Christmastime in Valbonne.
Espoir
(es-pwar)
noun, masculine
hope
The following letter is an intimate look into la naissance of a certain "thrice-weekly" journal from France. This online blog began in October of 2002 following its earlier pen-and-paper beginnings—as letters that were sent via snail mail to a group of beta readers: my family and friends! For this opening story-letter, I have chosen a Wild West theme, one that seems fitting, considering my southwestern roots. Though I left the Phoenix desert half a life ago, a part of my heart forgot to board that plane to France.
In October of deux mille deux I began a website, a vitrine of sorts, for my writing. I put up a few published stories, a bio and un livre d'or, and waited beside my virtual mailbox, ginger ale in hand.
A few tumbleweeds blew past, but no publishers. My address, my website—my writing—remained in a cyber ghost town.
I continued to peddle my words, sending out queries for my stories. I did not sell many.
I thought to offer something to attract editors and publishers, and so I stepped out of my cyber-office and nailed up a sign. It read: "French Word-A-Day." I waited patiently for a customer. More tumbleweeds blew past. No publishers.
I continued to show up at the page, or keyboard, each morning and the stories collected like so many stars over a sleeping desert on a warm summer's night. As for l'espoir, I had that. Still, no publishers came.
But you did.
You must've seen the sign out front. You signed up for French words and accidentally found yourself in my French life. You must have said, "Pourquoi pas?" then pulled up a barstool, ordered a ginger ale, and settled in.
Your presence reassured me. I wrote and wrote and wrote a little more. And mostly I hoped you would not leave town when the next cyber stagecoach passed through. At least not until I figured out what it was I had to say.
Then one day you said: "Thank you for your missives," and I ran to my dictionary to look up that word. You also wrote: "Thank you for your vignettes."
"'Vignettes'! 'Vignettes'!" I giggled, doing a little square dance. I never knew what to call "it" besides an "essay" (which, I felt, was a spiffier term than "diary entry").
Many good months passed with small writing victories, and a former ghost town came to life.
But my joie was short-lived. A menace and a few mean-spirited e-mails arrived. I almost yearned for those tumbleweeds. Instead, I mentioned my soucis in a letter, and suddenly it was Showdown at the French Word-A-Day Corral! You showed up with your posse and told the bandits to get out of town. Then you turned to me and said: "Don't let the !@#& get you down!"
While others don't understand the life of a former desert rat-turned-French housewife-turned-maman and, recently, struggling écrivaine—you do.
At a shop in Draguignan, the vendeuse says: "Your name sounds familiar. What does your husband do?" I fall back into a slump, reminded that what I really am is a pantoufle-footed housewife with a backup of three loads of laundry and a sink full of dirty, mismatched assiettes.
I return home to the dirty dishes and the laundry—and to a letter from a reader, which says: "Thank you for your stories." I sit up straight, dust off my keyboard and am reminded that what I really am is a working writer—if only I will show up at the page, and write, each day.
So, thank you, dear Reader, for helping me to live my dream: for reading my—missives—and for your thoughtful words of support. Although publishers and agents may not be beating down my porte, each time I crack open the door—there you are.
In the new year, I'd like to continue with the stories, expanding the gist of this French Life. I hope you'll stay in town because I have figured out that I do, indeed, have something more to say. In fact, there is so much that I have not yet told you.
And while you know of the light-hearted, bubbly side of this expatriation, Real Life continues to rumble within my writing veins, like a rowdy, drunken saloon girl, wanting to be heard. Only I will need to slap her cheek, pour a bit of cool water over her head, take a tissue to her running mascara and tell her to have faith, that her story will be told, if she will only show up at the page.
May you, too, live your dream in the coming year.
Bien amicalement,
Kristin
la naissance = birth
.
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Update: I am reworking the intro paragraph, check it out, now, and please let me know if you have any edits. Here is the paragraph that I took out:
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Hi Slv, thanks for your helpful thoughts. Desert rat, to me, is more a term of endearment (I realize, now, I may be mistaken). That said, Ill keep your point in mind, for it is not the first time I have heard readers object to the term.
Re any hardscrabbleness, I didnt mean to dramatize my childhood. That said, how else would I describe my childhood home? A trailer is a trailer is a trailer! One of the great regrets Mom and I have… is losing ours.
Mom, glad you responded to Slv. Again, I think the issue here is my use of the word trailer that leads to the hardscrabble assumptions. I have not, to my knowledge, written that my childhood was anything but lovely.
Re grape farm, Im taking your hints 😉 VINEYARD is it — and vigneron would be what Jean-Marc is (sounds much better than grape farmer, though I have a soft spot for that term, which takes some of the snobbery out of what is sometimes regarded as an elite club or vocation).
Also, I need all of you to help me to find a replacement for desert rat. Id like to change that, while keeping the following sentence meaningful:
While others dont understand the life of a former Desert Rat (Phoenician? Other suggestions?)-turned-French housewife-turned-maman and, recently, struggling écrivaine—you do.
And, Bruce, big thanks for these helpful edits. On my way, now, to incorporate them!
Hi Kirstin; I’m the world’s worst proof reader, & it looks like you are getting plenty of help, so won’t be adding mine. It all sounds good to me.
I was taken by your comment that you think using the term grape farmer takes the snobbery out of the subject of wine. I couln’t agree more, and usually describe vignerons as farmers who grow & squish up grapes & feel passionately about their product. From what I’ve read so far that would describe your Jean-Marc.
Kristin,
I don’t have any corrections on your story. I just want to offer a word of encouragement. Your stories/vignettes are witty, funny,compassionate,colorful,full of everyday life & family values, and they are wonderful. You let us, the readers take a peek into your daily lives on the vineyard. We love it. I am in the process of writing a novel. Have the 1st five chapters done, or mostly done, every time I proofread, I make more edits. But its fun. You are a wonderful writer, you put yourself out there, and that is extremely hard to do. I just want you to know that you, your stories and your family is loved and appreciated by many, many readers. You are blessed with a God-given gift. Keep up the extraordinary work.
Much love and many many thanks,
Vickie Kent
Wasn’t it Woody Allen that often repeated the well-worn phrase “80% of work (or life) is just showing up.” Well, there you go Kristin just show up and put down your words – we are here. Yes, of course some stories are more poignant than others, but escape for the reader into a French life is still a great escape – deeply poignant or not. Sometimes just glancing at your photography is enough to warm my heart. So you GO girl!
Kristin,
I love this story and knowing how you got started. I am wondering if Christmastime is one word?? That is my only possible correction…
A bientôt,
Alison
Don’t waste time with the desert rat change, Bruce has won me over after all of the work he has just done in his post above. I am so impressed with all of the people you hang around with Kristi…don’t all mothers wish they could say that about their kids friends. I love the FWAD comments box.
XOXO
MOM
Kristin:
I love your style of writing! It is breezy and contemplative at the same time. It is you! My only comment is that when you are talking about the past, your verbs should consistently be in the past tense. Don’t ever stop writing. You bring us joy.
Denise
Love it!
Glad you left in “desert-rat” as it leaves a touch of drama within that term rather than taming too much ( just my thoughts only!!) xxoo
Kristin,
I’m a first-time commentor and I just had to chime in with ‘kudos’ to you and the efforts you are putting forth – and the courage to share it all with us devoted readers! I just shared your blog, along with your plan to self-publish in 21 days, with a ‘non-French speaking’ dear friend of mmine, Luanne. She loves reading and has always wanted to do more with her writing. She has just started to work on creating a blog for readers to share their thoughts about the books they love. I’m sure all your comments and those of the community will give her some encouragement. I know all your efforts makes me want to write and I am not a writer!
Best of luck to you – I wouldn’t know where to start in trying to incorporate some of the many helpful edits you are getting. A lot of people are pulling for you!
Bonne chance a vous!
Judi
Hi Kristin. I love your blog and am delighted to hear you are planning to develop it into a book. My only comment is that the very first sentence and heading is a little formal – especially when one of the key strengths of your writing is its sense of intimacy and warmth. I wonder whether a more casual heading such as ‘How it all started’ would have more impact than the more formal ‘Introduction’. And while I’m a “grammar nazi” in my emphasis on spelling and correct structure, i think it’s important that you retain the flow of the blog, the sense that the reader is sharing your life and thoughts.
Good luck with it all!
Hi Kristin, really nice to get a chance to read some of your old stories (as i just started reading your blog about a year ago). don’t think i can offer any input when it comes to making your writing better–it’s always so good in every way. but perhaps you wouldn’t mind my moral support. best wishes for your new endeavor. i’m sure it will be one of the best books to come out this year.
Thanks Gretel and Mom – desert rat it is!
Alison, Thanks for bringing that up. I think Christmastime is one word. Also, I do not plan on putting photos of captions with the chapters.
Jenny, great point and your suggestion solves another problem: I had wanted to include the title Espoir. Ive removed the stuffy Introduction and replaced it with Hope
Thanks, Denise! I may leave the past and present glitch alone for now. Im afraid that by going back into the story, I might create more errors in the process of fixing things. Ill keep it mind and I do realize it is a souci.
Janny and everyone who has written in: your moral support is extremely helpful to me. I feel it! Thanks.
Kristin,
From one desert rat to another, I consider you a CACTUS FLOWER… or DESERT FLOWER.
Belle Scottsdale, AZ.
Thats lovely. Thank you Belle, lautre Fleur de Cactus 🙂