Announcing my next book... THE IMPOSSIBLE CARAVAN!!!

 photo credit: Charlie Cox of Irish Rose Farm

UPDATE FROM SPRING 2015: THE FINAL TITLE FOR THIS BOOK IS...

THE LIGHTNING QUEEN

Hello, dear readers!

I can finally announce the news I've been hinting at for a while now (and which some of you already know via Facebook and Twitter)! Here's the official announcement of my new book deal!!!

Children's: Middle grade
Americas Award-winning author Laura Resau's THE IMPOSSIBLE CARAVAN, in which an indigenous boy and a Romani (Gypsy) girl form a friendship in rural Mexico that spans the rest of their lives and embraces magic, music, and predictions of impossible destinies, to Andrea Davis Pinkney of Scholastic, in a good deal, at auction, in a two-book deal, by Erin Murphyof Erin Murphy Literary Agency (world).

(Expected Publication Date: Fall 2015.  And note that the title might change!)

You guys, I'm so excited!  This is a new publisher and editor for me, and I've heard incredible things about them both.  I've been working with Andrea on revisions this summer, and I keep pinching myself because she is a dream to work with... this whole experience, in fact, has felt like an abracadabrant dream.

I got the idea for this book about 15 years ago, when I was living in an indigenous region of Oaxaca, Mexico, teaching and doing anthropology research.  I met a 96-year-old healer named Maria Lopez Martinez, lovingly nicknamed "Maria Chiquita," and her daughter, Fidelina.  We immediately hit it off, and after Maria Chiquita gave me a limpia (spiritual cleaning involving chanting, praying, and beating me with bundles of herbs and spitting on me with alcohol), she and her daughter told me I reminded them of the gitana (Gypsy/Romani)  women who used to visit their Mixtec village in the mid-20th century. They launched into enchanting stories about the caravans that would show outdoor movies and tell fortunes and bring joy and excitement to their community.

 I could only find this small-resolution image of the three of us

I ended up becoming good friends with these women, and although Maria Chiquita passed away a year later, I went to her cabo de anno (that double nn is supposed to be an n with a squiggle above it but I can't figure out how to do that in blogger!)  This was a beautiful candlelit gathering a year after her death in which we honored her spirit.

 "Drops of Wax" illustration by Emma Shaw Smith

Maria Chiquita had a big effect on my life, and I ended up weaving her stories about the gitanas into a short story called "Drops of Wax" for Cricket Magazine-- my first big publication.  Fast forward about ten years, after I'd published seven books and was struggling with what I thought would be my next book-- a YA fantasy that my writing friends and I referred to as THE CHOCOLATE BOOK  (or, THAT  #$&*! CHOCOLATE BOOK).  This was the spring of 2013, and man oh man, was this book giving me trouble!  It was super-intricate, jumping around in time and space, leaping from one character's point of view to another... and then there was crazy-complicated fantastical world-building I was getting lost in...

Around that time, I took a trip to Half Moon Bay, California for an author visit and walked along the succulent-covered ocean cliffs.  It had an almost magical effect on me... I started getting vivid glimpses of a new story.... a story that was for younger readers, and involved the Romani (Gypsies) and a Mixtec village... and it felt graceful and fun and soul-soaring to me.  I decided I needed to give my poor brain a break from THE %*&!@ CHOCOLATE BOOK, and this new story was the perfect project.  I jotted down bits of dialogue and scenes and imagery in the little notebook I carry around with me, and started getting really excited about it.  It felt deeply special to me--  after all, the novel had been brewing in my unconscious mind for the past fifteen years.  I'd written that short story, but I'd always had the sense that I wanted to weave some of its basic elements into a full-length novel someday... and the day had finally come!

The book was a pure joy to write... I ended up finishing a solid draft by the fall-- in less than six months, which is really fast for me.  Then, for a few months, I asked some smart and generous writing friends to critique it, and I did a few revisions.  By the winter, my agent was reading it, and then, in the springtime of 2014, Andrea Davis Pinkney made the offer. Then I had to sit on the news all summer long until the contract was signed and the deal officially announced. So... it's been a fruitful and exciting year!

SO many people have helped me with this manuscript... the acknowledgments will be looooong! My friends in the Mixteca region of Oaxaca were enormously helpful, and I feel bowled over with gratitude.  And my writer friend, Ron Cree, contributed awesome real-life stories about some unusual pets he had as a kid-- this helped me with "character development" of the rescued skunk and duck in the book.  (You can read his hilarious stories here and here.)

The abandoned, injured gosling my family and I rescued back in May 2013 was also a big inspiration for the duckling character in the story.  Here you can see photos of Baby Goose Grape (and also read another true, funny waterfowl story.)

My friend Charlie Cox helped with some of the Romani (Gypsy) elements in the story-- he lives on a farm on the outskirts of town, and has Romani vardos (caravans) and Gypsy horses!  Here's a post I did after he invited me out to his farm and graciously showed me his vardos.

 Photo credit: Charlie Cox of the Irish Rose Farm

I've been interested in Romani cultures around the world ever since reading anthropologist Isabel Fonseca's ethnographic book BURY ME STANDING in the mid 1990's.  It made me aware of the misconceptions about the Romani as free-spirited wanderers, and gave me a better understanding of the societal challenges they've faced, historically and current-day. And then, as I did research for my novel, I was fascinated to learn more about the Romani through books, oral histories, and documentaries (the recent movie Papusza was wonderful and moving.)

Researching this book was the first time I used a Pinterest board to collect images, and it was really helpful.  Here are a couple images from the board that helped me visualize the Romani girl in my novel.

(Unfortunately, a problem with Pinterest is that it can be hard to find photo credits for images-- I don't know who took these pics, but if you do, let me know, and I'll give credit.)

 I imagine the girl in front resembles my main character-- I love her confident, almost sassy expression!


Okay, I think this post is long enough for now! I have more inspiration/research background to share with you later, though...  some of it involves my vintage Viewmaster and slide collection, actually. ;-)


On that note, I will bid you farewell!  Thank you for coming by and sharing in my happiness... and I hope you're enjoying these first bits of fall.

xo,
Laura

Blog Writer Chain Thingie

Hey guys,

Hope you're having a glorious summer! Wilma the Beagle's summer has been quite relaxing, as you can see...

 

So, I was asked to be part of a Blog Writer Chain Thingie (not the official name), in which the baton was passed from my dear novelist friend (and writers' group member) Laura Pritchett to me, and after answering these questions, I in turn, will pass it along to another writer friend...

If you want to see Laura's interview, you can go here and see it in conversation form with another awesome writer friend, Amy Kathleen Ryan.  Laura Pritchett's latest novel is STARS GO BLUE and it's gorgeous and gritty and moving.  (Note it's marketed for adults, not YA.)  

Here is the blurb I posted about STARS GO BLUE on Goodreads: 

Reading this book was a profound experience that I don't think I'll ever forget. It made me FEEL so DEEPLY. It made me feel BIG things, like life and death and love and sorrow and laughter and landscape... Pritchett has this incredible ability to capture the expansive range of human experience and make readers feel it all, right down to their bones. I was already crying just a few pages in-- but the good kind of crying, the kind that lets you glimpse what matters about being a human on earth. There are hard and gritty elements in this book, like the murder of a loved one and mental deterioration from Alzheimer's... but there is a soaring beauty as well, seen in the poetically spiritual descriptions of snow or trees. And Pritchett somehow manages to weave all this poignancy into a suspenseful and breath-taking plot that kept me glued to the book.

Okay, so as I understand it, for this Blog Writer Chain Thingie, I am supposed to answer these questions about my own writing:

1. What am I currently working on?

I'm revising my upcoming novel with my wonderful new editor... and I hate to be mysterious, but the contract is not quite signed, so I'm not allowed to tell you about it yet.... argh!!!  (I'll just say that it's set in Oaxaca, Mexico and there's magical realism in it, as well as a rescued skunk, goat, and duckling.  It also involves a caravan and outdoor films and lightning and coins and dust.)   Okay, I'm afraid I'll get in trouble if I say anything else, so I'll move on to the next question!)

2. How does my work differ from others of its genre?

I feel passionate about indigenous rights and immigration issues, and I hope this comes through in my novels.  I think these issues need to be approached with a sense of empathy and compassion, and with the understanding that we're all connected on this earth.  I think that my anthropology training comes through in my work-- I know my participant-observation research style has been an essential part of my process.  Oh, and also, I can't resist weaving in sparkling threads of magic and travel and adventure...

3. Why do I write what I write?

Er, see above?  ;-)

 

4. How does my individual writing/illustrating process work?

Let's see, first I find myself jotting down ideas and notes on a possible future story.  This stage often involves my dozens of spiral-bound notebooks, and it might take a few months, or a few years, or a few decades.  At some point, I start writing bits and pieces of the story, sometimes from the beginning, sometimes not.  I don't censor myself, and let it flow out in a stream-of-consciousness way. 

After a few pages, or a few dozen pages, I write a kind of provisional outline, mapping out the character arcs and plots and subplots.  I also take notes on the imagery, symbolism, tone, atmosphere, etc.  Then I write more stream-of-consciousness stuff for a while, and then at some point, I revisit the outline and tweak some things to accommodate all the cool surprises that pop up while I'm doing the actual writing.  I go back and forth like this for months, and sometimes years. 

When I have a pretty good chunk of manuscript, I start revising, looking at elements like character development, pacing, plot, layers of meaning, imagery, language, etc.  I might move between revising what I have, revisiting the outline, and writing new stuff, until finally I have a solid draft. 

I show it to my critique partners and writing group members, and once they give me their feedback, I do more revising.  When it feels right, I pass it along to my agent and if she wants any revisions, I do them.  Then it's on to my editor.  And then there's more revising ahead...



which is where I am now.  I'm at the point where I'm fine-tuning and polishing and fact-checking, working with a spiral bound hard copy.  It's nice because I can just sit on the wee balcony just outside my writing room, get cozy with Wilma, and revise away...



Okay, so I'm not sure yet which writer will be next in this chain, but once I know, I'll update this post with an intro and a link.

Thanks for swinging by, and have fun this summer!

xo,
Laura

Solo in a Trailer in Venice...

Hello, dear readers!  

I'm back from a blissful solo writing retreat to Venice, CA! (I was there last month with the family, and came back for some creative time away, and it was WONDERFUL.)

I had a plane voucher for a couple hundred dollars which I had to use back in October.  Wisely, I remembered that I always get depressed and restless in February in Colorado.  I always feel ready for winter to be over around now, but here in Ft Collins we get snow through April.... and I desperately crave warm weather.

I'm also a girl-of-the-sea at heart, and I can't get enough of the ocean....

So back in October, I scheduled this trip, and man oh man, am I glad I did!  The past couple months in Colorado have been rough-- with some days never getting above the single digits, freezing one's nose hairs within minutes outside.

I found this abracadabrant place to stay on Air B n B, in the heart of Venice... in a sixties trailer!  Heaven!

The couple rents out this trailer as well as an Airstream, and they did a great job renovating and decorating them. (As you might know, I have my own vintage trailer that serves as my creative space, and find it really cozy and inspiring.)

 

I loved traveling alone before I was a wife and mother, and I still love it... maybe even more now!  I love not having to cater to anyone else's needs or compromise with anyone... I love being able to follow my whims as I explore.  I love not having to talk to anyone unless I want to... and spending days conversing only with my notebook if I feel like it.

Ian was very sweet to encourage me to go on this trip... I have several author visits coming up this spring (that I didn't know about when I bought this ticket back in October), and I was hesitant to ask him to do solo childcare for Lil Dude... but he told me I should definitely go.  And I did (and of course, I missed them both), and I feel SO refreshed and invigorated now.

The courtyard area of this place was artistic and eclectic, filled with flea market finds, from antique globes to tribal statues to vintage farm tools.

 

I love this lifestyle, where there are no boundaries between indoors and outdoors.  The owners are artists-- Tao is an Italian film-maker and photographer who works out of another trailer in the yard.  Roisin, from Ireland, does some kind of research and takes a lot of care in arranging all the plants and artwork. It made me want to work more on having more indoor-outdoor flow in my own home, but of course, that's harder to do with the weather extremes in Colorado.  But I resolved that during the windows of time when our weather is gentle, I will do this!

Tropical plants galore... bouganvillea and honeysuckle vines and bamboo and a million varieties of succulents and what I call "Dr. Seuss plants." It was just a five block walk to the beach and to the yummy food on Abbot Kinney Blvd.  I ended up getting most of my food to go (cheaper), and ate it back here in the courtyard.  Gjelina's Take Away (GTA) was other-worldly delicious... I got ideas for new things to try making at home.  (In fact, this morning I'm making their salmon toast. *mouth already watering*)

I love reading about creativity, and how brains work, and one thing's for sure: Creativity depends on you seeking out new, stimulating experiences to make new and surprising neural connections. I try to honor this in my everyday life, by taking new routes on walks with the dog, or wandering around flea markets to discover strange old things.  And I'm adamant about making travel a big part of my life... for me, that's what travel is: zap-zap-zapping new neural pathways and opening new worlds and ways of thinking.

Okay, I'll wrap up the little tour now.  The bathroom! It was outside, in this little art-filled room.

And the cherry on top of my excursion was seeing my adorable cousin, Michelle (and her new husband and wee dog) .  I hadn't seen her for ages, but we caught up with each other this trip, and had brunch at this cafe right on the Venice beachfront.

 Oh, and another good thing about the trip: I didn't bring my laptop!  I wrote in my old-fashioned paper notebook and read old-fashioned paper books for entertainment, and it was delicious.  I read Brain on Fire: My Month of Madness.  Great, interesting memoir that I read in a day.  Made me feel so grateful to my brain, which, despite a few flaws (like tendency toward anxiety and panic), works pretty darn smoothly. (Thank you, Brain.)

 I also read part of Shine Shine Shine (loving its weirdness) and Nocturnes: Five Stories of Music and Nightfall.  (Not as crazy about that, but glad I read two of the stories and love the evocative title.)

I also learned about Dadaism, from a book in the trailer (and I guessed that might be the philosophical framework behind much of Tao and Roisin's art?)

If you're considering a trip there, here's the link to the trailer I stayed in. It's only for one person, but the Airstream on the same property is for a couple. Also, if you're considering going, note that I didn't need to rent a car... I just took a Supershuttle from the airport to the property, and walked everywhere.

All right, time to finish making this salmon toast! Thanks for reading...  I hope you're finding a way to survive February, too!

xo
Laura

Oh, Serendipity, I love you!

 Canvas Bowtop wagon, photo credit: Charlie Cox of The Irish Rose Farm

So, a couple weeks ago, we got a sweet little 3-year-old beagle named Wilma from the shelter (photos of Wilma to come in another post soon!)  Lil Dude and I brought her to the Farmer's Market last Saturday. You know how dogs almost magically introduce you to all kinds of interesting people?

Well, Charlie Cox was one of these people!  At his farm stand, he struck up conversation with me about Wilma and beagles... and one topic led to another... and next thing I know, he's showing me photos of his AUTHENTIC GYPSY WAGONS on his cell phone!

It just so happens that all summer, I've been researching all things Gypsy/Roma/Romany/Rom for a new book! Don't you love serendipity?!

 

I've got piles of books and CD's and DVD's about the Romany-- which are great and all, but I always crave real-life, in-person stuff when I'm doing research.  I like talking to people, going places, interacting, getting a completely multi-sensory experience so that I can make scenes come alive for readers.

Anyway, Charlie very kindly invited me out to his farm/ranch in north Fort Collins-- the Irish Rose Farm-- just a twenty minute drive from my house. He and his wife breed, show, train, and sell Irish Cobs, including "Gypsy horses," which led them to an interest in Gypsy wagons.

I drove out to his farm (so peaceful and beautiful) and discovered that this man is a sparkling treasure trove of knowledge about the Romany-- I felt like I'd just won the lottery, in terms of book research.  I love talking with passionate experts, listening to their stories, scribbling notes wildly in a little notebook.  Major research adrenalin rush.

Charlie has two Romany vardo (wagons), which he acquired in Ireland and had shipped here to the foothills of the Rockies.  (One of the deals was sealed by spitting into palms and shaking hands, Romany style.)

This one is called a Canvas Bowtop, built in the early1900's (1930's, I think). Charlie and his wife, Jan, take this to festivals in the region, showing how it's pulled by one of their Gypsy horses.


photo credit: Charlie Cox, Irish Rose Farm


Inside of the Bowtop, repainted in the 1980s.


 this is the front of the wagon-- driver perches on that little ledge


Detail-- this artist, Tom Stephenson, used a fruit motif

pretty scrollwork in classic Irish Romany colors


In the far back is the sleeping area-- a slide-out bed; the cast iron stove is for heating tea and giving warmth.

Charlie's other vardo is under renovation now.  It's a Burton Wagon, aka a Showman's wagon, built in 1914. The14 layers of paint were in bad shape, so he's stripping it and repainting it in Romany style.

Fascinating, no?!  I was captivated.  (For links to more pics, you can go to Charlie's website-- Irish Rose Farm.)  Thanks for swinging by!  Hope you enjoyed this little glimpse of my research-in-progress...

xo

Laura

Creativity and Risk...

 

Hey guys,

 I've been trying to post pics of the adorable baby goose who found her way, briefly, into our lives... but blogger isn't letting me upload the photos. Argh! I'll save those pics for another time.

So, I just thought I'd let you know I finished the next draft of my book-in-progress!  It was pretty much a complete rewrite-- I was able to salvage a few things here and there from the first draft.

I'm venturing out of my comfort zone with this book-- it's contemporary fantasy, which makes it different from my previous books (mostly realistic fiction with a touch of magical realism).  I've also experimented with point of view-- it's narrated in close third person, shifting among three different people. (All my other books are first person with only one or two narrators.)  And there are many other things that make it more intricate than any of my other books... complexities of plot and character and setting....  I could go on and on.  Let's just say that the story is ambitious and I'm trying to let it be as BIG as it wants to be. :-)

I've had conversations with my wise creator friend Les Sunde* about my insecurities during the process of writing this book.  I tell him I'm having lots of fun writing it, but sometimes I worry I won't be able to pull it off-- that I won't be able to make the reality of the book match the beautiful, intricate, epic vision I have for it.  And he tells me that I need to take this risk.  If I keep doing versions of the same creative thing over and over, staying in the familiar comfort zone, then my soul won't feel happy and soaring.

So, I'm taking the risk, and I have to say, I'm enjoying it, a LOT... but I am a little afraid of getting feedback on this latest draft--- seeing how short this falls from my vision, seeing how much work I'll need to do, how many more revisions.

But, despite my fears, I'm doing what I need to do, and loving the process, and taking the risk, and that's what creating is all about...

If you went to my Adventures in Novel-Writing workshop at the Pike's Peak Writers' Conference a couple weeks ago, this kind of self-pep-talk might sound familiar... (See, this here is evidence of my own self-pep-talking.)

Exciting things are happening in my life now... *travel*-related things... you will be hearing more about them pretty soon. And speaking of travel, I've been doing local travel around Colorado for author visits and conferences and workshops this spring, meeting so many amazing writers of all ages. A few days ago, I was at Indian Peaks Elementary in Longmont where I did a presentation about Star in the Forest and What the Moon Saw, and followed it up with a bilingual Spanish writing workshop.  I LOVED hearing the kids' character sketches in Spanish-- such a treat.

May you have the courage 
to take risks 
in your own creative endeavors!

xo,

Laura   

P.S.  You can read more creativity quotes on my Pinterest board here. :-)
P.P.S. * You can read more wisdom from my friend Les in this article I wrote about him here.

Finding the heart of a story...

Hey guys,

It's been exciting to have Star in the Forest as a Scholastic Book Fair selection this winter! It's also been on a bunch of state reading lists. (Thank you, readers in Kansas, Oklahoma, Washington DC, Arizona, Vermont, Indiana, and Virginia!)  I'm so happy that more readers are getting the chance to connect with the book.  I've been doing more and more author visits about this book... and I've been thinking about it a lot lately as I go over the Spanish version with my good friend and talented writer Gloria Garcia Diaz, who is translating it!  (Yes! It will exist in Spanish form-- we haven't found a Spanish-language publisher for it yet, but we'll get it out there one way or another!)

I wrote this essay for Book Page a few years ago, when the book first came out, but I thought I'd post it here so you can get a glimpse into my process of writing a book... which, for me, usually lasts years and years. Enjoy!

Behind the Book: Crossing borders to find the heart of a story

by Laura Resau

I came across the bones of my book Star in the Forest on the outskirts of a small town in southern Mexico. One day, fifteen years ago, I was taking my daily walk down a dirt road lined with shacks made of corrugated metal and plastic tarp and salvaged wood scraps. I strolled past smoldering piles of trash and leaped over trickles of raw sewage, giving wide berth to occasional packs of scrawny dogs.  

You should know that I loved these walks. Each one was an adventure. Curious kids would approach me, and soon their mothers and aunts and grandmothers would meander over and offer me a glass of warm Coke or a tortilla and beans. . . and new friendships were born.  

On this particular day, I came across a family leading a burro by a frayed rope. They smiled at me, and in perfect American English, one of the children said, “Hey, what are you doing all the way out here?”  

Surprised, I explained that I’d been working here as an English teacher, then asked where they’d learned to speak English so well. They chattered about their previous home in Chicago, where they’d spent most of their lives until their recent move back to rural Oaxaca. It felt surreal to be talking to such thoroughly American kids at the side of a dirt road where chickens pecked at corn kernels hidden among old diapers and Sabrita wrappers.  

Over my next two years living in Oaxaca, as I met more young people who’d spent part of their childhoods in the U.S., I tried to understand how they might feel straddling two very different cultures. I jotted down thoughts and observations in my notebook, thinking they might come out in a story someday.  

A few years later, in Colorado, I worked with an organization that assisted Mexican immigrant families with young children. I made home visits in trailer parks where many of the families lived, and there I met children on this side of the border who were also negotiating lives that bridged two worlds. I came to understand that despite the relative luxuries of their American homes—indoor plumbing and solid walls—undocumented kids have lives brimming with uncertainty. Considered “illegal,” they lack a home that gives them a sense of safety and belonging.  

During my time working with these families, I wrote a short story about a girl in a Colorado trailer park who misses her indigenous community in Mexico, and finds comfort in her friendship with a neighbor girl and a stray dog. My notes and ideas from my time in Oaxaca helped me flesh out the girl’s flashbacks. I kept tinkering with the story over the next few years, but, sensing that it was missing something, I always tucked it away again.  

While writing my first novel, I worked as an English teacher for immigrants. Then, after the book’s publication, my author visits took me to schools with large Latino populations. During these years, I formed friendships with many undocumented parents and children who shared with me their fears, anxieties and personal stories. A number of immigrants I knew had close relatives who had been deported from the U.S., leaving the rest of their family behind. Others had been assaulted or kidnapped while attempting to cross the border. Often, after hearing about these experiences, I took out my trailer park story and wove in more layers, ideas and details. Yet the manuscript always ended up back in a drawer.  

On trips back to visit southern Mexico, I sometimes visited the families of my new immigrant friends. I spent a week with a family in a Nahuatl village called Xono and bonded with my friend’s adorable three-year-old boy. On the morning of my departure, he looked at me with huge, earnest eyes and begged in his small voice, “Laurita, por favor, no te vayas a Colorado.” Please don’t go to Colorado. As I gave him a teary hug goodbye, I realized that to him, Colorado was a black hole that swallowed his loved ones. Back home, I pulled out my story again, incorporating experiences from Xono, adding bits and pieces from both sides of the border. Still, the story didn’t feel complete.  

And then one day, I heard from a 12-year-old reader I’ll call Maria. She connected strongly with Clara, the narrator of my first novel, What the Moon Saw, who visits her grandparents in their Mixtec village in Oaxaca one summer. Like Clara, Maria lived in the U.S. and had relatives in an indigenous community in southern Mexico.  

But unlike Clara, Maria was undocumented. She’d come to live in her Colorado trailer park as a young child, after crossing the desert illegally. Her father had recently been deported to Mexico, and soon after, Maria began having problems at home and at school. After a particularly bad argument with her mom, she yelled, “I want to go to Mexico, like Clara did!”  

Her mother pointed out that Clara was born in the U.S., and could cross the border freely. Yet if Maria crossed the border, it would be too dangerous and costly to return. “I don’t care!” she shouted.  

Then her mother told her that if she moved back to their village, she could no longer go to school; instead, she’d have to wash clothes by hand all day to earn her living.Understandably, this made Maria even angrier... and frustrated and sad.  

Which made me angry, frustrated and sad. So I wrote about it in my notebook. And suddenly, everything I’d been trying to say in the trailer park story crystallized. I wrote about a girl in Maria’s situation, trying to find a sense of power and comfort in a desperate situation beyond her control. The novel that emerged had the framework of my original story, but now I felt there was something more, something that made the story pulse and breathe. After a decade and many journeys back and forth across the border, its heart had arrived.