Two weeks ago I started my own blog, Becoming GVR, and I blogged every day for a week. Then, I posted my The Next Big Thing Blog Hop interview. After a week of leaving that post up, I am back in the blogging saddle. So, what went on during that quiet week?
My number of book sales more than doubled, which is a way cool feeling! I set up my author page on Amazon. I made more connections in the world of publishing, books, and writers. I relaxed for 25 minutes in a row and finished that Father Brown episode. I commissioned the modification of my advertising bookcards and ordered 500 to be printed. I approved the initial sketches of some artwork I’ve commissioned for my website. I made sure all my ducks are in a row for the OCC book signing this weekend. I worked my other two jobs.
Something else that happened was this: one of the two movies I saw in the theatre last year, Argo, won the Oscar for best picture. I love the subtlety and understated tension of Argo as it unfolds an incredibly intense story. As I watched it, I was on the verge of tears and on the edge of my seat for the entire film.
But here’s the thing – if I chose to see only two films in the theatre last year, why Argo?
Simple. The Iranian Hostage Crisis is the first real piece of history I can remember in my lifetime. Those “Free the Hostages” stickers that looked like American flags were everywhere in my young world – on school book covers, on cars, on toilet seats. I was horrified by the duration of the terrifying ordeal – nearly one whole half of my life that I could clearly remember since infancy and toddlerhood. One of the hostages was from my hometown – he went to the same high school my nephew now attends. As a result, I think of Argo as my movie – because I have such a personal and visceral connection to it.
Argo is mine. And I doubt I am the only one who feels this way.
These feelings of connection, possession, deeply understood truth, shared history – these are precisely what I strive to evoke in readers with my books and stories. For example, this is one of my favorite lines from She Likes It Rough:
How long would it be before everyone in my family stopped judging me according to the stupid things I’d done as a kid? Wasn’t there any statute of limitations on growing up?
And by the way, the other movie I saw in the theatre last year is The Avengers, the biggest money maker of the year. Something else I strive for when I write my books.
A Slice of Orange started in 2004 as a group of authors from Orange County, California. We have expanded to include authors from around the globe–from the UK, all across the US to New Zealand. Our authors include the multi-published and writers at the beginning of their publishing career. In addition to authors, we feature blog posts from editors, PR professionals, and cover designers.
The bright segments of the writing and reading community that make up one perfect entity—A Slice of Orange.
A Slice of Orange started in 2004 as a group of authors from Orange County, California. We have expanded to include authors from around the globe–from the UK, all across the US to New Zealand. Our authors include the multi-published and writers at the beginning of their publishing career. In addition to authors, we feature blog posts from editors, PR professionals, and cover designers.
The bright segments of the writing and reading community that make up one perfect entity—A Slice of Orange.
In two days, June 19th, Simon and Schuster/Touchstone will release Dog on the Roof: On the Road with Mitt and the Mutt by political satirists Bruce Kluger and David Slavin.
Bruce, my friend and sensei of sorts, snuck me a few pages of the book, and I have to say, I laughed my butt off. The verse, the pictures, the wit…and the dog! Seamus, with his spot-on observations and yearnings, will jump on you with both paws, lick you in the face, and have you laughing uncontrollably.
But even more amazing than the book itself is the galvanizing story of its whirlwind creation. In January, Bruce and his writing partner, David Slavin, both regular contributers to NPR’s AllThings Considered, decided to write a satirical book designed to come out during the height of the presidential campaign season. But they wanted to do it right. I mean, really right. So, as if the goddess Nike were their muse, they just…did it. No fussing, no fretting. They just got to work.
They pulled a few bestselling satirical books off the shelf to study all the components that made them hits — from length to format to illustrations. Then they buckled down and wrote their sharp and clever fuax children’s book that gets its humor from a universally felt truth. Dog on the Roof’s truth? It sucks to be strapped to the roof of a car! That’s moving!
Dog on the Roof‘s deeper truth for us writers? If you want it, just do it. Mmmruh!
So, I decided to do it. Publish my own book, that is. No more acting like a dog on the roof for me, waiting for someone else (such as an agent or publisher) to set me free, give me what I need, and make me happy. Thanks to the trailblazing bravery of so many OCC authors, I am self publishing my humorous women’s fiction novel She Likes It Rough this summer. Can wild outdoor adventures with an adrenaline junkie give an insecure city girl the backbone she needs in order to make her humdrum life count for something? We’ll soon see.
A Slice of Orange started in 2004 as a group of authors from Orange County, California. We have expanded to include authors from around the globe–from the UK, all across the US to New Zealand. Our authors include the multi-published and writers at the beginning of their publishing career. In addition to authors, we feature blog posts from editors, PR professionals, and cover designers.
The bright segments of the writing and reading community that make up one perfect entity—A Slice of Orange.
A Slice of Orange started in 2004 as a group of authors from Orange County, California. We have expanded to include authors from around the globe–from the UK, all across the US to New Zealand. Our authors include the multi-published and writers at the beginning of their publishing career. In addition to authors, we feature blog posts from editors, PR professionals, and cover designers.
The bright segments of the writing and reading community that make up one perfect entity—A Slice of Orange.
I never watched The Monkees, not even one episode. Ever. But on the evening of February 29, a weird thing happened to me. I was driving when the radio announced the sudden death of Davy Jones. The Monkee, I knew that much. Huh, he died? Then NPR played a snippet of one of his songs, and this voice, so young, so adorable, wafted through my dark car. Suddenly, I was choked with tears. The man behind this fresh young voice, clear as bell, was gone?
That night, curious about my own largely unaccountable grief, I went to the computer and started looking some things up. First, the lyrics to “Daydream Believer,” the tune of which I couldn’t get out of my head.
It’s about a couple.
Composer John Stewart (of Kingston Trio fame) weaves dreamy metaphor into achingly familiar concrete detail to tell a beautiful love story: after the initial surge of romance ebbs and the tedium of life sets in, what you have left, when you’re with the right person, is everyday happiness.
Mmmruh!
Since the song got to me so much, I clicked on the Monkees video. And gosh I just fell head over heels in love with Davy Jones, the cute scamp singing about true love and core-deep contentment. His effortless exuberance makes me feel giddy and warm and fuzzy about the love in my life. He reminds me that bills to pay and other annoying obligations can hardly wear down daydream believers such as myself and my white knight. And I could see what his impish performance could do to a young woman: this adorable singer makes each girl listening believe that she could be The One in his life to bring him sweet joy despite anything, no matter what. He cracks open the possibility that such love is possible in anyone’s life.
That’s the essence of an idol: an idol lets you touch the magic – the magic within your own life, within your own soul. Kudos, Davy Jones.
Like moonbeams and the distant echo of a train whistle, idols possess the uncanny ability to make us go mmmruh. How do they do it? Not really sure. But I like the way it feels, this tapping of my deepest emotions.
The essence of an idol – if only we could package it, to take out and savor, again and again, whenever we wanted! But wait – it has been packaged, countless times. Just find that dog-eared copy of your favorite romance novel, and you’ll know what I mean.
-Geralyn Ruane
Lifelong believer in daydreams and idolizer of heartthrobs since 1977.