Meet Christa Allan

Hre's the thing, my friend and fellow Abingdon Author, Christa Allan has just released her first novel. It's a good one folks. I invited her to stop by the blog today and share a bit about the journey. Enjoy. And then, please, go buy her book. You won't be dissappointed.


Tell us about your book, please.
My debut novel , Walking on Broken Glass, tells the story of Leah Thornton, a woman whose life looks pretty from the outside; she seems to “have it all.” But appearances can be deceiving because she’s a mess. She drinks to numb her pain and, until her friend confronts her with the truth, she thinks no one else has noticed. Leah admits herself to rehab, and the novel-told from Leah’s point of view-follows her through her recovery as she attempts to discover who she really is and what she’s willing to sacrifice to find out.


How does it feel to be on the other side of the publishing mountain?
Still surreal. I went to Barnes & Noble last night, and the book was on the shelf. So, there I was…me looking at me. WOW. Of course, I became verklempt thinking about the startling reality of it all.

What's the best part? What's the worst part about being published now?
Being brutally honest here, when I only thought /dreamed about being published, there was a bad girl part of me who envisioned “nanenane boo-booing” all those people who ever doubted me. By the time it did happen, God had made enough changes in my life, and I’d dragged myself through enough sludge to react with bottomless gratitude and humility. One of the best parts is still, of course, holding that baby and knowing part of the joy is surviving the excruciating pain of birthing it. The other is the realization that God can use my words and this character to bring others hope.
The worst part? Being published really is the good news and the bad news. Prior to WOBG, I wanted to punch authors who said that! But it’s true, but not in the way I imagined. For me, the worst part is knowing that the novel is out there, and I have absolutely little, if any, control over its success or reviews or anything. And, there’s that nagging anxiety of will I be a “one-book wonder,” assuming there’s a “wonder” at all!

Tell us a little about your writing process. Seat of the Pants, Plotter, Combo?
Is making order out of chaos a choice? I’m a plotter-wanna be. I’m totally seduced by the idea of it, but totally terrible at it. I have an idea of where the story is going, and I just go with it until I have absolute brain rot. Then, after I’ve consumed pounds of chocolate and a dozen Coke Zeros, I call on my writer friends whose opinions I value [hint], and whine for help. Usually this happens about five chapters in, then I rewind, pay attention to my synopsis, and forge ahead. Some times I’m surprised. For instance, a character showed up in WOBG that I did not plan on and still have no idea where he came from. I do, though, as I draw closer to the end, start sketching out chapters to make sure I’ve not dropped a thread somewhere.

Classical, Rock or Jazz
Jazz and Classic Rock.

Name a favorite movie.
In 1970, KELLY’S HEROES came out and starred Clint Eastwood, Donald Sutherland, Telly Savalas, and Don Rickles. A group of U.S. soldiers are sneaking behind enemy lines to steal gold. It cracks me up every time. One of my favorite quotes comes from Sutherland whose name is Oddball:
“…yeah, man, you see, like, all the tanks we come up against are bigger and better than ours, so all we can hope to do is, like, scare 'em away, y'know... We got our own ammunition, it's filled with paint. When we fire it, it makes... pretty pictures… We have a loudspeaker here, and when we go into battle we play music, very loud. It kind of... calms us down. “
There’s another part in the movie where Sutherland’s friend keeps worrying about bridges being bombed because they won’t be able to move forward. Sutherland tells him,
“Don't hit me with them negative waves so early in the morning. Think the bridge will be there and it will be there. It's a mother, beautiful bridge, and it's gonna be there. Ok?
Oddball: [Later: Oddball is looking through binoculars at the bridge] Still up!
Oddball: [planes fly and bomb the bridge] ... No it ain't. See what sending out them negative waves did, Moriarty?
Even now in my life, when I start thinking negative thoughts, this scene pops in my head, and I remember to stop the negative brain waves because the bridge [whatever I might need at the moment] will be there. [and I suppose all of this is more info than you needed!]

What scares you the most?
Death by drowning and the Alien movies.

Favorite Pie
Pecan.

So, if you were stranded on an island what would you miss most about civilization?
Microwaves.

Saints? Colts? (LOL)
I’m a Who Dat! from way back…Look, these guys committed themselves to this team after Katrina. When you’re willing to move to a city where you had to wait in line for two hours to get half of your prescription filled, you gotta love them! When 23-year-old Garrett Hartley nailed that field goal, I cried. Like getting the phone call from my agent Rachelle Gardner telling me WOBG had sold, that game signified decades of dreams coming true for a city that dragged itself out of devastation to rebuild itself. GEAUX SAINTS!

Hanging Out My Shingle

Here's the thing, besides writing, my most favorite thing to do is teach. I especially enjoy working with new authors who are wanting to get into this crazy world of publishing. So, I've decided to offer a critique/editorial service for those of you who are maybe not quite there yet with your current project. I promise, I'm honest but gentle and very, very patient. Just ask a few of my victims--er, I mean clients. The bad news is that as much as I would love to offer to do this for free, no fee, pro bono, I just can't and you know, I think when you pay for something it means a whole lot more. Not that I will charge you an arm and a leg, maybe just an arm but we can discuss a fee schedule and see where we go. So, if you are writing a novel for adults or children and you think you could use some help and believe me, we all needed help at some point, get in touch with me and we'll get started. I will send you endorsements from authors I have worked with if you want.

And that's not all, along this same line I have also been thnking about offering a full weekend Novel Writing Intensive in which you get to work with me in a group, a small group and also one to one with moi. How does that sound? I currently do a similar workshop at The Philadelphia Christian Writer's Conference but we would have a lot more time to do it separately. And yes, I will still do my now famous Novel Clinic at Philly. We had a blast.

If you think this might interest you, please drop me an email and let's talk.

What Kind of a Person?

would dress up in a fat suit for a friend?
Here's the thing, this past weekend I attended my annual writer's retreat with a group of the most awesome writers. We learned much from our mentor/guide/sherpa Nancy Rue. We talked about our lives and our hopes and dreams, about God and books and words and then Saturday night came and well, we got a little silly. My best guy buds, Dale and Tim dissappeared from the group. We knew they would, they always do to go off and plan some scathingly diabolical practical joke, usually perpetrated and froggish on the unsuspecting yet totally suspecting Nancy Rue. Well, the joke or the joy I should say was on me. They arrived back in the great room (and I do mean great) dressed in blow-up fat suits. (no ofense intended) They celebrated the wonderful Agnes Sparrow. I laughed, I cried and I even let others take my picture. Yikes.It was so wonderful to know that these guys think highly enough of me and our freindship to do this. If there is one awe-inspiriing thing I have learned from my publishing journey it is that novels are not written in a vaccuum. Writers create such lasting and true friendships because we so much need each other to help us through the times of rejection and dissappointment, uncertainty about our skills and talents. Our freindships often go beyond the buiness of writing and into our personal lives and we share and pray with each other in often profound ways. This group of fellow wanderers, fellow jokesters and fellow word lovers only meets once a year but it's as though we were never apart. The Crue is a family and I love them all. Gee, I wonder what Dale and Tim would have done if Agnes had been a giraffe. Well, see, they would have dressed up like a giraffe because and here's the thing, you do stuff for friends.

Physics, Names and Meandering?

Here's the thing, I read this amazing and incredibly well-thought-out review of my book the other day. I think she liked it although she had some criticisms and one that I want to address directly, well, two, no make it three points I need to explain. But first let me say thank you to this woman. She did a great job and I thoroughly appreciate the time she took to write.
The simplest one first. She said I failed to respond to her email about offering comment. I am so sorry. I did receive the email but it was in the middle of a very busy time and frankly it just slipped through the colander that is my brain these days. Sorry.
This reader seemed concerned that I did not really explain why God chose to answer Agnes's prayers the way he did and not the townspeople's. Uhm. No, I guess I didn't but I really didn't think I needed to. God answers prayers the way he sees fit and not because of who we are. This reviewer also seemed to say that Agnes's incredible prayer life was some kind of reward or payment for her obesity. I don't believe I ever intimated that. For all I know God could have used her in this way if she was, as my Mom would say, a skinny minny or have three legs. God is indeed no respecter of persons. Agnes's obesity was her struggle from childhood and yes, the event in her past that exacerbated the obesity was crucial to the story but I in no way meant to imply that God gave her this gift of being a prayer warrior because of it. This was Agnes's choice. God simply saw fit to bless and use her in the way he did—in the manifestation of miracles. He used her to bring the rest of the town to their knees, to make them see their need to pray and not use Agnes as their pipeline to heaven.
She also said the book meandered. Uhm, really? Haven't heard that before. Some said the twist in the middle was shocking and unexpected but no one else has said it meandered. Did it?
The reviewer liked my characters. Thank you. I love characters.
But she hated the names. Uhm, she's the first person to have anything to say about the names. What about you guys. Were you okay with the names. I know they're a little oddball but here's the thing. They come that way. I never sit down and go through a baby name book or the telephone and search for names. Honestly, Studebaker came named, Vidalia arrived at my doorstep with that name. Anyone else hate the names? Did the story meander. Did Agnes upset you?

Attention Drivers!!!!

Here's the thing, I was going to continue the discussion on voice today but it's become a rather busy day and I need to go back to school in a bit so instead, I thought it would be fun to write about something that, well, is just plain funny in my opinion. Attention PEOPLE IN CARS! We can see you. What is it about being in car and driving down the street that makes people think they are totally alone and no one else can see them do the odd little things they do while driving? Uhm heres a news flash. Cars have windows! I bring this to your attention because of something I saw the other day. I was noodling along on a two-lane road and casually looked to my left and there was a woman, perfectly respectable in all ways. But then I noticed she had a can of Whipped Cream. Yes I said Whipped Cream, Reddi Whip in her hand. Every few hundred yards she took a slug of the creamy goodness. My goodness she must have been having a terrible day to find the need to consume an entire can of whipped cream while heading wherever it was she was going.
But this got me thinking about the other odd practices I've seen drivers doing. Driving along on Route 81 at about sixty miles a hour I saw a male driver with a newspaper spread out across his steering wheel reading as he drove on this very fast and busy Interstate. What are you thinking?
I have seen men shaving, women putting on make-up, the ever-popular nose-picking, men and women smacking children in the back seat while negotiating the speed bumps in a large parking lot. I have seen couples kissing (among other things), drivers with dogs in their laps. I'm not talking about Mike, Barbara, I'm talking about drivers with huge Mastiffs sprawled across their laps. How do they steer—the people not the dogs. I have seen and I kid you not, my loyal readers, a woman putting pantyhose on while driving. Yep, pantyhose. This is hard enough to do in your bedroom but while driving? What are you thinking?
And of course the one activity that has just got to receive the "what are you thinking?" award must go to people texting while driving. Honestly this is so freaking scary. Don't engage in texting while driving. I do not want to die because you can't wait to tell your BFF Buffy that Froo Froo has a major crush on some guy named Snake.
So what have you seen other drivers doing?

You Can't Tuna Fish ~ Part Two

Here's the thing, you may not be able to tuna fish but you can tuna manuscript. Novels have sound, cadence, rhythm. They have voice. As I said in my last post this is a subject that gets discussed often. Yet, for many writers it is still a question. It's simply hard to define what exactly voice is and isn't. Some say it's style. It's more than that. Some say it's how characters talk—it's more than that. Some say it's how the story sounds. It's more than that. Some say it's word choices, phrases, syntax. It's more than that and all these things. Put it all together and voice is what compels the reader to give herself over to the story.
I don't consider myself Obi Wan Kenobi when it comes to writing but I would like to offer a few insights I have had over the years about narrative voice. I remember when my agent first told me I had a great voice. I was stunned, elated and thrilled. I had always wanted to be considered a writer with a great voice. I don't know, it might have been sibling rivalry, my sister and personal hero, Barbara is a singer with a great voice. I wanted to be like her. Unfortunately I cannot sing. But I can, it seems, lay out a line of words and make them sing for me.
But it wasn't always this way. Voice sneaked up on me one day. All of a sudden a lot of different factors came together and when I read what I had written I knew it sounded good. I knew I uncovered the narrative voice that had been lurking just under the surface of my writing.
Factor number one. Details. Voice comes through in details. Specifics. Instead of writing, "Chloe ate a bowl of ice cream." Try making it more concrete with images and feeling. What flavor, color, compare it to something. If this is first person or even third for that matter, think about Chloe, who is she, where does she live, better yet, where does she come from? Is she a woman who grew up on Cobbs Creek Parkway in West Philadelphia? Then she would have very specific memories that you can draw from to help her (and your reader) experience the ice cream. Maybe the color reminds her of the puppy she got one Christmas but only lived a few days because it was killed the next morning by a speeding nutjob in bright red Baracuda. Bring all this into the sentence. DON'T FLINCH! Voice is in the details. Tuna on the other hand don't remember the details and will never have a good narrative voice.
Tomorrow we'll look at voice and attitude.

You Can't Tuna Fish

Here's the thing, in my opinion, no fish, no matter how big is worth $177,000. Yet this is what two restaurant owners in Japan just paid for a gargantuan, five-hundred plus pound tuna fish, a blue fin to be exact. They plan to make it into Sushi. Uhm, how much Sushi can you get from a 500 pound tuna? I don’t know, but I venture to say more than $177,000 worth. That's a lot of raw fish my friends. Personally, I never eat Sushi, don’t know why, it's nothing personal, I just don’t like the idea of it, I suppose. And wouldn't this daddy of all tunas have to be prepared, purchased and consumed rather quickly? I mean five hundred pounds of fish. It reminds me of that I Love Lucy Show when Lucy bought the walk-in freezer and then promptly purchased a side of beef, not knowing exactly how much meat was in a side of beef. It made me laugh. Especially when she got locked inside and had icicles dangling from her eyebrows. Anyhoo, what does this have to do with anything? Nothing. I just thought it was funny. I think the idea of a fish auction is funny.
Besides huge fish I've been thinking lately about my writing voice, or anyone's writing voice. It's a subject that gets bandied about a lot in writing circles. For me, voice is paramount. It's more important to me even than plot or character sometimes, with character running a close race. If a writer has a good voice I will continue reading just to hear it, to hear and see how he or she uses language, pays attention to the ebb and flow of sentences and vowels and consonants. When I read a book with a good voice I feel more connected with the author. Voice is the author's character, personality shining through. To me, voice sets authors apart and makes one writer transcend another. Tuna, on the other hand do not need a voice. You've seen one, you've seen them all, unless it weighs 500 pounds and then, well, who really cares anyway.
We often hear about a writer finding their voice. This of course implies that the voice was at one time or another lost. This is a misconception. A writer's voice, a true writer's voice is there. It simply needs to be uncovered. But how does that happen? Well come back tomorrow (I hope) and we'll begin a discussion on finding your voice, or excavating until you discover it. Until then, eat some Sushi and think about that poor tuna, now probably sliced, diced, rolled and consumed by a million Japanese folks. Sayonara.

I Resolve. Not too

Here's the thing, it's a new year. Two Thousand and Ten. Amazing. But shouldn't we all be gliding around in Jetsons-like, super cool flying cars? And whatever happened to the moving sidewalks we all thought would be commonplace by now? Besides the ones at airports, I mean. And weren't we supposed to have ended war, found the cure for cancer and colonized Mars by now? You'd think after two-thousand years, well maybe someday.
Anyhoo, no discussion of the start of a new year would be complete without some mention of the R word—Resolutions. Personally, I don't make them, although if you hop on over to the Christian Fiction Online Magazine you can read my Stranger Than Fiction article in which I do actually make a resolution. But you'll have to read it to uncover this secret. I got to thinking about it the other night and realized that the reason I don't make formal NY's resolutions is because I am resolving to change one thing or another all year long. My life is, as it turns out, one great big promise to become a better person, lose weight, spend more time with the family, write a novel (oh, I did that) write another novel, (check, did that too) exercise, read more books, play less video games, spend more time with the Lord, take a course, stop bouncing checks, you know all the stuff we really, really want to do but quite often fall short. This, my friends is not our fault. It's in our DNA—especially if you are a writer.
From just a simple jog around the blogosphere this past week I have come to the conclusion that writers make more resolutions than any other profession. I mean think about it, it would be pretty scary if your brain surgeon resolved to make cleaner incisions in the new year or if the chicken inspectors resolved to look a little more closely. But writers? Well writers are a special and strange breed. I think it's because we pretty much work alone and that makes the possibility of screwing up a whole lot easier. No one is watching—not really. So we can resolve to write 5000000 words a day and if we fail? Who knows? But yet writers do make lots of resolutions this time of year. For instance, I read where one writer is resolving to "write tighter," "use less adverbs", (uhm, try none. See an adverb—kill it--mostly) Another author vowed to carry a notebook wherever she goes to write down all those tidbits of genius that strike like lightning in the middle of a foil, or while standing on line at the market, or in the shower but don’t bring a Sharpie into the shower with you. Trust me. Then there is the very popular "Update my blog EVERY DAY." Look, this is just silly. No one can update their blog for 365 days without missing one. At least no one I know can do it so don’t even go there. Just resolve to blog semi-daily or when the muse gets off the elevator and you're covered. Less pressure. Another writer has vowed to stop procrastinating. This, my loyal subjects is impossible. Writers MUST procrastinate. It's in the bylaws. Because you see, procrastination for a writer and say a dentist are two very different things. If the dentist doesn't take that goopy stuff that hardens out of your mouth in time, well that's an issue, but if a writer doesn't show up at the keyboard on time, well, that's okay, because writers are ALWAYS writing. Always. And this is often a problem, especially for me since I tend to play out scenarios in my brain so often that sometimes it's hard to know what's really going on and what I'm making up. So don’t resolve to NOT procrastinate—it's part of the process. Unless of course you have a looming, gargantuan deadline staring at you, then you might want to put down the Xbox controller and beg the muse for words.
So there it is, my discussion of Resolutions, particularly for writers. What about you? Did you resolve to do anything differently this year, better this year? I'd love to know and then maybe I can bug you about it for the next 12 months. Wouldn’t that be nice? And oh, the picture? That's my grandson, Cedar. It's totally gratuitous and has nothing to do with resolutions except that if I could resolve anything and make it happen? it would be to see him and his brother, Lemmy and their parents more often. But they live in Colorado and I'm in Pennsylvania. Uhm.