The Promise
By Guest | March 31, 2012 |
Please welcome today’s guest, Jennifer Gooch Hummer. Jennifer is the debut author of a YA novel called Girl Unmoored. What’s the book about?
Apron Bramhall has come unmoored. It’s 1985 and her mom has passed away, her evil stepmother is pregnant, and her best friend has traded her in for a newer model. Fortunately, she’s about to be saved by Jesus. Not that Jesus—the actor who plays him in Jesus Christ, Superstar. Apron is desperate to avoid the look-alike Mike (no one should look that much like Jesus unless they can perform a miracle or two), but suddenly he’s everywhere. Until one day, she’s stuck in church with him—of all places. And then something happens; Apron’s broken teenage heart blinks on for the first time since she’s been adrift.
Mike and his grumpy boyfriend, Chad, offer her a summer job in their flower store, Apron’s world seems to calm. But when she uncovers Chad’s secret, coming of age becomes almost too much bear. She’s forced to see things the adults around her fail to—like what love really means and who is paying too much for it.
Jennifer has worked as a script analyst for various agencies and major film studios. Her short stories have been published in Miranda Magazine, Our Stories, Glimmertrain and Fish. She has continued graduate studies in the Writer’s Program at UCLA, where her work was nominated for the 2006 Kirkwood Prize in fiction.
The Promise
Let’s face it: no one really cares if you ever write that book. Of course that’s not true if you’ve a) been given an advance or b) taken out a loan to get your MFA. Then plenty of people, including your parents and/or landlord, care. A lot.
But I’m not talking about those writers. I’m talking about people who have dreamed of writing a book for as long as they can remember but who have lots and lots of other things and people to take care of on a daily basis.
Now I’m not saying people won’t tell you they care. Everyone wants to see the people they love happy. My husband likes his chances a whole lot better when I slide into bed after a good day rather than a bad one. And my kids prefer a request rather than a bark. And my dog prefers a clap over a yank. But their reasons for seeing you succeed are usually somewhat selfish. And once these time-suckers have gotten whatever it is they were after, the: You’re still working on that? How can there still be more to do, you’ve been writing it for ten years? Thanks a lot Mom, we all know you love (fill in character’s name) more than you love us start flowing again. Freely.
It’s very, very tempting to hurl your computer at the window, just narrowly missing the time-sucking heads that uttered these remarks. But it’s a risk that I’m guessing most of us aren’t willing to take. And anyway, you can kind of see their point, right? It’s insanity to stare at a computer for ten years with approximately zero to show for it, save a trashcan icon full of rejections.
But dreams are like mercury; they can never really be destroyed.
I’ve tried to pay my kids not to eat dinner. And I’ve hinted to my husband that they take untraceable bills at Happy Endings Massage down the street. But no one ever takes me up on these very generous offers. Which means many times throughout the day, I have to abandon my character in whatever precarious position they may be in and attend to the needs of the living.
Perhaps you’re familiar with this scenario.
And perhaps, once you’ve clawed your way out of your daily duties, placed the toothpicks in between your eyelids, and maybe taken just the tiniest sliver off one of your kid’s Adderall pills, you return to those characters only to have forgotten how they ever got stuck there in the first place. Which is really bad if they’re naked.
This, you suddenly understand, is when it’s time to quit. What is the point? You’ll never get an agent, you’ll never get a book deal, and chances are you’ll never even get the thing finished.
“I quit.”
“Promise?” the time-suckers blink and smile and clap.
“Yep,” you nod. “I pro” –
But then it hits you.
Promise. You promised your characters you’d tell their story. You promised them that if they showed up at that horrid blank page ready to go, you would too. You promised them that wherever the book ended up or didn’t end up, you would do your job, you would write their story.
My character, Apron, knocked on my head when I was ten years old. I have no idea where the name “Apron” came from. I tried to tell her story. I even tore my eyes off David Cassidy doing what he did on The Partridge Family to start “A Girl Named Apron” in a red spiral notebook (which I still have). But her story would not come. I’ve heard it said that if the spark of inspiration is ignored, it will move onto another artist until it’s taken seriously. I wanted Apron to say with me. “I promise, I’ll tell your story if you just stick around for a while.” So she crossed her freckly arms and stared at me through the screen for a decade or two until I met my friend Mike. And then I got it.
“Actually, I’m not quitting.”
“Aw, Mom, you promised.”
“That’s right,” you stare at them all Don Draper-like. “I did. And I’m giving you ten bucks not to eat dinner tonight.”
“Ucch.”
“Now go tell your father I need to talk to him.”
Promise your characters you will tell their story, no matter what. It will get you to the finish line.
I promise.
Thanks for a great post, Jennifer! Readers, you can learn more about Jennifer by visiting her website, and by following her on Facebook and Twitter. (And psst: Jennifer has a pretty cool contest going on at her blog right now. Click HERE to check it out.)
Photo courtesy Flickr’s Colton Witt Photography
Many thanks to today’s guest.
You can read more WU guest posts by visiting this link.
“I’ve heard it said that if the spark of inspiration is ignored, it will move onto another artist until it’s taken seriously.” Love this!
Great and inspiring post, Jennifer! I can relate to all of it. I hereby promise to tell my characters’ stories, lest they move on to someone else to get the job done.
Although I don’t recall making my characters’ a specific promise, it must’ve been implicit to them in the nearly ten-ish years I’ve spent trying to bring their story to worthiness. I’ve toyed with the idea of moving on several times, and they fighting their way back to the fore, batting aside anything else vying for my attention and time.
Thanks for the clear illustration of what’s going on here, Jennifer. Good luck to you and Apron!
Awesomely fun post. I’d never thought about it exactly this way, but I can attest to a sense of obligation when it came to writing (to the characters, to myself…I guess I wasn’t sure…)
Anyway- I love YA, and this is one I’d pick up. Love the name Apron. Can’t wait to see what happens with Jesus!
Thank you for this inspiring post. I personally can relate to the time suckers that pull me away from my writing. You really hit home for me!
Weird. Subversive. But, I like the way you think. I’m at one of those who-cares?, let-it-all-go crossroads myself. You have bucked me up to reenter the fray. I feel like that captured Viking in, of all things, ‘The Vikings’ who took a deep breath and leaped into the pit of wild dogs rather than go softly into that good night. Once more unto the breach, what?
I live in Seattle, a city of many writers. I bet a Happy Endings Massage franchise just down the street would be a HUGE money-maker. Hmmm . . .
Thanks for the laughs and the reminders. “Apron” is just about the best name I have ever heard. Can’t wait to read it!
I think one of the hardest lessons I had to learn, for myself, about writing is that I need to maintain a flow. I never thought about making promises to my character but that is totally it.
If I don’t make some kind of commitment to them, they’ll probably all suffocate under dust! Thank you so much for this post.
I can personally relate to this! Some people scoff at the idea of having this story inside of you that NEEDS to be told… But it really feels that way!
Oh, ha! Any writer who’ll publicly admit to these out-of-the-box solutions when the rest of us just think about them… Needless to say, I love your moxie.
I agree with Jan. Love your moxie, and we’ll definitely be checking out your YA novel. (And add me to the list of folks who love the name Apron.) Thanks for being with us today, Jennifer!
Love, love, love this post! As I talk regularly to my characters in my head, (and sometimes live vicariously through them), why have I never thought of making them this promise? Thanks :)
If it’s not people taking your time, it’s everything else. I am in a perfect situation to write and still don’t get to it. Reading too many blogs! Really enjoyed this, but beware placing blame, it will probably come home to roost.
How exasperating it is to have our darling “timesuckers” ask why we’re STILL working on something! But you’re right–the story has to be told, as any writer will say, and will claw at your insides until it comes out. I’m so glad Apron survived. I’d definitely like to hear her story! :)
That’s an awesome post, Jennifer. No dinner at our house tonight! (Now I need to get off the internet.)
[…] I had the chance to post this on Writer Unboxed. This was a huge honor. I didn’t know what to write, because, really, most […]
I love this post! Reading it gave me a kick in the pants to not give up on my novel, which is slowly falling by the wayside in my life. The idea of a promise to your characters is something I hadn’t really heard or thought of before, and I love it. Thank you for sharing!
Can’t believe I never thought of offering my kids money to not eat. Now, if only I could get them to stop wearing clothes I’d be in business.
Thanks for the inspiration.