Posts Tagged ‘grace period’
As most you likely know, Raven Books, an imprint of Blue Crow Publishing specializing in non-fiction, decided to publish Grace Period: A Memoir in Pieces as a PAPERBACK. If the shouty caps weren’t enough to clue you in, I am so, so, so excited that my memoir is now a physical book that you can read or hug or use as a coaster for your coffee mug. I’m equally glad that all of you who don’t read on Kindles or iPads will get a chance to read it. I can attest that Blue Crow did a fabulous job with the cover and book design. I pretty much happy-cried my way through checking page proofs because everything was so beautiful.
So, I’ll hope y’all will do me a favor: If you get a copy, please tweet me a photo, so I can see the book out in the wild. I promise that I will be sharing photos of my two adorable children with their copies as soon as my author copies arrive. (Hurry, please, postperson!)
Additionally, Blue Crow is giving away TWO copies of the uncorrected proofs of Grace Period. The details of the contest are here. Please note that the the winner will be randomly selected on Wednesday, October 4th.
And finally, I’m hosting an Amazon giveaway right now to celebrate my book’s paperback publication. I’m giving away 10 eBooks of Joan Didion’s After Henry: Essays because I adore Joan Didion and I love excellent essays. The giveaway ends October 10 at midnight PDT, so check it out!
I’m excited to announce a GRACE PERIOD: A MEMOIR IN PIECES giveaway on Amazon. You can win one of the five copies of the eBook available. That’s right you can get a copy of my book for FREE, so what are you waiting for?
Here’s what folks are saying about GRACE PERIOD so far:
“Baker is one of my favorite writers thinking about higher education today, and it turns out she’s a gifted personal essayist as well. In Grace Period, Baker combines higher ed commentary and personal storytelling in this beautiful reflection on what happens when the future you planned for doesn’t happen and you have to build something new in its place.”–Book RiotA dynamic, meditative book for anyone who has changed careers or contemplated doing so.”–Katie Rose Guest Pryal, J.D., Ph.D., author of the Hollywood Lights novels and columnist for Chronicle Vitae and Women in Higher Education
Check it out and please feel free to share the giveaway with your friends!
Your book was published this week. Something you created made it out into the world, and your creative work with it is finished. (Book promotion is a different story.) There’s nothing more to write for this particular book, which makes you wistful, nostalgic even. Your book was not finished. And now, it is. One book complete, and another (and another) wait to be written. You try to remember what writing this particular book was like, but your memories have already dissipated. You realize how little you remember. You realize how much you’ve already forgotten. This thought stays with you awhile.
There’s so much you forget about making a book. There’s so little you remember.
Perhaps, there’s a reason for this forgetting. Perhaps, if you remembered everything required to write this book, you would run for the hills or the mountains or the forest or the streams instead of writing another book. Perhaps, if you remembered, you wouldn’t write the next book, the next essay, the next poem, the next paragraph, the next line, or the next word. If you remembered what making a book required, maybe you would give up on writing. Maybe you might not want to create anything. But, if you forget, maybe you can write another book because you’ve forgotten the agony of a book’s beginning and the harrowing and continuing doubts about its potential.
Here are the all of the things you forget about making a book once it’s published:
You forget that a book is made word by word, line by line, paragraph by paragraph, page by page, and chapter by chapter. You build a book piece by painstaking piece. Only you. It’s yours to build. It’s yours to protect and harbor. It’s yours, it’s yours, it’s yours… (more…)
This morning at 5:15 am, I looked at my phone with bleary eyes. I wanted to check my email before I left my house to catch a plane. And resting in my inbox was an email from my press letting me know that Grace Period: A Memoir in Pieces was released. I blinked a few times to make sure that my overactive imagination wasn’t playing a trick on me. I looked at my phone again, and the email was real. What a lovely thing to happen on a regular Tuesday in June.
So, today is release day for my third book, and I’m having a hard time containing my excitement. No one at the Atlanta airport seems to appreciate my inability to stop smiling. Grace Period is a different book than my previous ones because it’s memoir, not monograph. But, it’s also not a traditional memoir. The story of my transition out of academia appears in fragments, or pieces, rather than a story with a clear beginning or end. I wanted to document how it felt for my life to veer off the path I expected and onto different paths that I wouldn’t have been able to imagine four years ago.
Here’s the description:
How do you build a life after failed dreams and missed opportunities? Kelly J. Baker finished her PhD in religion and imagined that she would end up in the tenure-track job for which she trained. She had done everything right: written a provocative and well-researched book, given presentations at national conferences, published articles, and created and taught a number of popular classes. Doing everything right, however, doesn’t guarantee anything if the career you trained for is no longer sustainable. The economic depression in 2008 gutted the job market for tenure-track jobs in the humanities, so she couldn’t find her dream job and worked instead as an adjunct and later a full-time lecturer.
But after five years of job rejections and a new baby on the way, she decided to take a year off to figure out if the career she trained for was actually the life she wanted. Grace Period: A Memoir in Pieces are the essays that she wrote to make sense of how her life went off-track. Expanding on her popular Chronicle Vitae column of the same name, she documents her transition out of academia and the emotional turmoil of rebuilding a life beyond what she had prepared for. Instead of telling an easy story about her exit from the academy into a brand-new post-academic career, Baker resists smoothing over the hard reality of transitions, the importance of waiting and anticipation, and the realization that the lives we imagine for ourselves are tenuous at best and often are impossible to achieve.
I hope you all enjoy it. And please let me know what you think as you read it.