Author
Happy to speak about writing, publishing and marketing books at the Inland Northwest Writers’ GuildĀ at 7 PM on Wednesday, 6/15 at Auntie’s Bookstore.
All writers are welcome to attend– especially lightly published and beginning authors!
There’s a punctuation and grammar skills class at 6, for those that want to brush up on their skills and then I’ll be speaking at 7 with plenty of time for Q &A.
Hope to see many fellow scribes!
Running my hands along the spines, I can scarcely believe it– 14 books featuring my stories.
From the first time a writer picks up a pen or pounds out a story on a keyboard we wonder if it will ever be read by more than just a family member, close friend or teacher. Rarely in love with our own words, we weigh, sift, edit and groan over balky transitions and awkward phrases. We look back at our first stories and they sometimes seem like primitive scratches in the sand.
And if we’re really lucky, we find our tribe– a group of supportive readers and writers, who push us to do better and who ask for more
And we celebrate their publications, adding their books to our shelves, always leaving room for the next volume.
How wonderful to take a moment and realize no matter how arduous the journey from idea to print, it is possible to achieve out what every writer longs for– a shelf of our own.
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Even a year after publication, it’s still a thrill to be asked to sign a stack of books! So grateful readers and booksellers are valuing War Bonds and the stories shared within.
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A recent reading at a local Barnes & Noble prompted a slew of interest and phone calls, so I was delighted to stop in and sign more copies.
As we head into Memorial Day weekend I’m even more conscious of the privilege I’ve had in being allowed to share these stories before they were lost.
I feel like “thankful” should be part of my signature.
I don’t know any writers who haven’t at one time or another thought, Why am I writing this? Is anyone even going to want to read it?
Whether you write memoir, fiction, essays or poetry, the words are or should be, uniquely yours– your voice, your character’s voice,Ā your story, their story that you’re trying to tell. And there’s the rub,Ā the risk of the writing life– you feel compelled to tell a story birthed in the isolation of your own mind and heart and send it out into the universe
While wrestling with the organization of my second book, a collection of essays and columns about life, love and raising sons, I’m getting tripped up, and bogged down with second guessing just about everything from the title to the contents of each chapter.It’s hard to have perspective when you’re writing your own life.
Then I remembered something award-winning author Shawn Vestal said at a recent reading of his debut novel Daredevils. Someone asked if it was difficult for him to write from the perspective of Loretta, a 15-year-old girl.Ā Vestal replied that it was actually quite freeing and then added, “Really, the only reservoir you have is your own life.”
Yes! Everything from our wildest flights of imagination to our earliest childhood memories, comes from the same reservoir.
Don’t be afraid to drop your bucket down into its depths and pour out what you find.
Please join me Wednesday for an evening of poetry, prose and Music.
This free event will be at 6:30 at Barnes & Noble, Northtown Mall,Ā 4750 N Division St. in Spokane.
The question took me off guard.
I was chatting with a fellow author whose second book had recently come out and mentioned that I was still doing a lot of readings.
I’ve just begun work on my second book and was wondering how long I should plan on continuing War Bonds events and promotions.
“How long do you want to see your book on the shelves?” she asked.
What a great point! When War Bonds came out last year I was swamped with invitations to do readings and signings. I often did two or three events a week. It’s fantastic to have that much interest in your debut book.
Now, that the invitations have slowed to a more manageable once or twice a month, it feels like a treat to get to talk about my book and to sign copies.
I’m going to keep her question in mind as I continue the lonesome labor on book number two. As long as I receive invitations to speak, I’m going to keep saying yes.
I never want to see a blank spot on bookshelves were War Bonds used to be!
A few weeks ago, I got a nice email from a lady in regards to a recent column. I thanked her for her kind note and for taking the time to write to me.
Soon I received another note from her.
“I recently sent you a a brief email thanking you for a particularly good article, and you graciously replied, which made my day!
I was inspired to purchase War Bonds for my 89-year-old mother for Mother’s Day.”
She then asked if it was possible for me to sign the copy for her mom. When I found out the writer lived near the grocery store where I do my weekly shopping, I offered to meet her there and sign the book.
She showed up with a lilac bouquet– my favorite flower.
And that my friends, is how you turn grocery shopping from a chore to a delight.
Never forget, readers make a writer’s world go ’round!
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If todayās column seems littered with superlatives and exclamation marks, youāll have to pardon my excess. Iām still coming off a literary high.
No, I havenāt been sniffing bookbinding glue, but I am basking in the bookish brilliance of Get Lit! 2016.
April 11-17, Spokane was awash in literary events. Poetry, panels, pie and whiskey, and plenty more were served up at venues across the city.
What began in 1998 as a one-day event filled with literary readings is now a weeklong festival. Conceived as a way for residents to engage with writing and working writers, Get Lit! offers aspiring authors, poets and folks who love reading a variety of ways to learn from, and engage with, published authors.
Best of all, most events are free. However, the festival is like a luscious chocolate cake, youād like to consume it all, but frankly itās just not possible. So itās important to grab a guide and map out the āmust-dosā on your literary list.
This yearās festival featured everything from āSexy Beastsā to āMy Worst Jobā and included dozens of local writers as well as visiting scribes.
One of the highlights for me was the Shawn Vestal/Sam Ligon book launch at the Washington Cracker Building. Vestal read from his debut novel āDaredevilsā; Ligon read from his short story collection, āWonderland,ā as well as from his novel, āAmong the Dead and Dreaming.ā
Jess Walter served as emcee and quipped, āOne middle-aged white guy introducing two other middle-aged white guys. Guess thatās why they call this the Cracker Building.ā
I had to miss one of the most popular Get Lit! attractions: Pie and Whiskey, which is just what it sounds like ā an evening of pie and whiskey featuring short readings by authors whose stories feature, youāve got it ā pie and whiskey.
Fortunately, I got to hear one of those stories when I served on a panel with author Elissa Washuta. Her summary of the Tinder dating site was witty, poignant and razor sharp.
The panel āThe Nuts and Bolts of Creative Nonfictionā was at Spokane Community College and also featured author Julie Riddle. Both sessions were filled with a mix of students, faculty and community members.
The audience was engaged, attentive and asked great questions that prompted interesting discussions.
The Convention Center served as the Get Lit! hub. I accidentally wandered into the wrong area where some kind of business conference was concluding. I asked an usher for directions to the Get Lit! panel I was looking for and one of the conference leaders overheard. He said, āGet Lit? That sounds a lot more fun than what we did today.ā
āIt is!ā I said, and promptly invited him and his friends.
Kris Dinnison, Stephanie Oakes, Sharma Shields and I had fun serving on the āQueens of the Page: Debut Authors Tell Allā panel. Iām not sure if we really told all, but we told quite a bit.
A scheduling conflict meant I had to miss Garth Steinās reading at the Fox. This was a disappointment, but in some ways a relief. I really wanted him to autograph my copy of his best-selling book, āThe Art of Racing in the Rain,ā but I didnāt relish explaining why the edges of my copy are bright blue.
Iād borrowed the book from the library awhile ago. It absolutely captivated me, so when I traveled to my writing retreat, I tucked it in my bag. Some cleaning supplies were also in the bag. Somewhere en route, the toilet bowl cleaner tipped over and splashed āThe Art of Racing in the Rain.ā
Did you know toilet bowl cleaner may clean stains off toilets, but leaves stains on books? Neither did I. Neither did the librarian who took the cash I offered as I purchased the now-bluish book.
Thankfully, only the edges were blued and I got to weep my way to the finish of this beautiful novel. I think Stein would have been happy to sign my copy, but unless he returns to next yearās Get Lit!, Iāll never know.
Cindy Hval, Spokesman Review, April 24, 2016
The Patriot Guard Riders stood silently, their flags held aloft as a light rain fell at St. Maryās Catholic Church in Spokane Valley on Saturday.
Theyād come to honor Charles Boyer, 95, who died April 15.
As a 21-year-old sailor stationed at Naval Air Station Kaneohe, Boyer had earned membership into an exclusive club: the Pearl Harbor Survivors Association.
Though he was an aviation machinistās mate, Boyer was assigned to service and drive the Navyās trucks at Kaneohe. The morning of Dec. 7, 1941, heād just dropped off some sailors at church and was on his way back, when he saw several khaki-colored planes approaching fast and low.
āI said, āLook at the show the Armyās putting on! Then I saw the big olā red meatballs on the wings of the plane and I said, āArmy, hell!ā ā he recalled. āThe planes were coming over us, shooting at us and dropping bombs.ā
With the truck still moving, Boyer dove out and took shelter under another truck parked a few yards away.
He stayed under that truck until the enemy planes passed, then he ran to a large tin shed that served as a garage for the trucks at Kaneohe.
āTime seemed like forever,ā he said. āI was pretty scared.ā
He wasnāt the only one frightened. He told of a fellow sailor on guard duty who shot at a fence post. āHe swore it moved,ā he recalled, grinning.
But he didnāt smile when he talked about the results of the attack. Twenty Americans died on the base at Kaneohe that day, and as for the aircraft ā āthey did a hell of job,ā Boyer said. āThey got every warplane on Kaneohe.ā
Four years and one day after the attack on Pearl Harbor, he married Irene Britton. They celebrated their 70th anniversary in December.
After 20 years, Boyer retired as a chief petty officer, but he couldnāt quite leave Navy life behind. He spent the next 22 years working in civil service for the Navy.
Upon moving to Spokane Valley in 1998, he joined the Lilac City Chapter of the national Pearl Harbor Survivors Association. He was especially close to fellow survivor John (Sid) Kennedy, whom heād met in 1941 at aviation machinist school in San Diego. Later they were both sent to Kaneohe. Kennedy died July 7, 2015, and at his funeral Boyer told a friend, āI guess he went on ahead without me.ā
At one time there were 125 active members of the Lilac City Chapter of the Pearl Harbor Survivors Association. Only one, Ray Garland, 93, remains.
Garland attended Boyerās funeral on Saturday.
āItās kind of a lonely feeling,ā he said.
Carol Edgemon Hipperson, author of the Ray Daves biography, āRadioman: An Eyewitness Account of Pearl Harbor and World War II in the Pacific,ā also feels Boyerās loss keenly.
āCharlie was much like Ray Daves to me,ā she said. āOf all the Pearl Harbor survivors those two were the ones most like my own father: kind, gentle, soft-spoken, humble, voracious readers, towering intellects.ā
She admired his cheerful spirit and compassion.
āMost people get cranky when they donāt feel well or things donāt go right. Charlie never did. It was just his nature to smile and speak softly to everyone around him.ā
Boyerās son, Steve, agreed.
Three weeks ago as his father signed papers for hospice care, Steve Boyer choked up. His dad noticed his distress and said, āDonāt feel bad. Iāve had a great life ā and a very, very long life.ā
While many knew Charlie Boyer as a Pearl Harbor survivor, to his son, he was just Dad.
āI didnāt even know he was a Pearl Harbor survivor until he moved to Spokane Valley,ā he said. āHe never talked about it. He was just my dad and always will be. Iām going to miss him.ā
A year after the publication of War Bonds: Love Stories From the Greatest Generation, the book signings and speaking events start to blur together.
I’ve met so many wonderful people– many of them WWll veterans, who share their memories of their time of service.
But at this week’s event something amazing happened. At every reading I share from Chapter One: Band of Gold. It’s the story of Jerry and Nancy Gleesing.
When they were expecting their first child, Jerry, who served with the 15th Air Force, 459th Bomb Group, was shot down and had to bail out over Hungary. He was quickly captured and spent 3 months as a prisoner of war in Mooseburg, Germany.
It’s a moving story that often prompts tears– including my own. As I read, I noticed an older gentleman take of his glasses and wipe tears as they streamed down his face.
He waited in line to by a book. “My brother was there,” he said. “At the POW camp in Mooseburg. He was on that plane.”
Unbelievable! He looked at the picture below, to see if he could pick out his brother, but his eyesight if failing. He had me sign the book for his 90-year-old brother, who’s still alive and resides in California.
I only wish Jerry Gleesing was still here, so I could tell him I found one of his crew.
Cindy Hval 