At the Erma Bombeck Conference I attended last month, a humor writer said, "People just can't put my books down - mostly because they haven't picked them up."  That was too true to be funny.  I live out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, and I don't have as many opportunities as local LDS authors do for promotion of their books.  When I returned from the conference, I got a call from my nephew's mother-in-law who lives in Ohio, where the conference was held.  I had given her copies of the four books to read during her spring break from teaching.  She said she had read all four during that week, and simply "could not put them down."  Another speaker at the conference said you should always make your readers either laugh, cry or think. I thought of the quote on the back of Unfinished Business by Allen Klein, who has written some great humorous survivor books.  It says, "Your business is not finished until you've read Unfinished Business.  You'll laugh, you'll cry and you'll learn."

Meridian:  What's your take on Beverly's suffering?

Susan:  A few months after I was widowed, I was listening to a church talk on the radio about someone who had gone through terrible trials.  He'd had health problems.  As a result of the health problems, his wife had left him, taking his children. Further complications arose when he was unable to focus in the midst of these trials and lost his job.  I was starting to feel better about the trials I was facing as a young widow alone with a child to raise.  At least there were some areas of my life with stability.  Then I heard these words:  "But he never complained."  Instead of relief that someone else had survived something more difficult than what I was facing, I had an immediate feeling that I wasn't "doing it right."  I had complained.  I was angry at God from time to time.

I began to talk back to the radio.  "He never complained? Why not?  Was he struck deaf and dumb, too?"  (Beverly dares to say things like that in person, not just talking back to the radio.)  "Is he in denial?  Were you with him 24 hours a day?  Then how do you know he didn't complain?  Can you read minds?"

In giving us an ideal to live up to, sometimes we skip past the hard stuff and go right to the acceptance, or maybe there really are people out there who are so good that they don't go through that process like the rest of us mere mortals.  I write for the imperfect people who struggle, mainly because I am one of them. 

Meridian:  It's starting to sound like that's everybody.  Not just widows, divorcees, single parents or step-parents.  "Imperfect people who struggle" sounds like a universal description of mortals, to me.

Susan:  I think we do a disservice to each other when we put on the façade of perfection.  My closest friends are always people who are real with me.  I remember catching one of my friends at home in an old jogging suit when I was all dressed up for something.  She kept apologizing for her appearance.  So I lifted my skirt a few inches and showed her the golf ball-sized hole in my pantyhose just out of sight and told her to chill, that when somebody looks great you never know what they're hiding. 

During the worst of my pain, I needed to hear about somebody who went through trials and all the attendant negative emotions, but who came out on the other end with her faith intact and her relationship with her Father in Heaven in place, not someone who immediately had eternal perspective.  Sometimes we do have that rock in front of our eye blocking out the sun, and it takes a while for us to extend our arm and see anything beyond the trial. 

I was joking with a friend recently who was worried about weight she had gained and therefore wasn't looking forward to her high school reunion.  I told her that all it meant was that she wasn't going to be invited to sit at the cheerleader's table.  In anguish, she said, "But I was a cheerleader."  So I told her to think of it as a service project.  I told her the reason the rest of us women go to reunions is to see a fat cheerleader.  I then told her about what my son said to me when I was obsessing over losing weight for a reunion. 

After I had reported a ¼-inch reduction in the width of my ankles, he put his hand on my shoulder and calmly said, "Mom, I want you to remember that this is the part they put in the ground when you die."  Great wisdom like that needs to be shared, so I immediately imagined which of my characters would get to deliver that line, or rather be the recipient of it.  One of my favorite sayings is "We are not put on this earth to see through one another but to see one another through."   I hope my books can be part of helping people to make it through.

Meridian Magazine:

So how was Beverly's character born?

Susan:

As I found myself in different situations as a young widow, I often said, "Somebody should write a book."   A few encouraging words from author Orson Scott Card, who had read some of my short stories, gave me the confidence that maybe I could be that somebody.  His company had published a humorous novel called Paradise Vue by Kathryn Kidd, and after reading it, I thought he might enjoy my stuff, so I had made e-mail contact with him and had sent him some stuff to read.  He was very encouraging and told me I should try and write a novel.  He also told me to find my own style, not to try to imitate others.  It is amazing how much wisdom he imparted to me in a short paragraph, way back in the days of Prodigy when we were able to have a personal connection, before I was one of the eight kazillion people visiting his website daily. 

A couple of years ago, I finally got a chance to tell him how much his kind words meant to me and gave him a copy of my first book.  I had printed out his words of encouragement, blew them up, and had them on the bulletin board for a decade before my first book was published.  (My boys are all big fans of his, so it also helped them take my writing more seriously.)

So thus encouraged, I created Beverly and wrote about what I know.  She has experienced many of the same things I have, but she is much more outspoken and assertive than I have ever been. While I was at it, I made her a jogger, so she's thinner and more athletic than I am, too.  But I can sew, and she can't.  She thinks of the perfect comeback in time to deliver it, and she often blurts it out. Occasionally she is more circumspect and keeps her thoughts to herself, but I show them to the reader.

People say they like my characters because they are real.  I don't write easy answers, because in all my living, I've never found very many of them, except when we are telling other people how to solve their problems.  There are humorous moments, and there are touching moments.  I like the part in Push On where Bob prays over the sick dog and he gets better, the Bob goes into a depression because he was unable to heal his wife from her cancer.  There is a great part in Unfinished Business where Beverly stands up in court and says what she believes to be true rather than what will be politically expedient and convenient for her life.  The part in Push On where Beverly finally helps Gloria to cry over the loss of her mother, 50 years after the fact, always makes me cry.  I wonder if that is that like laughing at your own jokes.

click to buy

Meridian:  I cried for Bob and his first wife, and for Beverly many times.  I also startled my dogs by laughing out loud at Beverly's outbursts. 

One more question, if you have time.  Aspiring writers ask, so often, how you can have enough ideas to keep writing so prolifically.  Do you have a trick you can share, for generating all those pages, year after year?  Where do you find the creativity and the discipline?

Susan:  Creativity, yes.  The ideas come faster than I can write.  I currently have about eight to ten books in some stage of non-completion.  Discipline is not usually a word I hear in regards to myself unless it follows "you need to have more." 

I have a large portion of my brain called the "I need to put that in a book" section.  For example, one day I was sitting in church and an adorable little girl from the pew in front stood up and leaned over towards me.  Her father was in charge, and she was teething on a rubber snake.  It looked like something out of an Indiana Jones movie.  I told her dad that somehow that scene would find its way into one of my books.  When I created Clyde, I knew he was the kind of guy who would give his baby girl a rubber snake to teethe on, so I worked it in. 

I sometimes tell people, "Be nice to me, or you'll end up in one of my books."  Most of the stuff has been written mentally before I ever get around to the typing part.  I have whole books stored up there.  When I die, I've given my husband permission to have that section of my brain removed and the stories downloaded.  I worry about dying before I get it all written and leaving a bunch of half-finished work.  It is ironic that Unfinished Business was the name of my first published book. 

I am blessed to be married to a wonderful man who always helps me produce a better product.  For example, when I wrote the part about Shane trying to explain to his non-member parents why they couldn't be at his temple marriage, he said I resolved it too easily.  I immediately knew he was right, and I rewrote that part to make it real instead of the way we would like it to be.   He's also the one who suggested I do a storyline about a missionary getting sent home early, and I tried not to resolve that too easily either.  I knew I needed to give him some long-term consequences, but I have to admit that in the long run my sympathy got the better of me with Rodrigo and Angela. 

Meridian:  Maybe now hundreds of stories about dads taking care of babies will include the Indiana Jones teething snake.  Maybe you have created a cliché. 

One of my favorite "Beverlyisms appears in Brotherly Love, at her brother's wedding. Shortly after Beverly has broken up with her dream man, a guest asks, "So let me see your finger.  Anything sparkly?"

Beverly says, "Yes, I just bought this new CTR ring.  It stands for ‘Can't Take Rejection.'"

Susan:  As is true for most of us, Beverly's sarcasm often masks her pain.  There is a line at the end of that chapter.  "The picture of the maid of honor in her lavender dress, holding the bouquet and crying out behind the church, never made it into the photo album."

One even closer to home for me is from Unfinished Business.  When Beverly's husband dies, a lady who has yet to undergo a serious loss in her life makes the mistake of saying, "I know how you feel."  Beverly says to herself, "Sure you do. You had to flush a goldfish down the toilet when you were ten."

Another person, trying to be kind, says, "You're young and pretty.  You'll be married again in no time."

Beverly thinks silently of what she wishes she dared to say.  Thank you.  Would you please move along?  I see a nice-looking single fellow down the line, and I'd really like to get things moving (past the casket) so I can get acquainted with him.

Meridian:  I suspect our readers could recount some horror stories of their own.  How about the lady who wants her dish back, after the funeral?  Beverly says, "Sister Prescott, my husband died last week. How do you expect me to remember which dish the green Jell-o came in?"

I also felt a stab when the eager Single Adult leader tells her the regional dance hotline is available 24/7.  Beverly says, "Isn't that convenient?  When I can't sleep, I can call this Hotline in the middle of the night to see where the next singles' dance is.  Somebody tell me this isn't my life."

I think it was even worse after our heroine actually got up the nerve to go to one of the dances and met Mr. Not-So-Wonderful:  "I don't know you.  I don't invite strange guys that I've known for ten minutes over to my house at 11:00 at night."  The guy "Pushes On," (which was not, actually the inspiration for the next book in the series), showing Beverly his temple recommend and pictures of  his kids - and tells her he is a returned missionary.

"Okay, let's say I believe you.  You can come over after the dance." 

"What about directions to your house, and I don't know your last name," the clueless guy continues.

"Oh that.  I figured you're so spiritual you could get there by following the promptings of the Holy Ghost."

Ouch!  I think this shows how deeply Beverly is hurting.  She takes it out on this persistent guy, punishing him for all the men she is meeting who are NOT her beloved deceased husband.  Tough stuff.  Rough material.  But I thought your portrayal was a "can't put it down" read.  I understand you have a special offer for our readers.

Susan:  Yes, something FREE.  We reprinted Unfinished Business with a cover to match the other three books, and we now use the original printing as marketing copies, to get people familiar with my writing.  I will send a free, signed copy to anyone who sends an e-mail to susancorpany@aol.com with their name and address or the name and address of the person they would like me to send it to.  And anyone who is having a hard time finding the series in the bookstores, please e-mail me, and I'll let you know where you can find them.  Deseret Book has them on their website and will special order them, as will Seagull Books.  If there are enough requests, they will end up on the shelves.  Many of the independent bookstores carry them.  They are also available through the publisher at HagothPublishing@aol.com or you can request signed copies by using my e-mail above.

And by the way, the title for Push On came from the button on my curling iron.