Kelly Flowers

writer


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I Don’t Do Book Reviews

(So this is just an in-depth opinion piece about a book I happened to have just read.)

The Tsar of Love and Techno: Stories: Marra, Anthony ...

The Tsar of Love and Techno – One of those books with a colorful cover and weird title that sits on your book pile, guilting you for purchasing another book you don’t need and can’t store, but then additionally for not actually reading it. (How can I possibly think with all this silent judgment from my mouthy books?!)

It was a random book sale purchase. No pretense. The cover promises something, the title could go either way… Modern love story? Dystopian future? Cheeky memoir? So you finally open it. Take that, procrastination! (Also, your book club is reading it so… you know… pressure)

The first story begins a narrative that feels clever. A time piece, you think. Interesting narrator. Metaphors on point. Russian culture. Even a pinch dystopian, as true Russian lit seems to go.

This recognition quickly unravels at the second story as you begin to navigate the book anew. Who is this new narrator? We’re in a different era, different city, different voice. Ok, multi-perspective, you think. I could be in the mood, you think. The one-liner wisdoms are pretty smart. You’re feeling the sad come on, as Russian lit seems to go. And there, right there, the Russian claws are in. Fasten your seatbelt. Or rather, don’t. Because the kind of sad that The Tsar of Love and Techno delivers is the kind you savor, not like chocolate, more like sore ab muscles. Productive pain. If sadness wasn’t soul-scratching, why are so many books laced with it?

Somewhere in the second story, a sentence catches your eye like a flirtatious glance from a stranger. Totally ignorable. Deniable. But definitely something. You don’t look back because you’re totally above that. But still… something.

The stories are connected, you think. By more than just taking place in (some form or former form of) Russia. You feel very clever. Any author who can make you feel clever for actually just seeing his own cleverness is #pulitzer.

You hop eras and cities. The Russian names mesh, even though the author limits the nicknaming, as Russian lit seems to go. But each story will take a little bite of your soul, chew it slowly and then put it back a little softer. Gross? Ok, maybe.

When the stories begin to overlap, you dare to hope. Maybe a happy ending? After all, it’s not toooo Russian. We don’t need a happy ending, you think. We actually hate when a story tidies into a bow, you remind yourself. But still… Maybe? A full circle? A magnificent redemption? This sad will be worth it, right?!

I will neither confirm nor deny any sort of ending because with Russian lit, it’s better navigated blind. But the soul itch does get scratched and the sad is savored (and then ruminated on for days) because Anthony Marra writes an amazing story, or rather a tapestry of them. Read this book. #NotAnAd #JustAFan

6 out of 5 stars.

Not suggestive of ending


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What? You Haven’t Taken Up Violin?!

You’re not fluent in Chinese yet?

You haven’t purged your closet in a frenzy of endorphin-inducing productivity?

Weird. Me too.

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I began this quarantine like any Type A personality would. I MADE A LIST.

With all this newfound time, my schedule cleared of obligations, my social calendar a blank slate, wasn’t it time to clean the garage and take up a new instrument? I’d been meaning to get to those boxes of pictures for years. This must be the time! My house would shine. Squeaky doors oiled. Windowsills vacuumed. “It’s gonna be good,” I told myself. “Look at the positive that will come out of this terrifying pandemic.” *cue Pollyanna smile*

This went as you would expect the first line of every joke goes. 

First, I watched a lot of news, checked a lot of feeds, learned a lot of virology stats and did a lot of hand washing. I devoured meme after meme and spoof after spoof. Other people were doing BRILLIANT things with their time!

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Then, every day, as I bustled through menial things that somehow took way longer than they should have and relocated my coffee-drinking butt from one chair to the next, I beat myself up about what a slug I was. Where was that gusto to workout every day in my living room? I did stuff, I reasoned. It was just not the kind of stuff that feels like anything at all.

Continue reading →


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2 TED Talks for Writerly Types

This one is great for creating dialogue. (I also love when videos have kitchsy cartoons)

And, regardless of how you feel about Eat, Pray, Love (because there are two very adamant schools of thought about it) Elizabeth Gilbert wrote Big Magic which is a great book for creatives and creative-wannabes. And this is good.


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The Time Has Come, The Time is Now – Write Your Book!

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Remember when you said, “If only I have time to write that book I’ve always wanted to.” *sigh* “If only…”

Wellllll, guess what? What else are you going to do for the next couple of weeks (indefinite future)? It’s tempting to sit at home and guzzle Netflix or watch the painfully repetitive. And of course —-> Eat. Cook. Nap. Eat. Repeat.

When you surface into society again, all you’ll have to show is the weight you gained. How about you eat that frog and write your book? If you can’t write a novel when you literally can’t leave your house, when will you? I will give you the players handbook on how to write a book and you will emerge into the world inspired, recharged, slaying.

Are you in? I said… ARE YOU IN?!?!

So let’s get down to business. 4 steps to starting your book start here —>

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4 (Unusual) Tricks To Writing Your Elevator Pitch

I remember the first time someone asked me what my elevator pitch was. I probably gave him a snarky look.

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“A what?” I snapped. I actually thought he was making fun of me. What did an elevator have to do with anything?

Now, my much wiser self can inform you… An elevator pitch is what you would say if you had some important publisher to pitch to on a 20 second elevator ride. (Although pitching someone in an actual elevator is probably pretty tacky.)

Let’s talk about how to write the infamous (to most) elevator pitch. My first piece of advice is…

  1. Think of an elevator pitch as movie preview

If we’re being honest here, movie previews are my favorite part of most movie experiences. What can I say? I like the highlight reels. (Especially if the narrator is throaty like James Earl Jones or Morgan Freeman or Emma Stone) Movie previews are like the sugar center of a jawbreaker and, again if we’re honest, often better than the movie itself.

Your elevator pitch is the highlight reel of your book, except that you leave a lot of the stuff you think is really great and important out. Fun, huh?

Let’s try one together… (Imagine James Earl Jones’ voice here)

“Caught in the crossfire of an age-old feud, two young lovers defy their families in a romance that will cost them everything.”

Can you guess it?

How about…

“After his father’s sudden death, a young lion turns away from his destiny to be king and, in shame, abandons his throne and family. Years later, he must save his pride from starvation by confronting the current king, the power hungry uncle that murdered his father.”

One more… Continue reading →


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40 Before 40 – Update

So those that know me know I like lists. Like I reeeeeally like lists. I like them the way people like Netflix. I pursue them the way some people scroll Instagram. I read and reread and order and reorder them. Honestly, I don’t know how people function without them.

My brain simply can’t hold all the stuff I need/want/probably shouldn’t do.

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(Note: In finding this image I went down a rabbit hole called “Exploding Brain Syndrome”. This is a thing.)

Arguably the mother of all lists is the BUCKET LIST. Like Google, it has even been “verbed.” But a bucket list is a problem for me because it indicates a plan to do things someday, preferably before you die. And who knows when that is, right? Continue reading →


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Work in Progress – New Novel

I feel like I’ve edited these 300 words a thousand times.

Transcendents

Chapter 1

Evan sees it in slow motion, the fall leaves scalloping Mara’s profile as the car hovers above her, the girl on the bike peddling by. He’s seen it a hundred times. Mara is turning to the sound of the squealing brakes, her silhouette swollen against the backdrop of autumn, her hand slung under her enormous belly. The breaching car winks in the sunlight and the sound of Mara’s body as the car hits her is like a sack of mortar being dropped from a truck. Then, she is gone.

It always start in the groin, the pressure so violent it’s almost pain. Evan stops walking. His fist clenches over six oval pills but when he opens his hand, it’s empty. He can taste the pills, the bitter film on them as he swallows one after the other. He feels the heaviness of his limbs, how easily he’d closed his eyes. But the pills hadn’t worked. He’s still here. Here. 

Evan turns in a small circle, his feet squeaky on the white floor. A set of tapping footsteps fades in front of him as the man he’s following walks on without him. Evan tries to focus on the man but all he sees shapes, changing, colliding, lines unfolding like dismantled origami. Hexagons turn into ellipses, triangles to quadrilaterals. When he opens his mouth, the queasy taste of metal comes in waves. 

The man turns, his face chiseled by the light. “Please try to keep up,” he says. “Our time is limited.” 

Beyond the man is a doorway, the white hallway telescoping to it. “I realize you are disoriented,” he adds. “But it will come to you as we go. This…” The man tilts a thin hand toward a door. “Is the waiting room. I will bring you back here once we’ve completed the tour.” He makes eye contact and then continues.

How many ways can this be rewritten? I’ll let you know.

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40 Before 40 – The Mid-Age Bucket List

bucket listMany moons ago, I was a bright-eyed go-getter, bent on squeezing every drop from the gristly lime of life. I had a lot of things I wanted to do and I was in a big hurry to do them.giphy-3

And then life happened. Every now and then, it occurred to me that the ME I had designed in my twenties was a long gone blueprint, some imaginary being the lab had given up on.

My priorities were unwillingly rearranged with children and societal pressure to normalize and the constant need to pay for some life necessity or another. The nerve.

Then comes 40. I’m on the countdown and it’s time to regroup, assess, question whether all that party planning and crafting really counts as moving forward in life. (Existentially, it is also time to question whether moving forward is the real goal.)

Have I lived enough? I asked myself. Have I accomplished enough? Have I adventured enough? I’ve never even been to India! 

This anxiety sent me straight to list making, because making lists is every Type-A’s therapy. A well-written list can solve any problem.

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Now, while I’m still ruminating on the existential meaning of life, I’ve constructed a really scintillating list. 40 things I want to do before I turn 40. Because if there’s one other thing a type-a likes, it’s a deadline. 😉

So, if anyone is so inclined… jump on board and do a 50 before 50 or a 30 before 30 or a 47 before 47 (although it, admittedly, doesn’t have the same ring).

(Legal disclaimer: I got a version of this idea from Gretchen Rubin, who on her podcast appearance with none other than Tim Ferriss, talked about her 18 for 2018 resolution list.)

Here’s my 40 Before 40…

  1. Publish book – Come hell or high water
  2. Sing karaoke – IN PUBLIC
  3. See the Northern Lights – I was born in Alaska and don’t even remember ever seeing the aurora borealis. poo.
  4. Do the splits
  5. Take Scottish dancing class – Seems random but I am Scottish, did Scottish dancing as a teenager (see how cool I was?) and am thoroughly obsessed with all things Scottish.
  6. Do 10 pull-ups
  7. Take a painting class
  8. Take a hip-hop/dance class – Maybe improve my Elaine-from-Seinfield moves. Maybe not.

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    I had to.

  9. Go tent camping – Glamping doesn’t count, much to my city-boy husband’s chagrin.
  10. Take a pottery class
  11. Buy a Motorhome
  12. Motorhome across the country
  13. Go to a horse ranch
  14. Organize/print digital photos – Honestly, this may be the hardest thing on this list.
  15. Go whale watching
  16. Go to Iceland
  17. Try aerial yoga
  18. Try acro yoga
  19. Ride a skateboard – Friends are trying to talk me out of this due to potential physical injury to my middle-aged body.
  20. Learn to ski
  21. Meet Tim Ferriss – Tim, if you’re out there, I’m a total fangirl and will likely have nothing intelligent to say due to nervous paralyzation.
  22. Do a handstand
  23. Get back to my college fluency in Spanish
  24. Remodel our home office
  25. Go rock climbing – Indoor is ok. I’m not a snob or anything.
  26. Learn how to swim strokes – like real swimming, not bobbing and flapping
  27. Play the ukulele
  28. Go to a poetry reading
  29. Read the Harry Potter books – Because I have heard this should be on every bucket list and apparently I’ve been living in a barn having not read them.
  30. Organize travel memorabilia – Hmmm, what to do with train tickets from Belgium, coasters from Peru and sugar packets from Morocco…
  31. Burn music to hard drive – I literally do not have a CD player
  32. Teach my kids to play chess
  33. Teach my son to read
  34. Go to a trampoline gym – I’m thinking without my kids. Would that be weird?
  35. Be vegan for a week
  36. Make a good (thai) curry
  37. Make a scrapbook for my husband’s last birthday – I’m such a giver.
  38. Take self-defense class
  39. Get laser hair removal – because shaving sucks
  40. Ride a jet ski – I have never done this and stole it from my friend’s bucket list because I was like “Oh yeah, I HAVE always wanted to do that.”

So there. I’m about to get at it.

P.S. If any writers out there are feeling mid-life crisis-y like I was, be comforted by the statistic that 95% of great writers are over the hump of 40. Like fine wine, apparently literary success improves with age. One in the pro column for getting older.