A few days ago, I wrote about research in its more practical, contemporary clothes. Let me toss out a site here USNO site to look up info on astronomical events. Check out the data services link to find out what time the sun rose on March 3, 1892. Or maybe what phase of the moon hung in the sky. This was a really cool little link to find when I was reaching back to 1850, looking for as much authenticity as possible. But there is a lot of great information for contemporary subjects as well.
Another fabulous site for 19th century resources is a digital library of 19th-Century History, loaded with links to a variety of collections. And there's always the fabulous Making of America site.
Now, where do you get good stuff for your characters? Of course strong powers of observation are essential, but I have a favorite place to research people. No, it's not the local mall or the nearest Starbucks, although both are great places to observe teenagers.
Call me crazy or morbid or just plain psycho, but I love old cemeteries, the older the better. You would be amazed at the stories
you find written on headstones--sometimes in poetry, sometimes in emblems and dates, sometimes just in the name. Some of the more famous cemeteries, like Mount Hope in Rochester, have websites that describe the famous people dwelling in the earth there. So if you're looking for an interesting name, or just a fascinating story, check out an old burial ground.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Is Research Just for Non-fiction Writers and History Buffs?
Unequivocally, No. I know, I know...I've been just too excited about digging through the bones of 19th-century Spiritualism, but even in my contemporary writings, I am constantly looking for answers. The questions are sometimes different, but not always.
First, for any project I have to ask the when and the where. Even if the story takes place right now in my own back yard, I need to explore the setting in detail. If my readers are going to live in it, the setting should be as real and rich as possible, even if all the details don't actually make it to the page. The impression of them should.
What lives there? By that I mean plant life, wildlife, even what kind of people,...what sort of industry moves the town, etc.
I actually took several reading expeditions when I was working on WOS, just looking for what kind of wildflowers actually grow along the Genessee River or even what sort of stove would stand in an 1850 kitchen. Some readers might not notice if I've placed some strange cactus that grows only in the Sahara along the river bank, but one just might. Of course, I hope I never stray that far off the mark. But even in the present-day setting, the little things around the room or in the yard tell us a lot about your characters and their struggles.
Yes, towns have character, too. And your setting should be just that--another character in your story. Give it personality. Give it life. It needs to be more than a "Paper Moon sailing over a cardboard sea..." (to quote an old song and a fabulous movie). The setting has the power to completely alter the reader's perception of your characters, of the problems they face, of the tone of your story. Never underestimate that power of its influence.
Okay, I know I began this little discussion with "first...," but the rest will have to wait for a second installment. In the meantime, enjoy your research. Go out and lie in the grass, smell the air, count the houses, count their windows, notice where the moon rises and exactly how its light paints the trees at 2 o'clock in the morning. Research...
First, for any project I have to ask the when and the where. Even if the story takes place right now in my own back yard, I need to explore the setting in detail. If my readers are going to live in it, the setting should be as real and rich as possible, even if all the details don't actually make it to the page. The impression of them should.
What lives there? By that I mean plant life, wildlife, even what kind of people,...what sort of industry moves the town, etc.
I actually took several reading expeditions when I was working on WOS, just looking for what kind of wildflowers actually grow along the Genessee River or even what sort of stove would stand in an 1850 kitchen. Some readers might not notice if I've placed some strange cactus that grows only in the Sahara along the river bank, but one just might. Of course, I hope I never stray that far off the mark. But even in the present-day setting, the little things around the room or in the yard tell us a lot about your characters and their struggles.
Yes, towns have character, too. And your setting should be just that--another character in your story. Give it personality. Give it life. It needs to be more than a "Paper Moon sailing over a cardboard sea..." (to quote an old song and a fabulous movie). The setting has the power to completely alter the reader's perception of your characters, of the problems they face, of the tone of your story. Never underestimate that power of its influence.
Okay, I know I began this little discussion with "first...," but the rest will have to wait for a second installment. In the meantime, enjoy your research. Go out and lie in the grass, smell the air, count the houses, count their windows, notice where the moon rises and exactly how its light paints the trees at 2 o'clock in the morning. Research...
Monday, March 17, 2008
The Epistolary Approach
What ever happened to...the letter? You know...those pieces of paper hand-decorated with the most intimate of thoughts, sometimes the most carefully sculpted deceptions, often dipped in the sincerest of emotion and accented with a splash of sarcasm or a good bit of humor.
Take this little bit, for instance...
From a letter written by Elisha Kane to Maggie Fox, c. 1853
Not that everyone needs to fill their letters with poetry and mush, but there is something infinitely more personal to a hand-written note, something so deeply connected. The writing itself is often lovely to behold. With the advent of computers, email, and the effortless keyboard, however, it's a wonder that any of us can remember how to sign our names to the mortgage payment! Aside from beautiful penmanship, there are the other elements of this life that only a letter can bring, bits that simply cannot seep through the computer screen. The feel of the paper in your hands. The scent of the writer--perhaps a little chocolate, or lilac, or something muskier. The sound of the envelope giving way to whatever device you choose to extricate the precious contents from their protector. The marks of its journey--stains and stamps and smudges. A letter gives you the whole sensual experience.
I'm scolding myself as well. About a year ago, I started a pen-pal relationship with a fellow writer who was looking for a pen pal via SCBWI's discussion boards. Absolutely! I love to write letters. Of course when the whole job kerfuffle began, I lost all sense of time and space and pretty much evaporated from the correspondence pool. (Sorry, Christine...hope you got my letter a few weeks ago!)
I have spent most of my life staring wistfully at mailboxes, praying for some little treasure (these days that would include a book contract!) to open and savor with a cup of tea. When I lived in Ireland, I ached for letters from friends and family across the pond, but the crippling can't-write-a-letteritis had already seized a generation and left my poor mail slot empty and unfulfilled. What dejection! The letter carrier whistling as he skipped right past my lonely old letter slot. May as well stuff it full of wool to keep the cold wind out!
It is so rare to find something other than bills or crappy invitations to steal my identity in that precious box standing guard at the end of my driveway. No matter how much I talk about it, however, I still need to do more to perpetuate the art of letter-writing. So...I've got my fountain pen and my stacks of interesting papers, and a proper "thank you" is on its way to a generous friend who loaned me her couch for a few nights...
Take this little bit, for instance...
But with all this I am a weak man and a fool; weak, that I should be caught in the midst of my grave purposes by the gilded dust of a butterfly's wing.
From a letter written by Elisha Kane to Maggie Fox, c. 1853
Not that everyone needs to fill their letters with poetry and mush, but there is something infinitely more personal to a hand-written note, something so deeply connected. The writing itself is often lovely to behold. With the advent of computers, email, and the effortless keyboard, however, it's a wonder that any of us can remember how to sign our names to the mortgage payment! Aside from beautiful penmanship, there are the other elements of this life that only a letter can bring, bits that simply cannot seep through the computer screen. The feel of the paper in your hands. The scent of the writer--perhaps a little chocolate, or lilac, or something muskier. The sound of the envelope giving way to whatever device you choose to extricate the precious contents from their protector. The marks of its journey--stains and stamps and smudges. A letter gives you the whole sensual experience.
I'm scolding myself as well. About a year ago, I started a pen-pal relationship with a fellow writer who was looking for a pen pal via SCBWI's discussion boards. Absolutely! I love to write letters. Of course when the whole job kerfuffle began, I lost all sense of time and space and pretty much evaporated from the correspondence pool. (Sorry, Christine...hope you got my letter a few weeks ago!)
I have spent most of my life staring wistfully at mailboxes, praying for some little treasure (these days that would include a book contract!) to open and savor with a cup of tea. When I lived in Ireland, I ached for letters from friends and family across the pond, but the crippling can't-write-a-letteritis had already seized a generation and left my poor mail slot empty and unfulfilled. What dejection! The letter carrier whistling as he skipped right past my lonely old letter slot. May as well stuff it full of wool to keep the cold wind out!
It is so rare to find something other than bills or crappy invitations to steal my identity in that precious box standing guard at the end of my driveway. No matter how much I talk about it, however, I still need to do more to perpetuate the art of letter-writing. So...I've got my fountain pen and my stacks of interesting papers, and a proper "thank you" is on its way to a generous friend who loaned me her couch for a few nights...
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Murder and Mad Weather--The Road to Rochester
You would never believe that when I left Lancaster County on Thursday afternoon, it was sunny and 50º outside--even up north in Rochester. 24 hours later we were in the middle of a mini blizzard. Of course I was oblivious to the snow storm brewing right outside the Rare Books Collection at the University of Rochester Library. My face was buried in piles of the most fascinating letters and pamphlets from the 1840s and 50s. With the research for my next book really taking off, I have that fever...you know, when your mind won't stop for a second, you can't sleep because you're constantly moving pieces around in your head, trying to figure out the best narrative approach and how much of your research really belongs, blah blah blah... Wow! 
Of course the coolest tidbit I found was all about the supposed murder that took place at the Hydesville house in the early 1840's. Oh the details! Very exciting...but you'll have to wait for my book to find out more! Huge thanks to Mary and Rose for chasing down these wonderful documents and making copies for me.
My favorite part of the trip was hanging with my fabulous hostess and brand new YA librarian, Deena, and A2A blog buddy Kate. I felt as though I had known them for years. Kate, I hope your bronchitis is better! We all shared a tasty dinner at The Garlic Pit...MMMMMM! Later we hung out at Kate's house to chat a bit longer, and her kids were all the entertainment we needed. They are awesome! And a huge thanks to Deena for putting me up (or shall I say putting up with me!?) and especially for shoveling out my car.
Tuned in to the Weather Channel on Saturday morning, it looked as though the line of snow extended just south of Rochester--well, it turned out to be 2 hours south. So I decided to make a run for it and see if I could beat the rest of the storm. Two hours of white-knuckling past an endless stream of steel corpses along the median--good little Subaru--and I finally came out the other side of the storm. The next few hours were a mix of rain and dry cloudy skies. I had just crossed into Lancaster Co., PA, 25 minutes from home, so I called Deena to let her know I had survived. No sooner had I hit the "end" button and put the phone down when my car started to shake. Up ahead, a huge tree lay beside the road, stretching its gnarled finger tips across the right lane. Above me, a wall of clouds raced across the sky and I half expected a tornado to reach right down and sweep the highway clean. Once again, the knuckles turned white. A few miles from home, the stop sign was twisting in the wind, greeting everyone with 360º waves. Power lines were swaying wildly, dipping lower and lower with each gust of wind. I couldn't believe it! Maybe its the ghost of the murdered peddler following me home! 45 mph winds!
Whew! Home now with lots of great research and an itch to head back up to Rochester for more.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Three New R's--Road trip for Research in Rochester!
Thanks to a fabulous writing/blog buddy (thanks Miss Recently Repped!), I have a place to stay as I ramp up my research for my next book. Who would have guessed that historical fiction would be my bag? Somehow, falling into the 1850s was just as natural as falling off my horse (well, easier--I've got a pretty good seat!)
While I hold my breath a little longer, waiting for word on my first historical fantasy, now in the most capable of editorial hands, I am finally kicking up the energy to explore my next tale of historical spooks. Maggie Fox made a brief appearance in that worthy tome, so now I'm considering giving her the spotlight for a bit, and it's down to digging up details. I've read a lot about the Fox sisters and looked up maps and information about Rochester and spent a lot of time on WorldCat trying to locate some primary and secondary sources, but I really need to go spend some time there, soak in the city.
Another big thanks to Nancy Rubin Stuart whose fabulous book and generous guidance gave me a little more insight into where to take my next step. I'm still floundering a bit as to exactly where the plot will go and from whence it will begin, but it will come. All it takes is a word or a phrase or some whisper of an idea. Who knows, maybe the ghosts of Kate and Maggie Fox will pay me a visit while I'm there!
The best news is, I'll be writing again!
While I hold my breath a little longer, waiting for word on my first historical fantasy, now in the most capable of editorial hands, I am finally kicking up the energy to explore my next tale of historical spooks. Maggie Fox made a brief appearance in that worthy tome, so now I'm considering giving her the spotlight for a bit, and it's down to digging up details. I've read a lot about the Fox sisters and looked up maps and information about Rochester and spent a lot of time on WorldCat trying to locate some primary and secondary sources, but I really need to go spend some time there, soak in the city.
Another big thanks to Nancy Rubin Stuart whose fabulous book and generous guidance gave me a little more insight into where to take my next step. I'm still floundering a bit as to exactly where the plot will go and from whence it will begin, but it will come. All it takes is a word or a phrase or some whisper of an idea. Who knows, maybe the ghosts of Kate and Maggie Fox will pay me a visit while I'm there!
The best news is, I'll be writing again!
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Joyce Moyer Hostetter's Healing Water
All right, everyone! You have to check this out. Head on over to
She is an amazing writer and a lovely person. Her historical fiction is rich with authentic detail and genuine emotion. If you haven't read her wonderful Seed Catalogues--Hurray!
Yes, they have started coming. Those lovely seed catalogues full of luscious photographs and wistful desires. I love this time of year when the flower catalogues start jamming my mailbox. Hey, it's better than a boatload of rejection letters! It always makes me a bit wistful for spring and for simple country life--the house full of savory aromas and rich colors. I used to have a large garden in my back yard, back when I still had a little farm. I loved to plant veggies and tend to them through the steamy months of summer. Funny, when these little tomes of graphic beauty arrive, I always start cooking more, too. Those beautiful catalogues just inspire me to cook from scratch and bask in the aroma of comfort food as I anticipate the return of long, light days filled with warmth and birdsong.
I can't help but imagine placing a huge order for all kinds of exotic flowers, things I could never in a million years actually grow because I just don't have that kind of green thumb. So I try to find some lovely phlox or some geraniums and petunias, vinkas, begonias, all the more pedestrian blossoms that make our house look welcoming.
Interestingly, reading through theses catalogues often educates my writing as well. My settings are suddenly populated with the vibrant little heads of native flowers and foliage that build the character of the book. When I started working on my most recent novel, I stopped to research the flora and fauna of the Gennessee River valley. It had to be right.
What simple bits of mail inspire you?
I can't help but imagine placing a huge order for all kinds of exotic flowers, things I could never in a million years actually grow because I just don't have that kind of green thumb. So I try to find some lovely phlox or some geraniums and petunias, vinkas, begonias, all the more pedestrian blossoms that make our house look welcoming.
Interestingly, reading through theses catalogues often educates my writing as well. My settings are suddenly populated with the vibrant little heads of native flowers and foliage that build the character of the book. When I started working on my most recent novel, I stopped to research the flora and fauna of the Gennessee River valley. It had to be right.
What simple bits of mail inspire you?
Friday, February 15, 2008
Valentines--oooh, Baby!
My man has always been a sentimental kind of guy, though not always a detail oriented guy. Sure, it took almost 10 years before he actually brought me flowers...well, maybe only 8. But he is that poetic soul who is nothing but committed. His gifts are always thoughtful and usually spot-on in some degree. But he really blew me away last night. Things have been exceptionally tight financially, and emotionally we've each been through a lot with our jobs in the last few months. But we have never been closer (cue the "awwww!") It's true!
In April, we'll celebrate 15 years of marriage, and he's been wanting to do a little something extra. So when he brings me a box of my favorite chocolates--Gertrude Hawk Dark Chocolate Cherry Cordials--and a stunningly romantic card, complete with a Shakespearean sonnet that is so perfect considering our lives right now, I was already snuggled in the warm fuzzies. He's hit a home run, full of love and sentimental stuff that I adore. But it gets better... whoa, does it get better! As luck would have it, a tiny windfall blew his way, and he chose to blow it all on me. (Good husband!). I can't get a decent picture, yet, and jewelry is difficult to photograph anyway, but looky, looky! I know it's hard to see just how stunning this ring is, and I hope to get a better picture of it eventually, but you get the idea.
Now, I'd love describe the rest of the evening, but my YA rating prohibits it!
In April, we'll celebrate 15 years of marriage, and he's been wanting to do a little something extra. So when he brings me a box of my favorite chocolates--Gertrude Hawk Dark Chocolate Cherry Cordials--and a stunningly romantic card, complete with a Shakespearean sonnet that is so perfect considering our lives right now, I was already snuggled in the warm fuzzies. He's hit a home run, full of love and sentimental stuff that I adore. But it gets better... whoa, does it get better! As luck would have it, a tiny windfall blew his way, and he chose to blow it all on me. (Good husband!). I can't get a decent picture, yet, and jewelry is difficult to photograph anyway, but looky, looky! I know it's hard to see just how stunning this ring is, and I hope to get a better picture of it eventually, but you get the idea.
Now, I'd love describe the rest of the evening, but my YA rating prohibits it!
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Love what you hate about your Main Character…
...and we will love him even more. As a writer, I think I would love to create that character who is so much better than I ever was as a kid. You know, the kid who always knows the right thing to do—and does it. He’s confident and clever, never says the wrong thing or hurts anyone’s feelings. Free from prejudice or self-righteous indignation. Never afraid, never stupid...
BORING!!!! No kid can relate to that…or live up to that. The thing that really makes a character work is more than just some quirk, like plucking his eyebrows bald in a nervous fit every time he has an algebra exam, or, to quote a recent top 25 list, chews his lip until he tastes blood. No, let him be FLAWED in some real way. I have to remind myself of that, even now as I think of the characters I’ve already written and already love. It doesn’t have to be a flaw of Shakespearean magnitude, (You can go to bed now, MacBeth…) but somewhere in your book, he should make the reader just a little uncomfortable, squirm in his seat just a bit while trying to defend your dear MC. Of course, this is where you can draw on personal experience, right? The list of bonehead moves in my childhood could just about match the collected works of our dear old master of tragedy, Mr. Bill. But what inside me led to those actions? What in my character made me say such a stupid remark or do such an asinine thing?
Think about the characters you really love—even Harry Potter has his faults. A deeply good heart, noble even, but there’s plenty of self-doubt which is sometimes costly; a nice helping of rashness, though understandably so; even some serious prejudice of his own, though not completely unfounded or even deep-seated.
So what “issues” does your MC have? What are those little things that make you want to kick his butt and send him to his room without supper? If you don’t have any, maybe you should.
BORING!!!! No kid can relate to that…or live up to that. The thing that really makes a character work is more than just some quirk, like plucking his eyebrows bald in a nervous fit every time he has an algebra exam, or, to quote a recent top 25 list, chews his lip until he tastes blood. No, let him be FLAWED in some real way. I have to remind myself of that, even now as I think of the characters I’ve already written and already love. It doesn’t have to be a flaw of Shakespearean magnitude, (You can go to bed now, MacBeth…) but somewhere in your book, he should make the reader just a little uncomfortable, squirm in his seat just a bit while trying to defend your dear MC. Of course, this is where you can draw on personal experience, right? The list of bonehead moves in my childhood could just about match the collected works of our dear old master of tragedy, Mr. Bill. But what inside me led to those actions? What in my character made me say such a stupid remark or do such an asinine thing?
Think about the characters you really love—even Harry Potter has his faults. A deeply good heart, noble even, but there’s plenty of self-doubt which is sometimes costly; a nice helping of rashness, though understandably so; even some serious prejudice of his own, though not completely unfounded or even deep-seated.
So what “issues” does your MC have? What are those little things that make you want to kick his butt and send him to his room without supper? If you don’t have any, maybe you should.
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Ruthie--Muse, Critter, Companion
Before you think I've really gone round the bend, consider it. A fabulous, affectionate friend who never scolds or annihilates your MC with a dismissive remark, or shatters your plot line with one swift blow of logic. Nope. Ruthie is inspired! Originally a class pet (well we know what happened to that plan!), now she is simply my buddy. Before I got this quaint little rodent, I had no idea how remarkably affectionate and quick-witted rats are. She's smart and sweet and already bonded to to me--and I to her. She loves to play around my feet or explore my desk when I'm working. Although the desk-top expeditions can be a bit dangerous to my files as her dainty little toes can wreak havoc on my keyboard, sending my document into the strangest of convulsions. "Save." Hit "Save" often!
Call her a mascot or a curiosity, I'll always call her my buddy. As odd as it may sound, Ruthie seems to make my little space, surrounded by the playroom mess and loads of youthful distraction, truly my space. She anchors me and encourages me as I plow through the pile of ideas scattered among the flotsam on my desk. Her little nose poking at my sock, her tiny toenails gently tugging at my pants leg, her feathery whiskers tickling my skin as she climbs into my lap and nudges my chin.
I know--it sounds a bit sappy. But it feels so nice to have a little buddy who is just interested in a little cuddle and some good writing! I think everyone should have a personal mascot! A critique critter!
Saturday, January 26, 2008
If I were a Tea Kettle, I'd be whistling by now!
Pressure! It's maddening at this point. We are still waiting to hear about a job for DH, fighting depression in the face of true joblessness at any moment. Waiting on the ever interminable submission process to supply an answer, in particular, a big fat "yes, we love it, gotta have it!" How do you keep from chewing your fingertips off at times like this?
On the plus side, I know that my latest manuscript is top-notch and has a really good shot at a contract, if not with the current editor, with another one. It's my best work--period. I feel good about my first novel, too, which is still under consideration, but it is my first and could use a little more work (which I see so much more clearly now that I've had some distance).
The hardest thing is managing the financial worries as well as issues of morale when it comes to my DH's job search. Worrying about more than just a job, his career. This whole thing has been pretty devastating for him, and I'm trying to keep the positive vibes flowing. But it's tough some days. Worrying about what if we have to move...can we sell our house? Will we be in a position to buy in our new city? Will it be a good move for the kids?
I know...more fuel for writing, right? If I could just concentrate. I have research to do so I can spark that plan for the next book, but I just haven't been able to find the focus.
Okay...enough venting. I'll keep drinking in those fantasies about that fabulous book contract and the eventual book signings, with lines out the door...(dream big, I say! Hey...throw in a movie deal, too!). And I'll nibble at a few daydreams about the perfect job for DH, too.
Okay, now I'll blow that steam off the top and breathe...
On the plus side, I know that my latest manuscript is top-notch and has a really good shot at a contract, if not with the current editor, with another one. It's my best work--period. I feel good about my first novel, too, which is still under consideration, but it is my first and could use a little more work (which I see so much more clearly now that I've had some distance).
The hardest thing is managing the financial worries as well as issues of morale when it comes to my DH's job search. Worrying about more than just a job, his career. This whole thing has been pretty devastating for him, and I'm trying to keep the positive vibes flowing. But it's tough some days. Worrying about what if we have to move...can we sell our house? Will we be in a position to buy in our new city? Will it be a good move for the kids?
I know...more fuel for writing, right? If I could just concentrate. I have research to do so I can spark that plan for the next book, but I just haven't been able to find the focus.
Okay...enough venting. I'll keep drinking in those fantasies about that fabulous book contract and the eventual book signings, with lines out the door...(dream big, I say! Hey...throw in a movie deal, too!). And I'll nibble at a few daydreams about the perfect job for DH, too.
Okay, now I'll blow that steam off the top and breathe...
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Random Acts of Kindness
It's a Friday night. My DH is late (not unusual), I have to get going to meet a friend for dinner and a movie. Ah Snap! I'm almost out of gas. So I wheel into my favorite gas station. Duh! It's Friday at rush hour. Yep, every bay is full--except one. So I pull carefully around and position myself to slide into that bay with my gas tank on the correct side. The truck behind me missed something in translation and pulled in from the other side just before I got there. Drat!
Fortunately another bay opened up at the other end of the island and I managed to get there before anyone else. Of course, I cursed under my breath as I slid my debit card through the reader. "Remove Nozzle" comes up on the screen--before the request for my PIN. What's up with that? I push the DEBIT/PAY OUTSIDE button. "PrePaid $25.00" flashes across the screen. HUH?
From behind me, walking from the direction of the cashier/shop, a man comes towards me with his hand out in a conciliatory gesture. "I just wanted to apologize for bumping you out of that bay. I didn't realize you meant to pull in there. So...Sorry." Then he scurried over to his truck. Meanwhile, my little rig is gratefully drinking $25.00 worth of gas, gas that I'm pretty sure is not coming out of my debit account.
I'm dazed and unsure and in a hurry to eat. (I get crazy when I don't eat!). So I hop in my car and drive away, still picking through the details of the little scenario that had just played out at my favorite gas station. Holy Cow! Did that man just buy me $25.00 worth of gas because he misread my parking maneuvers? And at a time when my bank account in is a coma! I'm stunned. Flat out stunned.
You just never know what good can come. Have faith that there are people out there who care about how their actions affect other people, even if it's only a misunderstanding. So I stuff those curses back in my mouth and swallow hard. Now it's my turn to offer a random act of kindness.
Fortunately another bay opened up at the other end of the island and I managed to get there before anyone else. Of course, I cursed under my breath as I slid my debit card through the reader. "Remove Nozzle" comes up on the screen--before the request for my PIN. What's up with that? I push the DEBIT/PAY OUTSIDE button. "PrePaid $25.00" flashes across the screen. HUH?
From behind me, walking from the direction of the cashier/shop, a man comes towards me with his hand out in a conciliatory gesture. "I just wanted to apologize for bumping you out of that bay. I didn't realize you meant to pull in there. So...Sorry." Then he scurried over to his truck. Meanwhile, my little rig is gratefully drinking $25.00 worth of gas, gas that I'm pretty sure is not coming out of my debit account.
I'm dazed and unsure and in a hurry to eat. (I get crazy when I don't eat!). So I hop in my car and drive away, still picking through the details of the little scenario that had just played out at my favorite gas station. Holy Cow! Did that man just buy me $25.00 worth of gas because he misread my parking maneuvers? And at a time when my bank account in is a coma! I'm stunned. Flat out stunned.
You just never know what good can come. Have faith that there are people out there who care about how their actions affect other people, even if it's only a misunderstanding. So I stuff those curses back in my mouth and swallow hard. Now it's my turn to offer a random act of kindness.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Fantasies...What Are Yours?
Okay, this is a clean post, I promise. Have you ever been driving along, perhaps hauling your cherubs up to school, and suddenly realize you took the wrong exit, or worse, you have no idea how you got from your house to the school? For me, it's usually because I was daydreaming...playing those fabulous fantasy flicks in my head. A little scary considering my sweeties are in the back seat and who knows if I stayed on the road!
So, I have a few fantasies that play over and over on that screen that flickers behind my eyeballs:
1. The Big Book Deal--Yes, like all aspiring, and established, writers, I often lose myself in thoughts of that perfect book deal that gives me a huge advance, lots of good editorial support, and supreme marketing. Okay, throw in a Newbery or a Printz, too! Well, let's just fill the pot and dream about the whole career!
2. Finally having that perfect writing room--The little room upstairs, lit by at least one hearty bank of windows. Of course there's plenty of room for bookshelves on the other three walls, and a comfy reading chair or couch as well as that perfectly molded desk chair pulled up to the exquisite cherry desk cut to just the right height for my short little bod. A door--that I can actually close and keep the cherubs out when Mama needs to work with her other muses. We'll add a little wall space for my favorite treasures, like my Irish National Championship ribbons from my equestrian days (though they're not over yet!).
3. Speaking of my equestrian days, since I had to sell my horse 6 years ago (and my farm and everything else), I dream about having that little 2 or 3-stall barn set on 5-10 acres, a sturdy hunter for me and a solid little pony for the kids (yes, I had that once and it's gone :-( ) Somedays I can still smell horse hair and sawdust. Oh how I miss it!
4. A time when my kids can attend the school they need and enough financial security to make it possible and comfortable. I don't need to be rich, just not scraping all the time.
5. Health--I try to remember what it felt like when I didn't have RA. What it's like to actually have the energy to make it through the day and do things that normal people do. Don't get me wrong, for the most part I am lucky enough to function fairly normally and without pain, but the fatigue is a killer. Thank heavens my fingers work--keep typing those YAs, gals! Mama needs a horse!
So, those are my most pressing daydreams that sometimes put everyone on Highway 286 at peril and have taught my children the fine art of yelling, "Mama! Mama! Did you hear me?", not to mention daily bouts of amnesia. "Did I really get off the highway 3 exits early?" Hm!
So, I have a few fantasies that play over and over on that screen that flickers behind my eyeballs:
1. The Big Book Deal--Yes, like all aspiring, and established, writers, I often lose myself in thoughts of that perfect book deal that gives me a huge advance, lots of good editorial support, and supreme marketing. Okay, throw in a Newbery or a Printz, too! Well, let's just fill the pot and dream about the whole career!
2. Finally having that perfect writing room--The little room upstairs, lit by at least one hearty bank of windows. Of course there's plenty of room for bookshelves on the other three walls, and a comfy reading chair or couch as well as that perfectly molded desk chair pulled up to the exquisite cherry desk cut to just the right height for my short little bod. A door--that I can actually close and keep the cherubs out when Mama needs to work with her other muses. We'll add a little wall space for my favorite treasures, like my Irish National Championship ribbons from my equestrian days (though they're not over yet!).
3. Speaking of my equestrian days, since I had to sell my horse 6 years ago (and my farm and everything else), I dream about having that little 2 or 3-stall barn set on 5-10 acres, a sturdy hunter for me and a solid little pony for the kids (yes, I had that once and it's gone :-( ) Somedays I can still smell horse hair and sawdust. Oh how I miss it!
4. A time when my kids can attend the school they need and enough financial security to make it possible and comfortable. I don't need to be rich, just not scraping all the time.
5. Health--I try to remember what it felt like when I didn't have RA. What it's like to actually have the energy to make it through the day and do things that normal people do. Don't get me wrong, for the most part I am lucky enough to function fairly normally and without pain, but the fatigue is a killer. Thank heavens my fingers work--keep typing those YAs, gals! Mama needs a horse!
So, those are my most pressing daydreams that sometimes put everyone on Highway 286 at peril and have taught my children the fine art of yelling, "Mama! Mama! Did you hear me?", not to mention daily bouts of amnesia. "Did I really get off the highway 3 exits early?" Hm!
Monday, January 14, 2008
Saturday at the ALA
Well, the awards were announced this morning, and you can find out more HERE
Congratulations to all the winners!
Though I was not on the floor for the big announcements, I did spend Saturday at the ALA with some of my SCBWI-EPA cohorts, wandering through all the fabulous booths, snapping up a few ARCs and proofs here and there, as well as a mountain of catalogues. Our own SCBWI-EPA chapter had a booth this year, where many of our esteemed authors were signing their books and spreading the love. I got to see some familiar faces, editors with whom I was so fortunate to work and play at the Chautauqua Writers Workshop in 2006. And Congratulations Stephen Roxburgh and author Judith Clarke on Front Street's win for One Whole and Perfect Day!
It was so wonderful to soak it all in and get a glimpse at what's coming up in the next few months. Of course I spent half my time fantasizing about my own work being displayed on one of those tables. I also learned an important lesson about book signings--don't talk too much! One very amusing and generous author was signing his books, but he could not help but share a lengthy anecdote with each person who came up for an autograph. The line grew...and grew...and grew, and a lot of patience grew thin. Don't get me wrong, I love the personal touch and the enthusiasm, but it was endless. And when you've got 60 lbs of books hanging from your shoulder, you tend to get a little cranky.
Despite my inevitable chiropractor bill and the 18 extra hours of sleep I'm going to have to squeeze in sometime over the next 3 days, I would love to make this a yearly event. We were lucky that this year's meeting was in our own back yard, but I would love to travel and check this out every year. Thanks to Marilyn, Laurie, Diane, Lindsey, Pat, and the rest of the EPA crowd--it was great to catch up with all of you!
Though I was not on the floor for the big announcements, I did spend Saturday at the ALA with some of my SCBWI-EPA cohorts, wandering through all the fabulous booths, snapping up a few ARCs and proofs here and there, as well as a mountain of catalogues. Our own SCBWI-EPA chapter had a booth this year, where many of our esteemed authors were signing their books and spreading the love. I got to see some familiar faces, editors with whom I was so fortunate to work and play at the Chautauqua Writers Workshop in 2006. And Congratulations Stephen Roxburgh and author Judith Clarke on Front Street's win for One Whole and Perfect Day!
It was so wonderful to soak it all in and get a glimpse at what's coming up in the next few months. Of course I spent half my time fantasizing about my own work being displayed on one of those tables. I also learned an important lesson about book signings--don't talk too much! One very amusing and generous author was signing his books, but he could not help but share a lengthy anecdote with each person who came up for an autograph. The line grew...and grew...and grew, and a lot of patience grew thin. Don't get me wrong, I love the personal touch and the enthusiasm, but it was endless. And when you've got 60 lbs of books hanging from your shoulder, you tend to get a little cranky.
Despite my inevitable chiropractor bill and the 18 extra hours of sleep I'm going to have to squeeze in sometime over the next 3 days, I would love to make this a yearly event. We were lucky that this year's meeting was in our own back yard, but I would love to travel and check this out every year. Thanks to Marilyn, Laurie, Diane, Lindsey, Pat, and the rest of the EPA crowd--it was great to catch up with all of you!
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Agent or No Agent?
Well it finally happened! I got word that the junior editor is recommending my book to the senior editor (who already knows me and how I work). OOOO, pinch me! I'm trying to keep my head on straight and my feet on the ground, knowing that the final answer could still be a "no," but things are definitely looking up.
So, do I really need an agent or not? A very dear friend got an agent after she started working with a publisher who was definitely interested. She's so glad she did because not only did the agent negotiate a slightly bigger advance (commission aside), but she ironed out the trickier issues of foreign rights, media rights, awards clauses, etc. She loves her agent and feels she earned every penny of her percentage. (By the way, my friend is a lawyer who is already pretty savvy.)
I'd be curious to know how many writers out there got an agent before they signed their first contract. Are there any driving reasons not to get an agent. How would an agent respond to what would seem to be an "urgent" query? How do you compose such a query?
So, do I really need an agent or not? A very dear friend got an agent after she started working with a publisher who was definitely interested. She's so glad she did because not only did the agent negotiate a slightly bigger advance (commission aside), but she ironed out the trickier issues of foreign rights, media rights, awards clauses, etc. She loves her agent and feels she earned every penny of her percentage. (By the way, my friend is a lawyer who is already pretty savvy.)
I'd be curious to know how many writers out there got an agent before they signed their first contract. Are there any driving reasons not to get an agent. How would an agent respond to what would seem to be an "urgent" query? How do you compose such a query?
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Three Cheers for the Stinky Cheese Man!!
If you haven't heard, Stinky Cheese Man author, Jon Scieszka has been named the National Ambassador for Children's Books by the library of congress. Check it out
What a fabulous idea! Kudos to the Library of Congress, too!
I love what Jon has to say about demonizing television (and why we should be careful about that) and about what kids should be allowed to read. As a teacher, I have fielded that question many times. If a kid wants to read Captain Underpants, let him. He's reading! A child will have lots of time to read stuff because he has to. Let him start by reading stuff because he wants to. If we make it a chore, it will always be a chore. If we are solid, loving, nurturing parents with a decent moral compass of our own, odds are pretty good our kids will have that too.
We recently had a stink at our school about the Philip Pullman books. My son loves the first one, and I will let him read all of them. We have given him a firm grounding in faith essentials and trust him to come to his own thoughtful conclusions. But that's another topic for another day.
Big congratulations to Jon Scieska. May you stink up the country and put a million more books in the hands of children! Check out more of his wonderful workHERE
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What a fabulous idea! Kudos to the Library of Congress, too!
I love what Jon has to say about demonizing television (and why we should be careful about that) and about what kids should be allowed to read. As a teacher, I have fielded that question many times. If a kid wants to read Captain Underpants, let him. He's reading! A child will have lots of time to read stuff because he has to. Let him start by reading stuff because he wants to. If we make it a chore, it will always be a chore. If we are solid, loving, nurturing parents with a decent moral compass of our own, odds are pretty good our kids will have that too.
We recently had a stink at our school about the Philip Pullman books. My son loves the first one, and I will let him read all of them. We have given him a firm grounding in faith essentials and trust him to come to his own thoughtful conclusions. But that's another topic for another day.
Big congratulations to Jon Scieska. May you stink up the country and put a million more books in the hands of children! Check out more of his wonderful work
Monday, December 31, 2007
The Big Question: Art or Commerce?
So, a dear friend of mine posed a question on the BB last week: If a genie granted you one WIP wish, would you rather have your published novel be a commercial blockbuster or a literary classic? How would you choose? (Thanks Franny!)
Difficult question. All my life I've been that idealist who wants nothing less than artistic divinity. But of course, I'm no George Orwell or William Shakespeare, etc., so I have to accept that reality. Sorry, can't suspend my disbelief quite that far. But then again, who says the two things have to be mutually exclusive?
One fellow writer decided commercial success was the one way he could get paid and keep writing what he loves. He further added that he couldn't stand to have his work dissected by scholarly know-it-alls (what? English teachers like me? Naaa!) Of course my brainiac husband pointed out that the world of YA fiction rarely ever registers with the scholarly crowd, and of course I argued otherwise. But he did have a point. Of course JK Rowling has been the subject of plenty of scholarly debate, at least I would call it that. And as far as I'm concerned, she has both in her pocket. The HP saga will find its place in the classic canon, one way or another.
But then, I am the one who wants it all, as foolish as that may be. But I also realize that I have a lot more writing to do before I ever hone it to a point even on the outskirts of art. So what would I choose? The romantic in me wants to live on through my work. Hand me that classic, Mr. Newberry. But the practical part of me has seen poverty up close and would much rather have something for my kids besides potential riches after I'm dead. At least I would like to keep writing and not starve. So what's the answer? I guess I'll have to wait and see what 2008 brings. I have a feeling it's going to be a good year!
Difficult question. All my life I've been that idealist who wants nothing less than artistic divinity. But of course, I'm no George Orwell or William Shakespeare, etc., so I have to accept that reality. Sorry, can't suspend my disbelief quite that far. But then again, who says the two things have to be mutually exclusive?
One fellow writer decided commercial success was the one way he could get paid and keep writing what he loves. He further added that he couldn't stand to have his work dissected by scholarly know-it-alls (what? English teachers like me? Naaa!) Of course my brainiac husband pointed out that the world of YA fiction rarely ever registers with the scholarly crowd, and of course I argued otherwise. But he did have a point. Of course JK Rowling has been the subject of plenty of scholarly debate, at least I would call it that. And as far as I'm concerned, she has both in her pocket. The HP saga will find its place in the classic canon, one way or another.
But then, I am the one who wants it all, as foolish as that may be. But I also realize that I have a lot more writing to do before I ever hone it to a point even on the outskirts of art. So what would I choose? The romantic in me wants to live on through my work. Hand me that classic, Mr. Newberry. But the practical part of me has seen poverty up close and would much rather have something for my kids besides potential riches after I'm dead. At least I would like to keep writing and not starve. So what's the answer? I guess I'll have to wait and see what 2008 brings. I have a feeling it's going to be a good year!
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Marauding Mushrooms, Electronic Dinosaurs...and Pigs!
Okay...here it is. As per Just Mom's request. The Pig! My daughter has been playing with non-stop, and just now asked me to find a Wilbur game for her on the computer--so she can keep the pig vibe happening.
Now she wants a red elephant, and my son wants a horse--color yet to be determined. It's good therapy for my anyway. Keeping my fingers nimble and giving me some relaxation, which I sorely need. Oh! And here's our little mushroom warrior preparing to take on the big boys in the back yard. So what if it's 38 degrees out! A pair of wellies and a warm coat are just the ticket for a backyard battle.
GO GET 'EM, BABY!
Mushrooms and Dinosaurs, Oh My!
My husband left on Thursday for his first interview and the MLA conference. My children spent the day dazzling me with their unbelievable resourcefulness and creativity. My 6-year-old ran around in a pair of lime-green capris, a t-shirt that reads "No Monkey Business; Bingo's Pet Shop--Going Bananas since 4000 B.C.," and a mushroom hat on her head. No kidding! A mushroom hat. She made the hat at the Winter Fair as part of a story. Meanwhile, my son is building a remote-control dinosaur out of Legos, until his buddy comes for a visit and all three of them run around with swords and capes and play hide-n-seek (the boys are 10--what good boys!). And what am I doing? Knitting a pig! Yep, I taught myself how to knit a few weeks ago, and now I'd like to do something a little more adventurous than great, long, rectangles. So, I followed a pattern and knit a pig. My daughter has been holding it and squeezing it ever since!
So where is my writing in all of this? In my head, ruminating. I was sick all during Christmas, so I'm giving myself a few more days to get my energy back and my brain fresh. Of course I've been a little pre-occupied with my DH's job search as well. He'll be back late tomorrow, but I can never sleep when he's gone. We have heard so little, and it's really making it hard to be positive, but I keep telling him, there will be more. I know there's a wonderful job waiting for him. I just hope it's not in the middle of the tundra!
So where is my writing in all of this? In my head, ruminating. I was sick all during Christmas, so I'm giving myself a few more days to get my energy back and my brain fresh. Of course I've been a little pre-occupied with my DH's job search as well. He'll be back late tomorrow, but I can never sleep when he's gone. We have heard so little, and it's really making it hard to be positive, but I keep telling him, there will be more. I know there's a wonderful job waiting for him. I just hope it's not in the middle of the tundra!
Saturday, December 22, 2007
The Party's over--whew!
Yes, yesterday was full of parties, songs, games, and a lot of tears. It was my last day as a Waldorf teacher. The children were a hoot. They had so much fun. And of course it was sad. As hard as this job has been, I felt so connected to them. Perhaps it's because it was so hard that I feel so close to them. And to their parents. I got a tremendous group hug at the very end of the day--8 or so children gathered around and squeezing me tight. I said it so quietly, but they heard it. "I could use 100 of these." Yep, those little sweeties squeezed me 100 times, counting each hug at the top of their lungs. They gave me some beautiful gifts, too. This is an experience unlike any other.
It was my son's last day there, too, and his classmates surprised him. One friend kept him busy on the playground while the others decorated his desk and pulled up the rocking chair, laying fur over it and preparing it like a throne. When he came into the room, they all yelled "Surprise!" and gave him a bag full of gifts. They really treated him like a prince. The Waldorf school creates more than a community. It creates a huge family.
This has been such a hard year, but I feel truly blessed. So much love! And of course, now that it's all over, I'm getting sick with that nasty cold. Just in time for Christmas. Now to sleep until Santa arrives...
It was my son's last day there, too, and his classmates surprised him. One friend kept him busy on the playground while the others decorated his desk and pulled up the rocking chair, laying fur over it and preparing it like a throne. When he came into the room, they all yelled "Surprise!" and gave him a bag full of gifts. They really treated him like a prince. The Waldorf school creates more than a community. It creates a huge family.
This has been such a hard year, but I feel truly blessed. So much love! And of course, now that it's all over, I'm getting sick with that nasty cold. Just in time for Christmas. Now to sleep until Santa arrives...
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