He told us everything; he left so much unsaid.

I became more intrigued just as he was jetting off to catch a plane, and the group interview with Nicholas Sparks, author of the book, Nights in Rodanthe, (and The Notebook), was coming to its close. The movie, starring Richard Gere and Diane Lane, opens in theaters September 26, 2008.
Sparks cited Dickens’ famous sentence in literature, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,” as the epitome of literary efficiency. “I would be considered lightly edited,” Sparks says, because “one of the tenets under which I write is efficiency… efficiency is incredibly important to develop in quality literature.”
He told us everything.
When asked how he is able to write such well-rounded female characters, he said, “I have not the slightest idea.” Although he does have a standard group of answers, all true: “I had a wonderful mother. I married very well. All of the most important people in my life at the present time and throughout my publishing career have been women.”
He also told us how he writes half of a novel, and sends this to his agent, a creating writing major, who does a pretty significant line edit. “She suggests deletions of passages.” From there, the book goes to his editor, “who fills in story gaps.” And if you’re wondering about timing, “I could do, for most of the vast majority of my books, a total editing process of less than 24 working hours.” His first book was the same.
He sold pharmaceuticals, but didn’t want to do this for the rest of his life. He had a wife, kids and a mortgage, and wasn’t interested in climbing the corporate ladder. “So, I asked, what can I do in my spare time and chase my dream and try to make it? What could I conceivable do?” He had already written two novels, one at 19 and one at 22. “So when I sat down at 28 I said Okay, I’m going to give myself three chances to write a novel and if I don’t succeed, then I’ll know I’m not cut out to be a writer.”
The first novel, which he wrote over a six month period, was The Notebook. He says, “It wasn’t as hard, it was more the consistency of putting yourself in the chair and doing it.” He never missed a day of work, didn’t miss much sleep, and didn’t miss spending time with the family because they were in bed most of the time he worked. He worked once the kids went to bed at 9, and wrote until 12, and half a day on the weekends.
What He Left Unsaid.
Sparks’ book, Three Weeks with My Brother, was based on his trip around the world, and his twofold struggle. “I was at a point in my life when I was very, very busy. And the number two, finding a way to enjoy it. And that was really what the journey that I was going through was about.”
“By the time I went it felt almost as it it was a burden to go. And that is a shame because that reflects an imbalance in your life. And to correct that imbalance took time.”
The answers to the puzzle of how Sparks corrected that imbalance can be found in his book, Three Weeks with My Brother. So, Mr. Sparks, what new revelations can you share with us as the book left your heart? A book that was difficult to write, because of the challenge of “reliving experiences that I’d rather not get emotionally close to again,” he said. “There were tragedies that struck my family and I needed to go back to those places, to put you back there.”
After he admitted he will take such a trip again, he was asked, “Has your wife taken a similar trip?” No, he said. “Does she plan to?” Sparks said, “Maybe not three weeks, but without question, she will.”
Will there be a Three Weeks With My Brother Part II? Still, I”m left wondering, why isn’t his wife taking a three week trip, reaping the benefits of the lesson her husband learned about correcting imbalances in one’s life?
I grew up in a sleepy little town, and when my Mom wasn’t sewing, or crocheting, she was reading. Mesmerized, she was, as my Dad watched TV, and she had her head buried in a book. Completely oblivious to the scenes on the television, and my Dad’s laughter at the punch lines.
When I was old enough and ready, she took me down to the local fire-station, which also housed our town library, and introduced me to the librarian. From there, I was directed to the Nancy Drew section, and The Secret of the Clock was placed in my hands. These were my Mom’s favorite books when she was a growing up, and they soon became mine too.
I soon learned about my Mom’s peculiar habit: She would read the last page of the book, and then decide if she wanted to read the rest of the book! “But then, you know who did it, and the story is ruined!” But to her, the fun was in watching how the author strung the characters, the plot and the mystery all together.
I have never once, in my life, read the last page of a book first. I earn the right to read the last page of the book. Still, my Mom and I shared a vast passion of mystery books, even though I often had to remind her that, I did not want to know the ending. From Nancy Drew, I jumped to artsy mysterious, like Griffin & Sabine: The Complete Postcards.
When I traveled, there was a time when I always had a Lillian Jackson Braun Cat Mystery audio book in the car. Mr. Quilleran was quite comforting to listen to while driving. Then, I found the Kinsey Millhone Mysteries, and my Mom read them as fast as they were published. “I wonder what she’ll write for “X”,” we would say.
Have you read Blue Jelly: Love Lost and the Lessons of Canning? I love that book, and no, it isn’t a mystery.
When MotherPie asked about the books I read, I immediately thought of how much time I do spend reading picture books right now, and how much I adore picture books. Some make me cry, some make me laugh, and I’m so grateful I’ve had 12 years to have someone to read them to. Favorites? My Lucky Day, Blue Bowl Down: An Appalachian Rhyme
, The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane
, and of course the narcoleptic, Little Red Riding Hood. Actually, I can think of 100 more of them to list right here… but I won’t. I have never liked Dr. Seuss, but, my boys do, so I’ve read more than I care to remember of Dr. Seuss. Oh, and how I love Clay Boy
.
As a Mother, I have read more self-help, parenting and Zen books than I care to mention. My favorites are The First Six Months, and Setting Limits. Theology, interests me too, as parenting has led me to pray more than I have every found necessary before. I would put Heart’s Code in that category, as it focuses on the interweaving of mind, body and spirit — which I think of as just one word now.
I wish my Mom were here to see that publishers send me books to review. She would have been proud. But, MotherPie, I wish they would send me more cookbooks, as I read them as if they were novels. I am fascinated by the science of food.
Over the past few years I’ve been able to sneak in a few grown-up gems, like Mr. Pip, and The Kite Runner.
I am behind in my reading what new and hot, as I am just now starting, for the first time the The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency (Book 1). This, is an amazing and wonderful book, that I am delighted — so delighted to read. Next, MotherPie’s suggestion of Rain of Gold by Victor Villasenor.
Still, my Mom made such an impression on me by introducing me to Nancy Drew, that, even though I have boys, I couldn’t resist the temptation to introduce them to the female sleuth. Now, we read a chapter from Nancy Drew at night at the lake. This is the biggest piece of myself I can give to my kids from my past.
The minute I say, “Have you done your reading yet today?” I have instantly switched off that creative spark that makes him crave to read those encoded messages on the page, and turned reading into a chore. He will do whatever his little, yet powerful mind, sets itself too.
Yet, reading practice is critical at this tender stage of level 2-3. The next big leap, level 4, is a big one, his teacher says. He’s ready, she says, as long as his level of interests stays high. Or, as long as it stays his idea.
I’ve learned from educators that the best way to push your child to a higher reading level is to let them practice at the level they’ve currently mastered. You would think that it makes more sense to push the “higher” levels, believing that you are challenging them. That was the mistake I made with my first son — it was a brief, frustrating period for both of us.
This time, I pulled piles of level 2 and 3 books into our library bag. Once I had them home, I set them into a tray by the nutcrackers and said, “Nutcrackers need story-time.”
The Nutcrackers. This too, is a story within itself. Before Christmas, he was mesmerized with the nutcracker picture book and its fanciful pictures, the story CD that we played each night at bedtime, the nutcracker advent calender that told one line of the story each night. With the opened box of decorations, nutcrackers filled our house: nutcracker place-cards from last Christmas, nutcrackers as gifts from Christmases years before, and ornaments. Just ask him, and this kindergartner will tell you the whole story of The Nutcracker Prince, its subplots and main characters.
Instead of toy soldiers and green army men, we have nutcrackers as toys. Some would say they’re too pretty and special to be played with like toys. I might add, they are not designed for play either… arms easily break off,
heads fall off, but this doesn’t seem to bother him. Nor me. If they weren’t here reading all these stories, they’d be piled into a box somewhere, unloved and forgotten. I’m happy to see them get some use, other than collecting dust.
He fully expected to receive a “full-sized Buzz Lightyear” for Christmas, because “Santa can make anything.” His kindergarten teacher even pulled me aside once, and said, “I’m just giving you a heads up… he’s REALLY going to be disappointed Christmas morning if there is no live-sized Buzz.”
No, he didn’t receive life-sized Buzz. But, he did receive this full-sized Nutcracker from a kind nephew and niece instead.
So now, we have story-time for the Nutcrackers, while he quietly moves on to Level 4.
Best Shot Monday
New Year’s Resolutions have good intentions, but are too harsh and restrictive to survive
the 365-day mark. Dreams, require no willpower, are much more enticing, and naturally hold your focus throughout a year. There’s nothing quite like a well-crafted dream to help you replace bad habits with new ones. No dream is worth having unless it can come true – and most do, usually when we least expect it. Here are 13 steps to making your dreams come true.
This books holds a picture of children jumping off a rock into the lake. This is the picture that captivates my boys. It’s not the drawings of the hurricane that rolls in across the lake. It’s always the rock. Mesmerized by the freedom to jump off such a high cliff.
Great classic books like this one means different things to you as you grow older. My favorite passage today is close to the end:
“As the days grow shorter and shorter there are fewer and fewer boats on the bay, until at last only the fishing boats are left. The wind blows brisk from the northwest, rustling the birch leaves. The ferns change from green to yellow to brown. The robins are gone from the lawn and the garden. The swallows have flown from their nests … to take their places, migrating birds from the north stop off to rest on their way south. The crows and the gulls fly over, fussing and feuding. And the hummingbirds visit the petunia patch.”
Children notice this change — but we don’t have the words to express or understand what we’re seeing just yet. As we grow older, we take the change for granted. We do notice the leaves changing colors, their fall, and we feel the chill. But there are a magnitude of shifts in tiny events like the hummingbirds, the slight shift in the wind, the sparse fishing boats, and the spreading quiet that fills the city pool. If asked, we’d say “Oh yeah, I see that.”
Reading these words now, I remember there was a time when I was free to observe all of these changes. Then, I was still small enough to bury my head into my Mother’s knees. That universal signal that all children give when they’ve had enough — and it’s time to leave them alone. There was a time when I could stand still and watch it all happen, the unfolding of fall, and know that for today, nothing in my routine was going to change. Too young for back to school, too young to worry about finding a winter coat, too young to realize that anything was going to change. Ever. Freedom.
Now, I participate in the change, with my own tasks for Fall, my head full of details I can’t afford to forget. Sometimes, too busy to observe.
“All personal change begins with the power of objective observation,” The Tao of Physics.
For more takes on freedom, visit Picture This.