I would love to write children’s books – not baby
books, but the easy reader level ones, the ones that help teach a kid to read,
the ones that make kids fall in love with reading. Books like Amelia Bedilia,
Frog and Toad, Little Bear, those are the books I remember reading to my
parents on the couch before bedtime. I was really excited about the
possibilities of being a children’s book author, and in a Children’s Book
Publishing course at Portland State, my dreams were buried as the professor
spent 10 weeks telling us all the reasons it was never. Going. To. Happen. For
any of us. None. Not one person in her class would get a book published. What
the fuck kind of professor was this lady? The kind who is out to make you all
sad, that’s what kind. Her syllabus consisted of all of the reasons why
everyone else will get books published, but not you, and we spent one hour,
three times per week, being beat with the you’ll-never-succeed stick before we
all took our finals and cried on the way out the door.
What I did learn in her class was that unless I
could illustrate my own book (I cannot, as I have no artistic abilities
whatsoever), then the way it works is, you write your book, you give it to the
editor/publisher, and they assign it to an illustrator, who does the artwork
for your words…and then you don’t see the book again until it is like, going to
press! This information sent my obsessive compulsive,
has-to-be-in-control-at-all-times brain whirling. What if the art doesn’t match
what I was saying? What if I hate it? What if I write my whole book and an
artist ruins it by not envisioning my story like I want it? This would just not
do!
Of course, I could just hire someone to do the art and submit the book as a finished product, but I was in college, I didn’t have good ideas like that.
And so, defeated by Professor Sad, I left the
class confident that being a children’s book author was not in the cards for
me.
But I still want to write. And I love to travel.
*Light bulb.* Travel writing! How amazing would my life be if I could go on
vacations, write about my vacations, and get paid to do both!? Umm…totally
amazing, right? I wanted it. I could taste it. I was already writing my trip to
Australia in my head as days passed by sitting in a travel writing class. At
this point in life, all I read was travel essays, whole novels about
so-and-so’s trip around the world, short stories about being lost in airports
or getting lost in a third world country. This genre was all consuming.
I still think, by the way, that I should write a
book about our trip to Australia. We had some funny shit happen, I bet people
would read it. And they’d laugh. I could include excerpts from emails I sent my
mom when Jenny, Nicole and I were stranded in a bus depot or at the airport.
“This is the worst Christmas ever, mom. Love Veronica.”
Q: Why don’t you start writing, Veronica?
A: Uhhmmmmm….awkward blank stare.
After devouring travel books for a while, I became
obsessed with memoirs. I am still obsessed with memoirs. It is my favorite
genre and my favorite section at the bookstore. I sit there, thumbing through
titles thinking, what the hell made this person so special that I am about to
spend $16.99 to read about her life? It isn’t like a biography of a famous
person, I’m not picking up Marilyn Monroe’s life story. These books could have
been written by my next door neighbor, and yet here I am, reading about them. I
recently read a memoir called The Tender Bar. And it was the life story of a
kid whose dad was a drunk and the kid who ended up owning a bar. That was it.
That was the story. And yet, I have loaned it to so many people that I no
longer know where my copy is. It was that good. What the fuck, I have worked in
a bar for 7 years…why is that not in a novel? Oh, right, because I’m lazy.
Even more recently, I bought a memoir called “My
Year with Eleanor.” It was about a girl, my age, who was intrigued by the
quote, Do something every day that scares
you, and decided to tackle it as a 365 day challenge. First of all, I would
totally do this challenge. One year, 365 fears, one tackled each day. Where do
I sign up?! Second, what a brilliant idea! Third, writing about it was an even
more brilliant idea! This was one of the best books I have ever read, and it
was written by some girl who was like 2 years older than me, who randomly based
her life on a quote she liked. My. Hero. And yet, this girl could literally be
me. Maybe I should write my memoir based on my 30 day blog challenge…
Officially accepting book topics. Ready, go...
I think you should write a book called Travels with Jenny, because I imagine most of your trips together are hilarious. It could be a travel memoir.
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