Saturday, May 02, 2020

Book recommendations Spring 2020

Here's the latest installment of my periodic (but maybe not reliably scheduled) twice-yearly book recommendations list. I'm thrilled to share these titles, and hope they bring joy in the midst of stay-at-home reading time!

I'm going to list them in alphabetical order by author:

Lian Dolan's The Sweeney Sisters:
This book is near and dear to my heart for many reasons. The author is a total sweetheart, and I was a developmental editor for this book when Lian was drafting it. It's a book about sisters; Lian has four; I have three. It's absolutely beautifully written, and even if you're not a sister, you will find this riveting. The elevator pitch: you learn after your father passes that your next door neighbor is actually your "sister from another plot-twister!" (that could be a thing, right?) My favorite story about this book is that my eldest sister texted me that she was reading a book about sisters that she wanted me to read because it was so good--and then she finished it and saw my name in the acknowledgments. Small world! Plus: this is honestly one of the best covers I've seen.

Gini Grossenbacher's Madam of the Silk:
This is the second in Gini's series about madams (yes, the prostitutional kind!) I attended Gini's book launch and it was a really fun and informative event. I haven't yet read this, but I know it'll be a thoughtful read, based on all the research she talked about at the launch. The elevator pitch: it's about real-life historical San Francisco madam Ah Toy. Gini and I belong to the same Historical Novels Society group, and she is always fun to catch up with!

Anara Guard's Hand on My Heart:
This is a poetry collection by another friend IRL. And speaking of sisters, she did a book tour before the pandemic with her sister, who had also brought out a book. Very sweet to think of doing that with a sister. The poems in this collection are strong and remind me of how much I love poetry. Anara's also a great fiction writer. Watch for more from her!

Sands Halls's Reclaiming My Decade Lost in Scientology:
This is a memoir that caught my eye because Sands was recommended to me and the other directors of the Gold Rush Writers Conference as a possible presenter (and yes: she will be one of our headliners at the conference, rescheduled from right now to October 2-4. It's Saturday, May 2, as I type this in the evening: we would be eating dinner and literally listening to her keynote THIS VERY MINUTE. Wild!) In other small-world wonderfulnesses, soon after we scheduled her, she and I were both presenters at the Sierra Writers Conference which took place in January before all the madness descended, and so we got to meet in person and attend each other's presentations. Her book is so well written and disturbing. The elevator pitch: an earnest, smart young woman falls into and out of the grip of Scientology, Sands's own story.

Greer McAllister's Woman 99:
I don't know Greer in real life, but we've had some great interactions online, and when she launched this book, she did a wonderful series of blog postings with 99 other authors invited to recommend another woman's book. How cool is that?! It was an ambitious project with the hashtag #read99women. She kindly hosted me for one of those. I'm a 99 woman! Click through to see what I recommended (and then come back). I really loved Greer's book The Magician's Lie, and was thrilled to jump into Woman 99. The elevator pitch: a woman gets herself committed to an insane asylum to rescue her sister there.

Anna-Marie McLemore's Dark and Deepest Red:
Anna-Marie is the queen/king/mermaid/merlad of brooding magical realism, and you will love their latest, which is about the real-life "dancing plague" of medieval Strasburg. An amazing person in real life, Anna-Marie and I are both members of the aforementioned Historical Novels Society group (as is the next author in this list) and I was so happy to attend their launch at a local bookstore seemingly just moments before the shelter in place mandate was announced. I'm also proud I got to interview them for this Washington Post article about how the pronoun "they" will have the same staying power as the similarly originally-conflicted title Ms. Elevator pitch: Dark and Deepest Red is also a sideways retelling of the Brothers Grimm "The Shoes that were Danced to Pieces" or "The Twelve Dancing Princesses." Don't miss this beautiful novel!

Gina Mulligan's Remember the Ladies:
Gina's novel was traditionally published in hard cover by Five Star and she recently got the rights back and released an ebook version. This is a fantastic look at the fight for suffrage, which hello!, this year is the centennial of. Can you believe U.S. woman have only been voting for 100 years? (Well, in places like California and a few other states, suffrage passed earlier: 1911 here). Elevator pitch: this is the novel to read to get a good look at what it was like to lobby for suffrage. And plus: Gina in real life is a true and genuine friend. Check out her other novel From Across the Room as well (same situation with getting rights back and releasing an ebook), an epistolary masterpiece with a total kicker of an O'Henry at the end.

Rebecca Pittman's The History and Haunting of Lizzie Borden:
Rebecca is a devoted researcher of paranormal spots, and her books sell incredibly well. I was so excited to read this book about Lizzie Borden, especially since I know she found out a shocking new theory about who might've been there that fateful day of August 4, 1892. Elevator pitch: a thorough and innovative look at a historical double-murder case that continues to haunt us today. Rebecca and I planned to put our heads together on a book project just before Coronavirus came to town, and I hope that when the world is back to normal we can resume! In the meantime, check out her oeuvre, and most especially this book! I've got just a tiny hint: let's play balllllll.

Lisa Redfern's Phases of Gage:
I couldn't help but be drawn to this story. Elevator pitch: a novelization of the true-life morbid case of Phineas P. Gage, a medical curiosity in the 1800s whose skull was punctured by a 13 pound iron rod...he continued to live and be studied by neurologists. Today his skull resides in a Harvard museum. Lisa's a kindred spirit and I know you'll enjoy this look at a very strange life.

Kate Schatz and Miriam Klein Stahl's Rad American History A-Z:
Yes yes yes yes yes, you need this book, and you need to buy copies for the young readers in your life too! Elevator pitch: this is the latest in a series of books celebrating rad women, with Kate's great text and Miriam's amazing illustrations. I did a minor bit of invited brainstorming along with others, and am proud as PUNCH to be in the acknowledgements because of that. Seriously, buy this book and others in the series both for yourself, and as gifts for the young people in your lives. Get the word out about the powerful accomplishments of rad women! I couldn't love these books more. They are the equivalent of those old wonderful orange biographies of women that some readers will remember from their childhoods.

Sarah Vowell's Assassination Vacation:
Exactly my kind of book. That is all.

Next in line to be purchased:
  • Ed Skoog's poetry volume Travelers Leaving for the City, 
  • Meredith Arthur's Get Out of My Head: Inspiration for Overthinkers in an Anxious World, and 
  • Nanea Hoffman's The Anxiety Blob: Comfort and Encouragement Journal. 
You'll see these on the list in Fall!
. . . . .

Sunday, January 26, 2020

Anguish and Intensity: the making of a Jane Austen Regency gown

Gina Mulligan, left, and me. Learn how I struggled
to create this white Regency gown.

I joined the Jane Austen Society of North America because of a secret writing project (literary agents, it needs me). I wanted to be ensconced by other Janeites. And when I learned of the Jane Austen tea that took place in January, I was so in. I asked a good friend to go with me, and we both embarked on vintage-a-fying ourselves.

I must give credit to this website, with its “Easy-Peasy Regency: From Bed to Ball Gown in 30 Minutes or less” project. It is ultimately what I ended up doing, with a few (okay, many) left turns along the way.

I give a shout-out to Diana Birchall, Devoney Looser, Bianca Hernandez of Drunk Austen, Gillian Bagwell, Chloe Filson—all people I consulted at the outset of this costuming dilemma (Gillian even offered to mail me hers, what a generous soul!). Bianca told of the Simplicity pattern (S8941), so I hied myself to JoAnn’s fabric where I found it in a drawer. It felt like the sewing equivalent of opening a card catalogue in the library. They actually had about six envelopes of this Regency dress in different sizes, so when there is a rush on Regency, they’ve got it covered! I took the pattern envelope out, noticed the intimidating price (especially since I had been swayed by watching the video above where a single bedsheet becomes a dress), contemplated the failure I might confront in attempting a “real” dress, and yet still committed to finding the items on the envelope.

Part of the envelope cover. I was texting my sisters for help
while in the sewing store, and sent this when they asked
what I was making.

Those required items were: 1/8” wide twill tape, hook and eye, 60” fabric such as linen or taffeta, 45-60” muslin for the lining, and satin for the sash. My first mistake: I went after the notions first. I found the hook and eye immediately, but stalled with the twill tape. The store had 1/4” tape but not 1/8”. Since I didn’t understand what it was for, I didn’t know if it was okay to literally double the width asked for. I consulted with someone at the cutting counter, who sent me to find linen tape (on a spool, so I didn’t have to buy more than what I actually needed), which I had a really hard time finding. I noted the sash ribbons and then went inexplicably to hunt down the muslin for the lining.

Oh boy.

The muslin available was only 44 inches, not the specified 45—and instead of the specified alternative 60” it jumped up to 90 inches. I was frankly paralyzed with fear and loathing. I consulted another customer who said, “Yeah, they always do that. You never get the right amount of inches. I don’t know why they don’t make it consistent.” I did start to wonder, with an excellent application of math, if the 90” muslin could be halved to make the required 45”... but then, was it a thing about being horizontal rather than vertical? I mean, a Regency gown has to be one length of fabric from shoulder to feet, and I’m fairly tall. So then more math was applied to figure out that since I am 66 inches tall, plus add for the fabric to go out and around some butt and bust, I’d be in trouble with merely 45 inches to cover up all my parts. Right?? I imagine legitimate seamstresses will read this blog post and snicker at my appalling ignorance.

By now, a striking amount of time had passed as I combed through the muslin... what do you call them? bolts?...feverishly certain I could find the magical 45 or 60 inch selections. So I decided to turn my attention to the actual fabric itself, which I really should have started with.

I couldn’t find anything taffeta. Whatever that is. It sounds like something for the prom. I enlisted help from an employee who I pathetically showed the envelope to, expecting her to say something like, “Oh you poor dear, this is certainly above your head, and please let me walk you through the store collecting everything you need, and ultimately I can just sew this for you.” She showed me the fabrics of the correct size, but there were very, very few apparel fabrics that were 60 inches as the envelope wished. In fact, none of the fabrics looked like anything Jane Austen or her cohorts would wear. I was in despair. Finally, I decided one of the florals could possibly work even if it wasn’t perfectly 1813 vintage looking...but as I pulled it out, I realized there was not much to it. And sure enough, at the cutting counter, they told me there was not enough to get the required yardage. Ohhhhhhh why did I spent so much time there?

I’m not going to go so far as to say I was “freaked out,” but there was something very interestingly psychological going on with me there. Maybe in a past life I was a seamstress who perished mid-garment?

I walked around the store, carefully putting everything back.

For a while, I was going to use these shower curtains because of the
lovely embossing and the prebuilt hem. But they weren't tall enough.
Discarded the idea and turned to the bedsheet.

I went to Marshall's and bought a lovely shower curtain with light embossing, and even a nice hem for the bottom. I was proud to be following the Von Trapp and O’Hara heritage of wearing window treatments.

At home, I reacquainted myself with the blogpost above and set about pinning the curtain as directed. However, it was quickly determined to be too short for me. I had been (faultily) reasoning that when you stand in a shower the curtain is taller than you, but the blogpost requires the fabric to be folded in half vertically. In retrospect, I ought to have just sketched out a rough dress (the width of the fabric was certainly enough) and gone for it, but I was in a torpor of realizing I had zero sewing skills and was letting down my forebears.

So I set the curtains aside and decided to actually use a bed sheet. It seemed more my speed and we even had a white flat sheet! I did worry a bit that the sheet might show evidence of what you might call marital exertions, but a glance through assured me it was going to pass muster. In the garage, I quickly located the sewing machine box and brought it inside. I pulled out the sewing machine out of the box and...gaped.

It had been put back by the last user in a distressing state. Someone had removed the bobbin cellar and the foot on the needle. It felt like I went in for a hug and realized the person had been partially amputated since I last saw them. I had to go watch youtube videos to understand how to put it all back together again, how to install the bobbin and pull up the bobbin thread, etc. I use my machine about once a decade, and each time it requires a huge reeducation. I pledged that I would record a youtube video for myself so that in 2030 when I again try to sew something, I will have already answered my own questions.

I remembered that on Project Runway, everyone irons their material before sewing, so I did that. I like the little exhale the iron makes now and then. However, I don’t believe it’s possible to master ironing. And who would want to, anyway? It’s a tool of the patriarchy. I got depressed thinking that if I could get out all the wrinkles, the car ride to the Jane Austen tea would just reinstate them. Ironing tricks you. Do you agree that that is not fair?

I followed the blogpost but had some questions. I cut down the sheet because it wasn’t a twin, but even still wondered how much excess fabric was good to keep around. I liked the idea of a bit of a train trailing the ground but in terms of width/girth, I wanted to look slender or whatever passes for slender at my weight. I followed the instructions and created the double column that, with ribbon under the bust, actually looked legit! However, it really was too thick, so I cut a wide swath off and went back to the sewing machine. 

The mysterious "overlap"...why was it necessary? Read on!

Note: I was very, very confused by the use of safety pins to “overlap” the two edges of the column. I even reached out to the blog poster via email and Twitter to understand. I was thinking the safety pins were only temporary, right, until you could get to a sewing machine? No. The absolute brilliance of her design is that the overlap means no body parts are inadvertently seen/flashed as you wear the safety-pinned garment to whatever Jane Austen event you are attending. Afterward, you unpin it and keep using it as a bedsheet. I love the complete reduce/recycle/reuse nature of this project. No bedding was harmed during the making of her gown! In my case, I had had to cut down the oversized sheet, so it was never getting back to the bed anyway.

As a side note to my above note, I found that these “safety” pins were misnomered because I did get Aurora’d by them.

At one point in my traumatizing evening, I went and took a photo of the sunset off the balcony. It seemed like a metaphor.

Q. Did I also take photos of myself in the various iterations of this project?
A. Yes.

Q. Will I be posting them?
A. No.

Q. But why?
["not suitable for work"]

Q. Is that all?
A. Also NSE.
["not suitable for eyes"]

My previous musings for the costume had been:
  • Amazon's Jane Austen costume, but I worried everyone would wear it (or recognize it as the Amazon costume).
  • Party City has one, but not in stock at my local store.
  • And finally, the thrift store, where I surprisingly found a few possible options. A decade or so back, there was a small resurgence of popularity of the Empire waist, and so I bought two dresses that while only calf length, definitely had the proper waistline. I had thought perhaps I could layer something as long as the bodice worked, but in fact what I ended up using was one of the dress’s little demi-jacket which approximated a Spencer. [Janeites, I was googling “Steventon” thinking that was the name for the little coat!]
"Simply" Vera Wang thrift shop find in a nice ombre.
But calf-length, so I'd still have to figure out something
and also need a Spencer to cover the "shocking" shoulders

The "Spencer" attracted me although in a light metallic sheen
Jane Austen wouldn't have had access to. But hey! Close enough.
The sheaf dress is also pretty cute and might be wearable for real.

So with my bedsheet covered by a pale lilac Spencer, I thought I could bear to go to the event although I did worry that someone would know the dress was a sheet. “Oh, where’d you get that? The store called Percale?” 

Satisfied, exhausted, I opened up my email to learn that “most people don’t dress up for the event.”


But I did not fash (yes, I’ve been rereading and watching Outlander, why do you ask?), or at least did not fash much. As good friend Gina and I learned at the tea, a fair number of attendees did dress up, so we were not foolish. It was amazing to see some of the gowns, and even a few men in wonderful Regency attire too! We heard several wonderful lectures, partook of an amazing high tea by a company called Novel Tea, and enjoyed chatting with table mates. I even won a Cinemark giftcard in one of the raffles. Sigh. A beautiful day. I highly recommend this event.

Lovely couple at our table. Check out her gorgeous hair AND cheekbones.
She made her own gown. She knows how to sew.

Timing recap:
Monday: 2 hours at JoAnn’s flipping out
Tuesday: unproductive panic. Purchase bonnet online so at least I’d have something that looked legit.
Wednesday: 1.5 hours going to thrift stores and finding options, going to Marshall's to get shower curtains. Returned to JoAnn's in a furtive skulk to buy the ribbon I'd put back the day before in shame.
Thursday: 3.5 hours (yes this is embarrassing), trying to make inroads of communication with the sewing machine.
Friday: 2 hours sew for real, including cutting down the sheet and redoing the seam. I’m slow.
Saturday: the event!
Total: 9 hours to sew a dang sheet.

Cost breakdown:
Sheet: free from closet.
Curtains: Might use them to make a Regency dress for elementary school child’s “wax museum” (one of the joys of this project was that she wants to be Jane Austen—her idea!), $20
Thrift store dress with “Spencer”: $7
Second thrift store dress I bought thinking it could be used because of its neckline (it’s Vera Wang! okay, "Simply Vera," the Kohl's lower-priced line): $7
Notions (thread, elastic, pretty pink ribbon): $11
Bonnet: $10
Cute hairpins: Borrowed to put up hair. Never got photo of hair under bonnet, alas.
Total: $55. Well, that’s discouraging. I do think I’ll wear both the short dresses in summer (sans Spencer), and hopefully the bonnet gets a second use and the curtains get a first use, so I have to factor that in. Plus, I’ll definitely wear this “ensemble” as Carol Burnett calls it again sometime, for next year’s tea and hopefully something before that, too. The national JASNA convention is in Cleveland in October.

And thus I close this chapter on my wild adventure with fabric!

Here are some more photos of the event, the Jane Austen tea on her birthday, put on by the Sacramento branch of the Jane Austen Society of North America.

A model demonstrates a lovely Regency gown with train

Check out the gorgeous table settings! If anyone recognizes the water glass,
let me know. Gina was quite taken, and I'd love to get her a set.
Each table was decorated differently and beautifully.

The beautiful room where the tea took place. What do you call those walls?
In the center, the woman in red was the presenter who made these gowns; hers is 
based on the one featured on the event program in the photo above.

. . . .

Saturday, August 03, 2019

Bridget on the stairs: a post for the Lizzie Borden anniversary

This post is for the anniversary of the murders of Andrew and Abby Borden, husband and wife, killed August 4, 1892. Andrew's daughter Lizzie was accused and underwent a trial that was in all the newspapers of the day, a huge national spectacle that ended in her acquittal.

I had long been fascinated by this case and the idea that Lizzie might've "gotten away with murder," for surely she was convicted by the jury of the Public, if not by the jury of her peers (well, actually, the jurymen were not her peers; I blogged about that here).

The more I learned about the case, the more my interest circled around one individual whose role was consistently downplayed: the Irish maid Bridget Sullivan. Bridget had been in the employ of the Borden family for several years, had tried to quit a few times, and was the only person in the house that fateful day besides Lizzie and the victims.

Why was Bridget's role not larger in the trial? Because of her immigrant status. In the cartoon above, originally from Harper's Weekly and found in the book Out of Ireland: The Story of Irish Immigration to America, you can see how the Irish were deplored as they arrived in the 1800s, often hungry and poor.

This cartoon ran April 28, 1883, almost a decade before the Borden murders, but is a good example of how Americans viewed the arrival of the Irish. The cartoon's title reads, "The balance of trade with Great Britain Seems to Be Still Against Us" and its text says, "650 paupers arrived at Boston in the steamship Nestoria, April 15th, from Galway, Ireland, shipped by the British Government." The sails on the dinghy rowing out to meet the ship say, "From New York, the DYNAMITE," which I initially thought to be the wish to blast the immigrants into oblivion, but has a more complex meaning, referring to Irish-American activists who used dynamite in the fight for Irish independence from Britain.

At right is Bridget Sullivan.
At left is Kristen Stewart playing her in the movie Lizzie.

Sentiment was strong against the Irish. Many shops had signs in their windows stating, "Irish Need Not Apply." On the day of the Borden murders, Lizzie called out to Bridget to fetch Dr. Bowen across the street, but when he was not available, Lizzie did not then send her to the Irish physician who lived next door (nor the French one through their orchard on the next street). No. She sent Bridget to fetch her friend.

Hosea Knowlton who led the prosecution's case against Lizzie said that he felt Bridget knew more than she was telling, and yet there was no true surge of pressing her for information.

Bridget testified for the prosecution, and yet I'm mystified why she wasn't grilled to the point that she could let go of some very interesting information. Lizzie was seen burning a dress soon after she was told (in a blunder by the mayor) that she was suspected. Where did that flammable dress come from? It had been secreted in a kitchen cupboard next to the stove in which she burned it. The kitchen was Bridget's territory. How could something wind up in one of her cupboards without her knowing? Bridget knew about the tensions in the household and erratic behavior, yet held her tongue. Why? Politeness? Misplaced loyalty to... well, Lizzie wasn't her boss. The two victims were. Who knows what was in Bridget's mind?

The door with the clock is the cupboard in question.
The stove isn't original but stands where Bridget's stove stood.

I titled this post, "Bridget on the Stairs," because this is the most compelling detail of the case to me. Mrs. Borden was killed first, and lay undiscovered upstairs. Mr. Borden then came home from his morning errands, and could not seem to make his key work (hm, inside job?) so he ran the bell and Bridget let him in. As the two were at the door, Lizzie on the stairs behind them laughed. Bridget told the court so.

At a certain point on that staircase, you can see directly into the guest room where Mrs. Borden was then dead, halfway under the bed, crawling to get away from the blows that ruined her head. One's eyes, when one stands on the stairs, are at floor level with the victim. Perhaps Mrs. Borden's eyes were open, staring in terror at whoever stood on the stairs and laughed.

Me a few years ago on the stair where you can see the upstairs floor

Well, that is Lizzie on the stairs, not Bridget. Except that...after Mr. Borden's body had been "found" downstairs by Lizzie and the alarm given (and Bridget ran to fetch the best friend)...time passed and people began to wonder aloud where Mrs. Borden was. Lizzie actually asked Bridget to go upstairs and see if she was there. Bridget wisely refused to go alone, and neighbor Mrs. Churchill accompanied her. At the same place where Lizzie had stood and laughed, Bridget saw Mrs. Borden's body. She continued up and into the room to verify that Mrs. Borden was dead, perhaps hoping she was only injured and could be revived. Yet anyone who saw that crime scene would know Mrs. Borden would never rise again.

What you see standing on that stair. That's the bed the visitor is walking towards,
and the docent is lying on the other side. She isn't, however, halfway under the bed
as the real Abby was found.

I've spent a lot of time contemplating Lizzie on the stairs, but not so much Bridget. And now as the anniversary comes around again, I think about the betrayal involved in Lizzie forcing her servant to go upstairs to find Mrs. Borden's corpse (or...was it collusion? Or was Lizzie truly innocent? Agh, we will never know). After the autopsies --performed in the dining room-- the bodies remained in the house overnight. As did the living: Lizzie, Bridget, Lizzie's sister who came back into town upon receiving a telegram, and the friend of Lizzie's whom Bridget had fetched). Did Bridget again climb those stairs to aid the sisters? Or did she shun the staircase forever? (Her stairs, to the attic, were off the kitchen...the same stairs Andrew and Abby used).

Stairs have long been held to be symbols of transitions. If you dream of stairs, it can mean you are thinking of transition and change. For sure, the staircase played a dramatic role in the Borden murders. The jury, in fact, went to visit the house during the trial and each paused on the staircase to see the view that possibly meant Lizzie laughed in exultation looking at her victim. You too can climb the stairs if you visit the Lizzie Borden Bed & Breakfast in Fall River, Massachusetts.

My novel The Murderer's Maid tells the story from Bridget's point of view, as well as including a modern-day narrative focusing on the issue of immigration.

 “A complex and riveting parallax view of domestic crimes, decades apart.” -Kirkus

“Those interested in the Lizzie Borden tale…will appreciate Mailman’s research and be rewarded with this new perspective.” -Booklist

“Erika Mailman writes a page turner of a thriller that will fascinate as well as terrify….Don’t read this at night; it will give you nightmares.” -New York Journal of Books
“Erika Mailman’s kaleidoscopic narrative melds true crime, historical fiction, and elements of a psychological thriller, all hinging on a singular question: ‘Who isn’t a survivor from the wreckage of childhood?’” -Foreword Reviews

Tuesday, July 16, 2019


I've had some happy success with my freelancing recently. Here are a few articles I've been excited about in the last year or so. And yes, I need to blog about our most recent Paris trip, but in the meantime here is my piece about being there watching Notre Dame burn, a shock --and a sight I could've never predicted.

Our view of the fire, very soon after it started

Washington Post
"I Watched Notre Dame Burn"

This is the fence of St. Julien le Pauvre, referenced in the article,
that people were stuck behind

Rolling Stone:
"What Happened After Jonestown? In the wake of the mass suicide in 1978, friends, family and survivors had to face the aftermath of Jim Jones's cult."

The Millions:
"Death and the Poet: Inside the Lizzie Borden Bed & Breakfast"

Oakland Magazine:
"Pixar’s Inside Out Is a Love Letter to Kids: Pixar’s latest delights with runaway emotions"

The Monthly:
"Donner Dinner Party: An Underappreciated Oakland Author Reports His Take on an Unusual Evening"

Diversity Woman Magazine:
"Ditch Your Comfort Zone: Traveling to a destination with a new mind-set can lead to the most rewarding vacation of your life"

The Writer Magazine:
"Keep your plot threads under control: When it comes to adding significant plot lines to your novel, you don’t want too many, or too few"

Parents Press Magazine:
"The Wide World of Birthday Traditions: In many ethnic communities, birthdays are celebrated with a lot more than cake and candles:"

Oakland Magazine:
John McCrea and Cake:

Sac News & Reviews:
Profile of Christian Kiefer:

Tuesday, March 19, 2019

8th annual Chin Up for Writers Day

Gulliver from the New York Public Library's collections

Yep, akin to Festivus, I invented my own national day, and it is on its eighth year: the National Chin Up for Writers Day. It originated as a response to a friend on Facebook bemoaning the seeming impossibility of achieving traditional publication, and each year I post a new take on it because it seems so important.

When you're in the rejection stage, it just feels endless. It feels like you can't refresh your email often enough. You wonder what agents are doing. You muse over whether the fact that your email account was pharmaspammed in the last few years means that your emails aren't actually making their way to agents' inboxes, because surely only something so drastic could explain why you aren't hearing back immediately with jaw-dropping interest.

In some ways, you actually deplore the arrival of Friday, because it means you have two days to live through until business hours start up again (but on the other hand, it makes Mondays something nicer than they normally are, because they become hopeful days! Cue the endless refreshing of email).

I've been there and I continue to be there, despite having six traditionally published novels under my belt from publishers like Random House and Kensington. And I too need to remind myself to keep my chin up, because it does seem harder than ever now to capture an agent's heart, mind and willingness to represent you.

Hope springs eternal, though, as I winch my chin up (I imagine a pulley system connected to my ears, something Lilliputians have hooked up to me as if I was Gulliver), and as I write this to you, dear reader, to keep your chin up, too.

It only takes one person to say yes. And in the meantime, while waiting, we can read beautiful books to learn from them, we can start a new project or turn wiser eyes on old ones, and we can even binge-watch The Haunting of Hill House while binge-eating leftover soda bread from St. Patrick's Day! Or is that just me?

Believe in yourself and your book.

That is all.

. . . .

Interested in previous year's posts?
First year
Second year
Third year

Sixth year: the year I forgot
7th year: I reposted year one, as an "evergreen" post. I never said I wasn't lazy.

. . . . 

Wednesday, February 27, 2019

Introducing the Mailstrom Writing Clinic

For nine years, I taught the online novel writing classes for mediabistro, including developing curriculum for an advanced class. When that company sold a few years ago, my time ended. I've wanted since then to start up my own classes, and that is happening now.

A maelstrom is a vortex or a powerful whirlpool, so I'm playing on my name with the class title of Mailstrom Writing Clinic. I enter the confusion and turmoil of a novel in progress to cheerlead students on, while guessed it... cracking the whip.

Several of my students have gone on to find traditional publication: Lian Dolan, Lisa Beazley Kling, Jenny D. Williams, Lisa Takeuchi Cullen, and Barbara Barnett (there may be others; pardon me if I am missing you! And let me know so I can add your name). My class was featured in an article at Books Make A Difference; I love working with writers to spur them on to keep working on their book, to love it harder, to make the pages flow.

I'm opening up a small class, limited to eight writers, in March. If all goes well, I'll offer this class on a rotating basis, starting up in May when this one ends, and every three months henceforth. Here are the details for this upcoming class.

Welcome to the Mailstrom Writing Clinic
a vortex of cheerleading with a whip

These classes are intended for people who are already underway on a novel, who don't need help getting started but do need it to push forward to a final draft.

We meet online for 10 weeks, which includes:
  • Ten downloadable lectures aimed at craft issues and motivating you onward
  • The chance to share up to six double-spaced pages every week for peer and instructor critique
  • The opportunity to learn from others' work, by reading closely and offering up fair critique
  • A live, one-hour text chat on Wednesdays 5 p.m.PST/8 p.m. EST, which is fun and encouraging
  • Camaraderie with other writers on the same exciting journey
  • Accountability! Everyone loves a deadline, right?
  • An intimate environment (classes cap at eight students) to share your work privately
  • A cheerleader with a whip (me!) who loves inciting writers to productivity

Erika Mailman is the author of six traditionally-published novels (Random House, Kensington, and others) under her own name and the pen name Lynn Carthage. She has been a Bram Stoker finalist, a Yaddo fellow, and winner of several awards, including the IPPY gold medal for historical fiction. Her historical novel The Witch's Trinity was a San Francisco Chronicle Notable Book and appeared on Entertainment Weekly's list of "Wickedly Great Books about Witches." She holds an MFA in poetry and taught mediabistro's online novel writing classes for nine years, as well as teaching community college English and leading workshops at many national writing conferences, including the Writers Digest Novel Writing Conference. and

Our first session is March 11-May 26, with a break April 15-21. The first chat is Wednesday, March 13, and the last is May 22.

The charge is $400, which must be prepaid by PayPal by March 8.
Financial details: If you are unsatisfied and wish to withdraw after our second chat, I will refund half the class amount. After that point, I cannot provide a refund. Please be aware that since the class is capped at eight, you may be taking a slot that cannot later be filled.

For more details or to register, contact me via email at erika {\\at\\}


UPDATE: WE'RE NOW on our second session of the class, which ends in late August 2019. We'll start another one in September. Stay tuned, or email me at myfirstname AT to learn more (remember, I'm spelled with a K!)

. . . .

Monday, December 10, 2018

Entertainment Weekly lists Witch's Trinity as #5 in their list of witchy reads

I was dazzled to learn that Entertainment Weekly listed my witchcraft novel in their fun list of Wickedly Great Books About Witches. I had pulled up the list for another project I'm working on and started clicking through, believing I was not even included on the list. I gasped when my own book cover showed up in the #5 slot.

Yay! Thanks, EW and authors Christian Holub and David Canfield, for including me. So many wonderful witchcraft books are out there. I love this genre and these writers. It's important to remember and learn from the horrific tragedies of the past, when simple bad luck could be blamed on the woman in your villageand she could burn or hang for it.

. . . .