I tell wonder-filled stories about hope and healing
If you need me today, I’ll be on Cloud Nine. I’m honored to share that my book received the Readers’ Favorite Gold Medal in the young adult adventure genre and the Wind Dancer Films award for film and TV production consideration. Thank you to everyone who has cheered me on and encouraged me along this long and winding road. Your support means everything to me!
Congratulations to all the winners! See the full listing by clicking here.
To move my second novel along, I’m waking up 30 minutes early to immediately write whatever stories come to mind about Emerson Page. That means 1/2 an hour into my day, I already feel like I’ve gotten good work done. Here’s what happened Monday morning, in its completely raw, completely unedited form. It needs a lot of work; and that work begins by getting it down.
I think it’s important to show our work as writers, rough as it may be, so that we can understand and learn from each other’s process. It is a slog, but how lucky I am to be able to write freely. There are so many people in this world who live in places where that’s not possible.
Emerson was frantically digging in the rich, deep dirt. As luxurious as it felt in her hands, her heart was racing. They didn’t have much time. She could hear the group approaching from behind—snapping twigs underfoot, the brushing aside of the thick brush. The jungle was a frightening but beautiful place. The darkness often hid danger but it could also provide a place of protection for those who needed to be hidden. Their voices were growing louder and spoke in a language not her own but one she clearly understood.
“Get the girl and then find what she’s looking for.”
A shockwave of pain radiated through Emerson’s right pinky finger. She had jammed it on something hard in the ground where she was digging. Moving her hands so quickly they were nothing but a blur to her sore, tired eyes, a shiny gold surface caught what little light there was filtering through the tangle of vines.
“Here it is, here it is, here it is,” she thought, her mind reeling.
Quickly making her way around the small box, she could see it measured no more than the size of a loaf of bread. Made of a dark wood with a sheen and brass handles on each side, there was a metal plate neatly tacked to the top of it with one word etched on it in curly script: Erato.
Knowing she had very little time left, Emerson grabbed both of the brass handles and pulled as hard as she could. Heaving herself backward into a giant [name of species of tree in the jungle], her head knocked right into the trunk of the tree. Rubbing the back of her head, the box now squarely in her lap, she looked up to see a team of men looming over her, their smiles wicked and filled with broken, dirty teeth.
“So this is the girl, the girl we are supposed to fear so much? How pathetic she is.” The group sneered and laughed as if they had just corned a prize they hunted. Emerson’s eyes and belly burned.
“And look,” another one said. “She’s shaking.” The crowd of men roared with laughter again.
Emerson smiled. Slowly she let her grin expand across her lips. She felt wild and free, as if she knew a secret that none of them knew and were about to learn in a way that they would never forget. She let her body shake and her light flood into every part of her. It grew brighter with every second, making her glow with such force that the men had to shield their eyes with their arms. Like the blazing, burning sun, they could barely stand to look at her but they were so fascinated and stunned by her that they couldn’t look away either.
The light soothed the pain in the back of her head. Firmly holding the box handles in her two hands, she rose to her feet in one swift action. Standing at her full, though petite, height she walked toward the men. Now that they shook with fear, some falling to the ground, some hiding and cowering behind one another, the group parted neatly down the middle and Emerson walked straight threw the clearing the men had made with their machetes just moments before.
You see the jungle is a dark and dangerous place. It’s stuffed with mystery. It’s laced with fear for those who don’t understand it. But for those who realize and cherish its magic, the jungle possesses a wisdom that speaks directly to our souls. It holds treasures richer than we have ever dared to dream. As Emerson walked out into what was left of the light from the setting sun, she knew what she had, she understood the power of the treasure she now held in her hands.
How are you doing? This week was a heavy one. I hope you’re taking good care of yourselves and each other.
Whenever I feel like reality is too heavy and I need a break, I turn to fiction. This passage was particularly powerful for me:
Harry: I’ve been thinking about something Dumbledore said to me.
Hermione: What’s that?
Harry: That even though we got a fight ahead of us, we’ve got one thing Voldemort doesn’t.
Ron: Yeah?
Harry: Something worth fighting for
We don’t always know what’s around the bend in our stories. What can we do? Stay open. Stay curious. Stay committed to building a better world through writing your story. Keep learning. Opportunities to do well and do good are everywhere. Find them.
“I’m not an outliner or someone who free writes. I’m more of a gardener. I plant seeds and I see what grows. I plant pumpkins and I expect a pumpkin. But if I get a tomato, I’ll figure out what to do with that. That’s how I write. I love that magic moment when something happens on the page we’re writing that we didn’t know was going to happen. I get to be the first reader of my work, and it’s very exciting. And quite frankly that magic doesn’t happen often enough. A lot of writing is just laying brick.” ~Neil Gaiman, International Literary Festival in Dublin, May 2018
By an amazing stroke of luck, Neil Gaiman was speaking as the headliner at the International Literary Festival in Dublin while I was there doing research for my next novel this week. He’s one of my favorite writers, an inspiration for my own work, and to see him in person was thrilling.
Of all the beautiful advice he offered (and you can see my tweets from his talk here: https://twitter.com/i/moments/1002678622765887488), this quote above is the one that affected me the most because it made me change the way I think about my own writing.
I’m a planner. If I were to self-analyze, I would say I like plans because I grew up with a lot of instability. I like order and organization of my tasks because I like to know what I’m doing and where I’m going, and I absolutely hate wasting time because I know what a precious and finite a resource time is. I can’t imagine a world in which I completely let that go. However, Neil Gaiman made me realize that maybe, perhaps, I can loosen the reins a bit. I certainly allow for new information and imagination in my writing. I’ve absolutely had moments where new characters and circumstances and obstacles show up that I never saw coming. That’s the fun, the magic, of writing.
But maybe I don’t need the next bit figured out before I sit down to write every single time. It’s at least worth trying, and giving something a try is where everything begins.
I’m off to Ireland today to do research for my second book in the Emerson Page series. When I booked the trip, I didn’t know that one of the most historic votes on human rights would happen during my trip. I also didn’t know that the Dublin Literary Festival was happening while I was there. These are synchronous events where I will meet so many people and be able to bear witness to subjects and issues that mean so much to me.
I’ll be doing some on-the-ground reporting, and sharing pictures, encounters, learnings, and experiences. You can find those on Instagram at https://instagram.com/christarosenyc and Twitter at https://twitter.com/christanyc. See you there!
“I feel, almost physically, the gravitation of the books, the enveloping serenity of order, time magically desiccated and preserved.” ~Jorge Luis Borges
Have you ever felt drawn to a book? You couldn’t help but take it from the shelf and turn its pages, learning one more secret at a time. What was that book, and did it live up to your hopes for it when you first met?
For me that book was and always will be Alice in Wonderland. I fell down that rabbit hole many years ago, and I’ve never been quite the same since. That book started my fascination with stories and lives that are hidden from plain sight, deep underground, that you must be lucky enough to stumble into in order to know them. The adventure, the justice, and the bravery of that story has stuck with me all these years. Alice has become as real to me as anyone I know in the ordinary world. And for that, I’m so grateful.
In two weeks, I’m going to Dublin to do research for my second Emerson Page novel. As a gift to Ireland, I’m leaving silver charms with the quote, “She believed she could so she did”, and rose gold keys in all the different places I visit for people to find. I’ll tuck them away in museums, gardens, historic sites, bookstores, libraries, and pubs I visit in Dublin and on excursions I’m taking in Northern Ireland to Newgrange, Hill of Tara, Giant’s Causeway, Dark Hedges, the ruins of Dunluce Castle, and on the Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge. I can’t wait to see who finds them. They are a perfect token of Emerson’s spirit. And after all she’s given me, I wanted to return the favor to the world. Happy hunting, Ireland!
The Harry Potter and the Sacred Text podcast has been improving my life from the moment I set ears on it. There are so many life lessons and conversations starters about our society throughout the Harry Potter books and this podcast explores ALL of them with two fantastically intelligent, thoughtful, compassionate, and hilarious hosts. Thank you, thank you, thank you to Vanessa, Casper, Adriana, and Julia for the wonder and gift that is this podcast. I’m so grateful and can’t wait for them to do another live show from New York City!
Writers, when we think about the depth of our stories and the work it takes to create this depth, a podcast like this shows just why that work is so worthwhile. Books are a lens through which to look at our lives, the world, and our place in it. It’s a hefty responsibility and an honor to be able to impact people in a positive way through our art. It’s the very best part of being a writer.
Getting into libraries can be a conundrum for authors. That’s why I’m so grateful to my friend and reader, Shakti, for going to bat for me at the Arlington Public Library in Virginia. Shakti sent an email to them before my book, Emerson Page and Where the Light Enters, was even published (isn’t she wonderful?!)
To their credit, they wrote her a note and said that in order to be considered, the book needed to be available through one of their vendors and had to have favorable reviews in one of the professional review journals that their selectors use to make decisions about what to purchase.
Yesterday, they wrote Shakti again and said, “The book is now available from our book vendor and has a positive review from a review journal (Kirkus, 4/1/18) so we will add it to our next order.”
I’m absolutely thrilled to hear this news and immensely grateful to Shakti and the Arlington Public Library. Now I need to get to work contacting every library in the country. Be right back…
Christa Avampato 