Read Online The New Year's Quilt (Elm Creek Quilts Novels) by Jennifer Chiaverini - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jennifer Chiaverini
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seems like the perfect gift for a history buff, doesn’t it?”
“It made her miserable,” said Julius.
“But don’t ever tell my mother,” Adele warned them. “She doesn’t know. Anyway, for a few days after Christmas I alternated between reading chapters of the book and moping around the inn in a brood. Whenever our guests couldn’t overhear, I complained to Julius about relevant historical details omitted from the book, other sources that the author should have consulted, and conclusions that didn’t fit the historical record. Again and again I asked, ‘How can this guy get his book published and I can’t?’
“Finally, Julius must have heard enough, because he retorted, ‘How? By having the courage to actually sit down and write his book, and send it out into the world so that people like you could stew in jealousy and gripe about how you could have done better.’ ”
“You said that?” Andrew asked Julius. “How many nights did you have to sleep on the sofa afterward?”
“Not long,” said Julius. “Less than a week.”
“Oh, don’t believe him,” said Adele, laughing. “I knew he was right. And yes, I had been duly chastened. But the task of sitting down and writing an entire book was still too overwhelming to contemplate. Then I had a revelation: I didn’t have to write the entire book in one sitting.”
Everyone laughed.
“That might seem obvious to you,” said Adele, “and anyone else with common sense, but it wasn’t something I had consciously considered before. Finally I realized that the only way I would ever be a published writer was if I sat down and wrote something.”
“That is an important part of the process,” said Julius, his mouth quirking in a grin.
“I had to push thoughts of failure out of my mind,” said Adele. “I told myself that even if I never published my book, it was important to record all I had learned about the Colcrafts and the history of this wonderful brownstone. I was sure our guests would enjoy learning what my research had uncovered, even if no publisher thought the story was worth putting on bookstore shelves. So I made a New Year’s resolution: Every day I had to sit down and write a few sentences. I stopped thinking about writing an entire book and instead just focused on those few sentences each day.”
“Did you keep your resolution?” asked Sylvia.
“Even on weekends and holidays,” said Julius proudly, with an affectionate smile for his wife.
“Running the B&B was still my first love, and I have high standards, so it wasn’t easy to find writing time,” said Adele. “But I managed. As the weeks passed, I accumulated more and more pages, I wrote for longer stretches of time, and my confidence increased. I was doing it. I was actually writing my book, something I feared I could never do.”
“She printed out one copy for each guest room in the inn and had them spiral bound,” said Julius. “Our guests read the book, and loved it, and some even asked for autographed copies to take home.”
“I had Julius read through the manuscript before I made the guests’ copies,” Adele hastened to add. “I wanted some editorial oversight, at least. I do have my pride.”
“One day, one of our guests asked Adele if she minded if he showed her book to a friend who worked for a publisher,” said Julius. “By that time Adele had been sending the manuscript around to literary agents, and had even submitted it to a few contests, but received only rejection letters in reply.”
“That was a fun time,” said Adele dryly. “Our guest’s offer was the first real glimmer of hope I’d seen. Did I mind if he showed it to his friend? Was he crazy? I would have driven him to his friend’s office and watched him personally deliver the manuscript if I hadn’t thought that would seem too desperate. If I had known that his friend was a senior editor at New York University Press, I might have been too terrified to let him do it, so
“It made her miserable,” said Julius.
“But don’t ever tell my mother,” Adele warned them. “She doesn’t know. Anyway, for a few days after Christmas I alternated between reading chapters of the book and moping around the inn in a brood. Whenever our guests couldn’t overhear, I complained to Julius about relevant historical details omitted from the book, other sources that the author should have consulted, and conclusions that didn’t fit the historical record. Again and again I asked, ‘How can this guy get his book published and I can’t?’
“Finally, Julius must have heard enough, because he retorted, ‘How? By having the courage to actually sit down and write his book, and send it out into the world so that people like you could stew in jealousy and gripe about how you could have done better.’ ”
“You said that?” Andrew asked Julius. “How many nights did you have to sleep on the sofa afterward?”
“Not long,” said Julius. “Less than a week.”
“Oh, don’t believe him,” said Adele, laughing. “I knew he was right. And yes, I had been duly chastened. But the task of sitting down and writing an entire book was still too overwhelming to contemplate. Then I had a revelation: I didn’t have to write the entire book in one sitting.”
Everyone laughed.
“That might seem obvious to you,” said Adele, “and anyone else with common sense, but it wasn’t something I had consciously considered before. Finally I realized that the only way I would ever be a published writer was if I sat down and wrote something.”
“That is an important part of the process,” said Julius, his mouth quirking in a grin.
“I had to push thoughts of failure out of my mind,” said Adele. “I told myself that even if I never published my book, it was important to record all I had learned about the Colcrafts and the history of this wonderful brownstone. I was sure our guests would enjoy learning what my research had uncovered, even if no publisher thought the story was worth putting on bookstore shelves. So I made a New Year’s resolution: Every day I had to sit down and write a few sentences. I stopped thinking about writing an entire book and instead just focused on those few sentences each day.”
“Did you keep your resolution?” asked Sylvia.
“Even on weekends and holidays,” said Julius proudly, with an affectionate smile for his wife.
“Running the B&B was still my first love, and I have high standards, so it wasn’t easy to find writing time,” said Adele. “But I managed. As the weeks passed, I accumulated more and more pages, I wrote for longer stretches of time, and my confidence increased. I was doing it. I was actually writing my book, something I feared I could never do.”
“She printed out one copy for each guest room in the inn and had them spiral bound,” said Julius. “Our guests read the book, and loved it, and some even asked for autographed copies to take home.”
“I had Julius read through the manuscript before I made the guests’ copies,” Adele hastened to add. “I wanted some editorial oversight, at least. I do have my pride.”
“One day, one of our guests asked Adele if she minded if he showed her book to a friend who worked for a publisher,” said Julius. “By that time Adele had been sending the manuscript around to literary agents, and had even submitted it to a few contests, but received only rejection letters in reply.”
“That was a fun time,” said Adele dryly. “Our guest’s offer was the first real glimmer of hope I’d seen. Did I mind if he showed it to his friend? Was he crazy? I would have driven him to his friend’s office and watched him personally deliver the manuscript if I hadn’t thought that would seem too desperate. If I had known that his friend was a senior editor at New York University Press, I might have been too terrified to let him do it, so
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