July 18, 2002

photo:Chris Hildreth

I spent an hour on the phone today with a newspaper reporter. He asked me if Constance, because of the numerous literary references, was my "valentine to the literary world." I said yes--"a resounding yes"--it is my valentine to the writers who have meant so much to me in my life.

It was my fourth interview. With each one I learn something new about the book and sometimes about myself. Yesterday I told my editor, Bob Loomis ['49], that I've had a lot of people who have read Constance, both friends and journalists, tell me that they now plan to reread The Great Gatsby. I said this was the best compliment I could receive.

A couple of nights ago, I met Lillian Ross at a reading at Barnes & Noble on the Upper East Side. She read excerpts from many of her New Yorker pieces. She's been writing for the magazine for nearly fifty years, and she's still going strong. Afterwards, I waited in line to have her sign two of her books. When I got to the head of the line, I handed the Barnes & Noble moderator a Post-it note with my name written out. She took the note, looked at it and then said, "Catherine Cantrell--you're going to be reading here next month." I said that, yes, I was. She turned to Ms. Ross and told her I was a writer and that I had just published a book.

Constance: an excerpt

" Is it your first book?" Ms. Ross asked me.

I said yes.

" Is it a novel?" she wanted to know.

I said yes.

" Who is your publisher?"

I told her my publisher was Random House.

" And who is your editor?"

" Bob Loomis," I said.

" Oh, you're an important writer then," she said.

I told Bob this story, and he laughed. "That's very nice to hear," he said. "Thank you. I'm surprised." He's a modest man. As an editor, he likes to stay in the background, but everybody in the publishing industry knows how gifted he is and how much he cares about his writers. They all have the utmost respect for him.

My sister called me a couple of nights ago and told me one of her friends had been flipping through the magazine Marie Claire on the train and saw something about my book. It turns out that Constance was on their "10 Best: To Do" list. I had been hoping the book would be mentioned in one of the large-circulation women's magazines, so I was happy. My publicist, Todd Doughty, was, too. It's hard for a novel by an unknown writer to get attention.

July 25

I did my first radio interview today--at a rest stop just outside of Snow Shoe, Pennsylvania. I was on my way to my first reading in Kalamazoo, Michigan, and my car was parked next to a Chiquita banana truck. I had learned I was going to be doing the five-minute interview with a local Kalamazoo station just two-and-a-half hours earlier, when the station programmer called me on my cell phone while I was driving. He said they'd call me at ten minutes past one and do the interview on the phone. At exactly 1:10 my cell phone rang, and I was cued in. When the host of the program asked me what I planned to do on Saturday at the reading, I said, "The people who come to the reading on Saturday are going to get the DVD-special-features version of Constance." What I meant by this was that I was going to read a poem in its entirety that I had only been able to use excerpts of in the book.

July 28

John Rollins Books in Kalamazoo is one of the largest independent bookstores in the country, and they couldn't have been more welcoming. They actually had my name up on the marquee in front of the store.

The Q&A at the end was the best part. One question, in particular, made me think about what writing Constance had meant to me. A woman asked: "Was it a learning or growth experience for you? Were you different in your psychology after finishing the book?" This was a big question, and the first thing I said was, "Well, I was really tired, for one thing." That got a big laugh. After I'd had a moment to think about it, though, I said, "I think the main thing I learned is what a great force the unconscious is in our lives."

I said that I could see this when people pointed things out to me that I'd done in the book that I hadn't consciously thought about. Of course, on some level I had thought about it, but not necessarily on a conscious level. That is really how writers write books: All these forces work together to create a unified whole. I pointed out to the audience, too, that everyone has had this experience of being directed by something outside of their immediate awareness--whether it's a matter of "finding the right book at the right time with just the thing that you're looking for" or making some psychological connection that allows you to see things differently.