Posts Tagged ‘heroines’

Okay, this is not related to The Heroine’s Bookshelf. Well, yes it is, in a roundabout way. On Friday, my essay on roller derby for This I Believe will be broadcast on a public radio station near you.

Edit: here’s the audio!

Anyone who knows me well knows that I’m an NPR junkie. It’s gotten me through countless horrid commutes, creative dry spells, and hard times. When I moved to Denver, I found another salvation:  roller derby, the kind on eight wheels. I skated fast and furious and ended up founding the Denver Roller Dolls with a core group of fierce, brash women who became my fastest friends. My time skating was short (I blew out my knee and required surgery and extensive rehab), but I’ve been a fan ever since and can’t overemphasize the role of roller derby in my life.

In 2006, fresh into my own freelance writing career and energized by the league I had helped found, I felt a burst of inspiration. I quickly wrote an essay for This I Believe, which at the time aired regularly on NPR. I wrote about the sisterhood I’d experienced in my favorite sport and the personal transformation it provoked. And then I promptly forgot about it and went back to work.

So imagine my surprise when, earlier this year, I was not only told that my long-ago essay was selected to appear in the latest This I Believe anthology, This I Believe: Life Lessons (I kid you not: do I specialize in life lessons or what?!), but that I was being asked to record my essay for national broadcast.

Gulp. I have always hated the sound of my own voice, especially the Southern California twang I have been unable to break. But I took a deep breath, grabbed a bottle of water and drove down to Colorado Public Radio’s studio anyway. And I had a blast.

I need hardly point out that this is a closet fantasy realized, and that I couldn’t be more excited to draw attention to a sport that changed my life. My own personal sentiments on derby have changed slightly since I wrote the essay…so many injuries, retirements, and scars sometimes take a personal toll. But I couldn’t be prouder of what we did in late 2005, or of the organization the Denver Roller Dolls has grown to be.

You can hear my segment this Friday morning (November 4) on The Bob Edwards Show on XM satellite radio (channel 121) and Sirius satellite radio (channel 205).  It will be re-broadcast on Bob Edwards Weekend on Saturday (November 5) and/or Sunday (November 6), depending on when local public radio stations air the program.  To find out where to listen, click here and select “Bob Edwards Weekend” and your state in the program locator section.  I’ll post a link as soon as the recording is live!

I have learned that there are two primary questions that get asked when people hear that I’ve published a book about heroines.  One is “why?” and the other is “what’s your next book going to be?”  Though I appreciate both, the follow-up to the second question is often “Oh, so are you going to write a companion book about literary heroes?” and though I strive to be good-natured, there is only one answer. 

No. 

It’s not just my die-hard feminism, I promise.  Or the fact that I was educated at a women’s college, or that I proudly donate to Planned Parenthood and covet This is What a Feminist Looks Like tees.  It’s not even that I don’t like books written by men or literary heroes in general…how could any lover of books turn away from literature written by one gender or the other? (Even though some do, and it’s often woman-written books they shun, and that’s probably another blog post now, isn’t it?) 

It’s that come on, guys, if you go into a library or book store you will find hundreds, thousands, millions of volumes all dedicated to the greatness of male heroes and their accomplishments and contributions to society, culture, literature, and humankind.  Now that I’ve turned my pen to the accomplishments of literary women, am I really required to make up for it by writing another addition to the annals of books about why guys are great? 

Can we really expect parity and equality and celebration and progress if we keep brushing aside the accomplishments of fifty percent of human beings?  I mean, we still live in a world where Rosalind Franklin’s contributions to the discovery of DNA are brushed under the Watson and Crick rug, where Anne Frank is written off as a childish writer and a girl to boot, where Condoleezza Rice is asked more about her marital status than her accomplishments as Secretary of State. 

I am sorry if this is offensive to any of you, my dear readers.  And it’s not to say that I don’t give anyone currently engaged in writing about the deeds of great men my blessing, because they are more than welcome to write whatever moves them.  I’m just surprised at the impulse some people have to imply that I am required to contribute to already very well-covered territory.  To each his or her own. 

First of all:  WOW. Over 118 people will be joining me for The Great Gone With the Wind Readalong starting August 1! I’m humbled and thrilled…and of course you’re still very welcome to eavesdrop or join in.

Secondly, time flies when you’re (not?) having fun. I’ve been writing professionally for over six years, and I still struggle sometimes with work/life balance. 

Sometimes, it’s hard to turn off my work so that I can participate in life…other times, life hangs over work like a big black raincloud and complicates everything.  I guess this is just a complicated way of saying that I’m still here, still working on the precarious concept of balance, still unsure if I’ll ever manage. 

It’s easy to get mired down, but then…oh, but then.  Then I run into things like this:  the story of a woman who sewed the sad story of her life into a sampler that still exists today (via Writing Women’s History). 

What will become of me ah me me, she stitches, telling the story of her ordeal and her personal struggle.  And I am reminded that people like Elizabeth Parker have always existed and will always exist, people who turned life into art not because it was beautiful, but because it was necessary.  By all accounts she survived her own darkest hour and lived into old age.  This is what I was talking about when I wrote about being the protagonist of your own life, of the sustenance of reading and writing, and I’m so grateful I saw it today and that Elizabeth, all those hundreds of years ago, was brave enough to give it to herself and to us.

Isn’t there something amazing about the power of a great adjective?  Not a gratuitious one, or a self-indulgent one…I’m talking those words that grab you at the throat and put a twinkle (or a tear) in your eye.

Take the word “incorrigible.”  There’s a reason Stephanie Burgis‘s book is so well-anticipated stateside…it has an immediately evocative title!  Then there’s Scarlett, who is described as “arresting,” “gallant,” and “forward” at turns.  And then there’s a heroine who’s been on my mind lately, not least of all because she challenges and often upsets me…Cathy Earnshaw of Wuthering Heights:

A wild, wicked slip she was… At fifteen she was the queen of the countryside; she had no peer; and she did turn out a haughty, headstrong creature!

Would we feel as tempted and as threatened by Cathy if it weren’t for Emily Brontë’s carefully-selected descriptors?

So tell me…what are your favorite words these days?  What descriptions make you drool (or drive you mad)?

P.S. – Isn’t it appropriate that Kat won Stephanie’s copy of Kat, Incorrigible?  I think so.

I’m so thrilled to have another guest blogger to share with you today, this time a dear friend.  I’ve only met Stephanie Burgis online, but I’ve long been charmed by her honesty, wit, and lovable nature.  Now she’s here to share her heroic story and to give away a copy of her forthcoming novel, KAT, INCORRIGIBLE, a delicious Regency adventure for kids with a heroine plucked right out of the annals of Awesome Little Sisters.

Reply to this post and tell Stephanie why you’re thrilled about her book and you could win a copy!  Entries will close at 9 AM Pacific Wednesday, March 9.  Good luck!

Creating My Own Heroine

In some ways, it’s impossible to talk about how I created Kat Stephenson. Honestly, she was the one who found me, not vice versa. I was in the middle of writing another book (a Dark, Serious, Angsty Novel for Adults), and more than that, I was in the middle of cooking. I was chopping onions for lunch when I heard a voice in my head whisper:

“I was twelve years of age when I chopped off my hair, dressed as a boy, and set off to save my family from impending ruin.
“I made it almost to the end of my front garden…”

The onions were history. So was that dark, angsty, adult novel, never to be regretted.

I dropped my knife and ran for the living room to grab a notebook and pen, capture those lines, and find out what happened next.

So no, there wasn’t much conscious creation going on when I met Kat. She just swaggered right into my life and started talking. But when I look further back, I can make some guesses.

When I think of the books I adored growing up, what I think of is a succession of heroines. Elizabeth Bennet, sparkling and smart and full of confidence, refusing to marry – or even respect – any man who doesn’t realize her true value. Jane Eyre, making the right choice for her own conscience even when it means losing the man she loves. Amelia Peabody, adventuring around Victorian-era Egypt and bashing people with her parasol when they won’t do what she wants.

I’ve always been attracted to the smart, feisty heroines, the ones who go out and do things and don’t just weep and pine over a man (even if they do fall in love and find some great partners along the way). Give me Jane Eyre over Guinevere any day, no matter how dreamy either Lancelot or Arthur might be. I want a heroine who swaggers when she walks, a heroine I can dream of imitating, one who goes out and grabs her hero if she wants one but doesn’t need him to be happy…

…and when I wrote Kat, I got all that and more: I got to let loose the secret heroine inside myself. In person, I’m quiet, and I often feel shy. I was always the good girl, the one who tried not to make waves or offend anybody.

Kat is decidedly NOT. Kat says everything she thinks, and damn the consequences. Whenever older, wiser people pat her on the head and tell her to be quiet, she kicks them in the shins and goes right ahead doing what she knows is right, no matter how scandalous or magical her methods. She’s not even afraid to turn highwayman, when her cause is just.

Heroines can often save us – and sometimes it’s by teaching us who we really want to be.