Finishing the Book

 "Finish your story, let go even if it's not perfect. In an ideal world you have both,
but move on. Do better next time." ~Emma Coats of Pixar~

I've always loved the song "Finishing the Hat" from Sunday in the Park With George. I understand the artist's compulsion to make it as perfect as possible and his drive for completion. My issue is that once the book is finished, I experience a whole raft of emotions—some terrific, others not so.

We finally completed our latest book The Memory Keeper, a historical novel set in San Juan Capistrano between 1820 and 1890. Our protagonist (and the title character) is a Juaneño Indian. We've spent the last two-plus years with him. During that time, we've grown to love him and his family as well as the city of San Juan Capistrano itself and its historic mission.

 Larry has done most of the research. The completed book will contain pages and pages of bibliography. Pamela Hallen-Gibson, the official historian of San Juan, was our first beta reader. We sent her Chapters One through Three over a year ago. She provided a number of great suggestions.

Jacque Nunez, herself a descendent of the Juaneños, local school teacher, and storyteller, spent hours with us describing the native lifestyle. She provided some vocabulary which added a great deal of depth to the story.

Several others, including the Lagunita Writers Group, read and critiqued the chapters. At this point we feel the book will be ready to submit as soon as we run the final chapters by the group on Monday night, incorporate their final suggestions, and send the completed manuscript back to our beta readers for final comments.

Once that is done, the withdrawal will begin. Having lived intimately with these characters for so long, and loving them as if they were family, letting them go will be hard. Since they won't be back again with other stories, I feel like the parents of the early pioneers must have felt as they watched their children disappear over the horizon knowing they would not be back. Losing these precious beings feels a bit like a death, and we are starting to mourn them.

Of course, we are excited to start sending out queries and to work with a publisher. We can't wait to actually see the book in print and listed on Amazon. We look forward to sharing this very special story with others, particularly those who also know and love San Juan.

Fortunately, I have three or four other projects waiting to be started or completed. One of them has been annoying Larry since it hasn't gotten my attention, so perhaps we will do that one together.

We're not finished writing, but we need to go through the process of allowing this one to find its way before we begin again. It's a bit like handing your teenager the car keys for the first time and letting them drive onto the street and out of sight. Once the book is submitted, it is no longer a work-in-progress. It is finished and needs to find its own audience.

Meanwhile, we'll continue to visit San Juan and remember what it was like in the nineteenth century when our characters 'lived' there.

Do other authors share these feelings?

The Next Big Thing Blog Hop

Today I’m on the Blog Hop: The Next Big Thing. 

The last blogger was Marilyn Meredith. After you’ve read this post, hop on over to her blog where she answered the very same questions: http://marilynmeredith.blogspot.com/ 

 

Ten Interview Questions for The Next Big Thing:

What is the working title of your book?

Our latest book is an historical novel based in San Juan Capistrano between the years of 1820 and 1890, entitled The Memory Keeper.

Where did the idea come from for the book?

Larry and I both had read Molokai and Honolulu and loved them. Larry said, “Why don’t we write something similar about San Juan Capistrano. It has such great history. So we began doing research. The more we discovered, the more we became excited about the book.

What genre does your book fall under?

This one will be an historical novel. We keep exploring different genres (nonfiction, sweet romance, mystery, fantasy). I guess we’re just easily bored!

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

Since our characters are Juaneño Indians, maybe A. Martinez as the adult Tomas with Sacheen Littlefeather as his mother. Since the book takes place over so many years, we’d need actors of various ages. We’d need Hispanic and American actors as well.

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

Tomas Romero recounts the events of his life as a Juaneño Indian from his birth in 1820 through his seventieth year.

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

It will probably not be self-published, but it might be published by an indie publisher.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

We’re still working on it and anticipate it will take about two years to complete because of all the required research.

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

We hope it will compare well with Molokai and Honolulu, two of our favorites.

Who or What inspired you to write this book?

We live in Dana Point, CA, right next door to San Juan Capistrano. We know several descendants of the Juaneños. Their history has fascinated us for some time, and we now think we’ve found a good vehicle for recording it in an interesting way.

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

It is the history of the area, told from the point-of-view of a native. It also includes all the various changes that occurred to the mission during the Spanish, Mexican and finally American administrations. We’ve tried to capture the real emotions of the actual people who lived during this turbulent era.

Learn more about Lorna on her website: http://www.lornalarry.com. 

Sharing Memories

Our new book, The Memory Keeper, begins, “In the end, only memories remain.”

This came home to us dramatically during the past couple of weeks.

A week ago Saturday, we attended Larry’s fiftieth high school reunion, where we saw many former schoolmates and renewed friendships. Since we grew up in the same neighborhood, and I attended the same school, graduating two years behind Larry, I also knew many of those in attendance.

Some people had changed; others hadn’t. But we all had shared life experiences. The economic and cultural differences in our childhoods seem to have disappeared along with the years. We found that what we shared was far more valuable than what we didn’t. And most of us still remembered how to sing the alma mater—which we did.

One of the folks had put together a short video with photos of the classmates we’d lost over the years, and our mutual sadness and sense of loss filled the room. At the same time, we also shared our gratitude for having known them.

That same sentiment recurred this week when we attended the celebration of the life of my former sister-in-law, Sheila, who died last week.

The event was held at her sister’s home with the entire family present. Since we’d all grown up in the same neighborhood and attended school together, there were few strangers.

When our kids were little, Sheila and I had been quite close, and Kim had been even closer to her auntie. So we felt a genuine loss at her passing.

The remarkable thing was that the three sisters (Sheila, her twin, Sharon, and their older sister, Sue) had all been married twice. And two of the three ex-husbands came. As one told me, “I’m still a member of this family. In fact, my ex-wife and I are better friends now than we’ve ever been.” That says a lot about the love that surrounded everyone.

Our nephew-in-law had put together a slide show of photos of the girls throughout their lives. It played all day. We enjoyed seeing everyone as children. Because the three girls were close in age, we’d thought they were triplets when they were small. They were all about the same size and dressed alike. In fact, their mother told us she often referred to them as ‘the triplets.’

We attended the event primarily to support our niece and nephew. We had a chance to talk to each one of them and were very pleased to hear that they’d been able to spend some quality time with their mom at the end, bringing closure to some childhood issues. We had certainly prayed for that, and our prayers seem to have been answered.

Many of those present had attended our high school, so we heard stories of mutually-shared experiences. Many conversations began, “Remember when…” And we did.

One of the couples looked familiar to us, but we couldn’t place exactly who they were. They finally approached us with the same question. It turns out that he is the brother of Sue’s husband, and he and Larry were in the same class. They had been at the reunion the week before, but we were seated inside and they were outside. We’d probably passed each other several times during the night, but we weren’t able to talk. On Saturday, we did.

Seated at the same table with us at the reunion was a woman who was the girls’ first cousin. Although our hometown of Alhambra, California wasn’t terribly small, our housing tract was. Most of the families bought their homes when the tract was first built, and the majority of them had small children. We’ve always referred to it as an extended family because we all knew each other.

This cousin’s sister had been in my grade, and she was in Larry’s. I said, “I guess you’ve heard about Sheila.”

She gave me a questioning look and answered, “No. What about her?”

At that point, Sheila was in a coma from which she did not emerge. I felt badly about breaking the news at this occasion, but I also felt she should know.

We then learned that the families had been estranged for many years following the death of the girls’ grandmother. The cousin, however, was deeply shaken to discover that Sheila was near death.

She took the initiative and called her cousin Sue. They have agreed to remain in touch and to get together soon.

On Saturday, Sue told me that she’d talked to her mother about her cousin’s call. Sue said she’d like to invite her cousin to come for a visit and that she’d like for her mother to be there.

Her mother’s surprising response was, “That would be very nice.”

So I expect that soon that the family will be sharing more memories and, hopefully, some much-needed healing.

In the end, only memories remain. And we all ought to be grateful that we’re still here to share them.