Holding up the lightening rod

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I met with Dan Smetanka last night in LA, a brilliant editor who worked with me (along with my other editors) on Mistress of the Sun. Dan is the type of editor who reaches into your bowels and yanks out your stuff. Sorry to be so graphic, but he's not a polish type of guy (although he does that, too). He's the big picture, the gritty picture, a guts-of-the-matter guy. Working with him was like working with a master.

We talked about The Next Novel. I confessed I was at a loss. For both Mistress and Josephine B., I felt I'd been hit by lightening: the message was clear. Now, I have interests, certainly, but I haven't exactly been zapped. He advised me to give myself time, to rest, dream, hold up that lightening rod. Yes.

So this morning, Caroline Leavitte's blog post on her own Next Book spoke to me clearly: What's that novel about again? She writes:

It's hard to know what your new novel is about until after you've finished it, at least it is for me.

I feel like I'm treading water and there are sharks all around. And they're hungry.

It's possible to just wade in, but Mistress took eight years, and this time I'd like more of an idea of what the novel is about before I begin writing it. In the meantime, I'm treading water, holding up that lightening rod with a wary eye on the circling sharks.

600 steps

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I'm in L.A., in the swank Beverley Meridian at Rodeo and Wilshire Drives ("the center of glamour and grandeur in Beverly Hills"): everything costs ... lots. I'm not paying, but it irks me to sign a $38.62 bill for a simple continental breakfast with stale croissants. It's 5:00 in the morning, and there's no coffee pot in the room. I'm a captive to expensive room service.

I've learned a few things on this trip:

The Denver airport is one of the largest in the U.S., the size of Manhattan. The line to get to the first stage of security was 600 steps.

The Hotel Monaco chains are great: ecologically sensitive, designed for comfort. In Seattle, there was wine plus a free Tarot card reading in the hotel lobby at 5:00: so west coast.

The Trump Tower hotel in Chicago was the best hotel I've ever stayed at in my life: it sets a new standard for comfort. (Not only Starbucks coffee makings, but a fully-equipped kitchen.)

In La Jolla, north of San Diego, the La Valencia hotel was a treat. My room -- #922 — must have been one of the best in the hotel, a corner room overlooking ocean on both sides. A complimentary fruit basket and bottle of Merlot on arrival, lovely restaurants and shoping close-by (not to mention the ocean) — I could have stayed there a week. The most welcome thing was to be able to open the doors onto the balcony, hear ocean and gulls, feel fresh air. I've come to miss that, living in hotel rooms.

This was the view from my hotel room in La Jolla:



One nice thing about my suite here in L.A. is that it opens onto a roof terrace. (Should security concern me?) I'm going to stop complaining about the expensive coffee and stale croissants and simply enjoy it. I've the day off, and I intend to spend it creatively.

A long day

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Saturday was a long and challenging day, but the excellent co-ordination of my escorts — Larry and Ken — made it effortless. It began in La Jolla, checking out of my hotel in gown.



Then, to the La Jolla Arts Festival, where Warwick's bookstore had a booth set up. They'd never tried this, and I was their first test case. As always, it only takes one ardent fan to make an event worthwhile for me. (Too, meeting a man who lovingly restores and then sells antique cars, and uses the money to take a family off the street — to save them — three families so far. So moving.)

I changed out of my gown in a Whole Foods washroom, and then my escort Larry and I headed north. After about an hour, at a Barnes and Noble between La Jolla and Thousand Oaks, I was "handed over" to escort Ken. Then began the long drive to Thousand Oaks, for an event at an extraordinary Borders, a bookstore and coffee shop/restaurant in a former bowling alley.



There — hugables! — sister Robin, Betsy and Betsy's mom Alma.




And "Ladies of The Book Club" (Pam Clark, Shari Mark, and Brenda Alibrandi sitting, Barbara Schwartz and Dawn Drost standing):



It was a wonderful event, in large measure due to the vibrancy and energy of the wonderful staff and great food:



And then the drive to glamorous Beverley Wilshire hotel in the heart of LA, where they did not have a room, so I had to "make do" with a large and sunny suite. I'm in LA for three nights: time enough to have The Gown sent to the laundry and to recharge all the batteries, including my own.

There is always weather

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I'm in lovely Seattle now — such a beautiful city. They've had non-stop overcast skies and rain for weeks (months!), I'm told, and my event fell on the second day of sun, so I was surprised, and pleased, that some people came out to my reading.

One thing I've learned: when it comes to book events, there is always weather. It will invariably be too hot, too cold, too stormy, too wet or simply too nice for people to go out. (I don't blame them: I'm the same way.) And if it isn't the weather, there's a sports event, a concert, or it's grad night in town. So all the more reason to applaud the fans and friends and family who so loyally and enthusiastically show up ... they make it so worthwhile.

Last night, I had the chance to see San Miguel friend Susan Rushton and her dear mother Ruby. Such a treat! As well, some truly ardent long-time fans. It was wonderful: virtual hugs to all.

Today I fly to San Diego. I've fought off a threatening cold (yay), but suffered my first injury: a wrenched left-hand. Thankfully not my signing hand. Fat Sharpies are excellent ergonomically in that respect: I feel I could sign books forever. In Sharpie fervor, I've now taken to offering readers a selection of colors: hot pink is the run-away favorite.

Room service treats

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The Brown Palace in Denver featured high tea ...



... and a fresh rose with each room service. By the end of my three-day stay I'd aquired a bouquet.

The Bookworm in Edwards, CO

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It was a two-and-a-half hour drive from Denver to Edwards, but well worth it. The Bookworm is one of the best bookstores I've seen, and they really know how to put on an event: great advertising, good wine, exceptionally tasty appetisers.

Okay, this may sound silly, but I discovered the first sign of their savvy advertising in the washroom:



What a perfect place for an ad! It's a universal truth known to all bookstore owners that book browsing and the need to use a washroom are mysteriously yet biologically linked. (Seinfeld confirmed this in a skit.)

It was a great audience. Many of them had already read — and loved! — Mistress of the Sun.



There were 51 in attendance, a number of them from book clubs. Here is another mother/daughter portrait: Therese and her lovely daughter, Rachel.



Another mother told me that she was looking forward to going to Paris with her daughter. They had read the Trilogy and would be tracing Josephine's route. What did I suggest? I recommended that she read Walks through Napoleon & Josephine's Paris by Diana Reid Haig. This is a gorgeous book, recently given to me by a very special person, Janet Park Datema (more on Janet later), in St. Louis. Another good guide I recommend to Trilogy tourists (of whom there are a number!) is You Go Girl Paris. The authors list many Josephine B. sites to see.

All-in-all, a fabulous evening! Thank you, Bookworms all.

Notes to a young writer

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A young Canadian writer's debut has been recently heralded "brilliant." I agree totally! Pasha Malla is a writer of great talent: his short stories, recently published in The Withdrawal Method, are gems. Note his name: you will be hearing it often.

My immediate thought was to congratulate him — which I did — but my second was to send him financial advice.

And that advice (applicable to writers in Canada) is:

1) Incorporate

In Canada, a writer might work for ten years on a book, scrimping to get by. Say that book is published and is an international hit, maybe (dream on, why not?) there's even a movie deal. The author, happily, is hit by a year of big advances. Well ... perhaps not as big as it looks, for the Canadian government, on the faulty assumption that this is a regular annual income, nabs as much as half.

Unfair, right? Right! In other words, in Canada, there is no "income averaging" by which an author can say, "Yes, I made $250,000 this year, but I was earning peanuts while working on that book for 10 years, so really it's more like $25,000."

The only way around this is for a writer to incorporate. There's nothing to be done about a title once out (I'm told), but all as-yet-unpublished works would come under the Writer Inc. umbrella and benefit from income averaging. The Writers' Union of Canada has information available on this (see #3 below).

2) Register titles with Access Copyright Canada.
This costs nothing and brings in a nice cheque in the hundreds every year. What's not to like?

A third bit of advice is more of a pitch:

3) Join the Writers' Union of Canada. TWUC is making great lobbying efforts to get income averaging in Canada for writers as well as a number of other important legislative changes that affect the lives of writers. The more members, the louder the voice. It's worthwhile, but most of all, it's important.

Afternote: author Merilyn Simonds added in a comment: "Great advice Sandra. And don't forget about Public Lending Right. Sign up for PLR and you'll get another tidy cheque once a year to compensate for library use of your books. These programs were both initiated by the Writers' Union — another good reason to join!"

This is sweet

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Ami McKay's blog on the care and feeding of creative Brat Brain.

Not a happy camper

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My personal well-being seems irrevocably tied to my computer, and right now both seem to be crashing. The computer is functioning, but has an intermittently threatening problem that casts a black cloud. Is this my guardian angel suggesting I break this addictive link?

No, that's not a possibility. I'm in this marriage for good, but right now I'm not feeling well-treated.

I'm a Mac Person: I've owned Macs since the first 128 K in 1984. A writer cannot change computers while writing a book: an upgrade has to wait for the book to be finished. For some time I held off upgrading to the new operating system, a new super-deluxe MacBook Pro. Last fall, with Mistress of the Sun finally into production, I made the plunge.

The beautiful computer I purchased did not always function, however. I spent hours on the phone to Apple Care. I took it into the Apple Store Genius Bar in Toronto once, twice, three times. Three times I was told: "fixed."

The third time is the charm: surely. I stuck a "History, I hope" post-it to the Computer Problem file and dared to take the new Pro on the road.

Where was I when that same old problem re-appeared? Boston? Kansas City? Milwaukee? I can't remember now — what I do remember is the depression that descended. Today, in Denver for a few nights, after the problem persisted, I decided to see what I could do. I called Apple Care and was given to believe that a trip to the Denver Apple Store would not be in vain, that I was justified in thinking a replacement computer was in order.

But no — at least not in Denver, and likely not anywhere in the U.S. (Which calls into question this concept of Apple "Care".) It was bought in Canada, I'm reminded by the Genius (who was likely not even born when that 128K Mac was created, I thought meanly). Further, it is a custom computer — and would therefore take many weeks to replace. (Such is the reward for adding RAM.)

And so, I'm left fuming — I love this damn machine, but Apple is letting me down.

Posted from Denver

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"How did you survive the other night?" my Media Escort asks the bookstore owner, and immediately I know. "Let me guess," I say. "David Sedaris?" They groan in happy misery, having been up until 2:00 in the morning for one of his legendarily long book signings. "He's trying to set a world record," someone tells me.

Everywhere I go, it seems, David Sedaris has been there before me. And now I discover that he'll be signing books at Vroman's Bookstore in Pasadena the night before I'm due there. I can see it now, the fatigued bookstore clerks, the empty store that had been crammed with Sedaris fans only hours before. I am the clean-up crew, following in his wake. It's a good thing I'm one of his fans.

I love book clubs

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This book club in St. Louis has read both Josephine B. and Mistress of the Sun. They make a point to have food for a meeting that's related to the book being discussed. They had brunched on crepes discussing Mistress of the Sun, and then came to see me at Barnes & Noble in Ladue, MO. One of the members had been to my reading years before — I'd been wearing my Napoleonic gown for that one. What will be next?

Fireball Carole Wantz

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St. Louis is my epi-center, I swear. There is so much Josephine B. energy there, and it's all because of Carole Wantz, bookseller extraordinaire at Barnes and Noble in Ladue. She has personally hand-sold over 3000 titles!

The views in St. Louis

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On arriving in St. Louis, I was told, "You must go to see the (flooded) river. Imagine: there's a road under there."



I lay on the grass, on benches, twisted every whichway to try to capture the beauty of the arch. Here is my favourite:

The LongPen

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Let's face it: Margaret Atwood was mocked for creating the LongPen. It didn't help that the first Big Event failed. But now it works and I hear it talked about in the U.S. — someone had seen it in an Ann Arbor bookstore, seen A Wolf at the Table being signed by Augustan Burroughs, who was in New York. "A miracle!" They didn't even know that our Margaret Atwood had created it. "And we scoffed," I confessed, but proudly.

Podictionary podcast

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I've started to listen to Charles Hodgson's Podictionary podcast. It's great ... especially for writers. I've added it to my essentials.

The most beautiful library imaginable

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No, I confess I never expected to find the most beautiful library in the world (surely) in Kansas City: The Kansas City Public Library. A former bank, it's been made over into a library with a coffee shop, theater, communtity spaces -- all those things an ideal library should have. The former vault is a video room: how perfect. There's an out-door life-size chess game. I could go on and on.

This is the entry:




















This is looking into the coffee shop area:


The event itself was with me and UK author Rebecca Stott. I'd read about her historical mystery, Ghostwalk, and it was a pleasure to meet her. A great evening.

(Photo below: Rebecca and me with Roger and Vivien from RainyDayBooks.)

Meeting cyber friends -- at last

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Shauna Singh Baldwin and I have known each other for a long time, through email and our writing, but have only met two times. She gave a moving and elegant introduction to my talk in her hometown, Milwaukee (a beautiful city).
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This is her introduction:

"Many of us are familiar with Sandra Gulland's historical fiction from her highly acclaimed, and beautifully-written Josephine Trilogy. In The Many Lives and Secret Sorrows of Josephine published in 1995, Tales of Passion, Tales of Woe, published in 1998, and the Last Great Dance on Earth published in 2000 -- Sandra brought Josephine Bonaparte back to life. And instead of a greedy schemer who two-timed Napoleon, we come to know an intelligent woman making the kind of choices and compromises women make every day, even today. The Josephine B. trilogy, has sold over a million worldwide, is now published in thirteen languages and in fifteen countries.

Eight years after the last book in the Josephine trilogy, Sandra brings to life another French woman obscured and reviled by historians, Louise de la Valliere, mistress of the Sun King. Along the way, we meet Molière and Racine as they perform their dramas for the king, and listen to LaFontaine as he wrote his fables. With Louise, we watch Finance Minister Fouquet's arrogance laid low, and the building of Versailles. Again the court of Louis XIV dazzles us, with the intensity of its joie de vivre and sheer excess. Louise is a superb horsewoman besides being a woman of verve and grace, and her riding and hunting endears her to the king.

To no one's surprise, within a week of its publication in Canada, Mistress of the Sun was on Maclean's national best-selling fiction list and remained there for more than two months, rising to #2.

Sandra Gulland, born in Florida and raised in Berkeley California doesn't live in seventeenth century France. Instead she lives just over the border in Killaloe, about 50 miles west of Ottawa, Canada and spends half her year in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. She also lives on the web at www.SandraGulland.com -- a wonderful web site -- has a very active Facebook page, and writes a very interesting blog called Notes on the Writing Life. I don't know if she can stand on a cantering horse like Louise de la Valliere, but she's been riding enough years that I wouldn't put it past her.

Sandra and I have been cyber friends since 1999, and this is only the second time we have met, yet her support and inspiration have often opened new paths for me. Back in 1998 when I was debating taking US citizenship, she took the time to write to me, explaining dual citizenship. When I was researching my second novel, The Tiger Claw, the story of a Muslim woman set in WWII France, she gave me wonderful advice on conducting meticulous historical research -- yes, she should know! We keep meeting on online discussion groups like historicalnovelsociety.org and Readerville and I think we have been engaged on a similar project: illuminating and bringing alive herstory as opposed to history.

So I am delighted and honored to introduce a dear friend and spectacular writer.

Sandra, welcome to Milwaukee!"

Moved to tears

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I was moved to tears by the wonderful epic poem Rachel Maes was inspired to write about Josephine B. She and her mother came to my Borders reading last night in Wilmette, IL. Rachel is going to be going to Roosevelt University in the fall, where I myself graduated. She is consumed with interest in Royals, and wishes to get a PhD in history. As well as such poetry — the language and images fresh and moving — she is working on two novels. Such talent and focus at such a young age!

This is Rachel and her proud mother, Lanne:

Also at this event was Aimee Aimee Laberge, author of Where the River Narrows, a wonderful historical novel, which I "blurbed" some time ago.

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Awesome luncheon!

Sue Boucher is an amazing book-seller. She's sold 1600 Josephine B.! This luncheon for 70 in elegant Loveli's restuarant in Lake Forest, IL, was a fantastic event.

To the left, a photo of Eileen and Beth, a charming mother and daughter.

Naperville rules!

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The event at Anderson's Bookshop in beautiful Naperville, IL, was wonderful! Fantastic group. Among many others: Lady Bonheaur (who has read Mistress of the Sun already, but not — yet — the Trilogy), Jennifer (who wept so hard on a plane finishing the Trilogy that the man next to her asked if she was all right), Janice (who exclaimed so emotionally that the Trilogy were the best books she has ever read she made me tear up, as well), Wendy (who followed Josephine's story to Paris), Cristine (whose cat is named Josephine Bonaparte), and these three wonderful sisters, Laura, Anne and Beth ("And there are two more sisters!" they told me).

Laura had a rare complete set of the Canadian hardcover editions, one of which she found in Germany, through eBay. I was so excited chatting with this wonderful treo of sisters that I messed up signing their books!

Hats off to this wonderful bookstore. Fantastic staff.

Launch of luncheons by Nicola's Books

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I was honored to be the first guest author at a Nicola's Books luncheon in Ann Arbour, IL. It was such a lovely event that I predict that people will be clamouring to come. Nicola, in the blue dress at the front, is a vibrant book-passionate woman, which accounts for how wonderful her busy bookstore is, and how lovely the staff.

I had wonderful chats with the readers after. One, Anna, told me that it was her grandmother's crypt that's mentioned in the last story in Alice Munroe's The View from Castle Rock. Another, Helen, related the story of her father, who was born in a sod house in Rosetown, Sasketchewan.

Mothers and daughters

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A charming mother and daughter pair came to my reading in West Chester, PA, so I found it sweet to meet yet another mother and daughter at my reading at wonderful Schuler Books & Music on 2660 28th Street SE in Grand Rapids, MI.

Here is Joy and her daughter Laura. They both read and wept over Josephine B. "I warned her!" Laura told me.

Surprises

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I have a Quakerish perception of Philadelphia, so I was astonished to find skyscrapers there — beautiful ones.

The example of a book-signing marathoner

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I had been met in the Philadelphia train station by my escort, waving my book to identify herself. She’d had a busy day: David Sedaris had had a reading earlier, from his new book, When You Are Engulfed in Flames. They’d arrived early, before noon, to sign stock. It was six now: my escort thought he might still be there, signing books. On the way to the hotel, we drove by the street the little bookstore was on: yes, there was a crowd at the door. “Standing all this time, in this heat!”

He’d been signing books for over five hours: I was amazed. I’d once signed books for over an hour and that had been exhausting. This was a pro, a gold-medal book-signing Olympic athlete.

Sheba, on Readerville.com, had this to say:

David Sedaris is a book-signing marathoner. He read here a few months ago to a large audience and finished up around 9:00 p.m. I didn't have anything for him to sign, but I'd gotten my free ticket to see him from my friend, who is the director of development at the NPR station here. She and her daughter both had things for him to sign, so we stood in line for two hours, and the line behind us was still huge. Had I been on my own, I never would've waited in that long a line for anything, but my friend and I chatted, and there were spontaneous conversation groups developing throughout the line One reason it moved so slowly is that Sedaris engaged in a leisurely fashion, very specifically and very personally, with every single person in line. He made much of my friend's 14-year-old daughter, and when he found out my friend was with the NPR station and that pledge week was just winding up, he whipped out his checkbook and wrote the station a check for $500.00.

David Sedaris, apparently, not only has multitudes of readers, but he greets each and every one. He takes his time, chats, asks questions: connects.

I started out with a slow procedure at book signings. (When there were only two or three people with a book to be signed, I wanted them to linger.) I arranged to have a chair beside me so that I could chat with each person face-to-face. I used a fountain pen that required some fussing. I made notes about each person in a special notebook.

Over time I’ve become more rushed: no chair for the reader, a Sharpie instead of a fountain pen. At my last readings, I even dispensed with the notebook — but now, I’m thinking: Why? Tonight, in West Chester, perhaps I’ll follow David Sedaris’s example, take my time.

And then I remember that there will be a long drive back to the hotel after, and an early, early morning wake-up for a flight the next morning for an event in Grand Rapids. There will be bookstore employees longing to pack up, go home to bed.

When European authors come to the U.S. on tour, publicists are required to schedule three hours into each day for shopping. No doubt David Sedaris’s publicity schedule has to allow for five or six hours of signing and chatting after each reading.

A day off

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I had the day off yesterday in Philadelphia, the leisure to regroup: shop for small essentials, attend to laundry, nails & toes. I even checked out the spa in the hotel (very nice). Chipped away at a mountain of email. Had a wonderful tuna and mushroom risotto lunch at the Continental, a hip retro restaurant not far from my hotel. The risotto was almost as good as my husband’s.

Richard calls every morning. He’s at the cabin on the lake, and I can almost feel it — the trees in the breeze, the summer sounds of children playing. I’m longing to be there! I’ll have four days back home at the end of this week.

This week: West Chester, Grand Rapids, Ann Arbor, Chicago. Seven events, three new hotels, three airplane flights and a number of very long drives. And temperatures in the 90’s! This week will be a test.

Fire alarm

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In the middle of the night last night I was awoken by a very loud voice repeating over and over to GET OUT OF THE HOTEL IMMEDIATELY. Fire alarm! I’m on the top floor, but fortunately there are only eight. Sleep-numb, I stagger to the closet and pull on some clothes and grope for shoes. I think to grab my room key (but not my purse, my passport) as I go out the door, joining all the others looking for the stairs, and then following the stream of people going down and down and down. I wish I had my camera then, to click the spiral of stairs, all the hands on the rails. Or my video, to capture the erie sound of all the feet on cement, but no voices, everyone in earnest, just getting out. I sniff the air: no smoke.

Outside, we stand around, groggy with sleep and zinging with adrenalin. David Sedaris, also on book tour, is staying at this same hotel. I wonder if he is in this crowd, thinking funny thoughts. Fire trucks arrive but nothing happens. False alarm. Everyone staggers back to their rooms. I make a note for the future: to have my essentials right by the door.

Week one

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It's Saturday, I'm in Philadelphia, and I'm one week into my tour. I have more energy now than when I started. In fact, I could get used to this. I've seen lots of Connecticut by car, flown from New York to Boston, and gone by train from Boston to Philadelphia.

I've signed a zillion books at bookstores — called "signing stock" — and my hand hasn't given out. I'm a Sharpie fan! All through Connecticut, store clerks would ask, "Do you have a Sharpie?" (Not, "Do you have a pen?") Kelly Bowen, my publicist would laugh: "She's got one."

One clerk didn't understand that we were there to sign books. He handed me a copy of Mistress of the Sun. "Have you been waiting long for the new Sandra Gulland?"

"I'm Sandra Gulland, and yes, I've been waiting long." It made my day.

Trish Todd, my publisher, warned me that book sales were down throughout the country, and that turn-outs might be sparce. There seem always to be enough, though, and invariably there are a few present who are huge fans, who make it all worthwhile.

New York talk video

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Here is a YouTube link to a video of the beginning of my New York reading. I promised son Chet that I would try to embarrass him, and I believe I succeeded!

On tour (again)

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I'm in New York, the Big Apple. Tonight is my NY reading at the Barnes & Noble near the Lincoln Center (7:30, 1972 Broadway) -- the one with the huge room for events, big enough for rock groups, and too big for the likes of me. My hard-working publicist, Kelly Bowen, has warned me that of all the events on this very long one-month tour, this is the one likely to disappoint.

I walked by that store yesterday, and the photo of me on the poster made me look like a burn victim. Oh well.

At least it's no longer threatening to rain -- according to CNN, that is, but not according to the dark overcast sky from my hotel window.

I don't mind small crowds, in truth. There are always a few avid fans, and it's moving to meet them.

I've yet to work out the logistics of my gown. The skirt wrinkles, which I hadn't planned on. Yesterday I bought a Jiffy Esteam -- a clothing steamer. (It works like magic! How did I ever manage without it?) Today I need to find an extension cord, because although there may be an outlet in my improv dressing rooms, they are rarely set close to where I can hang the skirt.

By the time this 4-week tour is over, I hope to have all this worked out.

Tour treat

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One of the big treats of touring is getting to see friends and family en route. In New York, I had the great pleasure of dining with son Chet and meeting his girlfriend, lovely Soraya. We ate at Islero, a tasty tasty mid-town restaurant co-owned by the daughter of friends. A wonderful evening!