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My Writer's Journal

New York, New York

May 18, 2011
The High Line near the Hudson River
By-product of the trip to Des Moines was bronchitis, which was in full force when I left for a long-planned trip to NYC on May 1st. I coughed all through a meeting about marketing plans for CLEOPATRA CONFESSES; Editor Paula filled me with hot tea so I could record a video for YouTube.

Most interesting meal: at a restaurant called "Mary, Queen of Scots" where I ate salmon kedgerie with Editors Julie and Jeanette. It turned out to be herbed and spiced rice with pea broth (???) and grilled salmon. Very good, but I'll bet my WILD QUEEN never ate anything like it.

Most interesting new NYC spot: the Highline, a long, narrow park that follows an old rail line along the Hudson. Spent a lovely, peaceful hour here. Read More 
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A little traveling music

April 27, 2011
I have just come back from Des Moines, where I spent less than 24 hours with a wonderful group of librarians (Title of my talk: BUT IS IT TRUE? Talking about Historical Fiction). I also spent almost that many hours getting there and back. It was a dark and stormy night - and day - and a lot of planes weren't flying, or weren't flying on time. And then there was the airport bus that wouldn't stop for me, never mind what the website said. And the guy on the airline customer "help" line who thought it would be a good idea to send me from Denver, where I missed my connection, to spend the night in Los Angeles and then fly home to Albuquerque from there. (I finally caught a flight from Denver that had me here an hour later.)

Fortunately I had a really good book to read (see Home Page).

Maybe tomorrow I won't be too tired to write - or even think. But today I am. Read More 
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What I did all weekend

April 7, 2011
It sometimes seems that I write all the time. Not true. I do write most of the time--today is one of those 8-hour writing days--but I also take time for other things, especially on weekends. For instance, here's how I spent my time last weekend during those hours when I got away from my desk:

FRI: Went to a 5 pm gallery opening for an exhibit of exquisite monographs and papercuts by a friend who also illustrates children's books. From there to a poetry reading by a poet I adore (I happen to be married to him). Talked to friends at both places. Read in bed.

SAT: Walked to the French bakery and bought croissants. Talked to a man standing in line who was in town for a conference. I asked about the conference. "Forensic psychologists," he said. "Friends of psychologists?" I asked, not hearing clearly. I do that all the time, unfortunately. Wrote all afternoon.

SAT evening: Went to the movies to see "Jane Eyre." Naturally, I loved it. My kind of movie--historical setting, dramatic story, fine acting.

SUN: Watched a movie about Aldo Leopold, naturalist and conservationist. Wrote all afternoon. Cooked dinner for my son Chris and his girlfriend, who brought their new dog for a first visit. Worked on the NY Times crossword puzzle after
they left.

MON: Usual 3-mile morning walk, starting at 6:30. And so the week began.... Read More 
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Cleopatra, as I remember her

March 25, 2011
Elizabeth Taylor as Cleopatra
Two years ago I began work on CLEOPATRA CONFESSES. From the start, the only image I could keep in my mind was Elizabeth Taylor as she appeared in a movie made decades ago. I seriously doubt that there was even a passing physical resemblance between the two, but one thing they did have in common was a kind of magic that becomes a legend. Cleopatra had it. So did Elizabeth Taylor.

I adored Elizabeth Taylor when I was a kid. I read about her and envied her beauty. She was never an awkward teenager (like me, before braces). There was no caterpillar-to-butterfly transition. She went directly from being a beautiful, talented girl to being a beautiful, talented woman.

She led a complicated life. So, too, did Cleopatra, as I learned along the way. Being a legend wasn't easy. It never is. Read More 
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How I Began

March 13, 2011
Kids ask me how old I was when I started writing and when I knew that I wanted to be a writer. In fact I think I always knew, but it took me a long time to figure out how to make it happen. I read a lot when I was young, and I wrote a lot, starting in about 3rd grade; edited the school newspaper and class yearbook; majored in English in college; thought about journalism, flirted with the idea of going into TV but abandoned it because there were scarcely any women working in television in those days, certainly not in important jobs. So I worked as a secretary for awhile, hated it, got married, had a baby, settled down as a housewife, and hated that, too.

When I was 25 I started to write seriously, hours every day. At first everything I submitted was rejected. I persisted. Finally, an acceptance. I kept at it. Had two more children and tried to figure out how to write with kids around, sent them off to sitters, hired teenagers to entertain them. My oldest son later complained that I ignored them. I defended myself: "I was always there when they got home from school." He said, "Yes, but you weren't thinking about us. You were thinking about writing."

Guilty as charged.

Eventually they grew up, and eventually I became an established writer. We all survived, even thrived. There are undoubtedly easier ways to make a life, but I can't think of any that for me would be more satisfying. Read More 
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Rewriting the Rewrite

March 6, 2011
CLEOPATRA CONFESSES will be published in June, and now I'll make a confession of my own: I really like to do rewrites. I didn't always feel this way. The first time an editor told me that I needed to do some reworking, that the plot sagged in the middle and fell flat at the end, I threw a fit. Politely, of course. And the characters were two-dimensional. What? And maybe I should think about writing it in first person instead of third. By then I was lying on the floor, hyperventilating.

I did eventually pull myself together and tried--reluctantly at first--to follow my editor's suggestions. And to my amazement, the manuscript really did seem better. Now it was perfect, or so I assumed.

Wrong! Could I shorten this, add some description here and here and here, and for goodness sake let the reader know how the main character FEELS?

Oh, lord. So, after a few nights of tossing and turning and several days of obsessing, I run it through again. Much better! But could I do just a teeny bit more?

Now, years later and many books later, I've learned to enjoy the process, even to depend on it. That manuscript I sent in weeks ago wasn't really finished. It was, I discovered, more like a first draft, even though I'd been hovering over it for months. A first draft with still a long way to go, and I might as well make the most of the journey. Read More 
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On Writer's Block

February 20, 2011
This week I did an on-line interview with a reader who submitted a list of questions--Why do you write, What are you working on now, and then this one (TWICE!): How do you deal with writer's block?

Short answer: I don't. Longer answer: It's a non-issue. To tell the truth, I don't believe such a thing really exists, merely a refusal (or inability) to tough it out when the going gets tough, to keep going even when nothing seems to work. A cruel answer, I suppose. It's not that I don't get discouraged or feel that everything I'm writing is crap--because I often feel that way. At times I can't immediately figure out how to solve a problem, or a character seems dull or the whole thing is an unredeemable mess. That happens too. Sometimes my ideas bore me silly and I wonder if I should just give it up. But writer's block? No. Not a problem.

So what are we talking about when we talk about writer's block? I know a number of you out there are writers, some just getting started, others old hands with lots of experiences. So what does the term mean to you? And what advice do you have to give to those who think it IS a problem? Let me know! Read More 
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Birthday boys: Charley and Abe

February 12, 2011
Darwin and Lincoln
Born the same day, 202 years ago, thousands of miles apart. Everybody knows the story of the poor kid born in a log cabin, learned to read by the light of a little fireplace, walked miles to return 2 cents to somebody, or was it a dime? The stuff of legends who grew up to become the President of the United States. But how many know the story of the rich kid born in a small English town, suffered through boarding school, could not figure out what to do with himself, became one of the most significant natural scientists in the world.

Read THE TRUE ADVENTURES OF CHARLEY DARWIN and find about the fascinating man behind the long, white beard. Read More 
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Charley Darwin's Untrue Love

February 7, 2011
Fanny Owen
The year is 1831, and Charley is preparing to leave on his voyage around the world. He thinks he'll be gone for two years, and he writes a note to Fanny, the girl he loves, expressing his hope that she will not forget him. She writes back: "Wherever I may be and whatever changes may have happen'd, none there will ever be in my opinion of you--so do not, my dear Charles, talk of forgetting."
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The Month of Charley Darwin's True Adventures

February 1, 2011
This handsome dude is Charley Darwin, just back from his adventures on the Beagle
I celebrated the 200th birthday of Charles Darwin in 2009 with THE TRUE ADVENTURES OF CHARLEY DARWIN, in which Charley is the narrator. He describes his childhood in England, his miseries at boarding school, his doomed love for Fanny Owen, and his decision to sail around the world with a brilliant but neurotic sea captain, all of this leading up to the scientific discoveries that have changed the way we look at the world.

Since that book appeared two years ago, THE BAD QUEEN has been published; I've visited Egypt and completed CLEOPATRA CONFESSES, due out in June; done several drafts of THE WILD QUEEN, about Mary, Queen of Scots; and made a good start on VICTORIA RULES.

But my heart still belongs to Charley. Maybe it's because I spent time in Shrewsbury, England, where I visited his school room and wandered through his boyhood home. And by lucky chance I met a great-great-great nephew of Fanny Owen who invited me to his home, the very house where Charley once courted Fanny, the garden where he kissed her. I trudged through a downpour to gaze from a distance at the Wedgwood mansion where Charley spent holidays (it's private property, and the owner is known to be unfriendly). And frankly, I fell in love with Charley.

Charley Darwin's is a great story. I hope more readers will discover it when the paperback is released this month, and that they will fall in love with him, just as I did. Read More 
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