Ask the Author: Marci Diehl
Answered Questions (3)
Marci Diehl
Writing is as natural to me as breathing. In fact, I think of it as a kind of alien breath -- if you are from the Writer Planet, it's how you breathe. When you're not writing something -- and I mean, any sort of writing that is communicating something to someone somewhere -- you feel stifled.
I grew up writing. I started writing letters as a second grader, writing to my aunt, who was a nun teaching in the Baltimore/Philadelphia area. I kept that correspondence going for about 50 years, until she died. I wrote long, long letters, sometimes in one of those composition notebooks with the black marbled covers. I wrote over a period of days or weeks, until I finished the letter -- by that time it was more of a journal written to one person.
I wrote plays and columns and short stories and all sorts of things as a teen. I wrote huge missives to my college love that I had to add extra postage to mail. Then, I got married right out of college. And my writing fizzled out for years -- ten, to be exact, as I concentrated on being a Super Wife and mother to 4 sons in 8 years.
So when I say I feel stifled without writing, I know how that feels. But here's the thing -- I never stopped reading. I was and am an avid reader when I'm not writing. I read wonderful books, books I fell in love with, by writers I fell in love with. And there in lies one answer to this question of how I get inspired to write.
Great writing inspires me to want to write. I want to create that magic I feel when I read something wonderful.
I'm inspired every day. Titles come me. Ideas for stories roll around in my head like marbles in an empty drawer as I walk every day. It's sort of a problem -- I see too many things, hear too many pieces of people's stories, and see too many chances to write, all the while trying to get normal things done in a day, like earn a living and nurture real relationships and try to get the carpeting in my downstairs pulled out...
The details of Real Life on this planet may cut into writing time, but they are also great for enriching the stories forming like cloud formations on my Writer Planet.
I grew up writing. I started writing letters as a second grader, writing to my aunt, who was a nun teaching in the Baltimore/Philadelphia area. I kept that correspondence going for about 50 years, until she died. I wrote long, long letters, sometimes in one of those composition notebooks with the black marbled covers. I wrote over a period of days or weeks, until I finished the letter -- by that time it was more of a journal written to one person.
I wrote plays and columns and short stories and all sorts of things as a teen. I wrote huge missives to my college love that I had to add extra postage to mail. Then, I got married right out of college. And my writing fizzled out for years -- ten, to be exact, as I concentrated on being a Super Wife and mother to 4 sons in 8 years.
So when I say I feel stifled without writing, I know how that feels. But here's the thing -- I never stopped reading. I was and am an avid reader when I'm not writing. I read wonderful books, books I fell in love with, by writers I fell in love with. And there in lies one answer to this question of how I get inspired to write.
Great writing inspires me to want to write. I want to create that magic I feel when I read something wonderful.
I'm inspired every day. Titles come me. Ideas for stories roll around in my head like marbles in an empty drawer as I walk every day. It's sort of a problem -- I see too many things, hear too many pieces of people's stories, and see too many chances to write, all the while trying to get normal things done in a day, like earn a living and nurture real relationships and try to get the carpeting in my downstairs pulled out...
The details of Real Life on this planet may cut into writing time, but they are also great for enriching the stories forming like cloud formations on my Writer Planet.
Marci Diehl
I'm trying to decide which of the 5 titles I have in my head should be my next book. I have a decent start on one, but am puzzling over what the male character's story is. He hasn't told me yet. Another has most of the story/plot lined up. Then there are the titles that live on post-it notes on my desk. Sadly, they still need real stories to belong to. They're vague dreams, really. Meanwhile, I write on the magazine/marketing side for a living.
Marci Diehl
When I was 18, I took a similar trip in Europe and kept a travel journal.
Turning 18 is a threshold for girls – a step into early womanhood, and
most 18 year olds think they know all they need to at that stage. I think I
certainly felt that way. The tour I took was so terrible I knew it would make
a great (possibly funny) book someday. It wasn’t until I was grown and reread the journal that I saw myself as an 18 year old complaining endlessly about the misadventures of the tour, not appreciating what was before me. I did see how much I loved my family for keeping their sense of humor and bond despite separation.
I imagined a different story unfolding. It was a story about the love
between mothers and daughters, aunts who were like “second mothers,”
and the bond of sisters. I also wanted to write about the idea of the
lightning-strike of love during a summer holiday, and the question of
whether you fall in love with someone because of his charisma and talent.
The push-pull of love.
Our trip also included dumping that tour and heading to Athens, where
my aunt, uncle and cousins were staying after being evacuated out of
Jordan during wartime. The uncle character in the novel is based upon
my own uncle, who was a spy for the U.S. – but I had no idea as a teen
that he was an important intelligence officer. I thought the idea of writing
about the “normal” side of a spy’s family life was intriguing and lent an
unusual element to Bridey’s story.
Turning 18 is a threshold for girls – a step into early womanhood, and
most 18 year olds think they know all they need to at that stage. I think I
certainly felt that way. The tour I took was so terrible I knew it would make
a great (possibly funny) book someday. It wasn’t until I was grown and reread the journal that I saw myself as an 18 year old complaining endlessly about the misadventures of the tour, not appreciating what was before me. I did see how much I loved my family for keeping their sense of humor and bond despite separation.
I imagined a different story unfolding. It was a story about the love
between mothers and daughters, aunts who were like “second mothers,”
and the bond of sisters. I also wanted to write about the idea of the
lightning-strike of love during a summer holiday, and the question of
whether you fall in love with someone because of his charisma and talent.
The push-pull of love.
Our trip also included dumping that tour and heading to Athens, where
my aunt, uncle and cousins were staying after being evacuated out of
Jordan during wartime. The uncle character in the novel is based upon
my own uncle, who was a spy for the U.S. – but I had no idea as a teen
that he was an important intelligence officer. I thought the idea of writing
about the “normal” side of a spy’s family life was intriguing and lent an
unusual element to Bridey’s story.
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