Four Musketeers

by Annette Lyon

Last month I talked about how the nature of our collaboration is one thing that made the Newport Ladies project work. I also mentioned in passing that the other thing was who my collaborators were.

This post answers that second part of the equation. It's adapted from a post that originally appeared on my personal blog June 2010, shortly after the concept of the Newport Ladies Book Club was born but before we began heavy work on it.

Four Musketeers

When I was a kid, friendship meant playing house, roaming the neighborhood, doing bake sales, being invited to one another's parties. When my best friend didn't invite me to a Christmas party, saying she was told to invite other friends, and then I saw them come caroling to my house? Yeah, it nearly killed that little nine-year-old in me.

As a high schooler, friendship was defined largely by who accepted me into their group. For the most part, that meant friends I hung out with on weekends. They're the ones I shared all of the high school drama with (of which there was much), the ones I always, always worried would nudge me out of the inner circle because they'd figure out that I wasn't cool enough and didn't belong.

During that time, I had an intense sense of loyalty and always supported my friends, whether it was in a performance, recital, birthday, or even for a competition in another city. (They were freakishly talented, so that was quite the commitment.) I gave and gave and gave. Then I got horribly confused when that kind of support was never reciprocated.

I remember a dress rehearsal in the school auditorium for a dance concert I was in. A couple of "best friends" were at the school at the exact same time, in the same wing of the school. They knew I was about to go on stage. I'd learned enough by this point to not expect them to come to the concert itself, but I was hurt when they didn't bother to even peek in the door to at least see the dress rehearsal of one number. They were right in the hall. All it would have taken was turning a door knob.

This kind of thing happened a lot. I'm a very slow learner. They meant well, and I'm sure they didn't realize their actions (or lack thereof) hurt. They probably had a better sense of what over commitment means than I did.

And yet.

Eventually, near the end of my senior year, there was some big seminary thing. I think there was a slide show or some such, and in the background was the classic Mormon pop song that goes, "Be that friend, be that kind, that you hope you might find. And you'll always have a best friend, come what may."

Yeah, right, I thought.

It was the first time I'd admitted to myself that no matter how hard you work on being a good friend, you can't control someone else. You can't make them be friends back in the way you'd want them to. The way, frankly, I needed them to.

So I sat in the back of the room and bawled, knowing that the lyrics were a load of garbage. I was the best friend I could possibly be, but I'd been kicked around over the years.

Much of the time, I didn't know if I had a group I belonged to, let alone a best friend. (People who knew me then would be surprised to hear all this, I'm sure. I hid the angst well.)

I left the room not knowing what friendship really meant.

Things only got worse when I was the second of our group to get married. There's been a lot of finger-pointing since about the period immediately following my wedding, but the upshot is that, for whatever reason, I was clearly no longer part of that circle. There was a big disconnect between me and them until the others married and had kids. That's when we finally had common ground again (we could share potty-training war stories).

However, I had one friend who remained single. She never stopped talking to me just because I had a ring on my left finger. I don't recall her ever acting weird after the wedding or after I became a mom. She never changed. She was my tender mercy (and was in high school more than once, and has been a several times since).

The next deep friend connection I had was several years later. I served in a Young Women presidency where I bonded with the other presidency members in a remarkable way. After our release, we stayed close. But when the former president was moving away and I said good-bye, I walked home hyperventilating with wracking sobs. I knew that such a friendship was rare and priceless, and that as much as we cared about each another, we'd never have the same relationship after she left the state. We don't.

I've had other dear friendships, many that span years. Today, my critique group is made up of people I consider some of my dearest friends, including that rare occurrence, the male friend. I am lucky enough to have two of them, and they're both like awesome extra brothers. I have another friend  I've been close to since we lived next door as newlyweds.

For me, the definitions of friendship have continued to undergo many iterations over the years.

My current view includes all of this and more:

• A true friend might not be a buddy who has known you most of your life.
• Someone who is nice 95% of the time but manages to twist a knife say, annually, is not a friend.
• You can live in the same area for years but never truly be friends with neighbors, even if everyone is friendly and gets along. (Friendly does not equate friendship.)
• You must earn the label of friend.
• If someone who uses that label is really a friend of convenience, he or she might stab you in the back or climb over you to get what they want.
• I tend to be way too real for a lot of people, which has caused me no end of trouble, and has likely lost me some shallower friends. True friends like me, warts and all. (I have lots of warts.)
• I have a  difficult time making friends, largely because I'm shy but don't look like it. I've been called "stuck-up" many painful times. The reality is that I don't ever feel superior to someone; I almost always feel inferior and unable to introduce myself or open up. 
• The most surprising element of friendship of late: I can love (and be loved in return) by women I've never met, thanks to blogging. (You know who you all are. You truly enrich my life. I've had the joy of meeting some of these friends in person recently. A joy.)

The point of all this (I swear, there is one):

I am more and more grateful for three special women who are true friends. We've known one another a varying number of years, but less then a decade in every case. We're separated geographically (we're all in the same state, but in some cases, hours away from one another). Each one has walked a different path with me, shared things unique to them and our friendships.

Yet the four of us as a group are close in a way that almost defies logic.

These women lift me. They encourage me. If I'm having an off day, they don't get offended. Instead, they come to see what they can do to help. They offer support and love and understanding. Often, as a group.

They're never more than a phone call or an e-mail (or a text or a tweet) away. They provide listening ears. They give needed hugs. They make me smile and laugh. And because we're all in the same "weird" industry, they understand me, the way I think, and my feelings, in a way few can. Sometimes, just hanging out and laughing together is enough to lighten my load, because of who they are and what they represent:

True Friends.

Because the truth is, they know me (frighteningly well), and that means they're starkly aware of all those warts that often turn others away.

But they love me anyway.

Of late, I've found myself regularly saying prayers of gratitude for Josi, Julie, and Heather.

I love you guys. Thank you for who you are, what you represent, what you've been to me, what you continue to give me, and for what you put up with. I really don't know what I'd do without you.

Pictures from ATHENA Book Launch!

What a great night. We had the ATHENA launch at the Fort Union Deseret Book, which is the bookstore that has hosted all of the Newport Ladies Book Club launches. Josi wasn't able to come since she had booked a trip to see the Balloon Fiesta in Albuquerque. (If you've read her mystery novel Tres Leches Cupcakes, you'll know the connection.)

Here are the pictures!

 We all signed a collection of books (Josi did beforehand), and 3 sets were given away as prizes.

Because the Fort Union store agreed to let us have the launch on Oct 6, which is their semi-annual Ladies Night, the publisher had to send the book to press a month early. Copies are only available at this store until the official release month of November.

Our official launch picture--everyone holding ATHENA! (Heather, Julie, Annette)

Now we are holding the entire set! And just FYI, this first set of 4 covers the first 4 months of book club for Olivia, Daisy, Paige & Athena. The next set of 4 will cover the next 4 months and will contain Ilana, Ruby, Shannon & Victoria's stories.

 It was great talking to readers. This is Diony George's mom visiting from Alaska.

I think people who love books are always drawn to each other.

Not sure how I feel about this one. My girls stopped to visit (Rose on left, Dana on right, who I dedicated ATHENA to) . . . but then Julie sneaked in and posed behind us.

Author Lisa Mangum was there for Ladies Night as well, signing her new YA love story, AFTER HELLO. (Annette, Julie, Heather, Lisa)

Notice the tin of baklava on the table (from my mom). In ATHENA, her mom is a great cook and one of Athena's favorite desserts is her mom's baklava. Recipe is at the back of the book.

And finally, photographer Heather Gardner took this lovely picture. She has come to our launches and several of my other book signings.

It was a great night and we're grateful for everyone's support and enthusiasm for this series! It wouldn't be successful without our readers!

Winner of ATHENA Launch Contest!

Thanks to all who helped spread the word about the ATHENA launch (which is today, Saturday, 6-8 p.m. at the Fort Union Deseret Book).

Since I dedicated ATHENA to my daughter, Dana, I let her draw the name!

I laughed when I saw that it was Rachel Williamson DeVaughn, because she did technically have the most entries, so I guess the odds really were in her favor.

Congrats Rachel!

Spread the Love Contest!

ATHENA's release date is November, but readers will get a change to buy an early copy at the October 6th Book Launch!

The book launch is at the same store where we held the others: Fort Union Deseret Book. 6:00-8:00 during their Ladies Night celebration, so there will be other authors/artists there, refreshments, and lots of fun.

We're holding another spread-the-love contest, and the winner gets the following from Heather Moore:

• The e-book of A Timeless Romance Anthology: Winter Collection
• Paperback copy of Daughters of Jared
• Hard cover of Christ's Gifts to Women

How to enter:

  Each day from now until Friday, October 5th, share the information about the launch, whether in your own words or with a link to this post.

  Do so on Facebook, Twitter, Google +, or on your personal blog. Each time you mention it, let us know either in a comment here or by emailing Heather: heather (at) hbmoore (dot) com, so we can track the numbers. If you tweet about the launch, be sure to use the hash tag #AthenaLaunch (that'll get you an extra entry). The hash tag will help us track entries!

  Each social media mention is worth one entry (two if it's Twitter and the hash tag is used). A blog post with all the relevant detail and a link back here is worth FIVE entries.

  So help us spread the word, and then on October, please come to the Fort Union Deseret Book! Three of the four Newport Ladies authors will be there (Josi will be out of town).

What's in a Name: Daisy

By Josi 

          One of the fun things about being a fiction writer, and creating characters, is that you get to name them. I have four kids, and I lost every name-decision my husband and I had with them. Lost might be the wrong word, since I like all their names, but they were names my husband and I agreed on, not necessarily either of our favorites. 

           When I was expecting my fourth child—also my last—I had two favorite names: Esther and Daisy. My husband made a face at both of them. He thought Esther sounded old and Daisy sounded air-headed. I was, of course, offended, then he said his name of choice was Charlemagne and I knew he’d lost it (no offense to any Esthers, Daisys, or Charlemagnes out there.) My next suggestion was Keeley, but Keeley Kilpack had a weird ring to it. We both liked Kylee, however, and so that became our baby’s name. It’s a perfect name for her and neither of us cringe when we say it, so it was a good choice.

            When Annette, Heather, Julie and I were discussing characters for this series, I threw out the idea of Daisy and then braced myself for compaints—since my husband hadn’t liked it—but to my surprise they were all good with it. So, her name was Daisy and she's not an air-head. Originally Daisy's character was suffering from an eating disorder, but as I further developed her that didn’t stick very well. I kept playing with ideas and then came up with the idea of her being in her forties, excited for her last daughter to leave home, feeling like everything was going as planned, and then facing an unplanned pregnancy. THAT story idea took off for me and the story unfolded rather quickly from that point forward.

           AND, I got to use Daisy in a book. Maybe one day I'll use Esther too (though Heather Moore is beating me to that point right now as she writes the story of Esther). I will likely not use Charlemagne, however. :-)

How the Collaboration Worked

by Annette Lyon

I cannot count the number of people who have learned about the Newport Ladies Book Club and then come to me asking how in the world I can collaborate on a project of this magnitude . . . and still love my cowriters. Some of these people have worked on collaborations that have caused them to want to pull their hair out, and, in some cases, they've lost friendships over collaborations.

The answer, for me, comes down to (1) how the project worked (2) who my cowriters are. Those two things have made the project not only not frustrating, but an absolute joy.

Today, I'm talking about how the writing the series worked in the first place.

How Writing the Newport Books Worked

If we'd tried to write one book by four people, I doubt it would have worked out too well. That's too many fingers in the pot, too many opinions and points of view.

But that's not what happened. We have four distinct books with four distinct voices. No one told me what I had to write or boxed me in, choosing my character and plot for me.

Instead, as we brainstormed together, we each came up with a character we were excited about fleshing out, a woman with a specific problem we each thought would be interesting to delve into and pick apart.

Once we had our main characters and their primary conflicts, we had to figure out how each character's story intersected with every other character's, because without that element, we wouldn't hit the target of what we were trying to accomplish.

One of the next things to choose was the books the club reads, and then each of us was assigned to do the primary writing for one of the book club scenes. Those scenes were then forwarded to the others, and we'd rewrite them completely from our character's point of view, often adding details another character wouldn't know, or cutting details that didn't matter as much to our character's story.

The same went for any shared scenes. No spoilers, but to give you an idea: there are scenes between just Daisy and Paige, ones between Paige and Athena, and Paige and Olivia. Sometimes I wrote the scene first and passed it on to the person writing the other character. Sometimes the other person did, and I rewrote it from Paige's point of view. It worked so seamlessly that I've pretty much forgotten which scenes I didn't draft first.

As we fleshed out the stories and wrote more, we found additional things to nail down, like where each character and minor character lived. Heather was particularly helpful with that, as she's lived in the general Newport area, so we as stared at maps, she could point out where Paige would be able to afford an apartment, and maybe where her in-laws lived, how far away Ruby (the founder of the club) lived from each character, and so on.

We tried to get together about once a month to coordinate stories and do marathon writing sessions. Part of this was because we were all working on other projects as well, and the Newport books were "play time." When we got together, we could set aside other projects and focus just on these books.

Josi near the end of a writing day, after our

late lunch/early dinner, writing Daisy at a hotel.

A typical marathon writing day/weekend looked like this:
-Meet at a Utah County library as soon as it opened (the most central location for us).

-If possible, get a study room, where we could talk and hash things out instead of having to be silent.

-Write like mad, with breaks to spitball and ask questions (if we were in a room), until about 3PM.

-Break for a late lunch/early dinner at a local restaurant. (Most commonly, Zupas or Olive Garden.)

-Those who could stay overnight then checked into a local motel and brought along snacks to last us the night. We changed into pajamas and wrote, wrote, wrote, until we were bleary-eyed and brain dead, usually around midnight. Sometimes not all of us could stay the night, but often those who couldn't still came to the hotel to write in the room for a few hours.

-Wake up around 7AM and write like crazy until it's time to pack up and check out.


Heading off to write after the kids were in school on Friday and then coming home by noon the next day, proved to be a way of getting time to work on the project with my coauthors with relatively minimal impact on my family. (A must.)

During our writing days, we'd often lift our heads from our keyboards and ask things like, "What kind of car does Daisy drive again?" and, "Where does Paige's ex live?" We Googled constantly to learn about all kinds of things, like Greek Orthodox funerals. We found a website with the exact church to use. I used Google Earth to see, up close, the bookstore Paige finds the book club flier in. And so on.

Once, when Josi and I were in the room alone briefly, she said that the storyline for Daisy would work out better if Olivia's mom was dead, and if Olivia had stepchildren and was a grandmother. I agreed, and then we both hunkered down to write more.

That day, Julie was in the middle of finishing another writing project, so while she was with us, she wasn't working on Olivia quite yet. After the conversation Josi and I had, Julie came into the room, and we informed her that oh, by the way, Olivia's mom is dead. Hope that's okay. And she's got stepkids and grandkids.

Julie got a deer-in-the-headlights look for a second, but as she pondered the idea, it grew on her. Next thing we knew, she'd written a story that not only included those things but hinged on them. And, of course, Olivia turned out to be a totally awesome book.

Julie working on Olivia at the hotel.

I think one reason the process worked so well is that we uncovered a different way to write. We've all been doing this for a long time; it's easy to fall into a rut. But this was fresh and challenging in a new way. We genuinely enjoyed the process and were excited about the books, and I think that excitement and passion shows in the final products.

Personally, working in other people's characters and scenes into my own book was a different kind of challenge, and one that was a blast and which stretched me as a writer.

I can say without question that this project has been a highlight of my writing career, and one I'm so grateful to have been part of. It's been a blessing to me in many ways, not the least of which is discovering just how amazing my writing friends are.

The Glory of Womanhood

By Julie Wright
Today is one of those "I don't know how I feel about today" days. I have owned and operated a little store in west central Utah for fourteen years. I have counted out pennies over the counter for children and then watched those children grow up so I could count out pennies for their children. Today it is all over. We closed our doors for the last time.

But though I'm in the middle of all the emotions of such an event, that isn't what this post is about.
This post is about all the women in this town.

Yesterday, one of my neighbors who has a very sick husband with MS, came over to help us get things settled. Not because she had to, not because she gained anything by it, but because she knew we needed help, and even in the midst of her own trials, she is looking to help someone else bear theirs.

I have spent years living in the shadows of these sorts of women--the kind who show up in their pajamas on my doorstep at nearly midnight because I can't figure out how to use a pressure canner and had started an overwhelming project in the middle of the night and needed someone to bail me out.

These are the women who have helped take care of my children, made me laugh, and shown up just to tell me they care on days when I believed no one cared.

These are the women who taught me about heaven reminders.

Something I wanted to convey more than anything through the Newport Ladies Book Club series was how much we need each other.

A woman I know and admire used to have a quote in her email signature line that said, "Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle." I think it's some version of a quote from Plato.

But the words are true.

We size each other up when we first meet. We make judgements, wrong or accurate--it doesn't matter--the judgements get made.

Yet all of us have our internal pain, our days when things aren't great, times when we feel like we're dying a little more every single day.

Sometimes it's something small that saves us.

This might sound dumb to some of you, but I am going to share a true story.

I was working in my little store about two years ago. So many things were so wrong in my life. The store struggled so much financially. Every penny I made as an author and that my husband made at his job went to keep the store going a little while longer. But my writing life had its fair share of blips too. And I had just become a cripple due to an injury I couldn't have fixed. I was in the midst of a whole lot of bad days. No one knew how bad things were for me emotionally. I didn't tell anyone. I was so severely depressed that I really, truly cannot describe the darkness of my thoughts.

I had a breakdown and took a moment where I had it out with God. I'm not saying this is good or bad--it's just what I did.

I told him he had abandoned me.

And then I cried and cried and cried.

But those desperate, bitter tears only lasted five minutes, because in a literal five minutes, one of the women in my town dropped into the store to tell me she'd been worried about me and my leg and had decided to come and do some physical therapy on me.

A literal minute after that, another woman came in with some homemade jam that she'd been making when all of a sudden, she felt the need to come give me a jar because she thought I might like it. She still had her apron on. She knew, though it sounded silly (even to her), that I needed that jam urgently.

A literal minute after that, another woman came in from her daily walk. She'd been out enjoying the beautiful wildflowers in the fields and had the thought that a fresh bouquet would look nice on my counter.

Heaven reminders.

These women didn't, and still don't, know that on the day they felt the need to offer me a small kindness, a gentle extension of friendship, that they had saved me.

Sometimes God answers our prayers through other people.

When writing Olivia for the Newport Ladies, I thought a lot about those women--thought a lot about that day. I considered how strange it was that these women showed up at the critical moment when they had no clue that my life was literally crumbling in around me.

There is a glory in womanhood, a rightness that can't be found anywhere else. You hear about cat fights and mean girls, and we all know about judgement. We've all done it. We've all received it.

But our capacity for good is so intense if we're brave enough to act on it.

I was asked a couple weeks ago what I hoped people would find in the Newport series.

I hope they find compassion, for each other, for themselves. Life is not easy. Be kinder than necessary, for you have no idea but that your one smile may make all the difference to one who'd already decided to give up.

I am grateful for the women in my little town. I hate leaving them, but I am so glad they've left their mark in my heart. I'm grateful for all I've learned from them and hope to pass it on.