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

When Your Bookstore Purchases Potentially Cancel Out Your Sales

My novel, Trip Through Your Wires, launched in March 2015, and since then I've learned that touring a book takes stamina. Touring with kids takes double that energy. Still, it was a wonderful experience for my husband and me to introduce the boys to new places and bookstores across various states. And when I traveled alone, I felt compelled to bring a little something back. 

So, a brief photo essay: Some favorite souvenirs from book tour, or: Things I Bought on the Road While Selling My Own Thing. #breakingeven  #badatmath  #buymorebooks

Souvenirs modeled by my children, the recipients of quite a few of these purchases. 

Handmade knitted Ninja Turtle hats/masks from one of the Missoula, Montana farmers markets; I counted three. This awesome vendor had the boys' favorites - Donatello, Raphael - in stock. Above the piano is a picture I took with my phone on the last day of the Montana Book Festival. I was shooting between the holes in a fence on a pedestrian bridge. 

We brought the kids to my reading at Talking Leaves Books in Buffalo, N.Y., my husband's hometown. They picked out these superhero gems -- perhaps you are noticing a trend about the interests of three and five year olds?

Browsing Ben McNally Books in Toronto, The Bus Ride by Marianne Dubuc caught my eye. I also picked up All My Puny Sorrows by Miriam Toews for myself, on the recommendation of Ben himself. (Heartbreaking while being hilarious, and worth the read.)

 

A puzzle of favorite book Steam Train Dream Train. Sold! At City Lit Books in Chicago.

Miraculously, I bought this in June and saved it until Christmas. Also possible: I forgot I bought it and rediscovered it at an opportune time. 

 A bit of a desperation gift at the AWP Conference in Minneapolis: a pair of pens purchased at the hotel gift shop, along with $11 traveler's eye drops. But a popular and useful item nonetheless.

 

Gotta love a freebie DOGS beer cozie from Buzzfeed Books' Isaac Fitzgerald (with me, left), at the AWP Bookfair. Modeled by husband, right, featuring Sun King Wee Mac, and some bagels atop the fridge. I think I've just found the title for my memoir of middle age: Still Life with Beer, Bagels. Just playin'. Am about to go for walk.

Speaking of free. The best part of this whole book tour for Trip Through Your Wires was connecting with readers, reconnecting with old friends, and getting to share it all with my awesome and supportive family. 

Barnes & Noble Cleveland

Talking Leaves Books, Buffalo

 Thank you, one and all. Peace, love, and appreciation to you in 2016. 

September to remember

Labor Day seems so long ago, and it was not quite a month back that I traveled to Bloomington, IN for a reading of TRIP THROUGH YOUR WIRES at Boxcar Books. Happily, I was joined by IU creative writing professor Elizabeth Eslami (author of HIBERNATE and BONE WORSHOP).

My cousin and his wife had me to dinner, along with two of my dear high school friends who live in town. Laughing, eating, and telling stories with my friends and family made me much less nervous to read. I pretty much always get nervous before I read.

Hard to say what is happening with my forearm muscle in this photo, but I cannot take my eyes off of it. That particular muscle is STRONG. I have no idea why. Maybe from picking up children?

Here is Liz, reading an incredible short story from her prize-winning collection HIBERNATE:

Later in the month, I had the good fortune to travel to Missoula for The Montana Book Festival. It was a jam-packed weekend of readings, panels, and social events.

I just made it to my Friday afternoon panel with suitcase in tow (possible title for something: Things to Do in Denver When You're Delayed),  and had a great session with Montana mystery writers Leslie Budewitz and Christine Carbo. Our panel was titled, "The Writer, the Mirror, the Map: Mystery Writers Reflect on Identity, Murder and Place."

We had a great crowd & great questions during the Q&A, and the author reception after gave us a chance to chat with festival-goers. A very nice audience member with terrific orange glasses stopped me on the street later to invite me for a drink with her crew; she had some Indy ties and we chatted a bit about Jim Jones. Regretfully, I declined, as I was headed to the next event of the evening.

Sarah Hepola (BLACKOUT: REMEMBERING THE THINGS I DRANK TO FORGET) and Kate Bolick (SPINSTER: MAKING A LIFE OF ONE'S OWN) in conversation was a definite highlight for me. These two forty-something women discussed what they called the "bonus decade" of leisure time - remaining unmarried, without children - while figuring their lives out. Their candor inspired me, and they clearly connected over their subject matter, varied though it was.

Here is the back of my head, bottom right, with the featured authors, mid-conversation:

(This photo appeared on the Montana Book Festival's Facebook page. Festival photos were taken by Claire Kelly Fox and Anna Maria Lopez.)

Other highlights: Talking with booklovers and booksellers. Charles D'Ambrosio's reading. A panel on genre/literary fiction with J. Robert Lennon, Ben Parzybok, Shya Scanlon, and Sharma Shields.

I told Lennon how I'd given his book, MAILMAN, to my mailman, and how he'd enjoyed it. Later that evening, Lennon and I chatted about the story he read during his session, and high-fived in the Missoula VFW.

And here is my book, enjoying the beautiful weather, the "M" tiny on the hill in the background...

 ...which I later hiked to on Sunday morning. Pictures or it didn't happen:

 Subtitle for September: Gonna Make You Sweat. 

Will you think I'm a total freakazoid if I mention that I noticed someone at the festival bookfair picking up and buying my book, and I surreptitiously took a picture?

 

(I also have a close-up version. But I'm not THAT much of a freakazoid to post it here. Jeez.)

At the closing beer & music event, someone asked me my connection to the festival. I briefly mentioned TRIP THROUGH YOUR WIRES, which he immediately recognized. "My wife bought it," he said. "I think you met her. Orange glasses? She'll be here in a minute."

So I did get that drink with the kind woman and her husband after all. And after? On a whim, I took a pedestrian bridge across the railroad, and happened upon this lucky shot:

My last event of the month was this past Monday at Purdue University, where I received my MFA in fiction writing. The MFA program brought me and my fellow alum, James Tadd Adcox, to campus for a reading. It was an incredible experience.

Super grateful that program director Brian Leung brought us to campus; coordinator Samantha Atkins anticipated our every planning need. Great conversation at dinner beforehand, and a lovely party afterward at thrown by Roxane Gay.

My former professor, Sharon Solwitz, introduced us and showered us with love, and I was reminded of the power of her mentorship. "Are you writing?" she asks, as if inquiring about my health. In a way, she is. This is a woman lauded in Best American Short Stories with a new novel coming from Random House. "What are you working on?" she asks. "How are revisions? How's the family?"

All my Purdue professors gave me great teaching models to aspire to. They shared such excitement for me and Tadd about our first novels (Tadd's is DOES NOT LOVE), and thanked us over and over again for coming to speak to MFA students and do a reading. I wasn't surprised by their kindness or gratitude, but I do have to say, emphatically, seriously, often: No, thank YOU.

That goes for everyone I had the chance to meet and reconnect with this September. When I was scheduling, three events in four weeks didn't seem like a lot. I had no idea how full -- how fulfilling -- September would be. Thank you.


*Closing credits, cue Earth Wind & Fire*

 

Summer Reads: Trip Through Your Wires and The Girl on the Train

Some very kind readers of Trip Through Your Wires have compared the book to this summer's bestseller, The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins.

The last one isn't about TGOTT, but does make a train reference I like. What can I say? It's all Thomas and Chuggington up in my house. Trains are the best. Except when Brother knocks them all off the table, which totally just happened. Other Brother was very cross, to use the parlance of Thomas. 

Many thanks to those who have read and reviewed TTYW on Goodreads. I haven't read The Girl on the Train yet; I'm on the IMCPL hold list, which looks like this:

I am now up to number 288 of 477 on the list, because I am a vee eye pee. I am patient, is the real answer. Sometimes.

Library patrons and math whizzes alike will note that Trip Through Your Wires has a much shorter wait time. You could be No. 7 on the list if you place your hold today. Librarians are standing by:

It's thrilling to me to see my book listed -- with holds! -- in my library system. If your local library doesn't have it, you can request it, either in person or online, depending on the place. I would love to see my novel in more libraries, & to increase access to readers. Libraries are among my favorite places on earth. Today I got to be an Art Monster (see: Jenny Offill's Dept. of Speculation) and sat at a library table, researching and piling up books to read and movies to watch. Letting my curiosity guide me. Writing, and researching, and writing some more. Summer is restorative that way. 

Can't wait to read TGOTT, once my hold comes in. May your summer reads arrive speedily.

Missed Connections: Retail

It's getting late and the kids are going to be up early. My eyes are itchy from too much pollen and too much screen time today. A little while ago, searching for a dresser and a new double stroller on Craigslist, I fell down a rabbit hole of garage sales and missed connections. Let's call it a chipmunk hole.

A Chipmunk Died in Our Double Stroller and Now I Want to Set it on Fire.

— Sarah Layden (@calmoots) May 5, 2015

I wanted to start a missed connections for a shirt I was going to buy in March, but it was really too cold for such a shirt in Indiana in March, and I was traveling to cold-weather climes for TRIP THROUGH YOUR WIRES book events -- Toronto, Syracuse, Buffalo -- and the AWP conference in April, in Minneapolis, where it snowed. There was a two-story Target where one could take refuge, and one did. Also went to NYC, a whole other post, where it was warmer but not quite sleeveless tunic warm. It was sell-a-book-to-a-stranger-named-Scott-in-Central-Park warm, if that gives you an idea. So the shirt. I went back for it today. It had been on my mind. The weather's warming up. Not just a shirt but a tunic, and it screamed CUTE TOP. It was also $80, and I am many things, but I am not a person who will spend $80 on a cute top. Even if it is a tunic, with the word "romantic" in its description. I am not really a wearer of "romantic" garments, typically. But this tunic was different. I figured that by now it was on sale, but it was not locatable in the store. I hunted high and low. The saleswoman was busy spreading out five dresses on the counter - they were all the same dress, black and white, and she was really scrutinizing them - and the salesman was ordering Jimmy John's on the phone and giving out his credit card number so kind of scurrying to the back room to not be heard, and became flustered that I was blocking his way in front of the racks. I'd had Jimmy John's for lunch today, coincidentally. The Turkey Tom, always and forever.

Maybe I could find the top online, I decided. And I did. In a size 0. Look. I am not a size 0; I have never been a size 0, senator. This is not a point of pride or shame, merely a fact. Now, on the March hunt for a cute top, I found a more weather-appropriate alternative, and the saleslady talked me into a smaller size. She was quite insistent. "It looks supergood! You look superfabulous!" And I was swayed. And then this happened.

Cute top bought for readings has ripped in not one but four places. I AM BOOKISH INCREDIBLE HULK. Cannot be contained by poly/silk mix.

— Sarah Layden (@calmoots) April 19, 2015

So you might understand why I'd re-fixate on the tunic. The flowy, pretty, comfy item -- you were almost mine, had I not been so cheap, and so cold all the damn time. But now, warmer! And more events! (To Cleveland on Memorial Day, 1 p.m. at Chagrin Blvd. Barnes & Noble, and Chicago on June 10 at City Lit Books with James Tadd Adcox.) Of course the shirt was no longer available. That was March, This is Now. That's what retailers say when they're trying to be real tough, like S.E. Hinton characters. Clothes don't just wait two months until you're back from book touring and done with the semester grading and all the gardenhousefamily needs (not in that order, that's outside-in, not inside-out.) Which reminds me:



I've been listening to this song a lot lately, traveling. I'm reminded of the R.E.M. song Turn You Inside-Out - words only, not music. Thinking about how crazy the past year has been, with moving and book and the kids and a full-time job, finally, and home home home. And boy was this a welcome sight to come home to.

I have long known where any book of mine would go in a bookstore, in this case the Barnes & Noble in IUPUI's Campus Center. I have visited shelves and traveled to the Ls. Many times. Oh D.H. Lawrence. Oh John le Carré. You two have no idea, you really don't.

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.

The Next Big Thing

The Next Big Thing is a blog hop, a chance for writers all over the world to talk about what they're working on. When you’re tagged, you answer ten questions about your next book or story, link to the person who tagged you, then tag 3-5 other writers.

I was tagged by Barb Shoup, writer and advocate extraordinaire. I like to refer to her as my literary fairy godmother. (Read her Next Big Thing post here.) And while you're at it, read An American Tune, Barb's new novel from IU Press. Great stuff.

Check out a post here from Sarah White, an excellent writer and all-around person.

Now, the questions...

What is your working title of your book? Sleeping Woman

(NEW TITLE IN THE WORKS! 8/31/13)

Where did the idea come from for the book? When I started my MFA program at Purdue University, I knew I wanted to try to write a novel for my thesis, though I didn't know yet what I'd write about. In my second semester, I began a very short story told in second person, a "you" who becomes very sick while traveling abroad and is sent home. That short piece became a chapter, and ultimately the "you," once a man, turned into a she: Carey Halpern, the main character. Her physical ailments were revised out in later drafts, and it turned out that her real sickness was grief over her boyfriend's murder.

What genre does your book fall under? Literary fiction.

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition? When my sister read a draft a few years ago, she pictured James Franco as Ben. And look, if this is fantasy, I'll just go ahead and cast Jennifer Lawrence as Carey. Now that she's done blockbusters, perhaps she'll be looking for some indie work. For Mike: Matt Damon circa Good Will Hunting.

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book? Indianapolis native Carey Halpern buries her grief and guilt deep inside when her boyfriend is murdered in Mexico during her junior year abroad; seven years later, her new job among recent immigrants, a familiar stranger online, and a break in the murder case force her to confront the role Ben played in her life – and the role she played in his death.

Do you have a publisher for your book yet? Not yet. It has come close a few times at places both big and small, which by turns gives me dyspepsia and encourages me to keep trying.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript? About 2 1/2 years. I estimate that I've written about six or seven more drafts since then.

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre? Trick question. My work is completely original! But, if you like X, you will love Sleeping Woman! How's this: some books I found helpful while working on this novel were The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion, Don Quixote by Cervantes, Birds of America by Lorrie Moore, You Shall Know Our Velocity! by Dave Eggers, and Child of My Heart by Alice McDermott. Also, Susan Minot’s Evening, Tom McCarthy’s Remainder, Kate Atkinson’s Started Early, Took My Dog and Case Histories. For starters.

Who or what inspired you to write this book? The summer between my junior and senior years of high school, I studied in San Luis Potosí, Mexico. It was life-changing, as these experiences are, and I often found myself returning in memory to that trip, particularly a side visit we made to the medieval city of Guanajuato. When I moved back to Indiana for my MFA, I was amazed at how much the Hispanic population had grown in Indianapolis. My study abroad experience came back to me instantly, though my Spanish was a little rusty. The changes in Indy -- and the way memory changes as you look back -- became topics I was interested in exploring.

A few of us from the exchange program recently reunited, and I found myself caught again between the memory of things that happened, and how other people remembered the same events. Small things, small differences, but still important ones. I returned to Mexico in 2005 to research the novel; much had changed, but there were some things I was surprised to remember wholly. They're in the book.

Guanajuato, GTO, Mexico

What else about your book might pique the reader's interest? There's a lot that people might relate to. Things like coping with a senseless death. Understanding yourself and your place in the world. Navigating language and cultural barriers, both at home and abroad. The electronic miscommunications that occurred in the mid-1990s -- the early days of the Internet and e-mail. Tourism, photography, and being socially aware. Immigration and all its risks.

The issues of immigration, forged documents, and illegal drugs are woven into the novel. Last October, The Indianapolis Star reported a record marijuana bust of more than 5.25 tons in an Indianapolis warehouse. The drugs came from a Mexican cartel. Immigration continues to be a hot-button topic, both locally and nationally, as Latinos are the fastest-growing group in the United States. Indianapolis’s Latino population (based on the city’s West side, the setting in the novel) grew 70 percent from 2000-2005; that’s more than any other group. American tourism in Mexico has plummeted, largely due to fears of drug-related violence.

These are current problems, and there are also evergreen themes: loss, grief, regret, and what to do with love when one’s intended will not or cannot accept it.