Interview with YA author B. Lynn Goodwin

Novelist B. Lynn Goodwin is chatting with me about her new coming of age novel, Disrupted.

Lynn is doing a virtual book tour with WOW! Women on Writing’s blog The Muffin. Feel free to visit her other stops!

Bio:
B. Lynn Goodwin wrote two award-winning books, a YA called Talent, and a memoir titled Never Too Late: From Wannabe to Wife at 62. Her newest book, Disrupted, came out on January 25^th. She writes author interviews, book reviews and articles for WriterAdvice, www.writeradvice.com, for Story Circle Network, where she also teaches, and other places. She is on the boards of Story Circle Network and the Women’s National Book Association—NorCal and is a writing contest judge. She edits every genre except poetry, and loves helping writers improve.

Welcome, Lynn. Please tell us about your current release.
When a 7.1 earthquake erupts at the beginning of Disrupted, classes and activities are canceled at Sandee Mason’s high school. She now faces two earthquakes: this physical one and her brother’s being blown up by and IED six months earlier. How will she cope with the fall play she was stage managing being canceled, her best friend moving away, and a new boy breaking more promises than he keeps? Great book for anyone who’s ever lost a sibling or an opportunity.

What inspired you to write this book?
I was inspired by memories of teens who went through all kinds of earthquakes during your average high school week as well as my memories of the Loma Prieta Earthquake back in 1989. I used to teach English and drama in high school and college, and the needs and wants of my students stayed with me, enhanced by events from my imagination.

Excerpt from Disrupted:
The cast drifted in, a few at a time, and I would have felt self-conscious, but nobody paid any attention except Tony, who looked smaller than ever from here. “You need a man’s help with that?” he asked.

Nicole rolled her eyes while I said, “If I see a man, I’ll ask him.”

“Zero tolerance for bullying,” he muttered.

I ignored him. Cast members took off their jackets and grabbed one last look at the script. Jenn stood by the piano pontificating about something. The ladder swayed, rocking on its four aluminum feet. A structural beam behind the lights loomed closer and closer to my head. I looked down and saw Ms. G gripping the edge of her desk. Actors screamed as they crammed together in doorways and under the proscenium arch.

The whole room shook, and a couple of chairs skittered across the stage. I swung away from the lights, gripping the ladder rails, and screaming louder than when I saw Camo Jacket and went postal. I rolled back and forth, pleading with a God I wasn’t sure I believed in, while the ladder swayed further and further.

“The whole school is sliding off its rocker,” Tony called out. My wrench clunked down one step after another adding percussion to the chaos.

“Bri? Diego? HELP!” I screamed as I headed for the beam again. The next thing I knew, Ms. G was gripping the side opposite Nicole. I came close enough to see one light vibrating against the pipe it was mounted on. The other had dropped straight down again, spotlighting the floor. “Help!” I called out again. The clamor in my head was thunderous. Had a terrorist exploded a bomb?

Ms. G sounded far away as she called out, “Hold on, Sandee.” Someone clinging to the proscenium arch chanted, “Sandee, Sandee,” and the people around her took up the cry. With Ms. G, Nicole, Bradley, and Tony all steadying the aluminum monstrosity, its rocking slowed. My heart pounded anyway, beating like one of Diego’s drum solos. Breathlessly, I gasped, coughed, and gasped again.

A minute later, Dr. Henderson’s voice came over the loudspeaker. “All students exit the buildings immediately. Now.” He steadied his voice. “Go to the front parking lot and check in with any teacher holding an attendance iPad, even if you are with a teacher right now. If you have permission on file to leave campus, go home. If not, wait outside for your parents to pick you up. Outside. I repeat…”

“You heard Dr. Henderson. Everybody out,” Ms. G said. Below me, the actors who weren’t still shaking picked up their jackets and backpacks. From the top of the ladder, I watched, feeling like some celestial creature. “Go directly to the parking lot in front of the school. Sandee, come on down now.” Ms. G’s voice shook just like Henderson’s.

I lifted my foot. Nothing happened. “Can’t,” I whispered. The soles of my shoes wouldn’t budge.

“You can do it, Sandee,” Nicole insisted. “Tell that to these feet.”

“Can you move your hands?” Nicole asked.

I slid the right one down about an inch. Then I did the same thing with the left one.

“Now try your feet,” Ms. G said.

Every nerve shook and a cold wind passed by me as I peeled my foot off the rung.

Foot.
Foot.
Hand.
Hand.

The soles of my shoes shot tingles into my feet each time they made contact with a rung. When I got to the bottom, Nicole put a hand on my arm to steady me.

“Good job, Sandee.” Ms. G’s voice cracked again. Had she lived in California during the Loma Prieta earthquake? Dad told Bri and me it closed the Bay Bridge and shut down the World Series. I wondered if Ms. G was as old as my dad.

Tremors ran up and down my legs and spine and neck. A throbbing pain pressed behind my eyes, making my head spin. The ground tingled through my Topsiders again, and I imagined the dirt and roots and maybe even bones buried beneath the cement. Hadn’t this land once belonged to Ohlone Indians? Were any of them buried under the school?

What exciting story are you working on next?
Right now, I’m working on Writer Advice, www.writeradvice.com, book reviews, and this blog tour. I have a romance in which a Ukranian refugee who’s done with men meets someone who could intrigue her, if they could both get past their closely guarded secrets, but it’s on the back burner at the moment.

When did you first consider yourself a writer?
Good question. Maybe I knew I could be a writer when Dramatics Magazine published a series of my articles way back in 1985. I didn’t realize that I was exactly the right person to write these articles about improvisational drama activities, which Sandee Mason described in her diary, nor did I know that Dramatics was the perfect publication for them. That experience bolstered my confidence.

Do you write full-time? If so, what’s your work day like? If not, what do you do other than write and how do you find time to write?
Although I am technically retired, I write and/or edit and/or read for book reviews 6-7 days per week. On a day without interruptions, I might read in the morning when the sunlight comes into my office, write in my journal, respond to e-mails asking for editing help or inquiring about my work, do some editing, and lace that with other writing tasks the day brings to me. I try to keep myself inspired by having some variety in my routine.

What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?
I often feel like I channel the characters I like. My background as a drama and English teacher has given me some character-building tools that other writers may not have, though they probably know things I don’t.

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?
One day I was about five, I flashed on the idea of being a writer. I thought I could go to the mailbox and pull checks out—maybe because my first books arrived in the mail. I also thought about being a teacher, so I’m lucky to have done both.

Anything additional you want to share with the readers?
Write the story that only you can tell, take a look at Disrupted for yourself or someone you know, and visit us at www.writeradvice.com.

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