Great minds think alike?

I stumbled upon a blurb in today’s Chicago Sun-Times that best-selling author Sue Miller (whose Inventing the Abbotts became a major motion picture) will be making an appearance in Chicago on Sunday to tape a radio show for WFMT-FM (98.7) that’s called “Writers on the Record.” But that’s not what grabbed my eye. What captured my attention is the title of Miller’s latest novel, Lost in the Forest. Sounds strikingly, if not hauntingly, familiar, doesn’t it?

As my limited number of faithful readers know, a little over three years ago I embarked on a journey to try and get my first novel, some four years in the making, published. That novel, of course, is titled Lost in the Ivy. The road to publishing was a decidedly bumpy one with many twists and turns along the way.

And now, with Lost in the Ivy on the verge of being released by an independent publisher, I have encountered another fork in the road. There’s another novel with a nearly identical title from a major publishing powerhouse and big-name author.

So, I’m left to wonder, is this latest twist of fate in my long trip through the publishing foliage a positive one or a negative one. I guess I can only hope that even a few of those who find their way out of Miller’s Forest will take a side excursion into my Ivy.

The Write Stuff

There's a romantic notion about fiction writing that I'm going to dispel.

Fiction writing is not rose petals, bubble baths, Dom Perignon and tropical breezes. It is more dandelions, cold showers, Boone's Farm and Midwestern wind slaps.

Fiction writers, it seems to me, are, by definition, escapists. They possess the ability to put themselves and, in turn, their readers, in a different place or time. Perhaps that's why readers have false impressions of the writer's life. They wrongly assume that the writer must have lived that life in order to have written about it.

There are, of course, writers who do lead interesting lives and are able to write about it. But most of those are called non-fiction writers or travel writers.

I started thinking about the romantic notion of the fiction writer's life late last night as I was weeding through my first novel, Lost in the Ivy, for the final time. There I was, moments away from sending off a story seven years in the making, and the last thing I did before giving it up for good to the printers was pick out inverted apostrophes and double-hyphens.

It was then that I realized that fiction writing is oftentimes a tedious, laborious process -- one that we often take to bed with us, leading to many a sleepless night. That's not even getting into the cumbersome hours upon hours invested in the selling of a manuscript and the piles upon piles of rejections. And then if you do sell it, there's the hours upon hours and dollars upon dollars invested in marketing it -- just to sell a few copies. Insert a sigh here.

Why then do we do it? Why do we voluntarily put ourselves through this writer's wringer, squeezing away all of that precious time that could be spent doing something else? Certainly we're not doing it for the wealth and fame. There are thousands of fiction writers and only a handful of them have achieved any true riches or notoriety.

We do it because there's nothing else we'd want to do more. We write because it's in our blood. It's our passion. It's our love. It's who we are.

There are rewards. There's adventure and travel to exotic places, without ever having to leave your home. And there's always the thrill and excitement that comes with actually seeing your words in print.

But the rewards are few and far between and you have to work incredibly hard to obtain them. It seems to me that these rewards are really just icing on the cake. They are something to reach for during those tough times, when the writing itself becomes laborious. Over the long haul, it's that love of writing that sustains us.

Okay, so maybe I didn't dispel that romantic notion at all.

From Crib To Cubicle

The Toddler is fast approaching that dreaded age of two. The “terrible twos” – known to strike fear into the hearts of all parents – is that developmental period when the child you once knew can suddenly seem like an alien creature.

I’ve already detected some not-so-subtle changes in The Toddler’s personality.

Some of the changes are charming. There’s a silliness that wasn’t there before. You see it in his eyes when he makes a goofy facial expression or mimics his Dah-dee.

Other changes are heartwarming. There’s a connection that wasn’t there before. You can feel it when he greets you with a bear hug, clinging to you as if you were the only person in the world.

But then there are those changes that tell you that you’ll be making good friends over the next year with the likes of cabernet, merlot and pinot. This is when you discover that your worst nightmare has come true: your child has been Dilbertized. He’s become your boss.

What I mean by this is that, in many ways, a toddler’s mind works like that of an office manager. He has become management material. Consider:

· Logic is futile. Trying to reason with a two-year-old, much like an office manager, will get you nowhere. You will expend a great deal of energy and it will all be for naught. You will get nothing in return but a blank gaze.

· The answer to every question or suggestion is “No”. If there are two choices given, the answer is still “No”. Even if the suggestion is intended to improve the situation, the answer remains “No.”

· Your language is not their language. Toddler-speak, much like management-speak, amounts to gobbledygook. Attempts at deciphering it will only cause headache. In management-speak, “I don’t disagree” can sometimes be translated to mean, “I disagree.” Similarly, in toddler-speak, “No” can oftentimes be translated to mean, “Yes”. The problem is that you will never know when these alternative translations apply.

I know going into this period of my son’s life that I have a lot of work ahead of me. It will at times be challenging, frustrating, even maddening. And much like in the workplace, I won’t be getting a raise for all the extra effort. But I’m pretty sure that the long-term benefits package is a good one and one day all that hard work will pay off.

For now, though, in parent-speak, “Pass the bottle” no longer refers to The Toddler’s milk but to Dah-dee’s new friends: cabernet, merlot and pinot.

A toast to the “terrible twos”: May they go by quickly.

An Old Joke

An old joke has it that there are two seasons in Chicago: winter and road repair.

That's my introductory explanation for all the road repairs that have been taking place on this Web site for the last few weeks. If you're a frequent traveler on my Web site, you've surely been frustrated by all of the reconfigured driving lanes. I just hope that no one has been lost for good.

The good news is that, unlike Chicago's extended road repair season, the major work on my site is now done. With most of the site design now completed, my goal is to get back to what I really enjoy: writing. This blog and that elusive second novel are next on the agenda.  

Just to keep you updated on what I have done recently with this Web site, you will find on the sidebar a link for my mailing list. This is a way for you to get email updates about this website, my book, personal appearances, etc.

I've also registered a new domain name. Now, in addition to being able to access this site via www.lostintheivy.com, you can also reach it via www.randy-richardson.com. (Unfortunately, my name absent the hyphen is owned by a musician in a band named The Turnstyles.) Two ways to reach the same location.

There have been other small, though not insignificant, alterations that I've made that you may or may not notice. Overall, the goal has been to make this a more professional site, aimed not only at promoting my book but me as an author as well. I hope I've succeeded. Only time will tell.

Last, but certainly not least, I submitted the corrections to my page proofs today. That means that after seven years I can finally--and literally--close the book on Lost in the Ivy. My work on the inside of the book is essentially done. Of course, that doesn't mean the final chapter is written--at least in a metaphorical sense. That won't come until sometime after its publication, which should be in the coming weeks. Hopefully that final chapter will come with a happy ending.

Shameless Self-Promotion

In my day job I am an attorney employed by the federal government. As you may or may not know, federal agencies are authorized to grant awards to their employees to recognize and reward good performance. These awards can take the form of lump-sum cash awards, honorary awards, informal recognition awards, and time off awards.

A quirk of the federal government awards system is that, in most cases, an employee can nominate himself for an award. If you believe that you are deserving on an award, you complete a nomination form, submit it to your supervisor and your nomination then goes to an awards panel for consideration.

I've always lacked the aplomb to exploit this peculiar feature of federal employment. To me, there's something inherently unsettling with nominating yourself for good performance in the workplace. It's one thing to reward yourself for personal accomplishments--like a trip to the Dairy Queen as a reward for choosing the salad instead of the fettuccine Alfredo in the creamy white sauce for dinner. But it's something entirely different to praise yourself for doing a job that you're paid to do.

Next to writing condolences cards, nothing is more difficult for me than to write a praiseworthy assessment of myself. I am truly envious of those who possess that ability. And, believe me, there are many that do. Having worked as a supervisor in the past, I have read many self-nominations. More power to these people that are able to do this. They are working the system while I am not.

That extended introduction is my way of introducing you to the following notice that I received in my inbox from Writers Digest yesterday:

BID FOR BLOGS: We're looking for a few good blogs to highlight in our upcoming "WD" special publication, "Personal Writing." If you keep an online journal, or blog;or if you know of a writer's blog that's particularly well written;send us an e-mail. It may appear in an upcoming issue of "Personal Writing." Please send an e-mail nomination, along with a brief explanation of why you think this blog is exceptional, with "blog" in the subject line to writersdig@fwpubs.com.

Well, you can probably see where this is leading. I lack the ability to self-nominate this blog. But I feel it is my duty to inform others of this opportunity for a little free exposure. And if anyone out there thinks this blog is deserving of some special recognition, and is willing to take a few minutes to compose an email nomination for it, well, I'd be humbled and thankful.

As long as I'm on the topic of shameless self-promotion, you will find on the sidebar yet another new addition. This one is called Appearances, and it is my official 2005 tour schedule. As of today, there's just one confirmed stop on this tour. But, I assure you, many more will be added in the coming weeks and months. So, as always, stay tuned. I may be coming to your town.