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Showing posts with label literature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label literature. Show all posts

Monday, October 26, 2020

A Prolific Spanish Author and the Seven Noble Knights

He should smile, with all the money he made from
writing! Maybe the mustache is too heavy. 
Manuel Fernández y González (1821–1888) used words to gain notoriety and to finance what his contemporaries considered a “bohemian” lifestyle. He wrote dramas, poetry, and more than 300 (300!) novels. Although he doesn’t quite reach the level of infamy of Edward Bulwer-Lytton in English (the “It was a dark and stormy night” author), his Spanish Wikipedia article describes his writing this way: “a feverish imagination, a certain Andalusian grace and genius, excessive verbosity, especially in dialogue… a defining lack of solid learning, bad taste, and a lack of self-criticism.”

Anyone who wrote (or in later years, dictated) 300 novels can’t be hampered by self criticism. King of the episodic novel (novels published in newspapers over the course of several weeks and, only later, bound as a book), Manuel Fernández y González put the words out there. Period. He worked in an atmosphere of incessant creation because he was paid per page. Of course he wrote a lot of dialogue—it fills up a page faster than anything else. Revision or even just reading over what he’d written wouldn't have contributed to the bottom line. It’s unlikely if not impossible for great literature to come out of such an atmosphere, but I can’t help but stand in awe before that way of doing business.

It's inspiring, in a way. The words are out there for the writer to seize!

Some might consider the current self-publishing atmosphere to be similar to the nineteenth-century word machine. I haven't found a way to follow the volume model, so instead I do a lot of revision in an attempt to ensure that the writing is actually good.

The only reason I've heard of Manuel Fernández y González is that one of his 300 novels was Los siete infantes de Lara (1853), based loosely on the same legend I took inspiration from to write Seven Noble KnightsThe novel is almost 150,000 words in the original, many of them uncalled for. But within that haystack, there are plenty of exciting and amusing needles. Twists and turns and surprises. It was first released to the reading public chapter by chapter in a Madrid newspaper that cost one peseta per issue. 

If I had a lot more time on my hands, I would do an edition of Los siete infantes de Lara and present a "good parts" translation (à la The Princess Bride) here in installments, just like the first time it was published. 

As things stand, there already exists in English a much more carefully researched and developed version of this tale with fewer words, a modern storytelling pace, and irresistible medieval details: Seven Noble Knights. You can get it December 11, or you can preorder it now, while it's the cheapest it will ever be, or, if you're into that kind of thing, pick it up at NetGalley in exchange for a fair review. 

Thanks for sharing my excitement!

Monday, April 4, 2016

The Unconventional Path to Publication with Author Katie O'Rourke

Continuing the celebration of my fellow Kindle Press authors, today I welcome a guest post on the publishing process from women's literary fiction author Katie O’Rourke. Her accomplished novel Finding Charlie is on sale for only 99 cents until April 15.

Katie O'Rourke
A hundred years ago, when I first started to consider writing to get published, I did the research on how it was done. I bought a copy of The Writer's Market, worked on crafting the perfect query letter, mailed out manila envelopes with sample chapters and SASE (self-addressed stamped envelopes), and collected numerous rejection letters while I waited for a literary agent to discover me.

Now the process has changed a bit, with most agencies accepting email queries. I've perfected my pitch and my rejection letters have gotten nicer. I've had many requests for full manuscripts, more specific advice and encouragement. I even spoke on the phone with an agent from one of the leading literary agencies in New York.

Somehow, these rejections hit me harder than the form letters of my past. I still don't have an agent, but I have three published books. I used to think my path to publication was unusual, but when I talk to other published authors, they all have a different story to tell.

With my first book, Monsoon Season, my publisher found me. I had posted my work on an online writers' site called Authonomy. The publisher was a new imprint of an established company and I hired a literary agent to look over my contract. (Best $100 I ever spent.) Sales were really good, but I didn't like how they handled the release of my second novel, so I got out of that contract and published on my own. They've since merged with Little, Brown and I've been much happier as they continue to sell Monsoon Season.


My second book, A Long Thaw, was released in 2014 under my own imprint. This book sells fewer copies than the first (so far), but I have complete control over how it's marketed and I get daily sales reports about how it's doing. I think this has been a great way for me to compare each method and see what matters to me. Is it reader response? Sales? Cover design?


I entered my latest book Finding Charlie, into a crowdsource competition and it was selected for publication by Kindle Scout at the end of last year. I had been slightly apprehensive about entering into this deal because in some ways, it sounded like the worst parts of my previous experiences: the independent struggle of self publishing combined with the lack of control of traditional publishing. But I have been pleasantly surprised. I had creative control of the cover and book content, but help from a professional editor. The team has kept me involved, returns emails promptly, and I can depend on them for the kind of promotional deals I have going on now: Finding Charlie is currently just 99 cents!

My experience with publication has been diverse and educational. I like it that way. Publishing has changed a lot and the path is no longer as cookie cutter, if it ever was. Sometimes publishers come before agents; sometimes agents never show up. From what I hear, it may be that my path is just as unconventional as the next person’s.


Thanks for being here, Katie.


Get all the latest from Katie at katieorourke.com.

Monday, May 26, 2014

Two New Roles

Ever since I got my new job in educational publishing, I've been trying to cut back on other projects. I haven't been too successful at that yet. On the contrary, I have two exciting pieces of news!

First, I'll be helping the fine folks at The Worcester Review with my sharp copyediting skills. The Worcester Review is an amazing annual publication of literature and criticism and I couldn't be prouder. See the overqualified staff (including me) here.

Second, as we were finishing up our latest Loose Leaves release, I had the opportunity to gain a translation credit. I did the English version of Pablo Neruda's "El hijo," which brings Year of the Poets to such a poignant close, with unbridled enthusiasm. I hope the enthusiasm "translated" to an authentic reading experience. Year of the Poets is now available in ebook at Kindle, Nook and Kobo and in softcover at Amazon and wherever fine books are sold.


Monday, February 17, 2014

Winter's Tale Then and Now


I read Helprin's Winter'sTale the year before I graduated college on the recommendation of my thesis advisor in preparation for writing my thesis (which turned out to be the novella Tree/House). I'm sure it was recommended because of my interest in magical realism, but my reading of it went much farther than academic analysis, and like a lot of readers of this book, I experienced an enduring, gasping devotion to it long after I forgot what it was about. (If I ever knew. It's special in its inability to be pinpointed.) Even now, having moved a million times, I have Winter's Tale with me. I've gotten rid of a lot of stuff, but's non-negotiable. I tried to read other Helprin works, but they never worked out. Maybe I can only go through such a complex, transformative experience once.

Go to the microfiche for the really amazing discoveries.
Fast forward to 2014, and there's a movie of this unwieldy masterpiece. It was such a thrill when the first trailers came out. To think, someone dared to bring Winter's Tale to the cinema! I doubted it could be done — and apparently, so did everyone else! The reviews have been terrible.

I went to see it on opening day (Valentine's Day — thanks, sweetheart!) and the film is lovely to look at and highly sentimental, a perfect Valentine. If it weren't compared to the book, it wouldn't be judged so harshly. In fact, I'm not sure the two should be considered together because this goes beyond the usual cutting necessary for the visual medium. It's so simplified and reprocessed, it's hardly the same story at all.

I have personal reasons for being okay with the movie version being so much more linear and to the point. When I read the book, it encouraged me to see the world in a complicated, ritualized way I was already cultivating. But I went to see the film with my one true love, and our life is simple and our love is uncomplicated, so both art forms were a perfect match for the way things were going with me at the time.

A bad reason to like a movie that doesn't deliver even half the messages of its book? I don't think so. See the Winter's Tale movie with your true love and you'll see what I mean.

Monday, February 3, 2014

The New York Literary Scene

On a frigid (though less cold than it had been the past few days) night in the East Village (a place I'd never been before in my life despite a few jaunts to Manhattan), we approached a bar (which is not something my husband and I would normally do) that held the promise of a fine literary evening (which it delivered).

When my friend and (now long-distance) critique group co-founder Reneé Bibby mentioned that she would be in New York City doing a reading, I was still living in North Carolina, but I planned and hoped that I would be at least somewhat established in New England by January 26, the night the reading happened. And I was! My husband and I had to drive for a while and then take a train for quite a while, and as it turned out, we didn't get home until 2 a.m., but it was a small effort to attend such a momentous event.

I'm sure it's going to be far from one of a kind, however. Reneé is so talented, there will be many more publications and many more readings. This first one was in honor of the branch sites of the Writers Studio, an institution that promotes the craft of writing and produces award winners like so many snowflakes. Reneé teaches lucky students at the Tucson branch. (See an excerpt and a link to her first publication at her site.)

My husband and I were wearing all the layers of clothes we could manage to sit down in, and it was a good thing, because the KGB Bar is a little walk from a subway stop The breeze wasn't warm enough to have anything gentle about it, but we were aided by a new app called Street View, suggested by my brother, another talented writer. I had heard of this bar before, but would later learn why we were headed there: it's often the host to cozy, classy literary events. In the gloom of 6:30 pm, we found the KGB Bar by its neon lights and ascended the outer stairs.

From there, the only real choice was to follow the urging arrow up more stairs. Already I was put in mind of that percolating atmosphere I encountered at college readings and in many parts of Iowa City — a sort of shabby chic irony fueled by burgeoning creativity, posters, and peeling paint. The bar itself is smaller than my new apartment and crowded with tables and USSR paraphernalia, most importantly, perhaps, a statue of Leon Trotsky behind the bar. The walls are painted thickly red with black accents. Reneé was perceptive enough to compare it to being inside a heart.

After a happy reunion with Reneé, my husband and I sat with some of the many Tucson writers who showed up to support her. I knew some of them, so it was an unexpectedly comprehensive and fun blast from the past. I'm so impressed with the enthusiastic set of supporters Reneé has! Even when I gave readings in college I only ever had one or two people cheering and whooping, but here it seemed like 75% of the audience was there for one special person, and I know I was one of them.

Five people read at a podium with a circle of red Christmas lights behind them. It seemed as if Reneé was the only one tall enough to make a proper halo out of it. All the readings were stellar excerpts from each author's opus, but Reneé's story was the most achingly beautiful, the most painstakingly perfect. I know firsthand that every line had been labored over in draft after draft for about two years, and that effort of love resulted in something deceptively seamless, smooth, and surprising.

I'm definitely a city girl. That day, I felt energized and creative in spite of a draining journey that required three days to recover from. You just don't get that spark from anywhere but a good city. Or I don't, anyway. What a wonderful welcome back to the Northeast!




Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Magical Realism

The genre "magical realism" is is mystery to a lot of readers. While some would lump it in with fantasy, I studied it in an academic context and most of the magical realism I've come across really belongs with literature.

In magical realism as I understand and write it, the reader enters a world very similar to our own -- either contemporary or historical -- but with at least one element that is impossible, unlikely, or undiscovered as yet in our world, and which is accepted as everyday truth with no explanation needed within the world of the story.

A lot of readers are really piqued by the aspect of "no explanation" of the unusual elements, but that's the part I love best! For me, real life is pretty darn inexplicable at times, and I love writing that embraces that.

Popular authors of magical realism include Isabel Allende, Alice Hoffman, and many others (largely Latin American). Have you read any magical realism? Did you love it, or did it frustrate you?

My best example of magical realism is my story "Middle Awash in Talent." It's told with the wry humor of an extraordinarily self-centered and unreliable narrator whose sister is "talented," which is to say, she has magical healing powers and the ability to move objects using only her mind (telekinesis). The talents are rare, but are a well-known element of the world in which the story takes place. They have a history of government control, etc, which never has to be fully explained, only hinted at.

I first excerpted "Middle Awash in Talent" a year ago for Six Sentence Sunday. The narrator meets her love interest for the first time in this longer excerpt. Another excerpt, which I have indeed changed substantially since I posted, is here. Mainly you get the tone and narrator's voice from these segments, but I hope you enjoy them! I've finished the first (long) part of this story, and I hope to share it with you in full very soon.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

New Place to See Tree/House and Great New Writers

The Electronic Text and Literature Cloud is the place to go to find out about independent authors you might never have otherwise heard of. Each title is showcased on an understated, tasteful page full of links to more information and, of course, where to buy it. I've had the honor of Tree/House being the first featured text in the "Literary" genre. Check it out here!

And check back with eTLC often for buried treasure that deserves more attention!

Friday, April 22, 2011

On This Day in 1616: Miguel de Cervantes

We have to celebrate Miguel de Cervantes's life on the anniversary of his death because his birthday hasn't come down to us with any certainty. Here is my tribute to a true literary inspiration.
Miguel de Cervantes’s life was just as extraordinary as any of his far-fetched plots. He was the middle child of seven, born in the university town of Alcalá de Henares on or about October 9, 1547. His father was a surgeon, a common occupation for a man of good family name who didn’t have the money for an education or leisure. The family’s income was meager at best, and whether Cervantes’s father was a poor practitioner or just an adventuresome spirit, he moved his family all over Spain. There are records of the family being in Alcalá, Valladolid, Córdoba, Cabra, Sevilla, and Madrid between the years 1547 and 1566. The family tried to keep up appearances by hiring servants when they moved to new cities. The servants never lasted long, and once or twice, Miguel’s father went to prison for debts.

It is said that the young Miguel had to satisfy his appetite for literature by reading scraps of printed paper he found in the street. His education was as erratic as his location, and all together he probably had six years of formal schooling, which he received from Jesuit priests. The knowledge he displays in his work far surpasses six years of primary education. He must have read whenever he could.

In 1567, Miguel published his first poem, which praised the queen, who had recently given birth to a daughter. Upon the queen’s death two years later, more of Cervantes’s poems in her praise were published in a collection.

In 1569, when Antonio de Sigura insulted his sister, Miguel wounded him in a duel in the royal palace, the penalty for which would have been to lose his right hand and be exiled from the kingdom for ten years. He fled the punishment and joined a Spanish regiment in Italy while he waited for the law to forget his offense.

Cervantes admired soldiers all his life, saying that there was no profession more honorable nor more profitable. To be a soldier meant to serve God fighting against the Turks who were trying to conquer Europe. Miguel was joined by his brother Rodrigo, and together they participated in the Battle of Lepanto, a naval victory much celebrated at the time. On the day of the battle, Miguel was sick with a fever and ordered to stay below. However, the call to duty was too strong. He demanded to be put where the action was thickest. He emerged from the battle with a serious chest wound and the loss of the use of his left hand. This wound, though debilitating, made him proud for the rest of his life, like a badge of honor.

He convalesced in Italy for six months, where he must have done a lot of his reading, and then participated in two more battles before he was sent home. Both he and his brother Rodrigo were going home on the galley Sol in 1571 when the ship was captured by Barbary pirates, and the brothers were sold as slaves in Algiers. The letters of recommendation Miguel was carrying on his way home made the Algerians think he was rich, and they set his ransom outlandishly high. He remained captive in Algiers for five years, during which time his sisters gave up their dowries and his mother begged the government in futile efforts to bring the brothers home. Conditions in captivity were harsh. Most prisoners were chained in dark, filthy rooms, and they had to work for their keep, performing any number of onerous physical tasks under strict guard.

Miguel attempted to escape four times. No one knows why he didn’t receive the official punishment for attempted escape: death by torture. The Algerian officials were noted for their cruelty, often lashing, impaling, and hanging offenders such as Cervantes by the feet until dead. However, they let him off every time with only a short prison sentence. Biographers suggest that they were impressed with Miguel’s courage and generosity. When questioned about the accomplices to his grand-scale escape plans, he never betrayed his collaborators, but asked to be punished alone.

When his family miraculously gathered up enough money to ransom one, but only one, of the brothers, Miguel allowed that brother to be Rodrigo. Finally, he was ransomed by a friar from the Order of Nuestra Señora de la Merced, which specialized in the rescue of Christian captives in Africa. As Don Quijote says, “no treasure the Earth contains nor the sea conceals can be compared to” the liberty known after imprisonment. Cervantes returned to his home country, having been away twelve years. He had left a criminal in danger of losing his right hand, and returned a hero without the use of his left hand.

Despite his numerous talents, he could not find gainful employment to support the family that had gone bankrupt trying to bring him home. He applied for a post in the Americas and was rejected. He published his first novel, La Galatea, a pastoral romance that had very little success; and a few plays that received mild public response. In spite of these disappointments, Cervantes felt optimistic enough at this time to take a wife. Some think he must have married Catalina de Palacios Salazar for her dowry, but she was his match in finances as well as social rank. The couple never had children.

Sometime after his wedding, Miguel secured a job as a king’s commissary, collecting provisions for the Armada. It probably wasn’t a very amusing job, because it involved long hours of riding alone through Andalusia, and when he did see people, they weren’t hospitable because he was there to take their grain. For a meager wage, he had the right to jail people who resisted his authority. He once exercised this right on a sacristan, and was excommunicated from the church. He later had the excommunication lifted because of the social impediments it represented.

Cervantes was often accused of financial chicanery because people were so reluctant to give up their livelihood in exchange for a receipt, but more often than not, Miguel was able to justify himself in a court of law. In 1597, someone’s bad arithmetic landed him in debtor’s prison. He was 50 years old and had more than his share of misfortunes. Rather than rotting away in prison, however, he took advantage of a time when he had no other duties and began writing one of the world’s literary masterpieces, El ingenioso hidalgo don Quijote de la Mancha. The work is a window into his thought. The tale of an aged hidalgo who goes insane reading too many books of chivalry shows the reader his ideals in contrast with a Golden Age Spain at its best and worst. The hero’s noble endeavors turn into disheartening mistakes, just as Cervantes’s youthful dreams and heroic deeds turned into disappointments and injustice in his maturity.

After seven months, he was released from prison, but was from then on unemployed. He traveled, following the roving Spanish court, wrote, and made friends with many of the literary figures of the time.

In 1605, Cervantes sold Don Quijote to the printer Juan de la Cuesta for a small price. There were no royalties for writers, so even though Don Quijote was a phenomenal success, requiring two printings in the first year, and was translated into all the major European languages, he remained poor. However, this was the turning point. Don Quijote possessed the nation. There was not a person in all Spain who didn’t know the story, for those who could not read had it read to them. In the second part, Cervantes writes with great humor about the success of the first, creating another level of metaliterature in addition to the already stacked layers.

Now Cervantes could spend his time writing instead of looking fruitlessly for work. He had another success, The Exemplary Novels, a collection of long stories that demonstrate the social and moral decay of the time, a true witness of the fall of the largest Western empire the world had ever seen.

Toward the end of his life, deaths in his family, poverty, and failing health caused Cervantes to devote himself more fully to the church. In 1609 he joined the Brotherhood of the Slaves of the Most Holy Sacrament, saying that he was at an age when “one doesn’t trifle with the life to come.”

In 1614, a continuation of the adventures of the ingenious knight appeared, but it hadn’t been written by Cervantes! Parody sequels of this kind, which capitalized on the success of a book while at the same time making fun of it, were common at the time, but this was especially offensive because in the prologue, the author of the spurious book, Alonso Fernández de Avellaneda, insults Cervantes personally. While he had license to lash out verbally against Avellaneda, Cervantes reacted with dignity in the prologue to the real second part of Don Quijote, published in 1615, saying, “Let his sin be his punishment. With his bread let him eat it, and there let it rest.”

Though the second part was even more successful than the first, the novel wasn’t an accepted literary genre at the time, and Cervantes remained on the outskirts of the literary world. The merit of his work was not critically recognized until long after his death. He was frustrated that he wasn’t considered “great,” like many of his friends, but he wasn’t bitter. He was always able to joke about his supposed inadequacies, such as in Viaje al Parnaso, an epic poem in which all the great poets are gathered and Cervantes isn’t invited.

The last months of his life were relatively serene, characterized by illness and time to reflect. He knew that he had done well by his own standard, but was respectful that others didn’t share his standard. His only regret appears to have been that he couldn’t go on living, to write all of the other creations he had in his head. With an admirable acceptance of the inevitable, Cervantes died on April 22, 1616, from a prolonged illness he called “dropsy,” but which we would diagnose today as diabetes.

Cervantes probably accepted that not all of life’s questions can be answered. He sometimes leaves ambiguity in his work instead of trying to solve the problems he deliberately sets forth. He presents humans truthfully, with their good, bad, and indifferent qualities. In his re-creation of the story of the ingenious knight, Camino Real, Tennessee Williams sums up Cervantes’s idea: “Life is an unanswered question, but let’s still believe in the importance and dignity of the question.”

Cervantes was a good witness of human nature because he was both an outsider and an insider. He was accepted by society because of his heroics at Lepanto and his two successful books, but was rejected because of his poverty, his time in jail, and his lack of influential friends. The administration he lived under ignored his accomplishments, while severely punishing every minor transgression. A complete insider might have only seen the rosy aspects of society, while an outsider might have rebelled. However, his vagabond life and privations gave him a full perspective of the society in which he lived. Both his life and his work serve as inspirations for writers and people of all professions.

Monday, April 11, 2011

Tree/House Book Club

The Secret Society of Literary Divas of St. Helens, OR loves Tree/House!
Clockwise from left, the Literary Divas who were able to attend the momentous March meeting were Linda, Beth, Patty, Debi, Kay, Kailyn, Nora, Gail, and Mickey.  Oops, I hope I didn't wreck the secret! Many of the ladies read the book on their e-reader devices, and in this picture, we can see sly, brilliant Patty holding up a library edition. Anyone can and should request Tree/House for their local library. It's a great way to support literature at no cost to yourself.



Linda was nice enough to send me this picture and some of the topics the ladies discussed. I use them as a jumping-off point for a discussion on the interpretation of Tree/House, which you can find by clicking here. It will always be available to read as a page in the left-hand column, and I would like to take this opportunity to invite comments from readers to be listed and responded to on that page. Thanks for reading!