I can’t imagine you haven’t heard that I’ve signed with agent Michelle Wolfson of Wolfson Literary Agency. You had to have heard–I was yelling!!!! I need to write a post about the journey…its what I do. But if you don’t mind, give me just a little wiggle room because I’d like to do it my way…
As much as I ADORE all my writer friends, I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t say I’ve always coveted their good news just a tiny little bit. I mean, if I didn’t, that would make me like a droid or something and then I wouldn’t be cuddly and I might rust. So as a human, with human emotions, I’ll admit that I’ve always been 99.9% over the moon, excited for my writer peeps–with one exception. I’m possibly just a little more than .1% green with envy of Mike Jung. He’s Captain Stupendous and I’ve always wanted to be a superhero too.
So for all of you out there, who’ve embraced me with all your love and support, (I’m only talking to that .1% part of you–deep down inside where your soft and squishy vulnerable stuff is) This is for you…to remind you that it wasn’t an easy journey, I didn’t do it alone and that it was so worth it–so please don’t give up.
This was how my journey as a writer started…
The date is June 18, 2004. Several months before this picture was taken, on this little guy’s 1st birthday, my Dad was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor on his optic nerve. Later, in September my Dad had his last birthday. My final gift to him was the knowledge that he was going to be a grandpa for the third time. Towards the end, he would lay in bed–he was blind, half paralyzed and extremely aware of being a burden on his family. (He never was.) He asked me one day if the baby was close to coming. (It was December and my youngest wasn’t due until June.) That’s when I realized he was waiting. He was waiting for me and he was waiting for my baby. Once again, I held him close and whispered that I did not want him to wait. I told him that I knew he would be with me always and that it was OK for him to go. He died on New Years Day 2005. I was sad, but I was mostly relieved that he was going to feel like this again…
After he was gone I missed him terribly, but like I’d predicted–he hadn’t left. He made is presence known and I started to write. This is what I wrote…
When your father dies unexpectedly you have two choices; you can let a little piece of yourself die with him or you can let a little piece of him live with you…
You know my pick.
If I Was There to Tell You
I never knew myself to be deep as the ocean.
I skated across life as if it were a sheet of ice.
At certain times, in uncertain light
I thought I saw something deeper,
but I was never truly sure.
My beautiful baby, now grown and searching,
would grab my hand and try to make me fly.
I made no sense of this…
but she kept flying and returning for me.
Always coaxing me to soar,
never understanding my fear of falling to the ice.
Fracturing completely.
As I lay dying, she held my hand.
As the dark shattered, I suddenly realized…
there is no ice when you know yourself to be the ocean.
Just like there is no ceiling when
you know yourself to be the sky.
Now I fly with her to the depths of me. |
|
This was the first time in my life where I’d written something that came from some place bigger than myself. It was an experience of a lifetime and I was hooked. I wanted that feeling again and again but I was afraid. I didn’t have a lot of faith in what I could do as a writer, so I joined an online poetry site and I wrote more poems about everything I was feeling. I also cyber cruised the SCBWI website. I didn’t think I belonged there. I felt I wasn’t good enough to be a part of that, but it never stopped my from driving by.
About halfway through my pregnancy, it was my birthday, and I received a wonderful present. One I will never forget.
This is Heather. We’ve been friends since junior high school. We’re still friends and she is a link in the chain of reasons that I now have an agent. For my birthday that year, she bought a pregnant and grieving friend, a ticket to a local author’s luncheon. It was a pivotal moment for me. I heard the authors talking about their books and how they came to be standing there. I was in awe. Then we went home and sat in the driveway and talked for several hours. We shared the day and other good things and then for just a moment I felt brave and I shared something ugly. Something I was ashamed of and that is when it happened…Heather didn’t hate me, didn’t judge me. Instead, she felt relieved because she’d been carrying around the same ugly thing too. She thought she was alone. I thought I was alone. We weren’t–now we were together and the burden wasn’t so heavy to carry. I laid in bed that night and one of the biggest revelations of my life hit me.
I needed to be open and honest with people. I had done it for my father when he was dying and it was beautiful. But why should I wait until someone was dying to speak up?
I realized there will always be people who hate me and others who don’t understand me, but in the big scheme of things, they are few. Most people want to connect. They don’t want to be alone and my truth might be the connection that makes the difference. That night I decided two very important things…
The first–being open and vulnerable is worth the risk of having my heart rubbed against a cheese grater from time to time.
The second–I am going to be an author.
***to be continued***
I broke from tradition this evening and instead of going out and spending the New Year with my brother, his girlfriend and my mom–John and I stayed home with his mom (who usually kidnaps the boys) and three sick little ones. Instead of telling stories about my dad–some funny (he was hilarious) and some sad (6 years ago we spent the New Year in a hospital waiting for him to die)–I found myself counting my blessings.
It is hard to lose a parent, but it is infinitely harder to lose a child. This year the Jones family lost their little girl and as you read, a dear friend of mine will soon lose another child that she loves from her life. With my feverish and uncomfortable 7 year old sitting on my lap, I felt horrible that he was so miserable, and very very grateful. I felt blessed that I grew up having a father to hold me when I was sick, lucky that my three children truly do not know what it means to suffer and humbled by the courage of those who have taken care of a truly sick child and then had to watch them leave.
My Dad had the biggest, kindest heart and I know that he would be honored–if when you take that extra moment to think of him today–you cut the memory short and take a minute or two to send a little extra love to those families that will have a 2011 with a piece of their heart missing.
Love and miss you, Daddy.
Kimmie
P.S. I owe you a happy post and promise to deliver soon–tonight is for the little ones. Miss you.
Tags: Dad
I wish I could’ve sent a card to all of you–but I had to stop when I got that envelope-licking, paper-cut thingy on the side of my mouth. *grin…ouch*
Dear Fabulous Agents, Family & Friends:
Usually I let one of the kids write the yearly update, but since I’m stalking agents, I thought it would be a great idea to combine my Christmas letter with my query letter; allowing me to highlight my voice in a different venue. By the way, Santa has a copy of my YA novel and will be placing it under your tree very soon. For those of you who celebrate Hanukah—I sent it with the Hanukah armadillo—it will get there eventually (those animals are slow and hardly ever in picture books).
I also thought it would be helpful if you were aware of all the things I do in addition to my writing. (Can you see the multitasking?) Working towards publication is ALWAYS my top priority: but this year I’ve also taken and taught dance classes, coached Jr. Pee Wee soccer and started running. Did I mention that I’m also the “Box Top Fairy” for the Elementary school? (Impressive, I know!) But there’s more. Please be aware that the children NEVER ran out of clean underwear (they only wore my socks that once) and I tip the pizza guy every single time. Obviously I’ve got this marketing thing down–he’s a shoe-in to buy a copy of my book.
You should also know that I managed to write spectacular prose, even when sleep deprived. My oldest son Jamison has made a huge life change and is now a 4th grade student at The Kildonan School (a magical, mystery land for kids with dyslexia). He’s doing fantastic: his reading has improved, his self-esteem has rocketed, he’s learning to ride horses and he’s a kick-ass mountain biker. (I can say that because I write for Young Adults, right?) The one downside we’ve experienced, was the 4 hrs he spent on the bus every day–the bus picked him up at 6am. But never fear, because of the diverse platform I’ve developed and my powers of persuasion, I was able to get Jamie’s bus route switched. This cut off almost 2 hrs from his daily commute. (Additional good news–I think the Superintendant and the Board of Education would gladly buy my book in order to shut me up. Can you see the potential sales?)
My other two boys, Ty (2nd grade) and Aidan (Kindergarten) are also doing fantastic at Fishkill Elementary. This year we researched every detail of the Scholastic Book Fair. Working in tandem, we heavily pushed books by SCBWI and Blue Board authors. As you can see, I’m very aware of the importance of networking and helping out my fellow writers. Additionally, all three boys are now blue belts in Jujitsu, have scored goals during soccer games and can do many amazing acrobatic tricks and hip-hop moves. I’m pretty convinced that they would add tremendous appeal to any author event.
Recently, John and I were fortunate enough to wish on a falling star. Obviously I’m still waiting for my wish to come true (hint, hint), but John has wonderful news! He’s been hired as a Managing Director at Goldman Sachs. We are so proud of him. It was really hard for him to leave E&Y (he loved it there) but he plans on staying close with all his old friends and hopes to make new ones too. Right now things are a little crazy, but I’m sure, in time, he would be more than willing to hand out TOUCHING THE SURFACE swag.
My mom (Jean) is doing well and although she still struggles with joint pain, it benefits her to be active. Trying to be helpful, I have arranged for her to be on “grandmother duty” in January. I’m excited already. Can’t wait to see all my friends at the NY SCBWI Conference! I’m also hoping she’d like to stretch her limbs a little in August—I hear LA is amazing.
My brother Terry and his girlfriend Amber are also very happy and doing well. Amber is a pediatric nurse and continues to be very helpful as a reader, even though she has to deal with kids all day. Terry is keeping me on my toes by switching jobs. He’s no longer driving all over several counties, so I guess I’m going to have to nix the car magnet idea. Because he’s the best little brother in the world, you can count on him to pitch in anyway he’s able. Hmmmm… He’s still a volunteer member at the firehouse–perhaps he could talk to them about the magnets. (I’ve always wanted to see my name in lights.)
My mother-in-law (Joanne) has continued on as the head secretary at the middle school. (I don’t need to highlight the implications of that one.) She was considering an early retirement, but it’s hard to walk away from a gaggle of hormonal pre-teens. To keep things quiet, I’ve suggested that students waiting in her office would benefit from the implementation of a supplementary YA reading program. She’s looking into it.
The Lanes (Laura, Justin, Kyle and Jessica) are on their way home for Christmas, so of course the whole family is excited. It isn’t often we get visitors all the way from St. Louis (aka my primary remote fan site).
Last but not least, we have a wedding!!!!! Chris and Tom are tying the knot the day after Christmas. We are sooooo thrilled to welcome Tom and his two children, Kristin and Nick, into the family. (What luck–a tween and teen reader!) We love them already and look forward to celebrating this wonderful day with them.
Well, I’ve already had to reduce my font and narrow my margins, so I guess its time to go. The good news is that its only one page and its in easy to read Times New Roman. I’m hoping you have a Happy Holiday and a good sense of humor.
Love~
Kim and her Fan Club Members…John, Jamison, Ty and Aidan
Tags: christmas, query
As many of you know, in addition to being a writer, I’m also a dancer. I danced from the age of three until I went to college. There I dabbled, very briefly, with a dance club and then I didn’t dance any more and I missed it. I missed it for a l-o-n-g time.
This was how I started…
Just like with my writing, I had a dream. I wanted to be a dancer–because honestly, as a profession–"dancer/YA novelists" just rock *grin* So what happened? How could two things that mean so much to me get pushed to the wayside? The honest truth? I was…
While I was a good dancer, my body type wasn’t what was typical of the profession at the time.
*Please don’t judge me for my really bad 80’s hair.
I remember going to an audition for the local Nutcracker and wanting to die a thousand deaths. I STOOD OUT–and not in a good way. It was humiliating. That was BEFORE I even got to the dancing. That one incident stopped me from taking dance seriously in college: even though I loved it. I didn’t believe that I was good enough. Maybe I didn’t have to shoot for the stars–to try to be a professional. But I wonder where the journey would have taken me if I’d just minored in dance. I think I lost something by being afraid. I watch SYTYCD and witness the passionate dancers who break glass ceilings every season and it makes me a little sad that I NEVER took chances.
But what about writing? What was my excuse? Aren’t all body types welcome in that profession? Yes, but I was incapacitated by a different kind of exposure. I didn’t have a lot of confidence in who I was on the inside and writing was a great way to work through that until I realized that *gasp* other people would actually read what I’d written and get a birds eye view of what was on the inside of me. Do you see a pattern here? I kept writing–but I stopped writing from that deep place inside and when I did–the writing lost its magic. Without the magic…it also fell to the way side. Sadly, my soul spent a lot of time shriveling up and looking like a lint covered raisin that you might find in the cushions of a couch. Attractive, huh?
Lucky for me, this happened…
It shouldn’t seem lucky to have your father die of cancer and well, we all know that that wasn’t actually the lucky part. The up side to the biggest tragedy in my life was that my Dad gifted me with some extra courage before he left. RELATED BLOG POST.
After he died, I could no longer contain the truth. My truth. I began to write. I began to dance. I began to live.
Today I’ve written a YA novel called TOUCHING THE SURFACE. I’m looking for the right agent and I can picture my book on the shelves of bookstores and libraries. Book two the OPPOSITE OF GRAVITY is coming alive. I’m proud to say I have grown as a writer. Today I take dance classes. They challenge me, they inspire, they make me feel things. I also teach Combo classes to 3 and 4 year olds. They are the cherry on my sundae.
I’ve joined Workshop, where I’m ironically dancing with my target Young Adult audience LOL! They make me feel old, they make me feel wise, they make me feel welcome. Together we stretch…and isn’t that what its all really about anyway?
Last Sunday, the elementary school that two of my kids attend, had a fund raiser at the Poughkeepsie Barnes & Noble.
I’m a really big fan of my local B&N. My friend and fellow critique partner Linda Hanlon (a member of C’RAP–Children’s ‘Riters Always Procrastinate) works there and she is awesome–plus some. Additionally they also host my local SCBWI Shop Talk meetings and this group has been very instrumental in helping me grow as a writer and connect with other writers. (Love you guys.) So,when given a better than good reason to come here…
(*Five points if you can find my Hubby and boys in the picture *grin*)
I jumped at the chance. Buying books is even better when I know that every purchase I make supports great authors in my industry AND puts money directly into my local elementary school. This, my friends, is called a NO BRAINER!
First up was the Kindergarten Christmas Concert. Talk about an instantaneous crowd. You could’ve eaten these little elves up with a spoon.
This one is my little elf. Of course he’s hanging with his fantastic teacher Mary Turi. Can you tell that he’s a ham bone? Over the course of the afternoon here were a lot of other performances by the different grades and groups. Everyone was spectacular, but i wasn’t taking pictures so where was I??? Raiding the shelves–of course.
In addition to stories being read, a game of Who’s Smarter Than a 5th Grader with Principal Dr. McNally, we also got to admire the beautiful student art work. It really was a wonderful community event.
The whole family spent time browsing and picking out books, but it was my oldest son who tugged at my heart strings. He’s 9 years old and dyslexic and a huge lover of books. He leaned over and tapped me on the shoulder. He wanted to get books that he could read but he wanted them to be good books. Translation: He wanted his reading level to be commiserate with his interests and comprehension level. I could feel myself getting tense. He wanted books that make him feel good, that empower him. He loves listening to audio books and he loves it when I read to him, but he wants a piece of this passion for himself and as someone who needs books, I understood him completely.
This was not going to be any easy task. We’ve done this dig and search before and the pickings are slim to none. Then we found something new called Top Readers…
He is starting at level one, but the books progress up to level four and they are full of well illustrated, interesting nonfiction topics that immediately captured his interest.
His face lit up and he grabbed a stack off the shelf. He sat down in an empty aisle and read the Big Cats book before we made it to the check out counter. Thank you Barnes & Noble for stocking those books–if you have any doubts about how important they were to my son, look at where he chose to have his picture taken–in the YA a section. You made him feel that big.
