Author spotlight, courtesy of author Lara Henley

Author Lara Henley has chosen me to be featured in the "author spotlight" section of her website! Since my turn only lasts 3 weeks, I'm posting the interview here:

Brief biography:

 

Caplin was born in Connecticut as Sarah Elizabeth Caplin, and legally changed her name to Sarahbeth at the age of 22, thinking it would look more distinctive on future book covers. Now unofficially known as “Beth,” she grew up outside of Cleveland, Ohio, and has a bachelor’s degree in English Literature from Kent State University. It was during college that she first saw her name in print as a columnist for her campus newspaper, The Daily Kent Stater. Within a year after graduation, her memoir Confessions of a Prodigal Daughter was self-published through Halo International. Within that same year, her second book, Someone You Already Know, was also released through Halo. In 2013 Caplin switched to Createspace, from which Public Displays of Convention and Sorting Myself: a collection of poetry were released. Now living in Denver, Colorado, Caplin can be found in various microbreweries when not chained to her laptop working on future books.

What was the first story you ever wrote?

Probably around the age of 6, I wrote my mom a crayon-and-construction-paper “book” called Why Kids Love Their Moms: about a little girl who ran away from home after her mom punished her, only to realize her mom loves her after all.

 

What genre do you write? 

My first book was a memoir, because several people kept asking me to explain how a girl who grows up Jewish ends up choosing to be Christian. It started as a long essay, but then I figured I might as well publish it. My comfort zone right now is YA fiction, and I’m always trying out different story angles. My most recently published book is a small collection of poetry, which I used to write all the time, but lately not as much. Most of the poems are from college.

 

What inspires you to write? 

Honestly? Being angry. My first novel is about two teenage girls who are affected by rape culture in different ways, so if something upsets me, it’s extremely likely to end up in a book. I like stories that make a point, but aren’t necessarily pushing an agenda.

 

Are you working on something new at the moment? 

My fifth book, but third attempt at a novel, is inspired by a true story of a pastor who is hailed as a hero for saving a teenage girl from a burning building, but no one knows that he was in the building in the first place because he was having an affair. It’s my first time writing in 3rd-person POV and it focuses mostly on the teenage girl, who has issues of her own.

 

What should readers be on the lookout for? 

My stories tend to be heavy, but I’ve been told they make readers think. There are always lots of layers and difficult situations to consider. My next novel shows the ugly side of evangelical Christianity, which lots of readers will probably resonate with. The cast of characters are mostly unlikeable, but they change and grow when confronted with their hypocritical tendencies.

What are your dreams and aspirations?

In a perfect dream world, I’d love to be a New York Times best-selling author one day. More realistically, I’d like to earn enough with my writing to pay rent. Hell, even just the groceries. I wanted to be famous as a kid, but the older I get, the less important that becomes. What matters most to me now is building my relationship with my readers. I love getting feedback, good or bad, and I love when people engage with me via blog posts and updates on my Facebook page. I learn a lot from my target audience: twenty-somethings (mostly women) trying to find themselves, with colorful pasts.

Do you have any tips for aspiring writers?

You have to be patient in order to build a loyal following of readers. It can take several books to accomplish that. Also, start marketing your book well before it’s published. The fan base won’t appear out of nowhere once the book is released. Take advantage of every social media platform that’s out there and start engaging with your target audience. “Please buy my book!!” has helped no one. Lastly, never write expecting to make a ton of money.

I guess I don't have to be famous after all

It’s that time again. The time when I’m just about ready to click that “publish” button for a fourth time, and I’ll tell you: the rush never changes. It’s exciting. It’s empowering.

But it’s also a moment that calls for some self-evaluation. After all, it’s my fourth book. My fourth book at the age of 25, and I have yet to be named, let alone considered, as a best-selling author in any notable book review journal. So am I doing okay? Am I doing anything right at all?

What’s the point of asking these questions, anyway?

I created something I love, and am proud to have my name on. That’s what matters. The small circle of “fans” (that feels slightly pretentious) I’ve acquired are not part and parcel of this whole author experience: they are earned. And their reviews tell me that they appreciate my work not because I’m a hot new name in fiction, but because they connect with my stories. They recognize themselves in them.

That’s what matters.

But I’m someone who has wanted to be famous her entire life. There’s still a part of me that looks at my sales, my number of Twitter followers, compares them to those of other indie authors, and thinks I’m not doing enough. However, there’s a huge difference between putting work out there to be noticed, and putting work out there to say something real. If my only desire is to be noticed, to become some sort of household name, then I will always be disappointed, because there will always be someone else topping new charts that didn’t exist yesterday, selling more copies, and gaining more Twitter followers.

It’s funny how you can find a high school-style hierarchy in just about any occupation or hobby: no matter what you do, you will always, at some point, feel like a geek while someone else is being crowned prom queen. Well, the latest New York Times best-seller is the prom queen. I guess that makes me a mathlete or something?

I’m in the process of re-evaluating the real reasons I want to be famous. Not can’t-buy-toilet-paper-without-paparazzi-snapping-my-picture famous, but…famous. Significant. No, more like an important historic figure. Someone to be read about in history books, not People magazine.

And the more I think about it, the more I understand that my reasons for desiring fame are kind of stupid. I’m not “that special” of a person. I’m just a woman with something to say. So I write it down, publish it, and am blessed by the handful of reviews from people who tell me that they see their own stories in my work. I’ve made a few new friends out of this journey into publishing; friends I wouldn’t have met any other way, because they are as close as Philadelphia and as far away as England. They aren’t established critics, but they are people whose voices matter just as much as my own. And when they tell me that something I wrote resonated with them, it means the world.

And that is why I continue to write. Fame or no fame, I think I’m doing okay for myself.

Why I choose to be a "dark writer"

For my first post of 2014, I am introducing my newest book baby, due sometime next month. Sorting Myself, my first attempt at publishing poetry, may be my "darkest" book next to Someone You Already Know. You really can't get much darker than rape culture, and that subject does spill over into this new book (among other topics, such as religion, relationships, self-discovery, etc).

I learned early on that I write best when I get angry, and over the last few months of 2013, I saw plenty of things to get angry about. You could say that hell hath no fury on the creative drive of an angry woman. Happiness, in my case, doesn't do much for my productivity level at all.

I'm obviously far from the only writer with dark muses. Gillian Flynn is quickly becoming my new favorite "dark author," and some of the downright gritty imagery she uses makes me wonder about the kind of person she is in real life. People I've never met could be wondering the same thing if they happen to pick up this book, and come to some very false conclusions about my character. So really, how much can readers judge a person based on what they write about?

I suppose part of that answer lies in the reason someone writes in the first place. Some do it for money (crazy, I know). Some because they have something important to say (I'd like to think I'm one of those people). I think that my "writer's mojo" is making art out of crappy situations; the issues that make readers shudder are the ones that truly show what it means to be human.

Of course, others write purely for the fun of it. Their books are a means to escape, and meant to be read some place idyllic like the beach. That's okay too. But that's not the kind of writing that shows what I'm made of.

Sorting Myself is going be a very short book compared to my previous ones. You can enter my giveaway on Goodreads from now until March 1st.

If a man opened Pandora's box

What if the gender roles were reversed, and suddenly,
the world was no longer a safe place

for men?

What if a male stranger should fear me

on the streets at night,

the New Female Predator,

and his gut instinct
was to gird his balls

like women do with their attractiveness,

so as not to make himself
a target?

What if men were taught

that Fear is the new Sexy,

that involuntary arousal

is code for "Yes Please,"

and his gender alone

is his own personal Armageddon?

What if it had been
a man

who opened Pandora's box?

After being hit on at Barnes & Noble

I received a compliment

(or something resembling one)

between the aisles of Poetry and Fiction

at Barnes & Noble, from a wannabe representative of Smooth Talkers Anonymous:

Far too pretty to be reading books.

I wonder how many tragic young women,

digging through Plath and Dickinson

in search of validation, would allow themselves to be flattered by this drivel?

How many would allow this blatant chauvinism

to infiltrate their hard-won rooms of their own?

I think of my teenage self,

curve-less and wiry-haired,

unpopular, yet proud to admit
that the love of my life is named Gilbert,
and you may not have heard of him
because he lives in a book.

Therein was the real reason I was single
for so long, but nonetheless satisfied

with who I was. I saw the world through fiction,

allowing me to avoid the real-life villains

with the hope that,

if characters are created by humans,

surely they can be embodied by
real humans, too.

"Too pretty" to be reading books,
you say?

Too bad.

The most attractive man (I think)

is a man well-read.

The male privilege poem

Another excerpt from the upcoming book. One of my favorites so far!

"Why don't you smile?"
the man at Starbucks said.
"I bet you have such a pretty smile."

This, from a complete stranger,
who knows not my circumstances,
my private battles,
my very life.

I gape at him and his broad shoulders,
and his condescending "Because I can" veneer.
Please, I think, Contain your male privilege,
its crumby texture already snowflaking
on my table. Let me enjoy my coffee.

Also! Here's a preview of my snazzy new cover (the back cover text may change 50 more times before I declare it finished. Hard to accurately summarize a collection of poems when the subject matter is all over the place). My new designer, Amy Queau, did this for FREE and she is a special kind of wonderful.

The Jewish Girl Who Dreamed of Saints

The following poem is an excerpt from my upcoming book (more like a chapbook, since I anticipate it being less than 100 pages) of poetry, currently titled Sorting Myself. The title isn't set in stone, though. I had a really catchy title that came to me in the middle of the night, and I stupidly thought I'd remember it by morning...I didn't. So until it's recovered from my mental oblivion, or unless I come with something new, Sorting Myself stands. Reader suggestions welcome!

Most of the poems are already written, just scattered in various journals, and several years old. This one is pretty recent. Not sure when I'll release it, but definitely next year. Before the snow melts.

The Jewish Girl Who Dreamed of Saints (potentially autobiographical):

Don’t let the quietness fool you –

she’s a heroine in her own right.

Her life is defined by choice:

The right to fight for her own identity,

because the one she was born with didn’t fit.

She and convention were destined to be enemies.

It started with the storybooks about saints

wedged between Doctor Seuss and There’s No Such Thing as a Hanukkah Bush,

Sandy Goldstein.

Other girls played MASH at recess,

while she day-dreamed about Joan of Arc.

She wondered what it must have felt like,

about to be burned for her beliefs,

and if it ever crossed the future saint’s mind

that 20^th-century Jewish girls

would hope to be half as brave as she was someday.

As she grew older,

the girl lost her verve for sainthood.

She struggled with ordinary temptations.

Couldn’t decide if she was still a virgin.

Couldn’t allow herself the simple courtesy of being human.

The best books often get bent.

Even Saint Joan had to be vulnerable and lonely.