It’s true, Carla Salvo’s “Just Say the Word” will be available on Kindle this Sunday. Special $2.99 introductory Kindle price. And don’t forget to get on her mailing list! Email her at: carla@andantepublishing.com and we’ll keep you up to date. We appreciate the book club invitations. Carla always enjoys meeting new people. If your book club or organization would like to hear from Carla Salvo let her know at: carla@andantepublishing.com

People assume that I’ve always aspired to be a writer and ask how I get ideas for character development when I was writing Just Say the Word.  I’m an artist by desire and education, but discovered that writing delivers the same high as creating artwork. I was hooked! The characters? I sadly admit to being middle-aged, but with that wistful statement, comes decades of characters. Some stay, some waltz through my life. Think about all the people you’ve met in your lifetime.  If you aspire to write and feel as though you get “writer’s block” when developing your characters and story, dig into your head and pull a character out of your past. If there is not a character when your fingers touch the keyboard: well, maybe you’ll discover a good line, a trashy line, or a change in story direction. It becomes an adventure, not work. Thank you for your support of my writing, and hope to see you at my next event.

Good morning!  Thank you for all of your support during my first year as a published author. Many of you have been asking about the sequel  to “Just Say the Word…” I actually refer to this new work as a prequel-sequel as it stands alone as a new novel.  The title is “The Dutchmen’s Son.” Yes, I’m working on it furiously, and hope to finish by mid-2011.  Also in the works are a series of long-short stories, novellas really!

I learned a lot about myself in the process while writing “Just Say the Word…” simply from the creative process and the overwhelming challenge writing and publishing a book is. After the first edition of  JSTW was run, I eagerly sent copies off to all my closest friends and relatives.  After a week or so, I began to get comment and feedback calls and emails.  The most interesting comments were from my very own Mom.  She liked the book (she’s a tough critic) and said she found it unusual that I had unknowingly named the father’s character the same name as my very own (departed) Dad.  I hadn’t.  In a split second, fear rushed through my mind and body: Mom was losing her memory.  She is, after all, in her 80′s, I rationalized.  I asked her if she heard  what she had just said to me out loud, and she replied yes and repeated the very same comment, “You named the Dad in your book after Daddy.” I reminded her that my father’s name is Joe and not Sal as in the novel.  For the third time, she repeated her sentence slowly, as if I were a child.  I took a deep breath, but before I could speak again, Mom stated, “Honey,  your Dad’s birth certificate shows his name as Salvatore.”  I was astounded.  I had never known that of my very own father!  When I asked her why she had never shared this with me, she shrugged it, deciding that I wouldn’t think it important.  Another Mom making a decision for her daughter.  It seems that when my Dad was born, he was named for both his father and grandfather, both name Salvatore.  In an effort to keep the confusion to a minimum, my paternal grandmother began to call her new infant Joe.  Joe grew up identifying himself as such.  When he applied for a Social Security card (in the 1920′s), he used the name Joseph.  When he enlisted in the Army to serve in World War II, he signed as Joseph.  And true to form, his gravestone shows the same beautiful name, the name of a[nother] revered saint!  I wanted to be angry with my mother for not sharing that bit of family history, but in her innocence, she really didn’t think it would have been important.  Not important, but kinda “trippy”, if you ask me.

I don’t hope to stumble across another fun tidbit in my new writing, but as I write, I can’t help but wonder if maybe I already have……

Almost everyone I know has some type collection, even if it’s an unconscious effort.  Mine is vintage shoes.  For me, they are an Art form and it ranks high on my list along vintage cars, a collection of which I cannot afford but would love to have.  I wear my vintage shoes carefully and rarely on the pavement.  They make up at least half of the fifty or so pair of shoes that I own.  Some of my friends jokingly call me Imelda Marcos, although I will never come close to the number of shoes she owned, compliments of her oppressed subjects!  Once in a while, I take them all out of the closet to clean and admire them.  It’s a silly but fun pastime, one that distracts me from the fierce economic storm that rages outside.

The way I look at my shoe collection recently changed in a big way.  I now fuss over them with a whole new perspective and appreciation.  One evening I arrived home weary, disillusioned and pessimistic.  I had stopped at the store on the way and carried a single bag of groceries that totaled over thirty-seven dollars.  Not a loaded grocery bag, mind you.  After greeting, feeding and fussing over my two feline children and plunked down on the sofa to watch the nightly news.  While shuffling through my daily mail, I vacantly listened to the TV until a report from New York appeared.  Ah, New York!  Rockefeller Center at Christmas, I thought.  The report was about letters to Santa Claus and my mind drifted to the adolescent Natalie Wood in the movie Miracle on 34^th Street. Now that caught my interest: kid’s letters to Santa.  Bring it on!

A pleasant looking man, a postmaster was being interviewed.  His thick Queens accent warmed my east coast heart.  Mr. Postmaster explained that record numbers of letters for Mr. Claus had been received at his post office and throughout the city.  Almost forty per cent were from parents this year!  Natalie Wood skipping to mail her letter to Kris Kringle faded from my mind’s eye.  The broadcast continued with the reading of several letters.  Rather than asking for the Toy du Jour, kids were asking for clothes and shoes and help for their parents.  Mothers were asking for food and shoes for their kids.  I felt my gut wrenching inside.  One child, the oldest in her family, listed her three siblings’ names and ages, right down to the eighteen-month old baby.  Each and every request was for shoes and coats, and she had carefully listed their sizes.  She closed the letter by saying “maybe a little bit of toys, but only if you can”.

The times. they are a-changing.  Our children are becoming adults too soon.  There are too many of them being robbed of a carefree holiday and visions of sugarplums dancing in their heads.  In some ways, these kids are like children of war: fighting for just the essentials, asking favors for their loved ones first.  A bit guiltily, I felt like a queen in my castle-rambler, tucked away in a treed cul de sac.  I was one of five siblings, but my working class Mom and Dad always found a way to make our Christmas dreams come true.  Mom used to say she had to “rob Peter to pay Paul” sometimes, but that it all worked out in the end.  The times, they are a-changing.

I cried at the end of that news report.  I may not have a penny left when I pay my bills, but I have a house and a car, and my car has a house (the garage).  Gratefully, I have not been able to put that news broadcast out of my mind.  My family and friends have taken on a renewed value for me.  A worn-out adage: be grateful for what you have and stop grumbling about what you don’t.

I plan to start a new collection: kid’s clothes and shoes.  And not just during the holidays.  Oh yes.  The times, they are a-changing.

I appreciate all of you who came to my book signing on Sunday!  Just Say the Word was such a labor of love for me, it’s so nice to see it being read and it’s so nice to see your smiling faces in the audience when I’m speaking.  Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Carla