by
Hi Friends,
Today I have with me the very talented writer, Sarah Lane whose debut novel,
The God of My Art: A Novel
is out in the market and was the
2012 Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award Quarter finalist.
Sarah Lane was transplanted from California to Canada as a child and grew up in rural British Columbia. As a young adult, wanderlust led her to live abroad in France and the USA, and to travel extensively in Cameroon, Mexico, and Europe.
Mom to two, foodie, speaker of accented French, and all around xenophile, she holds a B.A. in international relations and a M.A. in comparative literature from the University of British Columbia. Her short stories and poetry have been featured in a number of literary journals, including The Antigonish Review, Roar Magazine, and Quills: Canadian Poetry Magazine, among other literary journals.
Welcome to Njkinny’s World of Books, Sarah!
Lets have coffee and begin the interview. 🙂
Q1. Tell us something about yourself.
I
grew up in rural British Columbia on the Canadian west coast. I wrote my first
poem in high school and knew I would be a writer. I love travelling, so I’ve lived years in France and the USA, and I’ve spent months in Cameroon, Mexico,
and Europe. I have a B.A. in international relations and a M.A. in comparative
literature, for which I translated part of an award-winning novel from French
to English. Previous to the publication of The God of My Art: A Novel, I had a number of
short stories and poetry published in various magazines and journals. I’m
currently the mom of two rambunctious toddlers, so finding time to write, or
travel, is hard right now, but I’m hoping for more of both in the future.
grew up in rural British Columbia on the Canadian west coast. I wrote my first
poem in high school and knew I would be a writer. I love travelling, so I’ve lived years in France and the USA, and I’ve spent months in Cameroon, Mexico,
and Europe. I have a B.A. in international relations and a M.A. in comparative
literature, for which I translated part of an award-winning novel from French
to English. Previous to the publication of The God of My Art: A Novel
, I had a number ofshort stories and poetry published in various magazines and journals. I’m
currently the mom of two rambunctious toddlers, so finding time to write, or
travel, is hard right now, but I’m hoping for more of both in the future.
Q2. In one sentence what is your book The God of My Art: A Novelabout?
about?
It’s about the choice to become, or not to become, fully and
authentically yourself.
authentically yourself.
Q3. What inspired you to write this book?
Many things. I was living in France at the time, where
social class structures are quite rigid and obvious. It made me think about the
subtle, hidden social classes of my own culture, which pretends to be
classless, and I wanted to highlight how being born into, for example, the
“welfare” class can have repercussions that follow a woman into adulthood.
Q4. Your one memorable moment while writing this book was?
Walking the lake in Annecy, France, at twilight every
evening after a full day of writing. Those were the days….
evening after a full day of writing. Those were the days….
Q5. Which is your
favorite character from this book and why?
favorite character from this book and why?
I would have to say the central character because she finds
the courage to become herself.
the courage to become herself.
Q6. What do you aim for your readers to take away from this
book?
book?
I hope that readers will take away something that makes them
reflect on their own lives and on their own freedom, or lack thereof, to decide
their lives.
reflect on their own lives and on their own freedom, or lack thereof, to decide
their lives.
Q7. Had you not been a writer then what career would you
have taken?
have taken?
Author.
Q8. Do you write full time or part time? Do you follow a
schedule while writing?
schedule while writing?
I write part time, whenever I can squeeze in an hour or two
away from my two toddlers.
Q9. What are the four most important things you take care to
check while writing a book?
check while writing a book?
I try to avoid wordiness and telling (rather than showing),
and I try to keep my facts straight and my grammar correct.
and I try to keep my facts straight and my grammar correct.
Q10. One advice you would like to give the writers in the
making?
making?
Sit down and start writing. Get lots of books about writing
from the library and read them all. Consider the audience you want to reach and
write for an imaginary person from that audience.
from the library and read them all. Consider the audience you want to reach and
write for an imaginary person from that audience.
Q11. What are your future plans?
My writing projects include finishing my second novel about
an international love affair that may or may not have a happy ending and
starting my third novel about a doppelganger who seeks recognition from her
original self, with tragic consequences.
Now before you go how about an excerpt from your book to intrigue and tantalize us.
an international love affair that may or may not have a happy ending and
starting my third novel about a doppelganger who seeks recognition from her
original self, with tragic consequences.
Now before you go how about an excerpt from your book to intrigue and tantalize us.
I hurry away up the street, crossing over Hastings and
Carrall to turn into the alleyway. On high alert for dirty needles and other
dangerous debris, I start up the darkened lane.
Carrall to turn into the alleyway. On high alert for dirty needles and other
dangerous debris, I start up the darkened lane.
I recognize her right away. She is wearing a black
pair of leggings, platform sandals slightly too big for her feet, a peach
halter top, and a tattered coat with a fake fur trim, the zipper obviously
broken. We are nearing the middle of winter, and I can’t help but wonder if she
is cold. She is tucked between an electrical pole and a graffiti-covered wall,
crouched down with a crack pipe hanging off her lips. As I walk up to her, she
slips the pipe into her handbag and straightens up. She looks like she weighs
ninety pounds at most, her ribs jutting out from under her top.
pair of leggings, platform sandals slightly too big for her feet, a peach
halter top, and a tattered coat with a fake fur trim, the zipper obviously
broken. We are nearing the middle of winter, and I can’t help but wonder if she
is cold. She is tucked between an electrical pole and a graffiti-covered wall,
crouched down with a crack pipe hanging off her lips. As I walk up to her, she
slips the pipe into her handbag and straightens up. She looks like she weighs
ninety pounds at most, her ribs jutting out from under her top.
“Hi, Eddie. I’m Helene.”
She stares at me like I’m an alien from another
planet. I do feel out of my element, and it does seem like a different world
altogether. It smells of rotting cabbage and urine in here, as well as the
remaining chemical odor of whatever she was smoking. The air tastes chalky and
putrid, and the sounds of the city are far away and muffled. All that can be
seen of the overcast sky are the shapes cut out by lines and lines of
electrical and telephone wires, leading deeper and deeper into a tunnel of
dumpsters and pulled-up fire escapes.
planet. I do feel out of my element, and it does seem like a different world
altogether. It smells of rotting cabbage and urine in here, as well as the
remaining chemical odor of whatever she was smoking. The air tastes chalky and
putrid, and the sounds of the city are far away and muffled. All that can be
seen of the overcast sky are the shapes cut out by lines and lines of
electrical and telephone wires, leading deeper and deeper into a tunnel of
dumpsters and pulled-up fire escapes.
I wonder what I’m doing in this dangerous and dirty
place, introducing myself to a skeleton of a junkie.
place, introducing myself to a skeleton of a junkie.
“I’m so sad today,” she blurts out. “It’s my
daughter’s second birthday. I only seen her twice since she was born.”
daughter’s second birthday. I only seen her twice since she was born.”
I hold out the copy of my painting to her.
“What’s this?” she asks. I can see track marks on the
back of her wrist as she reaches for it.
back of her wrist as she reaches for it.
“It’s a painting I made of you. I saw you a few months
ago in front of the train station. I came here to give you a copy.”
ago in front of the train station. I came here to give you a copy.”
She studies the sheet, pinching her burnt lips
together.
together.
I’m considering how best to take my leave when she
says, “They won’t let me see Ashley until I’m clean for seventy-two hours.”
says, “They won’t let me see Ashley until I’m clean for seventy-two hours.”
I glance behind me at the exit to the alleyway half a
block back. I want to ask her why she doesn’t clean up then for three days, but
I realize I am out of my depth. I have no idea what addiction feels like nor to
what compulsions it can drive a person. Yes, my mother is an alcoholic, but I
also saw her recover. So I have nothing to offer this woman, other than my
artistic vision of her as seen by an outsider.
block back. I want to ask her why she doesn’t clean up then for three days, but
I realize I am out of my depth. I have no idea what addiction feels like nor to
what compulsions it can drive a person. Yes, my mother is an alcoholic, but I
also saw her recover. So I have nothing to offer this woman, other than my
artistic vision of her as seen by an outsider.
“You wonder why I don’t do that, right?” she asks. “So
I could make it to her party, right?”
I could make it to her party, right?”
I turn back and give a hesitant nod.
“I’m an addict, and I’ll die an addict.” She gives a
faint smile, showing off a top gum line of missing teeth. “You can’t imagine
the things I do for money. I spend my entire day trying to rip people off. I
sell drugs so I don’t have to sell my body, but I done that when necessary too.
I done just about everything.
faint smile, showing off a top gum line of missing teeth. “You can’t imagine
the things I do for money. I spend my entire day trying to rip people off. I
sell drugs so I don’t have to sell my body, but I done that when necessary too.
I done just about everything.
“I got clean for a few months last year. I was taking
the medicine they prescribed me and doing real good, but then I screwed up and
lost everything. I don’t expect to see my girl again before I die in one of
these back lanes.”
the medicine they prescribed me and doing real good, but then I screwed up and
lost everything. I don’t expect to see my girl again before I die in one of
these back lanes.”
Thanks for taking time to talk to us, Sarah. Njkinny’s World of Books wishes you the best in all your future endeavors and hopes to read more from you. 🙂
Follow Sarah Lane:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/sarahlanebooks
Buy Sarah’s Book:
Indigo Chapters, paperback
Barnes and Nobles, paperback
Thank you so much for taking the time to interview me!
Woot! Woot! Nikita! What a wonderful interview with Sarah Lane! It reads like Sarah's novel…smooth as satin.
Fascinating title, Sarah. Not to mention, you've lived a very interesting life so far–traveling and residing in other countries. Apparently, social classes have not changed much in France since the 1800s! I look forward to reading your book about the impact of hidden social classes on this side of the Atlantic (in North America). Also, congratulations on being an Amazon Breakthrough Award Novelist finalist. That's quite an honor!
Writing a book in France sounds so exotic. Every writer's dream!
Nice interview!