Almost Like Christmas Eve
Tomorrow. Tomorrow! (Well, the UK edition you see above doesn't go on sale until March 26th, but you know what I mean. Thank you to Laura Bambrey for the photo.)
I really want to be mindful of how I've grown in the four and a half years since Petty Magic came out, of all that I've learned and grown into. I am better at letting go of outcomes, but I still loved this blog post by Danielle LaPorte on detachment as opposed to non-attachment. We are discussing the Bhagavad Gita in the Hinduism class I'm auditing at Tufts, and every time we touch upon the concept of separating one's actions from the fruit of one's actions I reflect on how perfectly applicable this is in every aspect of our daily lives.
I wrote a book. I hope you enjoy it, although I don't mind if you don't.* The end. Hooray!
* * *
You may have noticed that I have a shiny new "news & events" page. Right now I have readings/signings/panel discussions scheduled in Cambridge (the launch!!! THIS WEEKEND!!!), Philadelphia, New Rochelle (NY), New York City, and Derry, New Hampshire. I really hope you can join me at one of these events, they're all going to be a lot of fun!
But if you live too far away, you can do one (or both) of the following:
1. Join me for a Twitter chat hosted by The Food Duo this Wednesday at 8pm ET!
2. Ask your local independent bookstore if they'd like to check out my book and consider inviting me to do an event.
Thanks for all your support. It means so much to me!
* I am currently two projects past this one, so talking about Bones & All kind of feels like talking about a high-school art project. Maybe productivity is my magic chill pill!
Out of Time and Time for "Cheese"
I have so much to say and so little time to blog it! It's almost impossible to believe, but Bones & All goes on sale a week from yesterday. For almost two years I've had plenty of time, plenty of time, plenty of time, and suddenly the time is (almost) now. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!
I should have slept. But I was reading BONES & ALL (@cometparty) for @fanlit, one page led to another, and now it's 5:15 am. (Not sorry.)— Jana Nyman (@JanaNyman) March 4, 2015
So until next week I'm leaving you with this link—last week's Main Street Vegan radio show, with yours truly as co host and featuring Miyoko Schinner, author of Artisan Vegan Cheese. Big thanks to my dear teacher Victoria Moran for having me on (not to mention bringing me to a lovely cocktail party for the Humane League afterward.) I'll be blogging about my first cheese-making adventure soon!
I Drank the Kool-Aid and I’m Never Spitting It Out
I'm very excited to announce MindFUEL Yoga + Writing, a three-hour workshop I'm hosting with my dear friend and yoga teacher Brynne Haflett on Saturday, March 7th at Karma on Newbury Street. Today Brynne and I are interviewing each other to give you a better sense of who we are and what we're offering in this really unique and fun workshop. (You can read my As to her Qs over at Yogini B.)
How did you first come to study yoga? How have you grown through your practice over the past decade?
Thinking back, I actually came to yoga through writing. I had a wonderful substitute English teacher who is still a steady influence in my life. She trained to be a yoga teacher and when she opened her studio, my sister and I would go to her class in the mornings before school. I had no idea what yoga actually was when I went to my first class. None. But when I left the studio, I was hooked. I drank the Kool-Aid and I’m never spitting it out.My practice over the last ten years has grown in surprising and sometimes indescribable ways. I was 14 years old when I started yoga, so I was mostly interested in aesthetics. As I grew into my practice, I started to care less about the physicality of the asanas and more about the internal work embedded in them. I fully believe that the person I am and the person I’m becoming is 80% yoga and 20% genetics. Yoga has been a part of my life through middle school, high school, college, and now in my baptism into the “real world”. There is an abundance of non-judgmental self-reflection in yoga--or at least that’s the plan. It's impossible to not have transformational growth in that space.
One of the best pieces of career advice I’ve ever received was from my fiction teacher during my M.A. year. He said, “Create a space for yourself on the shelf. Write something no one else is writing.” I wonder if you feel that way about teaching yoga—that there may be many instructors to choose from, and on the surface it’s a vinyasa flow regardless of who is cueing it, and yet you’re still offering students your own unique perspective?
Absolutely. I think from a self-branding perspective it is essential to make your own spot on the shelf. There are so many yoga students, teachers, and studios in existence that a teacher really needs to create her own voice to stand out. On the other hand, every yoga class has similar components to another style the same way any fictional book will have similar pieces. No one is reinventing the wheel. An original sequence is sisyphean (wheel pun completely intended) in a tradition as old as yoga. When I teach, I’m not thinking about how to be unique. I’m teaching based on my own practice, training, and perspective which will either connect with the student or not.
How does your yoga practice enhance your creativity? Do you think it’s possible to cultivate a “flow state” on the mat that we can carry with us into our daily life?
In my experience, yoga enhances my creativity because it distracts me from what I’m trying to be creative about. A lot of my best ideas for classes, blog posts, or even professional goals come to me when I’m on my yoga mat. Yoga allows our bodies and minds to open (or our nadis) and that openness allows ideas that may have been passed over to be fully accepted and looked over. The magic of that openness is that once we learn how to find that state, we find other ways to get there. Runners High is incredibly similar to that flowing state. There is a “flow state” in video games that people are studying. I believe any activity that makes you feel safe and open can bring that same sense of flow to a person. Yoga can be that flow or it can be a tool to refine and enhance that state.
What are some of your coping strategies or rituals, on and off the mat, when you’re having a tough day?
Oh man, I have so many! I learned a cleansing meditation from a friend this summer that has been extremely helpful. There are a series of colors that you inhale three times and each exhale the colors become more “pure”. After the series of colors, you create a giant light bubble around yourself where you are completely safe and open your heart to whatever you’d like. I get goosebumps every time at this point in the meditation. Whenever the meditation feels complete, you thank whom/whatever and shrink the bubble back inside your body. This meditation is something I love to do before or after classes especially, so students don’t get my own crap mixed into their practice and I don’t leave with theirs.
What are you hoping students will take away from our MindFUEL workshop?
I really want students to leave with a feeling that yoga has connections far beyond headstand. I feel like there is a lot of emphasis in yoga on the postures and I want to show students that yoga extends well beyond them. The postures are tools meant to take a yogi into a deeper and more meaningful state. If a student left our workshop with a deeper connection to his mind and something stirring a little more inside of him, I would feel completely satisfied.
Registration details on my Learn With Me page!
Forearmstands probably not happening in our workshop, but you'll get into a sweet writing flow & eat yummy cupcakes! http://t.co/uI3njjFtCo— Camille DeAngelis (@cometparty) February 18, 2015
Can-Do Vegan!
I can't remember if I've mentioned this on the blog yet, but I am working on a free ebook I'm calling Can-Do Vegan, and I'm hoping to release it close to the Bones & All pub date on March 10th. As Leonard Bernstein famously said, "To achieve great things, two things are needed: a plan, and not quite enough time."
This is a separate thing from Vegan By the Seat of Your Pants (the kitchen-confidence unrecipe book) and Vegan Cookery & Pastry (18th-century cookbook reboot with fun literary and historical tidbits). Even I get mixed up with all my projects I'm juggling, so I certainly don't expect anyone else to keep them straight!
I've put a little blurb about it on my Learn With Me page [Edit, 2024: content from that page has been folded into my Archive. If you are wondering what happened to this ebook project, check out A Bright Clean Mind]:
Can-Do Vegan will address the most common concerns of the veg-curious, shine a light on cognitive dissonance regarding where your food comes from and who it used to be, and give you all the moral support you need to make a healthy and happy transition to a more compassionate diet.
I may not be a chef or a nutritionist, but I do know a thing or two about creativity and intuition, and I really want to use what I've learned to help other people face the resistance and uncertainty that arises when we begin to question our most cherished cultural assumptions.Here are some of the common protests and rationalizations I'll be addressing in the ebook:
"Vegan food is bland and boring."
"Heart disease runs in my family. I can’t escape it, so I might as well eat what I want."
"They’re razing the rainforest to plant soy crops! It’s better for the environment if I keep chickens in a nice clean coop and shoot my own meat."
"We have to eat something, don’t we? And what if plants have feelings too?"
"I want to change my diet, but my family won’t want to change along with me. Going vegan would be too hard."
I've got an answer for every single one. So get excited! I know I am. ;)
I also wanted to give you a heads-up that I'll be co-hosting my teacher Victoria Moran's Unity online radio show, Main Street Vegan, on Wednesday, February 25th at 3pm ET. (It'll be available as a podcast afterward, so no worries if you don't get to it.)
A Much-Needed Reality Check
“Don’t take yourself so seriously.”
“Be grateful for everything you have.”
These are classic pieces of good advice, yet how often do we neglect to take them?
One night back in October I sat down to dinner with a friend who was visiting from Ireland. We’d been offline all day, out sightseeing in Boston, and between the cooking and washing-up we took a moment to check our inboxes.
I had an email from my editor. It read, I am still really struggling with our narrator’s character…His is the voice that guides us through the story and yet we don’t understand him.
Shit! I thought. I NEED that d&a* check! Not to mention that I didn’t have the foggiest idea how I’d be able to write myself out of this.
Panic descended, like the barometric pressure and eerie yellow light that portends a thunderstorm. My friend forgave me for wanting to retire early. He went out to watch the World Series at a neighborhood bar, while I was asleep before “half nine.”
Eleven hours later I still didn’t want to get out of bed, and if not for my houseguest I would have stayed there. But I got up, put the kettle on, and opened Twitter to distract myself from the persistent feeling of impending disaster.
Sometimes social media offers you something of real practical value, something you’d have missed if you’d dipped into the feed only a few minutes later. In my case, it was this:
I read the blog post, and was humbled by it. Here is an excerpt of the original piece, which Rosemary Sutcliff wrote in 1981:
Career-wise, I’m one of the lucky ones. My job, as a writer of books, is one of the few in which physical disability presents hardly any problems. I would claim that it presents no problems at all but my kind of book needs research, and research is more difficult for a disabled person.
I am less able to see for myself or dig priceless information out of deeply hidden archives. I have to rely more on other people’s help and on libraries. And even libraries can present problems – like one which shall be nameless – which is very proud of its ramp to its entrance but keeps its entire reference department upstairs, with, of course, no lift...
In all those winter days I’d spent at the National Library of Scotland, it had never once occurred to me that I could access any and all reference materials without special assistance. Now and again I take a moment to feel grateful for a lot of things, but that was one blessing I hadn’t even considered. Not to mention being able to travel on my own, wherever and whenever I choose, fielding comments no more insensitive than “Seeing as you’re Italian and from New Jersey, is your grandfather the head of the mob?”
At times life can present us with real difficulties, but an unanticipated novel revision and cash flow issues (when one has no children, mortgage, or credit card debt) do not qualify.
* “Delivery and acceptance”—the portion of your advance that comes once your editor is 100% satisfied with the manuscript.
Bookstores of Boston: The Children's Book Shop
...And the voice grew, not so much in loudness as in sweetness (though it grew louder, too), till it was so sweet that you wanted to cry with pleasure just at the sound of it. It was like nightingales, and the sea, and the fiddle, and the voice of your mother when you have been a long time away, and she meets you at the door when you get home.
And the voice said—
"Speak. What is it that you would hear?"
The Children's Book Shop in Brookline (a quick walk from the Brookline Village stop on the Riverside line) is an absolute delight. It's a small shop, but they've managed to tuck a sofa in between the bookshelves to give customers a place to kick back and peruse at leisure. I'd passed it several times over the past year and a half, and once I stepped inside I wondered what took me so long. I was Christmas shopping for my niece, and I found a bunch of my favorites to share with her: Tom's Midnight Garden, From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, and a wonderful hardcover illustrated edition of Anne of Green Gables. It's nice to have a choice of editions! I picked up a new copy of The Phantom Tollbooth for myself (I'm excited to reread it), as well as E. Nesbit's The Story of the Amulet—it came highly recommended by an enthusiastic bookseller, and you know I love her scary stories for grown ups.The customer service is excellent here, and the friendly atmosphere works all ways; I fell into chatting with a woman whose seven-year-old daughter read so voraciously that she was at a loss as to which books to get for her next. We traded recommendations and I came away feeling quite sunshine-y. Funny how positive interactions with strangers can have that effect on you, right? That day I special-ordered Half Magic (my fellow customer had snagged the last copy for her daughter) and The Box of Delights (which Seanan had recommended awhile ago), and they called me a couple days later to say that Half Magic had arrived, although they've had to reorder The Box of Delights a few times already (sounds like the warehouse is out of stock). It's not as if I don't have plenty else to read in the meantime. 
My only complaint about The Children's Book Shop is the same as Porter Square Books: I need about ten more floors of it.
Happy birthday, Jules Feiffer! The beloved Phantom Tollbooth cartoonist on creativity, anxiety, and failure http://t.co/xMULDy2b9W
— Maria Popova (@brainpicker) January 26, 2015
Where We Make: the Writers' Room of Boston
In the beginning, I wrote in a dorm room. A university library. A café. I graduated from college and wrote on my desktop at work at lunchtime and after hours. After grad school I spent most afternoons at the public library, although my fellow patrons were never as quiet as I wanted them to be, nor is the library ever open as late as I would like. In a perfect world libraries would be open 24/7. Am I right or am I right?
This is why I need the Writers' Room. It is quiet in here, and there are not too many books. (There is such a thing as "too many books" when you are in procrastination mode.) I still work best at night, and although I have a nice big desk at home, there are always too many distractions there: sewing and knitting projects, laundry, a drawerful of fresh veggies to cook up, and so many books I haven't read yet. So I come here, arrange my laptop, journal, assorted notes and research, and settle in with a cup of tea in this fifth-floor perch above State Street in downtown Boston. I have passed many happy evenings in this fashion—happy and productive evenings.
This time last year I was pounding out a draft of Immaculate Heart, my 2016 novel, and thanks to the peace and good juju of the Writers' Room I was able to finish that draft in less than three months. Then I was away from Boston for two months last spring, and I didn't join up again over the summer to save some cash, and I really really missed it. (I finally renewed my membership at the beginning of January.)
Just as awesome as the productivity boost is the community of writers here who have become good friends. At the Boston Book Festival in October 2013, I fell into chatting with Mary Bonina, who was staffing the Writers' Room booth in Copley Square. She was wonderfully friendly but didn't give me the "hard sell," which I really appreciated. (I'd been invited to join an artists' space the previous summer, but decided it wasn't the right place for me when the administrator tried to pressure me into starting my membership sooner than I was ready for.) Mary invited me to the next WROB open house a few weeks later—it was on November 14th, my birthday, which I took to be a good sign—and as soon as I walked out of the elevator I felt that warm little hum inside that said, this is going to be your other home.
I can't tell you how good it feels to be back.
* * *If you're interested in learning more about the Writers' Room of Boston, come to their open house on Monday, February 9th Wednesday, March 18th, anytime between 6 and 9pm (the outgoing fellows are doing a reading at 7pm, though, so best to get here on the early side). The address is 111 State Street, Boston (above the Dunkin Donuts). There will be wine and munchies!* * *[Where We Make origin story and submission guidelines; all entries here.]
The Aspirational Lightness of Being
I have been a messy person for a very long time now, or at least that's how I've seen myself. I have manila envelopes stuffed with scraps of ideas going all the way back to my years at NYU, and I have a bad habit of leaving piles of trash in the corner of my room for days or even weeks (paper recycling, mostly—never rotting food or anything, I do feel the need to clarify that!) Instead of filing documents and receipts, I've tossed them into a cardboard box to be dealt with on some occasion in the nebulous future when Camille Finally Gets Her S**t Together. (And it isn't just my apartment; my stepfather has affectionately remarked that my bedroom looks as if I still live there.)
When I visited my aunt and uncle in Arizona in 2007 on my little Mary Modern book tour, I slept on an air mattress in my aunt's craft room, where the walls are lined with neatly organized scrapbooking and soapmaking supplies. How lovely it was to wake up inside that roomful of potential, to think of all the things she hasn't made yet that will be. The reason why all that stuff (however organized it is, it is still STUFF) didn't stress me out is, of course, that it isn't my stuff. All the ideas I have yet to implement, the books I have yet to read, the art and craft supplies I have yet to use: these things are making me anxious. I have no system for keeping them in order, for curating (such a buzzword these days, ha) my collections so that I don't feel overwhelmed by too much creative potential. When I looked through the plexiglass at Francis Bacon's studio at the Hugh Lane Gallery in Dublin, all I could think was please don't let me end up like this.
Thing is, though: I'm the one who decides how clean and organized my working and living spaces are going to be, and it doesn't matter if I'm being a bit hard on myself here—either way, I have to find a system that works. I want to feel that I'm working (or crafting) effectively. So here are some resolutions:
1. MAKE THE BED. For crying out loud.
2. Break down the seemingly-endless task. My sister pointed out that it makes way more sense to figure out and start using a system for organizing my ideas as I get them, folding in the contents of those manila envelopes over time, rather than tackling the backlog straight away. I always attempt it that way, and an hour later I throw up my hands.
3. Do the tasks regularly so they never reach the point of 'seemingly-endless'! On Sunday nights I'm going to input receipts into my tax spreadsheet, 'process' any other paperwork, and empty my wastebasket.
4. Get the right storage. I picked up one of those black-and-clear-plastic five-drawer cabinets via Craigslist the other week, and I'm going to buy some cubbies (like Ikea, but not) for my art and craft stuff, which will go under my desk (which is actually an 8' long table, so no built-in shelving).
5. Use Trello (thanks, Elliot!) to manage to-do lists.
This is good for a start, right? And here are some links I've found helpful and/or inspiring:
I've been meaning to do a "nesting" post since last summer, but it'll be so much better to do it once my space is naturally tidy (as opposed to my tidying it up for the picture taking, ha). One thing I'm excited to share is my (DIY) project bag rack, which makes use of the odd (as in charming!) space created by the slanting attic wall. More soon!
(This post is a continuation of item five on my 2015 list of intentions.)
Bookstores of Boston: Porter Square Books
I love getting really specific children’s book requests. My favorite was “Do you have any picture books about wiener dogs?” Best part was that yes, we did!
—Mackenzi Lee, PSB bookseller and future-famous authoress
(all quotes below are hers)
* * *
Porter Square Books is less than a fifteen-minute walk from my apartment. I know a bunch of the lovely booksellers there (like Mackenzi and Rebecca and Josh and Alexander), each of whom has their specialty. I love the paper goods, the 10% Grub Street member discount and the 10% charity donation on every box of holiday cards, and that there are actually really good books on the bargain table. The café has the most delicious Vietnamese soft rolls with peanut sauce, perfect for a light lunch. (For some odd reason I haven't gotten around to trying the coffee yet.)
This bookstore is conveniently located a minute's walk from the Porter Square T stop. I have an instinctive distaste for strip malls (being from South Jersey, you know—we can't get away from them down there), but it must be said that 1, the Porter Square Shopping Center has a bunch of essential stores (at least if you are a bookish crafty health nut-slash-beer drinker like I am); and 2, Porter Square Books has a surprisingly cozy atmosphere considering it's in a strip mall. I guess it's a happy convergence of friendly helpful staff, lovingly-curated-but-not-too-curated displays, and the laid-back café area.
My proudest bookseller moment was when a woman said “I don’t know the title, but the cover is yellow and it has the word EVERYTHING in the title. Do you know what I’m talking about?” AND I DID. It was THE BEGINNING OF EVERYTHING by Robyn Schneider.
Oh, and have I mentioned that PSB are hosting the Bones & All launch on March 14th? I love their packed event calendar and that they do proper publicity. Every reading I go to there is standing-room only, and let me tell you—from an author's perspective—what a blessed relief that is. Last Tuesday I attended Megan Mayhew Bergman's pub-day event for Almost Famous Women (I "know" Megan on Twitter, so it was really nice to meet her in person), and the signing line was almost to the door.
Huge thanks to @PorterSqBooks who packed the house for me on pub day & sold every last copy of AFW! Great store. pic.twitter.com/CPWppSf2Tk— Megan Mayhew Bergman (@mayhewbergman) January 7, 2015
A few months ago I met a really lovely couple, probably in their fifties, who were looking for the fourth book in Garth Nix’s Sabriel series. They told me they've been reading science fiction and fantasy novels aloud to each other every night since they got married in their twenties. I sent them off with a copy of Terry Pratchett’s WEE FREE MEN.
I have one complaint about Porter Square Books, and it is this: I wish there were about five more floors of it.
* * *
Upcoming events and other fun links:
MarcyKate Connolly's Monstrous, February 17th @ 7PM.
Josh Cook's An Exaggerated Murder, March 3rd @ 7PM.
Notes from a Fiction Workshop Panel
What to Do When You Love a Book
11 Things You Learn Your First Month As A Bookseller
12 Awkward Bookseller Moments (this is LOL-funny, yo)
Left out of the Awkward Bookseller Moments list: when you recommended a book that changed a person's life & don't remember said person. — Josh Cook (@InOrderOfImport) January 11, 2015
New Blog Series: Bookstores of Boston!
Young men, especially in America, write to me and ask me to recommend “a course of reading.” Distrust a course of reading! People who really care for books read all of them. There is no other course.
—Andrew Lang, Adventures Among Books
* * *
There are many things I love about living in Boston, but the wealth of great bookstores is at the very top of the list. In South Jersey (where I'm from), Barnes & Noble is the only option for miles, and who knows if there'll even be any B&N in ten years' time. In 2012 and early 2013 (before and after Hawthornden) I worked at the customer service desk at my hometown B&N, and the signs were not encouraging. I wanted to reach across the counter and shake anyone who whined that the Amazon price was cheaper.
Does Amazon let you browse through a stack of magazines in the cafe for hours without purchasing any of them? Does Amazon give you free WiFi and a table to work at your laptop or meet up with friends? Did Amazon give you a place to charge your phones during Hurricane Sandy? Can you have a twenty-minute conversation with Amazon about Diana Gabaldon's Outlander series? Does Amazon host local authors for in-person events?
Look what I found while going through some old papers. #sadfacepic.twitter.com/xUAsqRg4ml— Camille DeAngelis (@cometparty) December 27, 2014
Okay, you get my point. B&N is the best we can do in South Jersey, but independent bookstores are (for the most part) SO much better. Employees at chain bookstores are often making just above minimum wage, and they aren't necessarily interested in literature. For many of them it's just another retail job. Walk into an independent bookstore, though, and you'll find booksellers who are wildly enthusiastic about what they're selling you. It isn't just a job for them, it's a natural extension of their lifestyle. Yes, you'll usually pay more than you would at Amazon, but you have to look at the big picture: bookstores are a vital cultural resource. Imagine a world with no more brick-and-mortar bookstores (which is easier to do in my little pocket of South Jersey, I am sorry to report) and you may find you don't mind paying the full sticker price after a lively conversation with a bookseller who full-out adores that particular author. You come away from that transaction on a high that has nothing to do with retail therapy.
My friend Rachel Simon, who runs our monthly MG/YA writers' meetup, inspired this idea for a celebratory blog series on the independent bookstores of Boston. I must confess that I haven't actually been to many of the bookshops on the list below, or have only visited them quite recently in preparation for this project. I tend to frequent Harvard Books and Porter Square Books (or Trident, since it's right below my yoga studio), so I'm doing this series partly for my own edification.Here's a preliminary list, including secondhand bookstores:
Trident Booksellers and Cafe, Back Bay
Brookline Booksmith, Brookline
The Children's Bookshop, Brookline
Harvard Books, Cambridge
Pandemonium Books, Cambridge
Porter Square Books, Cambridge
Rodney's Bookstore, Cambridge
Seven Stars, Cambridge
Brattle Book Shop, Downtown Boston
The MFA Bookstore, Fenway
Papercuts, Jamaica Plain
Newtonville Books, Newton
New England Mobile Book Fair, Newton Highlands
Back Pages Books, Waltham
This list is far from exhaustive, particularly when it comes to secondhand and antiquarian bookstores, so if there's a shop I've missed that you really love, please let me know!I'll be posting about my experiences at these indies each Monday for the next few months, but I could really use your help: do you have any anecdotes (great customer service, fascinating author event, etc.) that you'd like to share? Because I have much more to say about the three bookstores I frequent, I'd really like to even things out and do each store justice.First up next Monday (predictably enough): Porter Square Books!
@cometparty Sure! How about @bestsellerscaf in Medford, @BackPagesBooks in Waltham, or brand-new @papercutsjp in Jamaica Plain?
— Boston Book Festival (@bostonbookfest) January 5, 2015
Gratitude 2015 giveaway!; or, a gift in 365 parts
Happy New Year, everybody! To celebrate, I'm giving away a copy of my friend Susa Talan's 2015 gratitude calendar! Same deal as usual:
You get ONE entry for a Facebook comment
TWO entries for a share, tweet or retweet
and THREE entries for leaving a comment on this post.
I'll keep this giveaway open 'til midnight tomorrow (January 2nd) and choose a random entry.
* * *
I'm always excited for the start of a new year, but today I'm bursting at the seams in the very best way. You know it's going to be a terrific year when the new novel is actually hovering somewhere in the middle of a long list of projects, adventures, and other blessings. This month—thanks to a part-time gig at my all-time favorite studio, yay!—I will slip back into my daily yoga routine in preparation for teacher training in November. Yoga and a couple of secret writing projects are at the top of that list.
I'm not much for "resolutions," per se; I prefer to see them as directions in which I'd like to grow. For the sake of accountability I'll share my "2015 expansion" with you here (and I want to hear what you're intending for this year as well!):
1. Yoga! I didn't manage a freestanding handstand last year, but it is TOTALLY happening in 2015.
2. Tuck into a series of delicious nonfiction projects. (This is just one of them.) I'm renewing my membership to the Writers' Room, so my productivity is about to skyrocket.
3. Make more art. I'm planning to take a printmaking class at MassArt over the summer.
4. After years of wistfully scrolling through IntSweMoDo projects on Ravelry (the challenge is to knit one sweater per month!), I'm finally committing to it, with one tweak: knit a sweater OR sew a dress (or other involved project, like shorts or what have you), EVERY MONTH. I have enough yarn and fabric to last through the summer, at least!
5. And this is perhaps the most important: this year I finally want to feel like I have my act together. I need to work way more efficiently than I do now. I'm talking zero inbox (inspired by my friend Kirsty), workable craft supply and book storage, and no more manila envelopes stuffed with decade-old scraps of scribbled ideas!
I DID IT, YOU GUYS! Inbox zero is not a myth! pic.twitter.com/c8Xin0KZ2u— Kirsty Logan (@kirstylogan) May 9, 2014
I'll be blogging more about these 2015 intentions over the next month, by the way.
Doing the zombie walk into the light http://t.co/mnRlsmeciT — squam (@squamlove) December 31, 2014
What are your hopes and ambitions for 2015, friends? By the by, I highly recommend settling in with your hot beverage of choice and filling out Susannah Conway's Unravelling 2015 workbook. Elizabeth and I looked over our workbooks from last year and were stunned at how much of what we envisioned for the year came to pass. (Just be REALLY clear about what you want, because if you leave any blanks, you can't expect to manifest much in that category...)
Camille gets to see the crazy amazing light in this place. http://t.co/YmxyDkKMmF — squam (@squamlove) January 1, 2015
* * *EDIT: Congrats to Liv for winning the calendar giveaway!
Puns and Praise (and More Puns)
I brought the Bones & All galley along on vacation this past month, and all four of my family members got to read it. (Jill went first, and finished the book at the end of an all-night bout of insomnia—she literally did not sleep. I was amazed she could function the next day!) They made groan-worthy puns, asked salient questions, and posed a few theories of their own. (Maren's curse as a metaphor for an eating disorder? How had I never consciously considered that?!) It was like we'd formed our own little on-the-road book club. I like to tell people this is the one project from which I've completely disengaged—that you can say whatever you like about it and my heart won't reply with that aggravating fight-or-flight business—but it still gives me pleasure to know that my family and friends are enjoying what I've written.
"A tasty treat."
"I was hungry for more."
"It's a book you can really sink your teeth into."
"It takes a couple of readings to digest it all."
"Ravenously good!"
"You are one sick, sick mother-effer." (This one from my own sister.)
And last but not least, after stopping by a Tel Aviv ice cream parlor: "We devoured them, cones and all."
@cometparty The banner ad on today's Shelf Awareness email got my really excited :) pic.twitter.com/qj7ilR44YR— Mackenzi Lee (@themackenzilee) December 5, 2014
Love these words from @cometparty on reading, writing, & how we shape our identities http://t.co/hZrW3sEK61 also books as necessary candy ;)— Adam Maynard (@agmaynard) December 6, 2014
Terrible fake-blurbs aside, there is actual cool stuff to share. First, I have an essay on Book Reporter that went up on Friday as part of their blog series on holiday bookgiving. And in save-the-best-for-last fashion, check out these generous (and, y'know, legit) blurbs I've received from two terrific authors:
"From its opening, grab-you-by-the-gut paragraph to its chilling, perfect ending, I was captivated by the story of Maren Yearly, a character unlike any I've ever encountered before. Bones & All is a riveting, utterly original, and unexpectedly tender exploration of one of the scariest things in the world: growing up."
— Elizabeth Little, author of Dear Daughter
"A dark and mesmerizing vision of adolescent desire—this book will devour you."
— Robin Wasserman, author of The Waking Dark and The Book of Blood and Shadow
Thank you very much, Robin and Elizabeth!
Progress Report
Immaculate Heart notes scrawled at the upstairs bar at the Beehive on the evening of April 11th, 2013. (I got the two-book deal from St. Martin's the next day. Someday soon I'll tell you the whole crazy story about the twenty-four hours leading up to the magic phone call.) 
Immaculate Heart, polished draft printed on recycled paper, early November 2014. (Working in bed because what can I say? I am my mother's daughter.) You come a long way in a relatively brief period of time—you look back, gauging that distance with no small degree of satisfaction—and then you find out just how far you have yet to go. I'm aiming to get this revision done by the end of the year...And then ask me what's NEXT! (Besides what I've already told you about.)
What's in your Noise?
I went to grad school in Galway, in the west of Ireland—where, as you may know, it rains more days than not. I lived a 25-minute walk from campus, on a road with far more motorists than pedestrians. On my way to class one afternoon, I spotted a girl about my age coming toward me on the path ahead. She carried a big brown shopping bag from one of the wooly-jumper shops in town, so I could tell at a glance that she was only visiting.We approached each other. She opened her mouth—to greet me, I supposed, so I formed the word “hello” in kind—but I was in for a rude surprise. “F**king rain!” she said fiercely, though she made eye contact as she said it. “It never f**king stops. F**k!”I stopped in my tracks, mouth wide open, and watched as she continued along the path I’d just taken. The girl never looked back. She trudged along with her shopping bags, head down and shoulders hunched, radiating aggravation. It wasn’t even raining that hard.As you can tell—seeing as this happened ten years ago now!—this fleeting and rather bizarre interaction left an indelible impression on me. We’ll set aside the fact that traveling to Ireland and then complaining about the weather is just about the most ludicrous thing you can do; what I took from that encounter is that our thoughts, mood, and actions as we move through the world affect absolutely everyone we meet.I was reminded of that young American tourist recently when I read the Chaos Walking trilogy by Patrick Ness. These YA science fiction novels are set on a distant Earth-like planet, where human pioneers have settled in the hope of creating a sustainable future. Instead, of course, they have clashed violently with the indigenous population (who bear a pointed similarity to the Native Americans) and with each other. The most unique aspect of the novel is that, owing to some biochemical quirk on this new planet, the thoughts and fantasies of human men hover in the air, perfectly audible and visible to all in the vicinity. Here’s how one of the protagonists, Todd, first presents this phenomenon to the reader:
…[T]he swamp is the only place anywhere near Prentisstown where you can have half a break from all the Noise that men spill outta themselves, all their clamor and clatter that never lets up, even when they sleep, men and the thoughts they don’t know they think even when everyone can hear. Men and their noise. I don’t know how they do it, how they stand each other.
As I read these three wonderful novels I kept asking myself one question: what would people hear and see around me, if I had “Noise”? I’d seen a long time ago that no one lives independently of the attitudes of their neighbors, even if that “neighbor” is only growling (or beaming) at you in passing; but I wasn’t always as positive as I could be on, shall we say, off color days. That girl on Bishop O’Donnell Road hadn’t really seen me at all—she’d just spewed her negativity and kept on walking—and while I’ve never cursed at a random passerby, from time to time I’ve certainly lapsed into self-involved mopery in the presence of others.I’m not implying we should suppress what we’re feeling if we’re having a bad day, only that we are still responsible for our moods even at the times when it’s hard to feel happy. It doesn't matter if you place no stock in auras, “vibes,” or other such New Age principles; the fact remains that you can walk into the space you share with a loved one and know instantly—before you have gauged their posture or facial expression, or heard a single word from their lips—that something is amiss with them.So if I’m feeling irritated I’ll do whatever I need to do to let go and move on, so that other people don’t have to deal with what is mine alone to process. Conversely, if I’m feeling cheerful, I want to do my best to spread that good feeling around! This way my thoughts and feelings are Music instead of Noise.
Wunderkind Syndrome
Wunderkind Syndrome: Or, How to Stop Wanting to Be More Amazing Than Everybody Else
There is here no measuring with time, no year matters, and ten years are nothing. Being an artist means, not reckoning and counting, but ripening like the tree which does not force its sap and stands confident in the storms of spring without the fear that after them may come no summer.
— Rainer Maria Rilke. During my freshman year at NYU I took the subway uptown to the Guggenheim. When I came upon Picasso’s Le Moulin de la Galette—painted just after the great artist’s nineteenth birthday—I stood before it in a fog of self reproach. I was nineteen, and what did I have to show for myself?In that moment I succumbed to “Wunderkind Syndrome”: the frantic desire to produce an amazing work of art as soon as possible—preferably before the age of twenty, twenty five at the latest—so that everyone will hail your genius before any of your contemporaries can edge you out. Furthermore, if you’re not applying yourself to this ambition with obsessive focus then you obviously don’t want it badly enough, and if you don’t want it enough to sacrifice sleep, social life, and basic personal hygiene, then you musn’t be a true artist.Ridiculous, right? I’m chuckling as I type this. Why do we want so badly to prove our brilliance at a more tender age than everyone else? Why, in our secret (or not-so-secret) hearts, do we want to be perceived as better than everyone else?Perhaps the first reason is, of course, that our culture is obsessed with youth (and generally at the expense of substance). We feel this panic to produce something while the world still casts us in an attractive light.The second factor to consider is the scarcity mentality, which has haunted our species from the African savannah all the way to the Walmart Black Friday stampede. There are only so many accolades to go around—only so much gallery space, only so many slots on the “big five” publishers’ seasonal lists—and we grow desperate to claim our share as soon as we possibly can.But the ultimate reason has nothing to do with cutting throats or getting trampled. We all want to be loved and accepted for who we are, and because our art feels like the truest expression of that identity, it’s all too tempting to conflate output with intrinsic worth. This misperception is most powerful during that brutal passage through adolescence. I must beam this work of my heart out into the world so that I will be seen—heard—understood. If we must make ourselves vulnerable in this way, then we might as well be rewarded for our bravery.When I first began writing fiction with an eye toward publication, in 2001, a nineteen year old with a book deal was a rare bird. These days, thanks to the rocketing popularity of young adult fiction and the ease of digital publishing, you can find teenaged authors seemingly everywhere you look. Amanda Hocking, whose phenomenal self-publishing success led to a million-dollar deal with, ahem, my own publisher, has mentioned in interviews that she wanted to publish by the age of 26 because that’s how old Stephen King was when he came out with his first novel, Carrie. When I read an ARC of Hocking’s own debut novel, I made a game of underlining the adverbs, which appeared in ludicrous profusion on nearly every page. Apologies for the snark here, but she could have taken a few more years to hone her craft.Still, I know exactly where Amanda Hocking was coming from. Just before my twenty-second birthday, I finished the last scene of a 600-page manuscript, hit the print button and mailed that teetering pile of paper off to a literary agent. I look back on the girl I was then, and try not to smile too condescendingly. I did get my first book deal at twenty five, but I put those three intervening years to good use: writing all night, sleeping ’til noon, forging lasting friendships with my grad school classmates, and going to classes knowing only that I had a hell of a lot to learn. In essence, I was working on a much more practical form of character development: I stopped believing the world owed me something and focused on telling an engaging and meaningful story.In Show Your Work, Austin Kleon cites John Richardson’s biography of Picasso. According to Richardson, Picasso was notorious for sucking the energy out of anyone who paid him a visit: somebody with stars in his eyes would show up hoping to be inspired by the great artist, only to leave hours later feeling completely exhausted and depressed. Picasso, meanwhile, retreated to his studio and painted all night with renewed vigor. This is why many of Picasso’s contemporaries wanted nothing to do with him personally.The asshole-genius is a false binary—you can see something you painted as a teenager in one of the world’s finest art museums without turning into a psychic vampire!—but we may still find ourselves striving for notoriety at any cost if we lose sight of these two basic truths:
1. Getting a fancy book, film, or record deal does NOT make you a better artist.2. Getting a fancy book, film, or record deal does NOT make you a better person.
In his 2008 TED talk Benjamin Zander, longtime conductor of the Boston Philharmonic Orchestra, says, “I have a definition of success. For me, it’s very simple: it’s not about wealth and fame and power. It’s about how many shining eyes I have around me.” Zander is now in his seventies, and the viewer gets the distinct impression as he bounds down the steps to engage with his audience that he is sharing the wisdom he has accumulated over seven decades of conscious living. He has nothing to prove; he’s only offering the best that is in him, a trove of abundance that goes on accumulating with every passing year.How absurd, then, to think that one’s insight and ability have a sell-by date, when they ought to have a “do not sell before” date! Art isn’t a sporting event; it isn’t a race. No one is standing before you holding up their wrist to tap at their watch. Besides, there’s always going to be someone out there who’s achieved your goal at a younger age, who’s garnered more commercial success or critical accolades and awards. Wunderkind Syndrome will siphon off your creative energy if you give in to it.In the end, of course, no one gives a crap how young or old you are. If you’ve written a good book or snapped a stunning photograph, your work will circulate in the world on its own merits.* * *Edit: Nora Mathews pointed me to this 2008 New Yorker article by Malcolm Gladwell on genius and precocity.* * *This post became a chapter in Life Without Envy: Ego Management for Creative People.
Bones & All Q&A + PM/MM giveaway!
Just a quick note to tell you I've got an interview about Bones & All at Peace, Love, Teen Fiction today! It's too soon to be giving away a copy, but you can enter to win either of my first two novels.
Sweeter than the face of Ishtar
Last Christmas my sister and I were going through more of our grandparents' stuff, and we found this poster I'd made in high school—most likely for English class given that it's a paean to Sylvia Plath.
I looked at this drawing for the first time in...what, fourteen years?...and thought, "Gosh, that's beautiful." (How could I have forgotten what a gorgeous poet she was?) Kate thinks I should frame it.I also love that I'm still using the same set of Prismacolors!
Fall Squam 2014
Each time I blog about the latest Squam retreat I'm reminded of how inadequate language truly is. It's impossible to convey the transformative magic of this place to someone who hasn't been here.This was my first time teaching, and while I came with the express intent of stepping into my teacherhood, I received SO much more than that. People (who'd taken my class, or had heard good things) kept asking where else I was teaching, if I offer e-courses and the like, which has me thinking deeply again about creating my own opportunities. I connected with kindred spirits—special shout outs to Liv White, who picked me up at North Londonderry a day early so we could help decorate the playhouse, and who has one of the purest hearts I have ever encountered; and to Sarah Greenman, whom I love with a fierceness that is eerily disproportional to the precious-little time we spent together IRL. I did the woo-woo thing with my wonderful cabin-mates (and fellow teachers), some of whom (fortunately for me!) live in the Boston area. I shared a story from my childhood at lunchtime on Saturday and wound up bawling onto my empty plate; it was a huge breakthrough and I'm so grateful to Dixie for her insight. Even when I found myself in conflict with a very dear friend, I could (eventually) see it for the gift that it was.Because EVERYTHING is a gift. Even when it's hard, it's a gift. How else are we supposed to grow? 
I also can't adequately convey just how excited I am about life right now. I'm hatching all sorts of plans for workshops and books that will go even deeper than I had time for in only six hours, and I've taken down the old stuff on my "learn with me" page to make space for these new projects. I'm so, so grateful to my dear friend Elizabeth for giving me the opportunity to share what I've learned, and go on learning as I do so.
A parting gift from @ccerruti at @squamlove. pic.twitter.com/LlOeWSyfAS
— Camille DeAngelis (@cometparty) September 14, 2014
Plotting the Course
My Up & Writing workshop prep has been somewhat addicting. I love shaping and refining my thoughts for (what will hopefully be) maximum impact. I leave for Squam bright and early tomorrow morning! 
Vegan by the Seat of Your Pants!
Teaching people doesn't subtract value from what you do, it actually adds to it. When you teach someone how to do your work, you are, in effect, generating more interest in your work. People feel closer to your work because you're letting them in on what you know.
Best of all, when you share your knowledge and your work with others, you receive an education in return.
—Austin Kleon, Show Your Work
It's very nearly a year now since this new site went up, and while things may not seem to have changed much on the surface, a lot of the bits on the site feel ripe for an update. You may have noticed the vegan creativity coaching pitch on the "learn with me" page, which I composed thinking that at some point I would feel ready for that sort of thing, but it hasn't happened yet. Thanks to Austin Kleon's Show Your Work, I'm thinking even more lately about how to share what I've learned, and private coaching has never felt like the right path for me. I'm a writer, not a motivational speaker (which is not to say I don't want to work on developing those skills at some point, because I definitely, definitely do.) And while I'd also love to host workshops and other educational events (in person and online), those things take a ton of energy to organize and publicize, and even then you might get only a few signups.I'm not meaning to be an Eeyore here, and you know I'm definitely not a "realist"—I'm only trying to be careful about where I'm putting my energy at any given time. Someday I will put my heart and verve into those endeavors—just not yet.So what DO I feel ready for?More of what I already do best. 
Anne and I were recently talking over the vegan meal planning suggestions I'd given her, and she said, "Why don't you expand on this information and make it available as an ebook?"The thing took shape in my head almost right away. A cookbook that takes the mystery out of vegan cooking, especially for people who say "I'm not a good cook." A cookbook for people who buy cookbooks and never use them. A blueprint for kitchen confidence. An UNcookbook.I do not have a culinary degree, and I have taken exactly one cooking lesson in my entire life. Paradoxically, my lack of training is precisely why I am qualified to write this sort of book—if I can do it without any specialized education, then so can you!The basic idea is this: I'll offer variations on a given dish, depending on your needs and preferences and what's already in your cupboard and produce drawer (or, if the fridge is looking bare, what's in season). So for instance, with a pesto, I'll say you need just three basic ingredients: a green (or not—olives and sundried tomatoes are other options), a nut (or seed), and an oil. You don't actually need to measure any of these ingredients; you add a couple handfuls of chopped greens and a couple handfuls of nuts and keep adding a bit of oil and blending in the food processor until smooth, adding salt, pepper, nutritional yeast, and other seasonings to your taste. The more conversations I have about cooking at home with people who don't enjoy it, the more I realize other people find "winging it" like this downright intimidating. The goal here is to make the preparation of basic hearty nutritious meals feel totally doable—even joyful. 
Here's my basic meal category list so far:
- Salads
- Stirfries
- Soups and Stews
- Spreads and Sauces
- Cutlets
Each section will offer a basic framework, to which you add whatever ingredients suit you. For example, you can make roasted red pepper cutlets even if you are gluten free, because breadcrumbs are just one option. I'll also include basic nutritional values so you can easily compare those options.This project will be months in the making, of course, but I am already signing up "unrecipe" testers. (Thanks, Kath!) Let me know if you are interested, and also if you have any kitchen-related questions or quandaries you'd like to see me address in this ebook!