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The Author's Guest Post
10 Favorite Authors
& Why
When I was a
kid, I catalogued my books. I was
thrilled to learn that I owned over 500 by the time I was in fifth grade: is it
any wonder I later went on to get a Masters in Library Science? That being said, it’s always been
challenging for me to choose favorite authors or favorite books, but I’ll do my
best. This top ten list consists
of the authors who have influenced me in some way, but it’s by no means
exhaustive. In no particular
order, here are ten authors who are vital to me.
Anne Lamott
Whenever I
am feeling crummy about writing or life in general, I reach for my tattered
copy of Bird by Bird. I love Lamott’s wit and voice, and her
work is spot-on. I’ve read some of
her other nonfiction, and she remains one of the most impactful author’s on my shelf. She reminds me to take it all one piece
at a time, and to accept that first (and even second) drafts are NEVER
beautiful.
Susan Cooper
My fifth
grade teacher introduced me to Cooper when he read Over Sea, Under Stone aloud and then followed it up with a class
reading of The Dark is Rising. Every year since, I’ve tried to re-read
The Dark is Rising in the depths of
winter. Cooper showed me what it
looked like to play with myth and magic in a storybook setting, and I continue
to marvel at her elegant stories.
“Carolyn Keene”
I know a
whole host of women (and men) penned the Nancy
Drew books, but the pen name is known and loved by many. The different people who wrote as
Carolyn Keene introduced me to the mystery genre, and taught me that a girl
with good hair could survive any cruelty.
Nancy Drew forever!
Margaret Mitchell
When I first
read Gone with the Wind, I don’t
think I appreciated how revolutionary Mitchell was. Sure, she wrote about stereotypes, but she also wrote about
strong women who could face anything and not only survive, but thrive. Scarlet and Melanie are probably my
favorite literary foils ever.
Joseph Campbell
The man
wrote about myths and said, “Follow your bliss”. How can I not love him? He’s my guru!
Virginia Woolf
When I finally
read “A Room of One’s Own”, it resonated.
Woolf was a pioneering woman, and I think it’s at least partly because
of the risks she took that modern women are finding their way to creative
careers. Her words continue to
inspire me.
Rick Riordan
Again, it’s
the myth thing. But it’s also my
teacher-self that puts Riordan on this list: that man has made more children
crazy about reading than years of academic instruction can do. I tip my hat to the mythic story
machine that is Riordan, and I love him for the impact he’s continuing to make
in young readers’ lives.
Ray Bradbury
The Halloween Tree. Fahrenheit 451. Zen in the Art of
Writing. Need I say more?
Charles Dickens
I love his
lengthy, sprawling style, and the way he created such memorable caricatures as
characters. We’ll never forget
Ebenezer Scrooge or Madame Defarge.
William Shakespeare
Mom read
“The Tempest” to me when I was 8.
That statement alone should explain SO much about my hopelessly dorky
love of the Bard.
Well, there you have some of my all-time favorites. Which authors have transformed your
life?
The Burning of Isobel Book Description
Contemporary New Adult
Title: The Burning of Isobel Key
Author - Jen McConnel
Date to be Published: October 1, 2012
Synopsis:
When Lou travels to Scotland, she’s a mess. She’s twenty-six, unemployed, and unsure of herself. It doesn’t help that she’s traveling with Tammy, her best friend, who is everything Lou is not.
At first, the trip pushes Lou towards the brink of depression, but then she meets Brian, a handsome local tour guide. When Brian tells the tourists about the countless witches burned in Scotland, Lou starts to listen. And when she discovers information about Isobel Key, one of the victims of the seventeenth century, Lou finds renewed purpose.
Lou has begun exploring the Neo Pagan faith, a dramatic shift from her wealthy Catholic upbringing. Despite her fears of being too “hocus pocusy”, Lou turns to her new faith as she struggles to unravel the mystery surrounding the death of Isobel Key. But faith or not, Lou must face her demons if she has any hope of righting the wrongs of the past.
Here's An Excerpt
CHAPTER ONE
“I quit!” Lou’s words
echoed around the checkout line, and customers craned their necks to see what was
happening. Red in the face, Lou looked
down at her register in embarrassment.
Her manager patted her shoulder.
“Let’s go back in the office to talk about
this.” He turned, expecting her to
follow.
Author Bio & Links
Jen McConnel first began writing poetry as a child. Since then, her words have appeared in a variety of magazines and journals, including Sagewoman, PanGaia, and The Storyteller (where she won the people’s choice 3rd place award for her poem, “Luna”).
She is also an active reviewer for Voices of Youth Advocates (VOYA), and proud member of SCBWI, NCWN, and SCWW.
A Michigander by birth, she now lives and writes in the beautiful state of North Carolina. When she isn't crafting worlds of fiction, she teaches writing composition at a community college. Once upon a time, she was a middle school teacher, a librarian, and a bookseller, but those are stories for another time.
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When Lou travels to Scotland, she’s a mess. She’s twenty-six, unemployed, and unsure of herself. It doesn’t help that she’s traveling with Tammy, her best friend, who is everything Lou is not.
At first, the trip pushes Lou towards the brink of depression, but then she meets Brian, a handsome local tour guide. When Brian tells the tourists about the countless witches burned in Scotland, Lou starts to listen. And when she discovers information about Isobel Key, one of the victims of the seventeenth century, Lou finds renewed purpose.
Lou has begun exploring the Neo Pagan faith, a dramatic shift from her wealthy Catholic upbringing. Despite her fears of being too “hocus pocusy”, Lou turns to her new faith as she struggles to unravel the mystery surrounding the death of Isobel Key. But faith or not, Lou must face her demons if she has any hope of righting the wrongs of the past.
Here's An Excerpt
CHAPTER ONE
“I quit!” Lou’s words
echoed around the checkout line, and customers craned their necks to see what was
happening. Red in the face, Lou looked
down at her register in embarrassment.
Her manager patted her shoulder.
“Let’s go back in the office to talk about
this.” He turned, expecting her to
follow.
“No!” Louder than she’d intended, Lou stood
her ground. “You heard me. I’ve had enough of this store.” As she spoke,
she tossed her nametag on the counter.
An errant brown curl flipped over her eye, and she pushed it away. Under the shocked gaze of her manager and
the curious stares of a snake-like line of holiday shoppers, Lou fled.
Once she was outside in the bitter December
wind, she headed for the nearest T stop, acting out of habit more than conscious
thought. She’d walked this easy route
between the bookstore and the T for the past four years, and her body took over
while her mind churned.
She had a college degree, for Pete’s sake! Cum laude from Duke University had
landed her a job selling books and stationary to the snobby suburbanites outside
of Boston. Sighing, she paid her fare
and took her seat on the train bound for the city center.
Suddenly, the weight of what she had done hit
her, and she buried her face in her hands. What was she thinking, quitting her job like that? Lou replayed the afternoon in her mind. Nothing had happened today that hadn’t happened
a thousand other times. Maybe it was
the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back: four years of answering bizarre
questions and customers who were always right had finally taken its toll on her
psyche.
But now what would she do? Lou wasn’t a person who acted on impulse:
she was cautious and considered her options. And now she was unemployed the week before Christmas. Lou slumped in her seat. Unless she figured something out, and fast,
she might have to move back in with her family. It wasn’t that Lou had anything against her family, not really:
her parents had adopted her shortly after her birth, and they’d never made her feel
like anything but their cherished only child. But Lou was almost 27, and it had never been part of her plan
to live at home after college. Part
of her plan: that was funny, she thought. It sounded like she’d ever had a plan.
Sure, she always knew that she’d attend college
after high school. With parents who
had both made careers in the medical field, Lou had never doubted that she’d follow
their lead and soak up as much education as she could. Money wasn’t an issue, so when she turned
18 and Duke University accepted her, she thought it would be ideal. She moved to North Carolina and spent four
years studying the liberal arts, unable to decide on a tangible career path. Nothing seemed to fit, and even though she
earned her degree, she didn’t really know what she was going to do after college. It was lucky that her best friend needed
a roommate in Boston, Lou mused, or she might have ended up back with her parents
four years ago.
Shaking her head, Lou glanced up as the train
rolled to a stop. Standing unsteadily,
she tried to ignore the raging pity party in her mind. As the doors whooshed open,
the cold winter air assaulted her again.
For the first time she realized that she’d left her coat behind in the employee
lounge. Hesitating for a moment, Lou
considered taking the train back and getting her things.
“There’s no going back,” she whispered. Even the excuse of her coat might be enough
to put her back in her manager’s office, begging for her job back. Shivering, Lou hurried up the stairs and
out of the tunnel. The old black light
posts were swathed in candy cane stripes, and every window she passed displayed
some holiday decorations. What a time
to be unemployed, Lou thought sourly as she buzzed the doorman at her apartment.
Unlocking the door on the seventeenth floor,
Lou called out nervously, “Hello? Tammy?” Her roommate didn’t answer, and Lou felt
relieved. She wasn’t ready to face
anyone yet, not until she’d figured out her next step. Checking the kitschy clock on the wall of
the hallway, Lou realized it was only a quarter after four. Tammy wouldn’t be home ‘til seven or later. Relaxing, Lou stacked her boots neatly in
the hall closet and headed to the kitchen.
The sleek, modern kitchen was a mess:
remnants from Tammy’s last party were still strewn across the stainless countertops. Sighing, Lou plugged in the electric kettle
and searched for a mug. While she waited
for the kettle to whistle, she started to tidy up. She loaded the dishwasher carelessly and overfilled the soap
container, but when she was done the room looked much more presentable. Satisfied, Lou added a packet of hot chocolate
to the mug. After a moment’s hesitation,
she stirred a hearty dollop of vanilla vodka into the chipped Disney World souvenir.
Leaning against the counter, Lou studied the
apartment. The kitchen was open to
the rest of the space, and from her vantage point, Lou could see the living room
and the stairs that led to her lofted bedroom. She sighed, wondering how much longer she’d get to enjoy this
apartment with her best friend. Her
parents had helped her out with bills from time to time, but Lou felt certain that
all assistance of this kind would stop if they found out she was no longer employed.
“What’s the matter with me?” She wondered out
loud, tears in her eyes. Taking her
mug, she crossed to the living room and flopped down on the fluffy red sofa. She began flipping aimlessly through the
stack of magazines on the coffee table.
Suddenly, her cell phone buzzed in her pocket. Glancing at the cracked screen, Lou saw
that it was Tammy calling. Sighing,
she flipped the phone open.
“Hello?”
Tammy’s voice was crackly but excited. “Lou? Guess what? You’ll never guess what happened!”
Lou sighed, annoyed. “What?”
“They gave me an account!” Tammy squealed in delight. “Did you hear?”
“Tammy, that’s amazing!”
“And the best part is, guess where the account
is based? Guess!”
Not wanting to play games, Lou asked, “Would
you just tell me?”
“Scotland! Isn’t that awesome?”
Stunned speechless, Lou just stared at the
phone.
“Lou! Louisa! Are you still there?”
She shook herself. “Yes, I’m here. Tammy, that’s great!”
“I know! They want me to go over there next
week to check things out and meet everybody.”
“But isn’t next week Christmas? What about your family?”
Tammy laughed. “They won’t care.
But Lou, wouldn’t it be perfect to spend Christmas in Scotland?”
Lou agreed that it would be. She ignored the small bubble of jealousy
starting to form in her heart.
“Tammy, I’m really excited for you.”
“For us, you mean.”
“What are you talking about?”
Tammy’s voice broke into a garbled stream of
words.
“Tammy!” Lou shouted. “I can’t hear you.”
“In the T…we’ll talk… home…”
The cell phone made a crunching sound and the
call dropped. Lou looked at her phone
and leaned back into the couch cushions.
Wasn’t it just like fate to give Tammy something so wonderful, she mused,
when she was so miserable? Sniffing,
Lou drained her cup of spiked cocoa and headed upstairs to lie down.
Author Bio & Links
Jen McConnel first began writing poetry as a child. Since then, her words have appeared in a variety of magazines and journals, including Sagewoman, PanGaia, and The Storyteller (where she won the people’s choice 3rd place award for her poem, “Luna”).
She is also an active reviewer for Voices of Youth Advocates (VOYA), and proud member of SCBWI, NCWN, and SCWW.
A Michigander by birth, she now lives and writes in the beautiful state of North Carolina. When she isn't crafting worlds of fiction, she teaches writing composition at a community college. Once upon a time, she was a middle school teacher, a librarian, and a bookseller, but those are stories for another time.
Thanks for hosting me today! :)
ReplyDeleteMy pleasure! It sounds like a fantastic book :)
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