Excerpts

Blackbird is a book I wanted to write. Dead parents, a spate of homelessness, and countless moves from Nevada to California and back to Nevada had me emerge from my childhood in a spinning haze. Writing Blackbird brought organization to the chaos of experience and memory. I required such order as I ventured into the creation of my own family, which included--I hoped--having children of my own. I needed to sort myself out. Still Waters, called the sequel to Blackbird, was not a book I wanted to write nor was it a true sequel. But how could I not write that book? Blackbird sold in two dozen countries, was translated into many languages, was featured on Oprah, and hit The New York Times bestseller list, twice. An immediate follow up to Blackbird was demanded, expected, required. Those in charge of my marketing life were insistent. Money was tossed around like candy at a parade. While I had (and have) as much of a sweet tooth as the next writer, I was feeling a little sick by the demands being made due to that early success. I wanted to say, "No thank you, Mr. & Mrs. Corporate Executive, this is my art and I am not prepared to write a sequel." Instead, being a life-long pleaser and a well-adapted achiever, I banked the money and went to work. After several weeks of trying, nothing fruitful was created. I discovered only a dry well and my writing time was spent hiding under my desk with a box of tissues cradled close. Eventually I suggested that the publisher take the money back. In a startling move, the publisher flew out to Portland, ate a lovely lunch (which I had nervously prepared) in my kitchen nook, and offered reassurance with butterfly nonchalance. She let me know that she didn't want the money back, she wanted a finished book and she wanted it on time. This publisher then told me I was scrappy, in the same way she had been scrappy in her early days as a young executive. She saw a bright, brilliant future for me as a writer. She was eager to be proven right. After she left my home, I cleaned up the kitchen and forced myself to try harder. Within days, I was under the desk yet again. I felt like the doomed girl in the tale Rumpelstilskin, only I was unable to spin gold from my pile of straw. Next, an editor from in from New York. With a stack of 3 x 5 note cards, she got to work on each and every scene of my life from childhood to adulthood in order that we find a way to make this satisfying sequel come into form. Somehow, impossibly, we cobbled together Still Waters and it was sent into the world as that much-awaited satisfying sequel to Blackbird. -- How many artists--writers, actors, and musicians--have a similar tale? How many writers, actors, and musicians fall by the wayside, unable to create under such pressure? It happens too often, and it happened to me. But then there is the second act. The comeback! -- A Childhood Lost was my subtitle for Blackbird. Marketers and booksellers informed me that readers didn't care for such grim descriptions. In the same way that publishers required satisfying sequels, readers apparently required satisfying captions. I was directed to add "and Found" to the subtitle making it A Childhood Lost and Found. I was also instructed to change the ending of Blackbird in order that it be more hopeful. What's a life-long-pleaser who is also a well-adapted achiever to do? While I seethed internally, I made the changes and reminded myself to be grateful. I was truly lucky to be published at all. The truth is that ten more years needed to pass before I could truly say I had been found or better yet, that I had found myself. Thus the title I have created for this work. Found becomes both a little twist on that long-ago addition to a subtitle and a way to point to the truth of what is now. This story I've rendered is one of search, discovery, and redemption. I am found. Perhaps all those years ago, marketers and booksellers were doing more than offering a positive spin to my sad storyline of a childhood lost. Perhaps they were doing a bit of fortune telling as well. In insisting that I add the word "found" to the subtitle of Blackbird, they may have helped propel me toward that "found" half of the equation. Or perhaps I made the change to my subtitle, not just to be obedient but to invest myself in the possibility that such a glorious outcome existed not in the hopeful mind of a marketer, a bookseller, a publisher, an editor or even a reader, but within Jennifer. Don't we all want to be found? Didn't I? And so we have it. Found. This is the true sequel to Blackbird: A Childhood Lost. May this book be truly satisfying to all who read these words. It was most satisfying to live and to create. Excerpted from Found: A Memoir by Jennifer Lauck All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.