On Submission

This post has been a long time coming. About 16 years long. There have been times when I thought I was ready to submit my middle-grade novel, HALF-TRUTHS. But now I KNOW it. 

IN THE BEGINNING

From the beginning, I imagined a story about a white girl and a light-skinned Black girl discovering that they were second cousins. That premise, which consistently elicits a "WOW!" response, has remained the same throughout my book journey.  

Having written dozens of articles and two nonfiction books, (Friendship Counseling, Teaching the Story: Fiction Writing in Grades 4-8)  I had confidence in my writing skills. But I knew nothing about writing fiction. It felt like jumping into deep water without knowing where I'd find the bottom. 

I wanted it to be a pre-civil rights story but Harold Underdown, my mentor at a Highlights Foundation workshop in 2009, informed me that was only the setting. For years I wrestled to answer the question he posed: What does your character want? 

EVERYONE HAS A STORY 

In the summer of 2007, I started thinking about my story and began interviewing "experts." My friend and mentor, Joyce Hostetter, encouraged me to research far and wide. What was happening in the world? In North Carolina? In Charlotte? She suggested that I find people who lived in the area and listen to their histories. Since I was just discovering my story, those initial interviews were broad. It's funny to reread them and see some of the questions I asked. 

Even though I often got off track and wanted to include every story I heard--I absorbed a time and place that was new to me. (In a future post I'll share some of the stories that I wanted to include but didn't.) 

I'm working on my 20+ page bibliography which includes 100 expert interviews. Some interview notes are less than a page. One of my experts is a man who graduated high school the same year my protagonist was in middle school. His notes are over 90 pages. Skimming through these interviews, I found details that made it into my story. I'd forgotten where and how I learned things such as what was served for lunch in the school cafeteria, the Black help's relationship with their employers, what it felt like to sit at the back of the bus, the used books and sports uniforms passed to the Black schools, the discussions about school integration, the peasant dresses worn to dances. You name it. It's one thing to read about these things in history books. It's another thing to have someone tell you how they felt as they experienced Jim Crow and/or chose not to become a debutante. 

Dorothy Counts, one of my experts, walking to Harding High School in 1957.
She was the first Black to attend the school.  
The photo originally appeared in The Charlotte Observer. 

People often wonder how I found these experts. I learned to ask everyone, "Who else should I talk to?". Tom Hanchett, Charlotte's local historian recommended several individuals. Others were patients of my dentist husband who were long-time Charlotteans. Others were parents of friends. These became my experts whose stories were woven together to create Half-Truths.

WHERE DID I FIND THIS STORY?

As the (working) title indicates, this book is about secrets and "white lies." Ben Franklin wrote in the Farmer's Almanac in 1758, "Half a truth is often a great lie." Over the years, I've thought about the secrets that people choose to conceal or at least, not talk about. I've often wondered what effect that has on the following generations.  As a Christian, I'm committed to telling the truth as commanded in the ninth commandment: "Thou shalt not bear false witness." As I wrote this novel, I had to think about my own "little" half-truths that I tell, and the reasons for them.

One elderly woman, a former debutante, suggested that I not pry into Charlotte in the 1950s and instead, write about my own life. (Who would want to read about growing up in South Jersey? Boring!) I was fascinated by my adopted new hometown and walked and biked around South Park and Myers Park thinking, "What is the story that could have happened here?" When I visited the former Rosenwald School in Grier Heights and saw the picture of a light-skinned Black principal, I found a key part of my story.

Billingsville School in Grier Heights. 
Now a community center. 

JOURNEY HIGHLIGHTS 

 In November 2008, following Joyce's advice, I joined NaNoWriMo for the first time. I didn't feel ready, but it helped me create a first draft.

Pretty soon I realized that I didn't know what I didn't know. I attended workshops and webinars, conferences, and classes. I read books and blogs on plotting, conflict, and character; participated in several critique groups, and received critiques from industry professionals. Throughout this time, my best writing buddy, Linda Phillips, and Joyce encouraged me, asked me pointed questions, and provided feedback.

From the left: Joyce Hostetter, myself, and Linda Phillips
 at a writer's retreat in 2011.

But why did it take 16 years? First, I spent a long time trying to figure out where the story began. HALF-TRUTHS takes place in 1950, but at one point I started it with the protagonist's father in WWII. Not even close to the inciting event--which I didn't know a novel needed! 

Despite the fact that I wrote several outlines, I kept getting off track. Whenever I heard a feasible suggestion, "Someone should die," or, "Write it from the points of view of both girls," or, "Include romance," I spent time incorporating these ideas and going down rabbit holes of research. Combine that with going back and forth on whether or not this was a young adult or middle-grade book, I often strayed from my original vision: two girls--one white, one Black, discovering they are related. 

Enter Rebecca Petruck.  Rebecca critiqued several drafts and offered great insight into character arcs, plot points, and internalization. After I had spent a lot of time writing boyfriends for each main character (when I was thinking HALF-TRUTHS was a young adult book), Rebecca told it to me straight. I had lost the essence of the story--the girls' relationship.  

Rebecca helped me construct a plot chart in October 2013. 
I learned about Save the Cat! for the first time.

Since all of my readers were saying the book sounded more middle-grade, I ditched the boyfriends and the young adult genre. Along the way, I continued to interview folks and read and review middle-grade books. I particularly enjoyed Kathy Weichman's historical novels. Winner of the first Grateful American Book Prize, Kathy used to joke that she is the poster child for perseverance. I think I might be tying her for that distinction. 

Joyce Hostetter and I have swapped manuscripts over the years. Last February she suggested that I hire an editor to bring the book to the next level. I asked several trusted professionals in the Kidlit community for recommendations and found Deborah Halverson. She is a treasure.

In June 2022, I shared one page from Deborah's comprehensive editorial letter. For the next six months, I worked on incorporating her suggestions. I took out Kate's free verse poetry and changed it to journal-type entries in her steno pad. This fits Kate's goal of becoming a journalist. I worked on more youthful language, made Kate the instigator for the major change in her life, tightened the ending, and strengthened the City Girl vs. Country Girl motif as Rebecca had suggested years ago--but I'd forgotten!

In other words, I revised. A few weeks ago I was rewarded with these words from Deborah: 

In this revision, I feel you have accomplished your goals with this project, creating an entertaining, enlightening, compelling, and satisfying story for middle graders. I believe young readers will connect with Katie immediately and root for her throughout. Her growth is inspirational, showing the triumph of a flawed but earnest young person. 

Deborah's words gave me a boost of confidence that finally brought me to the...

of this stage. But it is also the beginning of an exciting time--being on submission!

WHAT'S NEXT?

For my friends and family who are reading this and aren't writers, you may be wondering what happens next. Remember those conferences and webinars I mentioned? At each one, I collected the names of agents and editors who expressed interest in the manuscript. Many said they didn't care how long it took. They just wanted to see it when it was the best I could make it. 

Now I take out that list, organize it through Query Tracker, and start sending out the manuscript.

If you are a writer, how did you feel when you began submitting your work? Please share your experiences in the comments. 

GIVEAWAY

Obviously, I don't have a copy of Half-Truths to give away, but I'm cleaning off my bookshelves to make room for the books I'll need for my next project. Over the last 16 years, I learned that I'm definitely a plotter, rather than a panster. For those of you who abhor outlines, I'm giving away my (slightly marked-up) copy of WRITING INTO THE DARK. Leave me a comment with your email address by February 1 and it could be yours.

Congratulations to Emily Weitz who won MY SCHOOL IN THE RAIN FOREST.

Please take a minute to see views about other middle-grade books on Greg Pattridge's Always in the Middle blog.

Memoirs of a Tortoise: Picture Book Review and Giveaway

 Congratulations to Danielle Hammelef who won The Voice that Won the Vote from last week's blog.

Memoirs of a Tortoise (Sleeping Bear Press, 2020) is a clever and heart-warming book written by Devin Scillian and beautifully illustrated by Tim Bowers.  Young readers will follow a year in the life of Oliver, an 80-year-old tortoise, whose "pet" is his fellow senior citizen, Ike. It is a book about friendship, aging, and taking time to enjoy the world around us. 

REVIEW

April

It's a glorious day and Ike just brought me a plate of lettuce and dandelions and a bright, crunchy apple.

Ike is my pet. I love Ike. And Ike loves me. He runs his hand across my shell and tells me so.

This, this is life and it's beautiful.

May

Ike throws a stick and says, "Oliver, fetch!" But we just laugh because we both know I'm not chasing a silly stick. We do this every day.

 

 

Oliver ambles across the garden to enjoy the hibiscus. He remembers his mother telling him, "The whole world is in a hurry. They miss so much."

July

"... this is my favorite time of all, just me and Ike and this beautiful garden. How long can we sit here? How about forever?" 

October

Everything about life has slowed down--including Ike. When the baby pool and garden hose aren't put away, Oliver beings to wonder. Where is Ike?

When Oliver sees sad people come to Ike's home, he realizes that Ike is gone and decides to visit his 137-year-old mother. But it's a long walk to her garden and Oliver has to cross ten gardens to get to her. Finally, he sees her wide smile and sparkly eyes.

February

"Why do we have to lose people? Why couldn't Ike stay with me?"

Mother smiles. She closes her eyes and raises her head to the sun.

"We only get to have pets in our lives for a little while, she says. They don't live as long as we do. So we have to enjoy them every day."

April

Oliver is glad to be back home, but when the door to the house opens, he looks for Ike. But he isn't there. Instead, his son Ted greets Oliver. 

"I'm so glad you came home, Oliver. It's you and me now."

Parents and grandparents will enjoy reading this sweet story to their children and grandchildren. 

GIVEAWAY

Leave a comment by 6 PM on Friday, November 27 to enter the giveaway. Please leave me your email address if you are new to my blog. 

 

Back on Earth: A Review and Giveaway

Congratulations to Bridgett Bell Langson who won, The Miscalculations of Lightning Girl.

"I wrote BACK ON EARTH: When Men First Landed on the Moon in anticipation of the fiftieth Apollo Eleven anniversary in 2019," North Carolina author Gretchen Griffith said. "I wanted today's young readers to understand how significant this event was to the children who witnessed it."

Illustrated by Bobbie Gumbert, this non-fiction picture book for elementary school students invites readers to participate in the experience. Here is the opening paragraph: 

Two of us landed on the moon July 20, 1969. Those of us back on earth stared into the sky. "Was the moon any different?" we wondered. 

Gretchen used the first person plural to emphasize that, "This story is much bigger than my personal reflections. It is a story about a world-wide corporate experience." In choosing that unique point of view, she aligns those watching the launch, the landing, and the recovery with the astronauts who made history plus implies that the reader is also part of the historic event. 

"Those of us at the launch site felt the ground tremble under our feet. We saw birds rousted from their nests."

In BACK ON EARTH there is a great juxtaposition of ordinary events along with what was going on in outer space:

While we waited [for the landing], we played space games. We designed helmets with tin foil and pretended we were astronauts. We pretended we could fly like birds. We strapped thermos jugs to our backs for make-believe air tanks...We mixed orange flavored powder in glasses of water and sipped the same tangy drink as the astronauts. 

After three long days of waiting, the Eagle landed!

"That's one small step for man,
One giant leap for mankind." Neil Armstrong

Gretchen included a list of YouTube titles, a glossary, and information on how to interview others who witnessed the moon landing with the hopes that "this will start the conversation between generations."

Just in case you want to watch (or re-watch) the landing, YouTube offers this:

GIVEAWAY: Leave me a comment by November 1 with your email address if you are new to my blog. Gretchen will send the winner a personally autographed book. US addresses only. 

Primary Lessons: A Memoir by Sarah Bracey White

“As an African-American child growing up in the segregated pre-Civil Rights South, Sarah Bracey White pushed against the social conventions that warned her not to rock the boat, even before she was old enough to fully understand her urge to defy the status quo. In her candid and poignant memoir, Primary Lessons, White recalls a childhood marked by equal measures of poverty and pride—formative years spent sorting through the “lessons” learned from a complicated relationship with her beloved, careworn mother and from a father’s absence engendered by racial injustice and compromised manhood.” (Press release from CavanKerry Press) 

 

Photo taken in 1963 at Sarah's Debutante Cotillion, age 17

I don’t normally quote a press release when introducing a book, but I couldn’t improve on this synopsis of Sarah Bracey White’s memoir. I first “met” Sarah in the pages of Childrenof the Dream: Our Own Stories of Growing Up Black in America. After reading about her experiences as a Sumter, South Carolina teen working in a camp for wealthy New England girls, I friended her on Facebook and told her about my work-in-progress. She promptly sent me a copy of her memoir which, has since helped fuel writing Half-Truths. I think Sarah's memoir is best revealed in her own words.

The city buses are a sore spot for me. We don’t have a car, and I seldom have a dime to ride the one that travels from Liberty Street downtown to the shopping area. Even if I did, I wouldn’t want to ride the bus because I hate sitting at the back. Maybe we are poor, but even if we had extra money, it wouldn’t change the thing I hate most: the fear colored adults exhibit toward white people, even white children. (p. 127)

Sarah with her family (minus her father). She's the young lady in front,
about nine years old.

At one point their small house is vandalized. Sarah writes,

Even though we had nothing of value, it’s frightening to think that strangers have spent the day in our house—on my bed. Why had they picked our house? Would they come back?... Why had they smashed them [the figurines]? Were they angry because they found no money or valuables? Whoever they were, they had to be colored. White boys stood out too much in a colored neighborhood to consider mischief like this. (p. 131)

Sarah's home in Sumter, SC

 She recalls the role of supportive teachers:

Maybe my teachers like me because they can see that I’m an outsider, trying to fit into a life I don’t want. Or maybe they like me because they like my mama and know the hardships she endures. Whatever the reasons, my teachers are a source of comfort. They give me approval and confidence. By the time I reach high school, they no longer tell me to stop talking so much. In fact, they encourage my outspokenness and open doors that make it possible for me to use my gifts in ways that benefit me. (p. 142)

Sarah writes: "Lincoln Jr./Sr. High School on Council Street. Here, I learned the basics that allowed me to reach higher ground. It was also the place where teachers and classmates quenched my thirst.This school was not integrated until 1971."

In an unusually frank conversation her mother admitted,  

"Mama. . . Still young and hopeful. Roberta Bracey White"

“The people in this town. They always said I wasn’t good enough for your daddy. He came from a fine respectable family, and I came from nothing. They used to say my real daddy was a white doctor who my mama worked for. 

I’m shocked by Mama’s confession. “Is it true?” I ask. 

“I don’t know. I was always scared to ask my mama about it. When I was about ten, I went over to the doctor’s house and hid behind a tree until he came home. I wanted to see if I looked like him.” 

“Did you?” 

“Not one bit! I didn’t look like my daddy either.” Mama pauses. Her eyes glaze, and she sighs deeply. “I loved my daddy. He used to call me his sunshine. Said I was the light of his life and that it was my job to banish the darkness. I never understood what he meant by that. I love the darkness. In the darkness, I’m the same color as everybody else.” (p. 164-5)

When Sarah asked her mother why she didn’t move north like her siblings did, her mother replied, “When you move out of the south you leave your past behind. The only thing that counts up north is how much you got in your pocket. Everybody up north is running away from their past. The past is all I’ve got."

Sarah wrote, "Today I feel like she has exposed the rusty chain that holds her prisoner in Sumter." (p. 165-6)

"My mother, the teacher"

When Sarah is getting ready to make her debut she considers, 

Until those cotillion classes, I’d only been given instructions on what not to do. A long list of restrictions seemed to say that I was the problem, that my only for survival was to be invisible. But I don’t want to be invisible. I want to stand above the crowd and shine. That’s not the life plan for young colored girls like me. Yet being selected as a debutante has nurtured a rustling hope inside me. Maybe, just maybe, I can escape my fate.(p. 176)

At the cotillion she thinks,

Tonight the fact that we're colored doesn't matter. Tonight I feel like a princess, smiled upon and feted by people I respect and who respect me. Tonight I'm more than just another poor little colored girl living in the shadows. I'm filled with the infinite possibilities of who I can become. (p.179)

Sadly, two weeks after that special evening, Sarah's mother suddenly dies. At the funeral Sarah looks at her mother and thinks, "She looks more peaceful now than she ever looked alive." (p.197)

Sarah has no choice but to continue carrying out her plans. In 1963, she works as kitchen help in Vermont before entering college and receives an education:

When I ask Mrs. Lee [the woman who supervises the help] why we can't ride the horses or swim in the lake she smiles sadly and says, "We're the help, and the help doesn't mingle with the campers." Up north, it seems segregation is a matter of class and skin color. 

Despite my anger at these restrictions, I am shamelessly curious about the campers. Never before have I been in such close proximity to so many white people. Daily it gets easier to eavesdrop on their conversations as they grow used to our brown presence and we become about as significant as the pine trees. No one worries about a pine tree hearing secrets. Soon I learn that white skin brings no solace from problems, that money doesn't ensure smooth boy-girl relationships or prevent sadness and heart ache. I also learn that white girls are cruel to other white girls. I had always assumed that whites were only cruel to colored people. I'm especially shocked to learn that white girls openly envy one another's looks. Almost every girl wants to be blond (I always thought long hair of any color was beautiful) and that every white girl would die for a perfect tan. I don't understand why they want to have skin like ours if they don't like colored people. (p.224)

In another conversation with Mrs. Lee Sarah questions why the white counselors make more money than she does, even though they are all "college girls." 

Mrs. Lee shrugs, just the way Mama used to. "That's how life is," she says. 

I can't understand why adults accept everything. Just because that's the way it's always been doesn't mean that that's the way it should always be. When I get to be an adult, I'm gonna change things. (p.225)

************

Sarah is now the executive director of arts and culture in the town of Greensburgh, NY and teaches at the Hudson Valley Writers Center.  For more information about how Sarah is busy "changing things," please visit her website. 

Sumter County Library Author's Fair
January, 2015

"Finally, a seat at the lunch counter."
Sarah writes, "Places like this [a previously segregated lunch counter in Sumter, SC, ] are always a disappointment to me. We weren't missing anything. ….I wanted to see and document. I spoke with the two black women who have worked here for years."  November, 2013

Book Metaphors, Life Changes, and of course, a Giveaway!

Congratulations to Gretchen Griffith who won the audio CD of The Spy Catchers of Maple Hill on last week's blog.

After twenty-eight years, next week my husband Creighton and I will be loading a truck and moving to the eastern part of North Carolina to be closer to children and grandchildren.  This post is full of  nostalgia, memories, and family. But before it ends, I promise a literary connection too. 

6764 Benning Wood Drive

In this home we celebrated birthdays,

Lindsey Baldwin Kasten
circa 1987

Lisa Baldwin Edgar
circa 1995

And had our family picture taken on the porch.

Baldwins
Circa 1992

We welcomed son's-in-laws, grand-dogs,

Circa 2005

and grandchildren.

Circa 2009
With Ebby and Caitlin

We licked homemade strawberry jam from a century-old pot,

Margaret & Henry Federlin
Circa 2005

And baked cookies,

Lisa and Grandma Federlin
2011

Rachel Federlin, 2012

With my sister,
Barbara Federlin, 2012

more than a few times.

We played poker,

and prayed with friends.

With Beth Schulz, circa 1990.

Our home hosted a few writing retreats,

With Donna Earnhardt, Rebecca Petruck, & Joyce Hostetter
2013

and was the construction site for new dental office cabinets.

"During" with
Robert Toupal
 2012

"After"

Several friends--even those who aren't writers--have waxed poetic about our move.  "You're just ending one chapter and starting a new one." 

And of course, they're right. 

But I'm not the only one who is facing changes.

One of my closest writing buddies, Linda Phillips, is celebrating a new chapter in her life. 

Working on CRAZY at a
Baldwin Writing Retreat
2011

She is on her first book tour in Oregon, celebrating the debut of her YA novel-in-verse, CRAZY.

Linda recently celebrated her launch
at the Oregon Institute of Technology

Linda and I have been friends ever since Fran Davis, a former Regional Advisor of SCBWI-Carolinas, told us that we would work well together as co-chairs of the conference in Charlotte. 

Fifteen years later, I'm celebrating the new chapters in each of our lives by giving away a copy of CRAZY.

There you have it. Book Metaphors, Life Changes. And a Giveaway!

********

Faced any life changes recently or in the past? Leave me a comment by 8 AM on October 30 and tell me about it. Share this in your social media of choice and I'll enter your name twice. Don't forget to tell me what you did and leave your email address if I don't have it. 

Bookends
2014