Thalia Chaltas
Thalia Chaltas (Author, Because I Am Furniture, Viking, 2009) worked hard at her luck to get her Young Adult novel Because I Am Furniture published by Viking. She has been writing for children since just before the turn of the century. The current century. Running her medical transcription business has taught her the value of editing, since most physicians don’t sound brilliant without a transcriptionist. Raising five-year-old daughter Kaeva has taught Thalia the hard work of love, and she feels lucky to have that job as her first priority. She currently has her butt in the chair, working on another novel for Viking.
As a teenager Thalia Chaltas wanted to do everything, and she envied people who knew without question what their life goal was. Thalia did preliminary training to be a kinesiologist, a helicopter pilot, and a fire fighter, and has at times been a bus driver, a ropes course instructor, and a contralto in an a capella group. Along the way she has played lots of volleyball, written poetry, and collected children’s books. And eventually, that anvil fell from the sky and she realized writing was what all this previous intensive training was for.
She has kept every poem she has ever written – except one. Because she can’t find it.
Thalia lives in California with her daughter.
BECAUSE I AM FURNITURE is her first novel.
Where do I write?
First, I will tell you where I usually do not write. At home! Why? Because most of my life is there! Laundry in a pile. A new blackberry ice cream to create. Dust bunnies to pet. Very distracting.
“I think that is supposed to be good, that I get less from him but I feel worthless.”
“People are most honestwhen they don't know you are listening.”
“You've always been skinny,always will." I can feeleachreclusivebonepoke through,the bones of Embarrassment,Anger,Relief.I push some back in,but leaveAngersticking out.”
“I never realizedtill nowhow hard the brain has to workto make the body do what it asks.Or maybe how hard the body has to workto ignorethe brain.”
“Yaicha is named after a songby some group from the last century called thePousette-Dart Band.Something about a girl, a candle in the falling rain shining amidst the pain.I kind of surprise myselfwhen I can picture Yaicha as that candle.My father named Yaicha after the "haunting melody."I wonder if he ever listenedto the lyrics.”
“The foam cushionson the old couch downstairsdisintegratedailyin a hush,like each of us,small flecks ofhardening puffsraining mute to the floorwhen I flop down to study.And the more the couch gets used,the less foam it keeps--somedayjust an uncomfortable frame,springs and other inner workingsexposed.Silent.”
“Yaicha runs.He sits down, tired,and says to mom, "I'm sorry you had to see that."Inevitable that he does it.But he doesn't really want a witness.”
“I am always there.But they don't care if I ambecause I am furniture.I don't get hitI don't get fondledI don't get lovebecause I am furnitureSuits me fine.”
“Yaicha and Darren told me that I wasthe mailman's child,and I got so angry,stalking away,hot steam in my ribs.Yaicha and Darrentold me that I was the mailman's childand now I am thinkinghow wonderful it would beto havethe mailman asmy father.”
“Then why don't I tell on him?If they don't, why don't I?Because.Because I am safe this way,silent unnoticed.”
“Why am I not good enough?At least he loves Darren and Yaichain some wayeven if it's horrible, he shows them attentionand I am furnitureI get nothing nothingnothingno thing”
“With all the dizzy galaxies hot gases dust at the speed of light neutrinos running through everything,no matter how powerful someone is here on Earththey are just as small as me to the vast greatness ofouterspace.”
“I got an A on the third quiz in American history, an A, dammit. Last time I got a Bup from a Cand my father said,"if you can get a Cyou can get a B,if you can get a Byou can get an A."-I got an Aand my father said,"grades don't mean anything.”
“I'm sure you were mistaken," Yaicha says to her brush.My ears pin back -"MISTAKEN?I know who Angie is, Yaicha.I know who our father is, Yaicha. He hurts people, he hurts you, you never do anything!" My claws scrape the wall paint.She turns with soft rabbit eyes. "He'll kill me.""He's already doing that!"I am growling, grabbing her sleeve, "Every day, every day he rips you open,chips off pieces week by week, till a few years from now you are not even a mouthful of sawdust.A drawn-out killing.Well, I'm tired of all of us doing nothing. He has to be stopped."Yaicha's eyes have flinched a few times but soften again. "Nobody can stop him."My teeth show."Nobody can stop him? Good.To him I have always been Nobody.”
“I'm sorry, I had a meeting"I stand behind his chair. "Liar," under my breath."You weren't at a meeting," take a breath, gain speed, bursting,"You were with Angie in the office.I saw you. I saw you. You clamp us down, you think no one knows.You hurt my brother! My sister!You hurt my friend! Small trusting prey, huh?You had to squash some weak person already in pain, thinking she loved you.You could have chosen to hurt me!But I'm not worth enough, I never am and you picked poor Angie, you were going to RAPE her, I SAW YOU TRY TO RAPE ANGIE, you fucking MONSTER!”
“If all this tree is from mom and all this tree is from himwhere do I grow my own branches?”
“Invite someone over?No.Nobody plays at my house.”