Judy Larsen's Backstory

When I was a kid, I was never a big fan of disaster movies. At first I thought I was too squeamish, and then when I was in high school and college, I fancied myself as too intellectual. What I finally realized is that it had nothing to do with being a sissy (unless snakes were involved. Then all bets were off) or feeling superior to the masses (I am an unabashed fan of Survivor and Amazing Race but draw the line at other reality TV.). The reason I don’t like blockbuster disaster movies is they always end too soon. Here’s what I mean—the ship sinks, the tornado hits, the earthquake lets half the US fall into the ocean, the world explodes--and then the credits roll. I always wanted the next reel. The “then what?”

The essence of my novel, ALL THE NUMBERS is rooted both in my fascination of how ordinary people survive disasters (what the directors never showed me in their movies) and the fears that I think every parent has, shoved as far below the surface as we can push them, but present nonetheless. Now that my children are older, I’m past worrying about SIDS, but now worry about their driving and them being out in the world. And I think, please don’t let the phone ring after 11 p.m. because that’s never good. And I worry that, if it does ring, what would I do next? And then I look at parents who have gotten that phone call, and I am in awe that they can even function on the most basic levels. I clearly ignored my writing instructors who told me to “write what you know” switching it to “write what you fear.”

Its plot line came to me at my friend Patty’s lake house while we sat on the dock sipping wine, relaxing, and watching our kids play in the lake. As jet skiers buzzed just beyond them I thought: what if? What if one of the kids was out just a bit too deep? What if one of the jet skiers lost control? And, so it all played out in my mind, like memories unfolding as they happened. Even before I knew the whole plot, I had a clear image of the final painful, but redemptive, scene.

So, I spent a year thinking and wondering and jotting down notes that would eventually turn into pages, but I never lost sight of that final scene.

For me, those universal fears of all parents first bubbled to the surface the night, four weeks before his due date, that my oldest son was born by emergency caesarean section. Up until the last twenty minutes of it, my pregnancy had been textbook perfect. I’d eaten cottage cheese by the bucketful and not a drop of caffeine or wine had crossed my lips. I’d exercised the appropriate amount, put my feet up when necessary, and taken my vitamins. But still, in spite of my care, with no warning, we both nearly died because my placenta separated from the uterine wall. Nothing could have prevented it; nothing could have predicted it. And I learned one of the immutable truths of parenting--no matter how cautious, loving, protective and concerned we are, no matter how long we breastfeed, how many books we read aloud, or how much we limit TV time, bad things can happen. And then what?

When I forced myself to imagine the worst, I always wondered if I would rise to the occasion or sink into the abyss. When I explored these possibilities through Ellen--who is sarcastic and impatient and cluttered--and madly in love with her kids, I tried to be as fair as I could. I wanted her to eventually rise to the occasion (as I hoped I would), but not until she had wallowed in the depths (as I knew I would).

No matter how mundane we think our lives are, many of us will face extraordinary events at least once in our lives. And when we do, it is easy to think, why me? I played by the rules, I’m not a bad person, so why this? Why the illness or the unfaithful spouse or the hurricane? When I read about mothers who have faced catastrophe, I always wish I could get a six-month follow-up. How’d they get out of bed the next day? How long before they started making supper? Did they ever genuinely laugh again?

These were the questions I tried to answer for myself through Ellen.

Find out more about Judy Larsen and her debut novel, All The Numbers.

Comments

[Missy]

Wow! I am definitely reading this book! I probably would have overlooked it had I not read the Backstory.