Wishful Thinking: The U2 Edition

I'm going to see The Joshua Tree tour. Twice. Which I have never done before, for any band, ever. Anybody know anybody at MetLife/Meadowlands for 6/28, or Lucas Oil Stadium for 9/10, who might be able to help arrange the following scenario? Wishful thinking. Yes.




(Originally published June 22, 2015)

Tomorrow is a radio station promotion, U-Tuesday, in which WTTS FM 92.3 will give away tickets to see U2 in Chicago. You have to be the second caller at specified times throughout the day to win two tickets. If I win*, I'll take my husband; the show is the day before our anniversary. Best wife ever!

Maybe you didn't know that my debut novel, TRIP THROUGH YOUR WIRES, takes its title from a U2 song on The Joshua Tree album. Maybe you didn't know that I saw U2 in Chicago in 1992, with the Pixies as opening act, at the Rosemont Horizon. Maybe you didn't know that I'm the Queen of Wishful Thinking.

But what IS certain is an imaginary scenario I've played out in my head. Tomorrow, at one of the specified times, I will call the radio station. I will not be the second caller, not on the first couple tries. Wishful Thinking is best rewarded after obstacles, so let's build the drama and say it takes until the last hour of the day, the last giveaway, for me to reach one of the DJs as the second caller. On the line: Paul Mendenhall or Laura Duncan or Brad Holtz. I have been listening to these three for ages! It's like they know me! Except they don't know me. But this is Wishful Thinking, in which case we'd probably chat for a moment about our impeccable taste in music.

In Chicago, at the United Center, a friend's brother's cousin's co-worker will connect us to the facility manager, who leads us backstage for a casual conversation with the band. I give them a copy of my novel. We chat briefly, because world leaders are also backstage wanting to discuss politics with Bono.

"You've written a book about us?" Bono asks.

"No, no, I've just always loved the song 'Trip Through Your Wires', and your music has meant so much to me over the years," I say, "as you can see from one of my early-90s mix tapes."

Bono tosses the mix to his assistant, who pops it into a cassette Walkman he keeps handy for this purpose. The assistant immediately begins rocking out.

"Once you read the novel, the connections to the title will make sense," I tell him. "It's more metaphoric than literal."

"Right on," he says. "Good thing titles aren't copyrighted, love."

"Ha ha, yes," my husband says. "This work is in no way affiliated with or sponsored by U2. It is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. The last thing we want is U2's legal team on our A-S-S."

The Edge looks over. "We can spell, mate."

We both shrug. "We have small children."

Everyone laughs, sitcom-style, but with awareness/appreciation/mockery of that style.

"Gorgeous cover," the band murmurs as One.

I tell them about the beautiful books my publisher, Engine Books, makes. We're both based in Indianapolis.  

"And you came all this way to see us on a work night?" Larry Mullen Jr. asks. "Boy, you must be tired. Have a sandwich."

Adam Clayton passes a tray of artisanal breads and cheeses. We eat. Bono tucks the book in his bag to read later on the band's private jet. We will take pictures together in which my excitement causes me to look stiffly terrified, and none of the pictures will be usable for Facebook and Twitter posting, unless I want to go viral as Fan Terrified by U2 When She Was Actually Thrilled to Meet Them and Give Her Novel as a Gift.


Wishful Thinking turns complicated quickly, no? 

 My dialing finger is ready. It also helps to chant: Second caller second caller second caller. Not that I'm superstitious, or thinking magically. That would just be silly.


*Update: I didn't win. Still love all involved & caught beautiful vicarious snippets of yesterday's Chicago show through social media.

Vicariously yours,
SL

My Writing Process blog tour

Thanks so much to the wonderful Sarah Yaw, who asked me to be part of the My Writing Process blog tour. Her debut novel, YOU ARE FREE TO GO, will be released by Engine Books* in September. Sarah lives in Central New York, where I lived for a decade. Over email, we discovered that we have a CNY friend in common. His name is Greg. If you're reading this, Greg, Hello!  
It's great to have an excuse to think about the writing process. I struggle with mine often, and I appreciate reading about how others go about their own work. And reflecting on process, as I so often tell my students, can be a means of understanding the work in a new way. Time to practice what I preach. 

Up next week are Andrew Scott and Barbara Shoup (see below for their bios). If you're a participant in this blog tour, I'm happy to link to your post here or in the comments. 

Away we go...

1) What are you working on? 

I'm in a waiting period on two projects: the release of my first novel, TRIP THROUGH YOUR WIRES, by Engine Books in Feb. 2015, and I've been querying agents for my YA novel, LAST SEASON. So in the interim, I've been revisiting short stories, working on revising them to put together as a collection. I've been writing very short pieces of fiction and some poetry, practicing compactness. (And, to be honest, the form appeals because I'm working within short stretches of time.) My back-burner project is a new novel; I've completed a first draft and plan to work on the second draft in the fall. I'm probably another full draft away from talking much about it. (See Question 4.)  

2) How does your work differ from others of its genre? 

It took me awhile to learn that my writing shouldn't necessarily fit into a category -- literary, commercial, mystery, or fill-in-the-blank. If it does, fine. But when I try to write toward a particular genre, then I'm not being true to the story and where it leads me. TRIP THROUGH YOUR WIRES could be thought of as literary, commercial, a mystery. But it's not truly a mystery novel -- only a mystery in that we can think that we know a person, when in fact they are a mystery to us. Often, we are a mystery to ourselves. Those are the kinds of books I like and strive to write: ones that may defy conventions, even as they pay close attention to language and character.     

3) Why do you write what you do? 

I write about what sticks in my mind and doesn't easily fade. The things I wonder about and want to know more about. Big questions or little ones that I don't have answers to -- I write toward those answers, even if I never find them. Sometimes I write because an image lurks in my consciousness and my subconsciousness needs to process it. I've always been fascinated by reading stories, and as I've gotten older, I've become fascinated about why we tell stories in the first place. It's such a common act of humanity, the kind of thing that truly binds us together. The need to understand our own experiences by describing what those experiences are like. And only we can tell others what the view is like through our particular windshield, as it were. I want to share my view. And when I read I want to look through other windshields.  

4) How does your writing process work?

Slow-fast-slow, alone-collaborate-alone. I start in semi-isolation, feeling out a story by taking notes, jotting ideas, writing lines and sketches and scenes. Then I write in big bursts and get the thing down relatively quickly. Then I revise, slowly, sometimes over the course of years. I tend not to talk about what I'm working on until I have a pretty solid draft finished. Keeping the story's energy close to me in the initial drafts has been useful, though I always want and need feedback later. But early on, letting the story sink in and grow and become whatever it's supposed to be is a necessary part of my process. I think it's possible to get too much input too soon, and instead of listening to the story, you're listening to feedback that could potentially derail it. I'm talking early-early. Once I'm a couple drafts in, I find it almost impossible to revise without feedback from trusted readers. Other people can see your work objectively, whereas you cannot. I say you, but I mean I. And you. We two.  

Coming up next week, these wonderful Indianapolis-based writers:  

Andrew Scott is the author of Naked Summer, a story collection, and the editor of 24 Bar Blues: Two Dozen Tales of Bars, Booze, and the Blues. His fiction and nonfiction have appeared in Esquire, Ninth Letter, The Cincinnati Review, Mid-American Review, Glimmer Train Stories, The Writer’s Chronicle, and other outlets. He is an editor at Engine Books and Lacewing Books.

Barbara Shoup is the author seven novels, including four for young adults, and the co-author of Novel Ideas: Contemporary Authors Share the Creative Process and Story Matters. She is the Executive Director of the Indiana Writers Center. A new YA novel, Looking for Jack Kerouac, is forthcoming from Lacewing Books in August, 2014.

*Engine Books seeks support for its Big Dream. Love literature? Want to see more great books in the world? Check it out and consider donating.  

Time measured by cuts

I last posted here around the time I last got my hair cut. I remember because it was the end of the semester, and I kept brushing too-long bangs out of my eyes; I even used that action while teaching my creative writing class, as an example of characterization by gesture (a tic, really, that probably rankled some. It rankled me. I like that word, rankled, and will use it again now: rankled.)

Time for posting, and haircuts. I've been working on final revisions of my novel, TRIP THROUGH YOUR WIRES, which will be out from Engine Books in February 2015. A year from now. Getting up early before the rest of the house to get in some writing time. (cue baby waking, crying. didn't know he had crib wifi & was reading this. hang on.)

It is now almost one week later. Seriously. One week. What have I done in that time?

::Took kids to library. Chased one child up a ramp. Everyone had low blood sugar, everyone screamed. We ate, we apologized. Engaged kids in Valentine-sticker-project that held their interest for two minutes; finished cards myself, cursing. Found out my 2 removed moles weren't cancerous. Taught classes, graded. Talked about Herman Koch's The Dinner for a faculty/staff book discussion group. Chilled out with my Valentine at home on a snowy night. Movies books beer. Had a birthday. Ate too many fried cheese curds. Had the family over. Could not find a candle for my birthday cupcake so I lit a kebab skewer. The children were delighted that it still glowed after blowing it out. I forgot to make a wish because I was focused on making sure children were not burned by kebab skewer. No, that WAS my wish: do not burn children with improvised birthday kebab skewer candle. Worked on interview questions for a writer I'm excited to learn more about. Watched Downton Abbey, and for the first time we're current. Laundry. Grocery. Skied myself sleepy.::

Some other things. Etc. and etc.

Still revising the novel; getting closer to done. Still need a haircut. Maybe I'll keep growing it until I turn in the final revision. The bookish version of a playoff beard.

Caption: REMEMBER ME? (Quiet internal voice: Yes. Though I wish I had never Googled "magnetic beard toy man.")

I have been growing my hair longer for some time now. The key, I've finally figured out, is not to cut it. (Slow learner.) Not so with revision. Sometimes you need to cut and cut, for years. (Slow learner.)

Ah but now it is pumpkin time, so that I may rise early enough to get some writing done before the kids are up. And the weeks just kind of blend into each other. The other day, as I was picking crushed Life cereal out of the dining room rug, I kept telling myself, This is not a metaphor. This is not a metaphor. (Lie. I thought to myself, "crushed Life cereal," now that's pretty funny. You should use that. And that's the whole troof, as some of us around here might say. Peas and fanks.)

Uncovering...the cover!

Forthcoming from Engine Books, early 2015.

Forthcoming

What a great word.

Especially when in reference to a book. Mine, that is. I am falling-down thrilled that Engine Books will publish my debut novel, TRIP THROUGH YOUR WIRES, with a launch date tentatively scheduled for February 2015.

This is the novel-formerly-known-as. Read my Next Big Thing post if you want to know more. But I'm training myself on the new title, so it's Voldemort City from here on out.

Did I skywrite the news, or bark a cheer into a bullhorn from the roof of my single-story dwelling? I did not. But those were things that crossed my mind as options, when I imagined what would happen upon the novel's acceptance. I think I'm still kind of processing that this is actually happening. So skywriting/bullhorns aren't out of the question, but they'll most likely occur later. Or my tweets/Facebook status updates will have served as their equivalents.

(I just tried to copy/paste a bit of blog code, and the whole True/False section of the Humanities literature exam I was writing earlier filled the screen. File under: moments you are glad didn't happen in class.)

Forthcoming. A book. My book.