When you retreat

A few weeks ago I attended a retreat that met all my expectations--the Weekend on the Water  held by the SCBWI-WWA at the incredible IslandWood on Bainbridge Island.

One thing I really appreciated about this retreat was that organizers made the extra effort to reach out to participants, coming up to talk or sit at their table, rather than keeping to themselves. I know it made me feel welcome and comfortable. I imagine the dozens of people in attendance felt the same.

Weekend on the Water originally was held at a different place along Puget Sound.

IslandWood, which was developed to teach environmental awareness and sustainability, is deep in lovely forest, but there is water: The Pond.

A docent led those of us who were interested on a walk that included these marvels:

Tree House #1 is built so the central tree can move within a ring, swaying without disturbing the structure.
and
Tree House #2 where you can write in the woods or study the forest canopy

Suspension Bridge

 

 

Bird blind located at a bog, which is about 10,000 years old. A bog is an enclosed basin, whereas a marsh has water running through it. Since a bog is acidic it keeps trees stunted within the basin while they grow to full size along the perimeter.

Communal room in a sleeping lodge

Did I mention the FOOD? Some of the best I've eaten anywhere and I forgot to photograph its beautiful bounty until the last meal. So here is a salad in all its freshness.

The meals are served family style, and the staff goes above and beyond to be sure everyone has what they need.

Of course, this was a writing/illustrating retreat so there was solid programming that focused on ways to feed creativity by finding an art/life balance.

Kirby Larsen (Newbery Honor Book HATTIE BIG SKY) talked about how to slow down and sit with a problem awhile when frustration sets in. She suggested a drift journal to jot down seemingly unrelated stories to see where they may go.

Joni Sensel, who writes YA and middle grade fantasies, discussed the idea of liminal space and creativity. I loved the exercise of placing your character on a threshold/a doorway and see what happens. The unknown can be transformation, growth, or something monstrous. Whatever direction it takes it represents change.

One roundtable discussion yielded these ideas I find fascinating: Do some art for each chapter to get a refreshed view. Think of three disasters that could happen and a solution.

There was so much more, including inspiring talks from Candlewick illustrator Jennifer K. Mann and author Beth Bacon. If you can find such a retreat, go if you can, recharge your batteries and your heart.

today and its haiku

ghost trees loom in the
shroud of fog--I silently
tread down the mountain

Finding childhood and the fabulous Neil Gaiman

I came close to drowning in the Atlantic when I was four or five. My sister, who would’ve been fourteen, had taken me to the beach near our house in Oceanside, N.Y.

The funny thing is that I barely remember the fear. The image in the far reaches of my memory is a neighborhood girl a few years older than me deciding that I’d been using my inner tube long enough and she should have a turn. So she yanked it over my head. My initial reaction was outrage at being dumped, but that immediately turned to surprise that without the tube I sank. I hadn’t been taught how to swim. I flailed up and went under again. At some point, my sister who was chatting with friends on the beach noticed and came to rescue me.

There was helplessness in being so little and suddenly unanchored in the vastness of that water, of it rushing over my head. Each memory I have of those early years may be fading on the edges but every one of them carries some visceral punch: the blue-and-white feathers on the floor that were all my dog left of my parakeet; sitting abandoned at the kitchen table peeling the “skin” off canned peas I had to eat; fever dreams of hulking beings whose shadows and crazed chatter bled into waking hours; being swallowed by the skyscraper canyons when we went to the city; euphoria and power in becoming a witch or gypsy at Halloween.

Amazing as it is that we remember events from our early childhood, it’s even more awesome when a writer can settle deep into those moments, pulling up raw truth and turning it into a story new as dawn and old as time itself. Neil Gaiman’s THE OCEAN AT THE END OF THE LANE is one of those books for me, and is the reason I rummaged around my head for those early memories, wondering what I’d find, and then being awed yet again by Gaiman’s ability to wander the paths of childhood and unearth its joys and terrors.

The novel is only 178 pages but packs in a vivid story of mythic proportion. A middle-aged man attending a funeral decides to drive past his childhood home and finds himself continuing to the end of the lane where an old farm reveals his forgotten past.

 Truly frightening at times, it weaves the nebulous quality of memory and the ability of a child to see with both confusion and absolute clarity; there’s an honesty to children’s observations despite lack of experience (or maybe even because of it).

All sorts of labels could be attached to this book—fantasy, horror, magical realism, fable. To me, it’s just storytelling at its finest, the kind of tale that is true down to its very bones.

Here are some snippets in Mr. Gaiman's words:

It was dark, and our candles cast huge shadows, so it looked to me, as we walked, as if everything was moving, pushed and shaped by the shadows, the grandfather clock and the stuffed animals and birds…

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Ursula Monkton smiled, and the lightnings wreathed and writhed about her. She was power incarnate, standing in the crackling air. She was the storm, she was the lightning, she was the adult world with all its power and all its secrets and all its foolish casual cruelty. She winked at me.

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“Oh, monsters are scared,” said Lettie. “That’s why they’re monsters.”

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The water was cool on my foot, not cold. I put the other foot into the water and I went down with it, down like a marble statue, and the waves of Lettie Hempstock’s ocean closed over my head.

Writing and life in its wonder

My writing is rewriting (I've passed 71k, the end in sight!) these last few months, changing my fairy tale dramatically--tossing out whole scenes and writing completely new ones. My life may change dramatically, too, since I may move again, leaving this beach I love for something I hope will be new and filled with wonder. But it's pretty hard to beat this evening shot at the end of my block that picked up the green and made magic.

 

That kind of magical shift in perspective is what I want when I read fiction. I just finished Paul Rudnick's GORGEOUS. That story lives up to its title. Here's what I said on Goodreads:

 

Biting social commentary and characters who stuck with me after the story ended, GORGEOUS, is a fun and, often, funny read, which makes the reader think about important issues, like the way society views beautiful people, fat people, rich people, poor people, glamour, fashion, celebrities, royalty, well, just about anybody.

I adore the voice of the MC, Becky, who opens the story with: "I grew up in what some people would call a mobile home and what other snobbier people might call a manufactured home, but I was always fine with calling it a trailer. That's right, I said I grew up in a trailer. Fuck you."

Becky's mother weighed 400 pounds, and while most kids would be mortified by that, Becky loved her mother without reservation. But a strange and magical thing happens after her mother dies, Becky turns into the most beautiful woman in the world. I won't give away the plot but let's just say Becky discovers that being beautiful and famous and rich doesn't come without a pricetag.

This book is for anyone who likes smart, hilarious, thought-provoking fairy tales with happy endings.

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I feel like I'm on the cusp of some huge change, which carries with it a basketful of emotion. I see the world in all its terrible beauty. Here is a moment from last night when the sea reflected the sunset like an enamel artwork that encompassed the egret and me.

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Anyone going to the SCBWI summer conference? Look for me!

In which I eviscerate

Laurie Halse Anderson (SPEAK, CHAINS, WINTERGIRLS) tweeted something the other day that made me spew coffee. In part, she said, “Am busy eviscerating the middle part of my book. Ink & guts are everywhere.”

Since I was slicing out whole scenes of my manuscript, I felt a bit bloody myself.

For a long time, I knew the beginning of my story was weak, didn’t capture the protagonist’s voice as it shows up later. I’d also been told by some crit partners that the love interest was coming across as a creep. I tweaked. I revised. I subtracted a bit here, added a touch there.

 None of it worked. The unworkable scenes had to go. *cut* *slash* *burn*


I let my imagination run and a new idea popped up. It added depth to the characters and the world-building.

Some months ago, I had an amazing crit and brainstorming session with Kathleen Duey (SKIN HUNGER, SACRED SCARS). One piece of advice she gave me was to start over with a blank page. I thought I did by changing the protagonist’s POV from third to first, getting under her skin more and by altering some structural elements of the manuscript. But I still tried to save a lot of the original scenes. That was a mistake. It undermined the voice by dragging in elements from earlier versions.

So now I’m in the daunting position of a true rewrite, not tweaking. Amazingly, I’m looking forward to it, because the voice is stronger, the story is more alive and compelling. Already more than fifty pages in and feeling really good about what’s happening.

I found some other great comments on rewrite:

“I've found the best way to revise your own work is to pretend that somebody else wrote it and then to rip the living shit out of it.” – Don Roff (ZOMBIES: A RECORD OF THE YEAR OF INFECTION)

“There is a difference between a book of two hundred pages from the very beginning, and a book of two hundred pages which is the result of an original eight hundred pages. The six hundred are there. Only you don’t see them.” – Elie Wiesel (NIGHT)

“Books aren’t written--they’re rewritten. It is one of the hardest things to accept, especially after the seventh rewrite hasn’t quite done it.”—Michael Crichton (JURASSIC PARK)

“That’s the magic of revisions – every cut is necessary, and every cut hurts, but something new always grows.” – Kelly Barnhill (THE MOSTLY TRUE STORY OF JACK)

Read to me, please

I saw an article about how adults are flocking to hear stories read aloud at an art gallery. I got to thinking how I loved being read to as a child, how much I now love listening to audiobooks, and how we go to booksignings in part to hear the author read a scene. There’s some deep, primal connection to the ancient art of telling a story to others.

(Image source: Yale Collection of Western Americana, Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library. Carl Mautz, cartes-de-visite photograph. Creative Commons license.)


One of my fondest memories, too, is reading poetry aloud with a friend in Ireland. We sat by a peat fire and read and read. It’s a sharing—give and receive—of images and human experience.

I’ve been thinking a lot about how stories are told, probably because I’m deep into rewrite of a fairy tale, which has changed quite a bit since its first version. And also because I’ve brought up the issue in some reviews recently on Goodreads.

There was a time when stories were mainly told by author-as-narrator. Today that sort of narrator is often considered old-fashioned, and many stories are told in close first person or third. This change propels us into the POV of the characters but deprives us of some of the bigger picture view of an authorly narrator.

I don’t think there is a right or wrong way. Some stories are made richer with a narrator, others may be stronger without. I do know that I realize I’d be telling my fairy tale in very different ways, depending on which path I journey on.

Here are links to the article in The Guardian on reading aloud to adults and in The New York Times discussing the role of narrator.

Among books/authors where I settle in and really enjoy the narrator are Neil Gaiman’s STARDUST, Ursula Le Guin’s A WIZARD OF EARTHSEA, Dianna Wynne Jones’s HOWL’S MOVING CASTLE.

Any thoughts on this? I’d love to hear them.

Shadow Girl, haiku mask poem

swish, hiss--the gray sea retreats
draws itself in, waits
for the moon to shift, release

sunlight seeps through clouds,
settling like pewter
beaten beneath us

I walk in Suzanne’s shadow,
hungry, eyes open,
ears attuned to hers

Ever heard of a mask poem? I hadn't until I read this guest post by Robyn Hood Black on Janice Hardy's blog.

In simple terms, it's writing a poem in the viewpoint of someone/something else, so you can get under the skin, into the heart and soul of a character. Since I already love writing my version of haiku, this seems like a fantastic tool for me--both as exercise with photo images and as character development for stories.

When I shot the above photo, I could see that one woman was active, doing what she pleased, and the other was following, there for the ride, for the excitement her companion generated. Even their body language shows that. Of course, I don't know these people, I am extrapolating for use as character development. In the poem, the shadow woman sees the world more clearly through her friend.

A bit of drabble

On her hazel-wood broom, Nannog swooped though a pine forest following her sharp nose to the sweep of the Pacific Ocean.

She could see the curve of earth where water met sky and smell sweet brine in the freshening breeze. She fell in behind a formation of pelicans, dropping into an elegant lineup skirting the lip of a rearing wave.

One dipped a wing tip into the mirror surface of cresting water. Nannog did the same with her broom. But the ocean knew not the witch. It swallowed her whole then spit out her long, orange braid upon the shore.

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Drabble: Flash fiction in precisely 100 words.
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Two shadows

After I took this shot of an egret, I noticed it was casting two shadows. What does that mean?

My best guess, since the sun is the light source, is that one of these shadows is reflected light. But it's also fun to think one is a ghost or the spirit of the bird aside from its body. Which is the real bird?

As a writer I like to think what that could mean in creating characters. The most complex characters have layers, which might reflect differently, be perceived in alternate ways by other characters and the reader.

I just read an interview, which tied in to this in a way.

From Shelf Awareness interview with Herman Koch, the Dutch author of THE DINNER, a tale told by an unreliable narrator.

"Instead of a character who reveals himself in the course of a narrative, I was thinking of Paul as a man who has something to hide. In the beginning we think that he is just protecting his privacy, and the privacy of his family, but in the end we find out that he has been hiding his "real self" from the reader--like most of us do, I think."

That's pretty interesting to consider when crafting a novel. Do we all have shadow selves? What do you think?

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P.S. I've got a guest post Monday, Nov. 19, from author Laurel Garver about using poetry techniques in fiction writing. Please drop in!

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Another P.S. This is amazing! Agent Sara Megibow is offering a 50-page critique just for commenting on Natalie Bahm's blog (random winner to be picked). The offer is meant to promote sales of THE SECRET UNDERGROUND, an MG novel whose proceeds benefit the family of a sick little boy. It is such a worthy cause and such an opportunity. Please check it out.

Seizing the moment

Several times a year, large, well-shaped waves fire up in Venice Beach. When they do, professional surf photographers show up ready to snap pictures of pros repped by companies selling boards, clothes, etc. Look closely and you'll see there's a guy in the curl of that wave.

It's all about seizing the moment, being ready for opportunity and willing to take a chance, which is useful no matter what you do. My life has been stressed and chaotic of late, so I'm trying to carve out time here and there to write and keep up with all you lovely people.

There is a great quote attributed to Thomas Edison: "Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work."

I intend to get out my tools (I have a new book THE PLOT WHISPERER WORKBOOK that will be a lot of work, without doubt, but also may take my rewrite to a new level.) That's what I'm striving for: the big wave.

Lastly, please check out my last post about the release of THE SECRET UNDERGROUND by Natalie Bahm if you haven't and consider buying a copy to help the family of a very sick little boy. Jayden, poor wee thing, is back in the hospital again. Thank you.

Retreat, retreat!

Hey, how was that writer's retreat, you might ask? I'm not posting tell-all pictures of round table discussions or people belting out Queen's "We are the champions," although that did happen (and I'm sure photos will surface...). Lyrics custom-made for writers, right? Karaoke night rocked. Agent Abigail Samoun put the cool into "Mack the Knife," and former stand-up comedian Karen Soliday sizzled Patsy Cline's "Walking After Midnight." What a night.

My phone camera came out, though, in reflective moments, which happened, too. Like this morning walk around a duck pond with a few other early risers.

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dabbling ducks jockey,
spreading frothy trails across
the olive-green pond

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This weekend event was held by the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators on the grounds of a religious retreat, which had the perfect blend of quiet areas and up-to-date facilities. Our four-person critique groups moderated by agents and editors were intensive and inspiring. Most of us did revising between sessions, coming out with stronger work before we went home.
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Letting my mind wander in the non-intense moments was restorative:

web invisible,
spider huge as an acorn
against the pale sky
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A grotto Mary
prays for eternity
in her rock cave
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The early-morning clouds shifted from pale pink and gold to white-against-blue quilts. On the eastern horizon one stark white thunderhead fist-pumped.

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So what's the take-away? I'm still processing, but some immediate thoughts:

Inspiration: It's hard to beat pros discussing your work with you, giving insight into what they think will make it better. Great advice was given by author/agent Jill Corcoran of the Herman Agency, Abigail Samoun, who was a children's book editor for ten years and now is an agent at Red Fox Literary and from Judy Enderle and Stephanie Gordon of Writers Ink. Heather Alexander, assistant editor at Dial Books for Young Readers, gave such substantive suggestions to each person that it was the buzz of the conference. Agent Jennifer Rofe of Andrea Brown Literary Agency came only for the final first-pages readings, so her comments came as one who hadn't heard earlier and longer versions.

Notes on writing and revising:
Learn to love revision. It's a time to explore.--Abigail
Look at every sentence and ask if it's developing the plot, the character, the world. If not, change it. --Heather

Fun: People had a good time despite the terror of reading their work in front of strangers and the horror of finding out how much work they still have to do if they hope to sell that work. Yeah, baby, no one said this is easy, so take a deep breath and try to enjoy the ride.

Deep breathing: Speaking of. The event included several stretch moments with Lynette Townsend, a certified Jazzercise instructor, who helped get the kinks out, not only for conference time but with tips for everyday desk work.

Organization: This almost deserves its own post. Every thing from check-in to meeting spots to meals was spot-on. I've rarely attended anything that ran so smoothly and was so well-planned in advance. Besides pre-event emails of our schedules and on-site print-outs, our name-tag holders included a little slip of paper with our individual schedule on it, so we'd never be clueless on where to be next. Just wow. On top of that, the organizers are all volunteer. I don't know everyone who helped out but here are some super-deserved shout-outs: Sarah Laurenson, Lee Wind, Nutschell Windsor, Marilyn Morton.

Would I go again? In a heartbeat.

The good things

I've had a terrible year as some of you know, but good things have happened, as they do, and I want to do a happy dance for some wonderful moments this summer.

Is this not the happiest little typewriter you ever saw? This bright watercolor surprised me when I opened an envelope with a note from writer/artist Faith Pray at Sacred Dirt, which read in part: "I offer a teeny bit of book swag and a very small painting I did to fuel your writing muse."

And there I was with a smile painted all over my face.

I admit my writing muse has been MIA, most likely due to the stress and grief I've been through, but I hope to keep working around that. In September, I'm attending the SCBWI's working retreat for a few days in LA. Anybody going?
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I've decided to leave this next photo as mysterious to you as it was to me: Easter Island comes to Venice Beach.

 

Not only giant heads but a carnival hit town that weekend. Except hardly anybody was on the rides, which looked time-shifted from the 1970s. It felt like something Ray Bradbury could've turned into a spooky story.
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We had a block party on our walk street, too. Venice Beach has residential streets that are pedestrian-only, with vehicle access in alleys behind homes.

It was fun, chatting, watching kids run about, eating. The food was amazing. I made these strawberries filled with cream cheese (just a tad of vanilla and sugar added) and sprinkled with sliced almonds. Big hit--easy, pretty and like healthy cheesecake.

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I met this colorful, friendly lady who vacations on her yacht in the marina during summer and lives in the desert Southwest other times of the year. Like me, she's had bouts with skin cancer, so she walks with this gorgeous purple parasol.

I love when someone turns an obstacle into a celebration.
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And, look! A guy reading on the beach! Doesn't this make your writerly, readerly hearts flutter?

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I hope everyone had a happy summer. May fall bring us a cornucopia of goodness.

And I have to mention a couple of book releases coming right up:  THE SEVEN TALES OF TRINKET by Shelley Moore Thomas and Natalie Bahm's THE SECRET UNDERGROUND. Two fantastic writers who will make the middle-grade readers in your life happy when you buy these books.

Don't diss the dragons

There are dragons in my dreams. They tell me their secrets from when the world began and how our stories intertwine.
I never cared about dragons one way or another. I didn't seek out books about them or draw their pictures when I doodled. I didn't pay much attention as to why they pop up throughout the world in many cultures with their leathery wings and spiked spines and fiery breath.
But, for whatever reason, they sought me out, whispering tales in my ears and making them spill out my fingers.

And now I see them.

All fired up after this weekend

I hope your weekend was as good as mine. SCBWI Writer’s Days rocked. One highlight: a case-study panel discussion with debut author Sara Wilson Etienne, (HARBINGER), agent Michael Bourret of Dystel & Goderich, and editor Stacey Barney of Putnam/Penguin.

 For the first time, the event took place over two days. I signed up for a workshop on revision with Stacey Barney, in which she shared her editing process. Priceless. The newspaper reporter in me never dies, so I took notes. I’ll pass along some tips and quotes, because they’re too good to keep to myself.

The panel: Sara started writing HARBINGER a decade ago. “I didn’t know how to write dialogue, so I decided to just skip it,” she said, getting the first of many laughs from the crowd. She put it away for a bit, then added characters and got her page count up to about ninety pages. Then she discovered SCBWI and attended events, leaning more.

 Finally, she was ready to pitch and had a session with Michael Bourret, but she’d misjudged what to bring. “It was an elevator pitch, and we were meeting for half an hour. I was babbling.” But finally she relaxed and started talking about what she loved. “If you start to pitch, and it falls apart, don’t stress out. Agents are people, too.”

Another tip she offered was not to rush into pitching and querying. “It’s about patience and making sure you’re ready.” So, the next time she met Michael at a conference she told him she was revising and not ready to submit although he expressed interest.

Michael told us how he reacted, “Okay, this person is really taking her craft seriously, so when it showed up, I read it overnight, which doesn’t happen very often.” The manuscript went through a couple rounds of revisions between them, which took about a year.

When he considered editors, Stacey Barney came to mind. Even though he knew she might not go for the genre he thought she’d love the writing.

 “I trust him. I took it with me on vacation, sat by the pool, reading this book,” Stacey said. “The writing sold me. It was fresh. It felt special and imaginative.” She started making notes as she read. “If I care enough to have a pen in my hand on submission, I’m already editing, so I’ve bought it.” Normally, she reads through a new manuscript three times before fleshing out the editorial letter of places that need work.

“It was overwhelming,” Sara said when the letter arrived. “She’s great at giving you the good stuff first…I had a beer in hand. I recommend this to everyone.”

 Later, Sara talked about promotion and how her film and artist friends help her make a kick-ass book trailer and hold an art show of related works in an L.A. gallery. She also created a fake website for the story’s fictional school where she put up the artists’ work.

 If you wonder how to impress Stacey Barney think about these things she said in the workshop: “By the end of the first page, I want to feel invested in the character. I want a lot of heart and emotion to come across on the very first page.” “What’s the emotion you want them to walk away with? It’s not about the story it’s about how you’re telling me.”

 Here is her checklist for revision: Voice: compelling, prominent, tense? Characterization: personalities clear and compelling? Relationships: believable, important? Pace: slow, fast, how relate to plot points? Dialogue: does it develop character? Scene: 360-degree view? Setting: vibrant? Setting is a character. Writing: spare, lush, lyrical? What is the personality?

So, yeah, that’s a long checklist when you’re talking 300-plus pages of novel. But think how much tighter and dynamic the story would get.

There were many other good speakers, but I have to shout out Lee Wardlaw, who had us all rolling with laughter as she talked about what her cats taught her about being a children’s book author.

 Here’s a snippet from her award-winning WON TON, A Cat Tale Told in Haiku, about the adoption of a shelter cat:

 No rush. I’ve got plans.

Gnaw this paw. Nip that flea. And

 wish: Please, Boy, pick me.

(P.S. this is my first post with the new Blogger make-over, so I hope it doesn't publish wonky *fingers crossed*)

Weekend of loves

I've been waiting two months for this weekend when I'm going to SCBWI Writers Day in L.A. This was the treat I bought myself during the difficult days of my mother's trauma. It seemed so far away then and so much has happened in between.

Now, I'm shoulder-to-the-wheel to complete a synopsis for a mini-workshop Sunday with editor Stacey Barney, and I'm looking forward to Saturday's speakers who include agent Michael Bourret. Should be fun and interesting.

This weekend is packed with other events I hope get great turnouts, too.

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Heads up if you're in L.A. for the L.A. Times Festival of Books.

If y0u're in England, there's a celebration in Bristol of the life and writings of the extraordinary, wonderful Diana Wynne Jones.

Maggie Stiefvater alerted readers to this on her blog with her heartfelt appreciation to Jones.

I've written about my love of her books several times. She captures the wonder and imagination of children while grounding her fantastical stories in clever, wise ways.

One of my bookshelves is lined with her books. If you haven't discovered her, you've got lots of great reading ahead!

Publishers Weekly put this up. And GreenWillow Books.

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And last but way far from least is Earth Day. My beloved planet needs us to love her all the time, but, if you can, do something special this weekend. Plant a tree? Clean a park? Make a donation to organizations that preserve wildlife habitat?

Tip: Here's a picture of my handy clean-up pincers that I've used in lakes and along beaches that get trashed. You can find this tool in dollar stores. It's cheap and works great at grabbing stuff without you having to bend over or soil your hands.

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Wishing you a happy, productive weekend whatever you do. Even if it's relaxing in a deck chair!

I finished my fairy tale!

Happiest of valentines to myself. I just wrote the last line of my YA fairy tale. 82,300 words ending in tears and laughter.

My little dragon was cheering me on these last few days. I think I wrote about 4k to get to the finish line.

My beta readers will be hearing from me as soon as I make a final sweep and swoop through the book.

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However, I'm still dealing with my mother's health and personal issues, meaning I'm about to go away for a few days again. No Internet at her place, either.

So I'll catch up with you all soon as I can.

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Wheee!

Finding solace & haiku

Oh, the aloe is on fire! Isn't this one a show-stopper? Just around the corner from our house in Venice is a gorgeous, Craftsman-style house, surrounded by aloes. The home belonged to the late Jerry Leiber, who wrote the lyrics for classic hits like "Hound Dog," Jailhouse Rock," "Kansas City," "Smokey Joe's Cafe" and tons more.

When he was still living, I was delighted to see him at the grand piano when I strolled past one day.

Walking, photographing and musing are some of my favorite things to do as you no doubt have noticed on this blog.

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You've probably also noticed how often I post beach photos. I can't help myself. Walking along shorelines is one of the places I find solace. I love the murmur of small tides, the rush of booming high surf, watching kids race in or surfers tear up a wave.

And then there are the things I find. This time it's just the way the late afternoon light was shining through a piece of kelp.

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sliver of stained glass

caught by the descending sun--

window to the sea

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Finally, I may be absent a lot in coming weeks. My mother broke her hip and isn't responding quickly to rehab. I not only need to keep an eye on her, but I may need to find long-term care, which is daunting. Meanwhile, I have a week vacation coming, luckily near where she is, so I will be trying to work on my manuscript, as well.

As soon as things settle down, I'll post less sporadically and come visiting you, as well. In the meantime, I wish you all well in writing, publishing or wherever you are at the moment. Peace.

Watch where you step

I'm much better this week and attended one of my critique groups yesterday. A discussion arose that I'd like to continue here.

My illustration is a stingray I found on the beach. Even out of the water, these poisonous creatures blend in to the background. Stingrays don't go out of their way to strike people with those venomous glands on their barbed tails. But if you step on one, you'll likely get stung.

This discussion has nothing to do with sea creatures. It's about stepping into trouble as a writer, especially if we write for middle grade through YA. We need to be alert, as we wade into our stories, about a lot more than plot, character development, pacing and grammar.

Because behind every story is a message, even if it's as basic as find-your-inner-strength-and- survive. The thing is, when you write for kids, any message may have a huge impact, even more than it does on an adult reader.

I want to be clear that I'm not saying we should be turning novels into platforms for a message, but there is no way to write an engaging story, with any depth, that doesn't have life experiences that lead to character growth, and, therefore, to a message of sorts.

This discussion is about abuse--whether it's parental alcoholism or drug use, a pedophile or a date-rapist--and how a writer deals with it in story. I'm not opposed to these topics. In fact, I was livid when there was a move to ban Laurie Halse Anderson's SPEAK, which is a tastefully written, harrowing tale about the fallout to a teen-age girl who is raped.

Kids need these kind of stories available to them, especially if it helps them deal with a situation already happening, let's them know they are not alone and that they aren't a bad person because something bad has happened to them.

They know a whole lot more about bad stuff than parents realize. What they need is guidance in processing that information. This can come through parents who have good communication with their children, through other trusted adults, or through books that don't hide the bad but show how to survive it.

That leads to the next part of the discussion. Dealing with it doesn't mean the author has to kill off the bad guys. We all know that lots of times in real life they get away and justice is not achieved. This is particularly true in historical fiction where the judicial system may have been weighted against the victim.

So what to do? I believe the answer lies in the personal growth of the protagonist, that somehow even if justice is thwarted, the protagonist learns an important thing and is now stronger and more able to avoid or survive bad things when they come.

Without that the story is too bleak, hopeless, and no kid needs that. In fact, I think the reason YA and middle grade stories have become so popular with adult readers is that there is usually that sense of hope.

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This was a bit of a ramble. I'd like to know if you've given this topic consideration and what you think. Any books you think work particularly well?

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P.S. I'm afraid my desire for discussion is on hold. My mother had to go in the hospital and I'm on the way there. Not sure how long I'll be gone. I'd still appreciate comments, but I may not respond right away. Thank you for reading, anyway.

Where I've been, where I'll go

What if you found a ladder into the sea?

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And discovered you were standing on the spine of a sea monster?

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I love where my imagination takes me. Now, if I would just let it help me finish the final lap of my fairy tale! Nearing 80K...

I sidetracked to join Twitter. Finally. Too much fun. Too many interesting people! Too many days gone by. Find me @triciajobrien

But here I am, posting about my wanderings on land and interwebz.

And! I went to the first meeting of a new crit group. We seem to be a pretty solid group of writers, so I'm encouraged. I still love my old group and will travel a gazillion miles to meet with them. Thrice this month, in fact.

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Where have you been wandering?

Gnomes and shapeshifters, oh my

Looked down in my garden and what should appear?

You tell me. Is is gnome, fairy of maybe the little hairy man from Neil Gaiman's STARDUST who serves Tristran a sumptuous plate of fried field-mushrumps?

But this is the mushrump itself!
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Peering in tiny faces in the fauna opened my eyes to all kinds of magical happenings.

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baby footprints

disappear in the sand,

gulls tracks appear,

and are gone

shapeshifters?

changling?

fairy transport?

what goes here?

What story comes to mind when you see faces where they shouldn't be and footsteps fading into what--thin air?

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Hope your long weekend was wonderful.

It was quite glorious--and as you can see, magical--here. At least inside my head. *meanders off in search of wonders*

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Secondly!!!! S. R. Johannes, who many of you will know from her blog Market My Words, is holding a book launch tomorrow, Tuesday, with a ton of fabulous prizes. Fill out the entry form and check in her blog or Twitter for all kinds of fun surrounding UNTRACEABLE, which earned a smashing review from Kirkus.

(sorry if the spacing is weird --I edited after pub and Blogger went wonky)