Karen A. Wyle was born a Connecticut Yankee, but eventually
settled in Bloomington, Indiana,
home of Indiana University. She now
considers herself a Hoosier. Wyle's childhood ambition was to be the youngest ever-published
novelist. While writing her first novel at age ten, she was mortified to learn
that some British upstart had beaten her to the goal at age nine.
Wyle is an appellate attorney, photographer, political
junkie, and mother of two daughters. Her voice is the product of almost five
decades of reading both literary and genre fiction. It is no doubt also
influenced, although she hopes not fatally tainted, by her years of law
practice. Her personal history has led her to focus on often-intertwined themes
of family, communication, the impossibility of controlling events, and the
persistence of unfinished business.
Many writers know from childhood
that they were meant to write. Many others come to writing late, often after
raising families or developing other careers. I'm one of those who did both.
From early childhood, I considered
myself a writer. I had a poem (not a very good one) published in the local
paper when I was in 3
rd grade. When I was 10, I decided to write a
novel as a labor of love for my 5
th grade teacher. It was my
ambition to be the youngest published author ever, and I was somewhat
crestfallen to learn that a 9-year-old girl had claimed that honor. I completed
the novel, despite this setback. I wrote two pages a day, longhand (of course –
this was in 1965), in pencil, and stopped at 200 pages or thereabouts. It had
its acceptable passages, but was mostly dreck (although, if I am ever
psychoanalyzed, the analyst could paddle happily about in that book for several
years). I began to realize my novel’s failings when the teacher, to reward my
achievement, read parts of it to the class during story time.
I tried to write a second novel –
about an orphan, I believe – at age 14, but stopped after 40 pages. For the
next few years, I concentrated on poetry, of varying quality. I still
considered myself a writer, but felt I had not yet found my proper area of focus.
Then came college. Cue ominous
music. In my junior or senior year, I took a seminar in writing short stories.
I wrote at least two stories and some shorter assignments. (I found them while
visiting my parents last summer. They weren’t bad.) One day, in class, the
instructor commented casually that I had done a pretty good job at something or
other, given that I was “not a born writer.” Through all my shifts and doubts,
“born writer” was the one belief about myself I had maintained. For whatever
combination of reasons, I let that teacher’s assessment crash down on me like a
boulder from a cliff.
I am not sure whether I wrote
another poem. I know I wrote no more fiction for many years. I did become a
lawyer. I came to concentrate on writing appellate briefs. I took pride and
some comfort in my frequently confirmed ability to work with words. I described
myself as not a writer, but a wordsmith.
At age 36, very pregnant with my
first child, I wrote what was almost a poem – a picture book manuscript, just
88 words long, called “Mommy Calls Me Acorn.” Over the next 19 years (and
counting), I wrote more picture books. They tended to be short on character and
plot. I told myself and others that writing anything with characters and a plot
was beyond my talents.
A few years ago, I took a plane
somewhere, and got to chatting with the man in the next seat. I don’t remember
how I came to tell him the story of that college class. I suggested a way to
interpret or explain the instructor’s comment: perhaps she meant that I was not
a born
storyteller. He raised an
eyebrow. Apparently, he thought I had told my story well enough.
Just before November 2009, my
older daughter, a wildly talented young artist, heard about NaNoWriMo (National
Novel Writing Month) and decided to take part, her senior year in high school
(and one college visit) notwithstanding. She won – and produced a wonderfully
entertaining novel. I began to toy with the thought of trying NaNoWriMo myself
-- someday. Someday came the
following year. I gave myself permission to start without knowing whether I
could possibly succeed. Give it a few days. See what happens.
What happened was that the
facility in writing I had gained, over many years of producing words in
quantity, made it surprisingly easy to sit at the keyboard, or go for a walk
with pad in hand, and have events and characters and dialogues emerge. There
was, of course, effort – but it was
natural.
And while my characters didn’t throw me the wildest of curves, they frequently
wrote my scenes for me.

I "won" NaNoWriMo by
passing the 50,000 word mark by the end of November (actually making it to
60,000), and spent the next ten months or so expanding and revising and editing
my science fiction novel,
Twin-Bred.
And editing. And editing. . . .
During that process, my goals for the book
changed. At the start, I was busily researching the process of finding an agent
and/or publisher. I wrote and rewrote query letters, made long lists of agents,
and followed agent blogs. Somewhere along the way, I started hearing about the
recent changes in the publishing industry and the surrounding landscape. I
learned how much more practical it had become to publish one's own work, as a
POD (print on demand) paperback and/or an eBook. I read many a blog post about
the pros and cons of self-publishing, and gradually became convinced that for
me, it made eminent sense. I am thrilled, tickled, and delighted to be
self-publishing
Twin-Bred this month.
I have rough drafts of another novel and a short story awaiting my attention,
and I intend to self-publish them in due course.
I cannot generally endorse the
view that all trials and setbacks are disguised blessings. There is too much in
human experience to which that statement can't even remotely apply. But for me,
it has often been true, and I believe it is true of my long detour away from
and back to my identity as a writer. This -- not thirty years ago -- is the
time to be writing fiction.
eBook Giveaway: Simply leave a comment with your name for this post. Please make sure your user profile you sign in to comment with has an email attached where I (Nora B. Peevy) can contact you. On Sunday, October 30, 2011, I'll announce the winner here. The author will email your ebook to you afterwards.
Suggest a song and win an eBook: Karen A. Wyle is running a special promotion for Twin-Bred. Be the first reader to suggest a song for a Twin-Bred playlist and if I agree with your selection, your name and song choice will be included in an appendix to a future edition of the book!
Please send an mp3 file or a link to a YouTube video where I can hear the song, to Karen A. Wyle at
kawyle@kiva.net. (At the same time, please let me know if you'd like to be on my email alert list, so you can hear about upcoming releases and events.)
I'll post occasional updates about the playlist on
Twin-Bred's Facebook page.
Purchase Twin-Bred here:
Amazon:
The Kindle Edition &
Paperback
Barnes and Noble:
The Nook Edition
Createspace (paperback)
Smashwords