Ellie McDoodle

It's PiBoIdMo time!

2011-10-29T14:46:00.001-04:00

Go to Tara Lazar's blog to read more.

PiBoIdMo is Picture Book Idea Month -- join the group and commit to thinking up an idea per day for a picture book. Read the official blog for inspiration each day. At the end of the month, choose the ideas you like best from your collection of 30, and maybe finish one. Sell it, repeat.

Click here to go to PiBoIdMo

The picture book has taken a bit of a beating lately in the press.
Some e-book supporters are quick to say the paper book is a relic.
An October, 2010 New York Times article claimed parents are pushing their kids to read more complex books, younger, and suggested parents don't find value in books that have to be read aloud to their kids, as picture books are meant to be shared. This set off a torrent of responses, including this charming one from an elementary school and this one in the Horn Book, more recently.

The truth is, the publishing world is changing (as is every other part of our world). To be alive is to change. I don't know where it's all going. Nobody does. Until we find out, I say we quit wringing our hands. Embrace your creativity, keep reading, keep writing, and keep encouraging kids.

I'm joining PiBoWriMo for several reasons:
- I wanted to join last year but didn't because I was trying NaNoWriMo for the first time and didn't want to split my effort. That's National Novel Writing Month, also held during the 30 days of November, and it's the long version of PiBo: Write a 50,000 word novel in a month. Stephen King writes that fast (though I hope his editors don't). Last year I ultimately met my goal for NaNoWriMo -- I wrote an Ellie McDoodle book in a month. The hard part was achieving a 50,000 word count for a 17,000-word book. I counted edits and rewrites, of course. And since a picture is worth a thousand words, I should have been able to add 170,000 to my final word count. Since the work I do is often half art, half text, and I am often on deadline, it can't always be shoehorned to fit the NaNoWriMo parameters. But it fits PiBoWriMo.
(Shutta Crum is doing both PiBoWriMo and NaNoWriMo this year. Cheer her on -- she'll need it.)

Why else I am joining PiBoIdMo:

- Before I started writing and illustrating Ellie McDoodle books, I tried creating picture books. I really thought that'd be my big mark on the world. Maybe it still will be. This is one way to find out.

- I have a neat idea for a picture book going right now. It'll take a while to write, edit and illustrate, but I'm excited about the idea and I figure, what better time to fire up the brain to think of more good ideas than when I'm already ~~bogged down with something else?~~ No, I meant, already stoked and paying attention to the sweet whispers of of the muse.

Are you thinking maybe you've got some picture book ideas that need corralling? Got a novel idea you'd like to explore? Push yourself to join PiBoIdMo or NaNoWriMo -- you won't know what you're capable of until you try.

(Hey, I just found out my writer husband Charlie has joined PiBoWriMo too -- awesome!)

Meet Children's Books Author Audrey Vernick

2011-07-21T01:12:00.000-04:00

A very fun book.

My caricature of Audrey

Author Audrey Vernick is unflinchingly honest and gasp-for-breath funny, in real life and on the page.
When I first met her we were at our literary agent's writer retreat in an idyllic setting near Boston, with a reservoir perfect for kayaking, woodsy paths ideal for writerly contemplation, tables on the patio just right for manuscript  inspiration. And a wide, green lawn that I kept hearing hosts frolicking baby  foxes early in the mornings -- but I never saw them even though one morning I did get up very early to jog. 
This was a lovely backdrop for meeting Audrey and other stellar members of our agent's client list. 
At such events my strategy is to memorize names and analyze people quickly. 
Instantly I pegged Audrey as sort of a sister. 
To me this means she can take endless ribbing (and get even) but she also has a huge heart. She's deep. Compassionate. She plays fair. By now she knows some of my worst faults and insecurities but never uses them against me. 
 
We drove for ice cream one night --

Erin Murphy, literary agent, and Audrey Vernick, literary author

and Audrey's group got lost. (Probably her fault.) We gave up looking for them and drove back to the retreat center, but I remember worrying -- not for their safety, but for us. Audrey's little, but she's a big part of any party.

It was on this trip that I came to know Buffalo, of Publisher’s Weekly starred-reviewed Is Your Buffalo Ready For Kindergarten?


Buffalo is fabulously illustrated by Daniel Jennewein who injects Audrey's visionary characterization with watercolors and caran d'ache to make a naive 
giant of a kindergartener, a sort of Baby Huey for today's kids.
 
And now the Buffalo book has a sibling! A second book, Teach Your Buffalo To Play Drums, debuted last month.


To celebrate, I cornered Audrey and begged her to answer six questions:

1. Why drums? Why not a French horn? Piccolo? Bassoon? Or my favorite, the harmonica? It’s portable, not too loud -- the only problem is you can’t sing while playing. Does Buffalo sing well? If not, I recommend a harmonica.

Audrey's answer:
I'm still reeling from Baby Huey!

The answer to the buffalo question is embarrassing in that it paints me as kind of random and uncreative. But one day, when I was saying something stupid to my son about teaching his dog to bake, I said, "You know, I should write a whole series--Teach Your Dog to Bake; Teach Your Cat to Surf; Teach Your Buffalo to Play Drums." That last one kind of echoed in my head. And I never thought to look beyond the words I said. Your question makes me wonder why I didn't consider other instruments before committing my buffalo to life in the rhythm section. But drums allowed me to write one of my favorite lines, one that was ultimately cut from the final text:

You know what’s really cool? Your buffalo should walk around with his drum sticks all the time, everywhere he goes, just so everyone knows he’s a drummer.

It must be noted: Harmonicas are awesome, too. Do you know Bruce Springsteen tossed me his harmonica during "Promised Land" in 1984? True story.


2. I know you love to research because you produce awesome books that require a lot of it. Can you tell us about an unexpected discovery that still delights you?

Audrey's answer:
You ask fun questions, Ruth Barshaw. I think I'm saving my favorite discovery for a book that keeps not getting written by me, but one I really hope to write some day. So let's go with these two tidbits.

Editing the text of SHE LOVED BASEBALL: THE EFFA MANLEY STORY required cutting away some very important scenes. One of my favorites involved Branch Rickey. He's pretty widely regarded as being the man who, by signing Jackie Robinson to play for the Dodgers, integrated the major leagues. But from Effa Manley's point of view, he was more like a thief. This is a scene I regret cutting from SHE LOVED BASEBALL:

But Branch Rickey, the general manager of the Dodgers, wasn’t done yet. He signed five more Negro League players, offering to pay for only one of them, and just a tiny amount at that.

She couldn’t stay quiet any more.

Effa decided to do something about it.

She wrote to Branch Rickey, criticizing the way he took players without paying for them. She asked for a chance to meet with him. Rickey did not respond.

One day she happened to be at Yankee Stadium when Rickey was there. She marched over to him and explained that Negro League contracts were as real as major league contracts. She pointed out that she could take legal action against him. It is said that she made Branch Rickey turn very bright red.

I just love imagining the moment when Effa spotted him. Keep in mind this was the 1940s. She was both African-American and female. And she upbraided the great Branch Rickey right there in front of everyone in Yankee Stadium.

The other discoveries that don't exactly delight me, but make me laugh, have to do with the Acerra Brothers, subject of the forthcoming BROTHERS AT BAT: THE TRUE STORY OF AN AMAZING ALL-BROTHER BASEBALL TEAM. For this book, I interviewed two of the three surviving brothers from the twelve-member team of brothers. And my repeated refrain to their glory-days stories was, "It's a book for CHILDREN!!" The testosterone stories they told! My favorite example of incredibly bad judgment came from Freddie. He was determined to join the Navy during World War II, but despite living blocks from the Atlantic Ocean, he had one tiny problem: he couldn't swim. I can't tell this story without my head involuntarily shaking, but this is how he solved the problem: he gave his dogtags to someone else, someone who could swim, and had him take the swimming test. Don't think about it too hard.

 
Yikes!!! 3. What is Buffalo’s favorite martial art?

Audrey's answer:
Sumo.

 
4. Are you working on another Buffalo book?

Audrey's answer:
I have submitted a list of possible titles; it's in my publisher's court right now.

5. How do you think Buffalo and Ben-Ben would get along? (Ben-Ben is Ellie McDoodle's hyper little brother)

Audrey's answer:
Buffalo would adore Ben Ben and be tickled by his energy. I think they would enjoy hilarious hijinks together, and I'd like to see how you'd draw that, ma'am. But I think Buffalo would need to nap after a few hours. I don't think a slumbering Buffalo would slow down Ben-Ben, though. I think he would continue, sometimes hijinksing atop a sleeping buffalo.

I totally agree.

6. What’s the question you wish I’d asked? (And what’s the answer?)

Audrey's answer:
What is the derivation of babyhead? (A term I use to describe myself and others).

I don't know the answer. I just know it's a term I use, on occasion, to describe myself. And others.

You've called me Babyhead many times. I don't feel any more enlightened than before. :p

Audrey, if you need to know what it feels like to wrestle in a Sumo suit, I can tell you sometime. My nephew rented Sumo suits for his graduation party last month, and of course I suited up to fight. (Don't do this on a very hot day. And try not to be the person who puts on the suit immediately after the kid in the wet bathing suit.)

As to Bruce Springsteen's harmonica, I am in awe. "Promised Land" is part of why I wanted to learn how to play harmonica. I still can't play it...

Thanks so much for today's duet. :)

  Audrey's other books:

Water Balloon
Clarion Books
September 5, 2011

Her first novel comes out in just a few weeks!

So You Want To Be a Rock Star
illustrated by Kirstie Edmunds
Walker Books for Young Readers
January 2012

Bark & Tim

by Audrey Glassman Vernick and
Ellen Glassman Gidaro
illustrated by Tim Brown
Overmountain Press, 2003

Indie bound link

Amazon link

Barnes & Noble link  

Audrey’s website link

Please check out the other stops in Audrey's book blog tour:

Jean Reidy’s blog (6/22) (Buffalo's bucket list!)

Peter Salomon’s blog (6/29)

Laurie Thompson’s blog (7/13)

And you'll love Audrey's blog.

Gangoblogging: Chris Barton

2011-05-07T23:07:00.002-04:00

You long to experience the world on your own terms. You are smart and brave, but you're a cheat. You have a chance to trade who you are for something better -- for a new life. New thrills. New fear. Do you do it?

If yes, you might be the subject of Chris Barton's new YA nonfiction, Can I See Your I.D.?: True Stories of False Identities.

It's a fascinating read, even if your story isn't in it.

Barton follows ten imposters from history, many of them teens, and he digs into their past and what got them to that point of taking on a false identity, and he doesn't disappoint -- he also tells how they were ultimately found out.

Read this book. You'll be hooked from the first story, where 16-year-old Keron Thomas steals a subway train.
Publishers Weekly agrees:
*Starred Review* [I]mpeccably crafted ... The use of second-person narration is very effective, allowing readers to assume the identities of each individual. Barton's prose captures the daring, ingenuity, and quick thinking required of each imposter.

(Below: sketches from my Gang of Erin retreat sketchbook)

Chris reads from his work in progress in April, 2011.
You're in for a treat: this new book is AWESOME.
And that's about all I can say about it, for now.

I first came to know author Chris Barton many years ago, before either of us had sold any books.

Hanging out at Texas Library Association conference

Like everyone else, I was charmed by his online persona.

Random discussion at the retreat

When he signed with his agent, Erin Murphy of Erin Murphy Literary Agency (EMLA), our fate was sealed: we're agency-mates.

rubber-face profile

Intrigue and suspense built. . . I had to meet this guy in person.

Chris tests my patience with a Draw-Off

My chance came three years ago at an EMLA retreat near Boston. I watched him like a hawk -- and I took notes.

Late at night, all inhibitions gone,
Chris dances at the party in the EMLA room

I met him again last month in Austin, at the Texas Library Association conference and EMLA's fifth annual retreat. Again, I took notes:

Chris and Clint Young, EMLA clients

And then, upon finding out that Can I See Your I.D.? was now out, I begged him to grant a quick interview on my blog:

Me: What were some of the surprises that popped up when you were researching this book?

Chris: One of the biggest surprises was how much in common my individual subjects had with each other, even though they were carrying out their masquerades under vastly different circumstances, for vastly different reasons, even on different continents and in different centuries. I figured I might find a few recurring themes, but the ingredients that go into successfully maintaining a false identity (at least for a while) are unexpectedly universal. Take Ellen Craft and Keron Thomas, for instance. Their stories take place nearly 150 years apart, and she was trying to escape from slavery while he just wanted to prove that he could drive a subway train. But each of them took advantage of the fact that we generally see in other people what's on the surface, and what we expect to see. We don't look at an apparently white Southern gentleman and see a female slave, and we don't look at a guy in a motorman's uniform shirt and see a 16-year-old kid.

There were surprises in my research into the individual stories, too. I discovered that Ferdinand Waldo Demara Jr.'s sister had not died as a teenager, as had been previously reported (and which I wrote about in The Horn Book) -- that had a big effect on my understanding of what motivated him to become a serial impostor. And Forrest Carter, author of the supposed memoir The Education of Little Tree, was exposed as a fraud in The New York Times in 1991 -- but it turns out, the same newspaper had already identified him as racist speechwriter Asa Earl Carter in the mid-1970s, but nobody paid much attention at the time because he didn't yet have a bestseller, and by the 1990s the Times itself seemed to have forgotten.

Me: I'm in the middle of final revisions for my fourth Ellie McDoodle book, at the moment. For me, the process of writing each book has been different each time. Can you share some of your process?

Chris: Oh, Ruth -- I'm so glad it's not just me! The process changes each time for me, too. For my biographies, I used to assemble a timeline of the person's life and then use that to identify the beginning and end of that person's story -- my version of it, anyway. Now, though, I'm more likely to let a theme about that person's life emerge from my reading about them, and then start constructing the timeline.

For my fiction, I used to do a lot more freewriting, starting a story without knowing where it would end, or even whether it was an actual story. Now, though, I more often find myself seeing the whole story before I start to write. I don't know whether that's an improvement, but it's definitely different -- and probably not permanent. I expect my process will keep right on changing, and I'm perfectly fine with that. Discovering different approaches is part of the fun of writing.

Me: What do you wish someone had told you about this author business, before you had to discover it for yourself?

Chris: I wish someone had told me how many distractions there were from the act of actually writing and how one of the most important jobs an author has is vigilantly safeguarding the time needed to produce the words that will be consumed by readers of my books. If I'd had all these distractions -- especially the ones involving publicity and self-promotion and community-nurturing -- when I started, I'd never have written enough or gotten good enough to get published in the first place!

Me, again: Boy, can I relate.

Check out Chris's new book, CAN I SEE YOUR I.D.? at your local independent bookstore.
Or at our EMLA agency-mate's store, The Flying Pig.
It's also on Amazon.
Here's his Amazon author page.
And here's his website.

Get to know more about Chris and his fabulous new book at his other blog tour stops:
On Jean Reidy's blog

On Peter Salomon's blog

On Penny Blubaugh's blog

And, coming in June 2011, on Jenny Ziegler's blog.

Digging into the archives

2011-04-03T20:34:00.000-04:00

Our kid's cleaning the basement, and she found a notebook from my confusion days of 1999 when I was working with a career coach to try to figure out what I wanted to do with my life.
I'd quit my nice job at MSU to work at home 5 years earlier. Had a two-year-old who was a fearless painter (and hair-cutter). I was doing screen printing art and knew vaguely that it wasn't going to last. Design work was dwindling as desktop publishing became ubiquitous.
Hence the career coach.
It's funny to me how close my current life comes to what I was wishing for -- and couldn't put my finger on -- back then.
The following angsty words are from the 1999 notebook, and I'll put an x in front of those in the list that are true of my career today, 12 years later (that's most of them).
------------------
I want to do fast sketchy art and some writing. Travel. Sketch journal. Publish/create books that matter.
I will somehow, someday, build a studio that works.
I think I know what I want to do (comic strip) but it has taken a year of self-discovery to get here. I need a backup in case the comic fails. Storyboarding?? Research it.
I still have not put all my best abilities/wants/values/etc. together for one career. I want the comic -- but might there be something better out there?
Most potent areas of interest and passion:
x sketchy art
x that makes a difference in the world
   earn $70,000 within 5 years
x art I can do at home
x seen by many
x pen and ink, some color
x some freedom, able to choose own subjects
x editor help/bounce ideas off
x some writing/editing
x fun/funny
x some poetry
x Shel Silverstein-like
x occasional presentations to groups and kids
x travel
   well-known in my area (hmm. Tough to judge. I'm getting there...)
x intelligent art -- witty
x loving art
x peaceful art
x poke fun at people who have power but shouldn't
x creative, lively
x freedom in schedule
x art I can do on the road sometimes
x art I can do ahead and stockpile (to accommodate travel)
x clear deadlines
x No or only occasional freelance stuff
   licensing or merchandising
x learn more
x improve my art
   become a modern day master
x have anonymity when I need it
x able to do my art by myself
x compatible with all lifestyles
x compatible with kids of all ages
x pays well from the start
If I could do ANYTHING, what would it be?
Interests:
drawing/sketching, humor, writing, music, sewing, travel, history, costumes, kids, teaching, harmonica, humor, making presentations, debating, poetry, satire, tennis, skating, pets, family, publishing, book layout-design-typography, brainstorming, protecting kids, creativity, resourcefulness, organizing, library, parks, maps, event planning, being alone, being with people, don't help sell things that hurt, family parties, road trips, sketch journals, acting, chat host, html/websites, computer hardware/tech, embryology.
------------
That was 1999.
In 2002 I entered the Simon & Schuster Margaret K. McElderry Picturebook Contest. I didn't win, but loved it so much I suddenly had a new career in children's books. My first book sold in 2005, to Bloomsbury. That's Ellie McDoodle, and I don't think it's possible to be happier with where I am in 2011.

March is Reading Month

2011-03-17T13:35:00.004-04:00

In Michigan and other states in the Midwest (and elsewhere?), March is Reading Month. That means most authors I know are hitting the road, taking their presentation to schools and conferences far and wide.

So far this season (Feb-March) Charlie and I have presented at:

Averill Elementary in Lansing

Chelsea Library for a cartooning workshop (through Jerzy Drozd - went fantastic)

See the highlights video here!

Winn Elementary in Winn near Shepherd

Elmhurst Elementary in Lansing

Attwood Elementary in Lansing -- my kids' old school, and how very cool to revisit

Shepherd Elementary

Borland Elementary in Imlay City

Kurtz Elementary in Milford

Smith Road Elementary in Temperance

Country Oaks Elementary in Commerce Township

Sodt Elementary in Monroe

Michigan Reading Association Conference

Grand Rapids, One Book, One City:

Ken-O-Sha School

Harrison Park School

Pooh's Corner bookstore

Grand Rapids Public Library

North Park School

Buchanan Elementary.

Coming up soon:

Kingsley Elementary in Traverse City

Gardens Elementary in Marysville

Garfield Elementary in Port Huron

Crull Elementary in Port Huron

Fair Haven Elementary in Fair Haven

Blue Water Reading Association Conference

Millside Elementary in Algonac

Algonac Elementary in Algonac

Blue Water Young Readers Conference

Our Lady of Victory in Northville

Dibble Elementary in Jackson

Frost Elementary in Jackson

Wainwright Elementary in Lansing

Clare Primary School in Clare

Cromaine Library in Hartland

and

Houston SCBWI Conference.

That sounds like a lot, to me!

I have a new presentation with a story-creation workshop that is getting rave reviews from kids and teachers. It all started in Sparta, last November. Standing in front of a group of three year olds I suddenly realized they could barely hold pencils and thus would not benefit from the normal Pre-K program I did (using letterforms to make doodles).

So we improvised, on the spot.

The program was such a big success with the littlest kids that we tried it with the older kids. Again, great fun. We used it for all of the sessions that day, and again at the next Sparta school (we visited Appleview and Ridgeview), and at the Holt schools (Wilcox and Midway) and in three Indianapolis schools (New Augusta South Elementary, Eagle Creek and Fishback Creek Elementary).

By December we knew exactly what would make a great program for the spring author visit season.

Thank you to the schools, libraries and bookstores who hosted us (and who are bringing us in still).

Mr. Barshaw (the timekeeper and presenter of votes) and I have had a really great time getting to know students, librarians, teachers, media specialists, principals, support staff, families and bookstore people.

And thank you to our fellow writers, to teachers and librarians and booksellers and PTA/O members who have referred us to other schools for events.

More to come -- and pictures! But right now I have an art deadline to meet.

PS -- Want to schedule me for a school visit? There's still time! Not in March, but in spring. :) Visit my website: http://ruthexpress.com

Back from outer space (that's revisions)

2011-02-25T10:58:00.005-05:00

After spending many months with the next Ellie McDoodle book I can proudly say that I am done living in a fantasy world and am back to real life for a while. (until my editor's revisions notes arrive... then it's back to not-really-here-ness again).

The next book's about soccer. I learned a LOT about soccer while writing it. (Ellie learns how to properly kick the ball, for one thing)

I learned a lot about life, too -- like, for instance, email still comes even when I am not at the computer to answer it. (1347 in the in-box, right now. I'm starting to think I might not answer them all)

Here's a page from my rough art/rough writing for the book:

This picture has nothing to do with soccer but everything to do with teamwork. And there's a reason for the crazy hairstyles.

I hope this art will make it into the book. You and I will have to wait til next Spring to know for sure. :)

My life is a clown car

2010-12-16T15:11:00.004-05:00

My life lately is a clown car: Distracting, too much crammed into an impossibly small space, entertaining but likely to crash and burn if someone isn't steering carefully.

A competition held by SCBWI (http://scbwi.org) ends this week and I desperately wanted to enter. The prize is hugely enticing. The judge is Tomie dePaola!!! The challenge: Draw the opening scene from HEIDI, a book written in 1872, subsequently replotted into films that etched their directors' visions on my brain. How to update Heidi and make her fun for today's kids?
To really do well I had to start weeks ago -- which I did.
Amid all my crazy deadlines and events in November, I sketched out a few ideas.
Nothing seemed original and fun to me. I did some research. Sketched out a few more ideas.

One of my illustrator friends set the bar *very* high with her entry. I didn't have a shot at the prize, so why bother with an entry? Especially with my clown car life crammed with a zillion deadlines.
It haunted me, though. I finished all the other deadlines (except the Ellie book 4 -- that's more long-term) and yesterday at 7 pm as Charlie and I sat in the warmth of a writers' cafe, getting ready for the drive home, I said to him I wanted to try to enter the contest. Even though it ended at midnight. And the drive home was an hour. And I only had parts of ideas that I liked.

Since I didn't have the supplies necessary to create the art at the cafe, we got into the car and headed home. On the way I was smacked by a flash of an idea.
Charlie turned on the interior ceiling light so I could sketch.I protested -- the bright light was very distracting to drivers, not to mention to Charlie!
But he insisted.
And, amazingly, the sketches turned out pretty well. I'm used to sketching in the car -- I do it on almost every school visit trip we take.
The ride was smoother than it's been, because we splurged on new tires a couple weeks ago (one tire had been egg-shaped; you can imagine the bumpety drawings that produced).
I sketched a few versions of my brain flash -- I was excited because it seemed original and fun (my two rules for bothering to enter).
The only question: Could I possibly get it colored and sent to the contest in time? In fact, might the contest have ended at midnight *yesterday*? My brain is good at playing tricks on me.

We arrived home. I gathered up my piles of papers and books, and raced to my studio. Pulled up the contest website. I still had time! Three hours and 40 minutes!
I scanned in the art and tweaked it. Added the lettering. Tweak, tweak, tweak. Color.
The phone rang. It was my mom. Charlie handed me the phone! Nooo!!! I have to work!!! Balancing the phone on one shoulder, talking to Mom, I colored the art. More tweaks. Scanned the final art into the computer -- Oh, no!!! It's garish!! The subtle art turned garish in my evil scanner! Tweaked it some more. Kept reducing the file size until it fit the contest guidelines, and emailed it to Charlie's computer to see if the garish was gone. It was! Victory dance!!
Mailed it to the judges.
I'm happy with it. If it doesn't win, I'm okay with that too -- I have already seen some uber-fabulous entries by other illustrators. May the best Heidi win!

My wish list for gifts:
- a little booklight to keep in the car, for sketching
- a better scanner
- art supplies!
- a little more confidence, please

Maybe I've "arrived"

2010-12-08T02:39:00.001-05:00

If you're an author you should subscribe to Google Alerts, regular notices which tell you who is talking about your work (and, more importantly, whether it's happy talk).

I subscribe, and that is how I found out about a promotional book catalog quote by a well-connected English teacher which starts out, "Greg Heffley and Ellie McDoodle, move over—".

Maybe I should be annoyed.

Ellie doesn't want to move over.

She wants all the sales she can get, and she doesn't want to be edged out by snotty-nosed newcomers.

But there's plenty of room for lots of good books, and maybe strong competition keeps me on my toes.

I'd definitely rather see lots of great books in the Ellie McDoodle format than lots of copycats -- even if it means fewer sales.

Ellie McDoodle won't move over, but she's okay with sharing the limelight.

I can't speak for Greg Heffley, though.

Ellie McDoodle Typography Fun

2010-10-12T14:18:00.006-04:00

I should be writing the next book, because I am on a tight deadline. And that's when my most interesting and amusing ideas come -- when I should be doing something else.
Here's the latest: Ellie McDoodle typography personalities. :)
Note: these are done in Arial; some fonts work better than others

Ö-Ö... Ellie likes

. : c :.

...v

Ö-Ö... Ellie surprised

. : c :.

...o

Ö-Ö... Ellie perturbed

. : c :.

...^

Ö-Ö... Ellie vampire

. : c :.

.(W)

Ö-Ö... Ellie questions

. : c :.

...?

Ö-Ö... Ellie yell

. : c :.

..@

Ö-Ö... Ellie nervous

. : c :.

...=

Ö-Ö... Ellie secret

. : c :.

...X

Ö-Ö... Ellie stoic

. : c :.

(---)

Ö-Ö... Ellie kiss

. : c :.

...*

Ö-Ö... Ellie unsure

. : c :.

...~

Ö-Ö... Ellie happy

. : c :.

...U

Ö-Ö... Ellie determined

. : c :.

.mm

Q-Q... Ellie look

. : c :.

...o

Ö-Ö... Ellie snore

. : c :.

...Z

Ö-Ö... Ellie whisper

. : c :.

...'

Ö-Ö... Ellie joking

. : c :.

...Y

Ö-Ö... Ellie singing

. : c :.

...g

Ö-Ö... Ellie forgot

. : c :.

...j

Ö-Ö... Ellie overbite

. : c :.

..iTi

Ö-Ö... Ellie complaining

. : c :.

...Q

Ö-Ö...Ellie quiet

. : c :.

...e

Ö-Ö...Ellie upset

. : c :.

...A

Ö-Ö... Ellie waiting

. : c :.

...H

Ö-Ö... Ellie whistling

. : c :.

...%

Ö-Ö... Ellie raspberry

. : c :.

...B

Ö-Ö... Ellie afraid

. : c :.

v^v^v

Ö-Ö... Ellie terrified

. : c :.

MMM

Ö-Ö... Ellie McDoodle

. : c :.

..<>

Opinionated me: Knock off the insecurity

2010-08-19T12:14:00.003-04:00

Hey, I'm as insecure as the next artist. I used to be far more insecure than anybody I knew.
My sister-in-law said her husband felt guilty for even being born. Move over, brother-in-law: I did too.
And nobody gave me enough reason to feel otherwise until I turned 40. That's pathetic -- The great Scarecrow might have said: I should've thought of it for you. The Tin Man might have rejoined: I should have felt it in my heart.
But apparently, like Dorothy's return home, this is one of those things one must find alone.

It's still a struggle. I still think I sometimes don't deserve good things. (When my kids were little I used to cry at night because things were so good -- my kids were wonderful and healthy, I had a good job... and I was sure it couldn't last. I cried over what might happen. As my kid would say, that's messed up)

The best way to get rid of the insecurity is to do something you love -- and keep doing it, and do it so well that others notice.
Suddenly you have an excuse to still be alive.

I've done it. My Ellie McDoodle books are a modest success. Thank you, Universe and everyone in it, especially my fans, my agent, the wonderful people at Bloomsbury, handsellers at bookstores, and all the writers and illustrators who nudged, pushed, yanked, prodded, bumped me up along the way. And the teachers who didn't write me off as an insecure mess, which surely I was.

So now I am happy.

But now I get these fellow illustrators and kids' book writers bawling in my ear, "We don't get any respect for what we do! The world despises us! We're not real writers!"
Well, speak for yourself.
At this point in the game I'm calling it artificial insecurity.
If someone's not respecting the hard work and education it took to get to the skill level you're at, then
1) they have an axe to grind (a spouse wishing you'd bring in more money, perhaps?)
2) they are jealous, wishing they could do what you do, better than you
or
3) they are ignorant and in need of a whack on the side of the hea-- no, a little education.

So what's your answer to them?
Here are some responses you may use, free of charge.
- I'm sorry honey that my work in this field didn't pay off yet. Disrespecting my work and my goals isn't going to bring you and me closer together and it's not going to help pay the bills faster.
- I deserve a shot at a career that makes me happy. So do you. This is mine. Find yours.
- Children's books teach our next generation. Don't even suggest that's not a worthy and honorable goal.

But please don't tell me and your fellow creatives that this constant insulting of our industry means the crabbers are right. Because they aren't, and I refuse to be brought down by ignorance.
When you walk around with a "Kick Me" sign on your back, people will gladly kick you. They think you want it, so they're just being helpful -- and besides everyone's got a little bit of a sadistic streak aching to come out in socially-acceptable ways.
Just don't extrapolate your personal insecurity onto everyone else in the profession.

My work pays my bills. Nobody gets hurt from what I do. I'm breaking no laws. I'm not inspiring evil, or even bad manners.
Some schools and libraries treat me very well. From reading my books, some kids are inspired to write and draw and read more, and to sketch in nature. Some adults are inspired to find a new career or create something unusual. That's impressive. You can't tell me kids' book writing and illustration is an inferior profession. I just plain don't believe it.

I know you're concerned, now. Just my raising the issue makes you wonder if I am truly at peace with this. Well, I'm developing the ability to reason my way out of insecurity.
For example, to my kid who's weirded out seeing me in my studio in a cami with too wide an armhole and "seeing the whole situation" as she puts it so delicately, I say:
Hey it's your fault. I gave up my body for you. If I'd never had kids I'd still have a nice body, perky and cute. I accept my decision, you should too.

There's no point to insecurity. It doesn't make anyone feel better. So stop it.
Over the rainbow is now, if you let it be.

Opinionated me: Why I'm attending the conference

2010-08-09T15:58:00.003-04:00

I just got back from a writer retreat with my critique group. Four days away from family in a city far away. Four days of potentially uninterrupted writing time.

It was a hassle getting ready and coordinating schedules for my family, and of course it doesn't cost the same to live in a Bed & Breakfast as to live at home.
And there's the issue of sharing a room -- Do I snore? Do I snore loudly? Do I snore so loudly as to make me an unpleasant roommate?
And would you tell me if the answer was yes?
I'm always nervous that I'll forget something important at home (last year it was suddenly cold outside. I forgot a sweatshirt).
Plus, with my head in my books, and all my angsty issues that seem to rear their ugly heads in the days before any big event, how much good company can I possibly be?

And -- I was waiting to hear back at any minute from my agent about a novel and an Ellie McDoodle proposal I'd sent her.
The editor was 2 weeks late with novel feedback -- never a good sign.

Two days before the retreat I wasn't even sure what I was going to write about at the retreat. With two projects up in the air, not knowing which was a priority (if either), and a third very vague idea of three sisters and some dark stuff, I didn't know how I was going to make my time at the retreat worth the cost of attending.

Weird thing, it worked out, as things usually do. My husband called the first night with agent news: They're using the Ellie 4 proposal to fulfill a contract's second half-- no more sleepless nights.
I wrote a good first chapter to the novel. (This is I think the 7th try).
I have a future.

So why go to the fall SCBWI-Michigan conference in October? I can't sell Ellie McDoodles to the editors there. I don't need a new agent. What's the point, then?

It's this: The mix of inspiration and information you get from being immersed in the craft with other writers stays with you for months afterward and it often regenerates into motivation.
For me, it *always* does.
I have never left a conference thinking I knew all there was to be known.
Never left without seeing and hearing something new.
Sometimes when I leave the conference I'm in disrepair, broken down, dismayed that I wasn't "discovered."
And then I realize, it's up to me to make the discovery.
I can follow up on tips heard at the conference. I can check out the URLs and the books and software and concepts mentioned.

The conference doesn't exist to pair me up with an editor and marry me off to an agent.
The conference exists to expand my brain -- and it does that every single time. Even if I already knew the speakers, memorized their presentations and had read every book they edited, I still could get something out of the questions my fellow writers and illustrators asked.

There's a dynamic component in the conference that you won't get from reading articles online.

As long as I am able, I will attend writer conferences and retreats -- even if it's expensive, even if it's inconvenient, even if I feel dark and scared and uncreative.
For inspiring and moving me off center, writer events are batting a thousand. I have no reason to think this upcoming Michigan SCBWI Fall Conference won't do the same.
And -- bonus!!! -- I get to see dear friends at the same time.
How much better can life get?

Copy & Paste the logo, then stay up late reading!

2010-06-11T22:07:00.003-04:00

At a time when libraries are more needed than ever, the New York Public Libraries are in trouble with heavy cuts scheduled. Check out my pall Debbie Diesen's post here to find out more about it.
I'll be at the Kids Read Comics convention in Dearborn on Saturday and Sunday, but I'll be reading late Saturday. I hope you will too!

Kids Read Comics! A free comic event - Dearborn MI

2010-06-09T17:34:00.003-04:00

Read all about it! Kids Read Comics, you should too!

I'll be appearing at this event all weekend. Bring kids of all ages. Everything's free.
Register at the website for certain events, others don't require advance registration.

Guests who will be attending the Kids Read Comics Convention include:

Arvell Jones, artist of Iron Fist and All-Star Squadron
Dwayne McDuffie, Story editor on Ben 10: Ultimate Alien, writer/creator of Static Shock, writer/producer for the Justice League Unlimited animated series
Jef Mallett, writer/artist of the syndicated comic strip Frazz – SUNDAY ONLY: SEE PROGRAMMING PAGE
Roger Langridge, writer/artist of The Muppet Show Comic Book
Marc Sumerak, writer of Marvel Adventures: Spider-Man
Raina Telgemeier, artist of The Baby-sitters Club and creator of Smile
Dave Roman, creator of Astronaut Elementary and Jax Epoch and the Quicken Forbidden
John Green, artist of Jax Epoch and the Quicken Forbidden
David Petersen, creator of Mouseguard – SATURDAY ONLY
Wolfman Mac, host of Wolfman Mac’s Chiller Drive-In
Chris Houghton, creator of Reed Gunther
Jim Ottaviani, writer of GT Labs’ T-Minus
Katie Cook, artist of Star Wars comics and sketch cards
Ryan Estrada, creator of Aki Alliance and Chillin’ Like Villains
Dan Mishkin, writer/co-creator of Blue Devil and Amethyst, Princess of Gemworld
William Messner-Loebs, writer of The Flash, Thor, and Wonder Woman
Thom Zahler, creator of Love and Capes
Paul Storrie, writer of Gotham Girls comic for DC Comics
Rob M. Worley, creator of Scratch9 and author of Heir to Fire
Corey Barba, creator of Yam
Matt Feazell, creator of The Amazing Cynicalman
Joe Foo, creator of Desmond’s Comic
Mark Mariano, writer/artist of Flabbergast
Tara Tallan, writer/artist of the Galaxion webcomic
Jwan Jordan, writer/artist of The Circular World
Sara Turner, writer/artist of File 49 and The Boys of the Den
Krishna Sadasivam, writer/artist of PC Weenies and Uncubed
Kevin Cross, writer/artist of Monkey Mod and co-host of the Big Illustration Party Time podcast
Mark Rudolph, creator of CV Comics and co-host of the Art & Story comics podcast.
Brandon Dayton, creator of Green Monk
Diana Nock, creator of The Intrepid Girlbot and Imaginary Friends Forever
Michelangelo Cicerone, creator of Ozone Jones
Marion Vitus, writer/artist of No In-Between and How I Learned to Say No
Mike Bocianowski, writer/artist of Yets! - SATURDAY ONLY
The Ann Arbor Comic Artists’ Forum
Brian Germain, creator of Dark Elf Designs
Mike Roll, illustrator of The Trains of Christmas
Matt Dye, creator of Nathan and the Land of Robots
Erik Hodson, creator of Melby Comics
Michael Schwartz, creator of Oceanverse
Shawn Amberger, illustrator and cartoonist
Jim Mackey, creator of Jackpot Bear
Brett R. Pinson, creator of Boomtown Press
Randy Zimmerman, creator of Flint Comix
Stephanie Mannheim, creator of Nate the Non-Conformist
Lauren Houser, creator of The Innocent
Jerzy Drozd, writer/artist of The Front , and co-host of the Art & Story comics podcast
and me -
Ruth Barshaw, writer/artist of the Ellie McDoodle books

It's a surprisingly wide reach in programming.
Librarians, comic artists and writers, animators, authors, people who collect, people who create, people who make costumes, people who teach... There's really something for everyone happening.

Join us!!

Saving Ebersole

2010-05-28T15:21:00.003-04:00

Ebersole is a nature preserve owned by Lansing (Michigan) School District. All four of my kids (and my husband and I, as chaperones) enjoyed camping there and communing with nature in extended outdoor science lessons led by smart teachers.
It's a great resource -- a reason to remain in a school district that sometimes feels too big to care about our kids, and a perk from living in Lansing that families in other districts envy. (At most of my author events I show my sketchbook from Ebersole. It's also on my website. Some people are in awe)

And now the Lansing School Board is planning to sell Ebersole.
It's not far from Lake Michigan. This prime, beautiful land will probably become condos.
A petition has been started with the goals of raising awareness and saving Ebersole. I signed it and commented.

Here's my comment:
"The Lansing schools and I are playing a game of chicken. They're cutting programs and resources I consider important, and I'm defiantly standing my ground, refusing to move my last kid out of Gardner into a nice school in the suburbs (where many of our good friends flocked over the years).

"I watch Lansing Schools decimate their best programs and pink slip wonderful teachers (how could they let Darren Webb go? He would have brought more kids INTO Lansing schools!) and I wonder who will keep their kids in Lansing -- and what will be left for those who stay.

"As a parent whose 4 children adored Ebersole, as a chaperone and resident artist for a couple Ebersole camping trips, and as an author who featured Ebersole lessons in my Ellie McDoodle books so that kids outside of Lansing could benefit from nature contact, I ask that the School Board reconsider: Don't sell this resource which benefits our children so greatly.

"If Lansing Schools must cut something, cut the buses that pick up students less than a mile* from the middle school; there are too many mostly-empty buses and too many kids riding instead of walking.
Or -- better -- brainstorm with us on ways to save or raise money. The school board hasn't even tapped its largest resource, caring families. Bake sales, garage sales, book sales, car washes -- surely we can raise a lot of money if we work together.

"Don't cut Ebersole, one of our brilliant gems that opens minds and connects our children with science and nature. Read Last Child in the Woods, about nature deficit disorder -- and be glad our kids don't suffer from that because they have Ebersole... for now."
-------------
*Some will argue that only kids further away than one mile are picked up. This is technically true. But if Gardner unlocked the northwest gate and cut down the blocking poles at the southwest end, students wouldn't be forced to walk around to the front of the school. This would cut a half mile off my kid's route.
And -- here's a radical thought: What if we encouraged kids to ride bikes to school?

The petition is here. If you're a Lansing Schools parent, teacher, student, former student or former parent, please pass the word, and please sign the petition. Maybe this is one bad decision that we can prevent.

Opinionated me: Five Reasons You Don't Need an Agent

2010-05-21T14:28:00.008-04:00

Sometimes I answer an email to a writing group and what I wrote seems worth saving in case my kids decide to become kids' book writers.
I'm going to start pasting some of them here. They're 100% opinion which means you may not agree at all. And they're tweaked to make sense in the context of this blog.
Here is the first.

The precipitating event:
Harold Underdown wrote Five Reasons Why You Don't Need an Agent.

My response:
Very interesting article, Harold! (As usual)

I remember at my first SCBWI regional conference, wayyyy back in 2003, an agent stood on stage and told us all the reasons we didn't need an agent. Her talk was much like what Harold wrote, only a little more pessimistic. ;)

I thanked her personally, took it to heart and resolved to not waste her time, but to come up with something so great that an agent couldn't resist it. (I figured it would take five years)

Two years later I signed with an agent because of a referral by a writer I'd never talked with or met.
At the time I had a work in progress inspired by promptings from fellow writers to write something in my sketchbook style -- which they'd become familiar with because I'd shared my 2005 SCBWI National NYC Conference sketchbook on my website (And it's still there).
I'd never heard of Marissa Moss's Amelia series nor Jeff Kinney's soon-to-debut Diary of a Wimpy Kid -- I'd been working in picturebooks, and knew very little about middle-grade novels.
I worked hard to make the new idea work and was alternately excited and defeatist, until I met my new agent. Other writers also played a huge role in my happy publication story, and most of them I met on the CW (Yahoo Groups: childrens-writers) list.

What this whole learning process has taught me:
- When it's a good idea to have an agent, it'll probably be very easy to get one.
It's a lot easier to get an agent if you have a contract in hand, a very marketable manuscript or a body of strong work (several manuscripts) ready for minimal tweaking and submitting.
If you have all these things and agents still decline representation then I don't know what's wrong.
How do you know if your manuscript is highly marketable? Show it to a few established writers. If their eyes pop while reading it and they encourage you to finish it and SUBMIT!!, it's probably very marketable.
- Just because someone stands on stage and says everyone needs an agent doesn't make it true.
They might be interested more in self-preservation than in you -- a couple editors-turned-agents are guilty of this and I dislike their calculating insincerity.
We all know writers who sell novels without agents. Agents are very helpful but not an absolute necessity. Though I can't speak to where the industry is headed, this is true today.
- If you write picturebooks and agents only want novelists, don't switch to novels.
Write what's best for you. The world doesn't need more copies of greatness, it needs more original greatness. I don't know about your work, but when people look at my work they seem to be able to tell if I labored over it or if I enjoyed doing it. Surprisingly, it matters.
- Fellow writers often have more to do with shaping our decisions and helping us get to our goals than editors, agents or paid consultants.
It's funny to see writers fawning over editors and agents at conferences, hoping for a mentorship. They're overlooking many who possess the skills, time and inclination to help them hone their skills: their fellow writers.
- Desperation is ugly, awkward and hard to watch, and it detracts from the true goal.
It's better to be desperate to do excellent work than to be desperate to be published or desperate to have an agent. The only shortcut in this industry is self-publication or lowering your standards and signing with a sub-par publisher. Though there's a respected place for self-publishing, I don't recommend it for non-niche children's fiction.
- Be patient.
Every facet of publishing demands patience so it's a good idea to cultivate it early -- because whether you want it or not, you'll develop patience.
- Work very, very hard. If you build it, they will come. Things might not turn out like you'd planned (they sure didn't for me -- I thought I'd be doing daily comic strips for newspapers right now), but if you're doing the work you have passion for and you're putting lots and lots of time into it and you're pushing yourself hard to improve, you will get something amazingly good out of it. Everything else here might be opinion, but to me this last part is fact.

I'm off to write

2010-05-16T11:38:00.004-04:00

If I don't answer your call, if I'm late getting back to you in email, if you don't see me at events around town, it's because I am writing.
I'm working on my fourth book, a novel about a girl who loves to read. I owe three chapters to my agent and editor as soon as I can get them done.
I traveled a lot in the past month and a half -- a week in Texas, a week in Chicago, a couple days in Grand Rapids and then Battle Creek -- and while I tried to work on the novel while on the road, it turned more into thinking and analyzing than actual writing.
I was afraid to start writing when I got home, but now I've started and it won't stop until it's done. That's the way it usually works.
I'll tend to the important things (MRA paperwork, Gango sketchbook uploads, Elliot and the Goblin War by Jen Nielsen, protecting Ebersole, school events in Bloomfield Hills and Farmington, a few other things), and will concentrate on getting this book into shape.
Here's one of the characters:

So if you see me in the bookstore, say hello but don't ask what I've been up to -- it's too long an answer! ;)

Family stuff

2010-04-04T01:07:00.006-04:00

Exactly 21 years ago doctors were telling me I was not in labor, go back to sleep and wait for induction in the morning.
The baby was two weeks overdue and I was anxious to hold her.
But they were wrong. I was in labor, and the baby came so fast she caught everyone by surprise, especially her daddy who was running down the hospital corridor toward our delivery room when he heard a baby cry... his newborn daughter.
Katie has been surprising us ever since.
When she was three, she was that kid who'd take all her clothes off and dance on the picnic table at camp.
She chewed out Santa Claus, telling him he was too fat.
She helped unpack Christmas ornaments, held up a cherub ornament and called it a "kid butterfly with no clothes on."
I captured all these moments in cartoon cards I sent to my ailing grandpa. He died when Katie was four, and the family gave me the big box of cartoons I'd been sending him since Katie was a tiny infant. There it was, all of it: Katie's hilarious early childhood in cartoons.
I thought this meant I had a future in comic strips, but after two particularly heart-rending rejections I gave up and tried kids' books instead. That worked out better.
Maybe someday those letters to Grandpa will be a book.
I'd also like to do a book just on Katie. Here's one idea that hasn't panned out yet:

There will be more; Katie's a very colorful character.
For fans of Ellie McDoodle, Risa is absolutely Katie (right down to one of the surprises in book three, coming out in August, where Risa sneaks an evil pet into the house).
Happy Birthday, Katie!

Texas, here I come!

2010-04-02T14:38:00.000-04:00

Next week on Sunday I am flying to Texas to visit John Cooper School in The Woodlands, and then I'll travel with the librarian there to San Antonio to sign books at the Texas Library Association conference. I'm so excited about visiting Texas!
I was afraid, nervous, at first. I'm always nervous to go on stage, and always nervous to travel a long distance for a book event.
It's not that I'm worried about my safety; I am a neurotic person, angsty and self-doubty about performance, not about flying. I worry about giving the audience the best possible event. Maybe I figure if I blow it locally, I can always go back and do another presentation later, to mend things. But out-of-state travel is a bit more expensive.
To my credit, I haven't blown an event yet.
They've all gone very well, and there have been hundreds. (wonder when I'll hit the thousand mark? should I pay attention to such things? hmm. I vote no.)
The teacher in charge at my last event called my presentation "Phenomenal." (I should get that in writing; the one thing I neglect to do is get testimonials...)
Phenomenal is a nice word. I'm going to try to hold onto that as I prepare for the Texas presentations. Phenomenal. :)

Ahh, Texas. I've been there twice before. Once as a layover on my trip to Mexico when I was 15, and once with my youngest when she was 9 months old, for Chickapalooza, a trip of moms and babies visiting moms and babies in Austin, Post and Altus, Oklahoma.
Our babies are turning 13 this spring. I should dig up that sketchjournal...

Of course I'll bring a sketchjournal with me on this new trip and draw the whole time.
Here are some sketches from the air from recent trips.
The first is on the way to Boston (maybe I was hungry?).
Second spread is take-off from Lansing heading to Santa Fe.
Third spread is that same trip, heading home again, flying over Colorado.A couple weeks ago while sorting stuff from my mom's attic, I found my wings -- the pin I got when flying for the first time. They were from the Mexico trip, 35 years ago. American Airlines.
Now the airlines give stickers to first-time flyers.
I found all the papers from that trip, all the pre-planning, even my luggage tags.
And a ribbon rose with 16 streamers, from a Tuna -- a traveling band of boy musicians.
Our Spanish teacher told us ahead of time that Tunas travel around Spain (sometimes Mexico) and girls sew ribbon roses for them and pin them, and then the boys pin the roses on girls they meet on their travels.
At our hotel in Acapulco, a Tuna band was playing and we stood above them on a balcony, swooning. They played a lot of songs we knew so we practiced our Spanish (I used to dream in Spanish back then, I was so fluent -- had an excellent teacher) and we sang the songs along with them.
Then we raced down to meet them, and one kissed me (woo!) and pinned his ribbon rose on me. The rose is about 2 1/2 inches wide, with foot-long ribbon streamers sewn to it. It's spectacular, even after all these years. Needs a good cleaning, though.

Who knows what this trip will bring? No ribbon roses, no kisses from Tunas (those are for teens, not married moms turning 51), but definitely a full sketchjournal.

Spring Break-- got your journal ready?

2010-04-01T19:16:00.005-04:00

Will you be home during Spring Break?
I'll be at the Ann Arbor Library, Pittsfield branch, on Tuesday, April 6, 2 til 3pm, for a program on journaling, cartooning and whatever else the audience throws at me.
Come join us - we'll make sketchjournals and draw in them together. I promise it'll be great fun!

Planning to go somewhere else?
Bring a journal with you!
I still have my sketchjournal from my high school Spring Break trip to Mexico. I was 15 -- what an amazing trip.
I swore I'd go back every year, but in 35 years I never got a chance to revisit Mexico. Life interfered.
But I still have my sketchbook from that trip, so I can go back in time and feel what my 15-year-old self felt, and it's like being in Mexico all over again.
This is a page out of my sketchjournal from when I was 15. It's one of my favorite parts of Acapulco, the market. I bought one of those white blouses with colorful trim -- mine was white with green embroidery. It's long gone, but the picture of it survives. :)

Ellie McDoodle, Wimpy Girl

2010-03-23T11:02:00.004-04:00

My dear friend Ryan Hipp posted here about Ellie: http://www.ryanhipp.com/blogs/diary-wimpy-girl

Ryan's one of those big teddy-bear guys who does both cute and scary with complete finesse. We spent a bit of time together at the Michigan Reading Association conference this past weekend in Detroit.
I encouraged him to get Patricia Polacco's signature in his Author-Illustrator Autograph Book, and he in turn encouraged me to show Patricia the quick sketches I did of her.
This one of Patricia's back is my favorite sketch in the whole sketchjournal:

The whimsy of it inspired me to draw a couple other famous people from the back, too, including Christopher Paul Curtis (who I didn't show a sketch to because I haven't read his books yet. Bought them ages ago but didn't read them yet. I am a slow reader, better suited for picturebooks).

I thought Patricia was very gracious to sign my book and Ryan's. She added this happy note to my second drawing:
Ryan and I are also in a critique group together.
Sometimes this job is solitary and the only friend I have is the character in my head whose adventures are directing my imagination.
Other times this job brings me close to lots of great people who remind me of all that is good in the world.
School visits and teacher/librarian conferences do that -- they're a lot of work to prepare for, but such amazing fun in their process of unfolding, and even more fun as I visit more schools, get to know more teachers and librarians, and then see them again at conferences.
Could this life be any better? I think not. :)

Fake book news contest

2010-03-16T23:10:00.003-04:00

Be creative! Have a few laughs! Win a free book!
My pal Debbie Diesen is celebrating the birth of her new book, The Barefooted, Bad-Tempered Baby Brigade, with a Funny Fake Children's Book News contest.
Check out the contest and some very funny entries here.

Hurry - the contest ends March 19.

March is Reading Month!

2010-03-16T20:54:00.004-04:00

This is a busy time of year for many authors. In the Great Lakes area, it's Reading Month.
Here's my author visit schedule:

March 5 Fri Lone Pine Elementary in West Bloomfield
March 1-4 Charlie jury duty (whew. Called in every day but he didn't get a trial)
March 10 Wed E E Knight Elementary in Ovid Elsie
March 11 Thu Hillside Elementary in Harrison (Clare County)
March 15 Mon Central Academy in Ann Arbor
March 17 Wed Vowles Elementary in Mt. Pleasant
March 18 Thu Elmhhurst Elementary in Lansing
March 20-22 Michigan Reading Association Conference at Cobo Hall in Detroit
March 24 Wed Horizon Elementary in Holt
March 27 Sat 4 to 6 pm Michigan Author Day at Barnes & Noble in Grandville
March 30 Tu Family Lit Night at Holly Academy in Holly
April 1 Thu Bartlett School in South Lyon
April 6 Tue 2pm Ann Arbor library - Pittsfield branch
April 11 Sun fly to Texas
April 12-13 MonTues The Woodlands school visit
April 14-16 Texas Library Association conference in San Antonio
April 25-28 International Reading Association Conference in Chicago
April 29-May 2 Thu-Sun Agent's writer retreat in Chicago
May 11-12 Tue-Wed Battle Creek schools

We're halfway through March already, and so far my author visits are going well. The kids are enthusiastic and attentive, the teachers and staff are helpful and friendly, and the school walls are decorated with fabulous student art.

I'm juggling a few other things, too: I'm working on a novel about a girl who likes to read and am playing with a picturebook about a mischievous cat. (Mostly it's the novel. I promise, Erin. <- agent who asks, at the end of every email, "So how's that novel?")
The novel is going pretty well. It's a little scary because the process is very different from writing the Ellie McDoodle books. I'll be seeing Erin next month, so I don't really have a choice: I have to have a lot done before then. Yikes.

Besides being an author, I'm also busy being a mom. My daughter's middle school volleyball team has its last game on Thursday. Charlie and I have managed to go to most of the games. It's been fun cheering for the team and learning the girls' names and embarrassing our kid (by cheering for the team and learning the girls' names... sometimes I think just the fact that I exist embarrasses her).
We're off to see The Lightning Thief movie pretty soon because I managed to squeeze into this busy month the task of reading the first book in Rick Riordan's series. It's our daughter's favorite book, and I feel generally compelled to read whatever impresses her.
Very good book, worth giving up a little sleep. (Maybe I can learn a few things from Riordan)

And now, I'm off to catch a favorite tv show and then to bed. Gotta get up early; it's a long drive to Mt. Pleasant in the morning. :)

Happy Valentine's Day!

2010-02-14T15:45:00.007-05:00

My husband found this for me today.
It's the rough draft of a Mother's Day poem written by my son, Joey, when he'd just turned 11.
I will leave the punctuation, spelling and capitalization as in its charming original.
--------------
marvolous is she
M - mom qualities that she has a lot of
O - other stuff she's good at
^ outstanding mom that she is
T - taught me how to live
teacher of me
H - ha ha is her laugh
happiness she brings to me
E - ever forgiving, she is
eternally grateful am I
R - Ruth is her name
reluctant she is not

M - moron, she is not
mother of my lifetime
O - ouchies she makes better
our love will never end
M - merturnity clothes she wears
my great mother she is

I love you

--------------Joe is a songwriter today.
I bet he's writing songs and sweet poems for his wife, now.

We don't know, sometimes, the seeds we sow, in the daily work we take on.
We can't tell if they're pretty weeds or heirloom roses until time has passed.

Sometimes our good ideas take root and blossom into beauty that changes others at the same time it helps us.
Sometimes our ideas are seeds that fall on rocky ground -- they can't take root without help from others.

Books are like that.
They spring from a germ of an idea, but they need nourishment to grow into a full book.
So many hands take part in bringing up a book, and it's not just the obvious, the author, the long-suffering partner/spouse of the author, the critique group, the editor, agent, designers, copy editors, publicist, salespeople, librarians, teachers, booksellers, various specialists, the reviewers, the discerning readers...

Books need communities in order to grow.

Authors need friends, connections with humanity that sprout ideas and inklings and what-if's.
Writing can be a lonesome career, but no writer writes alone.
Out of life springs new life.
Out of all of us spring new books, new music, new poetry, new ideas, new ways of looking at what has continued for many thousands of years.
We are the collective creators of art, inspired by each other and by everything around us.
Even if you don't feel creative today, you are inspiring someone else. That's the beauty of our inter-connectedness.

Happy Valentines Day!
May you find little surprises today and throughout the year that make you feel good, that make you feel loved, that make you feel creative.

How to know if your editor is fabulous

2010-01-20T17:35:00.008-05:00

I'll use the feminine for this, because my editor is a woman. But please substitute if yours is a guy. I know some great guy editors.

How do you know if your editor is fabulous? Answer these questions.

1. Is she supportive when things aren't going well?
My editor has always been unfailingly patient during my rough times. I have a big family; I have a lot of rough times (deaths, illnesses, weddings, angst).
She's also patient during my rough writing, first drafts, awkward prose and obvious mistakes.

2. Are her edits heavy handed? Or does she leave room for your own voice in your own writing?
When my first book copies arrived, back in 2007, I was astounded to see how many of the copy-edits that I had suggested were ultimately adopted. My editor acted surprised at my surprise; "of course we'd try to accommodate every request; you're the author!" whereas I'd been led to believe, by other writers, that your vision for your book is abandoned once you sign with a publisher.
I'm learning from her editing -- it's making me a better writer (thank goodness).

3. Does she respond to your emails? And is she warm in her notes to you?
My editor doesn't always write back as fast as I'd like her to. She's the publisher, besides being an editor. She works with very famous authors. I can't fault her for not coddling me and my author angst 24/7 (author angst is legendary; my insecurities are legion).
But she does always sign her notes affectionately and she does always respond quickly on important matters. I feel if we weren't working together, she'd be a fascinating friend who I'd love to get to know better.

4. Does she edit other work besides yours? Are those books critically acclaimed?
Every publisher has a different sort of feel. And not all books are good for all people. The list at one house might not appeal to a particular reader, even if the books are critically acclaimed and the reader is brilliant. We all have different tastes -- and thank goodness for that, because as an artist I can't imagine anything more drab than a world where everyone agreed on everything all the time.
I am not the biggest fan of each of my publisher's books, but I'm a big fan of a lot of them. Ellie McDoodle is not the top book in the catalog (though I hope it gets near). Like not wanting to own the best house on the block, I don't think I want to create the best books in my publisher's catalog; I want something to aspire to, a reason to always try to do better.
My publisher puts out enough great works every season that I am proud to be part of their list.

5. Do you get paid on time? Royalty statements arrive unprompted?
I don't know. My agent takes care of this. I do know there have been a couple times when we asked my editor to intercede and she did. My family hit tough times last month, and my editor helped me get paid faster than normal. It was a kindness, something I will never forget.

6. Does she buy every book you write?
Mine doesn't -- and if she did she probably would not be a good editor. Ha!
I've pitched a couple books that were stinkers (you know, in a meeting when I should have bitten my tongue instead). My agent has pitched a few that I still believe in, that my editor didn't. Pitched a few that needed work. She bought 4 books from me. I'm satisfied with that track record (though of course I am trying harder to only offer books that are irresistible).

7. Does she work hard at her job?
Mine works maybe too hard. I get emails from her in the wee hours of the morning, on weekends, over holidays. I like having an editor who works as hard as I do.

8. Is she good with words?
My editor weighs her suggestions, balances observations, measures responses, and is careful about what is said and what's left unsaid. More than once I've babbled to her, watched her face for clues, saw the smile, realized belatedly I wasn't saying anything new, quieted down, and listened... and benefited from her wisdom.

9. Does she spend a lot of time blogging and building up warm, fuzzy feelings in the writer community?
My editor doesn't, and honestly I am glad for that. Her priority isn't her own name, it's writing. If she weren't publisher she'd probably have time for lots of other pursuits. I'm okay with how she handles what's important to me.

10. Is your editor human?
Well, yeah, mine is. She's endured some pain and I am sure she makes mistakes, but she isn't a faceless, nameless company pawn. I can't speak to how she is elsewhere, but she's sensitive, thoughtful, and fair in all her dealings with me.
Her name is Melanie Cecka. She works for Bloomsbury. They've taken some knocks for some of their decisions, and I have opinions on the decisions and the knocks, but I respect her and her staff. They're good, dear people and I am lucky to work with them.

I drew this in my sketchbook while walking out the door after meeting with my editor and her staff in NYC, Feb 2006, for the first time:

I am SO in love with my job of being an author and illustrator of books for kids.

My editor would find a lot to edit in this note, but I'm going to post it anyway. I have other writing to get to, specifically a girl who likes to read and a boy who likes to run.

Ellie McDoodle, rising star

2010-01-08T18:54:00.006-05:00

As Ellie McDoodle gets better known, I see little Ellie-isms pop up in new places.

Friends tell me of Ellie spotting, finding my books in bookstores, art museums, nature centers and Michigan highway Welcome Centers.
Some kids use Ellie-isms in their everyday language. I've heard "Cheezers!" exclaimed at events. And a dear friend's artist son once told her he was having "an Ellie McDoodle moment."
Kids tell me about their families, using characters as shorthand: "My brother is just like Ben-Ben" or "He's like Er-ick, when Ellie draws him like a monster."
I find it funny, flattering, and sweet.

Likewise, this video.
I didn't make it; it's a fan-fiction video.
Some enterprising kids came up with a script and shot a little movie for a contest on KidsTube.com.
I don't know if they won, but I'm honored by the name of their main character.
---------

Video Description:

Ellie McDoodle is exploring an ancient bathroom and finds an American Idol Singer whose dreams were crushed and a CRAZY lady who has a plastic pinapple husband. Please watch it and comment. No insults. If you don't like it, just don't comment! I hope we win the contest! :) p.s. we will make more vids
---------
See the video here.
It's silly and fun and the actors show great enthusiasm. If I were grading it, I'd give them an A for Awesome.
Ellie exploring an ancient bathroom, hm. . . Two summers ago at a writer retreat I talked with archeology professor and future famous author Jeannie Mobley about using an archeology theme for a future Ellie book. It could still happen. Probably won't be bathroom-centered, though maybe a pineapple will make an appearance. ;)

Best of luck to all the young filmmakers out there.
Keep reading!

A Rally of Writers

2010-01-04T14:43:00.004-05:00

I see the date's been set for the Skaaldic Society of Lansing's A Rally of Writers:
April 10, 2010.
This is a day-long writer conference held at the beautiful and spacious Lansing Community College West Campus.

My writer-husband Charlie and I attended the Rally of Writers ages ago, long before we joined SCBWI. It was great every year, but one year Charlie said we shouldn't return to the Rally until we were published so we'd have something happy to report at it -- you know, that old "I'm not *really* a writer yet, so I shouldn't attend writer events" sort of thinking that those of us with low self confidence wallow in. Plus we had little kids at home; daily life was a challenge.

Getting published took years. We delved into comic strips, satire, self-published mini books. . . and then eventually I joined SCBWI in 2003. A Rally writer kept urging me to join SCBWI earlier but I was bullheaded, impoverished and easily-distracted.

It's disappointing to realize I could have been living my dream much earlier, but I guess every path has value, even the meandering one.

Last year the Rally of Writers folks asked me to present a session on kids' books.

I was happy to do it but didn't expect to find much of use for me, since I have a genre that works for me, and a career, and no desire to branch out.

Boy, was I surprised.

Several of the sessions were of immediate, applicable use. Lev Raphael's memoir talks were particularly fascinating and deeply moving, and I learned a lot about poetry from keynote speaker Gerry LaFemina. If my sketchbook were handy, if I weren't on[line, avoiding a] deadline right now, I'd upload sketches.
Charlie enjoyed it too, and I think it jumpstarted his new writing career.

I'd definitely go back, either to present or to sit in the audience: Two thumbs up for Lansing's Rally of Writers!

How I work

2010-01-02T22:12:00.005-05:00

Yesterday I dismantled my makeshift desk next to the Christmas tree in the living room: I'm done with the art for the third Ellie McDoodle book. Well, mostly done; there'll be a few revisions/requests.

For a month I've had a mini-studio set up in the middle of the family action, because while writing is more of a solitary venture, art requires the energy of people around me. Plus I need short, intermittent bursts of breaks from it to keep it fresh, whereas with writing, breaks can sound the death knell of creativity.

Upon my mother in law's death a couple weeks ago we inherited, among other treasures, two tv tables. I've wanted a pair of tv tables for a long time (I knew they'd be perfect for temporary desks), and these came at a useful time.
Before them, I stacked things on an ottoman; not very stable, no leg room.

So this was my portable art studio:
- one tv table with my editor's handwritten notes on the penciled art pages, plus a Mason jar of water and a bag (pink wintergreen lozenges) or roll (Mentos) of mints, plus an assortment of bad carbs and good raw veggies.
- second tv table with my lightbox balanced on top. On that, graph paper, pencil, two pens, razor blade for mistakes, and the penciled rough to be inked.
The light box isn't the nice one I used in college or at my job at MSU. It's an 18" x 24" cardboard strawberry box from a supermarket with a hinged plexiglass lid which is still encased in the blue plastic I bought it in years ago. The blue cuts the light and reduces glare. Better would be a portable box with frosted glass. Someday...
Inside the box is a portable flourescent light fixture with an on/off switch.
- round plant table with a box of files on it: About 2,000 papers which include drafts 1, 2, and 3 of this book, both writing and art, editor comments, a thin sheath of loose paper for inking (too thick a packet is discouraging), a couple encouraging notes from my agent and editor, and a folder of "Must adds". I hope I remembered to add all the musts. . .

Every day at about 1pm I set up my workspace next to the Christmas tree, across from the tv, turned on the tv and all the lights in the living room and plugged in the tree lights and the light box.
I settled in for about 15 hours of work, taking only very short breaks, working until 4 - 6am, quitting when hallucinations started. I'd watch whatever not-too-mindless thing was on tv (on our new Christmas present, DirectTV): Dog Whisperer, Mythbusters, anything on Science, Nat. Geo. or Discovery Channel, sometimes a movie (my favorite was The Miracle of Morgan's Creek, about a lady carrying sextuplets; wartime America's response to the Dionne quints in 1944). I learned about survival techniques used in disasters (have confidence, take immediate action, believe your time is limited, practice evacuation routes in advance), how to make a car skip across a pond like a stone (redistribute the weight, pump up the acceleration to 100 mpg), what's the dirtiest thing in your house (kitchen sponge), secrets of Pompeii (I don't know why, but this story has gripped me since I was a small child), and I scrawled down the websites and prices of at least a dozen infomercial products that looked like a good deal to my addled brain. I watched Clean House on the Style channel, wished I could do that to my house, but disliked the sometimes-bullying tactics.

I worked methodically, sometimes stopping for commercials and sometimes working through them and stopping for the main attraction, usually mixing both. I tried to ignore the page number of the art I was working on because knowing I still had 75 pages ahead of me would be paralyzingly disheartening.
I ignored the phone and email. Opened Christmas cards, read them, grunted appreciation, and got back to work.
Went to Christmas parties only because I had to. Ate no meals in the dining room. Barely showered.
Paid attention to my kids or spouse or grandkids only when necessary.
I quit working in the wee hours of the morning, turned off all the lights, put my work in a safe place, scrubbed my face and teeth and collapsed into bed, then woke up 6-7 hours later and started again.

Some days I was very productive. Some days it felt like I worked and worked and worked and accomplished almost nothing. That's typical for a book.

When it was all over early Saturday morning I spent a few hours copying all the art, then took a nap, then ran it all over to UPS.
It will arrive in NYC on Monday morning.
Next I'll make the text revisions requested by my editor, and unfortunately that's a more solitary task. I don't have a good computer to work with in the living room yet. When all the text changes are done there will be a few art revisions to make, and then my editor will send ARCs (galleys) for copyedits. That will take a couple weeks -- it'll probably be the end of January. I think? Then I jump into the next book, a novel, with a synopsis and 3 chapters due ASAP.
I'm filled with such self-doubt right now, despite meeting this huge deadline. I worry they won't love the novel. But maybe they will. It's about a girl who has trouble balancing things in her life. Sounds familiar, eh?
As they say, write what you know.

What's the best thing about being an author?

2009-12-28T02:52:00.005-05:00

One of the best things about being an author is knowing other authors.

My 12 yr old, Emily, just finished Sarah Miller's brilliant MISS SPITFIRE: REACHING HELEN KELLER Atheneum Books, 2007, about which Richard Peck says, "Miss Spitfire is high drama about how language unlocks the world." I adore Sarah and I love her book and I love her brain.
When Emily announced she'd found the book on my shelf, started reading, and just finished it, I was excited to hear what she thought of it.
The Helen Keller story has always fascinated me, but I may have been over-zealous in introducing Em to it. She's watched The Miracle Worker (w/various casts) several times and wasn't as obsessed with it as I am. I, uh, kind of forced her to watch.
So I didn't shove Sarah's book at her and encourage her to read it. She found it when the time was right for her, in between readings of the Lightning Thief, Sisters Grimm and Twilight series. I'm so glad she did.
There's not much more satisfying for me as a parent than seeing my kid discover something great on her own. When Emily entered my studio and started talking, I listened. Then I started taking notes, typing what she was saying. With her permission I mailed her stream-of-consciousness review to Sarah, who responded with a lovely note and an offer to mail a signed bookplate.
So I am happy.
My kid is thrilled.
Which makes me even happier.

I'm an author. At four family events in the last week, kids who are Ellie McDoodle fans who happen to also be my relatives engaged me in discussions about Ellie.
Now, I'm accustomed to meeting with kids at schools, libraries, bookstores, chatting about my books, asking what they liked or didn't like, and I'm always happy to discuss future plots or give a sneak peek at the work-in-progress.
But I'm not used to talking with fans at family events. It's a little weird to talk about work with kids anyway; they were never interested in the logos or brochures I used to design.
It's good, though. I love connecting with all readers.

My status is up a little higher than it used to be, due to my books.

But it really shoots up if I have a special connection to a relative's new favorite author.
At Christmas I learned my niece Alex likes Gail Carson Levine's books. I met Gail! I sketched her in NYC. I told Alex that Gail is a lovely person and is petite, like Alex's mom. Bing! My status bumped up.
When I handed my nephews Chris Barton's THE DAY-GLO BROTHERS with a flourescent bookplate and told them I know the author, and he's really cool, my status went up a couple points. Bing! Bing!
When I handed my oldest daughter Liz Scanlon's ALL THE WORLD (illustrated by the fabulous Marla Frazee, who I got to help shadow at an SCBWI conference), she read it to her baby and she was very touched by the message of the book. When I told her I know Liz -- and also Marla! -- and I saw the book before it was published, and it's going to be a Cheerios book and probably also a Caldecott contender, my Mom status bumped up a few more notches. Bing! Bing! Bing!
My niece is a fan of Libba Bray. I don't know Libba, but I did meet her husband (and he likes Ellie McDoodle, and he's a friend of my agent's)... Bing! Bing! Bing! Bing!
My grandson loves THE POUT-POUT FISH, by Debbie Diesen. I know about her new books; she has some amazing work coming down the pike... Bing! Bing! Bing! Bing! Bing! Status shoots through the roof.
It just occurred to me: I could send Amy Huntley's THE EVERAFTER to my cousin's teen daughter. I bet she'd adore it. And I know Amy well! Bing, bing, bing, bing, bing, bing!
And now Sarah Miller is sending a bookplate.
I could go on forever. I have hundreds of writer friends who can make me look good by association.
What, me, namedrop? Heck yeah.
Wish I knew that Wimpy Kid author...

Post script: Sarah Miller's bookplate for Miss Spitfire arrived -- it's in Braille! Is that cool or what?

Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah!

2009-12-25T16:03:00.004-05:00

Wishing you a great holiday:
This is my sketch on Christmas morning for the back of our card.We're off to a party at my cousin's. Then a party tomorrow at my sister-in-law's. Then a party the next day at my brother's. Then I think we're celebrating Thanksgiving at my house on Wednesday (because we never celebrated it with our little family -- too busy running to all the relatives' houses). In between all that, I have book deadlines. I should bring the work to the parties. Hmm...

Happy New Year!

Drawing on life for a tribute

2009-12-22T09:14:00.005-05:00

I was going to do a card to hand out at the funeral, with Mom Barshaw's picture on it. Then I decided not to. Then one of my nephews asked if I would, so that night I drove 90 miles home, set pencil to paper not knowing what would come out of it, and drew.
Then I slept fitfully and got up for the long drive back to Detroit for the funeral early in the morning.
It was almost magic, how the image came out of the pencil without much anguish, in the middle of the night. This doesn't happen often; generally funeral cards are a difficult labor of love. Maybe I'm getting better at this.
Here's my mother in law:

As it was coming out of my pencil, I first noticed the eye on the left looks just like some of her daughter's eyes. This astounded me.
And there's my husband's chin, and another daughter's eyebrows.

It always surprises me when I see someone I know in my drawings.

It's also odd to meet someone on the street who looks like one of my recent drawings. I want to rush up to them and shake their hand and ask a lot of personal questions because I feel like I know them well.

Taking these cards to the funeral, I felt self-conscious and awkward, as usual. I always worry that the rest of the family will hate the art, or that they'll think I'm uppity for printing copies, or greedy for getting self-promotion during a sad time. In this case I didn't hear any bad comments, but the funeral director put the cards in a place where I doubt many noticed them. Someone took home a stack of these. Maybe they'll go in thank-you notes. Maybe they'll be lost to the ages. It doesn't really matter; I did my part, giving what I could give. I drew Mom. The original sketch will go to the nephew who asked me to draw.

And I'm back to working on my book.

My editor has gone home for the holidays. They're closed all next week. They wanted the final art done before Christmas; earlier this morning I was thinking, if I can manage 30 drawings a day plus revising text, I can still get it out by Christmas. Thinking in the wee hours of the morning, it wasn't quite a dream. More like a nightmare.

How to get through loss

2009-12-16T10:35:00.005-05:00

Of course, death comes to us all (even Kirkus, the venerable book review company). Until it does, we're charged with the task of living. I have learned that death gets easier to handle with each new loved person lost. I've learned a few other things too:

When a loved one dies and someone asks what they can do, give them a small task.

Feeling helpless in the face of a loved one's misery is one of the more awful human emotions.
My daughter-in-law asked what she could do, begged. My first inclination: "Nothing, honey, we're fine." But I remembered prior deaths, how important it was to me to feel useful. And so I gave her something to do: bring a pizza. She wanted a list. Less than an hour later she was at the front door with pizza, crazy bread, orange juice and milk, a sympathetic smile and a warm hug. (she's wonderful)

When someone dies, know that you will have visitors.

I'm glad I thought to clear the dining room table, always a mishmash of newspapers, crafts and homework. We had an impromptu party with most of my kids, reminiscing about their Grandma Katie. It felt good.

Surround yourself with loved ones and talk.

It will be unforgettable. In a week where a lot of things will happen that are also unforgettable, but unpleasant, this will shine as something good.

Do something strenuous.

Something safe that makes your heart pump and reminds you that you are still alive. At midnight, Katie, Emily and I walked a couple miles in the snow with our big, at-first-uncooperative puppies. It was ridiculously cold, one leash broke. We stayed out until my legs ached -- it was better than a Wii Fit run. And the peace of a neighborhood at midnight in winter, the silent Christmas lights in windows, felt like prayer.

Get the word out.

Deaths don't only affect close friends and family; no man is an island. Grief shared is greatly diminished. It's why we have funerals. I have been deeply touched reading memorials to people I never met, tributes I stumbled upon, on the web. Reading how beloved people chose to live always inspires me to do better, myself. If someone important to you dies, tell me. I want to know.

Don't make decisions if you don't have to.

Today I stopped at Walgreens for immunity boosters. I noticed they sell contact lens solution. I've gone through extra amounts in the last day. It became a difficult decision, the cheaper store brand or the name brand? Is there a difference beyond price? One's for sensitive eyes. Are my eyes sensitive? Will the name brand last longer? Because I don't use the stuff that much, normally. Single bottle or money-saving double? Give the second bottle away?
It was almost overwhelming, trying to decide. My eyes teared up.
Thank goodness something broke the loop in my brain and I grabbed a bottle (I won't tell which; I won't start second guessing the decision).
Conventional wisdom says, don't buy or sell a house, don't do anything drastic in the wake of an important death. I'd add: Don't make *any* decisions if you don't have to. Change what you must, otherwise stick to routine; there's a reason it works for you.

Be kind to yourself.

Walking around the store I saw things I wanted to buy for Mom Barshaw. She wasn't one to accept gifts, by the way, and went to great lengths to give them back. It was a challenge to give her something she liked and would keep (and I so love a challenge). I saw a magazine on angels, and another on faith, perfect for my mom and for her too, for Christmas. Then I remembered she is dead. Instant grief. I bought the second set, not for Mom Barshaw, but for me.
I'm glad I didn't see a Snugglie there. I'd have likely bought it as well. She was cold, the past few months. I get cold sometimes.
See where this is going?
I looked in the reader glasses mirror, and I didn't see me. I saw my mother-in-law. Tired, older than my age, eschewing the candy aisle. If there had been a small child in the store I'd have fussed over it.

In that moment I understood why Mom often called to let us know about special offers or holiday shows on tv: It made her feel useful. She gathered information and coupons and disseminated them among her children, always considering who would benefit most. Suddenly I saw myself doing the same thing.
I came home and squashed a bug with my bare hand. Mom Barshaw did that all the time; I thought I never would.
It's depressing being 80 years old 30 years early, but I accept it, knowing it's temporary.

Forgive yourself.

There are always things I wish I'd done sooner. I'm the Queen of Regrets, dating back to my father dying when I was 12 with love unspoken. I don't make that mistake anymore, but I sometimes let other regrets haunt me. There's limited time, limited order in life, don't waste emotion on guilt that isn't really earned.

Know that grief comes in waves.

At unexpected times the reality will overcome you and it might bring you to your knees. You might doubt your sanity. Keep doing what you're supposed to do. The wave will subside.

Death isn't something to "get over," it's more like a permanent fixture in the living room of your life. It's a lamp you won't be rid of. It's always there, sometimes almost beautiful, other times hideous, always unwanted, but it's something you work around, something you deal with but always know is there. Over time as more people die it's another table, a sofa, a painting you never wanted to accept from a giver who won't be refused. You can close off that room so the stuff won't crowd out your life and kill you, or you can learn to arrange it, live with it, make it work. I choose to make it work.

Throw yourself into a creative project.

Speaking of work, back to it. This book won't write itself.
I'm making the last revisions to the text (am on page 108) and inking final art (am on page 92). I'm glad Ellie McDoodle isn't a long book; 170 pages seems do-able. My pace is slowed but not stopped.
Tonight I'll draw a portrait of Mom.

Mom Barshaw

2009-12-14T15:11:00.004-05:00

Hospice has been called in for my mother-in-law, Mom Barshaw (her name for herself; we called her "Mom").
So here I am, stuck 90 miles away, on deadline for this book, and trying to keep my head in the book, when my heart is in Detroit.
Mom's in good hands. Her kids are gathering. My husband Charlie is headed there now. He was there yesterday and all weekend; he was there when the decline got worse. He's been at her side often this past few months.

This started in August. The kids had a birthday party for her (she was turning 80) and she didn't want the day to herself so she made Eddie, her youngest, and me share it. He's 40, I'm 50.
It was the typical party at Rosemary's, wonderful, with great food because most of the Barshaws are excellent cooks -- we're talking chef quality.

Mom didn't look healthy at the party. It was alarming enough that the kids took her to the hospital on the way home. Since then she's had a couple surgeries and procedures, some wicked meds interactions -- deplorable care by some of her "doctors" but good care from nurses and therapists -- and her kids have given vigilant 24-hour care.

Mom Barshaw had 9 kids. One, Mike, died when Charlie was 18; they were best buddies starting to take opposite paths. There's a novel in that, I keep saying, but it isn't mine to write. Charlie's a writer and after a long dormant stage he's writing again; maybe he'll tackle that story.

Recently Charlie was given his dad's wallet. Inside is a clipping, a newspaper article about a writing competition Charlie won as a kid. His dad carried it for years -- you can imagine how touching that is.
Mom has been cleaning out boxes and living spaces for a couple years, giving us such things as old photos and books. We have the sweetly-inscribed book she gave to Dad about the time when they married.

And she gave us the story Charlie wrote at age 13. It's very, very good! I knew when I married him he was the best writer I'd read; this is proof he had early talent.

Mom and I butted heads on a few things. Sometimes I did funny things just to exasperate her, like cutting a piece out of my birthday cake before dinner -- and cutting it from the center of the cake. (I was 35, young and silly)
But we didn't leave love unsaid. She closed every phone call with "God love you, God bless you." I saw her in person a few times over the past couple months, while picking up or dropping off Charlie (we only have one car) and I said it aloud, "God love you, God bless you, Mom," and she looked pleased.

Mom has always had rock-solid faith. She believes in prayer's deep power and potential; we called each other when we needed prayers. I liked to think I was the devoted biblical Ruth.
I knew her death was coming. I've been warning Charlie and my kids so it wasn't an awful surprise. Funny how you can plan for something and it still surprises you. With every person I lost, I felt they left too soon.

I was close to Charlie's dad. Mom gets to join him now, and her son Mike, and her parents who died when Mom was very young (orphaned, Mom raised her two sisters, sacrificing her own dreams for theirs; there's a book in that, too). She has had a tough life, but I believe Mom will be very happy soon.

Mom is a good, honest, strong, hard working, determined woman. She loves me despite my many shortcomings.
So how do I get this book done when all I can think about is Mom?
Pray for focus, I guess. Go easy on myself. I've lost enough dear people to know that this won't be easy. But Mom believes hard work is prayer; I will work hard.
So, back to work now...

I have 85 pages of final art done. The second half is due ASAP -- hoping to have it done this week. It's a stretch, even in ideal circumstances. I'm good under deadline, though.

On the passing of Kirkus: A eulogy

2009-12-11T14:36:00.004-05:00

Kirkus Reviews: 1933 - 2009

My goodbye:

Kirkus, I wanted to love you. I yearned for your attention, but you spurned me. You gave me no stars. You said a few good things about my first novel, but you didn't gush. In time I realized that was a good thing. If too many reviewers had gushed, I might not have pushed myself to produce better work the next time around.
I worked hard on the second book. Worked my poor fingers to cramps, and my back to aching. And did you give me a star that time? No. You withheld your affection, doling out a few little gift words like a tightwad who'd already overspent his budget in early December. No matter; I worked harder on the next book. I was determined to win your favor. Determined to get a star. I studied. I stayed up late. I read until my eyes dried and my contacts stuck. I developed a permanent squint.
My third book is almost done. I was giddy with excitement, sure that this, finally, would earn your smile. But you died before even getting a chance to hear my book's heartbeat.
I would dedicate this book to you but frankly I have a list of other people I owe more to. And people would think I was sad and desperate, carrying a torch for someone who, if I had been the one who died first, would not even blink.
Alas, Kirkus, I hold no grudge.
May you rest in peace, and may we meet again, someplace where fallen writers gather to argue about syntax, and where unkind words are drowned out by harpists. I do mourn your passing, even though you did not love me.

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KIRKUS AND ME:

Book 1 quotes: "Part journal, part graphic novel, all fun (with echoes of Harriet the Spy)." -Kirkus Reviews
Book 2, Kirkus review: (Audible sigh of relief, here, when this one came out, but then I celebrated -- though there's no star. I hoped book 3 would bring a star)

ELLIE MCDOODLE: New Kid In School

"Although Ellie McDoodle knows that moving means the end of everything good, her sketch journal (which, glumly, begins, “The End”) shows her gradually making a place of her own in her new house, finding friends and conducting a successful nonviolent campaign to improve the school-lunch situation. Ellie is lucky in her move; her house is roomy and her neighborhood full of young people who gather for evening group activities. This sequel to Ellie McDoodle: Have Pen Will Travel carries healthy messages: Ellie finds a new friend in the librarian; reading is more interesting than TV and video games; her new friend’s Down syndrome brother is just another piece of a complicated life; peaceful protest works. But readers won’t notice as they gobble down this fast read, enjoying the jokes and riddles, familiar situations and interesting instructions for group games and paper-folding woven into the story. An appendix includes an interview with the author and suggestions for making and keeping a sketch journal." --Kirkus Reviews

The end of Kirkus Reviews

2009-12-11T04:36:00.003-05:00

Wow.

I find this shocking: Kirkus has been offed. Murdered. Kaput.

Kirkus reviews, which has been around for 75 years, is ended. And apparently its brother, Billboard, is in trouble too. (Maybe because Billboard gave Taylor Swift the Artist of the Year title? Hey, my kid's a big fan, and after what Kanye did to Taylor at the MTV awards, she deserves a great year)

When Kirkus gave my first book a "not bad" sort of review, my editor said that's a good thing; Kirkus was "known to be persnickety." I liked that quote and used it often, especially to console other writers who received less-than-glowing reviews.

Kirkus was, to me, a curmudgeonly uncle whose favor I was always hoping to win before he died.

RIP, Kirkus.
And best of luck to the staff, who I hope find new jobs soon. We've been doing the Unemployment Shuffle at our house for most of the year. You learn the steps quick enough, but it's not much fun.

What I've been up to lately... Book 3 cover!!

2009-12-02T01:42:00.004-05:00

Here's a sneak peek at the rough art cover for Ellie McDoodle: Best Friends Fur-Ever:

I am thrilled -- what a cool cover! Not much pink on it, that's a good thing. ;) I have a lot of readers who are boys.
The parrot in the book is an African Grey, not a macaw, so the colors of the bird will change.
And the layout will change a little -- the bird won't be weighing down her shoulder anymore.
You'll see. :) It'll be in stores next summer. Amazon says August 3; they know more about that than I do!
Watch this blog for sketches to be uploaded in the coming weeks. I'm very excited about this book. Fans of the series will love it, I am sure.

Ellie, one of the decade's top chapter books, says a very smart reviewer

2009-12-02T01:25:00.005-05:00

Ellie McDoodle makes the list of Best 25 Chapter Books of the Decade, by this mom-librarian who's keeping track of such things and seriously knows her books.
My book's in impressive company. Woo hoo!
Just wait til the world sees the next Ellie book, coming out next summer. I'm working on crazy deadlines for it right now, and it's my best book yet. :)

Where the Wild Things Are

2009-11-08T14:44:00.004-05:00

I finally saw Where the Wild Things Are, the film. I thought it was outstanding. I want to buy it. (I don't buy many).
This will sound heretical, but I was not an early fan of Maurice Sendak's seminal children's book, Where the Wild Things Are.
I bought it, of course, because I was a conscientious young mom who tried to buy the great books. In the Scholastic Book Club flyers that came home from school with my kids I always searched out the Caldecott and Newbery winners. I remember telling my Aunt Marj that I bought those because those were the best books and I wanted to expose my kids to the best.
She said they're not always the best books.
This was distressing to hear. As a crazy-busy parent I wanted an easy, no-think method to as many things in life as possible, and here she was, poking a hole in my carefully-derived plan to expose my kids to only the best in literature and children's art.
Gradually I started to think for myself, and question the award winners, and buy on principle rather than on stickers.
Where the Wild Things Are is one of those books I bought because everyone was talking about it, and it looked fun.
I read it, and wasn't impressed. Maybe the kid in the book reminded me too much of my wild brothers.
Maybe I was afraid of the anger.
Maybe I just didn't "get" the point of the book.
I didn't dislike it; I read it to my family, and it wasn't their favorite, so it went back on the shelf.

I dragged it out of the bookshelf archives to create theme decorations for the baby shower of my brother's first child, no doubt a future Wild Thing.
The decorations were adorable.
I still have them -- I saved some of the monster pictures, and the little boy in the wolf costume (which I added heart buttons to, maybe to soften his anger?).
I hung the monsters on my studio walls and one on the window. They've been there for years. (Well, my niece is now 14) (and she isn't wild)
One of my friends bought me a Where The Wild Things Are t-shirt (sold at Target a while back) for my birthday, one year. I try not to wear it to writer events because I don't want someone reading my chest ("So that's where the wild things are, eh?") and making me blush.

Watching the movie reminded me that the book is scary (Sendak agrees) and that the monsters are not lovable and soft (my decorations are smiling monsters. Fangs, claws, but no indication they'd ever actually use them).

I wouldn't take a four-year-old to the movie. Well, not one of my four-year-olds (see aforementioned easy life desire).
I might take my almost-seven grandson; I think he could relate to hyperactive Max.
As an artist, I loved the film. It was inventive and a feast for the eyes.
As a kids' book writer/illustrator, I loved the film. It built the characters in ways the book was too short to do. It set up an expectation and exceeded it. It repeated worthy motifs and demonstrated wise foreshadowing.
As a parent, I was glad the kid at my side is 12. She fully "got" the story, the intention, the inventiveness, and -- bonus -- no nightmares for me to deal with later.
I loved the film.
Kudos to all involved: the screenwriters, the soundtrack developers (also outstanding), the costume and makeup people, the person who cast the kid (because he's believable, and I dislike films that star terrible kid actors). Kudos to all who took a risk on this film.

Happy Halloween!

2009-11-01T08:20:00.004-05:00

I was at Libba Bray's blog (here) for the name of her book that got optioned for a movie (a dream probably every author harbors), because Charlie was talking about The Lovely Bones movie, and it made me think, I don't write on my blog much. I don't know who reads it. I don't know if it's fun to read when there's something there. I do know it's not fun to read when there's nothing there, and lately there's been a lot of nothing. I don't even publicize my upcoming author appearances. So that's changing...

Halloween usually sneaks up on me, but this year I was ready.
It helped that it fell on a Saturday. We had events all week, leading up to it, including Emily's haunted house in middle school (o0O0o.o0O0o, scary!).
It also helped that, despite massive quantities of vitamins and echinacea, I had a slight sore throat yesterday, and as a result had lowered expectations for my involvement in the holiday (read: I sat on the couch munching popcorn while watching tv, no guilt) (please don't tell me how corn translates to sugar in the bloodstream, and sugar is friend to infection and won't help me get healthy. I know this)

On Friday morning, no sore throat yet, I helped transport my grandson plus 24 fancy cupcakes and a gallon of orange juice to his 2nd grade classroom.
Charlie (husband & substitute teacher) and Emily (7th grader) took the car to the middle school. Oldest daughter had a meeting in the morning which left me to get her kid off to school. Enter my son, who was willing to leave his bride and warm bed to drive us to school. I think it also may have been raining.

At school I:
- balanced like a tightrope walker through crowded halls, delivered the gigantic box of cupcakes and juice and then ran out of the classroom before they could make me teach a game or bag cupcakes.
- decided to look in on a few of my teacher pals and found one who'd gotten stuck in traffic behind a jack-knifed semi for a half hour and missed her chance to set up for the classroom party before the kids arrived. I helped tape the Evil Twister game into place, and helped set up food. Another parent jumped in to help tape (evil tape) and I started thinking about a Halloween book in my head. If it comes to fruition you'll know this was the origin.
- took a prime position in the hallway and then raced over to the gym for two views of the costume parade. Wow, what great fun. My favorite costume: Captain Underpants. Obviously homemade (which I love) and this kid did not look happy to be in his undies, which sparked instant sympathy. How many times have I picked a costume in the quiet safety of my home, then regretted it the instant I stepped out in public? Too many times. Kudos to that kid for taking a risk. It's so much easier and so much less creative to buy a scary mask and dress all in black. (which, I've done that, too)
My friend Frank was dressed in a tablecloth dress and funny wig. He's always entertaining -- a book waiting to be written. Great parade.
- talked with some of the other parents about the middle school band concert the other night. We're in crisis over there. We had an outstanding, best-ever, top of the line, absolute greatest band teacher you could ever hope to meet, for two years, and due to budget cuts he was pink-slipped in June. He has found a new job in another state. (cue: wailing and gnashing of teeth) In his place they forced a young orchestra teacher who minored in music and doesn't know band.
It's outrageous, unfair, disheartening. At the concert the band played like they'd lost two years of instruction. They went from competitive to grade school in one season. I blame the school board and am voting to replace the non-responsive among them, hoping for a big change.
- chatted with my pals in the principal's office, hugs to the librarian Marty and the school secretary Cindy and the custodian, trouble-maker Mary, and a few of the teachers, some whom my kids were lucky to have and others whom I befriended over the years.
- noticed the morning was only half-over, and reluctantly headed to my grandson's classroom to experience the mayhem. I picked his teacher's brain (ew! there's a visual) a while about Ron Clark and outstanding teachers, and then offered to draw the class. Teachers at this school always seem to have a pen, paper and clipboard on hand in case a visiting illustrator happens by and offers to draw the class.
It was only mildly stressful: No compunction to draw every single kid, as there has been some years. I just drew various kids at the various centers of activity, a few games, crafts, cookie decoration.
Tip learned years ago from the kindergarten teacher: If you don't put too much detail into the art, several kids claim one drawing is them, and every kid feels represented. :)
Unfortunately I finished quickly which left time to bag the cupcakes, a messy job to the extreme. Those cupcakes were adorable in the box (picture this with a lot more frosting in colorful layers, as tall as an ice cream cone), but by the time they were squished into sandwich bags for the trip home they were sloppy and goopy. Some kids actually refused one pink-and-brown gloppy mess-in-a-bag until I scooped out some of the icing with a paper towel and made the insides of the bag a little prettier.
This is the kind of job I'd have loved as a kid: I'd have joyfully licked my hands in between each cupcake-into-the-bag maneuver, and had to go wash them two dozen times. For an adult, a far less enchanting task. And, racing against the clock, because NO WAY was I hauling that enormous box back home without a car, adorable leftovers notwithstanding.

We took the woods route home from school, instead of the boring sidewalk. Not everybody gets to walk in the woods on Halloween. It's a special spooky science lesson on foot.
Picture us: Me dressed in Halloweeny clothes and big cat eye glasses, my grandson dressed as a pterodactyl riding a horse (yes, you read right, and it was hilarious), picking our way carefully through the burrs ("The origin of Velcro!" I say to him each time) and spider webs (new appreciation for those ever since the golden orb spider tapestry debuted), and peeking between the trees to see how far off course we were, targeting my house behind the woods.

We discovered a big, long, ant-ish beetle.
We discussed the big drain -- a creek used to run there.
We noticed in the back part of our neighbor's yard, about 30 feet from where the creek used to be in the woods, we could clearly see the outline of a 25-foot wide ghostly building in the grass. It's been gone for 50 years. Maybe much longer. Weird how clearly we could see it. I told him about my husband's friend who, while visiting a while back, spotted the square footings of a house there, probably a log cabin from a hundred years ago. At the time I couldn't see it at all, but now I can.

Friday afternoon my daughter came early to pick up her kids and life quieted down quickly. Ahh, respite.

Friday night we drove to a local hangout for our friend's impromptu retirement impromptu party, where we got to talk with great friends and met a few more new friends who made us laugh hard. I took a homemade sketchbook to draw the event but -- and this is a first -- got so engrossed in the conversation and laughs that I forgot to draw.
I get so comfortable in my cave. So anti-people, so hibernatory. I'm fine that way. I enjoy it. And then someone forces me to get out of my brain and my studio and socialize and meet people, and I enjoy that very much also. It's a weird dichotomy which I try not to analyze.

On Saturday Emily made mummy hotdogs and bat biscuits. They were both cute and yummy. And since both mummies and hot dogs have a lot of preservatives in them, they were historically accurate. Nice.

Four of us went to see the latest Harry Potter movie (book 6, Half-Blood Prince, which I'd read but forgotten WHO the 1/2-blood guy was, so that was a nice re-surprise). Unfortunately we sat behind a young mom and three kids ages 7, 3 and 3. Way too young for that movie, way too disruptive. (Note to self: Examine surrounding seats before matinees) That was annoying, but the movie was OUTSTANDING. If you haven't seen it, go.
Charlie and I discussed the character development and various things we loved about the movie, for an hour, last night.

It's a longgg movie. We got home just in time to carve some pumpkins (one Ellie McDoodle, one Ben-Ben, and one little guy throwing up) quickly, scrounge for candles and get them set up before the first Trick-or-Treaters came.
Because of daylight savings time being pushed back a few weeks, it was still light outside. Trick-or-Treating in daylight is like wearing a seatbelt on a tricycle.
Charlie took Emily (pirate) out on the rounds. I stayed home handing out Kit Kats and Reeses Peanut Butter Cups. Usually Charlie takes Em out for the first half, then brings her home and either takes over handing out candy or, if the candy's gone, goes with us.
This time her big sister Katie who's home from college took her out for the second half and my sore throat and round-the-clock infusion of vitamins and anti-cold remedies kept me inside. Stove-popped popcorn, a few episodes of The Office, both British original and the US version, evaluated Katie's outfit (Goldi-Goth and the 3 Bears) for her friend's party, and then we went to bed early because we had to get up early Sunday: Emily was invited to go to Cedar Point amusement park with her cool cousins. It's a bit of a drive. She was picked up at 7:30am.
Today's the last day of the season. It should be cold, windy, and a lot of fun.

While she's gone the rest of us will have Family Night (which is a daytime event, lately, but not as offensive as daytime Trick-or-Treating).
After the kids leave maybe I'll get a bit more done on the third Ellie McDoodle book. And I'm thinking I could definitely do a Halloween book out of all the crazy chaos that defines my house...
But for now, maybe it's time for a nap (I'm beating this cold!).

----

My next author event: Thursday Nov 19 at 7pm Barnes & Noble East Lansing on Grand River: Book fair for St. Martha's. Come chat, buy a book, support a good school!

Literary Pumpkins!

2009-10-29T23:48:00.004-04:00

Check this out: Pumpkins modeled after kids' books.
And -- bonus -- one of the books is the brilliant and wonderful Debbie Diesen's fun rhyming read-aloud book, The Pout-Pout Fish!
'Tis the season to carve a pumpkin; why not get your inspiration from a kids' book like the kids at that cool school did?

Vote for All The World - in Cheerios!

2009-10-15T13:07:00.003-04:00

Vote for the fabulous ALL THE WORLD (or another favorite) to be in Cheerios boxes! http://bit.ly/zbmOQ once a day thru Oct. 30.

Liz Garton Scanlon is the author and it's a wonnnnderful book, poetic and lovely with a universal message. Plus Liz is a great friend. :)
Marla Frazee is the illustrator and she did a beautiful job -- I've admired her work for ages and she's great fun-- I got to hang out with her a bit at a local conference. Together, they make this book a tour de force.

It's a huge honor for their book to be considered for Cheerios. I hope they win. :)

The SCBWI Conference in my region

2009-10-06T00:49:00.007-04:00

This past weekend SCBWI-Michigan hosted Author/Poet Ellen Hopkins (link leads to my pal Kerry Madden's blog post, Ellen's recent poem about censorship) and Author-Illustrator Matt Faulkner and Editor Harold Underdown and Art Director Loraine Joyner of Peachtree and Literary Agent Jennie Dunham and Author Leslie Connor and Editor Tim Travaligni of Putnam. The whole weekend was outstanding. I advanced both my writing and my art, learned a lot and had a fabulous time.

Best take-away tip which was made clear right before the conference and then reinforced all weekend:
Do what you're best at. Pick what you want to do and pursue only that. Be persistent, never give up, but especially be yourself. Don't lose sight of that thing that you have that nobody else has -- because it's valuable.

Here's an interesting thing: The stuff my portfolio critiquers liked best was the wolf art from last month (pencil sketch here) -- and this picturebook art from 2 years ago --

and this piece I did wayyy back in 2002 -- for my very first picturebook. It didn't sell (didn't win the Margaret K. McElderry contest I entered it in) but it's nice to know the art still works. I always liked it. Maybe I'll revise the book and sell it someday. After reforming into a molehill that mountainous To-Do pile on the desk...

It's been three months! Where ARE you?!

2009-10-05T22:44:00.007-04:00

No worries, I am right here. :)

Here's an update for the kids who've been writing me, asking why there's nothing new on the blog.

I've been busy. I have two new picturebook ideas, one new novel idea (which it sounds like my editor loves, so far), and I'm working on the third Ellie McDoodle book (still).

I have only one puppy now, but a second lives here with daughter Katie who will move to college in spring, and a third puppy visits often, with my son, and three others come by every couple of weeks. The seventh puppy came to stay with us for a few days last month. The eighth puppy we haven't seen since the day he left us back in July.

Here's the cool thing about the puppies that visit: They remember me! They run up to me and cover me with kisses and I always tell them they're doing a good job growing up big and strong and amazingly cute.

They really are big now. Well, most of them. Two are very short: Clarence and Iggy (formerly Feisty Helena). Iggy is short and skinny. She lives with my friend Diane. Clarence is our puppy and my husband says he looks like "a clawfoot bathtub with a head." This cracks me up. Clarence has very short legs and a long body (we don't think he's part dachshund, but we don't know for sure...) and a very long whippy-waggy tail, and a wide stocky head. He's funny looking and I adore him.

I'm thinking of putting him into the next Ellie book.

My first dog is in the second Ellie book, the fuzzy little guy on page 7. He was usually a happy dog, so I had to imagine sadness for that picture. I miss him; he died of old age this past summer.
I'm glad we had puppies after that. It was a welcome distraction.

I'll post more about my summer soon -- it was long and adventurous.

Speaking of adventure, I'm headed up to Michigan's Upper Peninsula very soon. It's beautiful up there. Lots and lots of hills, forests, waterfalls... breathtaking natural beauty. Copper and iron mines, Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore, Lake Superior (a.k.a. Gitchigumi), the Soo Locks, Whitefish Bay (have you heard the Gordon Lightfoot song about the Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald? It's a haunting tribute to a crew of sailors on a ship that sank when I was a teen).

I'm not sure how much we'll see up there, because I'll also be busy with 4 school presentations, a library appearance and a conference.
Marquette, here we come! (Katie's staying home to watch the puppies but we're bringing Emily along)

One more thing I've been busy with: Art. This is my granddaughter, Isabel, taking her first steps and learning to run about 15 minutes later.

Yikes! Hide the fragile stuff!

How we lost 1 dog and ended up with 8...

2009-07-15T12:26:00.004-04:00

Last Thursday I sat on the couch and stroked the fur of my beloved elderly miniature poodle, Willie, and told him it was okay to go if he felt it was his time. He died peacefully at 1pm. We didn't even get a chance to call the vet for euthanasia; they were closed for the day. I felt lucky that he died so beautifully, lucky I was with him and that he wasn't in terrible pain.
I did not feel lucky that he died.
We raised him from a tiny puppy, took him everywhere, taught him an assortment of silly tricks, gave him bad haircuts and incomplete trims. He was cute and very puppy-like in appearance, even as a little old man. And he was my shadow.
I knew I was going to miss him with an ache that wouldn't soon ease. I buried him with heart-shaped rocks.

Two days later by an odd combination of events, we found ourselves at the local animal control shelter, not to find a replacement, but just to observe life. We could have been anywhere else that day. We could have left the shelter early. We could have taken home the big old dogs we befriended there, convinced it was the right next path for our lives' journeys.
But we were there at closing, at the right time to see an old van pull up, and a sad young man bring out a big bin. I knew it was puppies or kittens in the bin. I thought, what kind of person brings a whole litter to a shelter? How irresponsible.
I actively avoided the drama, but it sucked me in: My 12 year old daughter was trapped inside the now-locked shelter, and the keys were with the animal control officers who were talking to the guy with the bin.
And since I saw prison inmates helping in the shelter, I wanted my Emily out of there as soon as possible.
The officers let Emily out of the building.
I let myself relax, then, enough to hear the man's story.
He's unemployed (so's my husband, and the guy across the street, and a few of our good friends, and a few relatives... Here in Michigan it's a common start to a story).
He lost his house. He and his family (wife, two teens with Down's Syndrome -- and that's another story in itself, but to me it said, here's a family with compassion and mercy) were moving to a relative's house for a while. They couldn't bring the dogs.

He found good homes for 3 puppies and the two parent dogs. Mom: full-blooded American pit bull terrier. Dad: half small Rottie, half big chihuahua.
In the bin: EIGHT puppies, age 7 weeks.

The Humane Society sent him away -- too many pups.
Animal Control was closed til Tuesday.
They asked me to foster the pups just til Tuesday. It didn't take long to say yes.
I promised the man we would find excellent (stable, appropriate) homes for the puppies. I turned down his offer of $25 for food until Tuesday.

Katie (age 20) and Emily were thrilled. My husband Charlie... not so excited.
But we did it.
It was an exhausting mix of sleeplessness, cooperation, and cramming our brains with Puppy 101 information from the Monks of New Skete (that's how I'd raised Willie), and Wikipedia, and an Animal Planet dvd.
Many times I felt like Octomom, torn in 8 directions.

I swear, puppies are liquid. Not that they pee a lot (they do) but that they disperse and spread like only a liquid can. This idea came to me at 3:30am as I tried to corral them enough to not lose them to the dark bushes and any hiding predators (we have hawks in the woods behind us), but not so much that they were inhibited about 'doing their business.'
Frantic that we might have 8 puppies forever, I put a note on my Facebook page. Friends came immediately, and some eventually adopted puppies from us. One of my fondest memories is of a bunch of neighbors and my kids and me (and Charlie) on the lawn with the puppies, giving them love and reporting on potty accomplishments and comparing each pup's personality and physical traits.
It was so sweet, and it took me right back to when our across-the-street neighbors had newborn puppies 6 years ago and they let then-6 Emily gently hold them that very day they were born.

As of yesterday, we've found homes for every wonderful pup:
Othello went home with Mary the first night.
Lady MacBeth became Bella, at Tyson, Beth's and Sydney's house. And we've seen her twice since. Yesterday she nearly licked my chin off. I'm convinced she remembered me.
Feisty Helena went home with Diane and Steven, dear friends who swore they were only coming over to help pet the puppies. I'll see her a lot. :) (She likely has a new name too, a comics-related one, because her big dog companion there is named Squee)
Henry became Zeus after going home yesterday with Michelle after a neighborhood picnic. He was perfectly behaved there and lots of people fell in love with him. I teared up kissing his forehead goodbye. If that adoption doesn't work out, I have another lady waiting to take him.
Tybalt will become Zeus also (!) next week on Friday, when he goes home with Heather. It's not yet a good time for them to take him.
Rosalind, Rozzie, is up north vacationing with my son and his wife. She will live here until they find an apartment that allows pets (or negotiate with the current landlord).
Boots Tewksbury is Katie's now, and he will live here until she moves out, maybe this fall. (She's taking a break from college)
Clarence is ours. He's the right combination of spirit and docile, intellect and playfulness, for Charlie, Emily and me.

Those are all Shakespearean names -- did you notice? It all started with a hamster named Hamlet.
I'll probably still tell my funny Willie story in my author events at libraries -- kids always laugh on cue. I won't tell them Willie is gone now. I don't want to cry at author events.
But, maybe soon I will have funny puppy stories to tell, too.

The vet gave us tips on avoiding aggression, and he answered a million questions, and he gave them their first shots.
The neighbor kids come to play a few times a day.
We still have to get up in the middle of the night. Charlie's become an active participant in their care -- he handles the morning shift. I am grateful to have Emily and Katie around -- they're experts in the puppies' care too. Katie's teaching them to sit. I think they've caught on. I also think they've gone backwards, a little, on potty training. (argh)
We aren't looking for new puppy homes anymore -- we're all set.

I looked in the mirror a couple days ago and noticed I was smiling.
The sadness of losing Willie won't evaporate, but I feel very lucky to have had, for one day, the distraction of eight new puppies to love. (the next day it was 7, two days later it was 5, today 4...) But, really, as losing Willie taught me, I'll always have those puppies to love, even if they're in new, far-away homes.

And now, I have to get back to revisions for Ellie McDoodle: Best Friends Fur-Ever, due in stores in 2010. If you see Shakespearean names in the finished book, you'll know why.

(No photos of the pups - my digital camera broke last year. No drawings uploaded yet - I've been in survival mode. At some point I'll upload some)

FAQs: Has your life changed since becoming an author?

2009-06-18T17:32:00.005-04:00

Today another writer asked me, "Has your life changed since becoming a published author?"

My answer: Oh, yes.

I go to bookstores and libraries about as often as I used to (once a week or so), but now I usually look for my book on the shelf.
If they have it I offer to sign it.
If they don't, I show them my copy and give them the elevator pitch: explain how it's often compared to Diary of a Wimpy Kid (a book almost everyone knows), and how it appeals to both reluctant and avid readers, boys and girls alike. Usually they say they'll check it out online.

I travel more now -- visited 23 schools in March alone. I have stayed in very nice hotels I couldn't have otherwise managed. Hunted for Petoskey stones, learned more about the Underground Railroad, flew my family to Manhattan. I love mixing travel, art, books and kids. There's nothing better.

I used to wonder if I'd ever find where I fit into the big publishing world.
Now I have a better idea of my strengths and weaknesses.

I used to wonder when I will be financially solvent, when I will pay my bills without worry, when I will be able to buy whatever I want, within reason.
Now I know... it'll be a while.

I used to wonder what it would be like to do author presentations in big, fancy libraries with famous names on them, to compare books with famous authors and illustrators, to walk into a bookstore unnoticed and spy on a person buying my book off the shelf.
Now I know. It's fabulous. It's amazingly wonderful. It's better than I thought it would be.

I used to marvel at how Real Authors put together word after word, sentence after sentence, metaphor after brainstorm, on and on, to a completed book and a sequel and a series. I thought they were brilliant -- that they had a magic muse that spoke into their pens and typewriters.
Now I know:
It's with thoughtfulness, hard work, B.I.C. (body in chair, I tell kids at my school events), writing when your brain won't produce anything great, pushing yourself through rejection, through fallow times, through melancholy and depression, through anxiety and panic, through uncreative lulls.
It's with faith that when it's finished, the book will be worth reading, even though there are many times before then that it seems impossible.

I used to think that when I got published my insecurities would end.
Now I know they merely shifted. I still worry about whether the next book will sell. I still write down every idea for a new book, scrabbling to get it down before it escapes me, and I wonder if it'll ever see real, typeset words on real paper between real paper-over-board covers.

Once in exasperation my agent said, in a crowd, "Yes, Ruth, you're my favorite." I felt mortified -- flashback to my childhood: were the others going to beat me up for garnering probably-temporary favor? -- and I felt embarrassed -- of course she was being facetious, wasn't I perceptive enough to pick up on that? -- and I felt exhilarated -- maybe she really meant it, just a little!
I guess I haven't grown much since I pushed my brothers and sisters out of the way so I could have alone time (alone nanoseconds) with Mom.

I used to think learning was a curve, starting low, climbing, then falling, with a finite end. Now I see that it never ends -- and in fact the amount of stuff to learn is an ever-growing mountain.
The more I know about writing and illustration and books, the more I want to know about writing and illustration and books -- and the more I realize I don't know.

My editor said a few years ago that we want Ellie McDoodle to steadily climb the charts, not to shoot to the top right away.
I didn't understand why, then.
Now I do.
Each stage of this publishing life has meant an adjustment for me. I don't know how I would have handled it if it had happened big and quick.
I'd sure like to find out how I will handle it, when Ellie gets to the top. :)
(meaning, I hope it gets there!)
I love where it's at right now, too.

Are you a writer? Keep at it. B.I.C. It's worth the effort and the pain.

Kids Read Comics Convention! Free!

2009-06-08T18:45:00.006-04:00

Coming up soon! This weekend!
Friday/Saturday, June 12-13: The Kids Read Comics Convention in Chelsea, Michigan at the Chelsea District Library (and some at the River Gallery and Chelsea Depot). It's FREE! Every bit of it is FREE! And there's a zillion things to do there. Tell everyone you know. Bring the kids. Register in advance for some of the events. All the programming is listed here and it's very impressive.
Masquerade ball and auction, Arts Jam, lots of informative and fun sessions.
Ever want to write or draw comics or comic strips or find out more about how it's done? This is the place for you!
Got kids who love to write or draw? They will adore this convention.

I'll be doing some drawing and doodling at it, and I'll be checking out some of the other presenters, too. I'm so excited to be a part of this -- read all about it on the Kids Read Comics Con website.

Wish I could be there for the whole thing!
But I'm in New York City this week, flying into Detroit just in time for the Saturday part of the convention -- I'm visiting Columbus Elementary School in New Rochelle, and then speaking with a book discussion group at the New York Public Library -- the big building with the lions out front, at Fifth and 42nd.
I'll also sign a few books at the wonderful Books of Wonder store and meet with the brilliant people who help put together the Ellie McDoodle books, the staff at Bloomsbury. (I loooove Bloomsbury. I have the best Editor. And the best Publicist. And the best School-Library expert. And the best Art Director. And the best support staff in the world. I'm lucky to be working with them on the next two books. :)
AND -- the icing on the cake -- I'm meeting up with two dear artist friends, one is flying in from Moose Jaw, Canada (and originally from South Africa) and the other is ferrying in from Staten Island. It's our first time all together in the same place. I can't wait.
So of course I am bringing a sketchbook to fill! (and a spare, just in case there's a lot to draw)

If you want to see earlier sketches of New York City, go to my website and click on sketches at the bottom of the first page. It'll take you to a page with lots of sketchbooks, 3 from SCBWI conferences in NYC.

Doodling proves useful -- big surprise?

2009-04-02T19:04:00.005-04:00

This article gives the details on a February 28 report in Applied Cognitive Psychology about a study on the value of doodling: Test subjects given a doodling task while listening to a dull phone message had improved recall over non-doodling subjects -- and we're talking about a 29% improvement.
Doodle! It makes you retain information better! (I knew it all along)
I loved the teachers in my high school who understood that doodling helped my retention of information. They let me doodle during class and I was grateful -- it was a big motivator for me, to get even more work done.
I let kids doodle during my author presentations. After almost every session, there are a few kids who run up to show me how they've covered nearly every inch of the paper. Invariably, they're expanding on something I said -- and it doesn't appear at all to me that they're drawing instead of listening.
They're drawing while listening.
Like I do.
Kids are so smart -- they're learning early what it took me years to figure out (and what it took science decades more to prove).

March is Reading Month 2009

2009-03-30T13:24:00.006-04:00

This month I signed (and added a sketch or two to) more than 1000 books. Final count is about 1345. In one month. Wow!

By tomorrow, my last school event in March,
I will have visited 23 schools: St. Clare of Montefalco in Grosse Pointe Park; Cedar Street Elementary, Steele St. Elementary, and North Aurelius Elementary in Mason; Flanders, Beechview, William Grace, Lanigan, Highmeadow, Forest, Kenbrook, Wood Creek, Gill, Hillside, Wooddale, Longacre and Eagle in Farmington; Bath Elementary in Bath; Madison Elementary in Dearborn Heights; Wexford, Forest View and Willow in Lansing; and, tomorrow, Cherry Creek Elementary in Lowell.
Plus 1 conference (MRA in Grand Rapids), 1 library (Farmington Public Library), and 1 bookstore (Barnes & Noble in East Lansing).
I made connections with many wonderful librarians and teachers and a few booksellers.

I am especially grateful to Sue Kalisky of Highmeadow and Lisa Salowich of Wooddale for sharing their room at the Amway Grand Plaza with me. We met in Farmington and they offered to hang out at the MRA. We enjoyed a delightful dinner at a Tapas Restaurant (my first -- can't wait to return!) and an enlightening visit to the new Grand Rapids Art Museum. It would have been difficult to present at the MRA without staying overnight. How kind of them to invite me in.

Nancy Morris of William Grace also extended a kind invitation to tour a little in Portland, Oregon, when I am there for a writer retreat in July-August. I can't wait.

Many thanks to the schools who hosted me. What a fabulous month this has been. Thank you to the students and staff who were so kind to me in my visits, and to the tireless organizers of all the events. I know it's tough bringing in an author for a visit; there's a lot to manage.

I am still smiling about all the fantastic student work in the various schools, the art on the walls, the writing exercises, the creativity shown by both teachers and students. I'm astounded at the brilliance I saw in so many schools.

Special thanks to Denise Gundle-White at Wood Creek for organizing all of my Farmington events as part of their Book Parade.

(Want to host me at your school or library? Details here on my website: http://ruthexpress.com/art/ellie/schoolvisits.html )

On a more personal front, this month I also juggled 2 bridal showers for my beautiful and fun future daughter-in-law, 1 dress fitting for our junior bridesmaid, thankfully no funerals in March (3 in Jan-Feb), helped paint the dining room, hallway and living room, helped my husband through the loss of his job and hopefully gaining of a new one (crossing fingers) and also through the loss of our car, rental of a new one, and -- maybe today -- purchase of a replacement, read my writing buddy Amy Huntley's fantastic new book, The Everafter (I laughed, I cried; I was greatly impressed with the emotion, the voice and the structure), and I wrote and drew a few "Extras" for the Ellie McDoodle: New Kid in School paperback edition which comes out this summer. (And, if you saw any of my presentations this month, you know I also had to do revisions for those "Extras")

Soon to come, more revisions! Yippee! This time for the third Ellie book, Ellie McDoodle: Best Friends Fur-Ever, the first draft of which I finished in record time, right before March began.

My editor's sending me the revisions letter (and if you saw any of my presentations you know that's a thick dark line listing more than 100 items to change) sometime in the next few days.
And if you saw my presentation you know there will be another revisions letter, too, hopefully smaller, arriving in the coming weeks, after I make all the requested changes and redraw every single page for this set of revisions.
And if I am lucky, then the book will be done and it will go to prepress sometime this summer for publication next summer.
It takes a long time and a lot of hard work to create a book.
And to live life which, no matter how tightly I plan it, is always bringing something unforeseen.

Whew.

So why do I do this?
Because I am in love with my job. And with my life.

(from my 2006 NYC sketchbook just after meeting my editor and many of the brilliant people associated with creating the Ellie McDoodle books)

New! The wireless interface for reading!

2009-03-17T14:57:00.004-04:00

Check out the above comic by Penny Arcade here:
http://penny-arcade.com/comic/2009/3/9/

It's all about a new wireless platform for readers.
Can't wait to see more of these in stores and libraries! ;)

Lots of great news - Beverly Cleary Award nomination!

2009-03-16T15:41:00.011-04:00

Ellie McDoodle is nominated for the Beverly Cleary Children's Choice Award for 2010! I am thrilled. There are only 6 nominees. One is my friend Katie Speck. It's an honor just to be nominated (but I hope I win).

(this true cartoon of my son shows why I don't tell kids they can grow up to be anything they want, if they just try hard enough)

Ellie McDoodle is mentioned very favorably in an article in Publishers Weekly about a new trend in children's illustrated books. A few books are mentioned as derivative (I can imagine that's a painful label) and I was glad to see Ellie grouped with The Princess Diaries as books that break new ground.

The third book is being created right now! I sent the first draft to my editor on Feb 27 (met the deadline! Woo hoo!) and the revisions letter should arrive at my house sometime in the next few days. I'll have just a few weeks to redraw everything, then will send it back to her, and I'll have a week or two off while my editor considers all the changes. She'll write another revisions letter, I'll do my best to improve everything, and the final art/text deadline is June 1. It'll be a busy spring.

I'm doing a LOT of school visits these days. In March alone, I visited so far:
- 17 schools (Grosse Pointe, Mason, Farmington)
- 1 library (Farmington)
- 1 MRA conference (Michigan Reading Assoc)
- 1 unofficial library visit (Harper Woods) and that's only the first two weeks of March!
I still have a few author visits every week for the next few weeks (Bath, Dearborn Heights, East Lansing, Lansing, Lowell, to start).
Life's busy. I'm happy. I LOVE presenting to audiences about the Ellie McDoodle books.
If you'd like to book me for a visit (hurry before my low, low rates go up in the autumn), go to my website, go to the For Teachers page, and all the information is there.
I still have a couple days open this month if you'd like something now.
Otherwise, I am booking now for summer and the next school year.
It's never too early to book a day/week with me, and you might find you're saving a bit by locking in my current rates now.

I sketched lots of teachers, librarians and authors at the Michigan Reading Association Conference at the Amway Grand Hotel in Grand Rapids, Michigan, this weekend. Watch for pages uploaded here soon. Presenting was great fun! I had lots of handouts made specially for my sessions. They went fast -- I'll upload copies to my website soon, for use in your schools.

As we come up on another spring - finally! -- I encourage everyone to find a child and give him/her a journal. It could be a folded piece of paper. It could be a bound one from a bookstore. It could have lines or blank pages, fancy or plain, expensive or cheap. Your choice. Just encourage a kid to journal. It makes kids into better writers. And encourage them to draw, too -- because studies in Art Literacy show that when kids create art it makes them better writers as well! Weird sort of confluence of talent, don't you think?
I'm pushing my 11 year old daughter to journal more.
My teacher was the first person to give me a journal and encourage me in such a way that it stuck. I was 15, and have kept a sketch journal ever since. I have sketch journals from trips, births, funerals, weddings, field trips, daily life... hundreds at my house. (My daughter and her fiance are building bookcases at my house this week -- yippee!!!!! -- to accommodate all the books and sketchjournals here) Keeping a sketchjournal helped me through many tough times in my life and it grounded me during the happy times.
Encourage a kid near you -- that kid might grow up to thank you in front of large crowds at conferences... as I did this weekend.
Aside to the wonderful Elizabeth McCarthy, art teacher at Harper Woods Secondary School when I was 15 in 1974: I will always revere you. Thank you for singling out this miserable teen and giving me a lifeline in the form of a sketchjournal, a tool that still helps, 35 years later.

If anyone can help me sniff out Mrs. McCarthy's location, let me know!

By the way, I am a multiple-award-winning writer and illustrator. I am America's Most-Harried Home Cook, Dr. Mom, Kudos Working Mother of the Year, Suave's Family Manager of the Year, and several other honorary titles.
You can just call me your pal, though. ;)
And now, back to work for me!

Charity begins ad hoc

2009-01-19T13:57:00.005-05:00

(I'd say charity begins ad hom, and I'd argue it's accurate, but since ad hominem is commonly used for negative, it's better to avoid it here)

My friend Peter Davis wrote this brilliant poem about Neanderthal charity.

My friend Shutta Crum started a wave of charitable contributions by writers for writers, when she offered, in the spirit of Martin Luther King, Jr., Day, to critique three manuscripts for free, and challenged other writers to make a similar contribution to the greater good of our readers.
Quite a few did!
Michigan's SCBWI email group was awash in offers of all kinds -- rhyming picturebook help from Debbie Diesen, magazine/internet help from Patti Richards, non-fiction help from Buffy Silverman, picturebook help from Boni Ashburn, school visit or independent publishing advice from Kevin Kammeraad, novel chapters and query letters crits from Kristin Nitz ... it's heartwarming.
Congratulations to those lucky writers who won the crits, and thank you to the generous writers who offered them.
I hope Shutta's idea spreads beyond Michigan.

Our daughter gave us some Italian cauliflower yesterday. It's the weirdest plant I've seen in ages. This link takes you to the Park Seeds catalog image. It tastes like soft broccoli. I hope Park Seeds will be charitable about letting me post the pic here.
I'd draw it but I'm supposed to be writing a book right now, and that's a pretty complex floret...

Back to work. <3

Stuff I otter do...

2009-01-01T03:04:00.005-05:00

<- my otter. Maybe he needs his own book to star in...

In the old days we illustrators kept clip files or morgues of photos and illustrations of random things to refer to later, and to draw from.
It's hard imagining what a $100 bill looks like when you're on a tight deadline at the newspaper and none of the account executives have anything bigger than a $20 on them; dig through the clip file and it's there.
I had dozens of pictures of money -- and five file drawers stuffed full of other images on a hundred topics.
Nowadays I just search online for help with what I'm imagining in my head. Combine a bobcat, a snow leopard and a person for a caricature? No problem: Google Images has changed the way I live.
I've dismantled part of the morgue; it's hard to get rid of all of it, but it's been years since I used any of it.
I otter just get rid of all the files, to make room for more books...

That's my biggest vice. I can go without food or new clothes. I can't go without books. And it's not just me -- my husband and kids are all voracious readers.
Our books are all over the house, disorganized and sometimes hard to find. We have a few hundred in each of the kids' rooms, a few thousand in the basement, a zillion in the living room, and who knows how many in my studio.
My daughter's middle school had a used book sale in November, and she got a prize for donating the second largest number, 500, and we bought and brought home almost as many from the sale...
I otter get some shelves. Floor to ceiling.

The book depository here (Sarah Sullivan's at Through the Tollbooth) is what I crave for my collection.
My pal Debbie Diesen has a wall like that at her house, too.
I otter write something compelling so I can make enough $$ to hire someone to build that kind of shelf wall for me (because I'm no carpenter).
So that's it. My 2009 Resolution is not to eat less or exercise more (those are mandates, not mere goals): It's to write lots of compelling stuff. Compelling = a good hook.
Back to work... :)

A fairy good start to 2009 ;)

2009-01-01T01:37:00.006-05:00

Happy New Year!
This pin's from at least 15 years ago. I drew it for my grandpa, along with 11 others, representing the months of the year. When he died, the family returned to me all the drawings and cartoons and pins I'd sent him over the years. Someday I'll compile it all into a book.
If you'd like to make buttons for your grandpa, check out this cool site. It's where I bought my button maker 25 years ago.

^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v
Look what I got from Rebecca Thornburgh: A fairy name!
According to the fairy site:
My fairy is called Fire Saturnfilter
She is a trouble maker.
She lives where fireflies mate and breed.
She is only seen on midsummer's eve.
Her dresses glow with fiery colours.
She has delicate pale pink wings like a cicada.

Ah, yes, a troublemaker -- that and the fireflies part are true to life. ;)
Here's what my fairy really looks like, if you ask me...(I drew this a few years ago as part of an illustrator group exercise)

^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v
I like Thornburgh's art.
For one thing, not many people have the guts to sketch in church. I always do, and now I see she draws in church too.
But I also like her warm, whimsical painting style. Check it out here. (She's even illustrated a few witch family books -- the thing I most wanted to do in the future, when I was a little kid)

Cheezers! Ellie McDoodle has flair!

2008-11-23T05:04:00.004-05:00

Here's a bit of Ellie McDoodle flair, available on Facebook:
Just search for Ellie McDoodle. Or scroll through the books category.
And -- there's more to come! (To me this is big-time excitement)

The pin shows Ellie drawing in her sketchjournal (direct from the cover of book 2) and has the word Cheezers! at her shoulder.
Cheezers is a purely-Ellie word. Nobody else uses it and you won't find it in the dictionary. It's a term of surprise, exasperation or dismay.

And what is flair? It's the goofy pins and ribbons the restaurant staff had to wear in the quirky movie, Office Space.
I can relate; I worked at Burger Chef when I was 16 and we sometimes had to wear flair, though it wasn't called that. There was a pin nametag and a pin for the Mariner, a fish dinner. And the hostess -- the plum position every girl wanted; it required no work, just smiles, and you didn't have to wear a hairnet -- got to wear a cool boating hat.
Working for Burger Chef was okay, but it convinced me I didn't want to go into food service as a career. I'm much happier creating kids' books.

Legacy of love

2008-11-18T13:25:00.011-05:00

In researching what I hope is the next Ellie McDoodle book, I've found tidbits of information that relate to some of the characters. One is this: Some animals live a very long time in captivity. An iguana in Aruba is 41 years old. Blue and Yellow Macaws live to be about 80.
These are people years, not dog years.
This struck me: What sane person would willingly take on an obligation that will last most of his/her life, nurturing a little creature that is totally dependent for food, love and socialization, even knowing the little creature would outlive the owner? How would you plan for its safety after you die?

Who takes over? It reminded me of something that happened 17 years ago: An elderly neighbor lamented to me that she worried not about her own future, but about her little dog. Who would take care of him when she was gone? Would they even find her dog in time to help it, if she keeled over and died at her house, alone? In my youthful idealism, I assured her we'd check on the dog and make sure he found a good home. Two years later we moved away. I sometimes wonder about that dog. I prefer to believe that, since they lived in the townhouses with lots of neighbors very close by, someone noticed when the woman died and someone took in the dog.

My own family adopted a dog after its owner died. It was not an easy adjustment but we figured it was the right thing to do.
So, who would knowingly acquire a pet that will long outlive them?
For that matter, who would lay the first brick in a cathedral, or set in a trust the first dollar for a benevolent foundation, or embark on a painting career in their 80s, knowing they wouldn't be around to see how it all turned out?
And then I thought, it gets even more mundane. Each of us who is a parent has done exactly that, as has every person in history: We start something hoping it's of sufficient value that the next generation will see it through.
We prepare for the future on faith.
I used to worry that the end of the Mayan calendar in 2012 meant the end of the world as well. My husband says maybe it only means the end of Mayan civilization: Maybe an archeological dig will unearth the last of the Mayan culture at that time. Maybe an earthquake will reveal the last lost burial grounds of the Mayan and we might even find we have more in common with them than we thought (calendar aside).
Maybe we'll look back in 2016 and laugh, the same way we laugh at Y2k hysteria.
If people are still having babies and buying Macaws in 2011, that'll be a nice show of faith. :)
As for me, I'll keep building toward a future I won't live to see. I'll keep creating books for generations that don't exist yet -- and I'll somewhat reluctantly keep taking time away from creating books, to nurture the next two generations that do exist right now, my kids and grandkids.
It'll probably always be a struggle to maintain balance, but somehow it'll pay off, eh?

Newborn baby sketches: A Moomaw's story

2008-10-13T11:24:00.008-04:00

We check in at the hospital at 8:30-ish in the morning on Friday. I'm thinking my daughter looks adorable in her fluffy robe and cute hairstyle. I'm wondering how long this labor will last. Figuring on about 3 hours.

They know the baby is a girl because Lisa had an ultrasound just a few days prior and it was definitive.

Lisa brought her laptop and I brought mine, thinking this will be a great way to keep the relatives and friends informed in the moment.
Unfortunately mine suffers a nervous breakdown rendering it useless.
Days later I call Dell and we reset the computer to the factory settings. Lucky for me I was able to save most of what I wanted to a dvd, so I didn't lose much.
The nurse sends us out walking.

We walk a lot. Matt leaves to run a few errands. Lisa and I keep walking.

The labyrinthian hallways are hard to figure out. I've delivered four of my kids at this hospital and now two grandkids, and every time I'm back, they've changed things around.
We read everything on the walls. I guess we're not walking so much as wasting time.
The gift shop has cute stuff. Among other things, I buy bubble gum cigars for the big brother and his best-friend cousin. We're having a baby soon!

We watch a bit of tv too. Contractions are steady. My pulse is racing. Surely it's only a few more hours until we hold this new kid.

Matt's ready. Lisa's ready. I'm ready. When's that baby getting here?!

Aww, Matt's so good to Lisa.
I make an eviction notice for Lisa's belly.

Aww, Matt's so attentive.
We've been here for about 16 hours at this point. I'm tired of hospital food. Baby's taking her own sweet time.

I brought lots of stuff with me: useless laptop, gifts, caffeine, sketchbook, and my latest book project. I get nothing at all done on the book project.

Wheeling Lisa into the delivery room I tell her, "This is where your baby will take her first breaths!"

In the waiting room, the relatives are having a party. In the labor and delivery room, Matt and I are alternating between delirium from lack of sleep and hyperventilation from helping Lisa breathe during contractions.
Finally the baby takes us seriously and shows up for her own welcoming party. 4:16am Saturday. It's a girl! Isabel Marie. 7 lbs and 6.8 oz. Funny how precise they can get. The length is 20 inches -- they think. They can't be precise about that because newborns are so curly.

The nurse inks the baby's feet and stamps her birth certificate, and she stamps my sketchbook as well. I'm in awe.

Right before the baby is born, I am bawling like a baby myself. Wahhhhh! Oh, Lisa! She's almost here! Push! She's almost here! Your baby is almost here! Push! Oh Lisa! Wahhhhhh!

And after she's born I describe her to Lisa: She's beautiful. She's perfect. She has big eyes and black hair and delicate fingers. The doctor repeats "delicate fingers."

Her fingers are long. She'll be good at playing piano and billiards.

She's fine in this sketch, but she was born crying. I guess Isabel and I are both emotional over this birthing thing.
For her, it pinked up her skin fast. She's beautiful.
For me, it just made me look a little older than I am. I see the photos later. I look like it's been a long night. Funny thing is, I take pride in that. Tonight was about helping Isabel come into the world, and that's what we did.

Lisa and her new baby.

Matt joins the picture.
I get to hold her too. Lisa tells Isabel I am Moomaw. That's what Isabel's 5-year-old brother calls me. Moomaw. Cracks me up. He couldn't say Grandma when he was a toddler and so he invented Moomaw. He calls my husband Bumpa. My sister Peggy is Aunt Huggy.

I hang around for a few more sketches and to celebrate with the family. We all giggle about Isabel's long tongue which she keeps sticking out.
She's awake and alert and everything is joyous.
In a while, Bumpa and I head home for a few hours of sleep before I do my author presentation at the Capitol Area District Library, main branch. That goes well. :) In the evening I head back to the hospital.

I have about 50 sketches from the birth. Maybe more, plus lots of Isabel getting to know the world around her. (No photos, alas)
I'll upload more in the coming days.

I've sketched many funerals and weddings, but this is only my third birth. This sketchjournal will be a nice keepsake for Isabel some day.

Plenty to write about

2008-10-04T16:37:00.006-04:00

Friday: Funeral.
Friday-Saturday-Sunday: SCBWI Conference (wonderful)
Monday: Author visit, Holt-Delhi Public Library, art revisions
Tuesday: art revisions
Wednesday: art revisions
Thursday: Author visit, Girl Scouts of Lansing/Holt, art revisions
Friday: Hospital, help daughter deliver baby
Saturday: Hospital, finish helping deliver baby, Author visit, CADL, Main branch

Sunday: a day of rest? We'll see. I haven't looked at the revised art yet.

I have lots of sketchbook highlights of the hospital visit.
Here's one for now. Gotta get back to see the baby. :)

Darkness

2008-09-24T12:21:00.004-04:00

What? Two posts in one day?
I will be better eventually, but right now I am very sad. I want a fast track through the sadness. I don't want to deal with grief anymore. Grief and I are too well-acquainted.

I want to be one of those people who sees grief on a street and nods and keeps moving past it.

Instead I am one of those people who sees grief on the street, runs over to say hello, starts walking with it, even though it's taking me wayyy out of my planned route, and then I say yes to a cup of tea and we sit in a Victorian cafe and I get further engrossed and even though I want to leave, I can't.

And then grief asks me to come back to its apartment, just to check out, I don't know, its latest portfolio, or its music collection, or a memory book, or just to give me a heart stone it found, and so I go with grief and pretty soon I'm leading a double life, hanging out with grief in the daytime and then racing home to greet my kid from school, do the homework-dinner-tuck-into-bed thing, and then I run back to grief and spend the night with it.
Where, incidentally, I cannot sleep.
Sure, there's a pillow there, and nice blankets, but grief talks in its sleep or it stays up all night chatting like at a slumber party, or it haunts me with possibilities.
Then it wakes me up early and I have to run back home to get the kid up for school.
Yeah, I know grief.
I know it too well. "Hello darkness, my old friend." - Paul Simon

On the bright side, and thank goodness there is one, my painting is coming along well. I'm almost ready to submit this project I've been working on for ages.
Grief, come visit me later; I have work to do.

Larry Garth Bowen, 1943-2008

2008-09-24T08:04:00.006-04:00

My dear friend Larry Bowen passed away, unexpectedly. The funeral is on Friday. I found these four heart-shaped rocks on the walk back from the school bus stop this morning. If there's one thing that characterized Larry, it's heart.

(the dip in the middle isn't as evident here as it is in person)

Larry was one of those diamonds in the rough you hear about. A big, tough, burly guy with a heart of soft, mushy, compassion for anyone weaker, especially kids and animals.

I first met him when my then-youngest, Katie, was one week old. Larry's wife Sue worked at the same store as my husband, and they got to talking: "My wife's an artist." "Oh, really? My husband's looking for one for his silk screen business."
This led to our 17-year working relationship and a deep friendship.

Larry knew us probably better than anyone. He was there when Katie lost her first tooth. He said to her, "Wow, you're in luck! The tooth fairy gives $5 for the first tooth!" Katie was thrilled. (Normally the tooth fairy only gives a quarter for teeth, at our house) I shot Larry an annoyed look, and he laughed and laughed. Then he slipped me $5.

When our cat went crazy and bit Katie's face, because she was trying to catch him and put him back in the house (until that moment he'd been an inside cat), Larry was there. It bit him too, on the hand (rotten cat). They both needed stitches, but Larry was only worried about Katie, and he never gave us the hospital bill.

When Katie was in high school and needed a scientific calculator and we couldn't afford one, Larry loaned her his. It was stolen in school; those things cost more than $100. I was terribly upset. Larry said it was no big deal.

Whenever Larry visited, which was about two or three times a week, our miniature poodle, Willie, went nuts, jumping all over the couch, barking and wagging his whole body. Larry said Willie reminded him of his own miniature poodle, Frank, who died before Willie was born.
He told us Frank stories that we still bring up at odd times and laugh about, like Frank's embarrassment at getting a frou-frou dog haircut.
Whenever we needed someone to keep an eye on Willie for a few days when we went out of town, Larry volunteered.

One of my favorite photos which I sent to my son's new fiance last winter, to help her get to know the family, was of Larry posing with six-year-old Joey on Larry's big ol' honkin' motorcycle. Joe says the ride was fun at first, but it turned harrowing -- he thought when Larry turned onto a small cul de sac it was leading to the expressway, and Joe was screaming at Larry to not go on the expressway because it was too fast.
I remember Larry chuckling about it when he brought Joey back home (riding slowly). His grandsons all did motorcycle sports starting as preschoolers, but he never made my son feel inadequate for being afraid to go too fast.

Larry always had candy in his pocket or in the car, for my kids. In fact, it tickled him no end when Katie asked him for candy. I told her that was rude, and it was better to wait for candy to be offered, but he loved it and we decided the rules for Larry are different than for the rest of the world.

Our working relationship wasn't always a bed of roses; his pay scale was sometimes low, and sometimes I disliked the assignments. I dreamed of something bigger and he told me, "You and I will always be middle class," which I resented.
As the internet opened wider, there was more competition for lower-priced silkscreen work, but everyone around here knew Larry was the best.

His work ethic was top notch, his prints were the best in the business and his prices were reasonable. He was honest to the core, morally upright, and had integrity. Plus he was a lot of fun to talk to. We talked about everything under the sun. I knew his family intimately, from his stories, and he knew mine. He advised me on everything.
He gave it to you straight, no baloney, no fancy words. If he saw something that wasn't good for the kids, he told you (like when he overheard a friend say something inappropriate for kids, at a family party).

I stopped working with Larry a few years ago because I wanted to do kids' books, and he was passing his business down to his son. We no longer saw each other often, but I still visited the same CPA Larry set me up with 19 years ago, still joked with my family about Frank, and kept telling myself I should stop by Larry's house and see how he and Sue were doing.

When our oldest wanted t-shirts for her fiance's business a few months ago, she wanted Larry to print them, and my husband and I jumped at the chance to go with her. As a special treat for both, we brought Willie with us.
Larry and Sue sat on the porch with us for a long time, just like when Larry would come to my house and sit and talk for hours. We caught each other up on all the kids and grandkids, and Larry played with Willie. It was a great time.
I think I gave him a copy of my Ellie McDoodle book. I hope I did. I'm so grateful we went. So glad we renewed that friendship. I'm too good at letting friendships lapse because I'm distracted with other things (ADD curse).

Why was Larry such a good guy, when his exterior was so rough and tough?
During a terrible motorcycle accident that should have killed him, just a short time before I met him, he had an honest-to-goodness angel encounter.
It changed his life.
He carried everywhere the scars of that accident; his leg was swollen and infected for 20 years and no doctor was able to completely heal it. He also carried everywhere the magic healing of that accident. Because of Larry, I know angels are real.

When Sue called to say that Larry died, I went into shock. Numb, I phoned each of my oldest three kids. And then the tears came.
I hesitated to even tell my youngest; it was late at night and I thought she might not even remember Larry. She said, "Oh, was he the Licorice Man?" Yes, Larry was the Licorice Man.
I have a million stories about Larry, a million funny memories, but that sums it up as well as anything: He was sweet and good.

The world is a better place for Larry's having been here, and I am diminished by his loss. :(

More heart-shaped found objects on my website, here.

4:24am: Do you know where your pillow is?

2008-08-25T04:24:00.006-04:00

When I was a kid, our Detroit NBC tv station (or was it CBS?) used to announce at 10 every evening: "It's 10 o'clock; do you know where your children are?"
I found it amusing. Where else would kids be but in the living room fighting the directive to go to bed, or in the bedroom already snoozing?
Even more amusing was the spin given to the by-then-well-known announcement, a few years later: "It's 10 o'clock; do you know where your parents are?"

So it's almost dawn. I'm up way past my bedtime. I blame the kids.1. Oldest daughter had a baby shower today, plus she moved to a new apartment. I know -- that's a lot for one day. It's crazy. All it does is make me feel old.2. Second kid's fiance' hosted the baby shower party, so I had to help out. (It was very kind and generous of her)3. Third kid needed to be driven to college (3 hours round trip) after the party. And before that, she needed groceries because she's having trouble getting a student loan to pay for classes and a meal plan. I have no idea what's going to happen, but as a show of support I bought her lots of peanut butter, tuna fish, oatmeal, cherries, broccoli and chicken. Real food. (real expensive food)
On the way home from the other end of the state, I consumed mass quantities of caffeine just to stay awake.4. Fourth kid was entirely reasonable and unhormonal. I guess I only blame some of the kids.

Upon getting home from college, wide awake, I checked the computer. It was stuck in an almost-turned-off mode. Scary. An automatic update didn't quite update, and my computer insisted the date was Feb 24, 2004 and the time was 11:34pm. I was sent back in time 4 years, 6 months, 4 hours and 10 minutes.
I thought about staying there, because it'd make me a bit younger (more energetic?), but 02-24-04 was a whole year before I signed with my agent, a whole year before I finally got a great, marketable idea for a book (Ellie McDoodle) and a whole year before that fateful first trip to NYC with a sketchbook in hand.
I prefer what I've got right here, right now.

Ellie McDoodle on the web

2008-08-22T16:44:00.003-04:00

This is so cool, finding Ellie McDoodle in unexpected places.
Do you subscribe to Google Alerts in your name, and your book's name?
If so, you get surprised with occasional references to your work, like I was with this Detroit News article about kids' lit, mentioning both Ellie books.
If you're not yet a fan of Google Alerts, you will be.
(more hearts here)

Childhood aspirations

2008-08-14T23:46:00.005-04:00

All this time I thought when I was a little kid I wanted to draw for a living when I grew up (I also remember wanting to be a teacher, a lawyer or an embryologist). See, when you get a book published, people ask what you were like as a kid, and what you aspired to, growing up.
You get all introspective about it, and try to remember.
And what I'd remembered was that, as far back as my brain would cooperate, I was a good writer and a good artist, but writing was my mother's forte and, being territorial, I figured I couldn't write. And so I drew.But my dear friend April just described her work-in-progress and it jolted my brain and suddenly I remembered something wonderful: When I was 7 or 8 I read Eleanor Estes' The Witch Family which I looooved. I read it a zillion times. I remember loving it so much I drew and wrote new scenarios for the witch girls. I longed to write and illustrate a real, published story about little witch girls at school and at home. I knew I couldn't do justice to the idea as a kid. I knew I'd have to become a grownup first.
Incidentally, The Witch Family was nothing like Harry Potter. It was for younger kids, and it had an entirely different sensibility.
Funny that I forgot it all these years.
Funny to suddenly remember why I've liked the name Clarissa all these years, and why bumblebees have never scared me, even though I was stung between the toes when I was 9.
And funny to know now, with absolute certainty, that at age 8 I wanted to grow up and write and illustrate kids' stories for a living.

Of two minds (or maybe it's three)

2008-07-24T13:28:00.006-04:00

I sometimes wonder if I have multiple personality issues because on most things I am of at least two minds.Right now I'm happy to be writing this blog piece, here at the computer, but there's a nagging sense I ought to be in the dining room, writing more on my new story idea. When I get back to that, I will become the character, a 5-year-old boy who probably has A.D.D.
When I take a break from that story and turn to the sketch-diary work-in-progress, I'll become a 15-year-old adventurer. And then the next Ellie McDoodle book will beckon and I'll become a 12-year-old girl with all the inner-battling angst and confidence of adolescence. Then I'll bounce over to Marcella, a 6-year-old creative problem-solver. But even while I become those personalities, I still apparently nurture the nasty inner critic who tears apart everything I do. I don't mean to keep feeding her. I'd like for her to waste away, or pack up and visit someone else for a while. Alas, she thrives in my head and has no reason to move on. Actually, I suspect she's been busy reproducing because I hear other negative voices as well.All these characters, mischievous and virtuous, disparaging and uplifting, live simultaneously in my head.
Sometimes they all yell at me at the same time.Sometimes they yell at me at the same time that someone in my real-life family is yelling at me -- and usually the family member is the sort who thinks real-life people deserve priority attention.
It's not always a bad thing to have all these various brains inside me. It's often helpful, like when I am about to start an author presentation at a bookstore. I get butterflies almost to the point of nausea, in advance. Eventually one of the rational brains steps forward and takes control, assuring the others that I've done these visits many dozens of times, I can handle whatever comes up, and in the end the visit will work out well. Usually the other brains settle down and let that brain continue to distract me for the next few hours.Then when the visit is over, the other brains jump back in, bouncing up and down in my head (nausea returns) and I get the urge to run or turn backflips.
I've never in my life done a backflip; I'm sure I wouldn't survive it.
Thankfully, the Zen brain takes over and drives me quietly and calmly back to my home, by which time the backflippers are asleep from the white noise of the highway.
Maybe it's normal to have lots of competing brains inside you, if you're creative. But maybe it's what drove artists and writers insane, throughout history. For my own safety, I'm telling the voices they can stay; what I don't need right now is a full-head mutiny.I have to go. The 5-year-old in my head just woke up and is ready to tell his story.

Does life ever slow down?

2008-07-05T12:52:00.008-04:00

Does life ever slow down? And would I want it to? No, and no, I guess.

(from an Attwood Elementary School Field Day 2008 sign; this year's theme was Ellie McDoodle! Last year's was Dr. Suess)

Ellie 2 is out! Ellie McDoodle: New Kid in School is on bookstore and library shelves right NOW. Buy it! Borrow it! Read it!

I think it's a better book than the first. The first reviews are in, and they agree. It's the best I could make it... which means there's plenty of room for improvement. ;)

The book launch party at Schuler Books in Eastwood Towne Center last weekend went FANTASTIC. We had more people than chairs -- I was truly heartened (and surprised -- expected about 3 people there, and even told Jim at Schulers to only set up 3 chairs. He laughed and set up 40). My friend Lori reports on the event here.

Ellie and Er-ick play tug-o-war on a sign at the Attwood Field Day

I'm working on a few other book projects right now. When my wonderful-beautiful-brilliant (honestly, she is all that) editor says those magic words, "What do you have for the next Ellie book?" I'll be ready. In the meantime, I'm working on a book for older kids and a book for younger kids.

I've done a zillion sketches this summer, but haven't scanned many in because I've been too busy with other obligations.
Here are two sketches from my cousin's Ordination as a Priest, in May.

It was a fascinating ceremony, held in downtown Detroit at a lovely cathedral. Here's Father Charles, no longer Chuck:

Our car is in the shop, the first loaner car died (same problem as our car, ironically), and now the second loaner car is dead. I'm distressed; I missed a crit group meeting this morning and will probably miss my friend's birthday party this afternoon.

Crying doesn't help, so I'm writing (working on a book about a kid in NYC).

And, when I need a break, I pull pranks on my kid.

I'm laughing at the moment, because she just walked into my studio dressed like me! And talking like me! And it's hysterical.

Got time on your hands because your car isn't working?

Read this: Debbie Diesen's blog

Her book just went into a second printing -- and it's only been out a couple months.

And read this: Ann Finkelstein's blog.

And this one: Lori Van Hoesen's blog.

And check out this site: http://runamokink.com/ That's April.

These are all brilliant writers in my crit group. (Tim, Amy and Kay don't have blogs yet)

I love them so much I put their pictures in my second Ellie book. Page 7.

ICL chat with Harold Underdown

2008-05-15T12:25:00.007-04:00

Harold Underdown will be guest speaker with reknowned interviewer Jan Fields at The Institute of Children's Literature for an online chat called "Down the Publishing Path" on Thur. May 22 from 8-10 p.m. Eastern.
Go here to join in the chat or to find out more info: chat page.
Email any advance questions for Harold to WebEditor@institutechildrenslit.com.
The 3rd edition of Harold's book, The Complete Idiot's Guide to Publishing Children's Books comes out this month.
I recommend this book everywhere to new writers; I think it's the most useful publication for beginners on how to write books for kids. It's helpful for non-beginners, as well.
I've bought a few copies of it. Mine keep going out on loan.
And -- Harold's an awfully nice guy, very helpful with advice. I've "known" him online for more than a few years in a few writer communities (he's one of those kindly-instructor types: Patient, helpful, never pompous or overbearing), and I remember how excited everyone got when he announced he was writing this book. We all knew this book was desperately needed by the new writer community.

Go to Harold's Purple Crayon website for more detailed info on his book and also for up-to-date information on the children's books publishing industry.

Interested in finding out more about kids' books writing? Check out the amazingly overflowing ICL chat transcripts from years of interviews with experts and experienced writers: Very useful stuff here.

And, check out the transcript from my chat with ICL, about humor, here: Humor in kids' books. It's humorous but informative.

Working on my studio

2008-05-13T16:29:00.003-04:00

The current problem: The studio's too small, too cluttered, and too disorganized.
The plan: Reorganize it. I have two days to make it work, before I need to return to the various works in progress.
The process: Write out my "Wish List," all those things I really want the studio to provide, accommodate, and be. Then figure out what needs to be where. Then move everything into place.
The obstacles: A million other projects, the voice in my head that says to work on something more concrete, limited time, tight finances, tendonitis, Snood.
The rewards: Substantial. No more embarrassment about how the studio looks. And a return to those distant happy days when I loved my studio and found it easy to do any kind of work in it.
The progress: To be announced.

Catching up

2008-05-13T03:19:00.008-04:00

I've been working on a new book, and lots of author presentations, and trying to keep up with my kids' busy schedules.
The end of the school year is always so crazy...
Next week I'm off to camp with the fourth graders. I don't expect it to be a vacation. (I'll post the sketches)
Here are a couple from last year's camping trip:

That's me in the bottom right corner, completely exhausted from hiking in the dunes.
Unfortunately I am not in much better shape this year.

Oh, this is too funny. See the date on that last sketch? 2005? It should have been 2007. I guess I really was tired! Funny that nobody apparently noticed. These sketch composites were copied and distributed to the kids who went.

Other Kid Stuff:
My 10-year-old won a local school district writing/illustrating contest. I took a hands-off approach to her entry, because I didn't want to use unfair influence. Besides, she didn't want me involved. She barely let me read her entry.
I'm so proud of her, and how much work she put into her book! She tells me she wants to be a singer when she grows up, but I know her real aptitude is for writing and illustrating. I'm trying to let her discover that for herself.

Tonight my son's fiancee showed me her wedding gown. I'd post pics here (I sketched it and also took photos) but I'm supposed to keep it a secret from him. I won't jinx their happy life, so I'll just say this: It's beautiful. So is she.

My oldest daughter is having a baby in Sept/October, and we've found out it's a girl. Her 5-year-old son is nonchalant. He was hoping for both a boy and a girl, both -- so they could play with each other and leave him alone.
He has a funny sense of humor. He told his teacher he wanted to change his name to Tylenol. He doesn't even know what Tylenol is. I guess he just likes how it sounds.

My middle daughter is home from college. It's fun having her around. She heads back in a month for summer classes. She's hoping to buy an old car, soon, so I don't have to keep driving her. If you have a lead on a cheap car, let me know.

For Mother's Day two of my kids (the middle ones) wrote long letters that made me cry. (Joy, not pain) And the youngest wrote a lovely song which she sang and played many times on her cornet for me. She also gave me a long list of coupons (backrub, clean house, mom/daughter time, all sorts of goodies!). And she made me a beaded bracelet. My oldest bought a game for us all to play on Family Night, and she brought a balloon that plays You Are My Sunshine (amazing what balloons can do, nowadays). That was our song back when she was 2. My son gave me a new digital camera -- I accidentally broke the LCD screen on my fancy camera last month, to my great distress. My future daughter-in-law gave me a necklace. They all took me out to dinner -- Chinese, our favorite.
I am sure I have the best kids in the world, but I'll try not to brag, because it will only make you want to borrow them, and I like having them here.

Author Stuff:
I've done some fun school visits this spring. Elms Road Elementary in Swartz Creek, near Flint, sold 155 copies of Ellie McDoodle! Amazing!! After signing, my hand hurt for a week.

My work-in-progress is officially submitted and looking for a home. It's hard to type with fingers crossed.

My critique group writer friends and I have begun a group blog, here. Most of them have separate blogs also, and they're very entertaining.

More later. Off to bed...

Ellie McDoodle: New Kid on the web

2008-02-29T02:03:00.006-05:00

This is so cool. One of my dear writer friends is new to blogging and her first post is a review of my second book, Ellie McDoodle: New Kid in School. And it's a well-written review. She happens to like New Kid in School -- which is nice -- but I especially like how she wrote the review. You can tell she's a writer.
I love it when I read something that's so well-written it makes me wish I'd written it.

And, I have to say, it's very nice hearing an opinion on the second book.

I worked in a vacuum for so long, tweaking the book and trying to make it better than the first, and all this time I've been craving feedback. Something other than my editor's comments.
Not that I discount my editor's words - far from it - but she's working on the book, not just reading it for pleasure.
I wanted to hear from a reader. Someone who isn't looking for typos, art snags, or a better way to convey a scene. Now I have, and I am happy.
And, incidentally, this lady is in the book, on page 7, with the rest of my wonderfully amazingly talented and skilled critique group.*

The final copyedits went to press just a couple days ago.
I'm done. The book is done. For better or for worse, it's done.
So now I'm working on the next book. :)
And I just finished my taxes, my kid's FAFSA, the flu, Family Night, some heavy-duty March is Reading Month author visit planning, and I put in some quality time as a parent. That last bit is not to be underestimated. I'm not yet allowed to announce the life changes affecting a few of my kids, but lets just say it's all happy and it doesn't get any bigger.
So now I finally have a window of opportunity to upload the SCBWI Conference sketches from two weeks ago.
That'll be a huge job, but not as big as some of this other stuff has been.
Ahh, life is good.

*except one whom I love dearly, who moved to another state. I felt there were too many people on page 7 and it started to look self-indulgent and I hate that in books and comics, so I pulled her out and put her name on page 10 instead. I'll probably always beat myself up about that. Would one extra person on the page really have been too much? O, the incessant self-analysis. It's proof I am alive. I breathe, therefore I analyze. Anyway, maybe I'll draw her into the next book...

Five Random Things About Me

2008-02-22T02:11:00.003-05:00

Fiona Bayrock tagged me to play this game.
Here are 5 random things about me:

1. I'm a pretty good harmonica player.

2. Most of my best friends have died young.

3. I collect cool containers, almost obsessively.

4. I have A.D.D. and it's sometimes a pain to deal with. Oh, look! A chicken!

5. I roll little pieces of Kleenex between my fingers to make tiny balls. I'm compulsive about this -- have been since I was 4. I always figured I was the only person in the world who did it... until my grandson was born. He does it too.

I tag these 5 people: Barb Johansen Newman, Elizabeth Dulemba, Kim Norman, Karen Lee, and Sherry Rogers.