Our book team is happy that the Autism Society of Middle Tennessee has gotten a lotta mileage off our book featuring our area's special families living with the joys and challenges of autism.
The lights were off and the chirping cricket chorus was deafening. For a year, my dear publisher and collaborator-photographer and I had a serious disagreement with the charity benefiting from our book, From Heartache to Hope: Middle Tennessee Families Living with Autism. So, my promotion of the book and its' appearances in the author community was virtually nil. This followed a very successful year of generous television, newspaper and online press (thank you) and sales of all but a fifth of the coffee table book's inventory. But, baby, the fences have been mended and the lights are back on at LeisaHammett.com in regards to our book and I'm singing in the shower. Happy news is also that:
And, the Autism Society of Middle Tennessee continues to make creative use of Rebekah Pope's beautiful photographs of the special families whose stories graced our book. Despite our stalemate/disagreement, I continued to promote the good work of information and referral that they do...Principle before people. It's about helping people. ASMT is the go-to source for information and referrals about all-things autism in Middle Tennessee. As, well, I continued (and still do) to speak for ASMT for their parent portion of their (free) bi-monthly Autism Orientation. The next one is Thursday, May 17, 6:30p.m.-8:30 p.m., Vanderbilt Kennedy Center. All ties were not broken with this small, now burgeoning non-profit. So, I celebrate with ASMT, and as part of the general autism community, the goodwill of Chris and Dessie Bostick of Carnival Kia ("Don't You Leave Without Seeing Me") as the lead sponsors of ASMT's annual "Pieces of Hope Benefit" this year during April -- National Autism Awareness Month. See our book images here in their video:
Books are not Dead. Not in Nashville. But these Nashville purveyors will need us to help keep the heart of their stores beating. Same goes wherever you are reading this from--support your local bookstores, please. As an author, speaking for all authors, we need you to help us have local venues to sell our books, to read them to you, to meet you face-to-face. Much creative, sacrificial toil goes into writing books. Good art deserves monetary support from us all.
By the time you read this, I will have walked down the street and into Parnassus and finally purchased a copy of my Nashville friend Carson Morton's successtful Stealing Mona Lisa to give as a Christmas gift. And in this last year, I have ordered from Landmark Booksellers and I've not purchased any books from Amazon. (I don't hate Amazon. The giant has its' place. But really, what's happened in part is the Wal-mart-ization of the local book vendor. Think about it. The consequences of our choices here in Nashville were painful. They cost us our locally-owned bookstores!)
In my humble convicted state of remorse, a debt I owe to myself, to other authors and to these bold folks that dare to keep alive the art of reading "Real Books," is to buy local. I've been doing that with my books, much of my produce, my jewelry, my housewares and some of my clothing since coming back from the land of locavore champions in the Pacific Northwest, summer 2010. It is the right thing to do for the economy, for the environment, for our communities.
And here's another thought...Do we really need to purchase six books at a time for ourselves from the virtual store? Yes, via the monopoly, we can buy six for the price of sometimes just two. But, what if we purchased one or two at a time? Radical concept? How many of us (I'm raising my hand here) have stacks and stacks of unread books? What if we helped the local bookseller by buying what we can afford from their shelves versus "more" from The Big Guy that then gathers dust on our nightstands--? And, if for your wallet that means six at top price, got for it! Good for you!
We lost a lot last year in our dear city. Let's keep history from repeating itself. Join me, will you? See you between the bookshelves!
"Grief is that which surpasses words...the deepest groans of our hearts. But that grief can open us to the love that surpasses all. For as we are torn down by grief, we also are readied to be built up by love." -- Becky Fields Gore
Oh. Indeed. Just had to repeat such profundity and beauty here.
Gore and her family were featured in our book, From Heartache to Hope: Middle Tennessee Families Living with Autism. That's Gore and her son on the cover, above. This month marks the second anniversary of our book's publication. Gore's father, Tim Fields, a former colleague of mine 30 years back, was our publisher. (We found Gore first. Fields was a bonus addition. Huge.) A beautiful marriage of creative talent was our team, including photographer Rebekah Pope and designer Mary Sweeney of mSweeney Designs.
I'm working on book two, currently: The Journey with Grace: a mother's reflections on raising a daughter with autism. Stay tuned.
As you know, it's been an anniversary week for our Dear Country. A painful one. Like you, I indulged in some tender time travel. Again, on Tuesday morning I found myself paging and pondering through the memories of yesteryear. And then, it occurred to me. No wonder. No wonder--because two years ago, 9/11 was also the date that our book was due at the printers. We had padded our timeline so it was cool that we didn't make that date. But I remember it well. I got rear-ended by a sweet, young Episcopal priest that afternoon while driving Grace home from high school, where she was a freshman. While we waited and waited for the cop that never bothered to come, the kind, apologetic young man and I talked shop: the church and autism. I went the drive-thru on the way home and mindlessly consumed a hamburger, fries and a Coke. Huh? (Not in my usual culinary fare.)
Yesterday, for some reason, I called up our book's website, (thank you Misty Galyon!) and virtually thumbed through Rebekah Pope's beautiful pictures of special souls. I flipped to "Our Creative Team," pausing on each beautiful, smiling face--captured in Rebekah's beautiful, crisp black and white portraiture for which she is so gifted. Visually, I caressed each member with the fondness of my heart-felt love and bottomless appreciation....Together, two years ago this fall, we did this:
I'm proud. And, now, for the next chapter!: Tomorrow, my book mentor's in town from the fabulous far flung Portland, Ore. I'm not enrolled in MTSU's Writer's Loft this semester, but I'm still working with Charlotte Rains Dixon. (She's available for coaching and FANTASTIC!) So, I "hit the book," again next week: The Journey with Grace. Keep reading here and wish me a huge dousing down pour of heavenly inspiration. And, thanks so much for your support via Facebook, comments on the blog here, (more, more, please!); plus your kind and thoughtful email responses to me.
Almost forgot to mention that I'm also pulling back on track, with some techno-learning-curve help along with somefriends to birth that aforementioned FREE e-book in the meantime. Woo-hoo! (Or, Choo-Choo, here I come! And, yes, I know I'm corny. Blush.)
So: What creative projects are you proud of and what are you working on, dear readers? Tell me, tell me!
Funny how life works. Meeting friends and friends of friends for drinks led to a lead of a local photographer who photographs special needs children. That's how I first met Nashville native Rebekah Pope in Fall 2008 when she did a portrait session with my daughter, who has autism. Little did I know then that my decade-long dream of writing and producing a coffee table book about families who live with autism would culminate in a "yes," after many polite rejections from other local photographers with whom I'd inquired the previous two years. A phone call to Rebekah, just before Christmas, that same year, led to a meeting in the new year of 2009. And, from that meeting sprung-forth, From Heartache to Hope:Middle Tennessee Families Living with Autism, which benefited the Autism Society of Middle Tennessee, and would set in motion a whirlwind project that produced a book and a video within an unheard of nine months from conception to printer. Eighteen Middle Tennessee families and nearly 40 volunteers came together to support myself, Rebekah, publisher Tim Fields of Fields Publishing, Inc., and designer Mary Sweeney of mSweeney design.
While Rebekah's bread and butter is child and family portraiture, this, below, is where her passion penetrates her camera lens. I am blessed to have come to know and befriend this quiet woman, so opposite of me in personality. Rebekah is also a woman of deep kindness and possesses great reservoirs of earnest, sincere Christian faith. And, she actually lives out that faith. I am proud to call her a colleague and friend and share again here with you her work.
This image above was photographed in Warsaw. Rebekah will be exhibiting additional black & white photos taken during recent years in various international locations plus the American West. The photos were each hand-printed in the traditional wet darkroom on silver gelatin fiber-based paper. (Can you say "lost art?") Says Rebekah: "What pulls all the different images together is my style of imagery which is more pictoral, soft imagery."
See Rebekah's work, once again, at the Gordon Jewish Community Center, in west Nashville, Thursday, June 2, 7-9 p.m. Joining Rebekah in this exhibit are artists Mark Shinkarev and Kristen Llamas. (Rebekah and I participated in two From Heartache to Hope related events at the GJCC where new-ish gallery director, artist, performer friend Carrie Mills is rocking the place with visual art each month!)
The above is an except from the back cover of It's a Book. The short story's dialogue takes place between a mouse, a monkey and a donkey. Rather than kiddos, however, this children's book is more pointedly, in my opinion, for adults, like me, bemoaning the technological degradation of the comforting, old-fashioned, non-electronic words on paper.
Rushing out of Borders, yesterday, (yes, I know that's part of the problem,) I couldn't resist picking up and purchasing this little BOOK by award-winning children's book author and illustrator, Lane Smith. While so much of book-loving society seems blase to the plight of publishing and authors' work in print, gutted for electronic mass dissemination, in his author's biography, Smith subtly and not so subtly--by capitalizing BOOK each time he sites his impressive resume of published credits--notes that not only is he an author of BOOKs but also an illustrator.
Tell me fans of electronic book media: Can you really enjoy illustration via a computer like you can on pages held in the palms of your hands? I think about our book, From Heartache to Hope, designed as an art documentary black-and-white photography coffee table book. (Photography by Rebekah Pope.) While photography can be appreciated online, can it sit on your coffee table to be admired repeatedly for years to come? What's next? Do away with art museums and/or project art on a screen instead?
Oh, yes. I do get it. My daughter's artwork is on a website for mass dissemination and marketing, and I think that's great. Yes, there is a place for the electronic dissemination of books. But at what cost? At what cost to the ART of print on paper?
I appreciate that although Smith, in his blog post on the creation of It's a Book, acknowledges that his art is somewhat also analog, he is necessarily keeping with the times in having a blog and a video, above. I wrote about the necessity of authors publicizing electronically via social media here.
More on Lane Smith's thoughts behind It's a Book, on his bloghere. (His sentiments are not as vehement as mine.) More on his illustrations at his enchanting illustration blog. Looking at his illustration blog, I became wistful, longing again to read children's books. Which, of course, despite that I have a 16-year-old, I can still read them. Also, check out these two friends' blogs that include posts about children's books: Autism Reads and Toothwhale.
[Since I originally authored this, I heard a panel discussion on publishing where it was shared that already books are being designed to be interactive on e-reader devices, especially the I-Pad. Our jobs as authors. Just. Got. Harder. Dang.]
At last, the Nashville theater premiere of "The Horse Boy" occurs Tuesday, Sept. 28, 6:30, Sarratt Cinema at Vanderbilt University. John Shouse and I will be on a panel following to discuss the impact of autism on families. The initial debut was cancelled twice due to Nashville's traumatic spring weather events. My review, which was initially published here, April 21, follows below.
A British human rights journalist and horse trainer, his American wife--a university professor of psychology--and their son with autism "do something crazy." They travel across the world and ride horseback across Mongolia seeking a shamanic healing....Fodder for a work of fiction. Only, it is the true story of a central Texas family.
The story of Rupert Isaacson, Kristen Neff and their son, Rowan, has been circling the greater autism internet ethers for nearly three years, having received considerable press--first for the book, The Horse Boy, then the movie. The later was considered for last year's, Nashville Film Festival before it was pulled from consideration due to being temporarily considered by a major film production house. At that time, I was working as a volunteer liaison between the Autism Society of Middle Tennessee and the film festival regarding the film possibly showing here. The festival eventually brought in, instead, Autistic-Like. The Festival graciously granted ASMT an option of eschewing any film if we felt it was too "out there." And, "The Horse Boy," to me, seemed a candidate for "out there." But, I knew to remain open and that every message about autism means another opportunity for greater public awareness.
What concerned me about the film is what I judged as the far-fetched premise of taking a child "far and away" (the original book title) to receive shamanic cleansing by tribal people. While I wanted to remain open to the premise, in 13 years, as any parent on the autism journey, I've seen my share of magical-miracle cures ranging from shadow therapy, hugging therapy, ionic foot baths to gummy bear vitamins. Just to name a few. Seriously. I thought I'd seen it all. (While most of these may prove beneficial to some children, generally I don't believe in magic-pill cures for the brain-based highly enigmatic and complex disorder.)
I make no bones on my blog and elsewhere that I'm about Acceptance. The beautiful thing about "The Horse Boy," in all it's oddity of plot, is, too, about Acceptance. It is a tale of an extraordinary journey of two deeply, loving, tremendously patient parents desperate to help their son. It is a far-flung venture to seek a shift. Change does happen, but not only to Rowan but to the hearts of his special parents.
From the start, a handsome, muscular, long-hippie-haired Isaacson, whose British accent narrates the film, states his family had tried everything to help their son's "inconsolable tantrums," his "emotional and physical incontinence" and his social isolation and the rest of his severe case of autism. The list includes all things Western; behavioral therapies, "diets, pills, creams."
At the eve of five years of age, Rowan's tantrums were worsening. Then, one day, Rowan ran from his father into a neighbor's yard and approached a large mare. While Isaacson was a former horse trainer, he had purposely not introduced his son to horses because of Rowan's tantrums. But around and during and after riding the horse, Rowan became still and peaceful and previously un-forthcoming language erratically spewed.
Resourceful and highly creative, Isaacson brainstormed and researched cultures that combined healing with horses. He had been exposed in his days as a documentary journalist to indigenous tribes that practiced shamanism. His search led him to the outer reaches of Mongolia, where the horse was first domesticated and tribes of shamans worked with the large animals.
The family returned cleansed from their month long adventure, which viewers travel with them--across ruggedly picturesque and heart-breaking-ly beautiful mountainous terrain beneath skies stretching into forever. And, watching "The Horse Boy," I, too, felt a palpable sense of release. Tears came to the surface several times for me as I watched Rowan struggle, his parent's struggle....At the immensity of the small family's love and the incredible emotional investment in this unknown journey of faith.
In the end, the family returns admitting they did not find a cure for autism, but Rowan did experience a considerable shift with some crucial behavior and bodily functioning issues. Likewise, his parents also experienced a fundamental shift.
At their first introduction, the addition of talking heads interspersed in the documentary seemed awkward. Four keen experts of autism, including Temple Grandin, Simon Baron-Cohen, and in my opinion, the star expert--anthropologist and father Richard Grinker (author of Unstrange Minds), inject their perspective about autism throughout the film. But, instead of being an oddity, in the end, their testimony enhances the filmmaker's message.
Their take home message is a dream for those of us living with this disorder who want the world to understand our children and older loved ones--and, in understanding them, to recognize their important contributions and place in our world. I consider myself a veteran on this journey. Yet, I was surprised by the insight I gained from all of those highlighted in this film.
The journey that this small Texas family took is odd, wild and mystical. They return unable to peg what exactly happened and why or what worked. But they know that they came back with a gift of truly appreciating their son for his differences. It is a beautiful theme woven in to this intense film.
Today, the couple run a therapeutic horseback program in central Texas called The Horse Boy Foundation.
*At the suggestion of ITVS coordinator, Allison Inman, I initially placed a "spoiler alert" at the start of this post. I cannot say enough good things about this movie. But, I also was initially hesitant about the film and know well in the Bible Belt South as well in the autism community culture where we are bombarded with cure du jour, viewers might easily dismiss this film because of the plot--traveling to a foreign country, equine therapy and shamanism. I wanted to allay any fears that this movie fulfilled any of those stereotypes or would be overly disturbing to anyone holding such concerns. I later removed this alert when feedback from several readers assured me I didn't "spoil" anything and gave readers further reason to see this film.
Seventy-five percent of special needs families who would attend a faith community do not because they've been asked to leave, lack physical access, have been scorned...the list goes on. Fortunately, more faith communities have realized that one in 100 children have autism, plus other disAbilities and that includes their members.
From Heartache to Hope, our art documentary photography coffee-table book, tells the stories of 18 families living with autism in Middle Tennessee. Country, contemporary Christian singer and songwriter, Tammy Vice is one of these families, and helping faith communities "embrace all God's people" is one of her life missions. Tammy, who is also an Autism Society of Middle Tennessee (ASMT) parent representative and I will be serving on a panel sponsored by the Jewish Family Service and the Gordon Jewish Communty Center (GJCC) addressing the issue of "Inclusitivity of People with Disabilities in Faith Communities" on Tuesday, Sept. 21 at 7 p.m.
The 21 photographs, including the one from our book cover, above, are on display at the GJCC gallery until September 30.
On Tuesday, Sept. 28, "The Horseboy" will show at the Vanderbilt Sarratt Center at 6:30. ASMT board member, John Shouse, also featured in From Heartache to Hope, will appear on a family discuss with me, autism and families after the movie. (The Nashville premiere of the movie was cancelled in late April and then early May due to traumatic weather events here.)
Our book did not receive grant funding for a second printing, so our team anticipates that these will be the last of our events. It's been a great ride. Thanks to all for your support and hope to see you at the above events.
