Monday Earworm: Stevie Wonder

This might be my favorite Stevie Wonder song? Not sure. There are so many good ones to choose from. For instance, I’ll always have a special place in my heart for “I Just Called to Say I Love You” because my godmother is a huge fan of Stevie Wonder’s, and when that song first came out, I called her up and sang it to her just for fun, and it made her day. (I was a little kid, and hearing her excitement at my goofy singing made my day.)

But I love this song more; it always gets me up dancing. It’s a perfect song in that regard. You can find all kinds of really good clips of Stevie playing this song live in concert, on “Sesame Street,” and on “Soul Train,” and all of them are fabulous — especially the one where Prince surprises everyone by joining him onstage live in Paris. But I’m going to just put the album version here.

 

Kristen Bird on Writing

One of my friends and colleagues, Kristen Bird, has just launched her debut novel, The Night She Went Missing, and dear reader, it is wonderful. If you like suspenseful mysteries with strong female characters and a compelling plot set in the otherworldly bubble of elite private schools, then this one is for you.

You’ll hear more from me later about this book, but for today, I’m turning the metaphorical microphone over to Kristen so she can drop some immense wisdom about the writing process. Enjoy.

***

Keep Writing
by Kristen Bird

I wrote my first full-length novel as a creative writing thesis for the final project for my master’s in literature, and I queried it in the days when some literary agents still only wanted mailed submissions. That was almost fifteen years ago. After numerous rejections, I didn’t write much. Instead, I did the kinds of things many adults do: I got a real job (teaching high-school English), I paid bills, I went grocery shopping, I endured infertility treatments, and I had three babies in three years—the last two, twins.

But after all that adulting, I found myself returning to write as a therapeutic outlet. Having an hour to myself to drink coffee and enter another world—one that didn’t ask anything of me—became my escape. From the times my twins were two until they were five, I worked on a historical novel, one that involved tedious—and thrilling, to me—research about the early 1900s in New York City. I would later fall in love with the novel The Golem & The Jinni by Helene Wecker because the setting felt so familiar.

Though it took me years to complete this novel, I wasn’t in a hurry. My kids let me sleep (sometimes), and about once every other week, I would scribble away for an hour or two. I knew I was writing that book for me, though I secretly hoped someone would someday read it. That didn’t keep me from becoming fully invested in the querying process when I finally decided I’d revised the book as much as I knew how. When I started querying this second full-length manuscript, I finally began to understand the slow pace of the publishing industry. I would do equations like this: if I send this query to an agent and that agent takes 6-8 weeks to respond before I send it to another agent who takes 3-6 months to respond, how long before I give up in despair?

With that second full-length manuscript, I had a few bites, a few partial requests, a couple full requests. Some agents told me the writing was good. I didn’t believe them because they also rejected me. Some told me that the whole process of querying is subjective. I didn’t believe that either. One night after receiving a rejection from an agent I idolized, I ended up in my bed sobbing, proclaiming that I was giving up. No more writing. No more querying. I couldn’t face rejection anymore.

That lasted a week because, as writers know, we must write.

For my third full-length manuscript, I decided I would be the person who would keep writing and keep querying until something happened. I hadn’t yet listened to writing podcasts in which published authors often talk about not getting published until their second, third, or ninth novel. I didn’t know that could be normal.

If I was going to keep writing and querying, I knew I would have to write a lot faster than one novel every four or five years. I switched to a contemporary setting and voice, the benefit being that I had a lot less to research, and I decided I would write quickly and revise quickly. My daughters were turning six and nine, which was a game-changer in so many ways. I was finally getting consistent sleep, I was eating full meals without a child throwing a tantrum on the floor, and I was getting to have actual conversations with other grown-ups. I was determined to finish this new project, a contemporary suspense novel, in a few months.

The Night She Went Missing is the book that finally landed me an agent and a publisher, and though the process may look fast to some, it’s been a rather slow but event-filled fifteen years in the making. In the middle of waiting to be published, I’ve had three daughters, taught hundreds of students, and built a life with a great guy. Publishing—along with any other dreams—doesn’t come fast or easy for most writers, including myself, so I’ve learned it’s important to enjoy the life that happens in midst of the waiting—and to keep writing, no matter what.

***

The Night She Went Missing by Kristen Bird, 2022 from Mira Books.
ISBN-10 ‏ : ‎ 0778332101
ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-0778332107

photo by Bess Garison

Kristen Bird lives outside of Houston, Texas with her husband and three daughters. She earned her bachelor’s degree in music and mass media before completing a master’s in literature. She teaches high school English and writes with a cup of coffee in hand. In her free time, she likes to visit parks with her three daughters, watch quirky films with her husband, and attempt to keep pace with her rescue lab-mixes. The Night She Went Missing is her debut novel.

Monday Earworm: Vinx

I’ve got nothing against Van Morrison.

But once at a rock concert, I saw Vinx open for…someone? No idea who. It was the mid-90s. It could have been any stadium act. Maybe Spin Doctors? Depeche Mode? Sting? (Wow, one of these things is not like the other…)

Anyway, he played this cover of “Moondance,” and it was absolutely stunning. Sung without any other instrument than the djembe he was playing at the same time. Astoundingly fabulous.

Happy Valentines Day.  🙂

 

Monday Earworm: En Vogue

I try not to hassle my kids for their love of content on the internet. I had MTV, and my seeming addiction to it did not make my mom particularly happy. I loved it in the 80s when it was new, and I loved it in the 90s before they stopped playing music videos. (Who knew The Real World would usher in such an era of media shlock? It was exciting when it began.)

Anyway, this video was in frequent rotation in the early and mid-90s when it was new, and it’s still fabulous.