I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas! I’ve shared lots of pictures on Facebook, so I’m not going to bomb my blog with our family Christmas images, but we are having a wonderful time in Denver with two of our three “kids” and their families, including our four granddaughters (which is why I didn’t do a blog post on Friday). We’ll head back to Memphis tomorrow where I’ll continue work on all four books in their various stages of editing, production, and marketing.
I’m excited to share this wonderful blurb written by my publisher, Joe Lee, for the front inside cover of my novel Cherry Bomb. It appeared on the Dogwood Press blog, Friday, December 23, 2016. Check out the other authors featured there, including my friend John Floyd who is a wizard with short stories. His latest book is Dreamland.
Thanks for this wonderful blurb, Joe! (This will be a hardback book with a dust jacket cover. We’re working on cover art now, so stay tuned!)
In the same way that a good bookseller can get you excited about reading a book (as our Mississippi booksellers do so well), good dust jacket copy does the same thing — how often have you read the flap cover and said, “Gosh, I’ve GOT to get this!” With that in mind, here’s the dust jacket copy for Susan Cushman’s debut novel, Cherry Bomb, which I can’t wait for us to roll out next October:
By the tender age of sixteen, Mary Catherine Henry has lived through enough horror to last a lifetime. Sexual abuse at the hands of her cult-leading father, abandonment by her drug-addicted mother (who nicknamed her Mare), and several spirit-crushing years with a dysfunctional foster family convince her that life on the streets will be easier, somehow, than what she’s always known.
What keeps Mare going is the budding artist inside her, and the sleepy Southern town of Macon, Georgia, doesn’t know what hit them when colorful graffiti “bombs” begin appearing on abandoned buildings—Mare even dares to decorate a Catholic church with a highly provocative message. The young runaway signs her work CHERRY BOMB, attracts the attention of the local media, and is soon caught—but not by police.
A photographer for Rolling Stone learns of Mare while on assignment, finds her, and befriends her. So does a reporter for The Macon News and, eventually, the priest of the parish whose walls Mare defaced so angrily. Their efforts help earn her a scholarship at prestigious Savannah College of Art & Design, where she studies under legendary Abstract Expressionist painter Elaine de Kooning. It’s a wonderful mentoring relationship … until Mare and Elaine discover they have much more in common than a love of art. And that bond, which forces both women to deal with pain and anger from their repressed pasts, threatens to tear them apart.
With a mix of remarkably visual characters and an intricate, compelling plot rich with intriguing religious imagery, Mississippi author Susan Cushman has penned a powerful debut novel that will stay with you long after you’ve turned the final page. You’ll never forget Mare and Elaine … and you’ll never look at religious icons—and street graffiti—the same way.
Wow! Doesn’t that make you want to read the book? And you can support Susan before then by picking up a copy of Tangles and Plaques (A Mother and Daughter Face Alzheimer’s), which will be released in several weeks by eLectio Publishing.
2016 has been an industrial year for me, as I finished querying presses and signed 4 book deals. And now here at the end of the year, those 4 books are in various stages of organization, editing, pre-publication, and marketing. As a writer, I feed my creative spirit on the works of other authors. Often I read more than one book at a time, usually a novel and a nonfiction book. I rarely read short stories (although there’s one excellent collection in this list) or mysteries, but I love poetry, memoir, literary novels, books about spirituality and art, books about courageous and interesting women, and some “self-help” books.
I read 38 books in 2016. Fifteen are by authors I know personally. I would love to meet the other 22 one day, although a couple of them are no longer living. Here they are in alphabetical order. If you click on the links, you can read my blog posts on any of them you are interested in.
A Charmed Life by Mary McCarthy
A Lowcountry Heart by Pat Conroy
A Summons to Memphis by Peter Taylor
All the Way to Memphis by Suzanne Hudson
Almost Famous Women by Megan Mayhew Bergman
American Happiness (poetry) by Jacqueline Allen Trimble
Circling the Sun by Paula McLain
Delta Rainbow: The Irrepressible Betty Bobo Pearson by Sally Palmer Thomason
Dimestore: A Writer’s Life by Lee Smith
Dispatches From Pluto by Richard Grant
Drifting Too Far From the Shore by Niles Reddick
Gift From the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh
God For Us: Rediscovering the Meaning of Lent and Easter Edited by Greg Pennoyer and Gregory Wolfe
Guests on Earth by Lee Smith
How Does That Make You Feel? True Confessions From Both Sides of the Therapy Couch edited by Sherry Amatenstein
Inside the Dementia Epidemic: A Daughter’s Memoir by Martha Stettinius
Journeying Through Grief by Kenneth C. Hauck
Lines Were Drawn: Remembering Court-Ordered Integration at a Mississippi High School edited by Teena F. Horn, Alan Huffman, and John Griffin Jones
Lisette’s List by Susan Vreeland
Little Wanderer (poetry) by Jennifer Horne
My Southern Journey by Rick Bragg
Not a Place on Any Map by Alexis Paige
Pray and Color by Sybil McBeth
Robert Walker, a novel by Corey Mesler
Still Life: A Memoir of Living Fully With Depression by Gillian Marchenko
The Confessions of X by Suzanne M. Wolfe (winner 2017 Christianity Today Book of the Year Award for Fiction)
The Courage to Grow Old by Barbara Cawthorne Crafton
The Feathered Bone by Julie Cantrell
The Gift of Years by Joan Chittister
The Headmaster’s Darlings by Katherine Clark
The Invention of Wings by Sue Monk Kidd
The Muralist by B. A. Shapiro
The Sanctum by Pamela Cable
Waffle House Rules by Joe Formichella
West With the Night by Beryl Markham
Why We Write About Ourselves edited by Mereditih Maran
What’s in the queue for 2017? (also in alphabetical order) Watch for reviews on my blog next year!
*Being Mortal by Atul Gawande
Garden in the East by Angela Carlson
The Dream Lover by Elizabeth Berg
The Fire This Time: A New Generation Speaks about Race edited by Jesmyn Ward
The Opposite of Everyone by Joshilyn Jackson
The Statue and the Fury by Jim Dees
*When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi
Happy reading, everyone! I’d love to hear what your favorite books from 2016 were!
This morning I was interviewed on Behind the Scenes with Richelle Putnam on Meridian, Mississippi’s 103.3 Supertalk Mississippi radio station about my upcoming book, Tangles and Plaques: A Mother and Daughter Face Alzheimer’s. You can listen to the 16-minute interview here.
When you click on the link, fast-forward to 5:15 minutes in to listen to the interview, which ends 21:35 minutes into the one-hour show.
Richelle and I met almost ten years ago at the first Mississippi Writers’ Guild Conference in Clinton, Mississippi, (August 2007) and we’ve been keeping up with each other Facebook. She’s not only a radio show host, she’s also a musician, songwriter, and author. I’m looking forward to being with her again in person some time this spring, when I’ll be in Meridian for another interview as well as a literary/musical event with Richelle.
My particular interest in Meridian stems from the fact that my mother was from Meridian, and I lived there for a couple of years when I was 3-5 years old (1954-56). And some of my favorite childhood memories are of summer vacations spent with my grandmother (my mother’s mother) who sewed all my clothes for the coming school year while I was with her each summer. For many of those summers my parents would come over (from Jackson, Mississippi, where we lived then) for a few days for Dad to play in the Northwood Country Club golf invitational tournament. As I got older my pre-teen and teenage memories include hanging out at the swimming pool with friends I made in Meridian—including Carol Pigford and Missy McWilliams—while Dad played in the tournament. And I loved following him around the course each year that he was in the final round of the championship flight.
I haven’t been back to Meridian since the last trip I made there with my mother about fifteen years ago. We visited the cemetery where my grandparents are buried, and old neighborhoods and homesteads. I look forward to returning in the spring for an event for Tangles and Plaques. Stay tuned for more information. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy the interview.
A few weeks ago I got a comment on my blog that said something like, “It’s great to see older people blogging.” Needless to say, I didn’t allow it to be published on my site. Instead I allowed myself to be slightly offended—why did this person think I am old? Does he know I’m only 65? Does he think 65 is old? Has he seen my picture and thinks I’m a curmudgeonly grandmother-type? Hmmph!
And then yesterday I read Barbara Cawthorne Crafton’s “Almost-Daily eMo” from The Geranium Farm. Although the piece was talking about an image of the Mother of God and Christ with angels, St. Francis was in the corner of the picture, and she focused on his appearance. From that she morphed into why she was having a new picture made of herself, and why we care what someone looks like—or why we want to know what someone looks like.
We really want to know what people look like. Radio announcers—you have a vision of them in your imagination, and it can be disconcerting meeting them in person. Some people only SOUND tall, dark and handsome.
Authors, too: we think we know who they are because we have read their words. We picture them in our minds, and when we see photographs of them, we’re slightly shocked. She sounds so sexy and gorgeous. How can she look like my grandmother?
One answer to this, of course, is that you may have seriously underestimated your grandmother. And the other is that the mind itself is beautiful, and far more potent in its beauty than anything the body can summon. Young people receive this news with minimal interest, but older folks are counting on it.
Yes, I want to be considered sexy and gorgeous, and I think that my grandmother (my mother’s mother) was beautiful, and my mother—who died at 88 this past May—was gorgeous, even as a great-grandmother. I paid good money for a professional photographer to capture my best look for my author photo (which I use as a profile photo on Facebook) and I carefully screen and crop any photos before posting them. I guess I’m pretty vain, but growing up as a woman in the South teaches us to always put our best face forward. (I love the title of Southern author Shellie Rushing Tomlinson’s book, Suck In Your Stomach and Put Some Color On!)
There’s nothing wrong with caring about our physical appearance, so long as we care more about what’s on the inside. And so long as we spend as much time and energy cultivating generative lives—reaching out to others and being active in our creative lives—as we spend on our physical bodies. I think this becomes more prominent in our thinking as we get older, which is one reason I decided to put together the anthology I edited, A Second Blooming: Becoming the Women We Are Meant to Be (coming from Mercer University Press in March, 2017).
Now that I’ve discovered Crafton’s Almost-Daily eMos, I’ve become a fan of her writing. I just ordered her book, The Courage to Grow Old (Moorehouse Publishing, 2014). As I consider what she might have to share, I glance over at the books on the turntable beside my “reading chair,” and I remember discovering—about this time two years ago—Nicholas Delbanco’s wonderful book, Lastingness: The Art of Old Age. And then I re-read my blog post about the book, “Tribal Elders and a Hopeful Genre,” and I’m delighted to see my progress since then! I was still plugging away on my novel (a six-year work in progress for which I now have a contract pending… more on that soon!) and I hadn’t even conceived of Tangles and Plaques or A Second Blooming, my two books coming out in January and March of 2017! I wrote about my sadness at not having achieved my goal of publishing a book by age 60… and now I’ll have two books by 65. Just barely, as I’ll turn 66 on March 8.
If it sounds like I’m rambling now, that’s because I am. What started as a post about physical appearance has morphed into an emotional outpouring from my “old” soul. So, if the reader who commented that he was glad to see older folks blogging is still reading my blog, please forgive me for not publishing your comment. Send me another comment, and I’ll try to be less defensive. Today this old blogger is feeling thankful to be doing what I love. Thanks for reading!
Four years ago this summer I decided to organize my blog posts into three categories: Mental Health Monday, Writing on Wednesday, and Faith/Family on Friday. Over 600 blog posts later—keeping for the most part within those parameters—I might be ready for a change. I had been blogging for five years (since 2007) without using those categories, but in 2012 something shifted in my small corner of the blogosphere. I think I was craving organization. And most days it’s helpful to have those writing prompts for the blog. But sometimes—like on any given Friday—I might not have something on my heart about faith or family. And not every Monday finds me “cryin’ all of the time.” Since I write—or read or research or think or do something related to writing—almost every day, I don’t really need Wednesdays as a category for writing.
As I write these words, I’m wondering what it might feel like to wake up on a Monday morning, for example, and think, “Hm. I don’t have to write about mental health today. I can write about anything!” Would that free up the muse, or break down the discipline I’ve been following for four years?
Of course it’s no small thing that one of the main topics I blogged about for Mental Health Mondays was my mother’s journey (and mine as her caregiver) with Alzheimer’s, and that journey ended with her death in May, so I know I’m feeling a huge gap, not only in my life, but in my writing world. (I penned sixty posts about Mom over the past nine years.)
So, I’m considering a change. But I want to know what you, my readers, think. Do you enjoy having these categories for the blog? Do you only read the blog on certain days, when you know I’m going to be writing within a category that interests you? Please leave a comment here, on Facebook, or email me at email@example.com and let me know your thoughts. If I quit using these categories, it won’t be a change I’ll make lightly (if it ain’t broke….).
Have a great weekend, and thanks, always, for reading!
Oxford Writes is a new organization in Oxford, Mississippi. Their “mission statement” which appears on their web site says:
We are a mentoring and development venture in Oxford, Mississippi, for aspiring or published writers to interact with others to share their works and ideas.
To that end, they held their first writers’ event this past Saturday. They offered the one-day workshop without charge to the first 60 people to register. By the time I heard about the event I could only get on the waiting list, but thankfully someone cancelled and I was able to participate.
I was enthused when I read this article in The Local Voice. The workshop did not disappoint. It was so well organized—from the beautiful venue to the complimentary food and terrific craft talks and break-out workshops. Kudos to Jeff Roberson, organizer, and everyone else who worked to make this such a success.
How great to meet Adam Ganucheau (journalist, social media and blogging coordinator, among other skills) and Wesley Bell (who writes grants for a non-profit and has a faith-based blog)—two smart young guys who led the Online Writing, Blogging and Social Media workshop. Although I’ve been blogging for almost nine years, I gained some valuable new insights from Adam and Wesley.
It was also fun to meet Jim Weatherly (famous for writing Midnight Train to Georgia and many others hits, and he also played football at Ole Miss) who talked about song writing. Although it’s different than writing books, there were several things he said that can apply to all writing. My favorite take-away from Jim:
I write for the listener—to elicit an emotion. Use fewer words, but important, emotional words.
I’ve known Neil White for about eight years and I’ve heard him gift craft talks on creative nonfiction many times, but I always learn something new. I think my main take-away from his talk on Saturday was about the importance of VOICE:
Voice is writing so that people know it’s you—and being authentic.
I can’t hear that often enough.
Julie Cantrell and I met about five years ago and our paths continue to cross. She was kind enough to read and critique my novel, Cherry Bomb, in its early stages, and she gave me valuable feedback. This was the second time I heard Julie give a craft talk, and her teaching ability continues to amaze me. I took five pages of notes, which I’m now going over and trying to apply her advice to my work. So here are a few of my favorite take-homes from Julie’s talk:
Be passionate—view your writing like a secret lover.
What’s your novel’s theme?—How do the characters’ actions change them?
Be a lifelong learner—give your readers something new.
Fine your true voice—your way back to your true self.
Bring your readers through stages of emotional and spiritual growth, just as you bring your characters through those stages.
I could go on and on sharing the details of the workshop, but instead I encourage aspiring and emerging writers to keep up with Oxford Writes and watch for future events and try to attend!
I’ll close with a hands-on writing exercise Julie had us do. We were asked to spend two minutes writing a list of ideas we might like to write a book about. And then she helped us narrow those ideas down. Finally she had us look at that idea or character and ask “the great what if.” Here’s how my idea—to write about a piece of art—began to take shape by asking that question:
WHAT IF… Jackson Pollack and his mistress, Ruth Kligman, have a love child who is put up for adoption and eventually discovers her heritage through finding her father’s final painting, “Red, Black, Silver,” which had been lost.
I actually wrote a first draft of the opening chapter of this novel two years ago, had it critiqued at a workshop and later by a writing group, but it hasn’t drawn me in yet. Maybe I’m not passionate enough about it. Julie shared this quote from Elizabeth Gilbert’s new book on writing, Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear, which I’m thinking about as I consider my next project:
Life should be fun. We should be playing.
Back in October I did a post, “Plaques and Tangles, the Book,” about my decision to publish a book, Tangles and Plaques, which contains essays drawn from fifty blog posts about long-distance caregiving for my mother, who has Alzheimer’s. (Someone in my writing group suggested I reverse the words in the title, and I like it better this way, too.)
Now I’ve begun the process of querying publishers for the project. I’ve decided to go with small presses, rather than seeking agent representation and hoping for publication with one of the big houses. In the past ten days, I’ve queried eight presses. I found the data base of presses in Poets & Writers. Fingers are crossed.
Meanwhile, I’ve decided to share the Introduction to this collection here. You never know who might be reading…. So here it is.
The New Epistolary
In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, epistolary novels—based on letters or journal entries by one or more characters—were all the rage. In today’s social media culture, blog posts have upstaged journal entries and letters. A collection of those posts could be called the new epistolary.
On November 24, 2007, I wrote my first blog post about my mother, Effie Johnson, and her journey with Alzheimer’s. Over the next eight years, I published more than fifty additional posts about Mom. With a little editing, those posts now appear as essays in this collection.
Why “Tangles and Plaques”?
The title comes from my blog post of August 13, 2012. Here’s an excerpt:
The brain has 100 billion nerve cells (neurons) that operate like tiny factories. Alzheimer’s disease prevents parts of a cell’s factory from running well. As the disease spreads, cells lose their ability to do their jobs and eventually die, causing irreversible changes in the brain.
With this loss of brain cells comes the loss of memory—the stories that make up the fabric of a person’s life—as well as the inability to perform everyday life chores.
Tangles and plaques tend to spread through the temporal lobe cortex and hippocampus as Alzheimer’s progresses.
Neurofibrillary tangles are twisted fibers of another protein called tau, which build up inside the cells.
Argyrophilic plaques are deposits of a protein fragment called beta-amyloid, which build up in the spaces between nerve cells.
By the time this collection of essays becomes a book, it’s possible Mom may be done with the tangles and plaques. I’m hoping that she will have joined my father—her spouse of 49 years—on the other side, because the quality of her life after seven years in a nursing home so far—being fed through a peg tube to her stomach since January of 2013—is certainly not what I desire for her.
My close friends and relatives know that loving Mom and caring for her has been complicated by her emotional and verbal abuse of me (and my brother) for most of my life. Those issues are addressed in several of the blog posts comprising this book. The silver lining in Mom’s disease is that the same tangles and plaques that have stolen most of her memory have also erased the dysfunctional part: she has forgotten how to criticize and abuse. In her altered state, she is much easier to love. To forgive.
I live in Memphis and Mom is 200 miles away in Jackson, Mississippi. During these years as I have blogged about my long-distance caregiving, I have received many positive comments from readers, some of whom are also in the position of caring for a parent with Alzheimer’s. It was an easy decision to gather these stories into a book so that I could share them with more readers. I’ve done only light editing, not wanting to lose the immediacy and voice of the original blog posts, which were written within a day or two after each visit with my mother.
I have tried to blend humor (“The Glasses,” “I Can’t Find My Panties,”) with pathos (“Disappearing Stories,” “End of Life Issues”); hope with despair, in these essays. Alzheimer’s is a universal issue, especially for those of us in the generation tagged the “Baby Boomers.”
According to the Alzheimer’s Association, the disease is “the only cause of death among the top ten in America that cannot be prevented, cured, or slowed.” It is the sixth leading cause of death in the United States. One in three seniors dies with Alzheimer’s or another form of dementia, and more than fifteen million people provide care to people with dementia.
Mom is second generation Alzheimer’s. Her mother died with the disease at age 86—in the same nursing home where my mother now lives. Of course I watch my mother’s decline with fear and trembling. I often see myself in her place, and all I can do is pray for God’s mercy, and for a breakthrough in the research being done to try to stop this modern-day plague. It is my hope that my mother’s journey—and mine—will resonate with readers who share these struggles. I think you will find that the tangles and plaques aren’t only in our brains, but often in our relationships.
The January/February 2016 issue of Poets & Writers Magazine has a terrific article by Tom Spanbauer, author of five novels. Spanbauer teaches “Dangerous Writing” in his home in Portland, Oregon. What is it?
To write dangerous is to go to parts of ourselves that we know exist but try to ignore—parts that are sad, sore; parts that are silent, and heavy. Taboo. Things that won’t leave us alone.
That’s just a snippet at the beginning of a meaty article which was excerpted and adapted from a talk Spanbauer gave at the Pacific Northwest College of Art in Portland, Oregon, for Poets & Writers Live (www.pw.org/live )on October 17, 2015. There’s so much to glean from this article. I’ll only share a few things that stood out for me.
Spanbauer refers to the writer’s stories as his battlefield, and encourages us to go there in order to reflect the truly human side of ourselves, which is what makes writing truly engaging. As he says:
There is no one who is human who is not in battle. So since there’s a battle going on in inside all of us, why not acknowledge that this battle is what defines us as humans and start writing about how it feels to be in this perpetual battle? We can write to the larger question of human suffering by writing of the struggle that exists in our own hearts.
I can relate to this in my own writing, especially my first two attempts at writing memoir (both of which are on the shelf for now) and in my dozen or more published essays. Every (good) editor and (good) writing group I’ve worked with has pointed out to me over and over again the importance of being transparent about my feelings. Friends and family who know me well are probably thinking I don’t need help expressing my feelings, but it’s one thing to “over-share” and another thing entirely to write in such a way that your stories—even and maybe especially the fictional ones—reveal universal truths in a powerful way.
But Dangerous Writing is about much more than transparency and emotional honesty. It’s about voice—specifically what Spanbauer calls the “redemptive voice”—and about making our words sing. It’s also about scene-building, loving your objects, and creating places to slow down the pace so that the reader will pay closer attention to the details. It’s about things like “disclosure” and “conjurance.” Don’t those words make you want to read more? Check out this article if you’re a writer… or if you’re an attentive reader who wants to learn more about the craft you enjoy as a consumer.
I’m about to begin yet another round of edits on my novel, as soon as I receive the next overview from the editor. At the same time, I’ll be editing more essays for the anthology I’m putting together, as they are due to me by tomorrow! Spanbauer’s words will be in my head as I respond to the stories these incredible authors are sharing with me. I was emailing with one of them the other day and it was obvious that she is writing from her battlefield, and her words are powerful. She has followed Spanbauer’s advice without even knowing it:
By forcing the writer to look at an event that changed her life, she has to come to terms with something that is intimate…. So immediately the story has roots in the psyche of the writer. By going to her own heart and her own memories and her own pain, the writer knows the setting… the characters… the conflict….
I hope that each of the women who are writing essays for A Second Blooming are courageously storming through that battlefield these final days before the deadline. I know these women personally, and I chose them for this anthology not only because of their writing skills but also because I believe they have indeed made it through that battlefield into a second (or third or fourth) blooming. Can’t wait!
This is my final blog post for 2015. Just got an end-of-year report from Jetpack, which monitors traffic to my blog. Here’s an excerpt:
The concert hall at the Sydney Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 34,000 times in 2015. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 13 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.
In 2015 I published 154 new posts, which were read by people in 139 countries! Thanks to everyone who visits, reads, and leaves comments at Pen and Palette. To subscribe and receive email updates, scroll down to the bottom left of this post and leave your email address. Please keep reading in 2016, and Happy New Year!
I’ve been blogging since August of 2007. Here’s a link to my very first post from August 6, 2007:
That was really just a couple of paragraphs, so I did a second “first” post the same day:
“These Are My People,” which is mostly about the first Mississippi Writer’s Guild Conference in Clinton, Mississippi. That’s where I met Joshilyn Jackson, who encouraged me to start a blog. She’s got six best-sellers published so far. Here’s Joshilyn’s blog, “Faster Than Kudzu.” At the conference—where Joshilyn was the keynote speaker—she also did a workshop on marketing/media presence. She said it’s good to have a blog, and then once you get an agent, get a web site, and once you get a book deal, you might even hire someone to run your site. But she also warned us that for some people blogging saps their energy for their “real writing” while for others it serves as “warm-up writing” for their real writing. I’ve found both to be true in the eight years since I’ve been blogging. Some days I only spend 30 minutes or so on a quick post and then get to work on an essay or novel-in-progress. Other days I might spend a couple of hours on the post and my creative energy is gone for the day. But that’s actually okay with me, since I consider my blog posts “real writing.” If you’re thinking of starting a blog, or have one but you’re looking for a few pointers, here they are. Some of these I learned from Joshilyn or other sources, and some just from experience. Here goes.
1. Choose a blogging platform that works best for you. I used Blogger from August of 2007-June of 2012. Then I switched to WordPress, which I like better. It’s just more user-friendly, in my opinion. When I switched, I also set up a web site, so my blog is just one of several links on the site.
2. If you’re a writer, don’t just blog about writing. That’s going to be boring to lots of your readers. Especially if you’re blogging to build an audience for when your book(s) get published, be sure and write about a variety of subjects to keep their attention. If you’re a mother of young children, blog about raising kids. If you’re also an artist or musician or have other hobbies of interest, blog about those. If you go on interesting trips, blog about your travels. If you have a strong spiritual element to your life, or a strong focus on health, fitness or medicine, blog about that.
3. Post three times a week. Regularly. If you only post once or twice a week or just at random times, you might lose some readers. I’ve been posting on Monday, Wednesday and Friday (usually) for almost eight years and my readers know when to expect my posts.
4. Try to keep your posts short—1,000 words or less is best.
5. A couple of years ago I decided to organize my posts by themes: Mental Health Mondays, Writing on Wednesday, and Faith on Friday. I’ve pretty much stuck with these themes (which serve as general writing prompts) since setting them up, but sometimes I just don’t know what to write about to fit the theme of the day, so I vary it a little, like “Fashion on Friday” or something totally different. This is just a tool, and if I get tired of it I’ll change it.
6. Use photographs and artwork in your post. Be creative with the layout.
7. Use tags to draw more readers to your blog. For example, if a post contains the names of writers or musicians or celebrities, be sure and “tag” them so that someone doing a search for them online will end up at your blog. I usually have anywhere from 4-12 tags for each post.
8. To draw even more folks to my posts, I link to them on Facebook and Twitter each time I do a new one. Sometimes when I think of someone who might be interested in a post I’ve written—but I know that they aren’t active on Facebook or Twitter—I send them a quick email with a link to the post.
9. If you’re a writer, remember that your blog posts are published samples of your work. Editors, agents and publishers can see them, so don’t be sloppy with your posts. I usually write mine in Word, do a spell check, and then copy and paste it into my blog.
10. Most importantly, have a good time blogging. If it’s not fun, don’t spend 20 hours or more a month (as I do) on blogging. Three mornings a week I wake up thinking about what I’m going to write on my blog. Sometimes I write a post ahead of time and save it or set it to post on the correct day, but usually I’m writing on the day it’s posted.
I hope this was helpful. If you’re setting up a blog and have any questions, feel free to email me at firstname.lastname@example.org and I’ll be happy to share what I know. I’m not an expert—I make things up as I go—but I do have a few years experience blogging. There are also some more comprehensive sites where you can learn more about blogging, like these:
“Blogging 101: It’s Time to Start Telling Your Stories” (from the Huffington Post)
“Blogs 101” from the New York Times shares more links to helpful sources
If you start a blog or already have an active one already, please send me a link in a comment. I’d love to check it out!
And I’m so grateful to YOU for reading, and also to everyone who leaves comments here or on Facebook when I post the links there. Writing is a lonely business, and blogging is a wonderful way to network and interact with folks. Like you!
But she can also write. I’m talking about my friend, Shari Smith, author of a wonderful collection of stories called I Am a Town (River’s Edge Media, Little Rock, AR, 2014). These colorful stories were birthed from the loin’s of Shari’s blog, “Gunpowder, Cowboy Boots and Mascara.” They tell the story of the loss of her house in a fire about four years ago, and the wonderful people of Claremont, North Carolina, who helped her salvage her life from the ashes. From the Prologue:
Jeff Bolick was manning a water hose. He likes to remind me how hard I fought the efforts of the rescue squad as they attempted to give me oxygen and wrap blankets around me. He likes to remind me that even in my darkest hour I can cuss a blue streak without batting an eye…. It’s quite a reputation when folks measure your mental health by how many swear words you can fling in a single sentence. I ought to be ashamed.
I met Shari just a few weeks before the fire. I was down in Fairhope, Alabama, for “Southern Writers Reading,” an event Shari helped publicize. I think we had a soul connection right away, and although I didn’t see her again until we became Facebook friends and started working on another project together—The Shoe Burnin’: Stories of Southern Soul—I did send money to help her after the fire. I couldn’t imagine what it was like to lose everything you own, just like that. But Shari helps me picture it:
It was made of flames that singed my soul, stripped me of the dead sure belief that all I had to do was work a little harder and be a little smarter to make anything I wanted to be true and real. I sat numb and broken while this town got busy. They thought they were tending to my things. The truth is, they were tending to my fractured heart.
Folks had been after Shari to publish these stories for quite some time. Prize-winning writers, songwriters, and musicians who once gathered on the deck of her hundred-year-old farm house. They all wanted the world to read about the Claremont Café and the boys at the Back Table. Ordinary people. War heroes. Artists. The daughter of a Tennessee daddy and a Midwestern mother “who never took to me,” Shari has made peace with her loss and used it to fuel her writing:
I found my fire. I reckon I needed one. I’m not even sorry for it if this is what I got; this town, these people, these writers, these music makers, these stories and the chance to write them, to do my best to honor who they are and what they have taught me, to cross the bridge, sometimes charred but never ablaze and give dignity to those who helped build it, and in doing so, built me, or at least, put me back together, to sing the praises, as long as it takes and as pretty as I can, of a community of millworkers and farmers and artists until everyone knows the song.
‘It’s in the candy dish, too.’
‘Another stupid trip to the beach, I reckon.’
Chris wouldn’t let me move the cabinet until we moved the antique clock, the one Joe wants to remain broken so it won’t chime. As Chris looked for a safe place to put the Regulator, Suzanne emerged from the bedroom …. As she picked up the candy dish, Chris, his arms full of a hundred-year-old clock, asked, ‘What’s in there, Suzanne?’
‘Your brother? In the candy dish?’
‘Yeah, the Mason jar, too, but that better suits him.’
On Saturday, some of Wilson’s friends are coming over to finish the wall of whiskey bottles cemented in his honor. Suzanne will empty the candy dish but not the Mason jar. She promised to take some of him back to Georgia where they were born. As she held up the ashes of her brother… Suzanne said, ‘He was just a little bitty thing. We’ve already thrown some of him out around the Whiskey Wall, but this is what’s left.’
And people ask me if I ever want to write fiction.
Whether you’d headed to the beach or the mountains for spring break or summer vacation, or just staying home, get a copy of I Am A Town and you’ll be instantly transported to a different—and wonderful—place.