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One winter morning in 1976, my father was reading the Sunday paper when he stumbled across an ad for ice-skating lessons. He snapped the paper in front of me and asked, “It says you have to be able to skate across the length of the ice to sign up. Can you skate across the ice?”

“Of course I can skate across the ice,” I said, gulping a spoonful of oatmeal.

A minute later he was on the phone, registering me. What on earth made  him believe a five year-old who had never put on a pair of skates could cross a slippery arena, I’ll never know. But I was excited to begin lessons and I imagined zooming around in circles, faster than everyone at South Mountain.

The next week I proudly stepped onto the ice in my new skates.

And promptly fell.

And fell again.

And again.

Then I learned to hold onto the side. And then I learned what it’s like to hit the boards AND the ice. And this was in the days before helmets.

A guard helped me off the ice. She told my father I could not be in group lessons. I thought I might cry. Then she suggested I spend a private lesson with her, learning to skate. My father agreed and by the end of the lesson, I was indeed moving across the ice.

I took group lessons every winter for a few years, earning my USFSA patches faster than everyone else. And when I had completed those patches, they told me I was ready for a coach and private lessons–lessons my family could barely afford.

I went for one private lesson and waited for my coach in the corner, practicing simple figures. I got yelled at by the older skaters beacuse, unbeknown to me, I was hogging the JUMP corner. I was trying to stay out of the way, but I was totally screwing up their double lutzes.

And then when my father heard what time the coach wanted me at the arena–5:30am twice a week–that was the end of private lessons.

Over the years, I skated recreationally instead, going to the arena once a week and trying to teach myself. I was able to do a scratch spin and a waltz jump, crossovers in every direction, and a few fancy turns. But my real desire was to compete. I always thought…some day.

That day came as an adult. As soon as I had my own money, I took lessons. And like I had done as a child, I quickly moved up through the ranks. I hired a coach. I competed. And I won. In 2002, I competed at Adult Nationals in Ann Arbor, Michigan, after winning Gold at Eastern Sectionals and two other Golds, a Silver and a Bronze in other competitions that year. It was a dream come true.

I thought–if I can do this, I can do anything.

And now, here I am today, accepting an offer of literary representation. Skating gave me the confidence to pursue another dream, that of becoming a published children’s author. And now I’m one step closer to that dream.

I’m here to tell you–work hard, believe in yourself and your talents, find a great critique group and writer friends who support you, and go for it!

You will stumble. You will fall. But brush yourself off and soon you’ll hit your stride–or in my case–glide!

10 Comments on You can do it! What Figure Skating Taught Me About Publishing…, last added: 3/27/2010

Sometimes when I watch the Olympics, I wonder about things, like do elephants have their own Olympic games? And if they do, would they have the same events as our Olympics? Here’s the first event that I imagined from their winter games – Elephant Figure Skating:

What's the world coming too? Or at least the world of figure skating? Being a 14 year old national champion doesn't get you a trip to Worlds anymore. Well, they haven't for a couple of years now, but I can still complain, right? Take little Marai Nagasu, who took home the top prize in last night's senior ladies competition. She floated through her dance elements like a polished ballerina--of the quality usually reserved for more experienced skaters. She flew through her jumps, torquing her twists at such a speed that it was hard to tell she ever left the ice. Truth is, there's not much gravity holding her back. At 4' 11' (the height of my protagonist Dree, my fourteen year old gymnast) it might seem easy, but I bet it's hard to gain that much speed when your legs are only as big as twigs. But this is what impressed me the most. She fell in her opening double axle, then rebounded and skated her remaining program without a mistake. Flawless. Beautiful. Exquisite. The qualities of a much older competitor. Afterwards, in the kiss and cry area, she confessed that she was a bit perturbed that she fell and thought it "stupid" so she "attacked" the rest of her program. Good for her! What a star! That's what William (my fourteen year old junior skating champion) would have said in the same situation. "That was bloody stupid!".
It was fun seeing Charlene Wong as Marai's coach. Charlene was the perpetual silver medalist in Canadian figure skating circuit for most of the eighties. I loved her tenacity and always wanted her to break through a take the title, but it didn't happen. Now, she coaches champions. Good for her.
If you missed any of the action last night, check out the ice network for great videos of the competition.
I'll be busy with my manuscript trying to sneak in a scene of William training. Now THAT should be fun!

Been heavy on the writing and reading lately. Went to the book store to find one of the books I was planning to read (Opposite of Invisible) but had to order it. Instead, picked up Speak by well, everyone knows who. Read it in a couple of sittings. Good lord. How did she do that? What a fantastic book.
I went back over it many times, re-reading my favorite parts. I particularly loved the art teacher's role. As an artist, I understand the healing powers of working through a piece of art. Starting it, reworking it, changing colors, switching mediums, tearing it up and starting again. Maybe that's why revisions aren't that scary for me. Nothing can be created in just one sitting.
I loved the annoying friendship with Heather...we all have met these girls. It got me thinking about how my own characters are defined in Greenwood Girls. I think they're all unique, different, talented, etc. but how different are they really. Are they stereotypes? I'm not sure I've done all I can to really develop these characters, especially since they are athletes-and good ones at that.
So, I'm back to revising Greenwood Girls. Changing up dialog, creating tension, deepening the emotional responses. Will it ever be done?

The US Figure Skating Championships are on this weekend. I'm looking forward to catching some new skating stars. Haven't seen any new faces in a while, so I'm anxious to see what this year holds.

Alissa Czisny is one of my current favorites. Maybe it's because she looks so much like my character, William Spenser. Except Alyssa looks very sweet. William is a little edgier.
I'm sure we'll see her in this weeks Nationals.

Stuart P. Green, author of Lying, Cheating, and Stealing: A Moral Theory of White-Collar Crime, is the Louis B. Porterie Professor of Law at Louisiana State University. His book navigates the ambiguity of white-collar crimes by examining the underlying moral fabric and illuminating what conduct is worthy of punishment by criminal sanction. Below Green looks at the case of Lord John Brown.

Earlier this month, Lord John Browne, once hailed as the “Sun King of the oil industry,” resigned from his post as CEO of British Petroleum amid allegations that he had lied to a court about his sexual relationship with another man. The 58-year-old Browne, who is viewed as one of the most accomplished business executives of his generation, had brought an invasion-of-privacy suit seeking to enjoin the Mail on Sunday tabloid newspaper from publishing reports about his four-year relationship with 27-year-old Jeff Chevalier. (more…)

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