The Long Road to Publication, by Lisa Gruenberg ’07

My-City-of-Dreams-1Lisa Gruenberg is a physician, medical educator and writer based in Boston.  She has taught creative writing at the Karolinska Institute, the Asian University for Women, and Harvard Medical School. Her essays have been published in Ploughshares, Vital Signs, Hospital Drive, The Intima, a Journal of Narrative Medicine, and upcoming in The Michigan Quarterly Review. Her short story, Keiskamma, won the 2012 Artist Fellowship from the Massachusetts Cultural Council. Her memoir, My City of Dreams, will be released by TidePool Press in 2019.  An excerpt from the book published in Ploughshares can be read here.

The Long Road to Publication

by Lisa Gruenberg

I started writing Searching for Mia, then Finding Mia, and now My City of Dreams, in 2004 when my elderly father, a Viennese Holocaust survivor, began having flashbacks and nightmares about the past.  I was suffering from severe depression and my dreams had disappeared.  I would wake with a start as if someone were speaking through me.  I got up and wrote what had come to me.  These first bits of writing were in the voice of my father’s sister, Mia, who disappeared in 1941 at the age of fifteen, and whose name my father did not say out loud until the year before his death.

I’d always loved books, but I was never much of a writer.  I only took one English class in college.  These first scraps of writing felt like inspiration. But after a while, these midnight “flashes” stopped coming to me, and I came to realize that writing is a job like any other, often tedious and even painful.  Inspiration, although wonderful, is rare. I started the Lesley University MFA Program in 2005 in order to write this particular book, but it got me into the habit of writing about other things as well.  But it was many more years before my writing would be in any kind of shape for publication.

Back to my father’s story: It wasn’t only that we didn’t know that his was a sad story, that his parents were murdered and that his only sister disappeared into Germany, and that many of his relatives “perished,” a term I’d always found inadequate.  It was more that my father always lived very much in the present, and always described his city and his childhood in the most joyous way, much like the first paragraph of his unfinished memoir, which begins with a song from that time:

Wien, Wien, nur Du allein wirst stets die Stadt meiner Träume sein! Vienna, Vienna, only you will always be the city of my dreams!” In spite of the hardships my family experienced and the times when there was not enough money for food, I feel I had a very happy childhood. And most of all—I was in love with Vienna!

The book went through endless drafts, workshops, hired editors, and friends. In the meantime, I published a few essays, received an MCC artists fellowship for a short story which was never published, although it received many glowing rejections.  I am one hundred pages into a novel, still in progress.

I sent the book in its various formats to agents and publishers I connected with at conferences and through friends and acquaintances—no success—then after an excerpt was published in Ploughshares I heard from a couple of agents, and even got close to publication with a small publisher in New York City, who took me to lunch, asked me to rewrite the book substantially, and then went radio silent (something that I’ve gotten used to over the years). My sister-in-law and sometimes-agent agreed to send it around, and she managed to get about twenty readings from editors at the name presses—and more glowing rejections.  I heard “too literary” and “not literary enough” in the same week, and always “although well-written, can’t use another Holocaust book.” I decided to self-publish.

I hired Jessamyn Hope, a novelist and former instructor at Grub Street, to edit.  She cut through all my struggles with the different points of view and the time travel going on in my head, and she gave me a blueprint for keeping the reader oriented.  Then, out of the blue, I heard from Frank Herron, the editor at TidePool Press, a small publisher in Cambridge, saying they wanted to publish the book. Frank had been a reporter on the newspaper where a childhood friend of mine was an editor.  She’d introduced us two years earlier, and he’d loved the manuscript. But TidePool was a small outfit, and Frank was perpetually waiting for his partner to read it and decide, so I’d given up.  The simple contract took several months more to materialize, so we’d already been working on the word document for weeks by the time we both signed.

I’d heard that publishing is a let-down, but so far that hasn’t been my experience. Frank is a talented editor, and he loves the rewritten manuscript I had after working with Jessamyn.  Even my husband is involved in picking out typos that are inevitable with all the adjustments needed to prepare the book for publication.  The designer at TidePool, Ingrid Mach, loves the writing and the photographs and original documents I’d pulled out to make the manuscript more palatable to a big publisher.  She’s put them back in, imbedding them in the story.  She’s designed a beautiful cover based on an old postcard of Vienna in the thirties. The book will be published in hard cover on high quality paper and is slated to be released in early 2019.

Working on the book is a much different experience now that I know it will actually see the light of day.  But it does use up my energy and most of my spare time—I still work my day jobs.  So, there isn’t a lot of time or mental space left over to get going on the novel, or to start any of the stories and essays I’d like to get to.  And I’m going to need to promote the book almost entirely on my own, which is another time sink for the future.  I’m downsizing my clinical and teaching commitments, but may need to pare them down further if the writing is going to become my main “thing” moving forward.

12 thoughts on “The Long Road to Publication, by Lisa Gruenberg ’07

  1. Reading both Gruenberg’s and Fedel’s posts on this blog has just made me re-realize what a labor of love producing literature is. There is so much work involved, writing and re-writing, being rejected over and over again that it takes an incredible amount of perseverance to keep at it. Having said that, what I particularly love about Gruenberg’s piece is that she is still so full of optimism and grace as she describes her journey. I found it quite moving the way she writes about the parallels between her father who is haunted by flashbacks and memories of the past, and the voice of the past filling her with the initial inspiration for her book. To me, it just shows that no matter how hard the process may be, the stories do have a way of insisting that they be told.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Thank you, Lisa, for a frank account of the publication of your book — both the frustrations of the long haul and the pleasures of working with people who are truly committed to the project. And for making clear that time is of the essence.
    All the best for the publication of My City of Dreams.



  3. “This ache I inherited from him”

    There’s a conference held every few years at the College of the Western Galilee in Akko, Israel, that is named “The Future of Holocaust Testimony.” I believe Lisa Gruenberg’s memoir “My City of Dreams” shows the way into this future.
    In this volume, the author has taken on the task of not only recording her own life, but also that of relatives long lost to darkness, terror and murder. In dreamlike sequences Gruenberg weaves known facts of the lives of lost relatives into tableaus of imagined family dinners, conversations and leisure activities in front of the scenario of the Vienna landscape. She brings back to life especially some of the girls and women whose fates remain largely unknown. Indeed, she embodies her aunt Mia, her great-aunt Pepi, as she walks in their shoes, sees with their eyes speaks with their voices. These flights into the past and other people and are presented within the framework of Gruenberg’s own family, her husband and daughters, but mostly with her father. He escaped from Vienna in 1938 and shared few of his memories with her, and that only late in life when disease had beaten down his defenses against remembering.
    The trauma and feeling of guilt often described in Holocaust survivors is reflected in this memoir, also the burden shared by so many of their children and grandchildren. At the same time, Gruenberg’s tale is one of lightness and finding balance in all these difficulties and trials. There is an apparently endless network of cousins and friends of cousins, one more colorful than the next one. They are spread all over the world and Gruenberg seeks many of them out in her search for the past.
    At the center of the success of this narrative stands Gruenberg’s ability to look at the truth unflinchingly, including at the one apparent in herself. This ability to share her insights in all their nakedness, starkness and, yes, hilarity, together with the author’s luminous prose, make this book an important landmark in 21st century testimony of the Holocaust.


  4. How many writers (myself included) have naively believed that the writing itself would be the difficult part of the journey to publication? With so much adversity on the journey from “writer” to “author” it’s no wonder that so many books never see the light of day.

    Your patience, tenacity and conviction that your story be told is inspiring. I can not wait to read it!


  5. Lisa,
    So happy about your publication! Your post shows just how fickle publishing is, and that if we stick it out, something will happen eventually. I recently posted above my desk: Treat publishing as a lark, and the writing as serious business.
    All best for a fabulous launch. I can’t wait to read it!


  6. I’m so glad to know My City of Dreams will finally be properly published, my happiness amplified by your blog post describing the long process. I was greatly moved months back to read excerpts — and again by re-reading the excerpt from Ploughshares just now. Moved by your father’s story, but also by your remarkable persistence in working through it and your honesty in writing it. It’s so very rich, poignant and layered with meaning. Congratulations, Lisa!


  7. Lisa,
    Cannot wait to get my hands on your book in hardcover! It deserves every page of its high quality paper. What a privilege to have been along for part of the ride, to have seen this book in earlier iterations, and to have the opportunity to witness its debut. A huge congratulations to you, and best wishes with your novel. Your post is certainly encouraging for those of us who have received “glowing rejections.” I will do my best, henceforth, to eye them with less disappointment and more hope. One never knows when all those stars and their proverbial alignment will occur! All the best, Emily


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