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About Karen White
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Blog postMy children have just returned to college after their month-long holiday breaks. It was good having them home again, but it’s also nice to have my clean and quiet house back. And not have to dodge two extra cars when pulling my car out of the garage. Now that I’m back into my routine, I’m hoping to also rebuild a little of my self-esteem. There’s something about living with teenagers and twenty-somethings that make me feel as old and creaky as the houses I write about.
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Blog postBREAKING UP IS HARD TO DO
I’m a middle child. This means avoiding conflict has been a skill I’ve spent decades honing. I was always the child selected to sit in the middle of the backseat between my two brothers on those long summer vacation car rides. Because my father was one of those people who believed that using air conditioning was bad for his gas mileage, the temperature in the car usually hovered just above spontaneous combustion. Heat fueled my brother -
Blog postI’m on deadline. Besides meaning that I’ve got about 400 more pages to write in a two and a half months, it also means that I haven’t showered since yesterday, I’m dressing like a homeless woman, and if I don’t wash my hair soon my dog will start complaining. Welcome to the glamorous life of an author.
How did this happen? Well, I was on book tour this summer for 6 weeks to promote my first hardcover, THE TIME BETWEEN. Fun and glamorous (for the most part) sure -
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Blog postI recently read an article about a woman who’d climbed Mt. Everest. Her mantra before and during this amazing feat: “Eat the elephant one bite at a time.” I didn’t really pay much attention to it at first, at least not until later in the morning when I sat down in front of a blinking cursor on a blank page and contemplated writing my next book—all four hundred and fifty manuscript pages of it. And that’s when I understood exactly what that mountain climber had meant. <
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Blog postWhen seen from space, the road of my writing journey closely resembles the curvy shoreline of the Gulf Coast—starting as far south as a person can go, heading north for a ways, sidetracked by an abrupt left turn, a bumpy stretch, then a dip south again, before—bam!—out to sea with a full sail.
The funny thing is, I never wanted to be a writer. I’ve been a voracious reader since I discovered Nancy Drew, but I never wanted to actually write. My brain was always on page three -
Blog post(Reprint from She Reads Blog–6/27/13)
One of my favorite movies of all time is Steel Magnolias. Not just because of the excellent title or the Louisiana setting, or even because of the terrific female actors or even the beautiful story of the connection we have with friends and family. I love it because of its mix of humor and grief, of good things and bad things; because I laughed as much as I cried while watching it (and continue to do so even after having watched i -
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Blog postTo most people, I’m Karen White, the writer. To my family, I’m Mom, errand-girl, organizer of all things family-related, and repository of all teenaged angst. To my dog, I’m everything. Seen through his sweet eyes, I hung the sun and the moon. Which is why I allow him to stay despite such habits as shredding tissues from the garbage can and distributing the tiny pieces throughout the house. But I digress.
I’m also a musician. My grand -
Blog postWhen I was a little girl, my father’s job has us moving all over the world about every two years. I loved the experience of meeting new people and making a new house a home. I actually thrived on it. But what I didn’t like was leaving behind the friends I’d made. Luckily, back then things called “hand-written letters”, “postage stamps,” and “mailboxes” existed, which allowed me to keep in constant contact with a growing number of friends. Sort of an
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Blog postTuesday, June 4th, 6:30PM
Book Exchange
2956 Canton Road
Marietta, GA 30066
Wednesday, June 5th, 6:30PM
Foxtale Book Shoppe
105 E. Main Street
#138
Woodstock, GA 30188
Thursday, June 6th, 7:00PM
Bookmiser
4651 Sandy Plains Rd.
Suite 106
Roswell, GA 30075
Friday, June 7th, 1:00PM
Atlanta International Airport
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Blog postAt the tender age of thirteen, a story I’d written and submitted for my school’s esteemed literary magazine was rejected. Not sent back for revision, or deferred for a later edition. Rejected. Having (erroneously so, apparently) imagined myself to be quite the little miss wordsmith, it was humiliating. Especially when Diana B., the girl who loved to torment me, smugly told me that her story had been accepted. Doubly humiliating.
As I write this, I’m in th -
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