Interview with the amazing author Anne Marie Pace – Bonus Podcast Episode
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Hey! Welcome to a bonus interview episode of Dogs are Smarter Than People, the usually quirky podcast that gives writing tips and life tips. I’m Carrie Jones and with me today is Anne Marie Pace
Anne Marie is an authenticity rock star. She’s the author of Vamperina Ballerina, Pigloo, Sonny’s Tow-truck, human-parent to animals and humans. She likes to read, cook, do some fine choral singing and be an all-around great friend. Anne Marie, it is so great for you to be here.
We talk about the inspiration for Vampirina Ballerina, a vampire who wants to take ballet lessons, cats who throw up and dogs who eat it, openness and mental health and being authentic even on social media.
I hope you’ll give it a listen and support one of the coolest writers around.
I spend almost all my time trying to be a nice person. It’s always been like this; I kid you not. Like in fifth grade I was voted MOST COURTEOUS like that was some kind of damn honor or something, right?
Carrie is polite.
Carrie is courteous.
Carrie is word-of-the day worthy.
That’s not who I thought I was.
“Most Courteous” wasn’t what I wanted to be, you know, right? Like I wanted to be “Smartest” or “Prettiest” or “Class Clown” or “Most Athletic” even though “Most Athletic” is something I could never be since I have zero hand-eye coordination. This is because I don’t use my left eye to see. They thought I was blind when I was born. I had an operation. I had glasses when I was one year old and kept them all the way until fifth grade when I prayed to God every night to not have to have glasses in middle school.
There was this stupid Dorothy Parker quote that says, “Boys don’t make passes at girls who wear glasses,” and that quote was like the word of God to me. I knew I would always be most courteous and not real superlative worthy unless I actually got rid of those damn glasses.
So I prayed.
At the doctor’s office, I sat in the chair and stared at the eye chart. It was all on my right eye, I knew. It had to perform at 100 % to get rid of those damn glasses.
The doctor was all, “Can you read this line?”
And I was all, “E.”
And he was all, “Can you read this line?”
And I was all, “T.O.Z.”
He made an interesting noise, like he was impressed. “Go down as low as you can. Just keep reading each line. Start at the top. How about that?”
“Okay.” I took a deep breath and started from the top. “E F P T P Z L P E D.”
I went on and on. I could see them all.
Sadly, the magical return of my eyesight didn’t make me magically popular as one boy reminded me at a sixth-grade dance at St Joseph’s the one Catholic church in our town. We had one Catholic church, which was where some of the Irish and French Canadian kids went. We had Protestant church, which was Presbyterian. That’s it.
I wanted to be one of those church kids so badly. But one of my dads was an atheist. Another dad was a lapsed Catholic who believed that hell was where we were living right now, on Earth. And my mom gave up her Methodist Church in Manchester because she caught the minister cheating at bowling and called him out on it.
“He lied to my face, that man,” Mom would self-righteously retell us for decades. “Right. To. My. Face. And this man was supposed to be in charge of my spiritual growth? I’ll show him spiritual growth. He was always looking at my cleavage, too. Creep.”
Bowling mattered a lot to my mom. But I was just annoyed because her cleavage and insistence that you aren’t supposed to cheat in bowling meant I couldn’t go to church.
And I wanted to.
I wanted to belong, you know?
So, when S. slow danced with me three times in a row at the CCD dance, I felt like I might actually belong.
But then he pulled away from me and said, “Carrie, let’s face it. Neither of us are lookers. So we might as well make do with each other.”
I stepped out of his arms and I said one word, “What?”
“I’m saying… I’m saying… We’re not tens so we might as well make do.”
I cried and I ran away and hid in the bathroom. I didn’t come out even when his mom, a freaking chaperone, came in to check on me. I didn’t come out until there wasn’t any music playing at all.
Only then did I run out to my mom’s old Chevy Monte Carlo, which was waiting in the parking lot. I wrenched open the door and slammed myself inside the car.
“What is it?” Her smile went into the anger place where her lips were just straight lines. This was how she looked when she talked about her little Methodist minister friend.
I blurted out what S. said. With my mother, there was no pretending something bad hadn’t happened. There were no secrets, unless they were hers.
“That bastard,” she said.
“I’m ugly.” I sobbed that out somehow.
“You aren’t ugly. That boy is ugly. His heart is ugly. He was working some line. He thinks he’s some actor. Some comedian. He’s a punk.”
But I knew in my heart that my mom was lying. I was ugly. I had to be.
I suddenly became someone I didn’t think I was.
And the thing is, no matter how many times I’ve heard people tell me I’m not, heard boys and girls call me cute or beautiful or lovely or pretty, I’ve never believed them. It’s S.S’s words that I hear in my head, over and over again.
Neither of us are lookers.
We’re not tens.
I have this other friend who photographs well. She is the opposite of me because I photograph like poop.
She says to me sometimes, “I don’t know how so many guys like you. You and me? We’re alright looking, but we’re not beautiful like OTHER GIRL.”
And I smiled at her.
OTHER GIRL is skinny and blonde and full of acne scars and holes of anxiety that threaten to eat her insides away. And I worry for her all the time.
And I am?
Alright looking, I guess. I became who she said I was.
Her words shouldn’t matter.
It freaking matters.
Other people’s words have echoed and echoed and shaped me until I don’t even want to be in a photograph anymore. I’m too afraid that the image of me that I see will be even worse than I imagine.
I had delusions of insignificance. Every time I felt badly about who I was it was because someone else had put me in a comparison situation.
You know how that is right?
Ah, I’m not as successful as Rick Riordan.
Ah, I’m not as beautiful as all these famous actresses and models or even that random police dispatcher in my town.
Ah, I’m not as smart as…
Ah, I’m not as good a runner as…
But the thing is? That’s crap. You are magical as you. You don’t need to be compared to anyone else or compare yourself to others. Superlatives are bull. We are all superlative at being ourselves.
Your life is your message to this world.
And what is that message? The truth of you? The truth of me? It sure isn’t how we look. It’s how we are on the inside. For me that’s word-of-the-day Carrie, Courteous Carrie, Writer Carrie, Photographer Carrie, Hug Your Dogs All the Time Carrie.
That’s the truth of you, too.
And looking into mirrors? It’s about more than seeing what’s on the outside, about more than being defined and labeled by what’s on that same outside. It’s about the inner you. The real you and seeing it – really seeing it – and knowing how freaking magic you are just by being you, authentically and truly you.
That’s not saying you don’t have flaws, that you won’t mess up. We all mess up. We mess up constantly.
Some people are afraid of the #metoo movement, of making their own mistakes when it comes to racial issues, religious issues, sexuality, identity, ability.
That fear? It’s good. It makes us better. We are all heading straight into truth; burning it out of ourselves, all the ugly things that we don’t want to see. We can’t let our fear slow us down. We can’t let other people’s visions of us control us. We can’t be afraid to look into the mirrors that see deep inside of us.
Social media brings out trolls. That’s so true, but it also gives us a voice, a hope. We have a new template for telling our stories, for making our lives and for sharing them in a world where our voices often didn’t matter. We can share our magic in so many ways.
And it’s intoxicating and terrifying. People are interested in other people. People are sharing with other people. People are even interested in us. In us.
And that’s power.
And that’s magic.
Use it wisely. I know I will try to. I know I make mistakes. I know that I am human. But the thing is? I love being human. I love growing and evolving and changing. I hope you do, too.
For a complete round-up of my 16-or-so books, check out my website. And if you like us, or our podcast, or just want to support a writer, please buy one of those books, or leave a review on a site like Amazon. Those reviews help. It’s all some weird marketing algorhthym from hell, basically.
The next book coming out with Bloomsbury in August is this one! More on the series here.
OUR PODCAST DOGS ARE SMARTER THAN PEOPLE – New episode tomorrow!
Thanks to all of you who keep listening to our weirdness as we talk about random thoughts, writing advice, and life tips.
Last week, I got the first pass proofs of ESCAPE FROM THE BADLANDS, the third book in the TIME STOPPERS series.
I am afraid of pass proofs.
But they are still super cool.
Why am I afraid of them?
Well, they come after the copy edits, so even if you suddenly realize that having your main character fall in love with a bottle of ALL NATURAL SNAPPLE ICED TEA was important to the plot of the book, you can not magically make this happen now. It is too late!!!!
Snapple: Is it ever really too late to make SNAPPLE an important plot choice/love interest? I doubt it.
Yes, Snapple! It is too late.
Why is it too late?
Well, the first pass proofs are really what the book is going to look like on the page. It’s sort of all set and ready to go.
And that’s scary. Your book baby is ready to go off into the world of anonymous reviews and bookstore shelves, and there is nothing you can do now to toughen her up, make her street smart. She will be out there on her own very very soon and you just have to pray she won’t be a train wreck and become the kind of book that the paparazzi take pictures of because she’s always forgetting to wear her underwear when she gets out of cars.
And all of this made me think about vulnerability.
Because writing a blog, a book, a podcast, creating art, any type of true communication and art is an act of expression and it makes you vulnerable. And this world? This world is currently full of people who attack others. Some of those attacks are horrific and visible. Some are hidden.
So, why do it? Why do anything?
Because if you don’t, the trolls win.
Because if you don’t, fear wins.
Because for every troll attacking you, there is someone who needs your story and your voice. That’s why.
This is why you should still be vulnerable despite the evil in this world. Ready?
Vulnerable People are Leaders
People who lead need to connect to others. Vulnerability and authenticity are ways of connection, ways that we break out of our comfort zones and reach for bigger, better things.
Vulnerability Helps Others
Almost every time I blog or post about something that isn’t considered cool, (Having epilepsy, growing up poor, sleeping in a car, being assaulted), people tell me that I’m inspiring. I sure don’t ever feel inspiring. At all. And I have a hard time accepting that compliment, but… I appreciate that kindness because it means that it means those people are getting something positive out of my life or what I’m saying.
Plus, how cool is it that they took the time out of their lives to deliberately say something kind and supportive.
Can there be a bigger gift than hearing that you’ve helped someone else? Somehow? Even though you were just being you.
Vulnerability Is Contagious
Being brave and exposing yourself and your truth? It helps others be brave. Sure, it can backfire. When I first posted about my daughter being worried about me going to the Boston Marathon, trolls said my daughter (who is a Lt in the Army) must be a terrorist and have known about it or else why would she be worried about me. Yep… They actually went there.
And that’s the thing. You never know when someone is going to attack you or what for, but you can’t let that fear of evil suppress your voice, your story, your thoughts or your truths.
Silence is oppressive.
But vulnerability? It’s contagious.
Telling your story gives strength to others who haven’t been able to tell theirs yet. Facing your demons helps others to face their own. Isn’t that the kind of infection we want? Instead of a lack of civility and a parade of trolls, how about we work towards authenticity and vulnerability and truth?
A vulnerability contagion…I think that would be pretty cool. So, today’s Wednesday Writing Wisdom is to be vulnerable. No art is any good without it.
I’ll be at Sherman’s Bookstore in Bar Harbor on April 28 from 1-2.
To find out more about my books, there are links in the header. And if you buy one? Thank you so much. Let me know if you want me to send you a bookplate.
The podcast DOGS ARE SMARTER THAN PEOPLE is still chugging along. Thanks to all of you who keep listening to our weirdness. We’re sorry we laugh so much… sort of. Please share it and subscribe if you can.
COOKING WITH A WRITER
I have started a tongue-in-spoon subgroup in my blog all about cooking vegetarian recipes as a writer. It is silly. The recipes still work though. Check it out here.
THE CLASS AT THE WRITING BARN
The awesome six-month-long Writing Barn class that they’ve let me be in charge of!? It’s happening again in July. Write! Submit! Support! is a pretty awesome class. It’s a bit like a mini MFA but way more supportive and way less money. We’ll be having a Zoom class to learn more about it and I’ll share the details as soon as they are official.
FLYING AND ENHANCED – THE YOUNG ADULT SCIENCE FICTION SERIES
These books are out there in the world thanks to Tor.
What books? Well, cross Buffy with Men in Black and you get… you get a friends-powered action adventure based in the real world, but with a science fiction twist. More about it is here. But these are fun, fast books that are about identity, being a hero, and saying to heck with being defined by other people’s expectations.
This quick, lighthearted romp is a perfect choice for readers who like their romance served with a side of alien butt-kicking action –School Library Journal
Share this if you want and also because it would be super nice of you!
White Russians Have Three Ingredients, Darn It! Agh!
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In Episode Five of our podcast, we get a closer look at the interpersonal dynamics of Carrie and Shaun and also insight into the ingredients of a White Russian, which is now called the Caucasian.
The subtitle for this podcast is Sometimes Even Those Who Lack Confidence Must Insist They Are Right
Writers like Carrie sometimes don’t have a lot of confidence. Carrie is constantly being told by business people the following two things:
There is no money in modesty.
She needs to be more confident.
Sidenote: It’s hard to feel confident when people tell you that you lack something – confidence. If you are worried about being someone’s confidence, give them a hug instead of a lecture. Always
However, Carrie turns that thought back around and claims that her lack of some confidence occasionally actually allows her to strive to be better, to keep learning. And her openness about her lack of confidence actually makes her authentic.
She is confident about being authentic, basically.
Dog Tip of the Cast: Be you. Be alpha dog. Don’t be alpha dog. Do what makes you happy and don’t worry too much about negative labels humans might give you.
Writer Tip For Life: Self doubt can help you sharpen your skills. Don’t pretend to be the person you aren’t. Strive for better but don’t deride yourself for the who you are right now.
Share this if you want and also because it would be super nice of you!