Welcome and thank you to our January featured author, Jo-Ann Mapson.
Over my twenty-plus years of in publishing, I have experienced the highs
of seeing a book made into a TV movie, and my career fall off the map
completely. When Solomon’s Oak was
published in 2010, I was stunned. My previous publisher had dropped me for low
sales figures (which ironically today would be great sales figures). My agent
and I had a frank discussion before she began submitting the book. “Your sales record counts against you,” was
mentioned often enough that I understood clearly that it might be time for a
pseudonym. Yes, I was disheartened, but
I had also had a frank talk with myself.
You have published nine novels. That’s more than most people do in a
lifetime. Maybe your time is over. Maybe from now on you will read and make jam
and learn how to knit. And that’s
OK.
essentially, my career started over. I
received a low advance. My expectations
were cautious. For one thing, I was older
by twenty years, which I’ll talk about later this month, I promise.
videos. Specifically, this interview series,
what it can do, what I learned from them, and why I think they are essential not
only to promoting your book, but also providing a connection between writer and
reader—especially now that the bookstores are disappearing–again.
publishing experience in 2012 versus 1992.
What was different? Gone were the
days of national book tours, staying in 5-star hotels on the publisher’s nickel,
and eating dinners for which the publisher paid. Also absent for a large chunk of writers were national
reviews, print advertising, magazine interviews, and radio spots. It didn’t happen overnight. Venues like the Los Angeles Times Book Review, which had nearly always reviewed me,
and had space to list events, were long buried. Newspapers and magazines were
folding. Book trailers began to appear
online, ranging from way too long discussions with the writer to minute-long,
musical soundtrack only, images to short film.
interviewed and be envious that no one had asked me to do such an event. Then I saw and admired video a local
filmmaker had done of my friend and former student, novelist Judi Hendricks.
glimpse into the story, this was about Judi, the person, the writer, her
passion for baking, her mutt dog, Blue, and a brief tour of her impressive
Stamm house. What it did for the reader
was provide a close-up, intimate, coffee klatch.
thousand of her original artworks, mainly photorealistic landscapes and
portraits done in colored pencil. She
felt she had nothing more to say in those formats, and turned to film.
towns. I live outside of town, on a
couple acres and dirt roads. Lois lives
in town; Judi, midway between each of us. The writing and film were our
connections. Impressed with the video
she’d done for Judi, I began saving up money for a film Lois could make about
me, since I knew there was no chance my publisher would cover it. Lois and I talked on the phone a few times,
and she said to jot down topics I wanted to cover. This proved to be difficult for a number of
reasons. One, who am I that anyone would
be interested to watch for 3 minutes or longer? One of the difficulties of accessing that public
self is being a writer in the first place.
I’d be thrilled to stay at home all the time, to write and receive
checks. Alas, especially now, there is a
need for publicity. So Lois came to my
house one hot summer day. We’d planned to just chat, shoot some footage of my
dogs, and then schedule a date for the “actual” filming.
What happened next was spontaneous and perhaps the best way
to access information from a writer. She
sat me down and started asking me broad questions. What’s important to you? Why do you write? If you couldn’t write anymore, what would you
do? The dogs flitted in and out,
bringing toys, begging for attention, and their distractions made us laugh. I began to see how she’d potentially use them
for a narrative thread. That relaxed
me. We moved through various rooms, Lois
commented on art and furniture, the taxidermy raven in my office. I answered questions, told stories, and we focused
on various objects, giving a kind of informal rambling tone to the topics, but
connecting them as well. We shot film
all day. It was exhausting. Exhaustion is as much a tool as any
photographic cut, aperture, or special effect.
I realize this because as the day went on, the better the footage
became.
wanted to talk about my marriage.”
man. I don’t think long term relationships
are”—pause, while I gathered my thoughts, my nerves shot, words escaping me—“praised
enough.” There is a moment after that
where I pause, then say, “I love my husband.”
result’s opening scene. It reveals the
true self of a writer, and love is the core issue I write about.
kitchen, making a batch of raspberry jam, but most of the film that made it
into the final cut happened that first day.
Jam is my one culinary thrill, a way to share Santa Fe’s local fruits
and vegetables. These are the gifts I give my family every Christmas. I’d like to say I’m really accomplished at
it, but the truth is, making jam is easy.
It is also a lot like writing a story.
hot jam into glass jars while Lois was packing up to go home. As I scraped the last spoonful of ruby red
jam from the pot, I took it into the dining room where Lois was and said, “Have
a taste.”
a slightly smart aleck sixty-year-old woman writer who cares more about reading
than she does a clean house (Remember that, if you ever drop by
unannounced. Chances are the dog hair
will cover everything like sheen).
Noble, or my website, a reader forms a more intimate bond, I think, than
reading a bio on a jacket flap. What do
you think?
Jo-Ann Mapson is the author of eleven novels and a book of short stories. Her work is widely anthologized and her literary papers are being collected by Boston University’s Twentieth Century Author’s Collection. Finding Casey, featuring some of the characters from Solomon’s Oak, was published October 2012. Core faculty and co-creator of The University of Alaska Anchorage’s low-residency MFA Program in Writing, she lives with her husband and their three Italian greyhounds in Santa Fe, New Mexico, where she is at work on a new novel. Owen’s Daughter will be published in 2014 by Bloomsbury Publishers. Meet her on YouTube or at her website.
Nicely done. I wouldn't generally watch these, but I'm glad I did. I particularly like the line about dogs making us better people. And I agree it's humanizing and charming and many readers will connect with it. The writer seems very at ease and gracious. And the jam looks delicious…
Trouble is, I can't for the life of me imagine putting my private self–family, home–out there on the internet. (Not that anyone's asking me to!) Hopefully not everyone has to do this to succeed.
That's one of the hardest things about this publishing environment. There's more of a one-size-fits-all expectation. "You must" do a website, social media, videos, whatever. Leaves little room for the many different types of personalities and temperaments and comfort levels. Despite the focus on an individual in the video (and the obvious success of this one), the process seems vaguely homogenizing of all writers to me.
Does anyone else have this?
Someone else recommended the video to me and I found it on the internet. I think it's wonderful how it captures you as a person and as a writer. I'm glad you wrote about it so now I know more! 🙂
Loved this ~ as always ~ and go in search of your videos that lend another vital dimension to who you are. I'm so astounded by the generous sharing of your life and feel like I've found a true friend even though we've never met in person. A bit effusive gushing here perhaps, but I love your house, your art, your dogs, your clothes, your jams and marmalades and your sweet faced husband and not necessarily in that order; that I love your writing is a given. Thanks for making me smile.