to that nonsense about not judging a book by its cover. That is B.S. perpetuated by authors of books with crappy covers. Of course you should take the cover into consideration when choosing a book. If you don’t like the cover, how on earth are you going to convince yourself to spend hours reading what’s on the inside? It would be like trying to convince yourself to eat a bowl of great-tasting sludge. And if covers weren’t important, all book covers would look the same. I digress.
I flicked through the chapters, and I liked the lay-out. The text is interspersed with clever comics and quizzes. If I am going to read non-fiction, I like it to have an angle. Quirky, funny, smart, or otherwise engaging non-fiction for me. Pages and pages of paragraphs put me off. I have the attention span of a gnat; I need to be stimulated.
I moved on to the final selection criteria: The first page test. I read it and the tone and pace spoke to me, so I took the book to the counter. I told the store owner I was still browsing. I had yet to do my homework. “Do you have a section of what I would call ‘chick-lit?” She visibly flinched. I guess she doesn’t really consider that a genre, although all my girlfriends would know exactly what I meant.
She pointed me towards the Romance section. I stared down at every book Diana Gabaldon has ever written. “Uh, I guess I mean something more contemporary, like Nick Hornby for women.” This seemed to bamboozle her further. She started scouring the shelves for books and pointed to Audrey Niffeneger’s The Time Traveler’s Wife. This is one of my favorite books, but nothing like what I am writing.
“Uh, something lighter than that. I just read Bond Girl, which was more like what I am looking for.” She pulled three more books from the shelf and left me to look them over. They weren’t right for my competing titles list, but the good news is that in my attempts to identify what sort of book I was looking for I remembered Jennifer Weiner and Jane Green as two authors who write books like the one I am writing. I was pleased that I had made some progress on my homework.
And although I didn’t find any other books to buy, I am happy with my first post-Kindle purchase. Perhaps I will stick with ‘real’ books for a while.
Reading, Writing and Relatives
I am spending some time with my sister, brother-in-law and nephew in London. They live in the bustling borough of Teddington, where terraces houses are the norm and vehicles try to maneuver down narrow streets without taking off the side mirrors of parked cars.
I have spent most of my time here at home, or out and about the neighborhood with my sister and nephew.
I have visited with two long-time friends, and enjoyed outings to Kingston (shopping hub), Oxfordshire (to see our Great-aunt), and to Hampton Court Palace. I have seen and done some really cool stuff, and usually I would blog all about it.
But I have started this blog post seven times. Seven. My travel writing synapses appear to be broken. Unlike my sister, whose oven is steaming food rather than roasting it, I cannot call a handy-person to come fix my problem.
I wonder if it is because I am reading so much during this latest vacation. Sometimes I am in a writing phase, sometimes I am in a reading phase and sometimes I would rather just watch America’s Next Top Model. I would love for this writing issue to be sorted out, however, as I have made some fascinating observations during my stay, and I would like to get them down to share with my fans. Yes, I really wrote that. You know who you are.
And so I am left with one topic to use as fodder for my post: what I am reading.
Victoria and Mark (aforementioned sister and brother-in-law) love books and have an extensive library in their home. These three books caught my eye.
I love anything about Robin Hood (yes, even that silly film by Costner), so picked up the first book in the series, Hood. It re-imagines the tale, presenting Hood as a Welsh Prince in the 11th Century, whose kingdom is usurped by a French count, who has murdered his father. Loved it. Couldn’t put it down. Read it in three days. I did that thing where you stay up until midnight and you can’t keep your eyes open anymore, so have to put the book down. I can’t remember the last time I stayed up late to read a book.
I bought the other two books on Kindle.
A couple of weeks ago I finished The Art of Fielding. To say that it is a book about baseball is to over simplify a book that is indeed – a little – about baseball. It is a modern American piece about some well-drawn people with beautifully-crafted arcs. I loved it and I don’t mind baseball. The Costner films about baseball were both terrific, by the way.
I am also about 1/5 through Steve Jobs’ autobiography. I loved the start, but it has dissolved into a detailed history of Apple’s rise to infamy. I am not sure what I expected, but I am hoping to learn more about the man and less about the business.
Also on the Kindle and already capturing my attention, is the new Stephen King novel, 11.22.63. This is about a man who travels back in time to stop Kennedy’s assassination. I am fascinated by Kennedy’s reign and time travel. I also like King’s writing, so I think I will enjoy getting stuck into this one. I should mention that Costner was also in a film about Kennedy’s assassination.
I didn’t read anything today, though. I was too busy out and about with my nephew and sister at Wisley Gardens.
I am glad to have finally finished an actual post. ‘Til next time…
One book in one minute
Of course, having just read through my friend, Simonne’s, 15 books in 5 minutes (note that she claims she wrote her whole post in 5 minutes. I took 45. Hmmm), I have realized that my favorite classic of all time is not on my list (it is on hers, though).
I could argue that it is in The Pantheon of books, and that it goes without saying that it is not only a favorite, but has an inexorable ‘classic’ status. Did I really need to mention it in my 15 books in 15 minutes? (I should say that it took me less than 7 minutes to come up with my list.)
Um, yes. I did. I should have to revoke my ‘awesome English teacher’ status – for at least a week.
The book is: To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. I first read it because I had to teach it, and I discovered magic. I did everything in my power to make my students love it as much as I did – for the simply told moral tale, and for the never to be repeated writing of Harper Lee. I guess when you win the Pulitzer for your first novel, the pressure to produce a second one can be great.
Phew. Glad I got that off my chest.
15 books in 15 minutes
I love to read. In fact, I have discovered that my desire to write is affected greatly by whether or not I am reading regularly. When I read less, because I am too busy to carve out the time, I write less. When I make time to read – and I read diversely – I find that creative impulses kick in more frequently. I even write stuff in the middle of the night, if that is when inspiration strikes (like last night).
This meme, as with many of the others I have done, comes from Charlotte, whose humor and insight also inspire me.
The task: Name 15 books that ‘stick’ with me – in 15 minutes. Okay, so this took me 45 minutes (sorry Charlotte).
IT by Stephen King Truly the most terrifying book I have ever picked up. I could only read it in daylight, because it scared me so thoroughly. This proved difficult, because it is so long, and I never wanted to put it down. Dusk would come, however, and I had to close the pages so Pennywise the Clown would not get me.
Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte I read this for class at university, and I fell in love with simple Jane, and her classic Byronic hero, Rochester. I learned that ‘classics’ are deemed such for a reason. Heart-achingly told, and timeless.
Almost French by Sarah Turnbull A travel biography about an Aussie girl living in Paris with a Frenchman she fell in love with while traveling. Hilarious episodes underpinned by a sense of ‘otherness’, homesickness and doubt. Striking parallels to my own life, and validation that my writing style is commercially viable.
Dracula by Bram Stoker I am drawn mostly to the love story in this novel. I also love the Gothic genre, and this book laid a foundation for future reading, such as Anne Rice.
The Bride Stripped Bare by Anonymous Nikki Gemmell was revealed as the writer of this ‘stream of consciousness’ novel. As a reader you wonder how she crawled into your brain to extract your thoughts. She speaks dark and private truths, the things that you would NEVER say aloud.
The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold A young girl is murdered and watches helplessly from heaven as her family struggle to survive their loss, and the killer walks freely amongst her family and friends. The concept is innovative, but it is Sebold’s skill with words that makes it an extraordinary read.
Postmortem by Patricia Cornwell And so began my love affair with intelligent crime fiction, and with Kay Scarpetta. I was riveted, and because I came late to the party I was able to read 6 or 7 in quick succession. The last was a disappointment, however.
The Bronze Horseman by Paullina Simons I was given this book and it sat on my bookshelf for over a year. It is fat and I was daunted by it. I labored through the first hundred pages, and then I was carried away into Russia during WWII. Epic.
The Rabbits by John Marsden and Shaun Tan A picture book. White rabbits invade a land inhabited by bandicoots. The text is sparse and the drawings are so evocative, they bring tears to my eyes.
The Long Way Round by Ewan McGregor and Charley Boorman This was a television series, but I enjoyed the book more. They ride their motorcycles from London to London (essentially). Intriguing stuff. Importantly, it inspires me to ‘get out there and get grubby’.
Flowers in the Attic by Virginia Andrews My friends and I devoured these books throughout adolescence. Chaste schoolgirls lived vicariously through the sexual awakening of Cathy and Chris, siblings whose love was forbidden. A modern-day Gothic novel, with many bosoms heaving – inside and outside the book.
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban by J.K. Rowling My favorite of the lot. I still don’t understand the end of the last one. Perhaps the movie will shed some light.
The Lord of the Flies by William Golding I read this at 15 and my perception shifted (perhaps not for the better). I realized that there are innate traits in us that will want to rise to the surface, and that it is our job (in life) to keep them subdued. That’s pretty heady stuff for a 15 year old.
The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffeneger This is my favorite book. The writing is tough, poignant and real. Up front you have to accept that time travel is a genetic anomaly, and beyond that everything else is ‘truth’. Beautifully written, brilliantly imagined.
The Book Thief by Markus Zusak I finished this book and said, “That is the best book I have ever read.” And it is. Niffeneger is still my favorite, but The Book Thief is innovative, engaging, and gut-wrenching. Could not put it down, so finished it in about four days.
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