This page copyright 2008 by Aimée and David Thurlo.The Adobe Gate Winter 2008 / Volume #17 / Corrales, New Mexico
by Aimée and David Thurlo
THE LIFE OF AN AUTHOR
People are always asking us about the life of an author, or in our case, authors. We thought we’d tell you a bit about that.
Our top priority day in and day out is the page count. When we’re working on a book, we have to do a certain number of pages per day - that includes holidays and weekends. That pacing insures we maintain the flow, keep the details straight in our minds, and also guarantees we'll meet our deadlines.
Our way of writing involves doing four drafts. From second draft on, there's more content there that hopefully can remain unchanged, so we increase the number of pages we do. For example, with first draft we're working from an outline, but there's nothing on the computer screen to start with, so we limit our work to 12 pages a day. Months later, our last draft is a careful read-through to edit out any mistakes and change a word now and then. That draft results in an effort of 40 pages a day.
The page count is our first priority, but writing is also a business. So, like it is in any office, things are always happening. In addition to the actual writing we also have galleys to read through, revisions to do, book signings, and appearances. That’s when things become complicated and the page count becomes tougher to meet.
A galley is really a page proof of what the book will look like. Closer to publication, they're often bound and look more like the finished book. Reading the galley is the author's last chance of correcting typos and such, but one time the wrong draft of a book was sent in. On a pass-through where we should have only been correcting typos, we were doing a major revision– cutting scenes, adding others, and we had less than 24 hours to complete this. Since reading a galley is usually a breeze, we’d let it go till the last minute. Now it was super crunch time.
Somehow that job got done and sent in, but by then we’d done nothing else that day - meaning no page count on the next novel - so that meant we had even more pages to do. By the time all the work was caught up, we were both exhausted, so we treated ourselves to a mocha capuccino at our favorite coffee house. (I know that this sounds like it wouldn’t help anyone’s nerves, but this particularly drink tastes like a milk shake.)
The next day was the deadline to submit our proposal for the next Ella Clah, the book we’re currently working on now - the one you’ll be reading in 2009. David got the overnight packet together, and then went to the garage to back out the car. But the garage door refused to open. Then David noticed that one of the big springs had snapped in two.
Working together, we were eventually able to physically lift up the metal, double door and back out the car, but then we were reluctant to close it again. Unfortunately we have four large dogs that take that route through the garage to get outside, so we had to get it fixed. But no matter who we called, they didn’t have a spring for our 1972 era door. Finally someone said they had one that fit the measurements we gave of the unbroken one. David drove halfway across Albuquerque, the woman took one look at the broken one, and said they stopped stocking those years ago. David kept his cool, barely.
After another hour of calls, we found someone who said they might have the right one. At four-thirty in the afternoon, the guy showed up, and sure enough, he had two of them. The springs were replaced in fifteen minutes, and finally the dogs could get out back on their own. The proposal, by the way, got mailed out just in time!
Later that evening we got an e-mail from a former student of David’s, a woman who was now the executive officer on a Navy ship - some kind of amphibious support vessel big enough to have a small library. She'd found one of our Ella Clah novels in the ship's collection and realized that David had been her science teacher before she entered the Naval Academy. She was writing to tell us how much she'd enjoyed the book - and could we send them the next in the series? The letter made our day, and we sent the books off immediately.
All in all, writing requires incredible discipline. The page count has to be done. It doesn’t matter if it's three in the morning. The problem is that temptations come on a daily basis. A friend will call and want to get together for lunch, or a family comes through New Mexico and wants to drop by. That’s when it really gets tough. You have to be able to stick to the work. And to do that, you have to LOVE what you do, otherwise it becomes an impossible burden.
We've been blessed to be able to bring you the books you love to read and we love to write. David and I have been married for many years - thirty eight to be exact - and we have some very different ways of working. For example, our offices are totally different. Think of the Odd Couple - that's us. David's office is pristine - mine's a train wreck, though I know where everything is! Cough. Well, sort of. There are dogs lying down and playing in it, and dog toys scattered all over the floor. It's chaotic, decorated in lavender and blue, and I love it. We'll try to include photos of both our offices in the next issue of the Adobe Gate.
Until then, we leave you with a special recipe. This is a favorite guilty pleasure of ours.
Cookies a la New Mexico
1 cup of butter
1/2 cup powdered sugar
2 1/4 cups sifted flour
1/4 tsp. salt
1 tsp. vanilla
3/4 cup chopped nuts (piñons or walnuts work really well)
1/2 cup confectioners sugarForm into one inch balls, bake 14- 17 minutes at 400. While hot, roll in powdered sugar. Cool (if you can) then roll in sugar again.
To read the previous issues of Adobe Gate, click here or here