How I Finished Writing "Route 66 Dreams"

I don’t often talk about it, but when I was four years old, I had eye surgery to tighten the muscle in my right eye. The surgery went well, however, it turned out I was allergic to anesthesia and I have horrible memories of my hospital stay because I was miserable.

It took me a long time to realize how that experience, despite the fact that my maternal grandfather was a doctor and I was raised around medicine, left me fearful of hospitals.

Four years ago, I had surgery to remove my uterus because fibroids that had been removed once before came back. It was absolutely worth it, but for those three weeks prior to the surgery, I found myself more scared than I was willing to admit because of one thing– I had to spend the night in the hospital.

While I knew I’d be okay, I also had this fear I’d been carrying around with me for all these years and I was always proud of myself for managing not to have a hospital stay. Before the surgery though, I had to find some way to cope, some way to make the most of those three weeks rather than sitting around and dreaming up all the bad things that could happen.

First, I set to work and finished recovering the outdoor patio cushions I’d been working on. Then I realized I also needed to finish the manuscript I was writing– get the rough draft finished so I could put it away. I devoted more time to Route 66 Dreams in those three weeks and also to the research I needed to do at the library because it took place in 1986 (the 1986 newspapers weren’t available online and instead I had to take a trip to the university library and then one of the city libraries for the microfilm).

It wasn’t easy but I found it was a good way to train my brain. Instead of ruminating about my unfounded fears regarding surgery, I had to keep my head on the Danielson family road trip that I was writing about. When I showed up for surgery that June 1 morning, I had put them away for a while, giving myself distance from the manuscript while I also needed the time to recover from the surgery.

I was still scared, but at least I hadn’t spent three weeks staring at the ceiling, playing all the loops of what might happen. Instead, I learned a lot in that time while also facing one of my biggest fears. And I created something I’m proud to say is mine.

The Inspiration for "Route 66 Dreams"

We were a road trip family. My happiest memories were those trips in the family station wagon. Those were the memories we would reminisce about at Rascal’s, a restaurant we ate at on Christmas Eve in my hometown of Napervlle, IL. There was always some funny story or adventure to remember.

My dad took a trip on Route 66 with a friend in his convertible (he and his convertible are pictured above at a wedding- this one I believe before my parents knew each other) before my parents married. I don’t know that they went all the way to Los Angeles because I don’t remember conversations about LA. We do have photos and home movies he took of the hotels in Las Vegas, I believe where they must have gone instead before heading back to Chicago.

When my dad and I took the first trip to Albuquerque to sign me up for my graduate school classes and find an apartment to live, I remember how he turned the car off I-40 right when you drive into Albuquerque after the canyon, at Tramway. Central, as Route 66 is known here, is just a block away and we took it all the way through town. What I remember most are his comments that there were few motels left and instead mostly mobile home dealers.

We were a Holiday Inn family and it was a game that after we passed the billboard of our chosen location for that night, to see who could spot the familiar Holiday Inn sign.

These road trips laid the foundation for “Route 66 Dreams.” While we never drove west (most of our trips kept us east of the Mississippi), we did a lot of driving– there was always a new place to stay and a list of sites to peruse in each place we went. The Danielson family isn’t my family, Jana’s story isn’t mine beyond the dream of wanting to be a writer.

Instead, her story was born of me wondering how I found myself wanting to be a writer, of wondering what it might have been like if I’d had the same adventures she had, a father who was much more open than mine ever was. There are so many stories to tell and there are small pieces of me in this story (and things that I experienced) but mostly, it was about exploring something I had started to wonder…where are our dreams born?

For Jana, they were born on this trip and it’s this trip in her life that I’ve chosen to share with the backdrop of the nostalgic eighties (I do believe 1986 was the best year for music and maybe a reason I chose to center the book in that very year) and a family vacation.

My Own Genre

When I have been looking for a publisher and an agent, it’s been a challenge to say what genre my books fit because as my writing has evolved, my work doesn’t fit into one space.

I have a friend who said she didn’t read The Green Dress because, “I saw it was a romance and put it down.” Well, Green Dress wasn’t a romance nor is That Cooking Girl or anything else that’s going to come after it. When I think of romance, my mom’s cabinet filled of Harlequins comes to mind and I could only stomach a few of those and never read them again (although I would love to find a few for Chelle Summer photos…).

I really struggle to find fiction that I like, often resorting to my first love of biography and autobiography. I often find myself not identifying with main characters– the same problem I have with many television shows and movies– because of their, well, stupidity. I get tired of the bad decisions. People say it makes them feel like they can relate to a character, but I have tried to write characters who make bad decisions and I find it so hard to empathize with them that it comes out…wrong. That also means that my writing doesn’t fit neatly into one box which also makes it hard for me to find writing that enjoy. And so I keep writing.

I’m not saying my characters– or me– or perfect. I’m also not saying that my character and I have picked the perfect relationships (speaking of my past– not life with Greg!), but I see relationships as secondary to the stories in my books. Yes, the relationships are important because they make life and reading more interesting. However, I don’t see my stories that way.

I prefer to write about women who are trying to go forward, to make the best decisions, and trying not to stand in the way of their own happiness and success.

That Cooking Girl was never meant to be more than a fun story (charming, someone told me just the other day) to be enjoyed and also as maybe inspiration for someone who has people rooting her (or him on) in this game of life.

The point of the book was that Megan is on the brink of success in her life and it’s about how she lets the past and her own fears go to enjoy the excitement of all that’s ahead.

After all, isn’t that what any of us want?

100 Pages for Lent

I believe that Lent is about finding a way to make yourself better, to do something that challenges you to work on growing closer to God. 

It took me a while to figure out what I wanted to this year. In fact, Lent had already started and I still wasn't sure what I was going to do. But then through a series of thoughts and writing, I realized what I wanted to challenge myself to do was write 100 pages in March.

It meant five pages a day during the week when I typically do three with several days off during the month to accommodate life events and schedule changes. It also meant doubling the 50 pages I usually write in a month.

But I believed that it would draw me closer to God because it would bring me the stories I'm supposed to write.

I won't say it was easy– it wasn't supposed to be– and there were days I had to focus harder than usual, or let go of other things I wanted to do, to make sure I had the time to write. Several days I wrote ten pages to make up for other days when I knew things were coming (or didn't know in the case of getting call to do television extra work– it helped that I'd gotten ahead the day before shooting!). 

There was an incredible amount of accomplishment each day that I forged forward toward my goal and also that the creativity kept coming. I didn't lack for material write which helped. And reaching 100 pages felt like a milestone– probably only the second time I've accomplished this in a month.

Finally, it gave me the sense that I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing and as I said in my blog two weeks ago, there's thought that keeps coming to me–

"Keep writing and you'll get where you want to go."

I'm now 100 pages closer to that goal thanks to Lent. 

Sharing Stories with the World

"My reward is the reader who thanks me for tackling themes in the book. That person's comment is worth more than twenty weeks on the best-seller list. I write to touch people, and when they respond the circle is complete" – Rudolfo Anaya in the afterword of Tortuga

I'm sitting on a finished manuscript and– for me– it's not a pleasant place to be because I want to share it with the world. Often, Greg and I make comments or jokes about things relating to the characters in the book but we no one else can relate to them because only a handful of people have read it.

Figuring out what to do with it has been a quandary for me the past few months. I've self published all ten of my books since the second printing of my first book about sibling suicide loss. At the time, the publishing industry was very different than it is now– it was much harder to get your book into the marketplace. Now you pretty much hit a button on your device and it's released to the world. That means, unfortunately, my books are lumped with a lot of badly written books and that also makes it more challenging to be taken seriously when I've been working at this for almost my entire life.

I thought I would spend this year trying to find an agent to publish That Cooking Girl, my latest  completed manuscript and one that I believe is my best written work yet. However, as this year comes to an end, it doesn't look like that's going to happen. It's a tough balance of figuring out where to go from here– because I don't have a huge social media following nor book following, I could end up with a publisher where I'd still be doing all the marketing (such as I have been for sixteen years since my first book came out).

I believe I have stories to share with the world and I often feel as if I'm standing on one side of the Rio Grande Gorge up in the northern part of New Mexico and I can see the other side– where I want to be– yet there is no bridge for me to get there and I'm not sure how to cross.

I'm someone who wants to make things happen. Even if I don't get exactly what I'm pursuing, by continuing to forge forward, other opportunities always come my way. I've honestly prayed about what I'm supposed to do, asking for a clear answer, and yet that hasn't happened. In fact, several times my prayers have been interrupted by "outside life" which at first I found irritating until I realized that maybe it was part of the "do nothing" message I must be receiving.

Rudolfo Anaya is right– it's about touching people and that's all I've ever wanted to do. But sometimes building it and believing they will come doesn't always work as well as one hopes. Still, I'll keep at it. I have a plan for this next year and perhaps that will be the manuscript that finally breaks open the writing career that I've wanted to have since I was six years old. And in that process, That Cooking Girl also will find an audience.