Making Peace with the Past

Tom DeWolf and I penned an article that has just appeared in the Oklahoma Humanities magazine. The them of the issue is “reconciliation” and our contribution is entitled “Making Peace with the Past.”

Oklahoma was one of the stops on the road trip we took last year to inform the writing of our book. It was a moving experience in many ways. For me, it provided an opportunity to connect with one of my ancestors — Owen Gavin — who lived in Pottawatomie County. His story is told in our article along with an account of the Tulsa race riot and our thoughts about how to use this horrific history to heal.

There are many illuminating stories in this issue and we are proud to be a part of it.

Here is the link to our article: http://www.okhumanities.org/Websites/ohc/images/Magazines/summer_2012/making_peace_with_the_past.pdf

Page Proofs – our final writing task before…

I dropped a package in the mail to Sharon yesterday. She’ll be exceedingly happy to receive it, just as I’m exceedingly happy to have sent it. Sort of… I guess…

This is a weird moment in the life of Gather at the Table. I’ve spent the past week meticulously scouring the page proofs of our manuscript. My wife Lindi reviewed it as well. This is our final task in the actual writing process – checking for any last errors or making minor fixes before the book is finalized for printing. After this, no more changes. No more improvements. No more, “I wish I would have said that just a little differently” alterations. Once Sharon performs the same task and sends the manuscript back to Beacon Press, we’re done. This is it. It’s no longer ours. Come October 9, it will belong to our readers. They will determine how well we’ve told the story of our journey.

And it’s a weird moment. Up until now the story has been ours to mold, struggle with, hold tight, nurture, and grow into something we hope will make a positive difference in the lives of our readers, and ultimately, in the world.

It’s not unlike raising children. For awhile, we parents do our best to mold, struggle with, hold tight, nurture, and grow our children into people we hope will do well in the world, and will make a positive difference. And at some point we’re pretty much done. They no longer belong to us.

My granddaughters Ali and James walked downtown with me yesterday to mail our package to our friend Sharon. On our way downtown and back – we walk downtown a lot – they like to climb on top of brick or rock walls that run parallel to, and a few feet above, the sidewalks along our course. There is one particular rock wall, not far from the library, that is rough, craggy, easy to catch a toe and slip on; a challenge for a little girl to navigate. Ali, the older at 5 years of age, hops up and moves quickly along. James, 3 years old, hasn’t been as sure-footed or self-confident just yet on this particular parapet. But this afternoon, she pushed my hand away. “It’s okay, Papa,” she said. “I can do it.”

I would prefer to hold her hand; to keep her safe. I wasn’t quite ready to let go. But she was ready. She walked all the way down the street on that precipitous surface until she came to the corner and hopped down with a big smile of satisfaction on her face.

Though there are elements in Gather at the Table that I am sure both Sharon and I will think we could have molded, nurtured, or written just a little bit better, we won’t be able to. We’ve done our best and this book is now pushing our hands away.

There are a couple more weird things about this moment in the life of our book. First, it has gone from the virtual world into the physical. Up until this point we’ve produced our manuscript on our laptops. Writing and editing has all been done on our computers with updates flying back and forth among us and our editor via email. Proofreading is the first time that we’re required to make changes on actual paper pages. The manuscript has been set in the type and style as it will appear in book form in October. The pages are numbered. We make note of final changes in colored pencil in the margins. It feels so old fashioned, somehow, and yet, so real. As tedious as it may sound to go line by line – word by word – through a manuscript, I love this part of the process. It’s our last opportunity to try to ensure that this book can handle the rugged terrain it is about to step out onto.

The other thing is that Sharon and I have almost always been together for significant moments like this throughout our journey. We sat together at the same large table at Richmond Great House in Tobago in January 2011 as we wrote the first three chapters. We sat together at her dining room table for many long days last October to review the completed manuscript. We performed a first public reading of excerpts for our friends at the Coming to the Table National Gathering two weeks ago today. But we couldn’t make it work to be together for proofreading. It’s not that big a deal, I suppose. It’s just weird, that’s all.

Within the next few days, Sharon will receive the package we mailed and she’ll go to work. She’ll no doubt finish ahead of our deadline. We’ve prided ourselves on never being late at any point in this entire process with our publisher. Once she finishes proofreading, our focus will shift completely from the art of writing to the business of publicity and marketing so as to get our book into the hands of as many readers as possible.

Gather at the Table will be ready, just like James was ready to strike out on her own on that precarious rock wall.

Hilltop Haints

I just returned from the national gathering of Coming to the Table. This is the group that brought Tom and I together in 2008 and led to our collaboration in writing Gather at the Table. The group has grown a lot since then.

Sixty-five inquisitive, motivated souls gathered at Richmond Hill, a location of enormous historical importance. We spent a weekend engaging in dialogue about history, slavery, racism, and healing. As the birthplace of both America and American slavery, Virginia (not to mention Richmond) held deep meaning for us all.

Over the course of the weekend, Tom and I made a presentation about our book to an enthusiastic audience. The many compliments we received for our reading inspired hope that our book can become a best seller. I also led a genealogy workshop to teach people how to do both forward and reverse research to discover linked descendants. During my personal time, I spent several hours at the Library of Virginia, a leading research center for genealogists and historians.

The great irony for me was finding out that the man who gave the city of Richmond its name in 1737 is connected to the family I am researching in Mississippi. William Byrd gazed out over the horizon at what is now Richmond Hill in 1737 and named the town for his birthplace at Richmond-on-Thames, England. One of Byrd’s descendants, Bathia Byrd, married Charles Gavin — the great grandfather of Robert Gavin — the man who fathered 17 children with my GGGrandmother, Bettie Warfe.

It is a small world indeed when one can time travel through centuries and find such profound connections. That idea is even more poignant when considering that Richmond Hill is so near to St. John’s Church, where Patrick Henry delivered his speech that extolled: “Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty, or give me death!” Richmond went on to become the capitol of the Confederate states. Richmond Hill is today an ecumenical retreat center focused on prayer, healing, hospitality and reconciliation.

This experience reminded me once again how powerful ancestral spirits can be. The bright ones stand with us as we attempt to heal from the traumas of slavery and racism. There was a great deal of talk about that over the weekend — along with a heap of praying and reconciling.

My takeaway from all this is the satisfaction of knowing that many people see things the way I do. Our “hidden wound” longs to be healed and there are at least 65 people on planet Earth who are committed to transformation. It was powerful indeed to sit atop Richmond Hill in unity, gazing out at a future we will help unfurl.

After processing my feelings on the long drive back home, I arrived to updated news about the Obama family being eviscerated yet again; women under assault over reproductive rights; growing outrage over the murder of a boy named Trayvon Martin and the impending trial of a soldier who massacred 16 people in Afghanistan.

When Gather at the Table goes on sale on October 9, our greatest hope is to be a beacon of light in a dark and scary world.

Ashay… ashay… to the ancestors who brought us this far.

Meeting two of the most important people in my life

Yesterday, February 9, was the fifth anniversary of the day on which I met two people for the first time; two people who have changed my life in dramatic ways. Both of them have influenced my writing and several other aspects of how I live my life.

One was my granddaughter Alison, who was born that day. The other was my editor at Beacon Press, Gayatri Patnaik, who I met by telephone when I called her from my daughter’s hospital room.

As Sharon and I continue to prepare for the publication of Gather at the Table in October, edited as my first book was, by Gayatri, I wrote about my celebration of February 9 at my other blog site.

The Skill of Writing

It is hard to be a writer. I know because I am one — and wow, does that feel good to say!

Beginning as children (well, most of us), writers are compelled to express themselves. The opinion driven angst of youth urges us (often in dreams) to get things off our chest. So we write in diaries, post our thoughts on Facebook, Tweet and text voluminously. In the old days, we filled yellow legal pads and diaries with long diatribes (at least I did).  I lost my writer’s ”virginity” when my mother hunted and found my locked diary, read my private thoughts and loudly berated my insolence. After that, I evolved into craving a larger audience — one that might not be so judgemental.

In the long run, the ultimate goal of writers is that our prose will incite millions of thinkers to think and readers to read — not for the money (although that would be nice) but for the pleasure of striking the musical chord of popular resonance. We have at our disposal 26 letters and approximately one million words with which to do this — in a form that is grammatically superior. When all else fails, we thank God for spell check and writer’s license!

I started honing my writing skills early in life. In grammar school, Sister Mary Martin De Porres taught us to write in cursive; Sister Theodore taught us to diagram sentences with perfect precision. In high school, Sister Evangeline taught us the archaic roots of language with Latin. In a secular state college, rhetoric was my favorite class (lots of puns; no nuns). All along the way, when my work was offered to the scrutiny of peer review, I was both attracted and repelled when my innocuous poetry and amateur essays induced accolades from students and teachers alike. I eventually accepted that writing is something I was meant to do. I have been at it ever since — walking a long and arduous road toward continuously improving my skills with every tool I can find.

Enter Strunk and White.

In their 105 page book — Elements of Style —  the authors wax in prolific brevity (an oxymoron I know) through evenly divided sections. There are 11 “Elementary Rules of Usage,” 11 “Elementary Rules of Composition” and 11 “Matters of Form.” Borrowing from their wisdom, my motto is “Good writing is concise” (much to the chagrin of some editors who want more and more and then some.)

When Tom posted this rap on his Facebook page, I just couldn’t help myself. I had to pass it on. Hopefully, when Gather At the Table reaches book stores in Fall 2012, our readers will see that I learned my lessons well.

Change

While going through some old paper files, I came across a clipping from a 2006 Vanity Fair magazine entitled “Special Alert: Horoscope USA.” It predicts “A planetary configuration not seen since 1776 is coming our way, heralding chaos, revolution, and rebirth” — a 20 year span of massive upheaval that will forever change how America sees itself and how it relates to its citizens and the world community. As the article says, “It’s going to be the 1960s, in spades.”

Astrology is one of many subjects about which I maintain an ongoing curiosity. I accept the idea that celestial bodies have an influence on human behavior. Native American prophesies intrigue me. I have read Edgar Cayce, Nostradamus, and the books of Seth. I am inclined to believe something hugely significant will occur on December 21, 2012.  Add into that mix of prophetic resonance the realities of wars, global warming,  food insecurity, water and energy resource depletion.

The convergence of so many huge challenges all at the same time makes it impossible for any thinking person to ignore that things are, indeed, changing — prophesied or not.  They have to.

By the time Gather at the Table is published in October, 2012, who knows what the state of the world will be? The leadership of numerous countries will have changed. The winner of the American presidential election will not yet be known. The EuroZone may no longer exist.  Occupy Wall Street may well have packed up its tents and gone home.  The writings of H.G. Wells may gain new import. Wars may have proliferated. By the end of December, the world as we know it may no longer exist at all.

Whatever does or does not happen, Gather at the Table will enter the public consciousness at a propitious time. A time when people are actively engaged in laying destructive legacies to rest; seeking new solutions to old problems and building new footpaths toward a better world.

It is my fervent hope that, of the 3,000 books published each day, Gather at the Table will find its way to the top of the heap as a beacon of hope in a world of change.

A post for writers: Shifting Gears

This post is written for people interested in the publishing process; what writers experience in collaboration with a publisher (and, in our case, with each other). Whether you are someone who dreams of publishing your own book or you’re simply interested in some of the behind-the-scenes process, this one’s for you. Each author has different experiences, of course, depending on their publisher, editor and other factors. I’ve heard some horror stories from other authors about working through the publishing process. I’ll tell you one thing for sure. They weren’t working with Beacon Press. Our experience has been professional, respectful, exciting, and fun… and a lot of hard work.

October 24 was the day everything shifted for us.

Two years, two months and eighteen days after we first talked about writing together (I just love what you can figure out with Google these days), Sharon and I submitted our draft manuscript to Gayatri Patnaik, executive editor at Beacon Press, and we met over lunch with the editorial, marketing and publicity team. Sharon wrote about the experience a few days later in Special Delivery. It was indeed a special day.

For the past two-plus years Sharon and I have traveled. A lot. We’ve spent time with each other, with each others’ friends and with each others’ families. We’ve put thousands of miles on our Jeeps (mostly Sharon’s). We’ve done research together. We’ve laughed. We’ve cried. We’ve pondered. We’ve shared lots of meals. We’ve talked and talked. And we wrote.

And on October 24 everything shifted from a focus on the art and imagination of creating our journey and writing about it, to molding the draft manuscript into a book. There is still a lot of art and imagination going into the process, and there is also a new focus on forging words and sentences and paragraphs into a story that readers will find compelling, and into a package that booksellers, marketers, readers, and the media will pay attention to among the quarter-million-or-so books that will be published next year in the United States.

The stage we’re in now works like this. Gayatri reads our manuscript. She makes detailed recommendations for improvements; what we should cut, what needs to be expanded, sections to move, things that need clarification, and so on. We respond to those recommendations by accepting (almost all) or rejecting (very few) her suggestions. Then we make the changes.

We received the manuscript back from Gayatri on November 14. We were thrilled to read that she was “quite pleased” with the draft; that we had given her “such great material to work with.” Her confidence in us and our manuscript means a great deal to us. Our highest hope is that our readers will truly understand what we’ve experienced along this journey of healing, and will want to travel with us through each page.

Sharon and I spent three hours on the phone on November 15 talking through every “track changes” note Gayatri had written. We agreed to a process whereby we would each review the entire manuscript and make the changes that were most appropriate to one or the other of us and then pass it back and forth. I had it for a few long days, then Sharon did. The next pass took one day each. There were a few final issues to haggle through that we did by telephone, and that was it. Yesterday, November 22, we submitted Draft 2 (which is how there is finally time to write a blog post!)

We’ll get the manuscript back with final recommendations in a couple weeks. We’ll then have our last opportunity to make significant changes. When we send in our final submission, everything will shift once more. Many steps remain, including copy-editing, proof-reading, cover design, the creation of publicity and marketing plans, and more, all leading up to the publication of Gather at the Table in October 2012.

Then everything will shift again.

What a Day!

Sharon and I talked today about how we haven’t had time to add posts to our blog for awhile. We’ve been SO busy working on the manuscript and have been determined to maintain that focus. Our submission deadline with Beacon Press is December 1 and time is so short that we trust you’ll understand.

I arrived at Sharon’s house late yesterday afternoon. We agreed to get up this morning and line out our work schedule for the next two weeks before we drive to Boston to meet with our editor and many other staff members at Beacon Press on Monday, October 24. Our goal is to finish our draft of the complete manuscript by then. Additionally we have many smaller–but very important–details to complete.

Today was incredible. We successfully drafted our dedication page, acknowledgments, notes on methodology, a brief list of recommended books, a review of our Introduction, and narrowed down our ideas on what the subtitle of our book should be. We’re stoked about all we accomplished today.

Tomorrow we’ll begin drafting the final chapter for the manuscript. If one or the other of us has the opportunity during the next two weeks, we’ll provide an update on how things are progressing.

Okay, it’s time for a good night’s sleep before diving into tomorrow’s tasks!

Goodbye Netflix!

You aren’t raising OUR rates by 60% without consequences. We’re outa here!

Seriously, Lindi and I just canceled Netflix. Their recent spike in cost really got to me. It feels good to register my PROTEST, just like in the good old days when protesters ended Jim Crow, the war in Viet Nam, nuclear power, and inequality among the sexes!!! Yeah!

Okay, maybe protesters didn’t completely fix everything that’s wrong in the world… and maybe I’m overstating things just a wee bit by comparing the end of war and racism with cancelling my subscription to a DVD delivery service…

And, truth be told, there’s another reason I cancelled Netflix.

Sharon and I have three and a half months left to finish our manuscript and submit it to Beacon Press.

Sharon’s last post, WRITER’S BLOCK, spoke of the dread every writer faces from time to time when nothing seems to flow. You try this sentence, that word, walk away and do something else and then return to the laptop, and… nothin’. Everything kind of sucks.

What was unusual is that over the past two years since we began this journey together at least one of us has always been “on.” If one of us gets a little “out of sorts” we’ve been able to count on the other one to bring the enthusiasm. The past couple of weeks were very different. It felt like neither one of us could locate the muse, the inspiration, the mojo.

That time has now thankfully passed. I’ve actually been expecting Sharon to post a “HURRAY” essay here for the past couple of days, but I totally understand why she hasn’t done so. And I’m thrilled. She had an epiphany last week that shifted us out of neutral and into high gear once again and Sharon is writing like a woman possessed (in a good way)! I won’t explain the details. We’ll save it for the book. Suffice it to say that we have been rolling over the past week. Each of us is working on different aspects of the book and it’s going really well.

We’ll make our deadline. There has never been any doubt about that. It’s just exciting to experience the shift from the doldrums to gratifying productivity. Goodbye writer’s block! Hello, next chapters!

And yes, Lindi and I cancelled Netflix in part because I don’t want the distraction of needing to watch a certain number of movies to make our subscription “worth it.” I want to enjoy the next few months focused with Sharon on completing our manuscript. But this is a big deal for me. I love movies. I used to own my own movie theater. Lindi and I owned a video rental store for more than a decade. We’ve been known to watch five movies in a single day. But not now. It’s time for a break. It’s time to write.

Appropriate to this momentous occasion, the last film we watched from Netflix is called Departures. No, it isn’t a spoof about angry customers leaving Netflix. This Japanese masterpiece won the 2008 Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film. It’s a touching and beautiful look at a special slice of Japanese culture: a newly unemployed cellist who trains to become a “nakanshi” (one who prepares the dead for burial). Departures reveals the sacredness of death, the deep connection between the living and the departed. It reminded me of conversations Sharon and I have had about our ancestors, the bond we share with them, and the feeling that those who came before are with us, somehow, as we travel this healing path together. I was mesmerized from start to finish. Departures is warm, funny, touching, profound and hopeful. For those of you that still have a Netflix subscription, I highly recommend it.

We may well re-subscribe to Netflix. I mean, you can’t protest forever, right? But we’ll wait to decide until after the manuscript is finished.

WRITER’S BLOCK

Some days, writing flows like manna from heaven. I wake up before day with a mental sheaf of ideas rustling in my head. Whole sentences, already formed into grammatically correct paragraphs, clamour to be presented on a page. All I have to do is boot up the computer in time to capture the rush of content before it dissipates into one of those dreams we can never remember.

Then, there are days… and days…. and days…. when I just can’t get anything out.

I sit at the computer and stare at the screen. I check Facebook 99 times an hour. I get involved with the stunning news reports of the day: Riots in England; murders in Mississippi; helping The Help; brooding over my finances (or lack thereof); emailing people I haven’t talked to in years, just to say hello; combing the dog. When those diversions don’t work, I go into my garden to check my tomatoes; water the flowers and whack weeds.

Arghhhhhhhhhh.

My current mission is to draft Chapter 6. Tom is working on Chaper 7. We have mutually committed to switch drafts on Friday. It is this disciplined approach that keeps the machine that culminates in our book rolling onward to our delivery date in December. These two chapters will get us halfway to the end.

Maybe it’s the topic. This week, I am writing about “mercy.” The preceding section, which we completed more than a month ago, was on “truth.”  Mercifully, the truth section tumbled out of my head like a waterfall, perhaps in tribute to Albert Camus’ statement that “Acknowledging the truth will conquer it.” My writing during that time proved his observation beyond doubt. Today, the truth is that I am having a really hard time conquering mercy. Knowing that mercy starts as an individual act that has ripples for everyone else, I long for an act of grace to get me over the mental hurdle of actually writing about it. There is so much going on in the world that cries out for truth, mercy and justice (which is the next section of the book).

I just heard the “bing” of a new email message. I can read that, check Facebook one more time, tune in BBC to see if the streets are still on fire and then… MAYBE I can do what I am really supposed to be doing. Failing that, maybe I’ll take a nap!