All 14-year-old Nick Zinsky wanted was a guitar of his own and a necklace for his mom, and he wanted to buy both on his own, without anyone's help. Too young to get a real job, he came up with a plan to get the money.
Using a guitar loaned from his high school, he spent the summer and weekends playing the guitar while busking downtown. But he had to keep his "job" a secret from everyone—from his mom, his music teacher, the other kids at school, and especially from the school bully, Beau.
But when a music competition is announced where the prizes would solve all Nick's problems, Nick lacks the confidence to enter the competition. Having a nickname like "Newbie Nick" doesn't help, either.
Does he find the courage to enter? Will he ever get his guitar?
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Interview:
1. I write because…What else am I gonna do? Sure I knit, but
writing is a creative outlet that has no pattern, no rules, and no boundaries.
I write to (hopefully) entertain, inspire, and to make others think. We all
have something to say – something to share – and writing is how I do both,
best. When I was once told an article I wrote helped that person (it was a
slice-of-life, inspirational article on depression), I knew what I was meant to
do. My words, my work, helped someone,
and from then on, I knew why I had to keep writing – no matter what.
2. If I were your favorite cookie, what would I be? Chocolate chip. Good ‘ole tried-and-true.
Can’t go wrong with that?
3. Plotter or pantster? A bit of both, but mostly pantster.
I need the freedom to let the story go where it will. Sure, there has to be a
bit of framework, but I just….go.
4. What is your favorite type of character to write about
and why? For my teen books, I love to write about a good guy who has just had
his world turned upside down, he toys with a dark side, but learns right from
wrong and comes out a better good guy – but with an edge.
5. Hamburgers or sushi? I love both. I love the good ‘ole
tried-and-true hamburger (just like a chocolate chip cookie), but sometimes I
need a bit of an adventure – sushi gives me that.
6. Name three things on your desk. Post-it notes and pen, my
cell phone, my watch (because I can’t write with my watch on)
7. What books have influenced your writing style? Young adult books Janet Gurtler and Susane
Colasanti, as well as women’s contemporary
by Marian Keyes, Sophie Kinsella (I love humour)
8. Tell us a little about your book. Blurb: When
14-year-old Nick Zinsky secretly busks for money on the downtown streets, he
soon learns that keeping his "job" a secret is harder than he
thought.
All 14-year-old Nick Zinsky wanted was a guitar of
his own and a necklace for his mom, and he wanted to buy both on his own,
without anyone's help. Too young to get a real job, he came up with a plan to
get the money.
Using a
guitar loaned from his high school, he spent the summer and weekends playing
the guitar while busking downtown. But he had to keep his "job" a
secret from everyone—from his mom, his music teacher, the other kids at school,
and especially from the school bully, Beau.
But when a
music competition is announced where the prizes would solve all Nick's
problems, Nick lacks the confidence to enter the competition. Having a nickname
like "Newbie Nick" doesn't help, either.
Does he find the courage to enter? Will he ever get his guitar?
9. What advice do you have for new and aspiring authors? If
you want something bad enough, you’ll do it - no matter what. No matter who
tries to bring you down; no matter what the ‘next guy’ is doing. Fear is the
biggest obstacle – if you can beat it, and you will if you want something bad
enough (starting/finishing a book, sending it out, starting a new projection
despite ‘rejection’) – you can do anything. Just take a deep breath and dive
in.
10. What is next on your writerly horizon? I just finished
another novella for teens about a high school guy, Luke Hannon, who, upon
dealing with the aftermath of his girlfriend’s attempted suicide, questions
loyalty – from friends and teachers, and most of himself.
Top 5 favorite (pick one) desserts, movies, things to eat,
ice cream flavors, books. Top five
books: Marian Keyes ‘Under the Duvet’ anthologies; Sophie Kinsella’s ‘Can You Keep a Secret’; Janet Gurtler’s ‘If
I tell’; Jane Eyre; and the thesaurus (yes, the thesaurus).
Excerpt:
"Whatcha
doin'?"
I stopped
playing and looked up. Even though I was wearing sunglasses, I had to shield my
eyes against the sun.
It was that
little girl again.
"I'm
playing the guitar." I wasn't about to be a rude jerk to her, but I didn't
have much time to talk. She hung around me yesterday, but was too shy to talk.
Her dad, or uncle, or whoever from the shop next to me kept a watchful eye on
her, peeking out the store door every few minutes.
I figured if
I ignored her, she would go away. Traffic wasn't busy on the street, which
meant less noise, but the sidewalks were busy with tourists and shoppers. If I
was gonna make some decent cash today, I needed to keep playing, but not with
the attention of a little kid.
I had just
started strumming, remembering how my grandpa taught me to place my fingers,
when she spoke again.
"Why are
you playing?" she sing-songed. Her whiny voice bugged me.
How do you
explain being a street busker to a kid who looks like a kindergartener?
As she picked
her nose, some guy threw a dollar into my guitar case.
"Thank
you!" I called out.
Some might
laugh at getting only a dollar, but it all adds up. Not only was I saving money
for a sleek guitar for me, but also a necklace for my mom. And I didn't
consider what I had been doing all summer as charity. She always worked hard
for us, and taking nothing for herself. I wanted to do this for her and was
determined to do it all on my own, without help. I worked for every dime I got.
My mom always says money doesn't matter when you have people in your life that
care as much as they do. Whatever.
I looked at
the little girl, stalling to think about how to answer.
"Jessica,
are you okay?" Her father or uncle or whoever called from the store.
"I'm
fine, Daddy!"
Oh, so that's
her dad. When I first started coming downtown at the beginning of summer, he
would scowl at me from the store's doorway. I was afraid he would call the
police, but he didn't. I always try to move spots, but there are only so many
sidewalks I can use. I have to be seen and heard, but I also have to be careful
to not be seen by anyone I know.
Her dad went
back inside. Jessica was still waiting, so I gave the easiest answer. "I
want to buy a guitar and one day play like my grandpa."
"Whyyyy?"
This time she sat down on the sidewalk beside me.
I strummed a
few chords. The people passing by ignored us. I was losing business chatting
with her. I figured I would just get my story out quick. I knew she wouldn't
care and probably wouldn't tell anyone. And besides, a little twerp like her
wouldn't understand, anyways.
Sweat
dribbled down my back, and I knew the peanut butter and jam sandwich in my
backpack was gonna be warm and soggy.
I looked at
her again. "Because he was the best guitarist ever. He was a music teacher
and taught me how to play when I was a little kid like you." Before I knew
it, I was babbling on. "If I want play like him, to be like him, I need my
own guitar."
I barely
registered that someone had thrown in a few coins in my case as I kept talking.
"Someone stole his old guitar from my grandma's house, and I haven't been
able to play unless I borrow a guitar from school. So I want my own." I
stopped. Why had I gone on and on like that?
"Doesn't
he play the guitar anymore?" she asked, as if I hadn't rambled on about
any of the other stuff.
"He died
a while ago." And I miss him so much, I wanted to
add, but didn't. I didn't want to sound like a freak, even if only to a stupid
little kid.
"Is he
in heaven?" She looked fearful for a second.
"Yes, he
is," I said, and she sagged in relief, as if worried he wasn't.
She picked at
a worn edge of the guitar case, looked at the money inside, and then said,
"Why don't you work at a store to get money? If you have a store like my
daddy, you could make lots of money!"
She was
really starting to get on my nerves, though I couldn't blame her for my
frustrations. I strummed again. After being without a guitar for a year, not
only had I gotten rusty and lost my touch, but I had forgotten how playing made
any mixed-up feelings disappear.
But it was
missing my grandpa that had me wanting to play again. My grade nine music
teacher, Shark, had loaned me a guitar for practicing on the weekends. He knew
my mom couldn't afford to rent one. But it wasn't enough for me. I wanted my
own. I hated not having something to play during the week, and I hated feeling
like a charity case and borrowing one.
So when
summer came, Shark secretly loaned me the guitar for the summer. The school
wouldn't approve if they knew. Even though having a guitar with Mattheson High
School in black ink down the side of it wasn't exactly cool, at least I could
play. But if Shark knew what I had also used the guitar for, I don't think he
would exactly approve either.
Jessica still
watched me. Waiting.
I gave in.
"I can't get a job because I'm fourteen, almost fifteen,” I was quick to
add. “Maybe next year I can get a real job. But for now, my mom won't let me.
She says school is too important." Just thinking about it was starting to
irritate me. I had to get rid of the kid somehow.
In a nice,
fake, happy voice I said, "Hey, I think your dad is calling you. I think
you better go now."
At the
mention of her dad, her eyes widened and she jumped up. She stared at me for a
moment, and then skipped away. Thank God.
A leaf fell
at my feet, reminding me I didn't have much time left. Soon the crappy autumn
rains would start, and my days of busking downtown would be over, along with
days of making money. If I wanted to play, if I wanted a guitar of my own, I
had to make money. I had already put down $50 toward theperfect
guitar I had on layaway at Mike's Music store, but I had a long way to go. It
was a vicious circle—playing a guitar to make money to play a guitar. It
sounded stupid thinking about it that way, but it was true.
But none of
that mattered right at that moment.
Because as I
looked up, I saw him. My sweat from the summer sun turned to ice.
It was that stupid jerk, Beau, from school.
About the
author:
Like many
authors, Lisa McManus started writing at a young age. When she was nine-years
old she wrote a sci-fi/horror story about an acid-spewing spider that attacked
her in her sleep—it would be her first and last story for many years. Although
the story was never published and eventually met its fate in the garbage dump
(paper recycling wasn't around back then), the seed was sown.
Her love of
books started when her dad read her The Bobbsey Twins At Big
Bear Pond when was too little for such big novels. Within time it was Judy Blume who kept her
up well past her bedtime—"Just one more chapter!" An outgoing teen by
nature yet a reclusive bookworm at heart, her summers were spent on her back
porch reading everything from Nancy Drew to Sweetdreams teen romances (it was
the 80's!), to Agatha Christie and Danielle Steele. Her library card took a
beating—the path to the Richmond Public Library in Richmond, BC was well worn.
Although not
very academic and not destined for the accelerated classes in school, some teachersomewhere
along the way must have seen something in her homework for in grade eight, and
much to her surprise, Lisa was placed in an advanced English class—with all the
"smart kids." There she stayed for the rest of her high school years:
dissecting novels, conjugating verbs, and writing essays—which she all secretly
loved. She won an award for best poem in grade 12.
But the
writing bug hadn't bitten her, yet.
Soon married
life and motherhood became her world, but books were still her passion and
escape during those busy years. Then, eventually, her deep-seated
writing-spirit finally surfaced when her second son was two years old. A
slice-of-life story she wrote on a whim was accepted in a local parenting
magazine. The call from the editor is something she will never forget.
And from
there it started.
Multi-published
in magazines locally and internationally, as well as in numerous anthologies
such asChicken Soup for the Soul under the
name Lisa McManus Lange, her slice-of-life stories of humour, wit and
inspiration have been drawn from the world around her.
As a mother
to two teen boys, it only made sense to write for kids and young adults—but it
took her a while figure it out. It was only upon reading countless young adult
novels in recent years - stories that speak to her teenage self - that she
started to find her place in the fiction writing world. With a nudge from a
fellow young adult author, she wrote Newbie Nick, a novel geared towards 12–15 year olds.
While
juggling her family of three men, her office job and her writing world, she
also blogs at www.lisamcmanuslange.blogspot.com. You can find info about
her young adult books at www.lisamcmanus.com or write her at
lisamc2010@yahoo.ca
Email: lisamc2010@yahoo.ca
Website: http://www.lisamcmanus.com
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