Travel Travails

Three weeks ago my dear friend Kirsten Cappy came to Michigan to interview Badge Velasquez and a few other guys from Bikers For Books, a charity promoting literacy for the youth in my area.

Charlie and I saw her at the Bikers For Books Rally on Sept. 10, and then again the next day at the Kerrytown BookFest in Ann Arbor.

Thank you to Bookbound for selling my books at the Kerrytown BookFest!

Charlie and I had dinner that second day with Kirsten Cappy, Matt Faulkner, Kris Remenar, Nancy Shaw, Pamela Patterson, Denise Fleming and husband David Powers and daughter Indigo Powers,

Also at the BookFest: Kelly DiPucchio, Shanda Trent, Heidi Woodward Sheffield, Nick and Ashley Adkins, Isabel O'Hagin, and wonderful SCBWI-Michigan webmaster and brilliant Austin-to-Ann Arbor transplant Debbie Gonzales,
I'm probably forgetting a few writers and illustrators. If that sounds like a lot of name-dropping, it is because they're smart creatives and I feel lucky to know them all.

At the end of the BookFest we walked Kirsten back to her car. 

She was on time to get to the airport, but she reported that her photographer friend Fred had not telescoped the camera tripod for air travel before he left, and she couldn't get that last leg to fold down on her own. 

She went through TSA with that very suspicious-looking tripod, but first endured extra searches and pat-downs and scrutiny. 

Now late for her flight, she ran through the airport with her unfolded tripod, to the obvious shock and dismay of many of the travelers.

As she related the story to me the next day I couldn't help but laugh... and draw it up for her.

This weird thing about time racing past

Chatting with a friend just now made me think: I am older than I expected to get. 
When I was a teen looking forward to the millennium change in 1999 I was disappointed that I'd be an old lady, barely able to enjoy it. The millennium change was 17 years ago. I enjoyed it JUST FINE. Ahem. 

What would my teen self think of me now? 
She wouldn't approve of my short hair or my body, but she'd like my studio and work. 
She'd want to be friends with my kids. 
She would think today's Charlie is a nice old guy, and the Charlie I fell in love with in 1980 was romantic. 
She'd like my dogs. 
She'd think it's weird that I eat vegetables for breakfast. 

She'd think it's cool but not groovy that I became friends with my siblings, 
that I have so many good friends in my life today, 
and that I'm this happy. 
All of this makes me plan what I'll be like in 2046. 
I'd better not disappoint me.

Have you entertained your 17 year old self lately? 
Or your 87 year old self?

This is a page from my sketch-journal when I was 17.

Meet Children's Books Author Audrey Vernick

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

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.

Ellie McDoodle, Wimpy Girl

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. :)

What's the best thing about being an author?

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?

Literary Pumpkins!

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!

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. :)

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

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)

Charity begins ad hoc

(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