Kids and books and dirt, oh my

This kid's abandon makes me grin as he plays in the water near Marina del Rey, CA. Behind him looms a barge and dredging machine. In this post I'm going to link kids and digging and books. Trust me.

This multi-million-dollar dredging project has been going on for months. The dredger lifts up buckets of sediment to clear the boat channel, and the barge gets hauled miles south to dump the sand at other ports where its needed.

When I first saw that tall rig, I couldn't figure out what it was, so I walked a mile or so to the marina for a closer look. I was even baffled the first time I saw the barge being hauled to sea. Eventually, I put all the puzzle pieces together (and looked online for an explanation!). There are so many projects and jobs in this world that are discoveries to me.

Here's someone watching the barge being tugged out to sea by a smaller craft.

Anyway, I promised kids and books and digging. Yesterday as I walked the shore, a boy yelled, "Dig faster!" to his friend. They were trying to beat the tide as they burrowed into wet sand. Their energy and enthusiasm were contagious, and again, I had to smile. This time I was thinking of a middle-grade adventure I just read, THE SECRET UNDERGROUND by Natalie Bahm, which captures the excitement of kids digging tunnels, the problem of where to put the dirt so they go undetected, the dark secrets they uncover, as well as the value of friendship and loyalty.

I'm not going to give away more than that today, because I have a fun Q&A with Natalie planned for the week of Sept. 28, the release date. Natalie will talk about why she likes to write for middle-graders--that transition period between being a kid and a teenager. If you haven't heard that she's donating all proceeds from the sale of this book to the family of a sick, little boy, she explains why here. *
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More heads up: There's another middle-grade book I'm going to highlight, THE SEVEN TALES OF TRINKET by Shelley Moore Thomas. I plan to review it this coming week, because Shelley is going to hold a launch party Sept. 20 with all kinds of Trinket-swag. You don't want to miss her party or this delightful book.
UPDATE: Shelley is hosting two parties on the 20th--one on her blog and one at 6 p.m. at the Oceanside Barnes & Noble in Southern California. If you're anywhere in that neighborhood, it looks like it's going to be really fun.

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.

The continuing journey

A journey can begin in many ways.

It can be the act of traveling from one place to another, like this flight I took from L.A. to Phoenix. Or it can be a passage from one stage of experience to another, which was what drew me to Arizona in the middle of summer.

After days of sitting by my father's hospital bed, of being caught in a slipstream of my own making, I needed to take a drive.

I found a road that stretched for mile after mile through sparse brush and cactus. It was a relief to have a road almost to myself, no lanes packed with commuters and semis, no sense of jostle and push, just endless desert and sky.

And the occasional timeless mesa.

Out here I could let my thoughts go where they would. I had a lot to remember, a lifetime of love and regret to ponder, as my father faced the last journey he would ever take, one in which he had to travel alone with no luggage, no map to guide him.
I drove my rental car up, up, up a steep mountain road, needing to keep going, not knowing where. I came upon this.

When I stumble on nature in all its terrifying, stupendous glory, I'm reminded that we are the short-term visitors on this planet. Each of our lives, which seem so intensely important as we live them, is but a blink in the universe.

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My father's death came right before this year's WriteOnCon. I thought I would sit this one out. For those who don't know, the event is a free online conference for writers of children's lit. Tons of editors, agents and authors come together to talk  writing, revising, publishing.

I stuck my nose in, just to check it out. Next thing I knew, I'd decided to put a small sample of a WIP on the forum boards. Soon I was devouring the live chats, posts and critiques.

This year, the event helped me step back into life, but not just because it's inspiring and informative, which it is, but because of the people. There is so much good will, so many helping hands. And that's what life should be about.
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None of us knows when our journey's exit will be here, but there's a lot we can do to make the ride itself worth the price of the ticket.

Swept up in a caper

Woo-hoo, what a fun read! I've had Heist Society for a year or two, bought on a whim and buried in the TBR pile. I'm so glad I picked it up to read yesterday also on a whim and then couldn't put it down. A brilliant teen protagonist and her crew get into danger way over their heads. Or maybe not.

I loved all the art references and historical import embedded in this thrilling mystery/caper about a family of thieves and con artists. Fun and smart is a winning combo. Ally Carter you've got a new fan.

Here's a sample from the opening chapter, which says a lot about Kat and her family:

"Kat's bags were packed in twenty minutes. She might have lingered, saying her good-byes, but there were no good-byes to say. And so, after three months at Colgan, Kat couldn't help but wonder if the day she got expelled from boarding school might become the proudest moment of her family's long and colorful past. She imagined everyone sitting around Uncle Eddie's kitchen table years from now, telling about the time little Katarina stole a whole other life and then walked away without a trace."

There are hot boys, of course, but, like the rest of this story about beautiful things, they are far more than eye candy. Here's another writing sample, still early in the story but setting up the danger to come:

"She tried to pull away, but Hale's chest was pressed against hers. His hands were warm against her skin. There was a new urgency in his voice as he whispered, 'Listen to me, Kat. He's not a bad guy like your dad and Uncle Eddie are bad guys.' He took a deep breath. 'Like I'm a bad guy. This guy? His name's Arturo Taccone, and he's a whole different kind of bad.' In the two years since she'd met him, Kat had seen Hale wear a lot of expressions: playful, intrigued, bored. But she had never seen him scared before, and that, more than anything, made her shiver."

And, finally, here's a snippet of a scene when she is closing in on the terrible secret at the center of this mystery:

"Despite the freezing wind, she pulled her black ski cap from her head. In the glass of the door's small window she saw her hair standing on end, felt the static coursing through her--a charge that had been building for days. She knew answers lay behind that red door. Not all. But some. And she feared that if she turned to walk away now, gripped the metal railing of the stairs, the charge might stop her heart."

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For regular followers of my blog, my father did pass away last week. I will, no doubt, write more about that loss, but I don't want to now. There is gratitude that I spent time with him and we talked, as well as grief, of course. Lauren Oliver's Liesl & Po, which I wrote about in the last post, helped me tackle some issues, and this review of Heist Society is just what I needed to regain my footing in life, which goes on and is always filled with import and wonder despite its sorrows. And, anyway, my dad loved to read and he always enjoyed a good mystery. Here's to you, Dad.

Writing from the heart of loss

I haven't had an easy time reading lately due to life stuff, but as soon as I picked up Liesl & Po I was sucked in. Perhaps it was because my father is dying and the the first line of this MG novel is "On the third night after the day her father died, Liesl saw the ghost." I felt drawn to the story then, as if it was meant to be read at this time, and, also, I'm a fan of Lauren Oliver's storytelling, having loved the incredible YA books, Before I Fall and Delirium.

Liesl has been locked in the attic of her family home by her stepmother since her father took ill. Po, a shadowy figure who exists in the Other Side, comes to visit her, curious about the pictures she draws. He helps her escape whereupon she meets Will, another orphan escaping from wicked adults. This has the feel of a Gothic fairytale for kids, dealing with the murky concepts of life after death, of the possibility of ghosts and why they stick around, of something else beyond that in-between place. I thought Oliver did a good job of exploring these concepts and their nebulousness.

Here is a sample of when we meet Will, the mistreated apprentice of an alchemist who sends him on errands at all hours of the night: "As he walked down empty street after empty street, past row after row of darkened houses, in silence so thick it was like a syrup that dragged his footsteps away into echoes before he placed a heel on the ground, he had imagined it perfectly: how he would come around the corner and see that tiny square of light so many stories above him, and see her face floating there like a single star."

And Liesl as she remembers life before the attic: "And so she squeezed her eyes tight and climbed down the tower of months she had been in the attic, reaching back into the rooms of her memory that were dusty and so dim she could catch only little, flickering glances of things. There! Her father leading her into the shade of the great willow tree, patterns of green dancing across his cheeks."

And here is a sample of Po's reaction when Liesl tries to grab the ghost's hands. The ghost's gender is nebulous, as well, by the way: "Po could pass through brick walls without feeling a thing; it could disperse into currents of air without pain. But it had felt the girl's hands, somehow, as though she'd been able to reach in and pull at Po's Essence. Essence was not a physical matter, Po knew. No one could touch it. No one could destroy it either; that was the nice thing about Essence."

And that is the nice thing about Liesl & Po, it lets us imagine the possibility of something beyond our troubles, to find comfort in friendship, to accept the wonder that is the essence of those we love.

When I read Oliver's Author's Note, I knew why the book resonated so well with me. She had written this story from the heart of loss, after the death of her best friend. She says writing isn't an escape, it's a way back in, a way to make sense of the world. And so is reading sometimes.

My dad

My dad is in the hospital. Very weak. Fluid around his heart. A growth on his lung.

I feel like this hat. Lost. Beat up. Waiting for the tide to carry me to the deep, as it has too many times this past year.

You'd think I'd be used to it.

I am not.

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I have a journal I gave him as a gift (blank), which he filled up and sent back to me some years ago. I'm reading it again, seeing his life through his eyes.

Here are a few lines from his lifelong love of travel and adventure:
"Our first stop was Bermuda...the island could not hide its beauty, and I knew I would visit it again sometime, somehow." (He did indeed return and ended up living there awhile with my mother and sister.)

"Fez is built on a hill, overlooking two valleys landscaped with date and palm orchards. The city is over a thousand years old and at one time had constructed a tall wall around the outer perimeter to protect themselves from enemies. Most of the buildings are white with red slate-tiled roofs and , as you approach the city from a distance it appears to be shimmering."

At the journal's end he wrote: "Well, at least I got as far as Shanghai. I'll get another book and continue..."

Flying high on DEVINE INTERVENTION

Time for a little book love. This one has wings. Well, not the way you think...

There's one thing I have to say about Martha Brockenbrough's YA novel DEVINE INTERVENTION before anything else:

Great voice!

Seriously, I don't know how she found Jerome's voice but it is golden.  Jerome, a bit of a screw-up with attitude, gets shot in the head with his cousin's arrow and finds himself in soul rehab, where he's assigned as guardian angel to Heidi Devine, a girl with confidence issues. Of course, he immediately "loses" his guardian angel handbook and does as he pleases.

On her website, Ms. Brockenbrough calls herself an author of books for smart kids and juvenile adults, which couldn't be more on mark. This book is clever, hilarious, honest and insightful for almost any age.

 Can I, or may I, say again how great the voice is? Because I have to. The story is told in two POVs--Jerome in first person and Heidi in third.

 At the end of the first chapter when Jerome reflects on his failed school assignment in 8th grade to take care of an egg all week as if it were a baby, we discover he has some pretty complex layers: "At school the next day, I didn't tell Mrs. Domino it was my pop who ate my egg baby. Even with how things were at home, I have a rule about not ratting because I don't do that to family, no matter what. So I told her I did it, and that it tasted excellent. Because if you're going to get in trouble anyway, you might as well go out in a blaze of glory. That has always been my style. Which explains a lot about the thing that happened later with Heidi."

Life is messy and complicated and this story doesn't pretend it isn't. This is no angel saves the day tale. It is full of misunderstandings and mistakes made by Jerome and Heidi, but they both see the world and other people differently by the end, and, in one way or another, save themselves. And, speaking of the end, this one is a shocker.

Peace to you, Sage Stallone

The world has lost a fine storyteller with the untimely death of Sage Stallone at 36. My heart aches for a death so young and for the terrible loss to his family.

I interviewed Sage in 2006 when I was a features writer for a daily newspaper (The Press-Enterprise) and I annually covered the Palm Springs International Film Festival. Sage's short film "Vic" played the festival.

He was 30 at the time, and I was so impressed that he'd chosen to write and direct a character-driven film about an aging actor whose career and life were in free fall.

"All my life I've been into film and following the careers of actors who once their contracts expired they were nowhere to be found," Sage said in that interview. "It always intrigued me and bothered me at the same time." Some of those actors died in near-poverty, some took roles in low-budget horror films to get by.

 Because he knew actors like that he said he sometimes had trouble watching his own film. "It makes me sad," he said. "It affects my soul."

Sage paid his own dues as an actor and an assistant to cinematographer Vilmos Zsigmond. When he was only 19 he used his earnings from film work to purchase the rights to horror classics, which he re-mastered and presented uncut on DVD. He was passionate about film.

I'm disturbed by conjecture about whether his death was suicide or drug overdose. I don't pretend to know the answer, but I do know the person I talked to was vibrant and compassionate and had a whole lot to offer the world.

My thoughts are with his family and friends.

Nine lives and counting with Sarah Wylie

Two-for-one! This post is longer than usual because it contains my Goodreads review of Sarah Wylie’s debut ALL THESE LIVES and a lovely interview with Sarah. So if you already read my review, skip on down to find out what Sarah has to say about writing, procrastinating and playlists.

 Review: If someone you loved was dying, what kind of deals would you make with God or the Universe or whatever might have the power to change things? What would you try if you believed you had nine lives and your twin had been granted only one and it was faltering? This is what drives Dani, the teen protagonist of ALL THESE LIVES.

 I loved this book. That's the first thing I have to say. Second, I've followed Sarah Wylie's blog since before she had a book deal. What drew me there was her humor, fresh take on the world and her oh-so-clever commentary. I pretty much figured I was going to like her debut novel, because I already liked her writing style and spirit. I not only like this book, I'm stunned by the risks Sarah took, or I believe she took, in developing this character, who is flawed and absolutely authentic. Dani tugged at my heart.

 A few reader-reviewers have said they dislike Dani because she is sarcastic and sometimes verbally aggressive, but this is the very thing that is so real in this story. Dani wasn't always this way. She is doing what so many kids, or even adults, do when they're helpless and afraid, she's striking out, and because she's smart she often uses barbed words. Even she knows it's inappropriate. She does it anyway until she learns some things about herself, her family and her friends.

 What is so beautiful about Dani is the way she tries to use up her extra lives to buy her sister more time. Other people see a girl acting up or looking for attention when she does crazy stuff and gets hurt. She never tells anyone that she's bartering with the universe and doesn't believe she deserves to be spared while her sister is destroyed.

When I was a newspaper features writer I did a series of articles on a teenage girl with leukemia. She was undergoing bone marrow transplant, and I clearly remember her younger sister standing in the shadows of her sick sister, their parents, the doctors. It's a tough place for a kid to be. I was awed by how Sarah not only got that but built an unexpected story around it.

Recently, I wrote about Patrick Ness's A MONSTER CALLS, another book with a kid protagonist facing cancer in a close family member. That boy, too, acts out in frustration and tries to survive in a terrifying situation. Both Ness and Wylie found extraordinary ways to help their characters cope and grow.

 Sarah put a short prologue on this story that is breathtaking: This is how it feels to die. It starts from outside and works its way in. Your cuticles, the tips of your fingers. Fire under your nails that spreads into your bones, burning and freezing everything it comes into contact with. Your arms, your ankles, your teeth, your knees, your stomach, and the place where your heart should be. Your heart is always the last to go. One hundred irregular beats per minute, and then zero. But that's just the start. The start of dying. This is the rest.

 Sarah graciously agreed to an email Q&A, which I hope you enjoy:

 Q: How did this story develop? Did it begin with an idea of a girl who thought she had nine lives? Or with a character who is helpless in the face of her sister's illness? Or something else?

Sarah: At the very start, the story was going to be from Jena’s perspective – about her illness and her family’s attempts to cope with it. But as soon as her sister, Dani, showed up, I knew the story was hers. She had such a distinctive voice, and I couldn’t get it out of my head. The idea of Dani having nine lives came along later. I’d figured out that the story was Dani's, but I wasn’t quite ready to start writing it. Something seemed to be missing.

 So I did what I do best – procrastinate. Actually, I called it “making a playlist.” And in the process of doing so, I came across the song “All These Lives” by Daughtry, which isn’t about having multiple lives, but the idea for Dani’s nine lives popped into my mind, and I finally felt ready to write the story. Take-home message: er...procrastinate?

(Insert your goofy blog host laughing and loving that she can now make a playlist and her WIP will fall neatly into place. :D )

 Q: Did you have any personal experience that led to this story idea, or did you become interested through research in how siblings cope with traumatic illness? Was there anything surprising in what you learned?

 Sarah: Thankfully, All These Lives didn’t come from one particular personal experience. But the last few years, I’ve watched many people I care about go through enormous loss. There was a period of time when I was completely paralyzed by this fear of something happening to the people I love most, of being powerless and unable to help them in any way. I wanted to capture that a little bit in All These Lives. Most of the research I did pertained to the medical aspect of the book. I tried to trust the fear and uncertainty I’d been battling with personally in writing the more emotional aspects.

Q: Did the story change much from concept to final book?

 Sarah: I don’t think there were any huge changes to the story from concept to final book. The heart of the book, the characters, and plot were always pretty much what you see in the final version. Which isn’t to say that the book didn’t need quite a bit of revision, but most of the changes were smaller things; things like pacing and consistency (it turns out there are 26 hours in a day!). We also worked quite a bit on Dani’s belief that she has nine lives.

 Q: How would you describe the personal journey for you from idea to publication?

Sarah: The journey to publication has definitely been an adventure. It has been more than I ever thought it would be. In every sense of the word. More surprising, more eye-opening, more terrifying, more humbling. I’ve learned so much about the publication process (and writing! And revising!), but there’s still so much I’m learning. I feel really grateful to work with the people I do, and to have gone on this incredible journey.

Kirkus review
Amazon
IndieBound
Barnes&Noble
The Book Depository
Macmillan
Book trailer

Sarah's next young adult novel is scheduled for release in 2013.

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.

Lost

When are we lost? When we can no longer see our path, find our way?

When we no longer care where our feet lead us?

When our feet don't move at all?

When the contents of our lives become untethered?

A couple of weeks ago I saw a single, filigree earring half-buried in shore sand. I walked on a little way, thinking I should do a post on things lost, so I turned around and went back to photograph the earring. I couldn't find it again. Sometimes things and people are truly lost and stay that way.

But I went looking for lost things again and found some and thought about how melancholy I was feeling. The water-logged spiral notebook in the drowned tote above made me wonder if a writer or student lost their musings and creations to sea and sand. Did the bag fall from a boat, off the pier? (I directed the county harbor crew to it, by the way.)

 I've lost a lot of people this last year and some precious things, including faith in myself at times. It is the nature of life--birth and death, lost and found, doubt and confidence, joy and sorrow. Without the dark would we appreciate the light?

Heroes, sung and unsung

Most days, news feeds batter us with financial disasters, killing fields and other disturbing results of human behavior. But sometimes people do things that are wonderful, and they deserve more notice than they usually get.
So here is a little story of two women who met while blogging:
Natalie Bahm

and Wen Baragrey

The vast Pacific Ocean separates them geographically, but they became critique partners, sharing their works-in-progress and the stories of their lives. (as a disclaimer, I should say I've known both Natalie and Wen through blogging for several years and have shared works-in-progress with Wen)

Enter the horrific earthquakes that tore apart Christchurch, New Zealand where Wen lived. During this, Wen's daughter was pregnant with a child who wasn't supposed to live. But Jayden did fight to be born and survive, and that meant being in hospital with a sick baby while the earth continued to rumble and buck.

To shorten this story, fast-forward to a decision by Wen and Jayden's parents to move to the stable ground of Australia. Jayden's health problems were far from over, however, and he needs special care and living environment.

I'm going to skip to what Natalie did. She decided to hold an online auction to raise funds to help Jayden's family care for him. I don't know all the behind-the-scenes work or who did what, but that meant calling for donations, setting up a website, writing the content for each item with photos and links, setting up payment option, hosting the auctions and contacting the winners.

The auction has been going on for a week with the critiques offered by agents garnering the heaviest bidding. There were many other contributors--authors and artists, who helped give this struggling family a boost. They all deserve thanks for their generosity.

Natalie wasn't done, though. She announced this: "After some thought, I’ve decided, as a personal gift to Jayden, to donate all of the proceeds from my middle grade novel UNDERGROUND to his family. UNDERGROUND is a sweet, back-yard adventure.  It will release early fall 2012, and will be available in both eBook and print.  My agent, Sara Megibow, has helped make this donation possible.
UNDERGROUND’s publication is sure to be an adventure, and, with any luck, it will also be another way to help Jayden and his family."

How extraordinary is that?

There are still a few items left to bid on until the auction is completely over, so please check it out. Or you can also make a direct donation to the family here. And don't forget to order UNDERGROUND--it should make a fine holiday present in more ways than one.

Best voting spot in the world

So, yeah, I voted in my state's primary elections today. I hope your voice is heard, too. As a woman, I respect how much the suffragists/suffragettes actually did suffer to gain this right for me.

My polling place has to be the best. The view out front:

Or if you turn your head:

Our polling place is inside the lifeguard headquarters building. Here's a view taken on a pastel night:

Please don't forget about the auction for HelpBabyJayden. So many good things up for bid--agent and author critiques, signed books, artworks.

Critiques, signed books, custom art--come on down!

Ever been to an auction? You don't need to worry about understanding the speed-talking auctioneer for one I'm pointing you towards. This one is easy-peasy online and proceeds help a sick child and his family. Win-win.
I wrote about Jayden here or you can just go to his blog site and check out the auction items. There will be about five new items a day this week and you have several days to make your bid. The rules are spelled out and simple.

For starters, there are manuscript critiques, a custom artwork, signed books and a commemorative picture frame given to people who worked on The Hobbit film. So take a chance, please. You might win the item and help someone at the same time. Thank you!

of shadows and sand

Sometimes I'm a shadow and the sea is not much more.

Sometimes I write haiku because it comes on the breeze.

pillows of sea foam--
rainbow sparks until drifting,
vanishing sand clouds

Sometimes I love this world.

Baby love (and a plea)

Isn't this little guy too cute in his Spidey glasses? He's also too sick, and I'm asking you to read his story, please.

Jayden had his first surgery when he was only 24 hours old. There have been many more procedures in his short life, but he keeps fighting.

I've been blogging buddies, long-distance writing pals, with his grandmother, Wen Baragrey, since before her daughter became pregnant, since before they knew her unborn child wasn't doing well, since before their home in Christchurch, New Zealand received a pounding in a series of unrelenting earthquakes.

Jayden was born and required frequent trips to the hospital, even as the ground kept shaking and terrorizing the people of Christchurch. Finally the family decided to relocate to Australia where they now live. But Jayden still needs help, and that's why I'm writing this post.

Wen has established the HelpBabyJayden blog to tell his story. There is also a donation page with Australia's MyCause. If you can give anything, it will be a blessing to this family as they struggle to meet Jayden's needs.

Another blogging friend, Natalie Bahm, has set up an auction to begin June 2. There will be books, critiques and art offered for bid.

Please do whatever of these things you can--spread the word, donate an item to the auction, attend the auction, make a donation to the MyCause site. Thank you so much.

Sometimes it's brutal out there

Once again Paolo Bacigalupi delivers a superbly written YA novel. Breathtaking. Brutal. Significant.

He won a Printz award for the first book, Ship Breaker, set in this world--a future America where war lords force kids to fight for them, torturing, enslaving or killing everyone in their way. I think my favorite character in The Drowned Cities is Tool, a horrific half-man created by scientists as an ultimate soldier. Tool breaks from his controllers and develops his own alliances and moral code.

This book has teeth and will chew on you like a coywolv with a bone.

 Here's an early description of Tool: Though it walked like a man, when it bared its teeth, tiger fangs showed, and when it pricked up its ears, a jackal's ears listened, and when it sniffed the air, a bloodhound's nose scented. The soldier had seen it fight in the ring enough times to know that he would rather face a dozen men with machetes than this hurricane of slaughter.

This story is harsh, if you haven't realized that already, here is a snippet of a wounded warboy talking to the main character, a mixed-race girl named Mahlia: Gold-flecked eyes studied her, unblinking. "Got to learn quick if you want to stay alive. Drowned Cities eats stupid for breakfast." He straightened, pushing himself up in bed, wincing. "'Spect you know that, though. I ain't seen a cast-off in more than a year. Last time I saw a girl like you, LT had her head on a stick."

The character development, dialogue, setting and world-building are all well done. Add that to issues raised about the choices people make when faced with war (Do you charge into danger to save a friend? Do you do whatever it takes to survive? Do you allow lines to blur between right and wrong?), and this book has import.
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I also want to acknowledge Jean Craighead George, who died this week. She was 92 and had written more than one hundred books, including the Newbery-winner Julie of the Wolves, which transported its readers (young and older) into the life of a wolf pack on the tundra.

 It is such a beautiful and important book that I've been disturbed by people who routinely try to ban it from school libraries because the young girl protagonist flees to the tundra after an arranged marriage leads to a sexual assault. There is nothing graphic about the scene. Sometimes bad things happen. What is important is how people deal with them, and Ms. George gave Julie the tools and smarts to save herself.

Through her many books, she brought the wonder of nature into our lives, and I, for one, am grateful.
The New York Times wrote a wonderful tribute to her.

Facing a monster within

Every once in awhile there comes a book that is extraordinary. This is one of those.

 Even the story of how it became a story is extraordinary. After the untimely death of author Siobhan Dowd, Patrick Ness was asked if he would write a book from a framework she'd begun. In a note at the front of A MONSTER CALLS, Ness writes:"I felt-and feel-as if I've been handed a baton, like a particularly fine writer has given me her story and said, 'Go, Run with it. Make trouble.' So that's what I tried to do."

 Then there is the opening: "The monster showed up just after midnight. As they do." Right away, I'm invested. The story takes off from there as a boy, whose home life is sad and on the brink of catastrophe, discovers his particular monster leaves calling cards and gets him in trouble.

The black-and-white illustrations by Jim Kay are gorgeous and disturbingly frightful. And, for me, they have the added bonus of being a form of the Green Man, a mythical being that fascinates me. (Snippet: "Every time the monster moved,Conor could hear the creak of wood, groaning and yawning...")

I might classify this as magical realism since the story is set in contemporary times and is about cancer, loss and love, not mythic realms.

The monster tells Conor stories, but they have endings he doesn't expect or like. The strongest element of this tale is the ways we hide the truth from ourselves, how we let our minds trick us, how we refuse to see, and what it costs to admit the truth when it is terrible and leaves us gutted. That is what the monster has come to help Conor face.

The final pages made me cry. And cry some more.

Where the wild things live forever

There have been magicians in the world of children's writing and, surely, Maurice Sendak was one. He died today, and I'm crying for the loss of man I never met face-to-face, but I loved him just the same.

 He gave us truth and courage and wondrous possibilities by changing and challenging the landscape of books for children. The world was not all blue skies and kites in Sendak's stories.

 Children misbehaved, faced their monsters and figured out a thing or two about surviving this world: But the wild things cried, “Oh please don’t go - we’ll eat you up - we love you so!” And Max said, “No!” The wild things roared their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth and rolled their terrible eyes and showed their terrible claws but Max stepped into his private boat and waved goodbye.

 I get goosebumps reading the next lines, which say so much about the fluidity of time and memory: and [he] sailed back over a year and in and out of weeks and through a day...

Maurice Sendak wrote and illustrated many books besides the Caldecott medal winner, WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE, of course.
 I adored reading the joyful CHICKEN SOUP WITH RICE: A Book of Months out loud to my daughter:
 In January
 it's so nice
 while slipping
 on the sliding ice
 to sip hot chicken soup
 with rice.
Sipping once
 sipping twice
 sipping chicken soup
 with rice.

 Oh, please don't go, Maurice, we love you so. But since you must thank you for the stories you gave us. They will live on and on in our hearts, in our minds and in book collections everywhere.
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Listen to Maurice Sendak read WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE.