Today we are honored to be hosting the illustrious and critically acclaimed Caroline Leavitt, who is now touring for her most recent novel, Is This Tomorrow. We are giving away three copies of the book to three winners. Here’s a little taste:
Introducing Caroline Leavitt
Caroline Leavitt is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of Pictures of You, which was also on the Best Books of 2011 from the San Francisco Chronicle, The Providence Journal, Bookmarks magazine and Kirkus Reviews. Is This Tomorrow is an Indie Next Pick.
Caroline is a book critic for the Boston Globe, People and the San Francisco Chronicle and she teaches writing privately and at UCLA and Stanford online. Her work has appeared in the New York Times, Salon, More, New York magazine, more.
Learn more at www.carolineleavitt.com.
Learn about This Is Tomorrow from Algonquin Books May 2013
In 1956, Ava Lark rents a house with her twelve-year-old son, Lewis, in a desirable Boston suburb. Ava is beautiful, divorced, Jewish, and a working mom. She finds her neighbors less than welcoming. Lewis yearns for his absent father, befriending the only other fatherless kids: Jimmy and Rose. One afternoon, Jimmy goes missing. The neighborhood—in the throes of Cold War paranoia—seizes the opportunity to further ostracize Ava and her son.
Years later, when Lewis and Rose reunite to untangle the final pieces of the tragic puzzle, they must decide: Should you tell the truth even if it hurts those you love, or should some secrets remain buried?
I asked Caroline three questions about our giveaway’s theme topic, self-expression:
1. Is self-expression an important part of your life today, why or why not?
I would go completely crazy if I couldn’t express myself or show the world who I really am. I learned early on, when I was a sickly, bullied little girl, that being able to escape in story, saved my life I so many wonderful ways. I spent years in high school trying to get my wild curly hair straight so I could be like everyone else. I ironed it, I used chemicals, I even once Scotch taped my whole head to try and set it straight (it was a disaster)! But no matter what I did, I couldn’t look like others and to my amazement when I let my hair do what it wanted, it was the first time I ever got compliments on it!
When I first started to write, I tried to emulate the masters and my work was sort of stiff. But when I sat down and poured out what was haunting me, I never thought anyone else would want to read it. I wrote it for myself, but I ended up selling it and it became a sensation. I’ve found that by being brave enough to go into some of those dark places, I can understand both myself and the world much better.
2. What does self-expression mean to you and how do you do it in the world?
I grew up being made to feel that who and what I was was wrong: I was Jewish in a Christian working class neighborhood. I was smart in a high school where only 10 percent went on to college. And I was sickly. It wasn’t until my senior year of high school that I began to celebrate who I was, to dress flamboyantly, to talk about wanting to be a writer, and to steel myself against the negative comments I would hear.
When I got out in the world, I began to realize that the more I was myself, the more honest and brave I was, the more I could really connect with people. It’s been my honor to talk to people at readings about things that would have shamed me before, and have people come up to afterwards and tell me that they felt the same way and had always been too afraid to talk about it–but now they would! We owe it to everyone to show who we are. To share it.
3. How does your self-expression impact the world—your family, your friends, your readers, and everyone else?
I think being able to be brave and really open up to people, sometimes jumpstarts others to do the same. That old chestnut “the truth will set you free” is really true! I, of course, express myself through my work, but I also express myself in the clothing I wear, the cowboy boots I have to have on, the way I let my hair be wild and curly, even as hair stylists trail after me and beg me to tame it!
Not everyone likes me or my work–but I have learned it is a much more joyful life for me to not hide who I am or what I want, but to be fully present all the time. The most wonderful thing for me is when I get emails from readers or readers come up to me and tell me that they felt my books were speaking directly to them. In digging deeply into what haunts or obsesses me, I had reached others and impacted their lives. What could be more magical than that?
And Now, Your Turn…
You remember how this works right?
Please read the complete rules at least once!
I ask you a question.
You answer in the comments for your chance to win a book each day.
Please just respond once, even if you make a typo. 
Answer in the comments in 50-200 words (no less and no more to qualify to win one of today’s books).
Do you dig deep? Are you brave? Do you go into your dark places? Do you think you will ever share them?
Ready, set, comment! I will hold the drawing tomorrow and post the results here in my blog.
Thanks for participating in the Writer Mama Every-Day-In-May Book Giveaway!
And thanks for spreading the word. We will be giving away great books by wonderful women authors all month.
View the complete list of authors and books.
View the giveaway Pinterest board
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When I sense that it’s safe to be brave and share who I really am than I do that freely, whether that’s on paper or one on one. One place that it’s easy to be brave is in my journaling. Writing in my journal has always been therapeutic, like seeing a counselor. I work out jumbled thoughts and emotions on paper and things become clear. I understand myself better and what’s at stake. After a misunderstanding with someone I find that writing down what I really meant in a letter often clears the air. I’m not sure that I will ever share some of my journaling. Maybe I will when I’m more brave than I am today!
I have a hard time doing the deep because it hurts to go there so much of the time. But when I feel brave, and I enter into those waters, I discover so much about myself, and I find healing. My husband tells me that my best writing comes from expressing myself in these says, but it’s scary to think about putting my very heart out there for others to read or reject. But in some kind of weird way, I feel like I’m supposed to, like it’s what I’m supposed to do in this life. So yes, I will.
I am learning to dig deep and share. It is important to speak ones truth and being honest as a writer is important to the reader. I am just starting to write a memoir and it is already causing waves, causing to me really think about this issue. But I want to be brave. Everyone has dark places and bringing them to light is what helps a reader feel like they are not alone. Making those connections is what I want to do as a writer. So I will try to do deep and bring the dark to light!
I do go into the deep dark places. I long have in my journal, but in recent years I’ve started sharing that whether through my writing or just talking with people, because I’ve learned that sharing some hard, unpleasant things helps take away some of their power. Fear and jealousy and regret and other ugly things can’t get rooted as deeply when you expose them.
Do I dig deep? I would say that I do – and maybe that’s a
reflection not only of who I am (the share-my-feelings-and-analyze-them type), but also of the kinds of fiction I read. I always go for the emotional, tough reads that emanate from deep, dark places where characters really have to “go there” to find contentment. Am I brave? Hmm – that’s debatable since bravery, to me, is so subjective. A woman who seems quiet and reserved – and even mousy to some – may be the bravest person in the world, having been dealt a lifetime of disappointments and pain. Yet she still carries on with grace. Conversely, a boisterous, opinionated woman may appear, on the outside, to be brave because she stands up for what she believes. Is either any more brave than the other? I guess I think I fall in between. Will I ever share my dark places? Yes. I think that’s the most effective way, as Caroline says, to connect with readers. “Sit down and pour out what is haunting you.”
I do dig deep. Sometimes. It depends on what I’m writing. I have noticed that when I can dig deep, my writing is better and satisfying for me personally. I’m not as brave as I’d like to be. There are other things I’d like to explore and write about, however my kids and husband are always in the forefront. You know, “What will they think? Will this make them uncomfortable?” I have been going into one “dark space” with clients, so I do think I’m ready to write about it—especially because it’s a topic that needs “light.”
I do go deep; there are the light moments when deep isn’t appropriate, but when the heart is wanting to be heard, deep is the only way to go. But like others have said, it is scary and at times I will go deep when I feel safe in the arena I am sharing. I really appreciate the way Caroline answered the questions…an inspiration to let go of the constraints and fly in the way we were created to. Perhaps there is another creative soul watching to see if we will fly and it gives them courage to do so as well. I love the hair and clothing issues….perfect “wings” to launch a bird 🙂
I have an idea journal in which I write concepts for articles and story ideas that come to me. Within those pages are stories that scare me.
One story in particular keeps poking my brain. But I fear writing it.
It’s pure fiction, based on my brain constantly asking, “What if…?” Yet, there is fear.
What’s wrong with me if I can come up with something like that? I tell myself, “Look at all the scary movies and books that have done well over the years. No one thinks there’s anything wrong with those writers.” I repeat that as I take a few hesitant steps toward the dark murky waters.
Then I worry what my family and friends will think. I stop just shy of the lake’s edge and stare at the rippling waters. I want to swim
those waters, but I want a rope tied ‘round my waist. A safety measure, something to rein me in if the waters become too thick, too cold, too dark, too impassable.
If I can find a sturdy post to tie my rope, I may try to cross those
waters.
Quite honestly, I want to dig deep and I try to, but sometimes I think I just can’t look at myself objectively enough. I get stuck in the same ruts of self-criticism and call it digging deep and being brave, but it’s really not. It’s the same old criticisms. I’m not learning anything new about myself by acknowledging those things. I do try to dig deep, though.
As to sharing, I sometimes share. I share most frequently with my husband, then my mom, and then sometimes a good friend or two. But the deepest, darkest most hidden things are probably things that I haven’t observed or refuse to observe about myself. No sharing there.
Sometimes I am brave, but at other times fear gets the best of me. It’s something I’m working on – and getting better at one day at a time. I feel amazing in the moments when I am brave, so that feeling helps me go for it more often. I do go into the dark places and journal about them…and sometimes they wind up in one of my characters! :o)
There’s nothing I love reading more than deep, dark truths that resonate intimately with my own life. My own attempts at going to my dark places, when read back, sound too much like my sixth-grade journal for me to feel comfortable sharing them. So honing non-cliched, honest writing that touches deeply is something I am working on.
Honestly, no I don’t dig deep. It’s a lot easier to just repress my emotions and try to act happy all the time. I’m sure someday my feelings will catch up with me but I’m fine with the way I live myself now. I wouldn’t consider myself to be brave. I never do anything that is considered brave. Every time I really think about myself and my feelings it’s just too hard to deal with. I’d much rather live in denial. I think a lot of people probably feel the same but I doubt many people will admit it.
I go into my dark places every day. I was diagnosed with severe PTSD two years ago, and I’ve become an expert at delving into places that many people don’t dare to go. Sometimes, I wish I could board up the doors that lead to my dark places, but I realize that I wouldn’t be passionate about helping other people overcome their obstacles if I didn’t have my own to overcome.
It was just last month when I did The Aha! Moment Telesummit, that I shared my story publically for the very first time. I was amazed at how theraputic this was for me. I felt like I was able to let go of the pain just a little. I’m assuming that the more I share my story, the more I’ll be able to heal. My willingness to use my pain to help others makes me brave!
I feel there’s a fine line between digging deep and revealing too much. Digging deep feels thought-provoking in a soul-searching way and revealing too much feels like a bad reality show where everyone gathers to watch because they’re glad they’re not you. When I’m really wrestling with issues I write them down in a journal, which helps me get through the messiness before I can even start to think about what may be worth sharing with others. At the same time, I don’t believe it serves anyone to gloss over deep issues and make light of them. There is real value to discovering how others have wrestled with issues and found their way through them. I struggle with finding the right edge to that line every time I sit down to write something I think is important.
This is a timely question for me. I am working on a YA that has some dark, and quite frankly, uncomfortable themes to explore and I struggle with how best to depict them. One of my classmates/critique partners actually wrote: “There are deeper themes in this one and it takes risks. I hope that you really take it to a dark place and not worry about safely fitting into a safe category.”
I was also thinking about this topic today when I caught the end of the movie “Girl, Interrupted” on t.v. and remembered a time in my 20s when I went through a very similar situation as the main character in the movie/book. I’m now trying to become brave enough to write some of those parallels down into an essay and possibly market it somewhere. Hey, it’s only taken me 36 years to dig deep!
I can did very deep. When I’ve dug the deepest by exploring
myself, I have been shocked to learn how I feel about the topic. Sometimes I’m impressed with how brave I’ve been and I compare my bravery or lack of bravery with others in my life or whom have been through a similar experience. But of course, no experience is the same or felt the same way and through this
realization, I’ve learned about myself and also about others and the challenges that they have faced and the strength that they have shown themselves.
We all get into dark places. It is what we do or learn about
ourselves that is the key to surviving and becoming more of who we are. I’ve shared my dark places with just myself through journals. Some places are so dark that I feel a new sense of bravery when I review them. Other times, I am rewarded with a sense of strength that I was able to get through a particular experience.
Yes, I dig deep. For me that is where the power of writing
lies, in its ability to help me face my demons and make sense of the hard
stuff. However, sharing that is another question. Through one of my on-line
writing groups I have become braver in sharing and every time I do, my
confidence in that openness grows.
I do go into dark places. I’m not sure I could share them. Sometimes it’s safer to have a place you can go to that no one else can. I think everyone needs that safe place. However, I love having the chance to dig deep and get out my feelings by writing or working on other creative outlets.
Well Christina, with only one more day to go, you got me! So far every question you asked about writing (“Are you confidently
creative?” Do you have good ideas?”) I could answer YES. Today I reluctantly admit that I have not as yet gathered the courage to dig deep into my dark places.
Novelist
Floyd Salas insisted that we must do this if our work is to be believable. I can
still hear him tell our class, “People want to read what you don’t want to tell.” He made us write about a time we felt truly ashamed. And about a time we
hurt someone deeply. We had to tell something we did not have the courage to
admit to our parents or spouse. We also had to practice writing about erotic
experiences, child abuse, and lots of other uncomfortable stuff.
Since this was
a fiction writing class, I often made stuff up. Problem was, Floyd knew. And I
knew he knew. There were several students who could share deeply personal moments
without hesitation. Coincidentally, they were some of the best writers in the
class. Until I can share experiences from my dark places, I know my fiction will be
shallow.
Yes, of course I dig deep; the deeper I feel something, the more motivated I am to write! The first article I published (post babies) was about the death of my father, and the additional challenges his death presented as I was now raising young children without their grandfather. I abhorred (technically, still do) the fact that thy would only know him through stories about him, not through direct experiences. A writer must be able to visit the dark places — temporarily — to tell the complete story compellingly. Readers can spot a phony from far away; some wise writing coach once warned her class about that! Unfortunately, digging deep sometimes means digging dark. But if you can be brave and suffer without a light for a little while, then not only will you face your challenges, but you — and your writing — will inevitably help others in the process.
Being a self-reflective, yes, I dig deep on an ongoing
basis.
Recently, I entered an inner dark place that really took me out. I was in a place of extreme “not knowing” and even so, I wasn’t afraid to be in that dark place of uncertainty. This felt all new to me, the one who tends toward perfectionism, the one with the answers, the go-to person who always has everything figured out.
How freeing it was to answer most questions of the day with “I don’t know, and I’m okay not knowing for now. All I know is I need time out to heal whatever this is that’s broken.” I didn’t even know what was broken. My spirit? My soul? My brain? It didn’t matter. After several weeks of allowing others to take care of me instead of me them, and being in the place of “not knowing” I emerged knowing SO much more about myself, what I truly wanted going forward, and what I will no longer tolerate.
I’m feeling freer and more authentically me than I’ve ever felt in my life. Will I ever share any of this? Geez, I think I just did! And it feels good.
I do go deep in my thoughts but not so often in my writing. I find writing my deepest feelings often makes them stronger and harder to get through. Journalling has not been something I’ve found comfort in for the most part. I seem rehash the same things over and over without moving forward so much. I think the key for me lies in the timing. Writing can be very therapeutic once I have enough distance on an event to detach a bit and put it in perspective. Before that, it’s nothing but fuel for the fire!