Table of Contents: From Breakfast With Anita Diamant to Dessert With James Patterson - a Generous Helping of Recipes, Writings and Insights From Today's Bestselling Authors by Judy Gelman, Vicki Levy Krupp Page A
Authors: Judy Gelman, Vicki Levy Krupp
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(to prevent a skin from forming). Chill thoroughly in refrigerator.
8 In separate bowl of an electric mixer fitted with a whisk attachment, beat cream on high speed until thick. Fold whipped cream into custard.
9 To assemble the cream puffs: Use a serrated knife to slice the top third from each puff. Remove any excess “skin” from inside of puff. Fill with about 2 tablespoons of filling, until full but not overflowing, and replace top. (Any extra filling is wonderful on fresh fruit.) Sprinkle with confectioners' sugar if desired. Serve immediately (see note).
Julia Glass
Dennis Cowley
SELECTED WOEKS
The Widower's Tale (2010)
I See You Everywhere (2008)
The Whole World Over (2006)
Three Junes (2002)
On My Characters Every piece of fiction I write begins with a single character, one who generally occurs to me out of the blue so I'm never really sure where he or she came from. Of course, that character is always in a pickle of some kind. The trouble may come from inside or outside the character, but trouble there always must be. That's the genesis of the story. Other characters “sprout” from the first one — mates, children, parents, coworkers — and often I'm surprised which ones grow in importance. For instance, The Whole World Over began as a “he said, she said” tale about the marriage of Greenie Duquette and Alan Glazier. Two characters I created only as foils to this couple — Walter, the restaurateur for whom Greenie makes desserts; and Saga, the woman who's struggling with a damaged memory and who captivates Alan — loomed far larger than I originally intended. Basically, they stole my heart. That's what I love about forging ahead into the territory of a novel without a map in hand. Only when I've written several chapters do I begin to see where the journey may end.
Readers Should Know
The lion's share of writing fiction is, for me, the day-dreaming that takes place during the margins of my daily life: traffic jams, long lines at the post office, showers, walking the dog, idling through the produce aisle. That's when I make essential decisions about my characters' choices and relationships, about what accidents will befall them. I may go two or three weeks without getting any of these imaginings down on the page, but finding space for this interior process every day is crucial. You cannot write good fiction without spending significant time alone, marinating in your own thoughts, listening to those accidental inner voices, and nurturing the souls who populate your stories. You must be unreachable by phone, untethered by an iPod, and steeped in a private silence. Our culture is increasingly impoverished by a collective dependence on media gadgets and all electronic forms of communication that saturate our minds in facts, opinions, political prophecies, and the so-called news. We may be living in a golden age of invention, but that kind of creativity is not synonymous with, or a substitute for, imagination.
Readers Frequently Ask People express amazement that I can so intimately portray people who seem so different from me — most notably, a gay Scottish man (Fenno, the central character in Three Junes ). I explain that I always have a great deal in common with my main characters. Like Fenno, I adore books, I lived in Greenwich Village, and for much of my youth I was overly cautious when it came to taking emotional risks. Like Greenie Duquette, I love to immerse myself in making people happy by feeding them. At the time I wrote The Whole World Over , I also had a verbally precocious young son and lived in a very small apartment with makeshift sleeping quarters. That old chestnut “write what you know” goes only so far, however. Without setting challenges for oneself — stretching far to know what you want to know about human nature — the imagined world would quickly become predictable, the experience of writing myopic. In every new story, I take on at least one character or experience I'm
8 In separate bowl of an electric mixer fitted with a whisk attachment, beat cream on high speed until thick. Fold whipped cream into custard.
9 To assemble the cream puffs: Use a serrated knife to slice the top third from each puff. Remove any excess “skin” from inside of puff. Fill with about 2 tablespoons of filling, until full but not overflowing, and replace top. (Any extra filling is wonderful on fresh fruit.) Sprinkle with confectioners' sugar if desired. Serve immediately (see note).
Julia Glass
Dennis Cowley
SELECTED WOEKS
The Widower's Tale (2010)
I See You Everywhere (2008)
The Whole World Over (2006)
Three Junes (2002)
On My Characters Every piece of fiction I write begins with a single character, one who generally occurs to me out of the blue so I'm never really sure where he or she came from. Of course, that character is always in a pickle of some kind. The trouble may come from inside or outside the character, but trouble there always must be. That's the genesis of the story. Other characters “sprout” from the first one — mates, children, parents, coworkers — and often I'm surprised which ones grow in importance. For instance, The Whole World Over began as a “he said, she said” tale about the marriage of Greenie Duquette and Alan Glazier. Two characters I created only as foils to this couple — Walter, the restaurateur for whom Greenie makes desserts; and Saga, the woman who's struggling with a damaged memory and who captivates Alan — loomed far larger than I originally intended. Basically, they stole my heart. That's what I love about forging ahead into the territory of a novel without a map in hand. Only when I've written several chapters do I begin to see where the journey may end.
Readers Should Know
The lion's share of writing fiction is, for me, the day-dreaming that takes place during the margins of my daily life: traffic jams, long lines at the post office, showers, walking the dog, idling through the produce aisle. That's when I make essential decisions about my characters' choices and relationships, about what accidents will befall them. I may go two or three weeks without getting any of these imaginings down on the page, but finding space for this interior process every day is crucial. You cannot write good fiction without spending significant time alone, marinating in your own thoughts, listening to those accidental inner voices, and nurturing the souls who populate your stories. You must be unreachable by phone, untethered by an iPod, and steeped in a private silence. Our culture is increasingly impoverished by a collective dependence on media gadgets and all electronic forms of communication that saturate our minds in facts, opinions, political prophecies, and the so-called news. We may be living in a golden age of invention, but that kind of creativity is not synonymous with, or a substitute for, imagination.
Readers Frequently Ask People express amazement that I can so intimately portray people who seem so different from me — most notably, a gay Scottish man (Fenno, the central character in Three Junes ). I explain that I always have a great deal in common with my main characters. Like Fenno, I adore books, I lived in Greenwich Village, and for much of my youth I was overly cautious when it came to taking emotional risks. Like Greenie Duquette, I love to immerse myself in making people happy by feeding them. At the time I wrote The Whole World Over , I also had a verbally precocious young son and lived in a very small apartment with makeshift sleeping quarters. That old chestnut “write what you know” goes only so far, however. Without setting challenges for oneself — stretching far to know what you want to know about human nature — the imagined world would quickly become predictable, the experience of writing myopic. In every new story, I take on at least one character or experience I'm
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