Peace

I think we can all use a little Peace, and this video always calms my spirit. Enjoy!

The Reveal, May 8, 2022

The long story short is that in 2013, I began writing my coming-of-age memoir, THE GIRL WITH THE BLACK AND BLUE DOLL, covering events from age 3 through 21.

For the past eight years, I’ve hidden my secret life—my memoir writing life—from my three younger siblings.

I had no way of knowing what their response would be, but five days ago, one year after Mummy’s death at 92, three of us were gathered at my youngest brother’s home in western Massachusetts, and I decided it was time to let them in on my secret.

To prepare for my reveal, I reminded myself of the inspiration and reassurance Cheryl Strayed’s words provided in my writer autograph journal in 2014.

“Dear Linda, I so enjoyed our conversation at my house. I hope you will always remember the spark that drove you the very first time you wrote with passion & delight. There are so many uncertainties in the literary business, but there is no doubt that what drives us forward as writers can’t be thwarted by anything. There is nothing that matters more than the truth you have to share on the page. Trust that above all. Good Luck! Cheryl Strayed“

By 2014, I had finished two drafts and began querying agents. BIG mistake.

Two drafts is at least four drafts too soon for querying. I received dozens of rejections. Most of them didn’t even send official rejections, they just let my query automatically age out of consideration at Querytracker’s 121 days. I did, however, receive one request for a full.

It was from a New York agent who said he loved it. “Talk soon!” he wrote. And then he ghosted me.

I learned my lesson.

After the fifth draft, I hired a developmental editor, who gave me brilliant, professional feedback. I wrote draft six and seven and sent off a handful of well-researched and personalized queries.

The next request for a full came from an agent I have tremendous respect for. She’s in Toronto and by then it was 2021.  She also rejected it. Note to self: Don’t ever think of any agent as “my dream agent”.

I haven’t queried in six months. During this time, I’ve taken four query classes from different writing teachers while further fine-tuning my manuscript. About ten days ago, I had a eureka moment that would dramatically improve the reading and comprehension of my story.

I made those changes, and in preparation for The Reveal, I had THE GIRL WITH THE BLACK AND BLUE DOLL printed and spiral bound for beta-reading. One copy for each of us siblings.

When I got to Gerry’s house, I carried in a tote bag bearing my secret life. I quickly tucked it in a corner of the dining room and joined two of my siblings and one sister-in-law with lots of hugs and kisses.

Frankly, I was a wreck. I wasn’t 100% convinced I’d be able to go through with it.

As soon as we were all settled at the dining room table, I said, “I have something to share with you, and I think this is a good time.”

Everyone looked a little shell-shocked, so I said, “Don’t worry. It’s nothing bad.”

Later in the afternoon, Sharon said her first thought had been “She can’t be pregnant!”

Right. I’m 72.

Gerry said his first thought was that I might be transitioning. Nope.

Over the next five hours, I shared when, how, and why I had finally become a writer. I mentioned that I’ve been encouraged in the last two years as awards, publications, and speaking engagements began to come in.

I was taking Lidia Yuknavitch’s The Body of the Book manuscript class in Portland OR when #MeToo gained traction following the exposure of widespread sexual-abuse allegations against Harvey Weinstein. I wrote my #MeToo chapter The Colombian that morning and read it to the class that night. It was published by Jennifer Pastiloff in The Manifest-Station.(Unfortunately, they misspelled “Colombian.” The typo: “Columbian.” I’ve made my share of typos, so I’ve ignored it.)

Some of my favorite experiences were being named 2021 Finalist for Best Unpublished Memoir by the Pacific Northwest Writers Association in Seattle, and being invited to address the Omaha Chapter, National League of American Pen Women at their March 2022 meeting.

I still don’t have an agent. I explained the query process to them and the much-desired “request for a full”.

As we were talking, frequently, Sharon would ask “Do you remember the time…?”

And I would respond, “YES, I have a chapter on that…  And wait— I’ll read it to you.”

It was So Much Fun and we all were so elated with our surprise afternoon’s entertainment.

Gerry said he was enlightened since my memoir includes a period of ten years before he was born.

Sharon said it was fascinating how each of us viewed same events from different perspectives.

Gerry added that he felt it’s great that I’ve reflected on my early life to consider if there’s been any influence on unfolding what he called The Life Experience.

My sister-in-law Robin said “I’m struggling with this. There are mixed emotions because I met your parents at a much later stage. It’s sad and weird for me because your story is a different experience.” Tears were shed.

Sharon added,  “As I read this, I’m just glad that you were able to write it down so eloquently.”

What I know now: My siblings are 100% supportive. That is, thus far, two out of three of them.

I realize my fears were totally unwarranted.

Sharon and I talked about things we’ve never spoken of.

It was the Best day Ever.

Immediately after all was said and done, and still with all of us at the dining room table, I checked my email.

Omigosh! There was an email from the author Paddy Eger, representing the EPIC Writers Group in Bellingham WA. I’m a member and she was asking me to call her at my earliest convenience. On a Sunday. On Mother’s Day!

 My fingers hit those numbers fast and furiously. She answered.

She wanted me to know that my Prose piece, Mr. Buchwald, which is Chapter 61 of THE GIRL WITH THE BLACK AND BLUE DOLL, had won the 2022 EPIC First Prize for Prose.

What timing!

This. In the dining room immediately after The Reveal. We were all mind-blown. What an affirmation.

Update: June 13, 2022

Gerry, Linda, Sharon
We laughed and laughed!

My other brother Richard (aka Dicky in the memoir) is now reading and approving of my story. He’s also been freaking us out with memories of his own!

A Woman Who Desires More Writes a #Memoir

Hear me share a couple of childhood anecdotes from The Girl with the Black and Blue along with discussions of immigration and what values drive a woman to persevere on the road to pursuing her dreams.

Recently I had the pleasure of being interviewed by Fiona Citkin for her program, #TheBridgeforWomenWorldwide. (18-minute video)

“I have always loved wild places.

I grew up on a three-generation, hundred-acre family farm

where my siblings and I were put out to pasture at an early age.

We crawled on our bellies in our stick forts

and grazed on wild strawberries till the cows came home.”

Linda Summersea

Linda Summersea, a late bloomer in creative writing, authored a memoir THE GIRL WITH THE BLACK AND BLUE DOLL, and confessed:

“My writing is not my hobby. It’s my passion. I want to write and travel and live my life to the fullest for as long as I am able.”

Please VIEW on YouTube and LIKE. ❤️ THANKS!

#comingofage #amwriting #writercommunity #literarynonfiction #amquerying

Frank McCourt was my Inspiration

About once a year, I do a Google search for Noah Adams’ NPR interview with Frank McCourt so I can hear McCourt’s lovely Irish voice and once again, be inspired.

Why was is Frank McCourt my inspiration?

  1. Because it was after hearing NPR’s 2009 interview with Frank McCourt, that I knew I wanted to write my own memoir.
  2. Because when Frank McCourt published his first book, Angela’s Ashes, at the age of 66, I thought maybe I could still be considered an “emerging” writer at my age.
  3. Because I loved the way he managed to write the dreadful conditions of his childhood in a comic manner.  Wikipedia calls it a “tragicomic memoir of the misery and squalor of his childhood.”
  4. Because I had first-hand knowledge of a painful childhood.

No, I didn’t grow up in squalor. We lived on a 3-generation farm where we had plenty of food to eat, and a hundred acres to run around. Of course, the reason we had a hundred acres to run around was that my mother commonly locked us out of the house so she could watch “her stories” on television and smoke cigarettes. I was in charge of the younger kids and, for their entertainment, I led them over hill and dale, dodging cow patties, grazing on wild strawberries, and building stick forts until the cows came home.

When I heard the NPR interview, I was 59.  It took me more than a few years until I got started. I was naive enough to think that my memoir would be ready after two or three rounds of editing. Ha! It’s taken seven drafts to get it right.

But enough about me. My mother would always accuse me of “getting a big head” if I said anything positive about myself. 

I think I’ve managed to write some decent tragicomedy in my 371 pages of The Girl with the Black and Blue Doll. (McCourt’s has 369 pages. A coincidence.)

But I can’t match McCourt’s “we were so poor” story.

He told of how they were often without food.

One night he asked his uncle about food to eat and his uncle said there was none, so after the uncle went to bed, young Frank saw his uncle’s discarded fish and chip newspaper on the floor.  He retrieved it and began to lick the oil out of the newspaper pages.  Licking the obituaries and the sports pages and the headlines of World War II (and more!) until there was no more oil to lick.

I still think that fish and chip newspaper is the most tragicomic story I’ve ever read.  In my own memoir, the fish and chips were a bit more serious. Here’s the short version.

Like McCourt, we also were Catholics. One day when my mother had just put the Crisco on the stove to heat for the fish on Friday that she was going to cook, she got distracted. She heard the bread man toot his arrival in the driveway, and since Mummy was always very chatty, she and Norman always spoke at great length. The next thing she knew, Norman saw black smoke pouring out the screen door. A fire! The firetrucks, my baby brother being brought out to his carriage, my siblings and I running down the road from the school bus to discover the disaster. I saw my 10-year-old brother being flung horizontally from the front step by a fireman.

“Get outa here!” snarled the fireman.

“It’s my house!” screamed my brother.

That night as we sat around the kitchen table, my mother cried. Then, my father began to cry. I don’t know what we had for supper, but it wasn’t fish and chips.

And the next day? We went to school as usual. Dirty hair, smoky clothes. Sad.

I was in the girls’ room when I heard Sister Florentine’s voice, “Where’s Linda?”

That concerned me but I eventually came out of the stall and she ran to throw her arms around me. I remember her wooden cross pressing into my chest, her scratchy wool habit, and the feeling of being held like a baby.

It was my very first hug. I was in eighth grade.

Here’s a link to the NPR interview. Noah Adams reveals a great deal of the man in this 9-minute listen. Enjoy!

https://www.npr.org/1996/10/01/1045022/frank-mccourt-on-angelas-ashes