Apr
23
Endearing Losers [Michele Young-Stone guest blogs]
2010 at 7am Posted by Rebecca Schinsky
If you read my review earlier this week, you know that I LOVED Michele Young-Stone’s debut novel The Handbook for Lightning Strike Survivors. I had the pleasure of meeting Michele at her book launch party here in Richmond last week and thoroughly enjoyed the chance to hear her speak about the book in greater depth at Fountain Bookstore a few days ago, and I could not be happier to welcome her for this guest post today.
One of the first reviews I received for The Handbook for Lightning Strike Survivors was from Publisher’s Weekly who named my book as one of the top ten fiction debuts to watch for this spring.
The reviewer wrote “Damaged people inhabit this debut novel: people who have been struck by lightning as well as those who have lost loved ones from death, divorce, drinking or duplicity. …Young-Stone is a very fine writer who has created a host of endearing losers—young, old, literate, and simple, all full of longing.”
I love this interpretation and word choice for my characters because for a long time, I’d used words like eccentric and quirky to describe them; and really, “endearing losers” is what they are. It’s sort of where I come from. I recently gave a signed copy of my novel to my sister and I wrote, quoting a Tom Petty song, “Even the losers get lucky some time.” That’s how I feel! Like a loser who lucked out, but really it wasn’t luck. It was something I always wanted—to be a published author; to write a great story; to make people fall in love and feel things deep in their core. Another song that comes to mind is, “I was born with a plastic spoon in my mouth…”
I didn’t grow up “understood.” I was a latch-key kid. Well, that’s what you’d call me today. Back then, we didn’t lock our doors. But I was a kid who spent a lot of time alone. I can remember showing my poetry and short stories to my parents. They praised me up and down—but they actually thought I was delusional—copying stories and poems out of books! My mother didn’t reveal this to me until The Handbook for Lightning Strike Survivors finally sold in 2008.
Both of my parents had to work to make ends meet. Sometimes, my mom worked nights. We were the kind of family that consumed as much food as possible on grocery-store day. Soda was reserved for illness or birthday parties. There were months where some bills weren’t paid, but knowing the importance of a roof over one’s head, the mortgage was always paid. My sister and I never did without, but we often “made do” with less. We wore hand-me-downs or dresses my mother made. When we vacationed, we camped. We were lucky to vacation!
Flash forward: All my life, I dreamed of writing a novel. For the longest time, I had this picture of what a writer was, and it wasn’t me. I was fat with bucked teeth and frizzy hair. I was an endearing loser. As I got older, I learned that experience is a large part of being a writer. Being an endearing loser has its’ perks. I love my characters so dearly. I know where they come from. I’ve been there or I can imagine being there. I live with these folks, my characters, and I love every one of them. I hope it shows. They inhabit my head awake and sleeping. They’re walking around my office, or if I’m lucky enough to be writing at the beach, they’re there with me. Here’s to damaged people and endearing losers—the best kinds of folks!
Michele included these two photos from her childhood for me to share with you.
And here’s one of us together at her launch party at Gallery 5 in downtown Richmond.
Thanks again, Michele, and congratulations on the well-deserved acclaim for The Handbook for Lightning Strike Survivors.
Visit Michele’s website and check out her blog to learn more.
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One of the first reviews I received for The Handbook for Lightning Strike Survivors was from Publisher’s Weekly who named my book as one of the top ten fiction debuts to watch for this spring.
The reviewer wrote “Damaged people inhabit this debut novel: people who have been struck by lightning as well as those who have lost loved ones from death, divorce, drinking or duplicity. …Young-Stone is a very fine writer who has created a host of endearing losers—young, old, literate, and simple, all full of longing.”
I love this interpretation and word choice for my characters because for a long time, I’d used words like eccentric and quirky to describe them; and really, “endearing losers” is what they are. It’s sort of where I come from. I recently gave a signed copy of my novel to my sister and I wrote, quoting a Tom Petty song, “Even the losers get lucky some time.” That’s how I feel! Like a loser who lucked out, but really it wasn’t luck. It was something I always wanted—to be a published author; to write a great story; to make people fall in love and feel things deep in their core. Another song that comes to mind is, “I was born with a plastic spoon in my mouth…”
I didn’t grow up “understood.” I was a latch-key kid. Well, that’s what you’d call me today. Back then, we didn’t lock our doors. But I was a kid who spent a lot of time alone. I can remember showing my poetry and short stories to my parents. They praised me up and down—but they actually thought I was delusional—copying stories and poems out of books! My mother didn’t reveal this to me until The Handbook for Lightning Strike Survivors finally sold in 2008.
Both of my parents had to work to make ends meet. Sometimes, my mom worked nights. We were the kind of family that consumed as much food as possible on grocery-store day. Soda was reserved for illness or birthday parties. There were months where some bills weren’t paid, but knowing the importance of a roof over one’s head, the mortgage was always paid. My sister and I never did without, but we often “made do” with less. We wore hand-me-downs or dresses my mother made. When we vacationed, we camped. We were lucky to vacation!
Flash forward: All my life, I dreamed of writing a novel. For the longest time, I had this picture of what a writer was, and it wasn’t me. I was fat with bucked teeth and frizzy hair. I was an endearing loser. As I got older, I learned that experience is a large part of being a writer. Being an endearing loser has its’ perks. I love my characters so dearly. I know where they come from. I’ve been there or I can imagine being there. I live with these folks, my characters, and I love every one of them. I hope it shows. They inhabit my head awake and sleeping. They’re walking around my office, or if I’m lucky enough to be writing at the beach, they’re there with me. Here’s to damaged people and endearing losers—the best kinds of folks!





















