Where Real Life and Fiction Intersect (Part 1)

An author e-friend of mine named Amy M. Bennett* (who was kind enough to leave an endorsement of Finding Grace on my Amazon page) recently posted the above quote on her Facebook page, and I just had to share it here.  It's so true! Although there can't help but be some autobiographical elements in works of fiction (particularly in an author's first novel), my main character, Grace Kelly, is definitely not me, and her story is not my story.  I'd tell you one glaring difference in the way our stories turned out right now, but that might spoil the book for those of you who haven't read it yet.  (Hey, if you haven't read it and you'd like to get your hands on a copy, e-mail me and we'll talk.  I can send you a signed copy for lower than the Amazon price and I'd love to hear from you!)

Anyhoo--

I thought it might be kind of fun to do a little series here on the blog, outlining the characters who were inspired in part by people I actually know or knew, but over the course of the four-and-a-half-year writing process completely took on a life of their own, as well as the places, events, and other elements in the book that come from true experiences I've had, versus the things that are completely made up (as well as the things that sort of happened, but were tweaked and used in a different way to fit my story).

It can be like one of those "The Making of" extras that come with DVD's sometimes--those short films that give the viewer a better idea of the process the writer, director, actors, and producers went through to create the movie.  It will be a "The Making of Finding Grace" blogumentary (is that a word?), in installments, for those of you who are interested.

My husband and I are still out west visiting with our oldest son, his wife, and our three beautiful granddaughters, and I haven't had the drive or the energy to do a whole lot of writing this week.  Plus it's very cute: the two-year-old-twins don't like to see us on our iPhones or any other gadgets that make us inattentive.  Our second oldest son called to talk to his dad yesterday, and Cutie Pie stood at her Papa's feet, crying and saying, "Phone off!"  Sooooo...the last thing I want to do is spend time blogging while they're awake; and by the time they go to sleep at night, I'm too tired!  (As my mother-in-law always used to say, taking care of little people full-time is definitely for the young!)

I recently got an e-mail from a lovely blogging friend of mine named Erica (of Boys, Books, and Balls), who read FG and told me, "I love to discover that an author I enjoy reading has a blog. It is fun to know more about them and to understand why they wrote the story in the first place."  That got me thinking that there might be other readers out there who would also be interested in knowing more about why I wrote my book and which elements are slightly autobiographical.

I'm not going to tackle this little project in earnest until I get back into my normal routine, but here are a few tidbits to start out.:

1. I did grow up in Plattsburgh, NY (from the age of 10, anyway).  Like Grace, I lived in town, right around the corner from the state university.  Our house # was 185, too, but I named the street "Montclair Street" in the book, because I was born in Montclair, NJ.

2.  My best friend from grade school did live out on the lake, in Cumberland Head, and she did have Italian relatives in Troy.  But the main reason I needed Irene to have relatives who'd immigrated from Italy was that I wanted there to be a personal connection between them and Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati (whom I feel a devotion to and wanted to include in the book).

3. I did not have five older brothers, like Grace.  I was the second-born child (firstborn daughter) in a family of three girls and two boys.  Grace's older brothers in the book are definitely inspired by my own five sons.

4. Kelly was my mother's maiden name; Pomeroy was my paternal grandmother's maiden name; Buckley was my late mother-in-law's maiden name; Roach was my late father-in-law's mother's maiden name; and Mundy is the married name of one of my husband's sisters.  I did not use any of these names by accident!  I wanted to honor both my husband's family and mine by using these names for prominent characters.

Okay, that's just a little teaser to hold you over until next time.  In the meantime, if you'd like more information about what inspired me to start writing Finding Grace in the first place, you can click on this link to a CatholicMom.com article from November of 2012.  (There is a little typo at the beginning, where I am introduced as guest contributor Laura Grace--and now I wish I'd actually had Grace as my middle name. But my dad decided I didn't need one...and if you've read the first chapter of my book, now you know one way Grace's dad and mine are very much alike!)

(*Amy M. Bennett is the author of a soon-to-be-released novel titled End of the Road.)

A Couple of Saturday Morning Re-runs

Obviously, I'm taking the idea of "summer vacation" very seriously, because I can't seem to find the energy to sit down and write an original blog post--at least not on any sort of regular basis.  I used to plant myself in front of my laptop the second I had my coffee made, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed, thinking I had all sorts of things to say.  These days, I wonder if I'm all blogged out.

However, I've gotten some very sweet and supportive emails and Facebook messages recently that have convinced me that perhaps I shouldn't close up shop here for good, at least not just yet.  But until the juices start flowing again, I'm going to re-posts some oldies, if that's okay with you.  Even if you've been following this blog forever (hello, faithful husband of mine), you may have forgotten them by now.  And if you're new here, you'll get an idea of what goes on every day on my humble little blogsite.

Thanks for stopping by!  And I promise I'll try to push through this blogger's block and start pumping out some new posts for you!

Until then, here's a re-run from last year:

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Terms of Endearment

My husband has recently taken to calling me his "best girl."  When he first called me this, about a week or so ago, my first instinct was to smile and--hoping to make him laugh--to tease him, "Best?  Your best girl?  Are there others?  Is there a long list or something?  I mean, I'm glad I'm at the top.  But I thought I was your only girl."  My poor, sweet husband! He was only trying, after over thirty years of marriage and a retinue of oft-used endearing pet names he has for me, to mix it up a little.  To make me feel special.  And he does. That guy makes me feel special every day of my life.  He's my best guy (and I'm his best girl). Period.

A couple of days ago, our second oldest son came for an overnight visit.  (He's a high school teacher and this week is his spring break, and he decided to spend part of his vacation catching up with his dear old mom and dad.)  He heard his father call me by this new term of endearment, and his take on it was different than mine: he thought it sounded like something out of the fifties, something you'd hear a husband say to his wife on a black and white T.V. show. Like something Ward Cleaver might call June on "Leave it to Beaver."

"Exactly," my husband said.  That's just what he'd been going for: a sort of throwback to some of that good, old-fashioned chivalry and gentlemanly courtesy so lacking in our modern world.  And really, it's actually a huge compliment: it means that out of all the girls he could have chosen, I guess he liked me best!  How lucky am I?

I've decided that I'm going to start calling my hubby my "main squeeze."  And I'm going to be slightly disappointed if I do and he doesn't come back with, "Your main squeeze?  Are there others?  How many squeezes do you have, anyway?"  If he does, it will be exactly what I deserve.  (When he gets up, I'm going to execute this little experiment, and tomorrow I'll post the results.)


The above painting is called "Little Spooners," by Norman Rockwell.  That's my husband and me on that sagging bench.  At least, that's what I always see when I look at this piece of artwork.

And because I know you're just dying to know the results of my experiment, here's another oldie (and hopefully goodie):

Friday, April 27, 2012

I Think I'll Keep Him

Well, here are the promised results of the little experiment I conducted yesterday morning. (If you haven't read yesterday's post, "Terms of Endearment," you might want to, or this one won't make much sense.)

After I published my blog post, I went upstairs to see what my beloved was up to.  He was in our bedroom, getting ready to change out of his jammies into gym shorts and an Under Armor muscle shirt so that he could start his daily P90X work-out (or as I like to think of it, the "gun show").

"How's my main squeeze doin' today?" I asked, just as sweet as pie.

He did not joke around and say, "Hey, wait a minute!  I'm only your main squeeze?  How many other squeezes do you have, anyway?"--as I thought he might.  No, he simply smiled that killer smile that has melted this heart of mine since I was a fifteen-year-old schoolgirl.

I know I said yesterday that I would be a bit disappointed if he didn't come back with a teasing retort when I used this unfamiliar term of endearment, but I've changed my mind. He's a better man than I (well, you know what I mean), because although he can tease with the best of them, and the two of us love to make each other laugh, my husband can be a big old marshmallow--a really romantic guy--when it comes to his "best girl."

Here's one of my favorite pictures of my main squeeze.   I love that smile of his.

I think I'll keep him. 

Theme Thursday: Rooms

After being a bit of a blogging slacker, I'm trying to get back in the game this week.  And what better catalyst to get my tush off the bench is there than a fun link-up?  So today I'm joining Cari and her photography-loving friends for another round of Theme Thursday.

Today's topic: ROOMS.

Great topic!  There are plenty of rooms in our house that I love to spend time in and would be proud to show you, in all their homey/comfy/put-your-feet-up-on-the-coffee-table/not-quite-Pinterest-material splendor; but when I hear the word "rooms," the one that springs to mind is our man cave/sports room, a two-car garage that we converted into living space over a decade ago (but still tend to refer to as the "new room").

This room is a paean to the men in my family and their love of sports.  They love it.  Their friends love it.  Every pizza delivery boy who's ever seen it says, "Wow.  I want a room like this."

So here we go: the new room, in pictures.

Note my husband's Notre Dame rugby jacket hanging up above the door.  
(He wore that thing for about 20 years, until it got threadbare and  I made him retire it.)
There's also a football signed by Joe Namath in this shot, on top of the fridge.

This area is filled with Red Sox homages.  (And the little red skis there on the wall are the ones my youngest son learned on, and in a Pinterest-worthy move, I re-purposed them as hooks for hanging coats, hats, and bags.)

Of course, our man cave has the requisite 70" flat screen smart TV, with HD, 3-D, surround sound--
and you name a bell or a whistle, it has it.

My only complaint about this room is that I've run out of wall space completely.
(If we ever have to move, when we take all the pictures down the walls will resemble Swiss cheese.)

Our boys' high school football jerseys are among my favorite decorations in this room.The blanket on my husband's leather recliner, with a photo of  him and our twin granddaughters on it, is another favorite.  (And what room would be complete without a Gold's Gym power tower in it?  You just never know when you're going to have to knock out a few dips or pull-ups, right?  Or is that just my family?)

Our boys' high school varsity letters; my husband's cowboy hat collection.

Note the two photos in the middle row, on the left.  The black and white one is my husband during his high school glory days; the color one next to it is our oldest son, who looks like a mirror image of his dad here.

Here's a treasured photo that has pride of place in the room: at our #4 son's Junior Parents Weekend at Notre Dame, we got our picture taken with legendary ND football coach Lou Holtz, who was a speaker at one of the events.

Our oldest son and a buddy once ran into ESPN personality Scott Van Pelt at a bar, and of course
the photographic proof of that brush with fame earned a spot on the wall.

And finally, what man cave would be complete without a bar?

Okay, that's ten pictures.  So...have you seen enough of this epic room yet?  ("Yes, Laura," I can hear you saying.  "We're mature blog-reading women, not teenaged Domino's delivery boys!")

Sometimes I just like to show it off, that's all.  For better or worse, the "new room" is my greatest home decorating triumph.

Go Saints!  (That's my sons' high school team name, FYI)
Go Irish! 
Go Patriots!
Go Red Sox!
Go Bruins!

And go on over to Cari's for more rooms!

Review of Suite Francaise, a Novel

Recently, I volunteered to become a book reviewer for a website called CatholicFiction.net. Pretty much immediately after I'd gotten all signed up, I panicked a bit and wanted to rescind the offer; after all, I'd never written a book review before (unless you count my schoolgirl book reports and college English Lit papers).  But I've been trying to go outside my comfort zone lately--to stop always being such a fraidy-cat about trying new things. Also, I really want to do whatever I can to support this website, because it plays such an important role in promoting the cause of a true Catholic literary revival.

So...if you're looking for a good book but you're tired of all the smut found in mainstream bestsellers, and you want to read fiction that unapologetically includes positive references to God and faith but you're not exactly sure where to find such an animal, you should visit CatholicFiction.net and check out some of the titles that have been reviewed.  There you'll find "stories that capture the imagination and explore human frailties and the grittiness of life with beauty, love, hope, redemption, courage, and the grace of God."

Anyway, here is my first-ever published review.  I hope it makes you want to read Suite Francaise!

Suite Francaise

July 10, 2012 by Laura H. Pearl No Comments

Available at Amazon.com

Author : Irene Nemirovsky
Genre : Drama
Date Published: April 10, 2007 (Originally published in 1942)
Number of Pages: 448
Print Price: $10.20
eBook Price: $11.99
Audio Price: $11.69

I had the good fortune to stumble upon a paperback copy of Irene Nemirovsky’s magnificent novel, Suite Francaise, at an airport bookstore about a year or so ago, and I devoured it during a long wait between flights.  I just finished reading it again and found it no less absorbing or satisfying the second time around.  I’ve always had a weakness for stories set during the Second World War, and that’s what drew me to Suite Francaise; but one needn’t be a World War II history buff to enjoy this extraordinary book.

To read the entire review, click here.

Summertime, Summertime, Sum-Sum-Summertime

Hi there, readers.  Did you miss me?  (Don't answer that.)

It's been six days since I put up a post, which I believe is the longest break I've taken since "String of Pearls" was a start-up blog back in March of 2011.  I guess I just needed a short summer siesta.  Make that a long summer siesta. My husband and I have been visiting with about 50 Pearl relatives at the family's lakeside homestead in Upstate NY, and it's just been too busy and chaotic and fun and exhausting (because bedtimes have been thrown completely out the window--and I'm not just talking about kids' bedtimes here; I'm talking about grown-up bedtimes) to even think about firing up the old laptop, much less blogging.  I haven't even had time to read the blogs I normally follow, so I've got a lot of catching up to do.

But summertime is for relaxing, right?  And there's been a whole lot of that going on up here.

This picture of some of my adorable nieces and nephews giving a clinic on what summer relaxation is supposed to look like makes me a bit nostalgic for lazy summer days gone by, when my own boys were sprouts and school was out.  My husband and I are about to pack up the car and head home (and then tomorrow we're winging our way out west, because it's been two months since we saw our granddaughters and we're going through withdrawals), so I don't have time to write as much as I'd like to here.  Instead, here's a re-run of a blog post from almost two years ago, featuring a couple of my sprouts back when they looked an awful lot like their hammock-riding little cousins.  To me, nothing says summertime like a kid-run lemonade stand.

Sunday, August 28, 2011

They're Just Takin' Care of Business

If I wanted to be topical with this blog, I'd talk about Hurricane Irene today, the effects of which we should be feeling here in New England by this afternoon (it's already raining cats and dogs out there); but I just don't feel like talking about the weather. I know, I know: I promised yesterday that I wouldn't obsess about my children and use this blogsite solely for the purpose of posting nostalgia-inducing pictures from their early childhood days. Remember, though: I promised that with fingers crossed...and I just became a true empty-nester, so I think I deserve a little latitude here. It's a tough adjustment to make for someone whose whole identity has been tied up with being a mom for the past 28 years! I think when you look at this little gem of a snapshot, though, you'll forgive me. It's just too cute for words, in my opinion. And I know that just about every apple pie-eating, flag-waving, all-American child has set up a lemonade stand in front of his house at least once in is lifetime. But this lemonade stand is special, you see; it's special because it's my two adorable little businessmen who are running it.

That's my #4 son (now 23) on the left and my #3 son (now 25) on the right. This lemonade stand was son #3's brainchild, of course, because he was the one who was always so interested in money. He liked to earn it, to count it, to spend it; he always insisted on being the banker for epic family games of "Life" and "Monopoly." He became a math whiz before he ever started kindergarten because he became so adept at making change during those board games! My fourth son wasn't the one who came up with the "get rich quick" schemes (and don't laugh--those dimes really added up!); but he was always game for being a partner in his older brother's business endeavors. It should come as no surprise that my third son majored in finance in college--my husband and I predicted he would go into business when he was about four years old!

The funny thing is, these two childhood business partners haven't strayed all that far from the old lemonade stand, figuratively speaking. They remain extremely close to this day. They are actually both working now in the civilian contracting business down in VA (which is just a tad more lucrative than the lemonade selling business). They not only work in similar jobs that utilize their Army Military Intelligence training; they even work in the same building, though on different floors. They drill as Reservists at the same Army base. And just as they shared a bedroom growing up, they share a condo now, along with their cousin's boyfriend. Some things, thankfully, never really change!

Goodbye Again

This morning, my husband and I had to drop our youngest son off at the airport...again.  It wasn't as tough this time around as it was when we dropped him off before his trip to Paris (because that time, he was going to be gone for six weeks, and this time it will be only half that), but still...

After a mere handful of days at home, he's heading down to GA for three weeks of Army Airborne school.   He's really excited about it.  (I, on the other hand, have just gotten brave enough to board an airplane without a stiff drink and a wad of hankies, so I can't imagine wanting to jump OUT of one.  And the last thing I want to imagine is anyone I love jumping out of one.  I think all the gray hairs on my head were caused by the three brothers of his who already went to Airborne school.)

[Sigh...]  I get sad when I see this all-too-familiar sight:

But when my baby saw tears beginning to well up in my eyes before we had to part at security, he said, "Hey, don't worry, Mom.  It's only three weeks, and then I'll be back home again."   That's him--always trying to make me feel better.  I'd say he's really become quite a man, but he was pretty much born that way.

The summer he was 12, he suddenly developed SVT (super ventricular tachycardia): after lacrosse practice, his heart began to race like crazy, and we rushed him over to the ER. When the triage nurse took his pulse, it was going at about 245 beats per minute, and they didn't waste a second getting him back to a treatment room.  After seeing a pediatric cardiologist as a follow-up to the ER episode, we got the good news that although SVT can sometimes be a life-threatening condition depending on the cause, his was not.  But instead of having to take beta-blockers for the rest of his life, his doctor recommended a procedure called an ablation, whereby a small catheter (with a heat zapper thingy on the end of it) is snaked up to the heart through a vein in the groin, and then when the extra electrical pathway that causes the SVT is identified, it's zapped.  If all goes well, the pathway is obliterated and the person is considered 100% cured of the condition.

Remember now, our boy was 12 when he went through this.  After about six hours in surgery, we went to see him back in the recovery room after he woke up...and the very first thing he said to us was, "How are you guys holding up?"  He was concerned about US!

The first ablation didn't work, but the following summer a second procedure was performed and it was completely successful.  I'll never forget that first time, though.  Isn't that something?  "How are you guys holding up?"

This is the kind of boy he's always been: sweet-tempered, thoughtful, calm, and mature beyond his years.  While my husband and I watched through the glass as he went through the security line today, we saw him making friendly chitchat with the TSA employees.  An older, grandmotherly woman really seemed taken with him.  I told my husband she was probably telling our boy she'd like to bake him some cookies.

I know I might be biased, because he is after all my son.  But I think he's an extraordinary young man, and I just love him so much.

Is it any wonder I hate these constant goodbyes?

What I Wore Sunday, Volume 15

It's link-up time!

I'm not going to show you what I wore to church today, because I've already modeled it on this link-up in a previous post.  But I will tell you this about my ensemble: along with my brown cotton sundress and peach-colored cotton shrug, I wore a very, very big smile at the 9:00 a.m. Mass--because my husband and I had one of our boys with us in the pew, for the first Sunday in a long time.  Our baby returned from Paris last night (and he DID get to ride home on the plane his dad was piloting!), and it made me feel so proud and happy that he was there with us this morning.

The last two summers, our son worked at the movie theater, where he had the awesome perk of free movie tickets for himself and a friend, anytime he wanted them.  This summer he's been in France pretty much since he came home from college, so he's had to settle for watching occasional DVD's on his computer and hasn't seen a movie in the theater in ages. He's been dying to see the new Superman movie that came out a few weeks ago, so after we had our post-Mass bacon-and-egg brunch today, we headed out to catch a matinee at his old place of employment.

On the way to the theater, our boy was telling my husband and me that he'd heard people were split about this latest superhero-themed blockbuster: some thought it was fantastic, and others thought it was too over-the-top and didn't like it at all.  Well, after seeing it (in 3-D no less, because all the regular-D showings were sold out, and we didn't feel like coming back later), the three of us all agreed that yes, it's really over-the-top--but in spite of that, we really enjoyed it.  If you're looking for a good escape movie (and you don't mind seeing lots and lots of buildings blown up and destroyed), this might be the movie for you.

We got some really great fashion accessories along with our tickets for Man of Steel, so when we got back from the movie I decided to have my husband take a picture of my boy and me sporting them.

We're just a couple of really cool cats, aren't we?

Here's what we wore to the Sunday afternoon matinee:

My son:
~Long-sleeved polyester Under Armor-type tee (with ND logo and Fisher Hall printed on it): Fisher Hall dorm sales
~UVA lacrosse shorts: a shop in downtown Charlottesville, VA
~Really cool 3-D glasses: Regal Theaters

Me:
~Yellow polka-dot cardigan: Spence Knits, from BJ's Wholesale Club
~White cotton tank: Wal-Mart
~Black denim skirt: Larry Levine, from Goodwill ($4.99, on sale for $2.50!)
~Sandals: Clark's, from JC Penney
~Really cool 3-D glasses: Regal Theaters
~Smile: same one I've been wearing since this kid came home last night

I just love my new/old skirt.  It's deceptively full--it would make great square dancing attire, if one was so inclined.

Isn't it fun?  (It kind of reminds me of Superman's cape in the movie poster above.)

I'm thinking I'll be wearing this comfy, swingy, feminine skirt a lot, because I'm hoping to try to join Rosie (at "a blog for my mom") for a pants-free July...although I've tried to make the switch to dresses and skirts only before, and then jeans call out to me with their Siren's song and I'm too weak to ignore it.  So we'll see.   I'll at least try to wear them more than I do now.

But I WILL be wearing this smile for the next few days, I know that.  As for the next heart-wrenching good-bye at the airport on Wednesday morning, when my son will head down south for three weeks of Airborne school, I'm just not going to think about that right now!

For more fashions, check out the gals over at FLAP.