Tuesday, December 18, 2012

The next big thing

My answers for #thenextbigthing
Q: What is your working title of your book (or story)? The Elementals #theelementals
Q: Where did the idea come from for the book? I’ve been writing it in my mind and in bits and pieces for so long that I can’t remember. I was inspired by the story of Tam Lin, by Patrick Harpur’s THE PHILOSOPHER’S SECRET FIRE, by Keats and Yeats.
Q: What genre does your book fall under? Adult fiction but it is quickly gaining an older young adult audience. It also has elements of urban fantasy and murder mystery.
Q: Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition? A young Charlotte Gainsbourg for Ariel. A young Joseph Gordon-Levitt for John.
Q: What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book? Ariel Silverman is a freshman at U Berkeley investigating the disappearance of her best friend when she falls into the secret world of three beautiful and mysterious strangers.

Q: Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency? It is published by St. Martin’s Press and my agent is Laurie Liss from Sterling Lord Literistic.
Q: How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?
About nine months and then I revised it a lot.
Q: What other books would you compare this story to within your genre? THE LOVELY BONES by Alice Sebold. THE SECRET HISTORY by Donna Tartt. IN THE WOOD by Tana French. At least these were all inspirations.
Q: Who or what inspired you to write this book? My mother. The Faerie Queen. The death of a girl I knew as a child.
Q: What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest? I started the story about a young woman whose mother has cancer a few months before my mom found out she had cancer. I finished it sitting on the floor in the doorway of the room where my mother died. She told me “Everything is going to be a fine,” held my hand and looked into my eyes and then she smiled.

Saturday, December 15, 2012


later after we have unwrapped the raffia
poured the rose quartz colored himalayan
salt into the bathwater
eaten the last roses
and laid ourselves down in the white eyelet linens
left from my mother
then i will tell you how this one night in december i yearned for you more than any other moment
in these last fifty years
because at that time i had (finally) ceased to believe you would ever come
and the children from connecticut
they had been shot
and everyone was grieving
like it was the end of the world
which i think it was
and you will say
yes, yes, i remember that night too
i had stopped looking for you
i didn't tell anyone but i had given up
in some profound way
all those little children

but now you are nowhere
and i think of all those little children
won't let mine from my sight
the dark hedge along the path to school is full of armed zombies
and the bridge crosses sulfur water strewn with bones

once in newtown in the summer i spent all day in my aunt's meadow
wearing a pink and white frock
so lonely
waiting for something
rubbing clover leaves together to see if i could make one with four leaves
to ward off the danger of our lives