Happy Friday Friends! I'm next on the I Am Lucky Bird by Fleur Philips blog tour with Booksparks PR. Fleur is also stopping by to talk a little bit about her book and why she choose to write in the drama/suspense genre. Hang out for a while and get to know this talented author and don't forget to put it on you TBR pile. OH and make sure to watch the book trailer...it's really good! =)
When her mother mysteriously vanishes from the small town of Plains, Montana, 12-year-old Lucky Bird’s childhood comes to an abrupt end. Left to defend herself against her suddenly abusive grandmother, Marian, and forced to endure the twisted predatory games played out by Marian’s lover, Lucky soon finds herself trapped in a nightmare.
Even when she manages to escape, the outside world can’t take away the brutal images of her past. Still haunted by her mother’s disappearance and the trauma that followed, Lucky is easily led down a path of self-destruction—a path that only the intervention of a young stranger and his family can guide her away from. But first, Lucky will have to confront her demons, and the dark truths kept hidden.Buy the book
Excerpt:
"Your mother didn't make it to the library this morning, Lucky," he said. "We're gonna do everything we can to find her."
He turned and looked at Marian. "If you hear from her...if you hear from anybody...give me a call."
He nodded, squeezed my shoulder, and then walked into the foyer and out the front door. I listened to the thud of his boots across the porch boards and down the wooden steps. There was a moment of silence, and then I heard him continue across the dirt path. I heard a car door open and shut. I heard an engine rumble. And then, nothing, as though the officer hadn't been there at all.
Marian pushed her chair back and stood up.
"I'm going out," she whispered.
I remained still as she walked past me and out the front door. The Ford's engine choked and gasped, and then rumbled loudly in the growing darkness.
I'm not sure how long I stood there, staring across the empty dining room and through the window to the blackness beyond. I listened to my breathing and to the steady thumping of my heart. The silence around me was so thick and heavy that at one point I thought my eardrums might actually explode.
And then I was so completely terrified I couldn't move. I couldn't close my eyes. I couldn't even breathe.
I waited. AnnMarie didn't come home.
Guest Post:
My desire to help, my reason for writing
I’ve been asked a number of times over the past year where the idea for I Am Lucky Bird came from. Did I endure the kinds of trauma Lucky Bird endures throughout the story? If so, did I write the book to help me come to terms with my own past? Or, do I know someone like Lucky Bird, and did I write the book for her?
The answer to both possibilities is no. Quite the opposite of Lucky, I had an amazing childhood with two loving parents and three wonderful brothers. To this day, we’re all very close. I haven’t endured anything like Lucky Bird does, nor do I know anyone who personally has.
I can’t remember when I started writing short stories, but my mom has an entire collection of them in a hope chest at her house in Port Ludlow, Washington. On a visit there last year, I pulled the stories out and read through them, and I discovered a common theme. Like Lucky Bird, the characters in all of these stories were struggling—a sister trying to come to terms with the suicide of a younger brother, a daughter returning home to make amends with a father who’d abandoned her at a young age, a mother in search of a son who was kidnapped at the age of five. And I wondered, why does a woman like me—a woman who’s had more ups than downs, who’s never suffered a severe loss (my biggest obstacle in life so far is an amicable divorce), who’s never been abused or mistreated—choose to write about hardship and pain and loss? Why are these the stories I write?
I think Lucky Bird—like the sister, the daughter, the mother—came to me because I’ve never experienced her anguish. I have no “real” connection to any of her suffering. Instead, I have a deep-seeded desire to help someone like her. I imagined what it would be like to be Lucky Bird. How would I want my story to end, and what would I need to do to get there? I did the same with the sister, the daughter, and the mother in my short stories, and although I had nothing in common with any of these characters, I wanted to help them. I wanted to guide them through their suffering and lead them down a better path, much as I did Lucky Bird.
I guess the idea for I Am Lucky Bird came from a need to explore the unknown and connect with unfamiliar characters. As evident in past (and future) work, it’s my reason for writing. Somehow, if I can understand the “unknown” and “unfamiliar”, I can, in my own personal way, fulfill that deep-seeded desire to help someone survive the unthinkable.
I’ve been asked a number of times over the past year where the idea for I Am Lucky Bird came from. Did I endure the kinds of trauma Lucky Bird endures throughout the story? If so, did I write the book to help me come to terms with my own past? Or, do I know someone like Lucky Bird, and did I write the book for her?
The answer to both possibilities is no. Quite the opposite of Lucky, I had an amazing childhood with two loving parents and three wonderful brothers. To this day, we’re all very close. I haven’t endured anything like Lucky Bird does, nor do I know anyone who personally has.
I can’t remember when I started writing short stories, but my mom has an entire collection of them in a hope chest at her house in Port Ludlow, Washington. On a visit there last year, I pulled the stories out and read through them, and I discovered a common theme. Like Lucky Bird, the characters in all of these stories were struggling—a sister trying to come to terms with the suicide of a younger brother, a daughter returning home to make amends with a father who’d abandoned her at a young age, a mother in search of a son who was kidnapped at the age of five. And I wondered, why does a woman like me—a woman who’s had more ups than downs, who’s never suffered a severe loss (my biggest obstacle in life so far is an amicable divorce), who’s never been abused or mistreated—choose to write about hardship and pain and loss? Why are these the stories I write?
I think Lucky Bird—like the sister, the daughter, the mother—came to me because I’ve never experienced her anguish. I have no “real” connection to any of her suffering. Instead, I have a deep-seeded desire to help someone like her. I imagined what it would be like to be Lucky Bird. How would I want my story to end, and what would I need to do to get there? I did the same with the sister, the daughter, and the mother in my short stories, and although I had nothing in common with any of these characters, I wanted to help them. I wanted to guide them through their suffering and lead them down a better path, much as I did Lucky Bird.
I guess the idea for I Am Lucky Bird came from a need to explore the unknown and connect with unfamiliar characters. As evident in past (and future) work, it’s my reason for writing. Somehow, if I can understand the “unknown” and “unfamiliar”, I can, in my own personal way, fulfill that deep-seeded desire to help someone survive the unthinkable.
About the Author:
Fleur
Philips is a graduate student at Antioch University in Los Angeles,
pursuing her MFA in Creative Writing. She attended the University of
Oregon in Eugene where she was awarded placement in the Kidd Tutorial
Creative Writing Program. After a short-lived acting career (she was a
“featured extra” on Steven Spielberg’s Catch Me If You Can), she completed three manuscripts. I Am Lucky Bird is her first novel and was selected as a general fiction finalist for the 2011 Book of the Year Award from ForeWord Reviews.
She’s currently working on her second novel which will be released in
the summer 2013. She lives in Upland, California, and when she’s not
writing, she’s cheering for her son in his athletic endeavors.
Thanks so much for letting me share I Am Lucky Bird with your followers, Nette! Much appreciated! Fleur
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