Showing posts with label books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label books. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Preparing for the Release of My Novel: The Life of a FICTIONAL Mom Blogger

As the Picket Fence Post family girds itself for the release this month of my novel about an oversharing blogger who gets into big trouble when her previously anonymous blogging identity is revealed and her family goes ballistic after discovering what she's been writing online, I feel compelled to state the obvious. For the record. (Imagine that I'm holding a bullhorn to my face as I say this):

My novel, Mortified: A Novel About Oversharing, is a work of fiction. Sure, it may feature a blogger who's a mom. I'm a blogger who's also a mom. The main character, Maggie Kelly, may live in suburb in the greater Boston area. I live in a suburb in the greater Boston area. But . . . I am not Maggie and Maggie -- who blogs in a raw, profanity-laden, no-holes-barred, slash-and-burn fashion -- is not me. Clearly. But I will cop to dropping curse words a little too often, as Maggie is wont to do.

The other main character, Maggie's husband Michael, is not The Spouse, although, like Michael, there was a time when my husband's job required him to attend evening meetings when our children were young. The schedule was a demanding one to maintain. Then again, having three children within three years of one another is difficult in and of itself. The columns in my first book, A Suburban Mom: Notes from the Asylum (available on Kindle!), along with my Boston Mommy Blog, are full of tales from those challenging, highly caffeinated years.

However, once Mortified is published on May 12 (Amazon link here), I'm guessing I'm going to be issuing this disclaimer quite a bit, particularly to certain people. (I'm talking to you Mom.)

How will the twin 14-year-olds and the 11-year-old react to all of this curiosity? Hopefully with the same nonchalance they treat most things involving their parents these days, unless it involves driving them someplace or handing out fistfuls of cash.

Friday, November 2, 2012

Talkin' Book-in-Progress & Families 'Over-Sharing' Online

*Cross-posted from Notes from the Asylum*

One of my favorite Boston Globe columnists, Joanna Weiss, invited me to participate in a very cool thing called a "blog hop," where one author "tags" another and the person who's "It" fields questions about her next writing project.

Weiss -- who wrote the sharp and amusing satirical novel Milkshake, about the lunacy of the political and feminist politics surrounding breastfeeding -- is working on a new book about a culture clash involving an uber-rich Boston family and working/middle class Bostonians. You can see what she wrote about her work-in-progress Beantown book here.

Weiss has tagged yours truly to answer some questions about my work-in-progress novel. Thanks Joanna! Here goes:

What is the working title of your book?

The Mortified: A Novel About Over-Sharing.

Where did the idea come from for the book?

After years of reading personal blogs, I became increasingly surprised and intrigued by how many vivid, personal details bloggers revealed online about not just themselves, but about their friends and family members. The notion of what is or isn't considered "over-sharing" fascinated me.

What genre does you book fall under?

Contemporary fiction.
 
Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

The main character, thirtysomething Maggie Kelly, who has an anonymous and profane personal blog, could be played by someone like Elisabeth Moss (Peggy Olson on Mad Men), Ginnifer Goodwin (Once Upon a Time, Big Love) or Lauren Ambrose (Six Feet Under), all of whom I think could deftly balance Maggie's emotional intensity with her desperate and darkly comedic side.

For Maggie's husband Michael -- a kind, career-focused guy who doesn't understand (and doesn't want to understand) what's causing his wife's lingering melancholy -- I picture anyone from James Marsden (30 Rock, 27 Dresses, The Notebook) and Zack Gilford (Matt Saracen from Friday Night Lights), to Joseph Gordon-Levitt (Inception, (500) Days of Summer) playing that role.

The third main character is Michael's mother Dorothy, who I describe as a militant Emily Post in sensible shoes. I could envision actresses such as Kelly Bishop (Gilmore Girls, Bunheads) or Mary Kay Place (Big Love) stepping into Dorothy's petite Easy Spirit loafers.

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

The Mortified asks readers this question: What would you do if your spouse blogged about how you are a self-centered, unsupportive jerk, who happens to be lousy in bed, and then, after the blog went viral, your mother and your colleagues read the punishingly graphic commentary?

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

I'm currently in talks with an indie publisher. (*fingers crossed*)

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

A year-and-a-half.

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

I'd liken The Mortified to something I might read from Jennifer Weiner who, like me, is a former newspaper reporter. Weiner's novel Then Came You, for example, explores the many complex and emotional sides of surrogacy, similar to the way I think The Mortified delves into the consequences of over-sharing online. Fellow New England resident Tom Perrotta's Little Children -- which addresses the loneliness of at-home parenthood coupled with suburban hysteria -- and The Abstinence Teacher -- that tackles the clash of sex education and religious values -- used similarly no-nonsense approaches to analyzing current social issues.

Who or what inspired you to write this book?

My mother made this off-handed comment about my writing one day, saying, "You used to be funnier." And she was right, at least when it came to my personal blog. Once my children got wise to this thing called the Internet and the handy little tool called Google, I started cordoning off vast quantities of would-be amusing anecdotes behind bright orange traffic cones in an "off-limits" zone. The result of choosing family privacy over material that would've made for good blog posts? Some of the best, funniest tales were banned from the blog, per my children's request.

But what was happening inside the homes of people who didn't seem to do much holding back on their blogs? Were their husbands or wives unhappy with having their sex lives dissected online? Did their children feel over-exposed? Did their families even know that they were being discussed on a blog? Hence . . . The Mortified, a book about a suburban woman who, to cope with her feelings of being oppressed by matrimony and maternity, started what she thought was an anonymous, brutally honest blog where she would vent her unpleasant feelings about her life's disappointments.

What else about your book might pique the readers' interest?

People who publish very personal information about their loved ones online -- whether on blogs or on social media platforms such as Facebook or Twitter -- might have a strong reaction to the question of what constitutes "over-sharing." While The Mortified chronicles incidents in various characters' pasts where they were embarrassed by something someone had said about them, the difference is that in the modern era, embarrassing accusations and remarks can now be detailed in blogs and social media. And they can go viral. Mortification via Google.

*Be sure to check out the author who I have tagged as she's working on her very own "Next Big Thing:" Suzanne Strempek Shea, the author of eight books, including five novels, such as Selling the Lite of Heaven, Hoopi Shoopi Donna and Becoming Finola. Suzanne and I both worked for the same newspaper in western Massachusetts back in the day. I can't wait to read her answers.*

Image credits: Amazon.com, Jack Rowand/ABC.

Friday, April 13, 2012

Finally . . . We've Finished Reading 'The Half-Blood Prince.' Now Onto 'Deathly Hallows.'

*Warning -- If you haven't read Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, don't read any more of this post unless you want the book's ending spoiled for you.*

It has taken The Spouse and I more than a year to read Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince aloud to The Youngest Boy (who, by the way, gave me special permission to write about him in this post). We finally finished the 652-page opus last night all the way to its sad and dreary conclusion. Harry Potter, the boy whose parents were killed when he was just a baby (his mother while putting her body in front of his), had to watch as his mentor, his fierce protector, was killed. It was only a little more than a year after his godfather, who he was just getting to know, was also murdered in front of his eyes.

Dumbledore's funeral, the lump in Harry's throat, that dread that was weighing on the boy's chest as he broke up with Ginny in order to protect her and his realization that he was embarking on a quest that could very well lead to his own death, all of it was so very bleak. Black hole kind of bleak.

The Youngest Boy was, as one might well imagine, quite melancholy and surprisingly muted when I asked him what he thought about how the book ended. When I first read it, not having known ahead of time what happened to Dumbledore, I shed tears, mostly for Harry who had already suffered so many losses and was really truly alone, with the exception of his teenage besties, Ron and Hermione.

I'm curious as to how The Youngest Boy will react when he sees the film's version of this tale (the weakest of all the Potter films) and sees Dumbledore die. (The Girl fled the movie theater when that happened, so tearful was she. It broke my heart.) Watching that movie is on our "To Do" list for the school vacation week.

As we prepare to embark upon the journey of the 784 pages that constitute Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, I'm likewise wondering how The Youngest Boy will perceive the darkness that saturates this final book, the long periods of despair and loneliness our fearless trio faces as they attempt to locate and destroy the remaining Horcruxes before Harry attempts to slay Voldemort.

For those of you who are keeping track at home -- or keeping tabs on my Harry Potter: Reading Out Loud Project page -- between The Spouse and I, we've read 3,395 pages of this series aloud to The Youngest Boy. Wonder if it'll take us another year to tackle the last installment.

Image credits: Amazon.

Friday, September 2, 2011

16,000 Pages

When the summer began, the Spouse and I issued a challenge to the Picket Fence Post kids: Set your own reading goal and if you reach it, you’ll get a (reasonable) reward of your choosing.

The Girl picked the ambitious goal of reading 10,000 pages. If my resident Rory Gilmore made it, she asked that she be taken to Legal Sea Foods to lunch by one of her parents. No brothers allowed, please.

The Eldest Boy -- who was busy “studying” for his fantasy football team draft and playing on his drum set throughout the summer – set a goal of 5,000 pages. His request if he achieved the goal: “Financial help” from The Spouse and I to purchase a particular cymbal for his drum set for which he’d been saving up.

As for The Youngest Boy, my resident reluctant reader -- with whom The Spouse and I are still reading aloud the Harry Potter series (we’re roughly mid-way through book six) -- he selected a somewhat more modest goal: 1,000 pages and asked to be taken to play laser tag if he reached it.

The Girl reached her goal weeks ago, no sweat. She's always reading, so I never worried she'd fall short. On Tuesday I paid up and we enjoyed a lively lunch together at Legal Sea Foods (wonderful lobster salad for me, grilled scallops for her, plus she got Boston creme pie for dessert). No brothers.

Things weren't as easy for The Eldest Boy who'd put off his reading. As the first day of school grew closer, he realized he was in danger of not making it to 5,000 pages. For the past week, he holed himself up in his room voraciously reading so he’d be eligible to get his reward. There was one night last week when I asked him if he wanted to watch an episode of The Mentalist with me – that’s “our” thing together – and he said he absolutely couldn’t which was surprising because he rarely passes up a chance to watch TV. “Mom, if I don’t keep reading I’ll never make it,” he said. But he did make it and with his reward, his birthday money and money he'd saved, he got his cymbal.

The Youngest Boy thought he’d achieved his 1,000 pages a few weeks ago, until The Spouse took a look at his reading list and told the kid he needed to recalculate as he hadn't quite made it yet. The 10-year-old hustled and reached his goal at the end of last week. Now he’s waiting for his laser tag (to which I'm hoping The Spouse takes him).

The reading incentive worked so well, that I'm thinking we should do another round of it, maybe every four months so the goals would seem reasonable. For the 10-year-old who’d rather play video games, the more we can get him to read, the better.