Thursday, November 29, 2007
I Am Not Alone
Just came back from my critique group with renewed energy. What a great group of writers! I am very lucky. What makes me even happier is that just being around them helps me to feel that I am not alone. They are all mom/writers with young kids and are all published. They understand the trials of trying to have a family and a full-time career as a children's writer. I have another close friend who understands this, but lives far away, so I can't see her as much as I would like to. She would benefit from this group, too. I love my other writer friends very much, but it's also nice to be around writers who know what it's like to try and squeeze in a couple of hours of writing two or three times a week between runny noses, diaper changes, messy, toy-infested houses, and husbands wanting quality time. They all have more than one child, too, which is a comfort since it shows me that writing can be done with two children! I'm scared to death of what it will be like to have two and try to write. Well, I will find out soon enough...
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
America Earns an "F" in Reading for Pleasure
Just read on the Publisher's Lunch listserv about the new NEA Report. Check out what Publisher's Lunch said about it:
As Different Sparks Fly from NEA
But right before Jeff Bezos took to the podium to introduce a device designed squarely for core "pleasure readers" with disposable income, the NEA dropped their latest reading scare release. Analyzing a wealth of government data (approximately two dozen studies) instead of a single survey, this report sounds a new alarm--that "reading for pleasure" is in decline.
NEA Chairman Dana Gioia sums it up this way: "We are doing a better job of teaching kids to read in elementary school. But once they enter adolescence, they fall victim to a general culture which does not encourage or reinforce reading. Because these people then read less, they read less well. Because they read less well, they do more poorly in school, in the job market and in civic life."
Or at least reading in print, every day, for pleasure, which is really what the study measures. By their own admission, the report is severely limited by "its lack of specific data about online reading" because the "research is not yet strong."
Oddly, one of Gioia's recommended solutions is more coverages of books in popular culture: "I guarantee that if we could expand the coverage in the media, you'd immediately see people responding. People are looking for things to do that aren't dumb. I don't think that Americans are dumber than before, but I do believe our public culture is."
Or...what if we could get the administration Gioia serves less focused on relentless testing and measuring in schools and more focused on actually teaching and conveying a love of reading (and learning)?
In another ironic coincidence, the film version of Beowulf topped the box office over the weekend.
(Washington Post)
----------------
This is so sad and scary, but not really anything new. Reports like this seem to come out all of the time, but that doesn't mean that I like it. It makes me think just how hard of a time I'm going to have trying to teach Little Scribe and Baby Scribe to have a life-long love of reading. Little Scribe definitely loves books now, his favorites currently being LITTLE TOOT by Hardie Gramatky, HAVE YOU GOT MY PURR by Judy West, the original CURIOUS GEORGE, and HERE WE GO ROUND THE MULBERRY BUSH. I shudder to think that he might lose this love for reading that he has when he goes into middle school. Well, not if my husband and I can help it. Hopefully, he will sense our own love for reading as he grows up, and books will remain a natural part of his life instead of something forced on him in adolescence.
I received a free issue of PARENTING magazine and browsed through the Best Holiday Toys of 2007 article. To my horror, one of the "best" toys for ages 3-5 is something called a Smart Cycle by Fisher Price. You plug this stationary bike into the T.V. and play "educational" video games while getting exercise riding the bike (to help with childhood obesity, I'm guessing.)
Is anybody else appalled by this toy? I mean, first of all, how about having the kid go outside and play (or go to an indoor playground) so they can get "exercise," and secondly, do we really need to have kids start playing video games, whether they're educational or not, at age three?
Another "best toy" of the year for the same age group is a Clickstart My First Computer by LeapFrog that also hooks up to your T.V. so your little one can start getting addicted to video games, I mean, become smarter.
No wonder reading for pleasure is in decline.
As Different Sparks Fly from NEA
But right before Jeff Bezos took to the podium to introduce a device designed squarely for core "pleasure readers" with disposable income, the NEA dropped their latest reading scare release. Analyzing a wealth of government data (approximately two dozen studies) instead of a single survey, this report sounds a new alarm--that "reading for pleasure" is in decline.
NEA Chairman Dana Gioia sums it up this way: "We are doing a better job of teaching kids to read in elementary school. But once they enter adolescence, they fall victim to a general culture which does not encourage or reinforce reading. Because these people then read less, they read less well. Because they read less well, they do more poorly in school, in the job market and in civic life."
Or at least reading in print, every day, for pleasure, which is really what the study measures. By their own admission, the report is severely limited by "its lack of specific data about online reading" because the "research is not yet strong."
Oddly, one of Gioia's recommended solutions is more coverages of books in popular culture: "I guarantee that if we could expand the coverage in the media, you'd immediately see people responding. People are looking for things to do that aren't dumb. I don't think that Americans are dumber than before, but I do believe our public culture is."
Or...what if we could get the administration Gioia serves less focused on relentless testing and measuring in schools and more focused on actually teaching and conveying a love of reading (and learning)?
In another ironic coincidence, the film version of Beowulf topped the box office over the weekend.
(Washington Post)
----------------
This is so sad and scary, but not really anything new. Reports like this seem to come out all of the time, but that doesn't mean that I like it. It makes me think just how hard of a time I'm going to have trying to teach Little Scribe and Baby Scribe to have a life-long love of reading. Little Scribe definitely loves books now, his favorites currently being LITTLE TOOT by Hardie Gramatky, HAVE YOU GOT MY PURR by Judy West, the original CURIOUS GEORGE, and HERE WE GO ROUND THE MULBERRY BUSH. I shudder to think that he might lose this love for reading that he has when he goes into middle school. Well, not if my husband and I can help it. Hopefully, he will sense our own love for reading as he grows up, and books will remain a natural part of his life instead of something forced on him in adolescence.
I received a free issue of PARENTING magazine and browsed through the Best Holiday Toys of 2007 article. To my horror, one of the "best" toys for ages 3-5 is something called a Smart Cycle by Fisher Price. You plug this stationary bike into the T.V. and play "educational" video games while getting exercise riding the bike (to help with childhood obesity, I'm guessing.)
Is anybody else appalled by this toy? I mean, first of all, how about having the kid go outside and play (or go to an indoor playground) so they can get "exercise," and secondly, do we really need to have kids start playing video games, whether they're educational or not, at age three?
Another "best toy" of the year for the same age group is a Clickstart My First Computer by LeapFrog that also hooks up to your T.V. so your little one can start getting addicted to video games, I mean, become smarter.
No wonder reading for pleasure is in decline.
Friday, November 16, 2007
An Update About My Day
I did end up writing character sketches, so my writing time wasn't a complete waste.
Just wanted to quickly write about where I'm headed tomorrow. I'm going on my own writer's retreat with a critique buddy to the Sylvia Beach Hotel in the historic Nye Beach section of Newport, Oregon. It's a book-lover's paradise since the bed and breakfast is dedicated to books and famous authors. Each room is even named after an author and decorated in their "style." In July, I stayed for two nights in the Jane Austen room. Copies of each of her novels lined the antique bureau. An afghan-covered reading chair sat in the corner. Crashing waves and a view of the ocean greeted me each morning.
Total bliss.
Check out their website at www.sylviabeachhotel.com.
Lord, please let my fingers fly over the keys!
Just wanted to quickly write about where I'm headed tomorrow. I'm going on my own writer's retreat with a critique buddy to the Sylvia Beach Hotel in the historic Nye Beach section of Newport, Oregon. It's a book-lover's paradise since the bed and breakfast is dedicated to books and famous authors. Each room is even named after an author and decorated in their "style." In July, I stayed for two nights in the Jane Austen room. Copies of each of her novels lined the antique bureau. An afghan-covered reading chair sat in the corner. Crashing waves and a view of the ocean greeted me each morning.
Total bliss.
Check out their website at www.sylviabeachhotel.com.
Lord, please let my fingers fly over the keys!
Just Rambling...
(written today at 10:00am)
Today I am finding it quite impossible to work on my novel. I am at Ken’s Artisan Bakery in NW Portland for a change of pace (and croissants) but to my amazement I can’t find any plugs for my laptop. Of course, my battery is dead, so I am stuck with doing the old-fashioned way of writing-- pen and paper. My notebooks are even all at home, so the only paper I have to use is the back of manuscript drafts. Oh well. It’s recycling, right? Better than not having any paper or a pen, for that matter. And the mini chocolate croissants are so good here! I like the hot chocolate, too, if only they could make it a bit hotter. (Tried twice)
I think I’ll try to write some character sketches using the Flemish art books that I’ve brought.
Hey, a corner seat has just opened up! I’m off to snatch it…
Aaah, much better. I hate floating in the center of a café. Must-have-wall-next-to-me-or-nearby.
No more procrastinating! I have to get something done today!
Today I am finding it quite impossible to work on my novel. I am at Ken’s Artisan Bakery in NW Portland for a change of pace (and croissants) but to my amazement I can’t find any plugs for my laptop. Of course, my battery is dead, so I am stuck with doing the old-fashioned way of writing-- pen and paper. My notebooks are even all at home, so the only paper I have to use is the back of manuscript drafts. Oh well. It’s recycling, right? Better than not having any paper or a pen, for that matter. And the mini chocolate croissants are so good here! I like the hot chocolate, too, if only they could make it a bit hotter. (Tried twice)
I think I’ll try to write some character sketches using the Flemish art books that I’ve brought.
Hey, a corner seat has just opened up! I’m off to snatch it…
Aaah, much better. I hate floating in the center of a café. Must-have-wall-next-to-me-or-nearby.
No more procrastinating! I have to get something done today!
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Confessions of a Bibliophile Mama (and Other Thoughts on my Mind)
(Written on November 8th in coffee shop at Powell’s City of Books in downtown Portland, 11:40am)
I spend too much money on books. But I can’t help it. I LOVE books more than mint chocolate chip ice cream and a trip to Paris combined!
Okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but I really do love them. My dream is to have a library in my house. When my husband’s office is done and I can move into his little cubby hole of a room, I’m going to make it a library. Of course, I am going to share the space with our new baby boy and his basinnet (the room has a convenient door attached to our bedroom) for quite a while so he and his older brother can get some sleep. Eventually, Baby Scribe will share a room with Little Scribe, but for the time being he’ll be sleeping in “the library.” I wonder if he’ll end up loving books as much as Little Scribe does, and Little Scribe never slept in a library! (Okay, maybe when I dragged him to public libraries for my research when he was still in his infant car seat. And there were all those bookstores we went to, and still do go to…)
Didn’t get any writing done today, only a lot of VERY satisfying book browsing and purchasing. The purchases definitely have to do with my historical fiction novel-in-progress, at least, so that’s good. Three art books and two travel guides. Not bad. These books have helped me to get excited about working on the novel again, which is good because it’s been more than six months (I was revising my fantasy middle grade to resubmit). I’ve been really feeling far, far away from the story, and all of my notes and research that I gathered in the past, though important and helpful, didn’t seem to be inspiring me to write. These new books have given me the boost I need.
Art books from the period you are writing about are really a great tool to use when fleshing out stories. I feel more like a detective than a writer when I am looking through them, as if I were peeping in on history. I am constantly searching for my characters’ faces and clothing as well as for landscapes and all sorts of historic details that come to life in a drawing or painting. I need that visual stimulus to really feel immersed in the period. I’ve checked out quite a few books from the library, but Powell’s had different ones at good prices that really made my fingers itch to write.
I know, I know… I just need to keep my bum in the chair…to lock myself in a room with my computer, notes, books, and drafts and finish the goose-livered draft. December is the deadline I've created for myself (Last December was, too. Hmm…) If I don’t finish the draft then I think I’ll go crazy with all of the other story ideas that I have racing around in my brain. Mostly they are two to one—two fantasies for every one historical fiction idea, which is funny because I never think of myself as a “fantasy writer.” I don’t only read fantasies. I love and read most genres-- historical fiction, chic lit., realistic fiction, mysteries, and fantasies. But three fairy tale retellings are scouring my brain right now along with one magical realism tale and two historical fiction ideas.
Time is ticking away. I should get a plastic flip-top crate for my novel information/ research and lug it around with me like a ball and chain. Of course, that’s kind of impossible for a woman whose been told by her OBGYN to stay off her feet as much as possible. Maybe my husband can lug it around for me. I couldn’t even carry my computer bag around Powell’s and had to leave it in the car, plus make one trip to the car to unload a bag of books (out of my two bags of purchases).
I’ve been feeling a bit crampy on the left side. Should sit down when I get home. Little Scribe and I might be visiting Burgerville on the way home from The Play Boutique today. When am I ever going to go grocery shopping? Need to make that list, and then maybe Daddy Scribe will go. That would be a real life-saver.
Tried the hot chocolate trick to see if I could feel Baby Scribe kick. I do a little bit, about the same as I did earlier today. I hope he’s okay in there. I’m obsessed with worry about whether or not he’s moving enough everyday.
Which week am I, anyway? 25 or 26? I’ve forgotten now. I don’t remember if I’m going to turn 26 or 27 weeks on Friday. I think I’m turning 26 weeks. Should I look up how much movement I should be feeling?
I hope everything with the baby turns out okay. I feel like Baby Scribe is more of a miracle than Little Scribe because of all the worrying I’ve been doing before he’s even born that I didn’t have with Little Scribe.
Oooh, just felt a good little kick there. Are you in there, Baby Scribe? Are you comfortable? Need anything? More hot cocoa? How about Shannon Hale's newest novel?
Both of my children are definitely miracles, but I have to admit that it was nice to be in ignorant bliss before Little Scribe surprised us with his early arrival.
Losing steam on my journal writing. Off to pick up Little Scribe…
I spend too much money on books. But I can’t help it. I LOVE books more than mint chocolate chip ice cream and a trip to Paris combined!
Okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but I really do love them. My dream is to have a library in my house. When my husband’s office is done and I can move into his little cubby hole of a room, I’m going to make it a library. Of course, I am going to share the space with our new baby boy and his basinnet (the room has a convenient door attached to our bedroom) for quite a while so he and his older brother can get some sleep. Eventually, Baby Scribe will share a room with Little Scribe, but for the time being he’ll be sleeping in “the library.” I wonder if he’ll end up loving books as much as Little Scribe does, and Little Scribe never slept in a library! (Okay, maybe when I dragged him to public libraries for my research when he was still in his infant car seat. And there were all those bookstores we went to, and still do go to…)
Didn’t get any writing done today, only a lot of VERY satisfying book browsing and purchasing. The purchases definitely have to do with my historical fiction novel-in-progress, at least, so that’s good. Three art books and two travel guides. Not bad. These books have helped me to get excited about working on the novel again, which is good because it’s been more than six months (I was revising my fantasy middle grade to resubmit). I’ve been really feeling far, far away from the story, and all of my notes and research that I gathered in the past, though important and helpful, didn’t seem to be inspiring me to write. These new books have given me the boost I need.
Art books from the period you are writing about are really a great tool to use when fleshing out stories. I feel more like a detective than a writer when I am looking through them, as if I were peeping in on history. I am constantly searching for my characters’ faces and clothing as well as for landscapes and all sorts of historic details that come to life in a drawing or painting. I need that visual stimulus to really feel immersed in the period. I’ve checked out quite a few books from the library, but Powell’s had different ones at good prices that really made my fingers itch to write.
I know, I know… I just need to keep my bum in the chair…to lock myself in a room with my computer, notes, books, and drafts and finish the goose-livered draft. December is the deadline I've created for myself (Last December was, too. Hmm…) If I don’t finish the draft then I think I’ll go crazy with all of the other story ideas that I have racing around in my brain. Mostly they are two to one—two fantasies for every one historical fiction idea, which is funny because I never think of myself as a “fantasy writer.” I don’t only read fantasies. I love and read most genres-- historical fiction, chic lit., realistic fiction, mysteries, and fantasies. But three fairy tale retellings are scouring my brain right now along with one magical realism tale and two historical fiction ideas.
Time is ticking away. I should get a plastic flip-top crate for my novel information/ research and lug it around with me like a ball and chain. Of course, that’s kind of impossible for a woman whose been told by her OBGYN to stay off her feet as much as possible. Maybe my husband can lug it around for me. I couldn’t even carry my computer bag around Powell’s and had to leave it in the car, plus make one trip to the car to unload a bag of books (out of my two bags of purchases).
I’ve been feeling a bit crampy on the left side. Should sit down when I get home. Little Scribe and I might be visiting Burgerville on the way home from The Play Boutique today. When am I ever going to go grocery shopping? Need to make that list, and then maybe Daddy Scribe will go. That would be a real life-saver.
Tried the hot chocolate trick to see if I could feel Baby Scribe kick. I do a little bit, about the same as I did earlier today. I hope he’s okay in there. I’m obsessed with worry about whether or not he’s moving enough everyday.
Which week am I, anyway? 25 or 26? I’ve forgotten now. I don’t remember if I’m going to turn 26 or 27 weeks on Friday. I think I’m turning 26 weeks. Should I look up how much movement I should be feeling?
I hope everything with the baby turns out okay. I feel like Baby Scribe is more of a miracle than Little Scribe because of all the worrying I’ve been doing before he’s even born that I didn’t have with Little Scribe.
Oooh, just felt a good little kick there. Are you in there, Baby Scribe? Are you comfortable? Need anything? More hot cocoa? How about Shannon Hale's newest novel?
Both of my children are definitely miracles, but I have to admit that it was nice to be in ignorant bliss before Little Scribe surprised us with his early arrival.
Losing steam on my journal writing. Off to pick up Little Scribe…
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
My Mind is Rice Pudding
I would say that my mind is like jello right now, but since I don't like jello and that saying is a bit of a cliche, I have to say that it is more like rice pudding. I'm tired, but I have a lot to do and don't feel like doing any of it. This is of course what I get for talking on the phone to a good friend for over two hours late last night and then being too wired to go to sleep. I did take a nap with Little Scribe today for two hours, which definitely helped. But after I put him to bed tonight I just crashed on the couch.
Of course, now it's hard to relax because someone's car alarm is blaring outside. (I checked, and it isn't mine.) Oh good. It just turned off. Phew!
More reasons why my mind is kind of floating around in creamy lumps of rice and custard-- I just received an email yesterday from another editor who is interested in seeing the rewrite of my middle grade fantasy novel. Yippee! It put me in a Cloud Nine state of happiness for a while. But did Little Scribe and I get to the post office today to send the manuscript out priority mail? Of course not. It is definitely number one on the agenda for tomorrow, though. (Besides picking up Little Scribe's dinosaur Halloween costume that is on hold at The Children's Place in downtown Portland.) Now the novel is being seriously considered by two publishers, which is exciting. But the wait will be excrutiating, considering that these same two publishers had the original, unrevised manuscript for a YEAR before each asked for a rewrite. Ugh!
Okay, I have to print out a new cover letter, do the dishes, wash and fold the laundry, take pictures of our new house addition for my husband (who is out of town in Florida on business), take a shower, and then I can sit and read underneath my cozy down comforter in bed.
Why do I feel like reading my book is sooo far away from being possible right now, especially when it is the number one thing I want to do?
What book am I reading, do you ask? It's called THE SINGER OF ALL SONGS by Kate Constable. I am only on the second chapter, but I have already fallen into the story. I'm intrigued by the main character, Calwyn, and her life behind a high ice wall that guards the sisters of Antaris from the world of Tremaris. It sounds "convent"-like in nature and reminds me of the beguinage that I visited in Bruges, Belgium. I don't know why that kind of life fascinates me, but it does. Maybe it's because a little time by myself right now really sounds tempting!
I really have to get my bum moving. (No matter how achy it is from the progesterone shots I have to take weekly now for Baby Scribe, who is kicking away in my belly as I type.)
You know, what I'd really like to do right now is EAT a bowl of rice pudding with a dollop of whipped cream and a flurry of cinammon on top. Or is that Baby Scribe talking? :-)
P.S. I've also just noticed that this time for the post is incorrect. It was really posted at 10:45pm on Thursday, October 11th. I just had my blog open for that long to remind me to write in it since the date and time posted here. Just in case you were wondering why I am acting like it is late. It's because it is late! (And two days later to boot.)
Of course, now it's hard to relax because someone's car alarm is blaring outside. (I checked, and it isn't mine.) Oh good. It just turned off. Phew!
More reasons why my mind is kind of floating around in creamy lumps of rice and custard-- I just received an email yesterday from another editor who is interested in seeing the rewrite of my middle grade fantasy novel. Yippee! It put me in a Cloud Nine state of happiness for a while. But did Little Scribe and I get to the post office today to send the manuscript out priority mail? Of course not. It is definitely number one on the agenda for tomorrow, though. (Besides picking up Little Scribe's dinosaur Halloween costume that is on hold at The Children's Place in downtown Portland.) Now the novel is being seriously considered by two publishers, which is exciting. But the wait will be excrutiating, considering that these same two publishers had the original, unrevised manuscript for a YEAR before each asked for a rewrite. Ugh!
Okay, I have to print out a new cover letter, do the dishes, wash and fold the laundry, take pictures of our new house addition for my husband (who is out of town in Florida on business), take a shower, and then I can sit and read underneath my cozy down comforter in bed.
Why do I feel like reading my book is sooo far away from being possible right now, especially when it is the number one thing I want to do?
What book am I reading, do you ask? It's called THE SINGER OF ALL SONGS by Kate Constable. I am only on the second chapter, but I have already fallen into the story. I'm intrigued by the main character, Calwyn, and her life behind a high ice wall that guards the sisters of Antaris from the world of Tremaris. It sounds "convent"-like in nature and reminds me of the beguinage that I visited in Bruges, Belgium. I don't know why that kind of life fascinates me, but it does. Maybe it's because a little time by myself right now really sounds tempting!
I really have to get my bum moving. (No matter how achy it is from the progesterone shots I have to take weekly now for Baby Scribe, who is kicking away in my belly as I type.)
You know, what I'd really like to do right now is EAT a bowl of rice pudding with a dollop of whipped cream and a flurry of cinammon on top. Or is that Baby Scribe talking? :-)
P.S. I've also just noticed that this time for the post is incorrect. It was really posted at 10:45pm on Thursday, October 11th. I just had my blog open for that long to remind me to write in it since the date and time posted here. Just in case you were wondering why I am acting like it is late. It's because it is late! (And two days later to boot.)
Monday, October 8, 2007
Burning the Midnight Oil (or More Like Yankee Candle)
Toys lie scattered every which way on the living room rug-- from train sets and circus sets to piles of picture books and bright bouncing yellow balls-- from wooden kitchen fruit and mini pots and pans to stuffed sea otters and teddy bears. We have it all here in what was once the living room. And do you know what's funny? This is actually pretty clean!
Then there are the two loads of laundry sitting unfolded right next to me on the couch and the dishes stacked in the kitchen sink, plus the piles of newspapers and magazines on the dining room table and boxes of Halloween decorations not yet unpacked in the hallway.
And what am I doing now that it is almost midnight with all of this surrounding me? What any good mother/writer would do... Light my "Harvest" Yankee Candle (my favorite scent of theirs, and I am not a candle person by any means), eat biscotti, and write in my blog.
Thus is the life of a true mother of a toddler/writer. I must burn the midnight oil every night in order to pursue my other life, that of a full-time children's writer. Household chores must go undone from time to time (more times than not, to be really honest) and things fall by the waste side. I am horrible at responding to email and sometimes phone messages (though the phone not as much) unless it is an absolute emergency, impossible at keeping the kitchen clean for more than two days a week (once when our housekeeper comes, the other because miracles do happen), and sporadic at best at folding laundry (Thank God for my husband!) My hair is always messy and needs a haircut badly, I never get my nails done because the polish chips the exact same day which drives me bonkers, and my clothes match only on a good day.
I am NOT a multitasker. Now that I have a two and a half-year-old son and another on the way, I can only concentrate on three things-- taking care of my son, spending time with my husband, and my writing. Pretty much everything else falls away for certain periods of time if I am writing a lot. When I'm really lucky, I get a little time for "myself" that has nothing to do with any of these things (like getting a pedicure, since the polish lasts longer, or going to a bookstore, or taking my French conversation class once a week.)
Close friends should know that the truest way to know if I am not writing a lot is if you hear from me a lot. If I am up to date on phone calls and emails, then I am PROCRASTINATING and not writing or working on writing-related items during the precious little time that I have (revisions, critiquing other manuscripts for writing buddies, writing cover letters, reading PUBLISHER'S WEEKLY or THE HORN BOOK, updating the blog, etc). That's not good.
I love emailing and keeping in touch with my friends, but my mind can only remember so much. This time right now is what I get to either write novels set in other times or other worlds (which takes over your brain, too, and is hard to turn off sometimes) and basically do my "work" that others get to do during the day. My daytime is devoted to my son, and I give my entire self to him (except for the Tues./Thurs. preschool hours from 9-12:45pm, which are now devoted to lots and lots of doctor visits for the new baby).
I think full-time working mothers understand this dilemma. They work all day, then come home and spend time with their children and family, and it's hard to do other things besides that. My day is swapped with spending all day with my son and then getting to spend time with my husband and then getting to do my work. And it is work. It may be a passion, but it is NOT a hobby. I don't even consider it my own personal time. It is my writing time, my work time. Something that I must do or else I don't feel complete.
It's so hard for others to understand, I think. Writing and motherhood do not blend together well. They're definitely more like oil and vinegar than Nestle's chocolate milk. With chocolate milk, the Nestle powder gets mixed into the milk when you stir it with a spoon, producing a brand new, creamy concoction that is completely blended together. With oil and vinegar, once they are shaken together, a nice, fragrant vinagrette forms, but the two ingredients never stay blended together for long. It takes constant shaking, constant work, to keep the vinagrette from separating.
That's how I feel about writing and motherhood. It takes constant work to keep everything together, but no matter what happens, the separation still occurs.
Piles of photographs without homes sit inside boxes in my living room (not yet completely unpacked since our move here last summer). Baby books and journals lean against one another on a bookshelf, half-written in. And even more books sit not exactly even on my son's bookshelf in his room. Yes, I have chosen to finish writing chapters over putting together elaborate scrapbooks, filling in what my son ate when he was one year and three months old or how potty training is going, and keeping his bookshelf perfectly straight, but I make sure to sing and dance with him everyday, go apple picking and bake apple cake with him, and play trains on the floor with him until my knees are raw. We read, read, and read some more, admire the changing leaves, and find pictures in the clouds. I hope that when he is an adult he will forgive me for not having elaborate scrapbooks about him or for not writing down what his favorite food was when he was two.
Sometimes I visit other famous children's writers' blogs and read that they have two kids under five or something similar and I wonder, "How do they do it?" They are prolific and successful and their hair is combed and their clothes match! But then I hear the words of Donna Jo Napoli, an extremely successful children's writer and a professor of linguistics to boot. She has four or five children (I don't remember exactly), grown now, and has spoken at numerous conferences about her life as a writer. When asked how she wrote when the kids were younger, she replied that she did manage to write and raise a family, but she did it BADLY! She said that the family could "literally" eat off the kitchen floor (if you know what I mean) and that she had every person in the household be responsible for dinner one night a week, even the youngest four-year-old, who made everyone eat a bowl of fruit and cereal.
Her talk makes me feel like I really can pull this writing and motherhood thing off, even if I am doing it BADLY. I can hardly wait until my son is four-years-old and can cook me a bowl of fruit and cereal for dinner!
Now, if only I could teach him to respond to emails, too. Now that would be something.
Then there are the two loads of laundry sitting unfolded right next to me on the couch and the dishes stacked in the kitchen sink, plus the piles of newspapers and magazines on the dining room table and boxes of Halloween decorations not yet unpacked in the hallway.
And what am I doing now that it is almost midnight with all of this surrounding me? What any good mother/writer would do... Light my "Harvest" Yankee Candle (my favorite scent of theirs, and I am not a candle person by any means), eat biscotti, and write in my blog.
Thus is the life of a true mother of a toddler/writer. I must burn the midnight oil every night in order to pursue my other life, that of a full-time children's writer. Household chores must go undone from time to time (more times than not, to be really honest) and things fall by the waste side. I am horrible at responding to email and sometimes phone messages (though the phone not as much) unless it is an absolute emergency, impossible at keeping the kitchen clean for more than two days a week (once when our housekeeper comes, the other because miracles do happen), and sporadic at best at folding laundry (Thank God for my husband!) My hair is always messy and needs a haircut badly, I never get my nails done because the polish chips the exact same day which drives me bonkers, and my clothes match only on a good day.
I am NOT a multitasker. Now that I have a two and a half-year-old son and another on the way, I can only concentrate on three things-- taking care of my son, spending time with my husband, and my writing. Pretty much everything else falls away for certain periods of time if I am writing a lot. When I'm really lucky, I get a little time for "myself" that has nothing to do with any of these things (like getting a pedicure, since the polish lasts longer, or going to a bookstore, or taking my French conversation class once a week.)
Close friends should know that the truest way to know if I am not writing a lot is if you hear from me a lot. If I am up to date on phone calls and emails, then I am PROCRASTINATING and not writing or working on writing-related items during the precious little time that I have (revisions, critiquing other manuscripts for writing buddies, writing cover letters, reading PUBLISHER'S WEEKLY or THE HORN BOOK, updating the blog, etc). That's not good.
I love emailing and keeping in touch with my friends, but my mind can only remember so much. This time right now is what I get to either write novels set in other times or other worlds (which takes over your brain, too, and is hard to turn off sometimes) and basically do my "work" that others get to do during the day. My daytime is devoted to my son, and I give my entire self to him (except for the Tues./Thurs. preschool hours from 9-12:45pm, which are now devoted to lots and lots of doctor visits for the new baby).
I think full-time working mothers understand this dilemma. They work all day, then come home and spend time with their children and family, and it's hard to do other things besides that. My day is swapped with spending all day with my son and then getting to spend time with my husband and then getting to do my work. And it is work. It may be a passion, but it is NOT a hobby. I don't even consider it my own personal time. It is my writing time, my work time. Something that I must do or else I don't feel complete.
It's so hard for others to understand, I think. Writing and motherhood do not blend together well. They're definitely more like oil and vinegar than Nestle's chocolate milk. With chocolate milk, the Nestle powder gets mixed into the milk when you stir it with a spoon, producing a brand new, creamy concoction that is completely blended together. With oil and vinegar, once they are shaken together, a nice, fragrant vinagrette forms, but the two ingredients never stay blended together for long. It takes constant shaking, constant work, to keep the vinagrette from separating.
That's how I feel about writing and motherhood. It takes constant work to keep everything together, but no matter what happens, the separation still occurs.
Piles of photographs without homes sit inside boxes in my living room (not yet completely unpacked since our move here last summer). Baby books and journals lean against one another on a bookshelf, half-written in. And even more books sit not exactly even on my son's bookshelf in his room. Yes, I have chosen to finish writing chapters over putting together elaborate scrapbooks, filling in what my son ate when he was one year and three months old or how potty training is going, and keeping his bookshelf perfectly straight, but I make sure to sing and dance with him everyday, go apple picking and bake apple cake with him, and play trains on the floor with him until my knees are raw. We read, read, and read some more, admire the changing leaves, and find pictures in the clouds. I hope that when he is an adult he will forgive me for not having elaborate scrapbooks about him or for not writing down what his favorite food was when he was two.
Sometimes I visit other famous children's writers' blogs and read that they have two kids under five or something similar and I wonder, "How do they do it?" They are prolific and successful and their hair is combed and their clothes match! But then I hear the words of Donna Jo Napoli, an extremely successful children's writer and a professor of linguistics to boot. She has four or five children (I don't remember exactly), grown now, and has spoken at numerous conferences about her life as a writer. When asked how she wrote when the kids were younger, she replied that she did manage to write and raise a family, but she did it BADLY! She said that the family could "literally" eat off the kitchen floor (if you know what I mean) and that she had every person in the household be responsible for dinner one night a week, even the youngest four-year-old, who made everyone eat a bowl of fruit and cereal.
Her talk makes me feel like I really can pull this writing and motherhood thing off, even if I am doing it BADLY. I can hardly wait until my son is four-years-old and can cook me a bowl of fruit and cereal for dinner!
Now, if only I could teach him to respond to emails, too. Now that would be something.
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Into the Wild Blogging World (Again)
I don’t know what it is about blogging—for some reason, I can stop doing it for a very long time, and then suddenly one day the feeling to blog overtakes me, like a pregnant woman who has to have a handful of candy corn right now and can’t think of anything else until she does. When the urge comes, I can’t stop thinking about posting until the task is done.
It’s very strange.
At least for me, I think this stems from my recent reading of other successful bloggers’ sites, especially those in the children’s literature realm. They have photos and video and lots of bells and whistles. Me? I have words. That’s it. And usually I don’t have the time to even write words, let alone do all the extras blogging needs nowadays.
I know I’ll need to very soon, if only to keep up with others and make my blog the best it can be, but for now I need only to be content with the fact that I actually wrote something today and posted on the blog after another long, long absence.
It’s very strange.
At least for me, I think this stems from my recent reading of other successful bloggers’ sites, especially those in the children’s literature realm. They have photos and video and lots of bells and whistles. Me? I have words. That’s it. And usually I don’t have the time to even write words, let alone do all the extras blogging needs nowadays.
I know I’ll need to very soon, if only to keep up with others and make my blog the best it can be, but for now I need only to be content with the fact that I actually wrote something today and posted on the blog after another long, long absence.
Friday, April 20, 2007
Eclairs Are Good for You (and Your Writing!)
I am jumping up and down and doing cartwheels over the newest café addition to the area where I live. (Not necessarily in my neighborhood, since this café is fifteen minutes away, but close enough) It will become my newest writing place, and even now I am sitting in my new little haven writing this blog entry on Word, savoring the smell of fresh rustic baguettes, almond croissants right out of the oven, rich pain au chocolat, custard-filled éclairs, and fluffy quiche lorraines. One name says it all…
St. Honore Boulangerie and Pattisserie.
If you don’t know the words, “boulangerie” and “patisserie,” those fluid, roll right off the tongue French words, you should. They mean “bakery” and “pastry shop” or more specifically, a place where bread and pastries are made and sold. They are everywhere in France with storefronts so cute that cheapie mass market art sold from street vendors have the bakeries plastered all over their paintings. (I know…I own one of them! So kitsch!) St. Honore is one of only two (the other being closer to downtown in a very trendy area of Portland.)
A man sitting next to me just finished speaking to the owner who, believe it or not, has a French accent. Another plus! It’s so nice to see the owner of another culture’s food establishment being from that culture. It’s a rare find these days, especially in the suburbs.
What does this have to do with writing? (Why am I always asking this about my blogs?)
Plenty for me, since I am basically a café writer. I have an area to write in my house, but it is adjacent to the kitchen and living room and more out in the open than I would like. Plus, Little Scribe goes to his nursery fifteen minutes away from the house, which would take up thirty minutes of my precious writing time if I drove back home again to write, only to have to drive back to pick him up again.
So, I have been writing across the street from The Play Boutique at Peet’s Coffee or down the street at Chuck’s Cookies and Coffee, dreaming of something better. I used to write at The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf when I lived in California since it was across the street from my house, but those don’t exist in Oregon. (Good thing anyway, since the chain has just put in flat screen televisions in all of their establishments! Talk about ruining ambience!) Another favorite writing place of mine also fifteen minutes from my old California house was Champagne Bakery and Bistro, but up until today, all of the great Portland area French bakeries and cafes were about thirty minutes or more away.
Now I have achieved Zen.
Did I mention that St. Honore is across the street from the Play Boutique, too? There really couldn’t be a better location for me!
Okay, okay. I will probably not come here to write every time Little Scribe is away. He goes to The Play Boutique three times a week, so I will probably choose one day a week to come and write. I don’t want to get fat from all the goodies here. But I think this will soon become my place. (Did I also mention that there are plugs for my computer? Peet’s doesn’t have any plugs, so I always get stuck losing power. So annoying.)
No internet, but that’s probably good since I always waste my writing time writing or checking emails when I have internet access.
My point to this rambling blog/ ode to all things toasted golden brown and sprinkled with powdered sugar... If you are a Mama Scribe like me and can’t concentrate at home, try café writing. Think of yourself as Ernest Hemingway in Paris, sitting for all hours outside at a café with pen and paper in hand. There’s nothing like a cup of tea (lemon rose from Peet’s Coffee is my favorite, served in a teapot and real ceramic mug), a gooey chocolate chip cookie from Chuck’s, or a mini raspberry jam croissant from St. Honore (Did I mention that they have mini pastries, so you won’t have to ruin your diet?) to stimulate your fingers to write, write, write! No crying babies, no whining toddlers, no husbands asking you why you didn’t get all the cheddar off the cheese grater when you washed the dishes last night, no piles of laundry, no cats needing their litter box changed…just you and your words and the "joie de vivre" that is café writing.
If you’ve never tried café writing, get a babysitter for an hour and go find at the minimum a Starbucks. Even the ambience of Starbucks is enough to turn on your inner voice.
And hopefully, if you are lucky, your fingers will dance over the keys.
St. Honore Boulangerie and Pattisserie.
If you don’t know the words, “boulangerie” and “patisserie,” those fluid, roll right off the tongue French words, you should. They mean “bakery” and “pastry shop” or more specifically, a place where bread and pastries are made and sold. They are everywhere in France with storefronts so cute that cheapie mass market art sold from street vendors have the bakeries plastered all over their paintings. (I know…I own one of them! So kitsch!) St. Honore is one of only two (the other being closer to downtown in a very trendy area of Portland.)
A man sitting next to me just finished speaking to the owner who, believe it or not, has a French accent. Another plus! It’s so nice to see the owner of another culture’s food establishment being from that culture. It’s a rare find these days, especially in the suburbs.
What does this have to do with writing? (Why am I always asking this about my blogs?)
Plenty for me, since I am basically a café writer. I have an area to write in my house, but it is adjacent to the kitchen and living room and more out in the open than I would like. Plus, Little Scribe goes to his nursery fifteen minutes away from the house, which would take up thirty minutes of my precious writing time if I drove back home again to write, only to have to drive back to pick him up again.
So, I have been writing across the street from The Play Boutique at Peet’s Coffee or down the street at Chuck’s Cookies and Coffee, dreaming of something better. I used to write at The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf when I lived in California since it was across the street from my house, but those don’t exist in Oregon. (Good thing anyway, since the chain has just put in flat screen televisions in all of their establishments! Talk about ruining ambience!) Another favorite writing place of mine also fifteen minutes from my old California house was Champagne Bakery and Bistro, but up until today, all of the great Portland area French bakeries and cafes were about thirty minutes or more away.
Now I have achieved Zen.
Did I mention that St. Honore is across the street from the Play Boutique, too? There really couldn’t be a better location for me!
Okay, okay. I will probably not come here to write every time Little Scribe is away. He goes to The Play Boutique three times a week, so I will probably choose one day a week to come and write. I don’t want to get fat from all the goodies here. But I think this will soon become my place. (Did I also mention that there are plugs for my computer? Peet’s doesn’t have any plugs, so I always get stuck losing power. So annoying.)
No internet, but that’s probably good since I always waste my writing time writing or checking emails when I have internet access.
My point to this rambling blog/ ode to all things toasted golden brown and sprinkled with powdered sugar... If you are a Mama Scribe like me and can’t concentrate at home, try café writing. Think of yourself as Ernest Hemingway in Paris, sitting for all hours outside at a café with pen and paper in hand. There’s nothing like a cup of tea (lemon rose from Peet’s Coffee is my favorite, served in a teapot and real ceramic mug), a gooey chocolate chip cookie from Chuck’s, or a mini raspberry jam croissant from St. Honore (Did I mention that they have mini pastries, so you won’t have to ruin your diet?) to stimulate your fingers to write, write, write! No crying babies, no whining toddlers, no husbands asking you why you didn’t get all the cheddar off the cheese grater when you washed the dishes last night, no piles of laundry, no cats needing their litter box changed…just you and your words and the "joie de vivre" that is café writing.
If you’ve never tried café writing, get a babysitter for an hour and go find at the minimum a Starbucks. Even the ambience of Starbucks is enough to turn on your inner voice.
And hopefully, if you are lucky, your fingers will dance over the keys.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
The Truth About Writing and Potty Training
Two weeks ago during our visit to Los Angeles (hence one of the reasons why I've been away from my blog), Grandma and Papa Scribe bought Little Scribe his first potty chair from a woodcarver at the Irish Festival. Lacking in bells and whistles and Elmo decorations, the chair is carved out of pine (complete with a crescent moon carved on the back) and includes a built in toliet paper holder one one side and a book/magazine holder on the other. It has a plastic liner under the seat and a wooden cover on top.
What does this have to do with writing? Well, writing and potty training have much more in common than at first glance. Think about the cheerleading a parent does with a toddler while he is on the potty:
"Just relax. You can do it. Let it all out. Reading helps, sometimes. I know, it's frustrating. Practice makes perfect. Don't give up. Let's try a little bit everyday. There it is! Good job!"
(All while your little one tries, cries, and flies off the potty and into your arms before you have a chance to wipe!)
Now imagine yourself on a tough writing day, when squeezing out even a single word feels harder than climbing Mount Hood in the middle of a snowstorm.
I think the feelings between toddler and writer are mutual.
Be your own cheerleader on those toughest of writing days, or call a writing friend to cheer for you. Say those same words that you say to your toddler on the potty, and when the words finally fly from your fingers and into your "potty" of a notebook or laptop, cry out with joy, "There it is! Good job!"
Of course, the words of my first drafts usually resemble what ends up in my toddler's potty more than an actual story, but cheer myself on I must, just as I do with my son, and forge ahead. As Grandma Scribe always says whenever I feel frustrated over Little Scribe's developmental progress, "There's no such thing as a typical kindergartener who isn't walking, talking, or potty trained. It will all happen in its own time."
So too should I remember when writing my stories. They will all happen in their own time.
What does this have to do with writing? Well, writing and potty training have much more in common than at first glance. Think about the cheerleading a parent does with a toddler while he is on the potty:
"Just relax. You can do it. Let it all out. Reading helps, sometimes. I know, it's frustrating. Practice makes perfect. Don't give up. Let's try a little bit everyday. There it is! Good job!"
(All while your little one tries, cries, and flies off the potty and into your arms before you have a chance to wipe!)
Now imagine yourself on a tough writing day, when squeezing out even a single word feels harder than climbing Mount Hood in the middle of a snowstorm.
I think the feelings between toddler and writer are mutual.
Be your own cheerleader on those toughest of writing days, or call a writing friend to cheer for you. Say those same words that you say to your toddler on the potty, and when the words finally fly from your fingers and into your "potty" of a notebook or laptop, cry out with joy, "There it is! Good job!"
Of course, the words of my first drafts usually resemble what ends up in my toddler's potty more than an actual story, but cheer myself on I must, just as I do with my son, and forge ahead. As Grandma Scribe always says whenever I feel frustrated over Little Scribe's developmental progress, "There's no such thing as a typical kindergartener who isn't walking, talking, or potty trained. It will all happen in its own time."
So too should I remember when writing my stories. They will all happen in their own time.
Thursday, March 1, 2007
Little Scribe's Book of the Moment
What's so amazing about being a children's book writer and a mother is that I get to "work" while reading picture books to my son. Before he was born, I used to check out a dozen by a single author and read them on the floor of my living room as a way to study the picture book form. Now I do it everyday while spending time with Little Scribe! Not a bad deal.
When I was an elementary school teacher, I used to read to second or third graders everyday, but my mind just didn't get as focused on the story as it does now cuddling in front of the woodburning stove with my son in our family room. There's something soothing, hypnotic almost, about reading a book for the thirtieth time (as long as it's a good story) with your two-year-old son in your lap. I am very picky about the books we read and try to have only the books that I enjoy reading as well in the house.
Little Scribe's book of the moment is RABBIT EARS by Amber Stewart and illustrated by Laura Rankin. The story is about a little rabbit named Hopscotch who hates having his ears washed. This scenario is close to my heart and real life experience, if you exchanged washing ears for washing hair. Little Scribe usually hates to have his hair washed, and it takes quite a bit of convincing to do so.
What's so precious about this story is not only its relevence to daily life, but also its clever use of names for the rabbit characters, like calling the main character "Hopscotch," his big cousin "Bobtail," and even down to the name of his favorite stuffed animal. (A little sewed up Velveteen Rabbit-type of stuffed animal named, appropriately enough, "Rabbity.") I also enjoy the repetition of the narrative, as can be seen in this example:
"Hopscotch knew what he liked and what he did not like.
He did like Rabbity
building a tower twelve blocks high with no wobbbles at all,
and very chocolatey chocolate cake (with extra icing on the side.
Hopscotch did not like lumpy pudding,
cold wet paws,
and losing Rabbity just before bedtime, even though Rabbity was usually found exactly where Hopscotch had left him.
And Hopscotch knew, for absolute certain, the thing he did not like the most was
having his ears washed!"
The colors in the book's illustrations are reminiscent of a french country cottage: lots of golden yellow, cobalt blue, dusty rose, grassy green, and warm tan. Even the house the rabbit family lives in looks like a cottage with its clawfoot tub, hardwood floors, and wainscotting in the kitchen. (I especially love the scene in the kitchen where Hopscotch is asking his Daddy when he can go stay at his big cousin Bobtail's house overnight while Mommy is drinking tea. Little Scribe always points to the teapot in the illustration and cries, "Mama Tea! Mama Tea!")
RABBIT EARS is an excellent example of pure picture book format and a fine study for children's writers interested in the genre. Thank you, Little Scribe, for making me read it to you upteen times!
Now, if only he'd let me write while we play together!
When I was an elementary school teacher, I used to read to second or third graders everyday, but my mind just didn't get as focused on the story as it does now cuddling in front of the woodburning stove with my son in our family room. There's something soothing, hypnotic almost, about reading a book for the thirtieth time (as long as it's a good story) with your two-year-old son in your lap. I am very picky about the books we read and try to have only the books that I enjoy reading as well in the house.
Little Scribe's book of the moment is RABBIT EARS by Amber Stewart and illustrated by Laura Rankin. The story is about a little rabbit named Hopscotch who hates having his ears washed. This scenario is close to my heart and real life experience, if you exchanged washing ears for washing hair. Little Scribe usually hates to have his hair washed, and it takes quite a bit of convincing to do so.
What's so precious about this story is not only its relevence to daily life, but also its clever use of names for the rabbit characters, like calling the main character "Hopscotch," his big cousin "Bobtail," and even down to the name of his favorite stuffed animal. (A little sewed up Velveteen Rabbit-type of stuffed animal named, appropriately enough, "Rabbity.") I also enjoy the repetition of the narrative, as can be seen in this example:
"Hopscotch knew what he liked and what he did not like.
He did like Rabbity
building a tower twelve blocks high with no wobbbles at all,
and very chocolatey chocolate cake (with extra icing on the side.
Hopscotch did not like lumpy pudding,
cold wet paws,
and losing Rabbity just before bedtime, even though Rabbity was usually found exactly where Hopscotch had left him.
And Hopscotch knew, for absolute certain, the thing he did not like the most was
having his ears washed!"
The colors in the book's illustrations are reminiscent of a french country cottage: lots of golden yellow, cobalt blue, dusty rose, grassy green, and warm tan. Even the house the rabbit family lives in looks like a cottage with its clawfoot tub, hardwood floors, and wainscotting in the kitchen. (I especially love the scene in the kitchen where Hopscotch is asking his Daddy when he can go stay at his big cousin Bobtail's house overnight while Mommy is drinking tea. Little Scribe always points to the teapot in the illustration and cries, "Mama Tea! Mama Tea!")
RABBIT EARS is an excellent example of pure picture book format and a fine study for children's writers interested in the genre. Thank you, Little Scribe, for making me read it to you upteen times!
Now, if only he'd let me write while we play together!
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
The Color of War
You know, I didn't know that war could be "colorful." Oh sure, the first color people probably think of when they think of war is red, the color of blood. But today I found out that war could be yellow, blue, green, orange, purple, and even pink, when I stumbled across a coloring book published by Dalmation Press called, LET'S GET GOING! in the play area of the West Linn City Hall waiting room.
The LET'S GET GOING! coloring book is part of Dalmation Press' "Giant Book to Color" series. The cover shows three F-16-type jet fighters flying, so I assumed from the title that this coloring book would be about either airplanes, jets, or things that go (a very typical theme for toddlers).
Opening it for Little Scribe to color in, I was shocked to find two soldiers dressed in fatigues holding an "oozie" at the ready (not sure about the spelling of this, but I'm not a gun expert, so...) The worst part of all is that the soldiers were colored in stereotypical Crayola green, with a blue sky, red clouds, green grass, and black rocks.
Oh, and the oozie was colored pink.
THIS IS A TODDLER'S COLORING BOOK FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!
What is the world of children's books coming to? To find out, I looked up Dalmation Press in my latest Publisher's Weekly, which just happens to be the new Children's Spring Books preview issue. Coming out this spring, ladies and gentlemen, are such graphic and gratuitous topics as a board book called, NOAH'S ARK, a picture book called HEAVEN ON EARTH, a retelling of the hymn, ALL THINGS BRIGHT AND BEAUTIFUL in picture book form, and a new version of that ancient bestseller, THE CHILDREN'S ILLUSTRATED BIBLE.
Due to the overwhelming amount of children's religious books being published by Dalmation Press this season, I have to ask the most obvious of questions-- What would Jesus think of their coloring book?
Don't get me wrong, I am completely for the First Amendment and totally against book burning, but this coloring book really tempted me to stray and chuck it into my wood-burning stove. I just cringe every time I imagine a little boy or girl coloring that oozie pink. This coloring book is totally aimed at toddlers and preschoolers, too. I don't feel that I am unpatriotic in having these feelings, just in favor of non-violent coloring books for our smallest of walking citizens, the toddler and preschooler set (and grade schoolers as well, but that's a pipe dream, I'm sure.)
Is this a lot to ask?
I'm assuming that this coloring book was published for children whose parents, other family members, neighbors, etc, are involved in the war in Iraq. Or, it could be that it was published just to praise our military forces. Great. Fantastic. I love our troops. But does it have to show dozens of weapons of war in order to make its point? I think children will be filled with pride for our military forces without a Navy Seal-type of soldier ready to fire (colored orange, by the way) or a soldier carrying that weapon of weapons, a missile (colored a festive spring green and yellow mix, with the soldier's face colored a Mardi Gras-esque purple and yellow.) What's next, showing a nuclear weapon dropping from a Stealth Fighter?
Come on, Dalmation Press. The graphic illustrations in LET'S GET GOING! should be, in the final words of Donald Crews' Caldecott award-winning board book, FREIGHT TRAIN,
"Going, going, gone....."
(And as far as the West Linn City Hall is concerned, I just hope that they plead ignorance...)
The LET'S GET GOING! coloring book is part of Dalmation Press' "Giant Book to Color" series. The cover shows three F-16-type jet fighters flying, so I assumed from the title that this coloring book would be about either airplanes, jets, or things that go (a very typical theme for toddlers).
Opening it for Little Scribe to color in, I was shocked to find two soldiers dressed in fatigues holding an "oozie" at the ready (not sure about the spelling of this, but I'm not a gun expert, so...) The worst part of all is that the soldiers were colored in stereotypical Crayola green, with a blue sky, red clouds, green grass, and black rocks.
Oh, and the oozie was colored pink.
THIS IS A TODDLER'S COLORING BOOK FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!
What is the world of children's books coming to? To find out, I looked up Dalmation Press in my latest Publisher's Weekly, which just happens to be the new Children's Spring Books preview issue. Coming out this spring, ladies and gentlemen, are such graphic and gratuitous topics as a board book called, NOAH'S ARK, a picture book called HEAVEN ON EARTH, a retelling of the hymn, ALL THINGS BRIGHT AND BEAUTIFUL in picture book form, and a new version of that ancient bestseller, THE CHILDREN'S ILLUSTRATED BIBLE.
Due to the overwhelming amount of children's religious books being published by Dalmation Press this season, I have to ask the most obvious of questions-- What would Jesus think of their coloring book?
Don't get me wrong, I am completely for the First Amendment and totally against book burning, but this coloring book really tempted me to stray and chuck it into my wood-burning stove. I just cringe every time I imagine a little boy or girl coloring that oozie pink. This coloring book is totally aimed at toddlers and preschoolers, too. I don't feel that I am unpatriotic in having these feelings, just in favor of non-violent coloring books for our smallest of walking citizens, the toddler and preschooler set (and grade schoolers as well, but that's a pipe dream, I'm sure.)
Is this a lot to ask?
I'm assuming that this coloring book was published for children whose parents, other family members, neighbors, etc, are involved in the war in Iraq. Or, it could be that it was published just to praise our military forces. Great. Fantastic. I love our troops. But does it have to show dozens of weapons of war in order to make its point? I think children will be filled with pride for our military forces without a Navy Seal-type of soldier ready to fire (colored orange, by the way) or a soldier carrying that weapon of weapons, a missile (colored a festive spring green and yellow mix, with the soldier's face colored a Mardi Gras-esque purple and yellow.) What's next, showing a nuclear weapon dropping from a Stealth Fighter?
Come on, Dalmation Press. The graphic illustrations in LET'S GET GOING! should be, in the final words of Donald Crews' Caldecott award-winning board book, FREIGHT TRAIN,
"Going, going, gone....."
(And as far as the West Linn City Hall is concerned, I just hope that they plead ignorance...)
Friday, February 16, 2007
The Blog Boutique
I am attempting something new-- writing in my blog while Little Scribe plays at the Play Boutique. After his normal toddler play time from 9-11am (my sacred writing time) on Fridays, they have open free play until 12:30pm with two computers linked to the internet that you can use.
So I can sit here on a stainless steel stool, up high for careful viewing, and watch Little Scribe play while I muse about how far can one go in edgy Y.A., Richard Peck's latest middle grade novel, an upcoming talk with Jane Yolen in Washington state, whether or not fantasy has hit a plateau, and other children's literary topics.
Uh oh. Screamfest. Gotta go...
So I can sit here on a stainless steel stool, up high for careful viewing, and watch Little Scribe play while I muse about how far can one go in edgy Y.A., Richard Peck's latest middle grade novel, an upcoming talk with Jane Yolen in Washington state, whether or not fantasy has hit a plateau, and other children's literary topics.
Uh oh. Screamfest. Gotta go...
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Taking a Writing Break
After staying up until 2:00 am working on my submission to the Washington SCBWI retreat and conference in April, I am taking a writing break today during my son's time at the Play Boutique, his daycare, playschool, nursery-type of place. It's a very special place that takes drop-in toddlers three times a week and provides not only a play area but also art, music, and most important of all-- snack.
Little Scribe loves it. He attends on Tuesdays from 9-12:45pm, Wednesdays from 9-11am, and Fridays from 9-11am. My favorite part of the Play Boutique happens once a week on Friday night from 5:30pm-8:30pm. It's called "Happy Hour" and it's a drop-off playtime so parents can go out to dinner, see a movie, and just basically be "adults" again. I don't know what I would do without it.
I use these hours as my writing time, and since the Play Boutique is fifteen minutes away from my house, I write nearby at either Peets Coffee or Chuck's Coffee and Cookies (not a good thing to write where fresh, homemade cookies are being baked, though. I almost never leave without one for each member of my family, but at least Chuck's has free internet.) This personal time is precious to me, and I almost never waste it on errands, which usually leads to dragging Little Scribe to the grocery store, dry cleaners, or the dreaded Target. I despise running errands with him. It never fails that the trip ends up with some kind of breakdown, no matter how many snacks, toys, or how much sleep he's gotten.
What I really need is what Michael Keaton had in the movie, "Multiplicity," a "Mama Scribe #2" who would do all of my errands for me while I write. With my luck, though, the clone would be like #4 in the movie and never get anything done. (If you've seen the movie, you'll know what I mean.) Actually, I think in real life, now that I've become a mother, my brain is more like #4 than I want to admit!
And now, it's time to go eat a dolphin... I mean, pet a dolphin. (Another annoying movie reference, I know)
Little Scribe loves it. He attends on Tuesdays from 9-12:45pm, Wednesdays from 9-11am, and Fridays from 9-11am. My favorite part of the Play Boutique happens once a week on Friday night from 5:30pm-8:30pm. It's called "Happy Hour" and it's a drop-off playtime so parents can go out to dinner, see a movie, and just basically be "adults" again. I don't know what I would do without it.
I use these hours as my writing time, and since the Play Boutique is fifteen minutes away from my house, I write nearby at either Peets Coffee or Chuck's Coffee and Cookies (not a good thing to write where fresh, homemade cookies are being baked, though. I almost never leave without one for each member of my family, but at least Chuck's has free internet.) This personal time is precious to me, and I almost never waste it on errands, which usually leads to dragging Little Scribe to the grocery store, dry cleaners, or the dreaded Target. I despise running errands with him. It never fails that the trip ends up with some kind of breakdown, no matter how many snacks, toys, or how much sleep he's gotten.
What I really need is what Michael Keaton had in the movie, "Multiplicity," a "Mama Scribe #2" who would do all of my errands for me while I write. With my luck, though, the clone would be like #4 in the movie and never get anything done. (If you've seen the movie, you'll know what I mean.) Actually, I think in real life, now that I've become a mother, my brain is more like #4 than I want to admit!
And now, it's time to go eat a dolphin... I mean, pet a dolphin. (Another annoying movie reference, I know)
Monday, February 12, 2007
Early To Bed (In My Dreams!)
Tried to get Little Scribe in bed early tonight so I could work on my novel, to no avail! We started at 7:15pm, and the ordeal didn't end until 9:00pm, after crying it out inbetween, me going back in to change his diaper, and starting all over again. Aaagh! And what am I doing now? Procrastinating, of course.
So often I get really worked up to write, ready to hit those keys right after my son hits the pillow, only to be thrown off by his decision that no, it is not time for bed, Mama. It's time to play with Mama's hair, flip around a hundred times in her arms, and play with Mama's hair some more.
Don't get me wrong... I LOVE cuddling Little Scribe and feeling him play with my hair. But when I am in my writer's mode and feeling antsy to type, it drives me crazy when it takes much longer than I thought.
Ditto all of this for nap time, too. (Although today was a good day on that account. I got two and a half hours of writing time in during nap.)
Can't write a long post tonight. Got to catch up on my missed writing time (As the dirty dinner dishes sit on the counter and in the sink, but that's another topic for a later post...)
Off to the trenches...
So often I get really worked up to write, ready to hit those keys right after my son hits the pillow, only to be thrown off by his decision that no, it is not time for bed, Mama. It's time to play with Mama's hair, flip around a hundred times in her arms, and play with Mama's hair some more.
Don't get me wrong... I LOVE cuddling Little Scribe and feeling him play with my hair. But when I am in my writer's mode and feeling antsy to type, it drives me crazy when it takes much longer than I thought.
Ditto all of this for nap time, too. (Although today was a good day on that account. I got two and a half hours of writing time in during nap.)
Can't write a long post tonight. Got to catch up on my missed writing time (As the dirty dinner dishes sit on the counter and in the sink, but that's another topic for a later post...)
Off to the trenches...
Friday, February 9, 2007
Frailty, Thy Name is Hats!
Why is it that my son refuses to let me take a shower during the day? At first, when he was younger, I thought it was his age. Maybe the whole "separation anxiety" phase or what not. So, I stayed diligent and kept trying, bringing in toys, books, playing music, the whole nine yards, just so Mama could get clean and not have anymore playdough underneath her fingernails from two days ago.
Nothing worked.
My son cried and carried on, his screams at mezzo soprano level, reaching all the way to my husband's office upstairs, where Daddy was undoubitibly on a conference call to New York. I realized that I had to make a decision-- shower and let him scream, shower at night, shower during naps when I could be writing, or shower when my husband finished with work, usually around 4pm.
I decided to shower, well, whenever I could! This has led to extremely bad hair days and a propensity to throw on a hat no matter what the outfit, whether I get to take a shower or not, since even if I do get to in the morning or afternoon, I rarely ever have time to blow-dry my hair.
I have never been a fashionista or a DEVIL WEARS PRADA type of gal, but at least I used to match my hats a little better pre-baby! (Hats have always been a passion of mine. They are to me what shoes are to others.) Now, in the madness of trying to get washed, dried, dressed, and out the door for one reason or another, it isn't surprising if I wear a knitted Reggae-style beret with a plaid skirt!
To get through the horror of my endless bad hair and hat days, I've decided to just think of myself as an artsy writer/mama with barely enough time to write two pages a day let alone worry about her looks. I'm sure this leads to strange stares from mothers who are a little more (okay, A LOT more) together than me whenever I pick up my son from the play group he attends three times a week so can write across the street at Peets Coffee. But if the time I saved taking a shower at night, throwing on a hat in the morning, and rushing out the door with my washed, fed, and clothed toddler helped me to write two pages of my novel that day, then the "hat head" was well worth it.
Mama Scribe has to keep her priorities straight!
Nothing worked.
My son cried and carried on, his screams at mezzo soprano level, reaching all the way to my husband's office upstairs, where Daddy was undoubitibly on a conference call to New York. I realized that I had to make a decision-- shower and let him scream, shower at night, shower during naps when I could be writing, or shower when my husband finished with work, usually around 4pm.
I decided to shower, well, whenever I could! This has led to extremely bad hair days and a propensity to throw on a hat no matter what the outfit, whether I get to take a shower or not, since even if I do get to in the morning or afternoon, I rarely ever have time to blow-dry my hair.
I have never been a fashionista or a DEVIL WEARS PRADA type of gal, but at least I used to match my hats a little better pre-baby! (Hats have always been a passion of mine. They are to me what shoes are to others.) Now, in the madness of trying to get washed, dried, dressed, and out the door for one reason or another, it isn't surprising if I wear a knitted Reggae-style beret with a plaid skirt!
To get through the horror of my endless bad hair and hat days, I've decided to just think of myself as an artsy writer/mama with barely enough time to write two pages a day let alone worry about her looks. I'm sure this leads to strange stares from mothers who are a little more (okay, A LOT more) together than me whenever I pick up my son from the play group he attends three times a week so can write across the street at Peets Coffee. But if the time I saved taking a shower at night, throwing on a hat in the morning, and rushing out the door with my washed, fed, and clothed toddler helped me to write two pages of my novel that day, then the "hat head" was well worth it.
Mama Scribe has to keep her priorities straight!
Thursday, February 8, 2007
Raising Our Tea and Sippy Cups
Here at the Quill and Crayon, we raise a cup of English Breakfast tea and a sippy cup of milk to our latest books of the moment, THE REMARKABLE LIFE AND TIMES OF ELIZA ROSE by Mary Hooper, and the artist board book series by Julie Merberg and Suzanne Bober, published by Chronicle books.
I don't pretend to be a book reviewer, but I do want to share books on my blog that I have read or read to Little Scribe that particularly peaked my interest or that I greatly enjoyed. These are two of the latest in what I hope becomes a regular addition to this humble "cottage"of a blog.
Set in the mid-seventeenth century, THE REMARKABLE LIFE AND TIMES OF ELIZA ROSE is my most recent middle grade read, and one that I could not put down.
Eliza Rose begins her story locked in Clink prison, a place where most middle grade novels are never set. (Squalor is such a refreshing change!) Eliza has been kicked out of the house by her stepmother, and she travels to London to search for her father to tell him of the ordeal, only to be arrested when hunger forces her to steal a pasty from a vendor. After surviving for a time there, Eliza is released into the custody of Old Ma Gwyn, a local brothel owner and the mother of real-life actress Nelly Gwyn. After a stint playing a mermaid for Ma Gwyn as payment for her release, Eliza is taken away by Nelly and begins a new life as her companion and maid. She finds friendship in Nelly and becomes fascinated with life in the theatre as well as in the king's court when Nelly becomes Royal Mistress to King Charles II. A surprise ending explains the true events of Eliza's birth, the knowledge of which changes her life forever.
A few years ago, I read Mary Hooper's AT THE SIGN OF THE SUGARED PLUM, and loved it, so I had a feeling that her newest novel wouldn't disappoint. Her writing style flows easily, her descriptions are rich with detail, and she has a good sense of the language of the period. I especially like Hooper's setting descriptions, like this example of Eliza experiencing Clink prison for the first time.
"She now felt it safe to open her eyes. When she did so, however, the view before her was so disturbing that she immediately shut them again. In that instant she'd seen a long, low-ceilinged space, poorly lit by tallow candles, and some bedraggled and filthy creatures sitting around its walls, all of whom looked to be in a state of utter despair and dejection...
Eliza's eyelids flickered open again. To the left, not many inches from where she was lying, was a shallow channel which had been dug out from the hardened earth. There were neither windows nor ventilation in the room, and the stench from the channel- which was no more than an open sewer conveying filth and human waste, she realized- hung chokingly on the air of the room. Which wasn't a room at all, but a cell.
She was in prison."
Reading that certainly makes me happy to be sitting next to my wood-burning stove, wrapped in a sweater, all cozy and warm!
I really want to read PETALS IN THE ASHES, the book Hooper wrote right before this one, set in the seventeenth century during the Great London Fire. I'm hoping her writing style carries over to that novel as well.
Little Scribe's picks are a set of board books by Julie Merberg and Suzanne Bober, each about a different artist, and each a delight in its own way. So far, we have in our collection SUNDAY WITH SEURAT, SHARING WITH RENOIR, IN THE GARDEN WITH VAN GOGH, DANCING WITH DEGAS, A PICNIC WITH MONET, and A MAGICAL DAY WITH MATISSE. The books follow a poetic format, with each stanza describing a painting. Here is an excerpt from A PICNIC WITH MONET (picture each stanza next to a Monet painting):
"Cross a magical bridge to a place beyond,
where water lilies float on a purple pond.
Then find the way to a shimmering bay
where sailboats race the day away."
The poems are lyrical and really bring the paintings to life. Good, unforced rhyme, as well. Little Scribe loves these stories and wants me to read them over and over. It also helps to read them before going to an art museum, because then Little Scribe is used to seeing the art and can point out bridges, flowers, boats, etc, as we walk around together. (I also use the "find the kitties and puppies" method to get through art museums. It never fails!)
Hopefully you'll be able to check out some of these titles and add them to the piles next to your beds, too.
I don't pretend to be a book reviewer, but I do want to share books on my blog that I have read or read to Little Scribe that particularly peaked my interest or that I greatly enjoyed. These are two of the latest in what I hope becomes a regular addition to this humble "cottage"of a blog.
Set in the mid-seventeenth century, THE REMARKABLE LIFE AND TIMES OF ELIZA ROSE is my most recent middle grade read, and one that I could not put down.
Eliza Rose begins her story locked in Clink prison, a place where most middle grade novels are never set. (Squalor is such a refreshing change!) Eliza has been kicked out of the house by her stepmother, and she travels to London to search for her father to tell him of the ordeal, only to be arrested when hunger forces her to steal a pasty from a vendor. After surviving for a time there, Eliza is released into the custody of Old Ma Gwyn, a local brothel owner and the mother of real-life actress Nelly Gwyn. After a stint playing a mermaid for Ma Gwyn as payment for her release, Eliza is taken away by Nelly and begins a new life as her companion and maid. She finds friendship in Nelly and becomes fascinated with life in the theatre as well as in the king's court when Nelly becomes Royal Mistress to King Charles II. A surprise ending explains the true events of Eliza's birth, the knowledge of which changes her life forever.
A few years ago, I read Mary Hooper's AT THE SIGN OF THE SUGARED PLUM, and loved it, so I had a feeling that her newest novel wouldn't disappoint. Her writing style flows easily, her descriptions are rich with detail, and she has a good sense of the language of the period. I especially like Hooper's setting descriptions, like this example of Eliza experiencing Clink prison for the first time.
"She now felt it safe to open her eyes. When she did so, however, the view before her was so disturbing that she immediately shut them again. In that instant she'd seen a long, low-ceilinged space, poorly lit by tallow candles, and some bedraggled and filthy creatures sitting around its walls, all of whom looked to be in a state of utter despair and dejection...
Eliza's eyelids flickered open again. To the left, not many inches from where she was lying, was a shallow channel which had been dug out from the hardened earth. There were neither windows nor ventilation in the room, and the stench from the channel- which was no more than an open sewer conveying filth and human waste, she realized- hung chokingly on the air of the room. Which wasn't a room at all, but a cell.
She was in prison."
Reading that certainly makes me happy to be sitting next to my wood-burning stove, wrapped in a sweater, all cozy and warm!
I really want to read PETALS IN THE ASHES, the book Hooper wrote right before this one, set in the seventeenth century during the Great London Fire. I'm hoping her writing style carries over to that novel as well.
Little Scribe's picks are a set of board books by Julie Merberg and Suzanne Bober, each about a different artist, and each a delight in its own way. So far, we have in our collection SUNDAY WITH SEURAT, SHARING WITH RENOIR, IN THE GARDEN WITH VAN GOGH, DANCING WITH DEGAS, A PICNIC WITH MONET, and A MAGICAL DAY WITH MATISSE. The books follow a poetic format, with each stanza describing a painting. Here is an excerpt from A PICNIC WITH MONET (picture each stanza next to a Monet painting):
"Cross a magical bridge to a place beyond,
where water lilies float on a purple pond.
Then find the way to a shimmering bay
where sailboats race the day away."
The poems are lyrical and really bring the paintings to life. Good, unforced rhyme, as well. Little Scribe loves these stories and wants me to read them over and over. It also helps to read them before going to an art museum, because then Little Scribe is used to seeing the art and can point out bridges, flowers, boats, etc, as we walk around together. (I also use the "find the kitties and puppies" method to get through art museums. It never fails!)
Hopefully you'll be able to check out some of these titles and add them to the piles next to your beds, too.
Historical Fiction Isn't History After All
It's so nice to see that two of the Newbery Honor medals awarded this year went to historical fiction titles again. PENNY FROM HEAVEN, by Jennifer L. Holm, takes place in 1953 Brooklyn, while HATTIE BIG SKY by Kirby Larson is set in 1918 Iowa and Montana. I haven't read these books yet, but they are definitely on my list (and in that taller than the Empire State Building pile of books beside my bed.)
After hearing that historical fiction just wasn't selling well at quite a few SCBWI (Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators) conferences, I began to question my love for writing them. Should I continue? Or should I try to write something that I think will "sell" easier? Contemporary chick lit? High Fantasy trilogies? Edgy YA? But I've been sticking with what I love the most, hoping that my passion will carry over into my writing and woo an editor to publish it even if the genre isn't on the "it" list (and if my story is good, of course).
Looking back at the 2006 and 2005 winners, one title with historical fiction tendencies (really a fantasy, though) won the honor medal last year (WHITTINGTON by Alan Armstrong, set in medieval era) and two actual historical fiction titles won honors the year before (AL CAPONE DOES MY SHIRTS by Gennifer Choldenko, set in 1935 on Alcatraz Island, and LIZZIE BRIGHT AND THE BUCKMINSTER BOY by Gary D. Schmidt, set in 1912 in Maine.) So, it goes to show that a writer should not really take those talks about what is selling and what isn't too seriously. Historical Fiction is alive and well, as far as I can tell.
Now if only I can find the time between playing "puppet show" and "playdough time" with Little Scribe to read all these books! (I have read AL CAPONE DOES MY SHIRTS, and I highly recommend it. Very funny and clever story, one of those ideas that I wished I had thought of.)
After hearing that historical fiction just wasn't selling well at quite a few SCBWI (Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators) conferences, I began to question my love for writing them. Should I continue? Or should I try to write something that I think will "sell" easier? Contemporary chick lit? High Fantasy trilogies? Edgy YA? But I've been sticking with what I love the most, hoping that my passion will carry over into my writing and woo an editor to publish it even if the genre isn't on the "it" list (and if my story is good, of course).
Looking back at the 2006 and 2005 winners, one title with historical fiction tendencies (really a fantasy, though) won the honor medal last year (WHITTINGTON by Alan Armstrong, set in medieval era) and two actual historical fiction titles won honors the year before (AL CAPONE DOES MY SHIRTS by Gennifer Choldenko, set in 1935 on Alcatraz Island, and LIZZIE BRIGHT AND THE BUCKMINSTER BOY by Gary D. Schmidt, set in 1912 in Maine.) So, it goes to show that a writer should not really take those talks about what is selling and what isn't too seriously. Historical Fiction is alive and well, as far as I can tell.
Now if only I can find the time between playing "puppet show" and "playdough time" with Little Scribe to read all these books! (I have read AL CAPONE DOES MY SHIRTS, and I highly recommend it. Very funny and clever story, one of those ideas that I wished I had thought of.)
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
Toddler Television Woes
Little Scribe's third viewing of "Curious George" in the past two days (due to a nasty case of the stomach flu that incapacitated him for a while) has me wondering if now is the time to find a toddler television show that he can watch once a week.
My husband and I followed the "no T.V. until age two" rule pretty well, except for special occasions like if I was sick, we were in a hotel room trying to get ready to leave or pack, or just recently whenever he was sick. We even completely avoided anything starting with the word, "Baby" and ending with the name of a famous composer, writer, or scientist.
Now since he's past age two, it would certainly be convenient to let him watch an episode of "Blues Clues" once a week so I could do some research on the computer or check email (which takes up my writing time) or cook more in the kitchen (my New Year's resolution) or, shock of all shocks, maybe even fold some laundry.
But, is watching that much television at this age good for him? Will I ruin all that I set out to do when I limited his television viewing to once every couple of months or so? Will I hinder his love for "stories" and books?
I guess once a week isn't all that bad. (Of course, I was even thinking twice a week.) I need to do some research on it. The last thing I want to teach him is to "watch television" instead of the learning what the shows are trying to teach him.
Any ideas? Please email me!
And now, back to Miss Plushbottom in her bathtub. If you've watched the movie, "Curious George" as much as I have, you'll know what I'm talking about. (I love that character's name, by the way. Has anyone noticed the "Tiffany & Co." paint color along her apartment's trim and on her door? Nice touch by the animators. It really adds to her character.)
I guess if Little Scribe has to love a movie, "Curious George" is, in my opinion, the best one out there for his age group. Great dialogue, unique story idea, and animation that really plays off the book's original illustrations. And it is, of course, based on one of the most beloved children's books of all time.
Other friends' kids loved the movie, "Cars," but I was very disappointed with the story. It was way too similar to the Michael J. Fox classic, "Doc Hollywood" (a particular favorite of mine, however.) Pixar, once a great innovator in story for animation, let me down with "Cars." Plus, I felt that the movie itself was for an older childhood crowd, and not for toddlers. That crash scene in the beginning is loud and scary! Little Scribe can barely handle when George tumbles to the ground inside the brontosaurus skeleton scene in "Curious George", and he's watched it upteen times. So I'm waiting to let him watch "Cars" for an indefinite amount of time. (Not too big of a fan of the Nascar scene, to be quite honest, either.)
Little Scribe's other favorite films are "Mary Poppins" and the newly introduced "Bambi" (first watched yesterday and extremely edited due to mother's death scene and fire). The dancing penguins are a hit in "Mary Poppins" and so is the wise old owl and Thumper in "Bambi." After noticing the name, Felix Salten, as the writing credit for the original story of "Bambi," I looked the name up online and found out that Felix published the story, BAMBI: A Life in the Woods, in 1926 in Austria. According to Wikipedia (not exactly a professional journal or completely trustworthy site, but a start), the story was translated into English in 1928 and became a Book-of-the-Month club hit.
My analysis? Stick to movies based on children's books! (If done well, that is. Exception is Gail Carson Levine's ELLA ENCHANTED, an unhappily-ever-after remake that veers much too far away from the Newbery award-winning novel.)
I do want to show Little Scribe the Wallace and Gromit movies someday, though. Now those are clever stories not based on a book! Give me flying bunnies inside a vaccuum cleaner, a smart dog, and Wensleydale cheese anyday!
My husband and I followed the "no T.V. until age two" rule pretty well, except for special occasions like if I was sick, we were in a hotel room trying to get ready to leave or pack, or just recently whenever he was sick. We even completely avoided anything starting with the word, "Baby" and ending with the name of a famous composer, writer, or scientist.
Now since he's past age two, it would certainly be convenient to let him watch an episode of "Blues Clues" once a week so I could do some research on the computer or check email (which takes up my writing time) or cook more in the kitchen (my New Year's resolution) or, shock of all shocks, maybe even fold some laundry.
But, is watching that much television at this age good for him? Will I ruin all that I set out to do when I limited his television viewing to once every couple of months or so? Will I hinder his love for "stories" and books?
I guess once a week isn't all that bad. (Of course, I was even thinking twice a week.) I need to do some research on it. The last thing I want to teach him is to "watch television" instead of the learning what the shows are trying to teach him.
Any ideas? Please email me!
And now, back to Miss Plushbottom in her bathtub. If you've watched the movie, "Curious George" as much as I have, you'll know what I'm talking about. (I love that character's name, by the way. Has anyone noticed the "Tiffany & Co." paint color along her apartment's trim and on her door? Nice touch by the animators. It really adds to her character.)
I guess if Little Scribe has to love a movie, "Curious George" is, in my opinion, the best one out there for his age group. Great dialogue, unique story idea, and animation that really plays off the book's original illustrations. And it is, of course, based on one of the most beloved children's books of all time.
Other friends' kids loved the movie, "Cars," but I was very disappointed with the story. It was way too similar to the Michael J. Fox classic, "Doc Hollywood" (a particular favorite of mine, however.) Pixar, once a great innovator in story for animation, let me down with "Cars." Plus, I felt that the movie itself was for an older childhood crowd, and not for toddlers. That crash scene in the beginning is loud and scary! Little Scribe can barely handle when George tumbles to the ground inside the brontosaurus skeleton scene in "Curious George", and he's watched it upteen times. So I'm waiting to let him watch "Cars" for an indefinite amount of time. (Not too big of a fan of the Nascar scene, to be quite honest, either.)
Little Scribe's other favorite films are "Mary Poppins" and the newly introduced "Bambi" (first watched yesterday and extremely edited due to mother's death scene and fire). The dancing penguins are a hit in "Mary Poppins" and so is the wise old owl and Thumper in "Bambi." After noticing the name, Felix Salten, as the writing credit for the original story of "Bambi," I looked the name up online and found out that Felix published the story, BAMBI: A Life in the Woods, in 1926 in Austria. According to Wikipedia (not exactly a professional journal or completely trustworthy site, but a start), the story was translated into English in 1928 and became a Book-of-the-Month club hit.
My analysis? Stick to movies based on children's books! (If done well, that is. Exception is Gail Carson Levine's ELLA ENCHANTED, an unhappily-ever-after remake that veers much too far away from the Newbery award-winning novel.)
I do want to show Little Scribe the Wallace and Gromit movies someday, though. Now those are clever stories not based on a book! Give me flying bunnies inside a vaccuum cleaner, a smart dog, and Wensleydale cheese anyday!
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
Becoming "Marmee"
After reading GOODNIGHT MOON to my son for the thousandth time, it dawned on me that I have suddenly made a significant character shift in Margaret Wise Brown's beloved classic picture book.
I have become "the quiet old lady whispering hush."
No longer am I the bunny who will not go to sleep!
When and how did this happen? Oh sure, I know it "officially" occurred when my son was born, but when did the change happen in my heart?
This got me to thinking about all of the other children's stories in my life that have famous "motherly" figures in them, and, without thinking, I decided to test my theory and choose characters I could currently relate to the most from a sampling of these books.
To my amazement, I always chose the mothers (or the motherly figure).
Mrs. Mallard in Robert McCloskey's MAKE WAY FOR DUCKLINGS, Mama Monkey in Eileen Christelow's FIVE LITTLE MONKEY'S JUMPING ON THE BED, Miss Clavel in Ludwig Bemelmans' MADELINE, Baba in Jan Brett's THE MITTEN, Mama Cat in Judy West's HAVE YOU GOT MY PURR? (not a classic, but one of Little Scribe's favorite's) even the Man With the Yellow Hat in H.A. Rey's CURIOUS GEORGE AND THE ROCKET. These are just a few of the characters that have moved into my neighborhood.
And of course, my all time favorite--Marmee in Louisa May Alcott's LITTLE WOMEN.
I have officially joined the ranks of literary mothers.
Should I feel sad about this?
Surprisingly, I feel more of a sense of accumulation than of loss, because a part of me will always be that feisty little bunny in GOODNIGHT MOON, not wanting to fall asleep and miss out on all the fun...or George blasting off into space...or Madeline recooperating in the hospital with flowers, candy, and her friends surrounding her bed...or Jo yearning for adventure and scribbling away in the middle of the night...
Maybe that's what defines mothers who are also children's writers. We refuse to let go of both our ducklings and our bunnies, all the while still jumping on the bed!
I have become "the quiet old lady whispering hush."
No longer am I the bunny who will not go to sleep!
When and how did this happen? Oh sure, I know it "officially" occurred when my son was born, but when did the change happen in my heart?
This got me to thinking about all of the other children's stories in my life that have famous "motherly" figures in them, and, without thinking, I decided to test my theory and choose characters I could currently relate to the most from a sampling of these books.
To my amazement, I always chose the mothers (or the motherly figure).
Mrs. Mallard in Robert McCloskey's MAKE WAY FOR DUCKLINGS, Mama Monkey in Eileen Christelow's FIVE LITTLE MONKEY'S JUMPING ON THE BED, Miss Clavel in Ludwig Bemelmans' MADELINE, Baba in Jan Brett's THE MITTEN, Mama Cat in Judy West's HAVE YOU GOT MY PURR? (not a classic, but one of Little Scribe's favorite's) even the Man With the Yellow Hat in H.A. Rey's CURIOUS GEORGE AND THE ROCKET. These are just a few of the characters that have moved into my neighborhood.
And of course, my all time favorite--Marmee in Louisa May Alcott's LITTLE WOMEN.
I have officially joined the ranks of literary mothers.
Should I feel sad about this?
Surprisingly, I feel more of a sense of accumulation than of loss, because a part of me will always be that feisty little bunny in GOODNIGHT MOON, not wanting to fall asleep and miss out on all the fun...or George blasting off into space...or Madeline recooperating in the hospital with flowers, candy, and her friends surrounding her bed...or Jo yearning for adventure and scribbling away in the middle of the night...
Maybe that's what defines mothers who are also children's writers. We refuse to let go of both our ducklings and our bunnies, all the while still jumping on the bed!
Back in the Blog Seat Again
Here I am, once again attempting this phenomenon known as "blogging." Don't know if I will survive this go around, but here goes nothing...
As you can see, this is a much different topic than my last blog. It is one closer to my heart, which may lead to a harder blog to write, as I am more unwilling to merge my two different lives of writing and motherhood together. But, then again, if what I am going through can help another, then my blog will have succeeded.
And now, on to blogging!
As you can see, this is a much different topic than my last blog. It is one closer to my heart, which may lead to a harder blog to write, as I am more unwilling to merge my two different lives of writing and motherhood together. But, then again, if what I am going through can help another, then my blog will have succeeded.
And now, on to blogging!
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