THE SUMMER OF LETTING GO - Karma or Coincidence? Countdown (James King)

If you've read this intro already, by all means, skip right down to the guest post!

As many of you know, THE SUMMER OF LETTING GO, my second novel for young adults officially comes out March 25th from Algonquin Young Readers.

THE SUMMER OF LETTING GO tells the story of almost-16-yr-old Francesca “Beans” “Frankie” Schnell who, four years ago witnessed her baby brother, Simon, drown. Guilty and broken, Francesca has hunkered down in the shadows of her life, resolved to play second fiddle to her dead brother’s memory and to her best friend Lisette, a blonde bubbly beauty Francesca lives vicariously through. That is, until she meets a young boy named Frankie Sky who bears an uncanny resemblance to her brother. Frankie brings humor and hope to Francesca’s life, but are all the similarities between Frankie and Simon merely wishful coincidences, or could he be Simon’s reincarnation?

Curious coincidences abound in THE SUMMER OF LETTING GO —not only the overlaps between Simon and Frankie Sky, but also Bradley’s gift to Francesca, Bradley’s bird sighting, and the ties to the statue of  Saint Florian (sorry, you'll have to read to know what these are ;)). Midway through the story Francesca starts to think these events can’t really all just be coincidences, but maybe are “something bigger and magical at work.”

Have you ever experienced strange events that seemed like more than coincidence and made you wonder if fate was at work or that soul and or reincarnation exist?

Throughout the month, I've decided to pose that question to friends, some writers, others bearing other artistic talents, for a brief account of their own experience with karma, kismet or a mystical connection. I leave you to answer the question, “Karma or coincidence? Random or something more magical at work?” 

I hope you find these stories as intriguing and lovely as I do.

- gae

Today,
extraordinary writer and friend,
James King,
author of the always poignant and sometimes funny BILL WARRINGTON'S LAST CHANCE,
a beautifully-written contemporary novel with lots of YA-crossover appeal,

shares this story of his father:


My father suffered from Multiple Sclerosis and spent the last years of his life in a wheelchair. 

The morning after the evening he died, as I was waking, I saw him in his wheelchair by my bed, as if he’d been waiting for me to wake. He didn’t say a word. He looked at me for a moment, then simply stood and walked away. The episode was so vivid I was convinced for a few moments that it was not a dream. 

It freaked me out a bit. But I did appreciate his stopping by to say good-bye.

Jim writes, the incident inspired me to write this poem:

Walking in Dreams

The morning after the day he died,

my father wheeled himself into my

last dream of the night. I waited

for “up and at em,” his Saturday

morning reveille to chores no son

of his was going  to sleep through.

But as always he chose action

over words, gripping the armrests

with a no-back-talk look, pushing

himself out of the hated chair as if he

could have done so all along. He set

his sights on a landmark to his right,

an unknown place he correctly,

infuriatingly assumed was there,

and walked away.

And so I panicked when this morning

my son slouched into my last dream

of the night, eyes fixed on the ground

as his lankiness lurched into each heavy

step. I tried to run to him and throw

my arm over his shoulder. All would be

well, I would assure him. He would smile

like he used to when rounding third

and heading for home. Wherever he was

going, I would say, we could go together.

But my legs worked as they do in dreams:

He kept walking, my legs kept straining,

and the best I could do for him

was wake up.

- Jim

Please check out Jim's book, BILL WARRINGTON'S LAST CHANCE and THE SUMMER OF LETTING GO, especially from your favorite Indie Bookseller or brick and mortar bookstore. And, if you'd like, please share your own karma or coincidence story in the comments. 

- gae

In Which I Talk Like a Truckdriver (sort of ) about Added and Deleted Pools and Neglected Blog Posts

in my pool...

I refuse to look at the last time I blogged... it's not pretty.

I know I tossed a Friday Feedback about how to not write query letters up here completely pointlessly  not too long ago, but how did it get to be the end of October?

Forgive me. Life's been busy.

There's the boy we sent off to college.

this is me with said boy this weekend during Parents Weekend.

And the furry, 8-week old child we got for our other boy to replace help mask the daily loss of his brother in our household.

this is him. He's 16 weeks now. His name is Charlie.
He's a fucktonne of work, but we like him.

There's been the effort to soak in the last open water swims before the water freezes my metaphorical balls off turns way too cold...

Me last week, with my dear friend and "Polar Pod"
cohort, Annmarie.

and the effort to find a new yoga/Pilates studio, even though I effing hate struggle through yoga these days, because I know, just know, it is good for me and I should.

There's, of course, still my part-time "lawyer" work, plus the constant effort to just freaking finish it would you?!?! write a "right" next book that my editor might fricking-for-the-love-of-God-please-just-take love, now that THE SUMMER OF LETTING GO is on the verge of release.

Purdy, right?

(In case you haven't seen it starting to pop up around the web, there it is... well, in the Advance Review softcover version... the actual March release will be in hardcover. Btw, it's getting some Holy-balls! Amazing awesome early reviews. If you want to check them out, you can find them HERE. Also, my uber wonderful new publisher, Algonquin Young Readers, is looking for blogger and reviewer readers to provide feedback on the four of five Spring 2014 AYR books that are now up on NetGalley.

THE SUMMER OF LETTING GO is there by request.

Also, while you're here and in case you haven't, "like" the AYR facebook page and follow them on twitter!)

Anyway, that's some of what's going on... there's my other son's basketball and social life to work around, my husband's singing to listen to and support, and, and, and, and well, yeah, I'm just rattling off lame excuses.

Anyway, last night, after missing several days of open water swimming, I took my first plunge of the season back into the stupid effing  indoor pool. 

I was dreading it, but then ended up loving it. I'll grow bored with it soon enough, and pine for the open water (which I will still manage at least a few more ball-curdling swims in), but last night it was peaceful and soothing and, yet somehow, also invigorating.

As most of you know who follow me here, I do my best writing IN THE WATER. The trick being to remember what I wrote in my head while swimming, and make it translate as brilliantly when I ultimately make it back to dry land. Something that rarely happens.

Anyway, while I was swimming, I was thinking of all the story line fixes, character enhancements, and other writing keys that have come to me while swimming. The original germ of the idea for THE SUMMER OF LETTING GO came to me in the pool, and most my manuscripts have some element of story that revolves around the water.

Not a drop of water in THE PULL OF GRAVITY
but there almost was... ? 

BUT, THE PULL OF GRAVITY is different. It's my land book -- maybe partly because I wrote it back when I had just started to swim obsessively again. While swimming last night, I suddenly remembered that after the book sold, I decided to try to sneak a water scene in. Luckily, I thought better of it, and deleted it before I turned revisions in to my editor. But I decided to see if I could find it, dig it out and humiliate myself. So, here it is. This is in the hotel in Rochester after Jaycee has fallen deep into the fever. :) 

She falls back to sleep, and I pace the room, trying to come up with something useful, some sort of idea or plan. Then I think about what Jaycee said, about how useless plans usually are.  It makes me laugh to think of it.  I mean, look how right she was. I am pacing like this when Jaycee suddenly jumps up and starts to put on her shoes.

“Hey, where you going?” I call. She looks past me, walks with ghost eyes in a hurry. I know the look. It’s the look that will lead you to a water tower.

“I’m going to find him,” she says. “Before Scooter dies.”

It kills me. It makes me want to cry.

“It’s not time yet, Jaycee.” I put my hands on her shoulders and shake her a little. I can tell she’s cooled down some, that there’s been at least a little break in her fever. This alone sometimes sets off the hallucinations.

I shake her some more, but she’s caught in the delirium of it, yanks away from me and pulls her Converse on, tripping and stuff, as she heads out the hotel room door.

I race after her. At first I’m just worried, but then, honestly, I’m a little curious. Besides, I’m watching her, so I won’t let her get into too much trouble.

She takes the stairwell, two at a time, toward the lobby, and heads out. She blows past the closed gift shop and concierge desk which is still empty at this early hour, then turns and heads back through the lobby toward the exercise room and the pool. She yanks the door to the pool open and walks in. I run after her.

There’s a lifeguard behind a counter sorting and stacking a huge pile of white towels into a bin. He glances up and says, “Morning, early swim?” but you can tell he’s too tired and doesn’t really care.

“Yeah,” I call, picking up my pace because I’m pretty sure she’s going to jump in.

At the edge of the pool, she stops though, takes off her sneakers, and starts to wade down the steps of the shallow end. The water seeps up the bottom of her Marshall J. Freeman sweats, darkening the green to black as she makes her way down each step.

“Jaycee!” I yell. Then louder, “Jaycee!”

At the same time, the lifeguard dude sees and rushes over. “Hey, kid, you can’t go in there in your clothes!”

Jaycee must hear the strange voice or something, stops and turns, looks at me, then him, then me again. And then it registers, I can see it, her eyes scanning, finally taking the reality in.

See? It once existed but never saw the light of day. I promise you, it's not in there. 

Smart move deleting, right? 

Now if only I'd deleted this post.

xoxo gae