We had had several other Psychic Nights in the past few weeks. One had been called Organizing Your Orgasms, another had been called Dedicating Your Desires. Tonight’s Psychic Night was titled Your Hormones and You: Taking Over, Taking Cover, Taking Charge.

I thought it sounded splendid.

“Hormones have ruled us forever!” Aunt Lydia scolded me as we worked that morning, the early morning sun cutting through the slats of the chicken house. I glanced at the chicken she held in her hands. She shook the poor bird in her exuberance, and I saw the chicken’s eyes pop in fright. “Isn’t that right, Hilga?” Aunt Lydia yelled at the chicken. She is usually so gentle with her ladies.

“Too much estrogen has robbed us of our inner souls. Hormones flow and fluctuate and dive and soar and make us go damn, damn crazy. I can hardly stand looking at Stash when I’m having a hormone rush. He walks in the door and I feel the need to throw my jam at his head.”

I followed Aunt Lydia through the barn. She let the lady go, and we heard a very grateful sounding cluck cluck. Hilga’s chicken friends gathered around her and cluck clucked sympathetically. “Lydia’s off her hormonal rocker! Hormonal rocker! Hormonal rocker!” I could almost hear them say.

Aunt Lydia loves her chickens, her "ladies." "Take these ladies, for example. If I don't keep a few roosters around here, they get so uppity, so feisty. Every now and then they need to get laid."

“Hormones take over our thoughts and actions. We must learn to control them!” Lydia jabbed a pitchfork into a bale of hay. I was surrounded by chickens, all clucking contentedly now that Aunt Lydia had released their comrade.

“Hormones are a nuisance,” Aunt Lydia announced, picking up eggs from underneath squawking, resting, clucking chickens. “But with yoga, lots of walking, good sex and a little pot, we can be in control. Of course, there’s other ways to be in control of your hormones, but I’ll save my womanly secrets for tonight!”

“…Women need to vent their problems and trials and tribulations and hormone fluctuation levels with other women. Men are hampered by the fact that they have thingies which make them naturally selfish and self centered and boorish and unthoughtful. Women, however, can do it all. Run companies, raise children, volunteer, and tickle men’s teensies at night. Our work is NEVER done!”

“So what time is Psychic Night?” I asked.

Aunt Lydia had five foot tall ceramic pigs in her front yard. She named each of them the name of a man she hated, including her boyfriend, Stash, who had the audacity to beat her at poker. (My sister used to take care of this pig. He was a very nice pig. Polite and well mannered.)

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Hello Carolyn,

So, you and I became writing buddies after I read your book, Heart In The Right Place and I wrote you a  gushy fan mail letter. That is one of my top ten favorite books ever.  EVER.  I just gobbled that thing up. It’s your own personal story. Tell everyone about that book.

Carolyn Jourdan

I was Counsel to the U.S. Senate Committee on Environment and Public Works when my mother had a heart attack and I was asked to come home and fill in for her on her job for a couple of days. My father was a family doctor in a very rural area near the Smoky Mountains. Momma was his sidekick, receptionist, bookkeeper, nurse, and lab technician.

I did not want to leave my glamorous, fast lane job, but I did, under pressure. What was supposed to be a couple of days turned into four years. I never went back to Washington.

Daddy treated a lot of his patients for free and if he’d had to pay someone to do Momma’s job, he’d have to start charging people who couldn’t afford to pay. The book is about adjusting to public service as an unpaid receptionist and living in my parent’s basement rather than public service Washington, DC style, from a Lear Jet.

2) You are really smart, smart, smart. Tell me about those degrees of yours again and your career path.

I was always good at math, so the easiest degree for me to get in college happened to be in biomedical engineering. Unfortunately, I could never even get an interview for a job as an engineer because it was too early for men to even consider hiring women. So, I went to law school. I was supposed to be a doctor, but I’m horribly squeamish and prone to hysteria, so that was out of the question. I did really well as a lawyer, but hated it because the system is totally broken. Getting forced out of law was a blessing in disguise.

3) I just finished reading your self published, mystery e-book, Out On A Limb and I loved it. I loved the truthful, quirky characters, the suspense, the medical information, and the stunning picture you gave of the Smoky Mountains. I loved that a woman climbed as high as she could in trees.

You said that twelve publishing houses rejected it and your agent told you to “quit writing.” What a dumb agent.  Was he sober? When did you decide to to be a daredevil and self publish and what does self publishing with Amazon involve?

Everything I wrote for 7 years after my first book was rejected, even though my first book was a big national success and got on lots of lists of best books of the year. My own agent told me I should quit writing. It was horrible. I genuinely thought the subsequent books were great, but no “professionals” agreed with me. So I was screwed. Traditional publishing had a lock on the industry until very recently.

But then I lost my job as Webmaster for the non-profit with Great Smoky Mountains National Park and in a burst of hysteria immediately self-published the book “Medicine Men,” a collection of the most memorable moments from a dozen elderly rural Appalachian doctors. I did it through Amazon’s KDP Select Program and in 24 hours it went to #1 on Amazon. Duh. I hadn’t even proofread it properly. I was genuinely panicked about how to make a living and just published it because it was free to try and because I thought I understood social media after being a Webmaster for years and creating a huge Facebook presence for the Park with no money.

The big insight here is that 80% of book buyers are women, most of whom are middle-aged, and that’s also similar to the demographic of who is on Facebook. Older women are running social media and are not recognized for it (what’s new). But those are my peeps, so I figured if I honestly liked my books, they would too.

I offered the book for free for 2 days and after the first day it was #1 in the Kindle free book store!! Since then it’s been a bestseller and one of the highest-rated indie published Memoir/Biographies.

And then….

Two months later I self-published my first work of fiction, a mystery called “Out on a Limb,” the same way. That book had been rejected by 3 agents and 14 publishers. And it went to #9 in the entire Kindle free book store in 24 hours. Double duh.

4) Excellent news.  I bet those agents and publishers are pounding their heads against their desks now, sneaking sips of scotch and wondering if they should become plumbers. 

This is very cheery, too, for others who want to self – publish. You must be absolutely delighted, down to your Tennessee toes, that you took this route. What are the pros and cons?

Self-publishing has been a revelation. There are no cons, really.

5) What are you working on now? Do you think you’ll continue to self publish in the future?

I am finishing a hilarious and touching memoir for a wildlife ranger in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park and will self-publish it the same way as the first two books.

6) On my list. I cannot wait to read it.

I have loved learning about the Smoky Mountains in your book. I want to come and hang with you and have dinner on your deck after we go hiking in the Smokies. I do not want to see growly bears, though, unless they are a long ways away because I don’t want to get eaten and I also don’t want to converse with those wild, snuffly pigs you talked about in your book. Make sure you hammer up a notice on a tree to those animals to keep their distance on my visitation days. I’m sure they’ll read it.

What advice for people do you have about self publishing?

You have to have a great title and cover and a really good descriptive blurb. If the cover looks less than professional, that will really hurt.

In my spare time, I daydream and guzzle too much coffee. What do you do in your spare time? 

Medicinal herb gardening.

Aha. Maybe a topic for a new book, then?  If I get sick, I’ll call you.  I will not eat flowers, though. Heads up on that. And I will not eat anything with the word “wart” in it. I’m game otherwise. Sort of. 

Thanks for your time. You rock as a writer, Carolyn, my friend. You do. 

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1) “Write What You Know” is a ridiculous rule. Don’t follow it.

A writer and a bridge have a lot in common. A bridge connects two pieces of land. You must connect with your reader.

I have written about the following things that I knew little or nothing about and had to research the hell out of ’em: Schizophrenia, bi-polar, inserting peanut oil into a condom, abusive childhoods, sexual abuse, blow up dolls, bar fights, lousy mothers, abandonment, being a psychic, stalking, anger management class, running naked along a river, hiding a dead body, germaphobia, drug addiction, being obese, murder, being a legal secretary, building wood chairs and painting them, Down Syndrome, being a stripper, planting a garden, running a bakery, carving a seven foot tall wood penis, being an edgy life coach, atonement, medicinal herbs, greenhouses, running a lingerie company, and organizing a fashion show.

When I started writing I knew only a little about a few boring subjects. If I had followed the Write What You Know rule, I never would have published. Psshht. Write what you know if you damn well feel like it. If you don’t, go do your research.

2) Write what you freakin’ want to write about. Write about that one subject or person(s) that you are passionate about. Does the topic/person light your imagination on fire? Can you feel the flames and smell the smoke? Then that’s what you run with. Address what issues you wish to address. Create people you love to write about who are deep and troubled and interesting. Make them clash with other people/things and themselves. Give them problems, challenges,throw in a compelling setting, and take off like a Maserati.

3) Identify your theme(s) and build your story around it. A theme holds your story together, much like my mugs hold in my copious amounts of Haagen Dazs dulce du leche ice cream. Theme=ice cream.

4) Don’t get all fancy schmancy with your words and sentences. What are you, Ms. Brilliant? You’ll lose the reader and they’ll never buy your books again.

Write with color. The color in your novel might be black. They could be red and yellow, with a mixture of gray. We have to see, as readers, your work in color. Your work must come alive.

5) Please let your characters loose. Listen to them. Follow them around. Let them breathe and commit crimes and laugh at odd things and chase bad men and be wishful, temperamental, and irritating. They are people. Let them be full people.

6) Get rid of the negative creatures orbiting your personal universe. If you want to be a writer and someone around you says you’ll never make it, don’t hang out with that person again.

7) Write with emotion, unless you are writing about amoebas or worms. If you do not write with emotion, people will not feel any emotion reading your work, and that is where you lose. Dig waaay deep into your own swirling and churning emotions. Now take one of  ’em out and give it to your character and let her deal with it. That’s called being authentic.

8) Outline, I suppose, if you must. I don’t. I journal, I scribble, I paste pictures from magazines on the pages, I sketch out characters, I make my notes, I play in my brain, but most of my story is in my head and the story changes as I write. Be careful that your outline doesn’t create a rigid, too organized, non – flowing, too predictable story.

9) Embrace subplots as if they are chocolate chip cookies. They help move the story along, provide entertainment, open up your character’s personality and motives, give a reprieve from the main story line, and bring in other characters who provide humor or interest.

10) Set goals, please, if you wish to publish. Stick to the goals always, unless your left hand has fallen off, then you can get a break for a couple of weeks until you master the keyboard using only one hand.

Go write. Be brave. Be ridiculous. Be wild. But go write.

Your writing should make people stop, think, and wonder much like a thundering waterfall makes people stop, think, and wonder.

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My character, Jaden Bruxelle….

I love herbs, spices, and flowers. Herbs and spices are in my blood; they are imbedded in my DNA.

As a tribute to our family line, going back to England, we all grow, including Caden: thyme, sage, rosemary, parsley, oregano, lavender, Canterbury bells, hollyhocks, lilies, irises, sweet peas, cosmos, red poppies, peonies, and rows and rows of roses.

My mother and Grandma Violet both taught me that herbs have been used for medicinal purposes for thousands of years. Some worked, some didn’t. Some healed, some killed. Some were neutral, there was no effect.

Hyssop was inhaled if one had a sore or scratchy throat. Large doses were terminally bad for one’s health, so one had to watch it. Horehound could soothe and calm a bite from a nasty serpent or kill worms wiggling away inside you.

Mistletoe has been used in the past to help with heart disease and with “falling sickness,” gout, and a variety of nervous disorders. It is also, unfortunately, poisonous.

Monk’s hood, quite poisonous, was used to kill.

         The witches in my family line have always grown herbs and used them in food, for healing sicknesses and giving someone a sickness, for love, revenge, protection, and to make people die they thought should go.  They’ve also been used for spells and chants.

It was those spells and chants that got two of my ancestors, born Iris and Rosemary, into trouble.

Iris and Rosemary, the rebellious daughters of Henrietta and Elizabeth, who started The Curse in our family, were literally chased from their estates outside London by a torch-wielding mob that wanted to flog them after they cast a few drunken spells in a bar.

“As they thundered away on horses,” Grandma Violet told me, peering through her glasses, blue eyes serious, “one of the witch’s petticoats caught on fire. You’ve heard your mother and I use the term a “petticoats on fire” problem? There’s where it came from.”

I remember gasping. “She was on fire?”

“A spark from a torch hit her. Her brother and her cousin’s brother ripped the petticoat off and they all hopped back on those horses and galloped down the road through the night to the port. The brothers told them to change their names from Iris Platts and Rosemary Compton, to Faith and Grace Stephenson, before they scrambled onto the ship to America.”

  My grandma reached up to a shelf to reorganize her endless, clear bottles of herbs and spices. “They figured that if they were named Faith and Grace, not only could they hide their identities as reputed witches, they would appear more holy, more Christian, and less likely to be accused of being witches again. Faith and Grace never forgot who they were, despite the torch wielders, and they taught their daughters everything they knew about herbs and spices, spells and chants, like I teach you, Jaden.”

I do not grow herbs for spells and chants, because that is ridiculous, though my otherwise sane and deeply intellectual mother and Grandma Violet taught me a multitude of them as a child and both said often, “Once a witch, always a witch.”

I grow herbs in my greenhouse to make my meals yummy. I grow herbs and flowers because then I feel connected to my mother, Grandma Violet, and all our women ancestors who grew the same herbs and flowers that I do.  I grow them because I love to nurture living things…

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I Want to Be a Fiction Writer

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 How I Write Full Time And Run A House

I have three teenagers, a husband, and an odd cat who is in love with my husband and lays on his chest every night. I’m also a women’s fiction writer.  Here’s a little cheat sheet on how I run my house while working full time.

I do not fold this stuff...life is too short and sweet.

1)      I do not fold my family’s laundry.  I remember listening to a mother many years ago, when my daughter was a baby, complaining that she had spent two hours folding laundry the day before. I looked at her and thought, “She is absolutely insane. I will never, ever be like that woman.”

I wash laundry, I put it in the dryer, and I plop it on the floor. My kids come and get their laundry – this started when they were two – and put it in their drawers/closets themselves. Life is precious. Do not waste time folding clothes.

2)      I rarely dust. I cannot possibly picture drumming up enough energy to make sure every speck is off my surfaces.  How dreary. It takes time away from my imagination. Another time saver? I don’t even sort my silverware, I just toss it altogether into a drawer after it’s cleaned.

I just toss the silverware in and go on my la dee da way.

3)      I have streamlined my home.  I am a huge thrower. The best way to a clean house is to throw unnecessary items out on a regular basis like a Tazmanian She – Devil. Do not hesitate here, an organized home is essential to sanity. Get bags and start hauling it out. (This does not apply to my garage. Clearly, a cyclone has hit in there)

4)      I buy a lot of prepared meals to make my life easier. My kids say I don’t cook,  I “heat up.” It makes me laugh. When I sit down at the dinner table, I’m not stressed out so we have a good ole’ time. A home baked meal is worthless if an exhausted mom is crying into the sauce.

A busy child is a better child. Teach them how to clean.

5)      I make my kids help. My son and daughters scrub toilets, vacuum, do dishes, clean bathrooms, help with meals, and wash floors. They always have. I will not do this housework alone. I. Will. Not. Spoiled children grow up to be spoiled adults. Make your children work.

6)      When I have a deadline, everyone helps more. I insist. They don’t help, they incur my wrath. It’s not pretty.

7)      I take time away from my characters, plotlines and household stress to rest.  I have heard so many times, “Take ten minutes out of each day for yourself.” What a crock. Ten minutes is barely enough time to hide in the bathroom or dig into a pint of ice cream. Insist on more time for yourself. Plan time on the weekends. Put the kids to bed earlier and have them read a book.  Take a bath in the dark and if any kid interrupts you and they’re

Reeellax...

not bleeding through their ears, take their favorite show away from them for a week. They’ll change immediately.  You are a better woman if you’re not living like your hair’s on fire all day.

Nothing wrong with Poker Night with the family

8)      We have family dinners, even when I know I’ll be up until three in the morning writing. I see articles saying, “Have Family Dinner Once a Week,” and I just want to cry. That is not enough. If your kids are all in sports late, then have a Family Dessert Time afterwards. Family movie night with brownies. Pizza Night on Sunday. Poker night. You MUST get your family together more than once a week. Your kids must internalize that family is the most important thing in their lives.

9)      One more thing…I compete with no one.  Do not compete with other women for the perfect house, clothes, family.  Do not compete with your neighbors or family members. If people are competing with you, drop them, irritating people must hit the highway.

Never strive for household perfection. It’s a pointless exercise, and it’s shallow and boring. Invite honest, fun, interesting people to your home for fettuccine alfredo and chocolate pie. Be happy about the little things in life, be grateful that you are still here and, most of all, enjoy your family and friends, every day.

Gotta go. Must write.

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I thought you all might like to see a Facebook conversation I had with people about whether or not I should attend a sex toys party I was invited to….

Cathy Lamb

Well, I woke up this morning and what did I see? I’ve been invited to a sex toy party.In my mother’s day, they went to tupperware parties.

Now I’ve been sleepin’ with the same man for 22 years so I can’t decide if I’d rather go to a sex toy party or a Tupperware party, but new Tupperware sounds really nice. Am I that old and boring?

Sex toys or new Tupperware people? Be honest!!

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Today I am interviewing my friend and fellow writer, Marie Bostwick…

The first two people who comment below, unless you have already been a lucky devil and won a book from me, will receive a signed book from Marie.

Cathy: Tell us about yourself. Start when you were a one year old and move up from there but don’t talk on and on forever, if you know what I mean. Not like when you and I talk on the phone, where our conversations go on endlessly and the CIA is probably listening in.  

My pal, Marie. You rock, Marie!

Marie: Hmmm…Interesting question. Nobody has ever asked me about being one before. And it gives me the chance to tell you something about myself that nobody, outside my family, knows.

When my mother got pregnant with me, my parents already had three daughters. My dad was hoping for a son and so, possibly in the mistaken belief that if you just say something often enough you can make it happen, he used to pat my mother’s pregnant belly and tell my sisters, “This is your baby brother.” That is why, from the day of my birth until I was about six and told everybody to knock it off, my nickname was Baby Brother.

Being the fourth in a long line of girls, nobody paid a whole lot of attention to me when I was little – not that I was neglected or anything, just that my folks had been through this a bunch of times already so there was nothing about raising a fourth daughter that they found particularly fascinating. Too, with all those kids to raise, which she did on her own after my parent’s divorced when I was about four, my mom was pretty busy. Also, it was the sixties. There were no seat belts in cars or plastic covers on electrical outlets then. Kids were pretty much allowed to juggle knives if they felt like it. A couple of my sisters actually did, no kidding, which precipitated a trip to the emergency room – one of many. My poor mother. Whoever said that little girls are “sugar and spice and everything nice” never raised four of them at once. Or met my sisters. But I digress…

As it turned out, being the fourth girl in a family headed by a single mom was the ideal atmosphere for raising a writer. For one thing, I was pretty much left to my own devices, allowed to read as much as I wanted, invent an entire crop of imaginary friends (many of whom are still with me. Unlike other people, I never fired mine when I got big), and spend a lot of time scribbling stories and sad self-absorbed teenage poetry. And well…I just never stopped.

 Cathy: So that’s why you had to become a writer? A slight obsession with daydreaming? A desire to live in another reality? Not good at math?

Between Heaven and Texas comes out April 30, 2013

Marie: Well, some of the stuff above certainly plays into it. But I also think that it was just a compulsion, something I was born with. The first thing I remember writing, and believe it or not I was no more than five years old at the time, was a “screenplay” to go with my grandmother’s movie soundtrack of the musical Camelot. My grandmother loved music and musicals (so do I) and she let me listen to her records whenever I wanted. Camelot was one of my favorites. I probably listened to it a hundred times but I hadn’t seen the movie so one day, I got out some paper and a pencil and started to write a little screenplay to go with the music. Why? Because I needed a story that would make all those songs hang together in a way that made sense to me, something with a beginning, middle and ending. I had bring order to all that chaos.

I suppose there’s an issue of control to all of this. When I’m writing, I get to organize the world in my own way, I get tie up the loose ends and answer the unanswered questions in a way that make sense in my mind. It’s very comforting. And usually much more interesting than real life. And, of course, I can always conjure up a happy ending if I want one. (By the way, I pretty much always want one.)

Cathy: If you were not a writer, what would you be? A ballerina? A unicorn? A welder?

 Marie: Well, I’ve always thought it would be interesting to be a stand-up comedian. I think I’m pretty funny, though my children have assured me, over and over again, that I am not.

Cathy:  Let the rest of us step into your wild and wacky mind for a second and dance and skip about. Tell us all about your writing process…how you get those fantastic ideas…build characters, etc.

Marie: Truthfully, I have no clue where the ideas and characters come from but I’m incredibly grateful that, even after all this time, they still do. More often than not, a character just shows up in my head and starts talking. For most people, hearing voices is a cause for concern but for a writer this is perfectly acceptable, even encouraged.

Cathy:  Good to know that you hear voices, too. I like my voices. Most of the time. Sometimes they argue with me too much.  How would you describe your books, darlin’?

Marie: Well, some people call them women’s fiction and I guess I’d be fine with that since I am a woman and I do write fiction. But there’s no such thing as men’s fiction so it all feels a little “pink-collar ghetto” to me. Too, I think that label discourages men from picking up my books, which is such a shame. While most of my characters are women, I’ve got some outstanding male characters too. (I think I’m getting better at writing about men as I get older.) So there is a lot in my books that men could relate to, if they’d give them a chance.

All that being said, I write books that primarily deal with issues that I think real women are dealing with in their real lives: marriage, singleness, the need for friendship, how to give to others without losing yourself, issues that come with finacial pressures, or financial plenty, questions about faith, mortality, and loss. As you can see, my characters go through some real struggles but, as I said before, there’s almost always a happy ending. Life is hard but fiction doesn’t have to be. That’s my motto and I’m sticking to it.

Cathy: Huh! I’m diggin’ your motto.  But I will add this: Writing fiction can make you want to pull your hair out, strand by strand. So, if your books were made into movies, which actresses would play which characters?

Marie: Well, aside from some of my Christmas novellas, which I think would make fabulous films, I’m pretty confident that none of my books will ever be made into movies – not enough explosions or sex – so I’ve spent very little time thinking about this. However, I do think Meryl Streep would make an absolutey perfect Abigail Burgess-Wynne. But I suspect that Meryl Streep would do a fabulous job playing just about any character on earth.

Cathy: What are you working on now? Come on, Marie. Give us the scoop.

Marie: My next Cobbled Court book, number 6 in the series. This one is about a couple who is trying to resurrect their relationship and marriage after infidelity. It’s been very slow going – this is a subject where you really need to dig deep into the thoughts, emotions, and motivations of the characters – but I think it’s a book that will be of value to anyone who has ever been married or in a serious relationship.

Cathy: I’m married. Twenty years. Some years longer than others. Not as long as you, though. What’s your day like? Be honest. 

 Marie: My days are long and either incredibly productive or incredbily not. Either way, I work all the time, just like you, Cathy. And when the deadline is looming, I work even more. But, no matter how close the deadline, I never, ever don’t wash my hair. Some things are sacrosanct.

Cathy: Hey! Why the jab about my hair!  I get busy on deadline!!  Sheesh. So, What are your favorite hobbies and activities? What do you think of Keanu Reeves?

Marie: I like to read, and quilt and buy fabric. And shoes. I love shoes. I play the piano – anything you want in the key of C – and I am learning to play guitar but, so far, I really suck at it. Actually, I don’t think about Keanu Reeves. I used to but then I realized he only has eyes for you so, why torture myself?

Cathy:  So you’re a shoe addict? There must be help for that. Too bad for you on the Keanu part. Glad your torture is over and you have admitted the obvious about Keanu’s feelings towards me. Are you ever – so – slightly crazy? I think you are.

 Marie: Yes. I’ll tell you what my agent said about that, not long after I signed with her.

I was having a little crisis and she asked me what was wrong and I said I didn’t want to tell her because we were still getting to know each other and I didn’t want to her to think I was that crazy writer. And she said, “Don’t worry about that. You’re all crazy, you know. But you seem very high-functioning.”

I took this as a compliment.

 Cathy: High functioning crazy is awesome. What’s your advice for people who want to become crazy, high functioning, published writers?

Marie: Read a lot. And read books written by writers who are better than you. Be prepared to work very hard. Learn to handle criticism and rejection. Better yet, learn how to learn from criticism and rejection. Don’t fire your imaginary friends – give yourself permission, time, and space to live and think creatively. Write the stories you like, not the stories you think will sell. And speaking of selling, if you’re doing it for the money, don’t. There probably isn’t as much of it as you think there is. Write because you can’t help yourself. Write because you love it. If you’re called to it, there is no more satisfying life than that of a writer.

Cathy: I am totally undomesticated and could burn water if given a chance.  But you sew beautiful quilts. Can we see some of them?

 Marie: Why, yes! I thought you’d never ask!

Blessings,
Marie Bostwick
www.mariebostwick.com

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Sheila Hagar

Cathy Lamb:  You and I met when we were both freelance writers for The Oregonian and we’ve been girlfriends ever since. How many years ago was that?

Sheila Hagar: Oh my gosh. I remember reading your piece about your vodka-drinking, tomato-growing neighbor Bonnie, and immediately emailing the Sunday Forum editor, Pat Harrison, to express my admiration for your work. I am guessing that was in 2001. I think we had both been getting published by Pat and others at The Oregonian pretty regularly by then. You told me you also loved my pieces and had been planning to write me. This was before the paper published email addresses of commentary writers, so we had to ask the headmistress permission for everything.

2.  What led you to writing?

I believe it was the same thing that led me to breathing.

3.      Tell us about your current job.
OK! I have one of the best jobs one could ask for in current journalism markets. I write for a small daily newspaper as a health and social services reporter. I also do a bi-monthy lifestyles column and a blog, which I post there during what I call my smoke breaks. Blog writing is such a stress reliever that it is literally like walking away from my regular duties and indulging myself.

Because the Walla Walla Union-Bulletin is small, I also get to veer off my beat ALL THE TIME to do some of the really fun stuff, like make videos, do podcasts and write some reality experiental columns. I’m trying to talk my editor into letting me do a cosmetic surgery piece next.

 4.      Sheila, you daredevil woman, your columns are often very personal. Is it scary to open yourself up to that many people?

In the beginning, no. I put up the baby gates to block off my living room while my toddler twins ran around like hooligans and just wrote, wrote, wrote. It was very self-absorbed and cathartic.

In a few months, however, people starting recognizing me and discussing their favorite columns while I was grabbing gallons of milk. I remember one awakening moment when I was shopping in a Washington store. As an Oregon resident, I signed a tax exempt form at the check out counter. I was not having a good day with my children and I was using the “Mommy is damn grumpy” voice, by the way. The woman behind me obviously looked at my signature and rushed over to tell me that my piece about my mother’s death had changed the way she felt about her relationship with her own mother. She thanked me.

That was the day I told my husband we needed to not be yelling at the kids in public, no matter how many times they had asked for candy. After that, it became a lot harder to imagine no one was actually reading my stuff.

5.      What do you like about writing a column and being a reporter?

Where to even start? First of all, I get an open door into the lives of the most amazing people. I get to tell our readers about the most compassionate, horrific, joyful and devastating things happening in their community. Sometimes, as my husband is quite fond of saying (and for which he gets a good swat), I get to change lives.
Also, let’s not kid ourselves — my job lets me ask very nosy questions that people fail to realize they don’t have to answer. Not to mention, I have gotten to interview people I would never normally encounter, in worlds that are closed to the common folk, for the most part.

6.      Who are your three favorite newspaper columnists?

Ellen Goodman, may she retire in peace; Anna Quindlen and … well, of course, I cut my reading teeth on Art Buchwald. And Mike Royco, who gave me courage, and John Kass who followed in his Chicago Trib footsteps! Can I have more than three?

7.      Nope. You can’t. I’m limiting you, Hagar. Another questions: If you could bring three dead writers back to life and have lunch with them, who would you choose?

Erma Bombeck, to ask her if she ever had to manually dial up “funny,” Mike Royco to just bask in his sharp wit, and Beverly Cleary, to thank her for making me feel normal. Wait…she’s still here, right? Ms. Cleary, THANK YOU SO MUCH! Can we have wine together?

8.      And three living writers? Why?

Cathy, you’re making my head hurt. There are way too many writers I adore. Love. Drool over. I do have to say I am currently in love with Kent Haruf’s writing. And I would invite Anne Tyler over any time. And you, my middle-of-the-night sister.

9.      Share with us, Sheila. What does your day usually look like as you manage both a career and a family?

Camo Man and I get up at 4:30 and head straight for the coffee pot and the dog crates. I make breakfast while he showers, we unload the dishwasher and drink our first cup of coffee together. He leaves and I head for the shower and after that, everything is a blur until we reconvene in the late afternoon. We have his-and-hers teens at home, although that is getting close to “ours” every day. We do a lot of that intense teen parenting, we attend community functions, we chase each other around the house while the kids roll their eyes. We clean too much, as I still struggle with that little OCD issue, as you recall. But geez Louise, why can’t people put their dishes in the dishwasher?

I am trying to leave work at work, but I can’t help but be a reporter. Technology only serves to make that problem worse.

At the end of the day, we fall into bed and we have… hang on, what audience is this going out to?

10.  With three grown children and three younger, what advice do you have for working mothers?

Keep red wine in your bedroom closet. A wine glass is not necessary. Send Amazon gift cards on a random basis to the people who might be called on to provide emergency child care. Find a natural hair style you can live with to cut down morning routine time, buy two of everything that fits and flatters. Find and purchase really good makeup. Tell your children if they text you one more time during school, you will have to deactivate their Facebook accounts — to hell with matching the consequences to the crime.

11.  What are your future goals for your career?

In newspapers, our only real goal is to KEEP OUR JOBS. I want to serve my readers to the best of my ability, always. I used to think I wanted to write a book, and now I know I don’t, but figure I’ll have to someday write about raising kids with mental illness. Because my head will not shut up until I do.

12.  What are you reading right now? (You don’t have to say you’re reading one of my books, I won’t throw anything at you if you’re not.)

Seriously? I am trying to mow through a million page New York Times piece about the science of making junk food additive, I just finished “Room,” Haruf’s newest book arrived from Amazon a couple of days ago and I just finished “Olive Kitteridge” by Elizabeth Strout. “Henry’s Sisters” is on my nightstand, moving up toward the top.

13.  In your spare time you like to….

…snuggle with Camo Man! Oh, Heaven, I love that man! Plus, of course, there is the home remodeling addiction I fight without much success. Now he’s hooked on the DIY and HGTV shows, too, and we watch house porn in bed.

Thank you, Sheila! 

Blog: http://blogs.ublabs.org/fromthestorageroom/

Newspaper: http://union-bulletin.com/

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Every time I start a new novel I buy a new journal, or several journals. I fill it with thoughts and pictures. I write and scribble, cut and paste, ponder and sketch.

I’m starting a novel this week, diving head first into my zany imagination. I’m letting my mind travel around and about, hoping to find creativity in the clouds, crocuses, and Haagen Dazs.

Here are photos of pictures I’ve glued into my  journal and a few photos I’ve taken that are making me ask questions about my character and the plot…

Mosaics. Broken pieces turned into something lovely An artist? Tortured soul? Happy creator? Why does she like to create? Is her art dark and depressing? Joyful? What is her spirit like? What is she made of when she's all put together?

I'm thinking about flowers. I do love flowers...has anyone ever given her flowers? Does a particular type of flower give her nightmares? Does the scent of honeysuckle make her sick? Does a pink rose bring her back to a cruel time? Do daffodils bring a smile or a laugh? Has she ever smashed flowers with her feet while crying? Why?

Mosaic Man. What can you do with old things to make them pretty? Does my character feel pretty? Is she pretty? Is she tired and frumpy? Why? Does she feel ugly inside, and therefore her actions are not always appropriate? Has anyone ever told her she's pretty? Is being pretty important to her? Is character more important?

Garden Art? Have I done that already? I think Stevie in SUCH A PRETTY FACE had a cool garden, better not repeat it. Must be careful of that...

Nature? Does she love it, fear it, always in it, never in it? Does nature make her think too hard? Does the quiet unnerve her? Does she feel small in the face of a mountain? Or in awe? Does nature make her feel fulfilled or lost?

Where will she live? City or small town? Will she hide in either place? If so, why is she hiding? What will she do when she gets there? How will she fit in? Is fitting in important to her? Has she ever felt like she fit in? Is she broke?

Birds. I like birds. Will they be in the book? Types? Migratory patterns? Wings? How is my character like a bird, or not? Will she spread her wings? Are her wings broken and how? If she could choose her own wings, what would they look like? Rainbow colored? Glittering? Black and broken?

Fishing. Drift Boats. Dinner...how do I work that in? Is fishing a part of her life? Why? Who taught her? Is that person still alive? What was that relationship like?

What are my character's challenges and future roadblocks? What has ripped her apart? What did she do that she regrets? What does she look forward to? Is there anything for her to look forward to? Is she grateful? Ambitious? Focused? Crazy?

Love the image here. Why do I love it? Don't know...I do like shutters, though. How will shutters figure into the book? Are there shutters in her home? Shutters on her heart? Was she hit with a broken piece of shutter when she was a kid? Did she, as an adult, whack someone with a broken shutter? Why?

I love watching leaves change. But I've used leaves and the seasons before as symbols...I need a new symbol.

Escaping down a new road? Why does she need to escape? Is escaping possible?

Will she make a new friend? Will the friend be true, or will she betray her? What does friendship look like to her? Does she have friends? IS SHE LONELY? Is she alone? Is she a loner or does she need people?

How will she find peace? Does she find peace? Is it possible for her to find peace? Should she settle for peace and a little mental chaos now and then? Should we all settle for that?

Flowers. Magic. Premonitions. Picnics. Stargazing. Death. Blood. (I told you my mind travels in strange ways!)

What is she afraid of? Does fear guide her decisions? Does she dare? Does rushing water scare her? Does she want to climb to the top of a mountain? Does she prefer being inside, in front of a fire?

What are the themes for the book? What am I really trying to say underneath it all? What does my character need to say?

Love the image here. Why do I love it? Maybe it's home. Imaginary homes for birds who talk. Bird families. Families. Broken families, loving families. What will she have? Will she have a family at all?

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