It’s been a bit since I’ve done a blog, but when I saw The Picky Bookworm’s blog, 10 Books That Changed My Life, I was inspired and thought it might be fun. It wound up being longer than I anticipated and apparently I'm even a rebel or indecisive (depending on how you look at it) when it comes to this, so there's also three-five honorable mentions. So, here we go… 1. My Mama Had A Dancing Heart by Libba Moore Gray This has remained my all-time favorite children’s book. My Mama Had A Dancing Heart meant the world to me as someone who loved ballet and dancing from a very young age. When I was in dance class (about five years, I think), I loved that my mother took dance when she was that same age. My mother was in a wheelchair for about eight years, but that never stopped her dancing with me. This is something we wrote about in our upcoming children’s book (also co-written with my brother). I have many fond memories of sitting on her lap as she spun us in her wheelchair or dancing in the pool as we loudly and off-key belted out “Ten Minutes Ago” from the 1960’s Cinderella. When she began walking again (a journey you can read about in her book, The Unchained Spirit), I have fond memories of blasting music with her and wiggling around the room. My brother and I still joke around about the earthquake she would make stomping her feet on the wooden floors in the house of our teenage years as she rocked out to the opening of “Rolling in the Deep.” The connection doesn’t just end there, though. My mother always tends to make things magical and a celebration. The joy and wonder of the seasons and the various aspect of those seasons from the lemonade to the seashells to the falling leaves really matched all my mother offered me and continues to offer me in my day to day. Just like in the book, too, this influence is something I have taken with me in my adult life. The two of us often joke we are more Gilmore girls than the Gilmore Girls, but in a lot of ways this book is a reflection of what our relationship has always been. I have such a thing for word play and the flow of words when reading and writing. Looking back, this is probably one of the origins. The lyrical prose of the book still excites me and I can see its influence in my own writing when I get really into it. 2. Anne of Green Gables by LM Montgomery Perhaps not a great shock, my connection between books and people doesn’t just end with my mom and My Mama Had A Dancing Heart. Her love of reading and the freedom of exploration with books that she gave my brother and I was handed down by her own parents. My grandmother’s all-time favorite book was Anne of Green Gables. I’m pretty sure she owned every book L.M. Montgomery ever wrote. I still have most of her Anne books that still have her name written in them. I also have her Anne doll and figurine, too. She had hats and visited Prince Edward Island so many times. So much of these books and the first two of the Megan Follows movies are a huge part of my lexicon and references that even my boyfriend will occasionally reference them. My best friend and I call each other kindred spirits and bosom buddies. Of course, it’s not just this connection. Though as Emma Marsden in To Miss the Stars says, “Somehow the story of the book enhances the story within it.” Anne Shirley was my literary kindred spirit and mirror-friend. She is so beautifully human. From her passion and her stubbornness to her creativity, intelligence, and hope, she made me feel a little less alone in a world that is not always kind to little girls who don’t always fit in. 3. Treasure of Ravenwood by Barbara Lieberman I have written multiple times before about The Treasure of Ravenwood and what it means to me, between my small business blog and on Vocal (free to read there, too). My mother says I learned to write so I could write down my stories. My Pop-Pop used to tell my mom that when I was alone in the car with him, I would start talking when the key went into the ignition until the car was in park. For me, though, I always felt like I became a writer at my mother’s keyboard. It was part of my nightly routine. I even was permitted to stay up passed my bedtime to listen to whatever more she wrote so long as I brushed her hair. I often was disappointed when we reached the end and I had to wait until the next night to find out what happened next. She is a pantser, so often she herself did not know, either. I always looked forward to those evening, just the two of us, smiles illuminated by the glow of her computer screen, heart beating to the pulsing of the cursor. To see the evolution of the story and the process was pure magic. I had a front row seat at watching inspiration turn to ideas and watch my mom weave words into a story. I think there’s a disconnect between books and storytelling. There’s an almost fantastical, other-worldly feel. An unobtainable dream that gets laughed off, the way an adult placatingly pats the head of a child who declares they want to be “a superhero” or “mermaid” when they grow up. My mom, who of course is a magical superhero in her own right, wrote this book from beginning to end because I asked. But, my mom was someone tangible. She wasn’t some black and white photo on a back cover or a name in a textbook. She was real in a way other authors never felt before. And, in seeing her do it, it made me feel like I could, too. It was the same way when she published Treasure of Ravenwood in 2014 (my first publish book was a year later). It took the writing journey to the next level for me and I sat back and thought, “Maybe I can, too.” 4. Number the Star by Lois Lowry Number the Stars was a book my class read in third or fourth grade. I believe I was the only Jewish kid in class. I am half Jewish. The holocaust was something that I just sort of always knew about. I, also, knew my family was affected by it but the story my brother and I were told was a sort of fuzzy jumble. It’s only been recently, the past year or two, that I learned the exact details. This book, however, was the first time pretty much all of my classmates heard about the Holocaust. (By the way, if anyone is looking for a book to introduce their kids to this part of history, I highly recommend this one!) This book will always hold a special place in my heart. It plucked those ancestral strings for me. It was the first time that part of my identity was represented in a place like the classroom. It was the first time that part of me felt seen. It was also the first time this fuzzy jumble that cut so deep had words, had a reason for being, could air out. It was like realizing I was bleeding for the first time and finally getting some Neosporin. I wish I had more words, better words to explain it. 5. Les Miserables by Victor Hugo Fast forward to eighth grade. This was during the height of the Twilight phenomenon. I will not bash a book that others love, but I will say that it was not a book for me. Somewhere across space and time, at least ten people are randomly feeling the need to shout “THAT’S AN UNDERSTATEMENT!” I wanted something heavier, something deeper, something more meaningful, something more challenging. About a year before, we had moved across country from a fairly progressive suburban community and schools to a rural middle-of-nowhere, minds were as small as the town itself kind of community and schools. There were thirteen kids in the graduating class of the entire school to give a little more perspective. Everyone was reading and lauding Twilight as though it was the finest literature had to offer. I grew up with Les Miserables musical, the 10th Anniversary Dream Cast VHS to be exact. My brother and I would make our living room couches into the barricades and we were so young my brother pronounced it “ang-grah-gen” when doing a rendition of “Do You Hear the People Sing?” It would be about two-three years later that my mother would take my brother and I to see it live on a special trip to celebrate our high school graduation (a story for another time). This book remains one of my all-time favorites. It took some perseverance to finish, as well. There are parts I struggled with (really Hugo, I can’t say I care about the history of a piece of furniture that has nothing to do with the rest of the story). I also struggled with the book because of school. Reading in terms of school was always horrible for me for a number of reasons. This time, though, there were moments where it often felt like the teachers also were punishing me for my reading choices. At one point, there was a Read Across America activity that involved making a reading chain based on the number of books everyone in class finished. There’s a huge difference between a 200-400 page book and Les Miserables. Fortunately, I had the support of my mother and the love of the story I already knew. As for the book itself, it was amazing to see what the writers of the musical kept, left out, and changed and why. I was excited to learn that they even kept some of the direct quotes. It was also interesting to see how the newer version of the musical and even new movie added elements to stay even more true to the original work. I was also fascinated to learn the history behind the book and the author. It was exciting to get lost in the rabbit hole for a while and I still remember a great deal of that history itself. One of the things that always struck with me about the story itself was that for a book called “The Miserables,” the amount of hope and beauty and love within the darkness. It’s something I’ve taken with me in my own life and, once more, see a huge influence in my own writing, as well. It’s a common theme I can’t help but explore. 6. I Am An Emotional Creature by Eve Ensler One more a book from eighth grade and I’m beginning to see a pattern that I never realized before. Eighth grade sucked. There’s no other way to put it. It just royally sucked. I hated my teacher and I hated school (funny enough I wanted to be a teacher because of that). See above for some reference on this year of my life in particular. On top of this, I have been a feminist since before I could properly pronounce the word “feminist.” I was the youngest member of the New Jersey NOW chapter when I was eight and even did a presentation on Title IV. I’ve done deep dives into women’s rights and women’s history since about that time, too. So it was yet another way I struggled with this backward town and the people in it and the isolation among my peers. Probably not a shock by now, but my mother introduced me to Eve Ensler around this time. We watched The Vagina Monologues (Netflix was a life-saver even back then) and she handed me I Am An Emotional Creature. I swear my mother and this book of poetry was the only thing that got me through this year. Her poem, My Short Skirt, became my saving grace as I battled outrageous dress codes at school, rape culture and the sexism of everyday society that I was keenly aware of. The entire book returned to me that feeling of power I used to get in NOW meetings and it is a book that I will never part with. 7. The Fault in Our Stars by John Green My bosom buddy and kindred spirit, sometime after eighth grade, recommended this book to me. She said it was a book about characters who had cancer and fall in love. I remember thinking, absolutely no way. To make matters worse, it was a contemporary YA, which after the Twilight phenomenon, felt over-saturated with superficial drama and love triangles. This was a genre I tended to steer clear of. She said it made readers cry, but it also was really funny and intelligent. It was my best friend, who recommended books I loved before like Alosha, and her recommendations have never steered me wrong before, so despite my initial misgivings, I thought I’d try it. Boy, am I glad I did! Once more, my friend proved to be the best EVER. I fell in love with the works of John Green. It was real. It was moving. It was deep. It was raw. It was honest. I credit this book with making me fall in love with Young Adult books once more. I went on to read a number of his other books and still highly recommend them to any readers. There is nothing superficial about these stories. It is through TFIOS that I learned about Esther Earl, who the book is dedicated to, and the This Star Won’t Go Out organization. This incredible organization supports children with cancer and their families in a number of really amazing and practical ways. It’s an organization that appreciates any support given but deserves so much more recognition and support than it receives. I work with them through my handmade business, Acorn Tops, and part of the proceeds of any of my TFIOS inspired creations goes to support them. I highly recommend checking them out and following them across social media and supporting them anyway you can (they’re also a charity on Amazon Smiles). I also highly recommend the book This Star Won’t Go Out: The Life and Words of Esther Grace Earl. 8. On the Road by Jack Kerouac One of my favorite types of books is banned or challenged books. I have a mild obsession with these books and their history. Around 2014-2015, I got really into Howl and Other Poems by Allen Ginsberg and the Beat Generation. I picked up On the Road and didn’t just love it, but I devoured it. I enjoyed the style of writing greatly and so many quotes felt like it spoke to my soul. Like I’ve said before, I have a thing for words, word play, and turns of phrase. Just one of the ways it changed my life was in the area of writing. I came across the quote “One day I will find the words and they will be simple” and suddenly everything just sort of clicked. It’s sort of like what my mother always said, “Just write.” There’s so much noise, obnoxious noise, about how to write and the rules and other bull shit. That one quote, coupled with my mother’s advice, allowed me space to take all the unhelpful advice with a grain of salt. To take what works and leave what doesn’t, a philosophy I’ve had for a while now in all aspects of my life. Writing simply or simply writing took off the pressure and helped me to tap into the flow and make me the writer that I am. 9. Society’s Foundlings Around this same time, I wrote my first published book, Society’s Foundlings. I’ve discussed the beginning of Society’s Foudlings on podcasts with Over Coffee Podcast. I’ve written a couple different blogs about it here, too. To sum up, I was eighteen when I wrote this and published it when I was nineteen. It was a dark year for me. I was, once more, struggling with a lot and it didn’t help to have the society around me discount the hardships I was facing with mental health and trying to figure out my future, not someone else’s definition of what that should look like. Life was hard enough without having someone else tell me this was the best it was ever going to be. Writing has always been a sort of therapy. It’s like breathing. But, this book was like taking a deep breath after drowning. Once more, a book and people in my life like my mother, got me through. Perhaps most life changing for me, though, was that this was the book that started it all for my writing career. I’ve been writing since I could hold a pencil, but my mother published her first book a year previously, as did my fairy godmother, and both I had the immense honor of not only being there through the entire publishing process, but also was a beta-reader. It inspired me to do the same and I have been writing and publishing ever since. 10. The Once and Future Witches by Alix Harrow I wrote a book review of The Once and Future Witches which you can find here. That review pretty sums up my absolute love of this book. Hands down it is one of my all-time top favorites! By no means am I quick reader. Even just a 300 page book can take me months at a time. It doesn’t help that I tend to keep my plate very full and since leaving college reading has fallen to the wayside between writing, illustrating, and my handmade small business, Acorn Tops. This book, however, grabbed me the moment I first heard about it. Witchcraft and women’s suffrage… I felt like it was written for me just from the blurb alone. Then, I read it. And, I devoured it faster than I ever devoured any other book. I’m talking a weekend and staying up until very late to finish just one more chapter. By the end, I was licking my fingers in satisfaction and shoved it into my mother’s hands demanding she read it right then and there so we could discuss it. Since, I’ve read Alix Harrow’s newest novella, A Spindle Splintered, and this same new, strange phenomenon occurred once more. It’s re-sparked that love of reading. It also helped put into perspective other books I had been struggling to read. This was beyond a five star and I loved it. Other books were a bit of a frustrating drudge to get through and it reinforced the idea that it was okay to not finish a book I wasn’t madly in love with. That if books like this exist, you don’t have to dig through the rocks to find the ones that are diamonds for you. The story itself, as discussed in my review, made my own righteous anger feel seen and justified in a way it rarely does in the world at large. It talked about what it meant to be a woman in a way that left me feeling powerful and my tongue and fingertips tingle as though I was reading a spell. It excited the reader in me, the writer in me, and the woman in me. Honorable mentions... Go Ask Alice by Anonymous To fully explain this book, we have to go back in time a little bit. My mother blames my Pop-Pop for this and, somewhere beyond the pearly gates, he gladly takes the blame. When my mother was in fifth grade, my grandfather was on the school board and the school wanted to ban the book from the library. Around the dinning room table, he asked who in the house had read it. My aunt said she did. My uncle said he did. And my mother, the youngest of the bunch, said she did. He asked what they all thought and unanimously they agreed that it scared them and made them never want to touch drugs. He listened and went back to the school board and said “Absolutely not” to banning it. Fast forward. I’m in fifth grade. My mom hands me the book and I go to town reading it. I read it at home. I read it on the bus. And, I read it in the classroom. Where the teacher stops by my desk, takes a look at the book, takes a look at me, and promptly says in a very disapproving tone, “Does your mother know you’re reading this?” Now, I come from a household that firmly believes in reading anything and everything. No books were off limits, because my Pop-pop always said that. We’ve dealt with the school questioning this somewhat before. My mom often had to write letters to our teachers stating that she demanded we be allowed to go into sections of the scholastic book fair that were intended for older grades and reading levels. She believed in raising the bar, especially if we showed an interest and when it came to reading. Never had content been a question for me, though. “My mother was the one who gave it to me,” I replied, confused but also annoyed at the implication that something like a book should be considered off limits, especially after the library had already questioned me checking it out. Looking back, this was probably where my love of banned and challenged books come from. Witch of Blackbird Pond by Elizabeth George Speare and The Crucible by Arthur Miller… That’s right a two in one and on opposite sides of the spectrum for me. That is to say, one I loathed and the other I adored. Once more, we have a bad reading experience with school and my mother who saved the day. Picture it. Eighth grade. Height of Twilight. Les Miserables in my backpack. And, the teacher decides that the class is going to read The Witch of Blackbird Pond. Since this experience, I have heard nothing but amazing and wonderful things about The Witch of Blackbird Pond. I will admit, the fact that I was being forced to read this book and that it was the eighth-grade teacher who was enforcing this probably colored a lot of my opinions about it. Needless to say, this was another one I hated. You might be asking, why then bother to even include it? Well, school life and home life was a bit of night and day at this time for me. My mother once more makes an appearance. This was required reading and was necessary to pass a class. Instead of fighting me each night to do what felt like ridiculous tasks I couldn’t care less about for a book I despised with all the passions of Anne Shirley, she decided, instead], to teach me a few tricks to get through it. “Read the first and last sentences of each chapter” was one of them. These were very similar tricks that she taught her GED students for how to study and tricks that got me through a lot of my college courses. She didn’t just stop there, though. I was interested in history and the Salem Witch trials intrigued me, but was something I hadn’t explored much of before. Seeing me bored out of my mind with Witch of Blackbird Pond and frustrated that classroom “discussions” were all right-or-wrong answers one would find on a test that was designed purely to prove someone read the book, she handed me The Crucible. I devoured it. I adored it. I was hooked. She went a step further. She began discussing allegory with me and the connection the play had to McCarthyism. She went on to show me a movie version (back when Netflix was borrowed DVDs in the mail), the making of the movie, at least one documentary for the Witch Trials and one for McCarthy era, a nonfiction book about the witch trials, and Jonathan Livingston Seagull. Waggles by Evangeline Duran Fuentes and Why Does The Moon Follow Me by Barbara Lieberman
These two books were the first ones I ever illustrated. These were the start of my illustrating career and since I’ve illustrated books for a few other authors, as well as my own. Both these authors were a pleasure to work with and I couldn't have asked for a more positive beginning in the world of illustrating.
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"I don't merely want to survive. I want to live..."~ Society's Foundlings, Ellie Lieberman Survival vs. living is a theme commonly found in my books, including Society's Foundlings when resources and finances are limited or Solving for X when fear rules the world. It can also be found in my upcoming books, like Be (a prequel short story can be found in The Playlist Anthology). When we first think survival, we often think Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. In a nice, geometrically organized pyramid, it lays the foundation for the necessities in life. First and foremost are the physical needs in this structure. Food, water, rest, etc. Next are the psychological, going in order of safety, social interactions, self-esteem, and the such. The idea is you can't get to the more complex psychological levels until the physical needs are met. There is a truth to this. My grandfather always said, "Feed them first." Whenever anyone came to the door in need, the first thing he would do is offer them food, because it's easier to come up with solutions on a full stomach. Child Development shows this, too. If a child hasn't eaten breakfast before class starts, there is more difficulty learning. When one level is achieved it is easier to move up the hierarchy. That being said, we often forget that we need all of it. If a physical need is not met due to poverty, for example, or a safe environment is not or has not been provided, whether through abuse or war or natural disaster or what have you, as human beings we crave all aspect of the pyramid, still. There is often the idea that people who are missing one of these levels need solely that level. Kids in poverty just need food, often forgetting they are still kids. Yes, they need food for breakfast before class, but they are also kids who see their friends at school getting bags of chips and cookies with their lunches or coloring with sparkly crayons during free time. If you donate to charities or gift drives for kids in need, yes, necessities are essential (underwear, socks, toothbrushes), but also realize they need the magic of holidays and special events, too (toys, games, candy, things that allow them to be a kid despite limiting circumstance). When a fire burned down my mother's house when she was younger, a friend of the family made shoe boxes of toiletries. It had tooth brushes, deodorant, etc, but it also had perfume and little extras that weren't necessarily a necessity. There's a reason why there are hairstylists that spend their free time offering free services to people who are homeless. Sometimes what is needed when a lower level isn't achieved is what Maslow considered a higher level. Often times, Maslow's pyramid is the wrong shape. Like life, it cannot be so easily organized. Often times, what is needed is not survival, but living. Recently, someone I follow on twitter observed they do not include their characters eating at all in their writing. This made me think of my own writing and made me think of my old blog, Popcorn: More Than Just A Minor Detail. Sometimes in books, details are just details. Blue curtains could just happen to be blue and the meaning we take from these details are often what we ourselves, as readers, read into the books. But, sometimes, as authors we intend these details to carry more weight. I can't say I always intend for food to be important to the characters and my books, but food tends to be very important to me. A lot of this is family traditions, like Prime Rib, Yorkshire Pudding, and Green Beans Amadine on Christmas Eve and Chinese Food on Christmas. Some of this could also be influenced by my Jewish background, like Latkas on Hanukkah or Matzoh on Passover. Outside of traditions and holidays, it's the slice and bake cookie dough or mom's mac and cheese. It's no wonder then that food shows up frequently in my writing, whether it's the popcorn in Society's Foundlings, baking birthday butter biscuits in The Butter Thief, growing tomatoes in Ben's Little Tomato, imagining different uses of pumpkins in Peggy's Little Pumpkin, or drinking hot chocolate in The Memory Tree. There's traditions, memories, and connection tied to the food in The Butter Thief, Ben's Little Tomato, Peggy's Little Pumpkin, and The Memory Tree. In Society's Foundlings, popcorn is lack of money and resources. It is a dividing line, the feeling of being an outsider, a reminder of all the goals and dreams that are still out of reach, friendship, and feelings of belonging and security depending on the character. In an upcoming WIP, food is always a source of tension between siblings. There's frustration in lack of resources, but also frustration in what has and has not changed from the past. There is still that feeling of belonging or exclusion. What does food mean to you? How do you use food in your own writing? Society’s Foundlings has been called “A modern day Outsiders” by a few reviewers. There are parallels that could be drawn, whether it is the financial situation the characters live in and their relationships to each other, as well as their relationship to others from a different socioeconomic status, especially Sampson and Nicole Brennerman. In a recent blog post on Pipe & Thimble, I even mentioned my book would probably be banned for the same reasons The Outsiders was banned. The title itself, Society’s Foundlings, holds a similar meaning and can often evoke a similar feeling or reaction to “The Outsiders.” When searching for a title, I wracked my brain for a good one that emphasized the meaning behind the story. I played around with titles like “The Lost Boys,” and eventually wound up looking up synonyms to “orphans.” Orphans, of course, did not sit well because the issue was not that they were without an influence of the society around them or orphaned from their families. What it boiled down to was abandonment. They felt abandoned by the society around them and each other. That’s when I remembered the term from Oscar Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest. A foundling is someone who has been abandoned by their parents and is discovered and cared for by others. Though, not necessarily in the everyday vernacular, the obscure term seemed a perfect fit for my four boys. They feel very much, as Gina Capobianco puts it in one of her poems from her new book, Conscious Connection, “I am an outsider in a world that surrounds me. Watching, but never truly a part, Fading in and out of the scenery, I long for permanence. Long to belong somewhere, anywhere.” And, we see this in many ways. Between the invisibility felt by Math, Sampson’s views of teachers/his father and his father’s apartment/bosses, and, more subtly, the lack of anyone outside his core group of friends, except Amy Bishop, mentioned by Clem. One of the main differences, though between S.E. Hinton’s The Outsiders and my Society’s Foundlings, though, comes from not only feeling outside of “a world that surrounds me,” but also feeling as though that world has completely abandoned them. It’s not just the outside looking in, but the idea of loss, whether it’s something they once had like Carver and Sampson’s relationship or it’s something they never had but know was or should be possible like Math and his relationship to his father, or is something they’d like to have like Carver and Ophelia or Sampson and Nicole, or even is something they don’t feel like they have, like Clem’s insecurity about where he stands with his group of friends. A title is an essential aspect to a book. It can be just as important to hook the readers and the blurb on the back, the cover, and the opening lines. And, where S.E. Hinton’s book and mine share some similarities, as the titles suggest, they are very much a different read. "Handing the cup over, she gets the nastiest look from the customer, as their eight-year-old snickers at her cursing. She's oblivious to it, but it kind of pisses me off. Who the hell are they, bringing an eight-year-old here past midnight and buying their kid caffeine? Then they have the nerve to get all righteous?"- Society's Foundlings, Ellie Lieberman
Many have different opinions about cursing in books, especially in children's books, Middle Grades, or YA. Certain books, such as Bridge to Terabithia, have been banned or challenged for it. Other books, such as the also banned, The Catcher in the Ryee, discuss one of the issues many people feel about cursing, seen whenJ.D. Salinger draws a connection between the graffiti that reads 'Fuck You' with a loss of innocence. In Society's Foundlings, there are about fifteen "fucks." I know this because after watching some interviews about The Perks of Being a Wallflower and learning that in order for a movie to be considered PG13, it could only say "fuck" about once, I got curious about my own work. While this fact about my book will turn away some readers, as an author, it was important, essential, and at time deliberate for the reader to understand the characters. For Carver, as seen in the quote at the beginning of this blog, cursing is the not the worst thing in the world to him. He chooses to be more concerned with the physical health for a child, for example, rather than his co-workers use of expletives in front of the child. That can be taken a step further. He is more concerned with the parent's judgement of his co-worker and the hypocrisy of said judgement. It can be said this is hypocritical from a character who takes his sixteen-year-old friend for burgers and shakes at midnight (arguably for both of their well-being, though) and also says later he'd prefer his caffeine "in an IV drip. Stat." Or, the fact that the co-workers use of cursing was during a conversation about how Carver was judging his cousin's friend. This situation in and of itself can show how we, as people, don't always recognize a negative trait in ourselves as easily or readily as we do with someone else. It can also show the difference between Carver and his co-worker, Ophelia Cortes, especially in their reactions. However, hypocrisy aside, Carver is also a character who has messed up a lot when he was in high school and who has seen some of the darker sides of humanity. Whether it is directly stated, implied, or inferred, Carver hasn't had the nicest or easiest life. His choices in the past are part of this, but so are the choices of others who had been around him ( i.e. why doesn't he mention a parental figure?). A big part of him, especially during the story, is choice and that extends to his choice in vocabulary, as well as his choice of what he concerns himself with. That being said, he also reads extensively. His choice in books also shows more a freedom with vocabulary. As the author, I have my own opinions and thoughts about this that may differ from yours, as the reader. Please keep in mind, your interpretations are not wrong. These are just mine. To me, Carver's search for that "more," for that freedom, to not feel the constraint or burden of financial struggles and past mistakes would extend to his philosophy about vocabulary and how he speaks. To me, it seems like he's the type of character who would not necessarily view a word like "fuck" as an offensive word. I don't think curses hold the same power for him. This is also where he differs from say, Clem or Math. The only time Math says "fuck," is at the climax of the story, when emotions are running high, and conflict is running higher. To someone like Math, the word holds a certain power, especially for expression. It can also be argued that what Sampson, Math's brother and Carver's cousin, has said and what both Sampson and Carver have done is more offensive than Math's use of the word "fuck." Here's where I throw my two cents in as an author. There are certain words that we have that are offensive. By this, I don't mean curses like the ones we are discussing. Should they be in literature? There is still that debate about books like The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. This book was written a very long time ago. That one word was prevalent and it remains just as offensive now as it did then. It can be argued that a book like this can be used to start the conversation about the power of words and the importance of learning from the past. Especially with how easily and how often it appears in the book. That illustrates another problem, though, if the conversation is not had. I've also heard arguments that you shouldn't tell an author what they can and cannot write, or change a classic. I think the issue is bigger than this, though. Between the way people are reacting about taking down Confederate statues, the fear caused by the election and other current events, and even someone like Bill Mahr cracking a joke, whether he meant to or not (which illustrates it's own problem with our society and use of certain words), these conversations need to be had. There needs to be a dialogue. Should that dialogue occur with a book like Huckleberry Finn? It's written by a white man with a character who is a white boy. There are probably better examples out there, but the fact this is the first book that comes to mind speaks a lot about the society around me and myself, one of the things I'm trying to work on personally. Also, I am a white author. I will never know what it's like to have a word like that, with so much history and connotation tied to it, directed at me. I know this word has power. I know this conversation needs to take place. It's not me who should be talking, though. It's me, as someone who is white, who needs to be listening. Conversation makes it sound like I have the right to speak on a subject that I have never lived through. I can't say the word, nor do I think I ever could. Ice-Cube was on Bill Mahr, and he said the word was their's now. And it should be. It's time white America starts to listen. I'd like to think, even Carver, would find there are more offensive actions and words out there than "fuck." As a YA author, I don't think we do any of our readers justice if we try to shield them from important conversations. I also don't think it is very fair to them to be more concerned with whether or not the book they read has curse words than what they're hearing on the news and seeing in the society around them today. Earnest Hemingway said “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” When I write, I truly write. There’s not only an investment in the characters and storylines. It is pouring heart and soul. It is knocking down the barriers of the everyday, exposing and vulnerable and naked on a blank page. It is said that if there is no tears in the writer there will be no tears in the reader. From what I know of books like Chip Davis’s Angel’s Song in The Playlist Anthology and Barbara Lieberman’s To Miss The Stars (which comes packaged with tissues, by the way), there is truth in that saying. Each week I revisit my manuscripts to participate in the local twitter event, 1lineWed, where writers share lines from their work based on a weekly theme. This week’s theme is Chaos and in Society's Foundlings, which was published two years ago, I came across this one line, “There’s a comfort in what you’re accustomed to. Chaos becomes its own sort of peace.” It amazed me how a simple line could still stir those same feelings in me as when I first picked up the pencil to write them. 2015 was a chaotic year, if not for external reasons, then for internal. In the years following the outward became its own sort of chaos. Now, I am in a much better place in both ways. We have terms we use in my family for PTSD moments. Those little triggers that send you back to moments your body can’t seem to forget no matter how much your mind wants to. Those responses so ingrained in the brain, your breath catches, your heart seizes, the pain from that moment mere months or years ago is just as fresh and present now as it was then. But, revisiting this honest and sometimes brutal text that I created is different. It’s as bittersweet as the story itself. I’m better. My world is better. The characters will forever remain frozen in that moment, in those conflicts, though. I have moved on and in a way, while there is hope on that final page, it is a final page. It is a scar, that indelible reminder, but it’s the scars that let the light shine through. A couple days ago was National Popcorn Day. So, of course, what came to mind for some of my readers as well as myself was Society's Foundlings, since the main item of food consumed within the 90 pages is overly buttered, stale, movie theater popcorn. While this is but a simple detail, it got me thinking about what that popcorn represented to each of the characters. The popcorn is a very minor detail. It is used to illustrate the lack of food, finances, and resources offered to the character. Yet, despite this simple view of food, it has a larger meaning to Sampson, Carver, and Math in particular, Sampson sees it as a divide between himself and others, such as Nicole Brennerman. He wonders how she could possibly understand comparing past cheap food that created a regular diet (plain spaghetti and minute rice) to the assumption of richer, more expensive foods she grew up eating (lobster). This is not only used as a dividing line, but to illustrate and represent the feeling of being an outsider. For Carver, it remains solely a representation of things he cannot have. Lack of resources, lack of security, lack of the 'more' he's constantly searching for. It remains a barrier in not only what he can provide for himself, but what he can provide for the people he cares about, seen when he questions what else the three other main characters had to eat that day. Math views popcorn as the complete opposite. For him, it is belonging and security. He includes it in his descriptions of Sampson and Carver's place, which in and of itself is a sanctuary. It is a sure and constant thing for him in a world that is slowly falling apart around him. Each of these representations become even deeper when the reader recognizes nobody else would necessarily think of or even know they eat mostly popcorn. It illustrates an internal struggle, and how they view themselves and their situations. Home and belonging is a common theme in my books. Whether it's the dragon from A Dragon's Treasure in A Horde of Dragons. or it's Math from Society's Foundlings wondering why what feels like home can't be where he rests his head at night.
For the dragon, belonging is a chain around his neck until a friend tells him, "There's a difference between being someone's treasure and being treasured by someone." For Math, home transforms from a brick-stepped, light-flickering sanctuary where no one can trespass to a hand that catches you when you fall. Home, what it is and how we define it, changes as we do. It doesn't always look the same, but there are common elements. As Billy Joel sings, "Home is just another word for you." One constant is the people. Those you've known all your life who become more than just family, and communities, no matter how big or small, who become more than just friends. These Shadows, as I like to call them, like Shadow from The Treasure of Ravenwood. Those bosom friends and kindred spirits as Anne of Green Gables called it. For Jenna from Solving for X it was the memories within the place or the person. The plaid blanket where she and Erik watched fireworks. It was the line of photos. For Erik, it was the smell of salt water and the old basketball courts. Sometimes home is in the traditions. Mom's coffee in the mornings. Jenna's painting. Decorating for the holidays or Friday night dinners with the grandparents. And, home can be a place. Where love abounds and there lies a type of safety one can only find in those four walls. Home for me is a lot of things. It is paint and pencils, notebooks and sketchpads. It is an orange, furry hug. It is a steaming cup of tea. It is laughter and kisses goodnight by a porch light and under stars. It is a hand on my knee, fingers that tickle mercilessly, and his hat that I wear like a crown. It is smiles and shared dreams and a hand to hold and a hug I've known since birth. It is my mom. It is a Christmas tree decorated the day after the turkey is cooked. It's dancing and singing Ten Minutes Ago from Roger and Hammerstein's Cinderella. It's Chinese Food for Christmas. It's stories I now know by heart. It's a neighbor who I count as family. A blessing in the form of fabulousness. Another Pheonix- I am so fortunate to be surrounded by so many! My Fairy Godmother! Filled with as much wisdom as magic. Who could touch dust and turn it to gold. Whose sparkle always makes the day brighter. It is a goddamn masterpiece. A modge podge worth of 21 years. Home is where I rest my head at night. I think Sally Fingerette said it best, "Home is where the heart is. No matter how the heart lives. In your heart where love is, that's where you've got to make yourself a home." What do you consider home? Originally posted on Goodreads!
Using the questions asked in Inside the Actor's Studio, I will be interviewing characters from my books. I'm starting with Carver from Society's Foundlings. 1. What is your favorite word? Redemption. 2. What is your least favorite word? Can’t. I don’t like limitations. 3. What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally? A well written book and any conversation about books in general. 4. What turns you off? Little princess-bitches in platform five-inch heels who shrills in a voice equivalent to nails on a chalkboard and a dying cat and whose favorite book is about sparkly vampires, whose favorite show is a tie between some soap and a reality, and who owns more shoes than books. My friend, Ophelia, tells me I’m a stuck up bastard and a snob. It’s mostly the righteous attitude, like a parent who gets pissed off that I’m cursing when they’re at a sleazy fast food joint at midnight and buying their kid caffeine. If a few curse words is the worst thing a kid experiences, than I’d call it good. 5. What is your favorite curse word? Pardon the French, but Fuck. 6. What sound or noise do you love? A page being turned. 7. What sound or noise do you hate? Gunshots. Police sirens. 8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt? Travel writer. As Jack Kerouac said, “The road is life.” Anything to find whatever “more” I can.To go places and meet people, with “nothing behind me, everything ahead of me, as is ever on the road.” 9. What profession would you not like to do? Any of the jobs I am currently doing. Laundromat, stocking shelves, cashier, etc. 10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates? I’m surprised to see you here. |
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Ellie Lieberman |