As much as I love holding a finished book in my hand—quietly, alone, when the big box arrives—nothing gives me greater peace than to know that I have a new idea stirring. New worlds to build. New characters to decode. New metaphors.
Working toward the next is, in fact, the only way I know how to live with what already exists. How to maintain my perspective. How to keep the spotlight where it must be—not on the past but on the future. How to hold true to who I actually am—a writer, not a brand builder, not a saleswoman, not a stumper.
Yesterday, reading, again Sally Mann's
Hold Still, I came upon these words at the start of her ninth chapter. They resonate with me:
When I get asked what one piece of advice I have for young photographers, this is what I tell them: if you are working on a project, and you're thinking maybe it's time to put it out into the world, make sure you have already started your next body of work. Not just started, either: you should be well along on it. You will know that the first project is finished when you find yourself joylessly going through the motions to eke out a few more pictures while, like a forbidden lover, the new ones call seductively to you. This new lover should be irresistible, and when it calls, you will be in its urgent thrall, making the work of your heart.
This week's focus is on Nina LaCour's
Hold Still, and Nina
talked about how it was difficult to portray main character Caitlin's grief at the suicide of her best friend Ingrid without having the whole story filled with angst, which would be hard for a reader to bear.
For discussion: If you've read
Hold Still, did you stay with Caitlin in her dark moments, and follow her into the times where she found light? How did you think the balance worked? Did it feel true?
And, in general, have you read other books where the narrator was grieving? How did the author do with the balance of despair and hope?
This week, our featured title is one that deals with how we move forward in the face of grief. HOLD STILL, just out in paperback, would be a beautiful, worthy pick no matter what, but we think it particularly dovetails with this month's theme of resilience.
The book has received rave reviews from trade journals and readers alike, and with good reason - steady pacing, authenticity, and wonderfully-rounded characters make for a compelling read. Don't believe me? Here's what School Library Journal had to say:
After losing her best friend, Ingrid, to suicide, Caitlin is completely immobilized. Unable to function, and refusing to visit a therapist, she begins the long journey to wellness alone. During this year of heart-wrenching, raw emotion, Caitlin finds Ingrid's journal, which not only reveals her descent into irreversible depression, but also serves as Caitlin's vehicle for renewed hope in the future. The book is written with honesty, revealing one's pain after the loss of a loved one. Caitlin learns, with the help of new friends and her parents, that there is life after Ingrid.
I'm thrilled to welcome Nina LaCour to readergirlz!
Recently I did a Q&A on my blog, and a woman named Melissa wrote in to ask if I found it difficult to write about grief. This is what I told her:"Yes, Melissa, it was really hard. On one hand, it was difficult because I wanted Caitlin’s emotional state to be believable–I wanted her to be appropriately stunned and confused and sad–but I also had to keep in mind that people would (hopefully) be reading this, and that most readers (myself included) can only take so much angst. Angst is a good thing, but it can only take you so far."
My novel, Hold Still, is about a 16-year-old girl named Caitlin who has to face life—and high school—after her best friend’s suicide. It wasn’t easy to put myself in that situation and imagine what it would feel like to be her. But the novel isn’t as sad as you might think, and the joyful parts, when Caitlin is discovering the wonders of life again, feeling things
Hold Still by Nina LaCour
Have you ever read a book that you found so profound and mesmerizing, that the thought of explaining it to people caused you to fear not giving the story what it truly deserved? That is how I feel about Nina LaCour’s debut novel, HOLD STILL (Dutton, October 2009). When I read the description of the book and discovered that it was about teenage suicide and how a best friend deals with the tragic loss, I was very reluctant to give it a chance. But from the very first chapter, when you learn that Caitlin has discovered a journal kept by her best friend Ingrid, a journal that will hopefully provide some answers to what led Ingrid to do the unspeakable, I was hooked. Both Caitlin’s story and Ingrid’s interior journey provides one of the most emotional and thought-provoking novels about adolescence. It is a story, that although it deals with a truly devastating event, is filled with such hope and faith in the power of healing and the resilience of the human spirit.
This book is written in the most beautiful, fluid writing that captures the heart and soul of the main character, Caitlin. The connection Caitlin builds with readers is authentic and honest and real. I literally could not put it down. I was going to wait until October to run the review but I couldn’t wait. Don’t worry, I will be mentioning the release when October rolls around to remind everyone to check it out!
Here is the description:
HOLD STILL by Nina LaCour (Dutton, October 2009)
An arresting story about starting over after a friend’s suicide, froma breakthrough new voice in YA fiction
dear caitlin, there are so many things that i want so badly to tell you but i just can’t.
Devastating, hopeful, hopeless, playful . . . in words and illustrations, Ingrid left behind a painful farewell in her journal for Caitlin. Now Caitlin is left alone, by loss and by choice, struggling to find renewed hope in the wake of her best friend’s suicide. With the help of family and newfound friends, Caitlin will encounter first love, broaden her horizons, and start to realize that true friendship didn’t die with Ingrid. And the journal which once seemed only to chronicle Ingrid’s descent into depression, becomes the tool by which Caitlin once again reaches out to all those who loved Ingrid—and Caitlin herself.
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Sounds awesome–moving it up in the pile!