I tell wonder-filled stories about hope and healing
Colony Club, a local coffee shop, is the place I will always remember as the setting where Emerson Page – Where the Light Enters stepped into her light. I just met with my publisher for 2 hours and couldn’t be more excited about the launch of my book this Fall. We’re on our way. More details soon!
When I started the Breaking Bread Podcast, I had the idea to invite people over to my home, cook their favorite meal, and talk about the issues that are important to them. While that mission seems simple, it’s operationally more difficult than I anticipated. Booking guests is a time intensive job and it costs a good chunk of money. Also, audio editing is a bear and I don’t enjoy it. I like writing and live storytelling, and I want to do a podcast that’s an extension of those two things that also lets me be creative in new and different ways.
I spent a fair amount of time over my holiday break thinking about what to do with the Breaking Bread Podcast. I also spent a fair amount of time reading and talking to people about the election and Trump and what a complete sh*t-show we’re facing come January 20th. And a few things started to come together for me: truth reaches more people when it’s dressed as satire and comedy, world-building is a fun, creative activity (some of my favorite stories are The Wizard of Oz, Alice in Wonderland, Harry Potter, and Welcome to Night Vale), and Trump is insane so I’m going to use his own words as material.
Here’s my premise: Mina Montgomery accidentally falls through a hidden portal at the corner of Constitution Avenue and 1st Street NE on the afternoon of November 8, 2016 and finds herself in a strange parallel universe known as Trumpville. Built by Trump himself, it is an idealized version of the world as he would design it and it’s populated by people faithful to his point-of-view. Or so it appears. Every day, there is a press conference delivered by Trump to the citizens of Trumpville that tells them how it’s all going “above ground”. To her horror, Mina learns that Trump won the presidential election on the day she fell through the portal. She thinks she’s alone in this mad, a*s-backwards world, but she’s not. What she needs to do is find her people, and together they will find a way out. Trapped in Trumpville for the forseeable future, she opens a bakery in Trumpville called Breaking Bread in an attempt to bring people together. In the episodes of the Breaking Bread Podcast, Mina processes her thoughts as a living diary of sorts in order to maintain some semblance of sanity while she figures out how to get everyone out of Trumpville and back to civilization.
Similar to a Trump presidency, I have no idea how this new podcast idea will play out. Who knows what he’ll do next? He’s leaving us in suspense, remember? My game plan is to speak out again, and again, and again because I care about this country and the people who live here, and to find and support people who need a friend during this wild ride. I remember the Bush years and they were brutal. My greatest hope for this podcast idea is that it will be a port in the storm where together we can ride out the mayhem while we try to right the ship.
I first read the essay “Winter” by Nina Zolotow in Rodney Yee’s book Yoga: The Poetry of the Body in 2002. Since then, it’s something I’ve re-read dozens of times. May it bring you the same peace and relaxation it gives me in this long, cold, dark, and restful season of winter. Rest, my loves, and be glad.
“In their garden there was always a wild profusion of tomatoes ripening on the vine, and leafy basil, arugula, and lettuce, and glossy purple eggplants, and red and yellow peppers, and zucchini with its long, bright blossoms, and there was always lunch at the wooden table on hot summer afternoons, with plates of pasta and bread and olives and salads with herbs, and many bottles of red wine that made you feel warm and drowsy, while bees hummed and the sprawling marjoram, thyme, and rosemary gave off their pungent fragrances, and at the end of the meal, always, inexplicably, there were fresh black figs that they picked themselves from the tree at the garden’s center, an eighteen-foot fig tree, for how was it possible – this was not Tuscany but Ithaca – Ithaca, New York, a rough-hewn landscape of deep rocky gorges and bitter icy winters, and I finally had to ask him – my neighbor – how did that beautiful tree live through the year, how did it endure the harshness of a New York winter and not only survive until spring but continue producing the miraculous fruit, year after year, and he told me that it was quite simple, really, that every fall, after the tree lost all its leaves, he would sever the tree’s roots on one side only and, on the tree’s other side, he would dig a trench, and then he would just lay down that flexible trunk and limbs, lay them down in the earth and gently cover them with soil, and there the fig tree would rest, warm and protected, until spring came, when he could remove its protective covering and stand the tree up once again to greet the sun; and now in this long gray season of darkness and cold and grief (do I have to tell you over what? for isn’t it always the same – the loss of a lover, the death of a child, or the incomprehensible cruelty of one human being to another?), as I gaze out of my window at the empty space where the fig tree will stand again next spring, I think, yes, lay me down like that, lay me down like the fig tree that sleeps in the earth, and let my body rest easily on the ground – my roots connecting me to some warm immutable center – luxuriating in the heart of winter.” ~Nina Zolotow, “Winter”
Art is endlessly generous: if we rescue it, then it will rescue us. In dark and troubling times, it’s easy and understandable to be consumed by sadness and despair. What’s more difficult, and ultimately more valuable, is to be a light to ourselves and to others. The husband and wife who wrote the beloved books about Curious George smuggled him out of Nazi-occupied France on two homemade bicycles made in the 11th hour of their escape. George’s narrow escape from a variety of curious and mischievous adventures, often by bicycle, is in no small part a colorful corollary to the flight of his authors. Karen Blixen once said that all sorrows can be borne if you put them into a story. It’s true of George and it’s true of us. We can create our way to a better tomorrow.
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.” ~Theodore Roosevelt
As a writer and an artist, I get rejected every day in one form or another because that’s what happens when you put your work out into the world every day. Critics are everywhere. I am still inspired to keep going because I create the work I want to read. I write the stories I most wanted to believe in, and that belief is a shield and a sword against any rejection. All artists in every medium need that belief.
If you’re struggling now to get your work out into the world or dealing with rejection on any level, keep these words from Theodore Roosevelt close to your heart. They help me keep my head up and my fingers tapping on the keys.
“There’s only one way to write a book: one word at a time.” ~R. Edward Freeman
It took me two years to write my book, Where the Light Enters. Books have a long life, in their creation and, hopefully, in the hearts and minds of readers. Two years can feel like a long time to work on one single project. Even at my most frustrated times, I was determined to push through and finish. During that process, I often thought about my professor, mentor, and friend, Ed Freeman, the author of many books that have influenced how I see the world and my role in it, as a writer and as a business person. In every moment, all I had to do was write the next word. That mantra helped me keep going.
You might be in the middle of a project now. Maybe you’ve been working on it for a long time. Maybe you feel like you’re spinning in circle, going nowhere fast. These are the times that require more attention, not less. These are times when we must double down, not run away. I know it’s tempting to chase the next new thing. I know the exhilaration born of a new start and a blank page. Don’t quit now. Don’t throw in the towel. Resist the urge to run. Sit. Breathe. And see what happens. Let your drive to tell a story as honestly and clearly as possible be greater than your fear of falling short. Just take it one word as a time.
So excited to share this podcast episode that I did with the Lit to Lens podcast team about my book, Where the Light Enters.
“Podcast Season 1, Episode 4 – SPECIAL EDITION: Interview with author Christa Avampato”
Hello there LTLiens,
This post is a bit late, but exciting nonetheless. In case you aren’t up to date, about a month ago we interviewed the author Christa Avampato about her debut novel Where the Light Enters.
The novel is about a young teenage girl, who goes by the name Emerson Page, living in New York city on a mission to find out who killed her mother. The young adult genre novel covers everything from magical libraries, the power of manipulating light, to the struggles of growing up without a mother.
In the interview Christa covers everything from how she became such an avid writer, who inspires her, to what it’s like trying to get your first novel published and pushed out to the real world.
Take a moment to listen to Christa tell her exciting story.
Listen here, or subscribe to us on iTunes.
L2L
*We will provide updates to this post once more good news is heard…fingers crossed!
Source: Podcast Season 1, Episode 4 – SPECIAL EDITION: Interview with author Christa Avampato
I’ve been working on a paper collage – my largest piece yet – that depicts the story of my book, Where the Light Enters. I spent yesterday immersed in tiny bits of colorful paper while binge watching This Is Us. Sometimes the best thing we can do for our writing is to make it visual for ourselves and for the world to see. Now when I’m busily writing, editing, and revising Emerson’s story, this collage will be there pushing me forward.
The first economic casualty of this election found me yesterday. My favorite staff member in my apartment building told me that my landlord is outsourcing the staffing of the building in preparation for a recession that they think will hit in the coming months. The staff is being offered the chance to interview for the outsourced company, though there is no guarantee of a job and even if they do get a job, their pay will be cut and their housing subsidy will be taken away.
“Even if I get the job, they’re going to cut my pay by $3.50/hour,” he said to me. “And that’s going to hurt a lot. My last day could be November 30th if I don’t get this job. I was wondering if you could do me a favor, Christa. Would you write a recommendation letter for me that I could bring to the interview?”
My eyes teared up. This man has been a good friend to me, and really makes my building feel like home. He’s professional, kind, and caring. He loves his job and the people who live in my building. I’d pay double my rent to help him and the rest of the staff who do such a wonderful job helping all of us. I was prepared to take out my checkbook right there, and instead what he asked for was a letter. $3.50/hour is a lot to him; it makes the difference between being able to pay his bills and not being able to pay his bills. Let that sink in. He lives in D.C., a very expensive city, and makes less than $35,000/year before taxes, and that could drop to $27,000/year. That’s what he’s fighting for. That’s what he’d be grateful to get. This is the working poor. Right. Next. Door.
The President-elect, ensconced in his 3-story, 24K gold penthouse on Fifth Avenue, doesn’t care a lick about people like my friend. But you know what? I care. I can do something, and I will. I wrote my heart out in that reference letter for my friend. I’ll be writing a lot of letters in the coming days, weeks, and months. I’m not going to standby and watch our economy and our country go to hell in a hand-basket at the hands of an inexperienced madman and his cabinet of ignorants. Deplorable? Yes. Unstoppable? No.
National Novel Writing Month starts today! I did this two years ago and it helped me write the first draft of my book, Where the Light Enters, in 30 days. This year, I’m adding further refinements to that book, and working on the outline for the 2nd book in the series. Excited for this next 30 days of writing, creativity, and connecting with other D.C.-based writers through meetups and write-ins.
Christa Avampato 