Favorite Christmas Gifts

So, the shelves are all finished and the bookcases are done! I'm thrilled. It was a little hard trying to get this picture because today was an overcast, snowy day and the room is small so I had to stand in the closet to get back far enough to take the picture. The shelves are only half full at this point. I spent much of the rest of the day lugging books from the attic and organizing them. It's so nice to have everything in one place, though.

I have learned something today. Our next clean up project will be the attic. How did we ever accumulate so much junk?

Favorite Christmas Gifts

My youngest moved into his own place in September, leaving his bedroom vacant at last - the bedroom where he'd kept goldfish, played with Matchbox cars, built castles out of Legos and fashioned rockets from cardboard gift wrap tubes. It was both a sad and a happy time for me - sad because my youngest child had flown the coop and I knew I would miss him sorely but it was also a happy time because he'd found a good job and moved into his own place that he was paying for himself. After all, as parents that's what we strive for - to raise autonomous, responsible adults who will make a contribution to the world. My husband and I both knew it signaled the beginning of true adulthood and for that we are both proud and happy of both of our sons.

And so, we cleaned out Sean's room, painted it and my husband refinished the scuffed oak floors. I had plans for this space. I realized what I wanted more than anything was to have my books all in one place. Half of them are up in the attic in boxes or scattered among a variety of bookcases. I wanted them here in my office where I could at last organize them and have them within easy grasp. But, I had a problem. I only had one little wooden barrister's bookcase my mom had given me and it was already full. I needed bookshelves. In case you hadn't priced them lately, good bookshelves are pretty expensive and I sort of felt I was beyond the boards and bricks bookcases of my college years.

My husband, Dennis, is an artist with wood. He claims he's not but he really is. Last year he made us a bedroom set consisting of two dressers, a blanket chest and two night tables and now, these beautiful cherry bookcases with curly maple inlay. It took him a couple of months but they were certainly worth waiting for. And they are beautiful. It's one of the best presents anybody has ever given me. And I don't care what anybody says; homemade is the best!

Just as soon as the second case gets its second coat of varnish and the shelves are all in place, I will post a picture.

Steven Assael Documentary

I've been studying classical realism part time now for about 8 years. Frankly, I'm tired of hearing people say that realism is boring or doesn't take any imagination. Realism, for me at least, is about trying to capture the soul of your subject. It's about trying to capture the beauty of even the most simple and mundane things.

The human form is the most challenging of all. I've taken this past fall off but am going back to figure drawing again in January at LIAFA.

Recently artist Steven Assael came to LIAFA to do a portrait workshop. I wish I could have been there. I guess this video clip from CBS Sunday Morning is the next best thing. Anybody who thinks realism is boring should check this out. Even if you don't think it's boring, check it out. He's fantastic!

Good News!

I have some good news that I'm just dying to share but can't...not yet. Aaargh! Patience has never been one of my strengths so I've been trying to avoid blogging so I don't spill it. Have to wait until we get some confirmation. So, until then, I keep writing. Always prepare for the worst, I say.

Keeping my fingers and toes crossed.

Writing Conferences

I never used to believe that there was much to be gained from a writing conference that I couldn't learn by myself. But then I never believed in critique groups either. Now, of course, I know differently. A critique group in invaluable. I don't know how I ever wrote poetry without my poetry group and I lean heavily on my fiction writing group to point out my WIP's shortcomings.

I've learned that writing conferences are invaluable if for no other reason than to find fresh inspiration and new input into work you've stared at for hours on end and can no longer find anything wrong with or know what to do with. So, after swearing off any more writing conferences until I finish my WIP, I've been drooling over this one -- The Bear River Writers' Conference in northern Michigan. How I'd love to go! It's not a writing workshop for children's writers, although I suppose a YA novel might be perfectly acceptable.

For one, it's situated in a beautiful part of northern Michigan and secondly, they've assembled a great staff of workshop leaders. I know Keith Taylor from college. I took several fiction writing courses with him, taught by the late George Zorn (how I loved that man!). It was the only college course I ever took where people smoked in class (including me at the time). We used to pass the butt can around. Keith is now the director of the undergraduate creative writing program at the University of Michigan. He writes pretty amazing poetry, for you poetry lovers out there (but not poetry for kids).

My biggest problem is that the conference is so far away. I'd have to fly there, doubling my expenses. So, maybe. It's something to think about. Anybody attend any recent conferences that you found outstanding? If so, please share!

Jacqueline du Pre - Saint-saens Concerto in A minor

In stark contrast to the previous post, here's the late great Jacqueline Du Pre playing a small portion of Saint-saens' cello concerto in A minor - one of my favorite pieces. She plays it with such precision, passion and intensity it brings me to tears. My youngest, Sean, played this piece for NYSSMA one year before he injured his bowing hand. How I miss the cello's soulful song!

Muppets - Mahna Mahna

It's Friday and this is sort of how I'm feeling.

The Way Things Look

As my blood sugar has dropped, my vision has become blurry. The doctor said this is normal and to be patient because it will clear up in a few weeks. A few weeks! It's hard. So much of what I do and love to do hinges on being able to see clearly. I love to read (and read and read). I love to write. I love to draw and paint and do crossword puzzles. Now most of that is just about impossible. Even writing this is a challenge.

So, I've been taking walks with some running mixed in (good for my blood sugar), watching tv on the big screen and listening to music and the radio. I've lost about 10 pounds. It's hard to take in enough calories on this restrictive diet.

But, it could always be worse. And with stem cell research, perhaps the cure for diabetes is in the near future.

Five Things On a Friday

So, here it is, Halloween and I have just a few random things to share.

1. I am so tired of needles. I was recently diagnosed with diabetes. We're not sure what kind yet (more blood work is needed) but it is genetic. I am not overweight, I exercise, watch what I eat so how did I get this? Genetic predisposition, says my endocrinologist. My father had type 1 diabetes for over 40 years. But, as my doctor reminded me, this is not my father's diabetes and he thinks a cure is on the horizon. Once we get the Bush administration out of office, perhaps we can once again hope that stem cell research will receive funding.

2. Scientifically, the Bush administration has set this country back to the Dark Ages. Take The Creation Museum in Cincinatti or George Bush's disclaimer that global warming is all nonsense. I'm sure we must be the laughing stock of the civilized world when it comes to science.

3. My husband made gravestones out of leftover wood and set them up on our lawn. I don't like them, especially after my diabetes diagnosis. But hey, it's Halloween. Lighten up, Stella.

4. When you have diabetes, you feel guilty passing out candy to little kids.

5. I wish I could do NaNoWriMo but when you work 5 days a week, you don't have time. Anybody participating in this? I really wish I could. it would be a great way for me to force myself through to the end of my novel.

Have a good weekend everybody.

Books Clubs and Reading Quotes

I'm starting something new this year -- book clubs for my fourth, fifth and sixth graders. I've never had time in my schedule until recently. I didn't expect many students to show much interest in a recess reading club but, with the encouragement of the teachers, the kids have been signing up. So, I am excited at the prospect of introducing them to some really cool books.

Here are a few of the titles I'm considering.

The Magic Thief, by Sarah Prineas
Rules, by Cynthia Lord
No Talking, by Andrew Clements
The Penderwicks, by Jeanne Birdsall
Replay, by Sharon Creech
The Underneath, by Kathi Appelt
The Lightning Thief, by Rick Riordan
Hugging the Rock, by Susan Taylor Brown
Holes, by Louis Sachar
Crash, by Jerry Spinelli
Autumn Street, by Lois Lowry

I know I need to find more titles for my fourth graders. Maybe Frindle, by Andrew Clements or Fourth Grade Rats, by Jerry Spinelli.

I recently found a good source of decent quotes about reading. I hope to introduce the kids to a new quote each time we meet. Maybe the students can even take turns reading them on the morning announcements. Brainwashing at its best! Here are a few of the quotes I like.

Books....are like lobster shells, we surround ourselves with 'em,
then we grow out of 'em and leave 'em behind,
as evidence of our earlier stages of development. (1928)
~ Dorothy Sayers ~

Read the best books first,
or you may not have a chance to read them at all.
~ Henry David Thoreau ~

Books--the children of the brain.
~ Jonathan Swift ~

A great book should leave you with many
experiences and slightly exhausted at the end.
You should live several lives while reading it.
~ William Styron ~

Reading is to the mind what exercise is to the body.
~ Richard Steele ~

The more that you read,
the more things you will know.
The more that you learn,
the more places you'll go.
~ Dr. Seuss ~

Reading makes immigrants of us all.
It takes us away from home, but more important,
it finds homes for us everywhere.
~ Hazel Rochman ~

It is not enough to simply teach children to read;
we have to give them something worth reading.
Something that will stretch their imaginations-
something that will help them make sense of their own lives
and encourage them to reach out toward people
whose lives are quite different from their own.
~ Katherine Paterson ~

Outside a dog, a book is man's best friend.
Inside a dog, it's too dark to read.
Groucho Marx

Books to the ceiling,
Books to the sky,
My pile of books is a mile high.
How I love them! How I need them!
I'll have a long beard by the time I read them.
Arnold Lobel

Do you have a favorite quote about books or reading? If so, please share it!

Soggy Saturday

My husband ran the Hamptons Marathon the Saturday before last and I wish I had a picture but I don't. He finished in under 4 hours, qualifying for Boston. Yay! It was tough day for him. For one, I couldn't go with him because I was home sick with bronchitis so thankfully my son, Derek, accompanied him. Then, not only was the course grueling, but it rained torrents all morning. Dennis found himself sloshing through puddles, mud, fog and uphill and downhill and into the wind in every direction. Although the conditions weren't pleasant, they certainly made the race a memorable one. Of course, moments after crossing the finish line, the storm blew out over the Atlantic, the sky cleared and the sun came out.

Back home, we had high tides that crept over the bulkheading into our backyard. That's nothing new around here. Above is a picture of a particularly high tide taken after a nor'easter last year. See the mallards swimming in our backyard? Fortunately, the water has never come into our house - just the crawl space (where we have a pump installed).

Over the course of the fall and winter, I expect we'll get hit with a couple more high tides which is why we always keep a pair of waders handy in the front room closet. Living near the water has its down side.

The End of September

I have today and tomorrow off work (Rosh Hoshannna). So, today I ran some errands. Then, I cleaned my nightstand of its cache of "stuff" - mostly back issues of School Library Journal, American Artist and Writer magazine. I found weird things in there, like a bag of pretty, smooth stones from Lake Michigan (I had considered doing a still life with them), some furry little bears from a side trip to the Vermont Teddy Bear factory one February (we went there to ski and it rained), books that people gave me as gifts but that I didn't like yet felt guilty discarding, an assortment of bookmarks, pens, ideas for stories that looked as though I'd jotted them down in the middle of the night (and probably had). I sat on my bedroom floor for two hours sorting through all that stuff. Now I have a box of donations.

This afternoon I ventured out in the backyard to cut back my daisies and settle into some serious weeding. I filled up two lawn and leaf bags with cuttings and weeds. I plan to spend a few more hours out there tomorrow, pulling up more weeds. These past few years, my garden has been plagued by some obnoxious, viney thing with purple flowers that entwines itself around everything. It smothers the life out of its victims.

So, tonight I'm relaxing. I've been reading Donald Maas's book, Writing the Breakout Novel, and it's taking me ages to get through. He makes many good points but, still, it's a little overwhelming and is going to take some time to soak in. Like maybe years. Or a decade.

At work, my new books have arrived at my main school. Yay! I've been having fun reading all the new picture books. I always read every single one of those. Some of the new nonfiction is so stunning - Nic Bishop's Frogs, Nic Bishop's Spiders, Living Color (by Steve Jenkins), Families (by Susan Kuklin). And of course I can't wait to read some of the new fiction.

For me, the end of this September is filled with the chirpy song of crickets, with the color of leaves changing from green to yellow, orange and crimson, with the sad yet joyful knowledge that my children aren't mine anymore. As I sit here writing, my oldest is out hiking part of the Long Trail in Vermont with some friends and my youngest has finally moved into his own place in Long Beach where he's busy carving out his own life. I applaud that, yet still I miss the days when we were all here together, curled up snug and warm. I miss reading my boys their bedtime story, attending their concerts, their soccer games and Boy Scout meetings, their music lessons and concerts. For a while I truly believed I was raising two aspiring musicians -- one a violinist and the other a cellist.

For me, September is a wistful time of inevitable transitions. This year is no exception.

Five Things On A Friday

1. Colds suck, even when you're home with a cup of hot tea, your computer on your lap and away from your day job. This is second day I've kept myself home from work with this nasty thing. Achoo!

2. Boxes of new books are one of the best parts of being a librarian. I got to spend a little more on new books this year (hooray!). Still, it's not enough. Among my new acquisitions are Living Color, by Steve Jenkins; The Underneath, by Kathi Appelt; Shooting the Moon, by Francis Dowell; Frankie Stein, by Lola Schafer; Diary of a Wimpy Kid, by Jeff Kinney; The Percy Jackson series, by Rick Riordan; The Arrival, by Shawn Tan, The Magic Thief, by Sarah Prineas, and many others. Lots of great nonfiction and poetry, too. It's like Christmas.

3. My youngest finally moved into his own place in Long Beach - a mere 15 minutes from work. Actually, he's sharing a house with 2 friends. They have little furniture (that will happen in time) and he's very excited about having a real job with benefits and living independently. We are too!

4. Tomorrow my husband is running the Hamptons Marathon out in East Hampton. He's been training for it for months. Unfortunately, the forecast is rain. Ugh. We hope it's gone by the time of the race. His goal is to run it under 4 hours so he can qualify for Boston. Go Dennis!

5. I sold an article to the SCBWI Bulletin in July. Don't think I ever posted this bit of news, though. It will be published sometime in the future (as opposed to the past?). No saying when. I hope it's within the year.

September 11th, Remembered

So, here it's been 7 years since that awful day when our country was attacked by terrorists and somehow hearing about it all over again still tears a hole in my heart.

I read the book, Fireboat, by Maira Kalman, to my 4th graders today and, even though I thought I was well over this event, I found myself choking back tears as I read the story. The kids looked at me, wonderingly. I thought of David from my art class who lost both of his daughters. They worked for Cantor Fitzgerald. I thought of Stephanie, a young woman who babysat for our boys when they were young. She lost her husband that day and she still hasn't remarried. I thought of all the people whose names I can't remember, people lost in the rubble, reduced to bits of flesh and bone found by the cadaver police dogs or haphazardly by firefighters, EMTS or others. I thought of the signs draped over the parkways that day and in the weeks afterward when the normally jam-packed roads were nearly empty. "Pray for the Missing EMTS". "Pray for the Missing Firefighters". And then "David, Come Home". That one got me. I also thought of all the little kids in the neighborhood selling lemonade and trying to help, in some small way, to raise money for the families of the victims. It was both sweet and sad. All those images crowded my mind as I read the story of the fireboat, the John J. Harvey.

Sometimes I want to forget this day ever happened. Like the day Kennedy or Martin Luther King was assassinated, somehow I can't. It's just as important to remember the sad memories as it is the good. They're all part of being human.

Back To Work

For the teachers and students of Long Island, this was back-to-school week. Yesterday, we had a school wide meeting with our new superintendent, who truly is a super guy (well-educated, articulate, smart and a person of integrity). Then back at our building, we had a meeting with our principal to explain everything that was in a folder (and we could have read ourselves). Principals always insist on stating the obvious or going over things we've been over a million times before. Of course it was time I could have better spent updating my library automation program, hanging a new bulletin board or opening my Picturing America grant.

Out on the blacktop this morning were the usual collection of kindergartners in their new clothes, carrying their new backpacks filled with shiny things - pencils, crayons, water bottles, scissors, etc. One girl keep unzipping her pack and peeping inside with a smile on her face. Some had tears in their eyes while others had a "been there, done that" attitude. One little guy was having a full blown tantrum while clinging desperately to his mom's leg. The parents were all there with cameras, camcorders and last words of advice for their kids before we shepherded them down the long corridor to kindergarten. One phase of their lives over and another just beginning. Somehow, I think it was more traumatic for the parents than the kids.

Over the summer, I forget how much I miss the kids. They are, after all, the reason we have jobs. And they always remind me of how much I owe them. Today a boy named Sam asked me if I had the book, Dog Heaven, by Cynthia Rylant. After I helped him find it, he sat down to read it. The class aid looked at me and whispered, "His dog died yesterday." After he'd finished, Sam had tears in his eyes. I hope that in some small way, Dog Heaven helped him come to grips with the loss of his pet.

Books are such powerful tools and this small incident reminded me once again of the power of the pen and the ability we have to help children through every part of their lives on the bumpy dirt road to adulthood.

Teen Jobs

Over on Author2Author, they've been discussing favorite teen jobs - always great fodder for a story or two. Teen jobs are usually sucky, minimum wage deals that you do for pocket change or so you won't have to beg your parents for money to buy new clothes all the time.

As I entered my teens, I babysat for people with lots of kids - at least 4 or 5 (or more) each. This was back in the day when most mothers still stayed home with the kids while the dads went off to work every day in the sole family car. To keep them quiet, I often sat them down at the kitchen table with a stack of paper, pencils and crayons and drew them while they worked on a picture of each other. This was good for an hour or two at least, despite comments like, "Mikey keeps sticking his tongue out at me" and "Annie keeps wiggling her eyebrows".

The first job I had after babysitting was working at MacDonald's. Yeah. I started on milkshakes, then moved on to french fries, dressing burgers, toasting buns, cooking burgers and working the counter. A favorite past time on a slow day was watching customers get out of their cars and predicting what they'd order before they approached the counter. I wrote a short story about this experience for a creative writing class in college.

Then I worked as a cocktail waitress at a student disco bar. It was loud and smoky with colored lights that flashed in time to pulsating, surround sound music. The tips were lousy but I had a lot of fun with the staff, especially after work. We went to Denny's for breakfast or over to somebody's apartment to unwind and laugh until our sides hurt. I often climbed into bed as the morning's first rays peeked over the horizon. After I'd had enough of drunks throwing up in my section, I asked to become a bartender. A slightly better job. I learned how to mix exotic drinks and to dance and play the air guitar. I also became a decent shot at pool or, as they called it, "billiards". The kiss-off song after last call was always "Last Dance" by Donna Summer. Anybody remember her?

I had other jobs, too. Carhop, aid for a special ed. teacher, clerical worker. I waitressed at the Moose Club, at a French restaurant and at a health food restaurant.

These summer jobs paid for most of my tuition and books as I worked my way through college. I developed an appreciation for all the people who work hard for a living and I know there's still a lot of stories to mine from the memories of every single one of them and the assortment of characters I worked with.

Outlining

Does anybody outline their novel? Until recently, I never believed in outlining a work of fiction. Research papers and nonfiction articles - yeah. But never fiction. I always believed in letting the story develop organically, that one thing should logically lead to another. Somewhere along the way, though, I got lost. Granted, I'd never written a novel before - just short stories and picture book manuscripts where you can keep all your characters and plot strands in easy sight.

With a novel, though, characters begin to wander away and before long you lose sight of them. I left one in a shed and nearly forgot about her. Gad, she could have died! So, I recently began outlining my novel. Not tightly, mind you. I'm just writing a little two or three line description of what should happen in each chapter in order for my main character to grow while trying to keep the reader interested. Writing a novel, I've decided, is a lot like conducting an orchestra. Not that I've ever conducted one, but I've watched enough of them to get the main idea. You have to know when to bring in the violins, then the trumpets and the flute solo, then all the strings, etc. If you forget something, the music becomes nothing but a cacophonous arrangement of unforgettable noise. The listener stops listening or, as in the case of a novel, the reader stops reading. Or worse, falls asleep. We do not want to put the reader to sleep.

So, I'm now working on an outline. I hope it helps me get through the rest of this thing without pulling out my hair.

Follow the Brick Road

Chautauqua is a magical place. When I arrived, I felt as though I'd somehow sailed over the rainbow and landed smack in the middle of Oz. On my first day there, I got lost. I asked for directions and was told, "follow the brick road". I grinned. I almost really was in Oz. An Oz for artists and free thinkers of all kinds -- musicians, artists, singers, dancers. And yes, even aspiring writers of children's books. Some people still think writing for children is "cute". Not a serious business at all. But not the Highlights people. And certainly not the 100 or so people who attended the Chautauqua workshops.

They ranged in age from their 20s to their 70s and came from all areas of the country, including Alasa. Some were writing picture books, some fantasy, historical fiction, mysteries, nonfiction, biographies or poetry. All were there to hone their craft and learn more about the long brick road to publication.

We were well fed, well educated, well coached and well entertained. I stayed at the historic Atheneuem Hotel looking out on Lake Chautauqua. With the second oldest elevator still in operation, vaulted ceilings, tall windows and long porches crowded with rocking chairs and wicker furniture, the hotel held an irresistible charm.

Not all of us stayed at the Atheneuem. One member of our group stayed at another hotel where, she claimed, she couldn't get any rest because her bed kept shaking. When she looked under and around the bed, she couldn't find any reason for the shaking. When she complained and asked the management for another room, they told her they'd never had anybody else make that complaint and that the hotel was full. Not only did her bed shake, but her clock radio flashed on and off periodically and sometimes she detected a growling noise. Even though she didn't really believe in ghosts, I think she finally believed some supernatural force was to blame. Finally, desperate for rest, she addressed the "ghost" - or whatever it was. She told it she was tired and needed to get some sleep so it could have one half the bed if she could have the other. Miraculously, the shaking stopped. This all sounds far fetched, I know, but the woman was totally creeped out about her close encounter with, ahh, whatever it was. Maybe she could weave her experience into picture book?

Anyhow, besides the ghost, we had sessions with authors Jerry and Eileen Spinelli, Mary Casanova, Rich Wallace, Neil Waldman, Sally Walker, Suzanne Bloom, editors Randi Rivers (Charlesbridge) and Traci Gates(Viking), Carolyn Yoder, Judy Burke and Patricia Lee Gauch (Philomel). We attended many different workshops. I couldn't go to all of them, but I did attend workshops on point of view, setting, characterization, beginnings and endings, writing historical fiction, writing fantasy, creating illustrations (with ill. Floyd Cooper), mining your memories and writing poetry, to name some.

The key note addresses at the beginning of each day were inspiring. Linda Sue Park gave the funniest speech and, for me, Peter Jacobi the most inspiring speech. They were all wonderful, however, and if I could go back to Chautauqua there'd still be plenty for me to see and do without getting bored.

In the photos above are a few of the scenes from Chautauqua They don't begin to do it justice. My mentor was Judy Burke, Managing editor of Highlights, in the third photograph.

Summer Daise

Lately we've had mostly rainy weather, as in the lower photograph, or weather that just looked like it was going to rain any minute only it went on that way day after day. The dewpoint has been in mid 60s - just like the tropics. For the first time in a week, the sun finally popped out and my gloriosa daisies grinned from petal to petal.

I have to admit, my flowers have been spectacular this year. First the daffodils and the tulips, then the peonies with their big showy blooms of pink and white, then my shasta daisies and now my gloriosas. Actually, I have some interesting mixes of yellow daisies. For a while, I had yellow coneflowers. They cross-pollinated with the gloriosa daisies and some black-eyed susans I used to have before some high tides did them in. A geneticist could have a field day in my garden. As for me, I'm just content to enjoy their sunny colors as I wait for my hydrangeas to rich their peak.

100 Books You Should Read Before You Turn 13

Okay, here's MY list. I'm sure it doesn't include all your favorites but I hope it includes a few of them at least. This is the bibliography I passed out to my 4th-6th graders before summer vacation.

100 Books You Should Read Before You Turn 13
(These are novels for grades 3-6)

Aiken, Joan. The Wolves of Willoughby Chase.
Alexander, Lloyd. The Black Cauldron.
Alexander, Lloyd. The Cat Who Wished To Be a Man.
Appelt, Catherine. The Underneath.
Avi. Crispin and the Cross of Lead.
Babbitt, Natalie. Tuck Everlasting.
Banks, Lynne Reid. The Indian in the Cupboard.
Baum, Frank. The Wizard of Oz.
Birdsall, Jeanne. The Penderwicks.
Blume, Judy. Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing.
Boston, Lucy. The Children of Green Knowe.
Brittain, Bill. The Wish Giver.
Brown, Susan Taylor. Hugging the Rock.
Burnett, Frances Hodgson. The Secret Garden.
Byars, Betsy. The Pinballs.
Choldenko, Gennifer. Al Capone Does My Shirts.
Choldenko, Gennifer. Notes From a Liar and her Dog.
Cleary, Beverly. Dear Mr. Henshaw.
Cleary, Beverly. Ralph S. Mouse.
Cleary, Beverly. Ramona Quimby, Age 8.
Cohen, Barbara. Thank You, Jackie Robinson.
Cooper, Susan. The Dark Is Rising.
Creech, Sharon. Love That Dog.
Creech, Sharon. Walk Two Moons.
Creech, Sharon. The Wanderer.
Curtis, Christopher Paul Bud, Not Buddy.
Cushman, Karen. Catherine, Called Birdy.
Cushman, Karen. The Midwife’s Apprentice.
Dahl, Roald. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
Dahl, Roald. The BFG.
DeFelice, Cynthia. Weasel.
DiCamillo, Kate. Because of Winn Dixie.
DiCamillo, Kate. The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane.
DiCamillo, Kate. Tale of Despereux.
Estes, Eleanor. The Hundred Dresses.
Farley, Walter. The Black Stallion.
Fitzgerald, John. The Great Brain.
Fitzhugh, Louise. Harriet the Spy.
Fleischman, Paul. The Half-a-Moon Inn.
Fleischman, Syd. The Whipping Boy.
Fox, Paula. How Many Miles To Babylon?
Fox, Paula. The One-Eyed Cat.
Fox, Paula. The Slave Dancer.
Funke, Cornelia. Inkheart.
Gantos, Jack. Joey Pigza Loses Control.
Gantos, Jack. Joey Pigza Swallowed The Key.
Gardiner, John. The Stone Fox.
George, Jean. My Side of the Mountain.
Hale, Shannon. The Princess Academy.
Hesse, Karen. Out of the Dust.
Holman, Felice. Slake’s Limbo.
Holt, Kimberly Willis. My Louisiana Sky.
Hughes, Ted. The Iron Giant.
Hurwitz, Johanna. Class Clown.
Juster, Norton. The Phantom Tollbooth.
Konigsburg, E.L. From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E.
Frankweiler.
L’Engle, Madeleine. A Wrinkle in Time.
Levine, Gail Carson. Ella Enchanted.
Lewis, C.S. The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe.
Lord, Bette. In the Year of the Boar and Jackie Robinson
Lord, Cynthia. Rules.
Lowry, Lois. Autumn Street.
Lowry, Lois. The Giver.
Lowry, Lois. Number the Stars.
Naylor, Phyllis. Shiloh.
Lupica, Mike. Heat.
MacLachlan, Patricia. Sarah Plain and Tall.
McKinley, Robin. Beauty
Mongomery, Lucy Maud. Anne of Green Gables.
Norton, Mary. The Borrowers.
O’Brien, Robert. Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH
O’Dell, Scott. Island of the Blue Dolphins.
Paterson, Katherine. A Bridge To Terabithia.
Paterson, Katherine. The Great Gilly Hopkins.
Paulsen, Gary. Harris and Me.
Paulsen, Gary. Hatchet.
Paulsen, Gary. Nightjohn.
Pinkwater, Daniel. Fat Men From Space.
Raskin, Ellen. The Westing Game.
Rawls, Wilson. Where the Red Fern Grows.
Robinson, Barbara. The Best Christmas Pageant Ever.
Rowling, J.K. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone
Riordan, Rick. The Lightning Thief.
Rylant, Cynthia. A Blue-Eyed Daisy.
Sachar, Louis. Holes.
Selznick, David. The Invention of Hugo Cabret.
Sewall, Anna. Black Beauty.
Spinelli, Jerry. Crash.
Spinelli, Jerry. Wringer.
Taylor, Sydney. Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry.
Taylor, Theodore. The Cay.
Travers, Mary. Mary Poppins.
Urban, Linda. A Crooked Kind of Perfect.
White, E.B. Charlotte’s Web.
White, E.B. Stuart Little.
Wilder, Laura Ingalls. By the Shores of Silver Lake.
Wilder, Laura Ingalls. Little House on the Prairie.
Wilder, Laura Ingalls. The Long Winter.
Williams, Marjorie. The Velveteen Rabbit.
Wolff, Virginia Euwer. Bat 6.

Things That Break

Things break. Things with springs, gears, wheels, sprockets. Usually they break one at a time with months - perhaps years - in between. But lately, the small appliances that make our life easier have been breaking in rapid succession. First it was the garage door opener. How did we ever get into the garage without it? The door is heavy and groans in protest every time we pull at the handle. If it's raining, we get wet. It could be worse, though. It could be January with blowing and drifting snow.

Next the washing machine broke. This posed a bigger problem. I called the appliance repairman. It will be a few days, he told us. Ugh. The laundry piled up. And up. Should I go to the laundromat? I wondered. No, better to wait. Laundromats are almost as depressing as bus stations.

Then the weed whacker broke. I know that doesn't sound like a big deal -- and it isn't, really. I just have trouble getting to my garden. The tall grasses spread into my flower beds. Everything looks messy. Maybe I should buy an old fashioned pair of clippers. They never break.

Now our air conditioner is on the fritz. We had to turn it off. It will be a while before the repairman can get here and I am not happy. Air conditioner repairmen are a hot commodity during the summertime. And Long Island is warm and humid. Doors and drawers swell and nothing closes properly. Another inconvenience.

It's all right, though. Eventually these appliances will be repaired and life will go on.

Some things are harder to fix. My son's college roommate, Chrispy (actually Chris P.), woke up a few months ago with a pain in his neck. For a while he ignored it, but the pain grew worse. He didn't have a job and, without a job, he didn't have insurance. He decided he should wait to see the doctor. So, he got a job and the day his insurance kicked in, he woke up and couldn't move his neck at all.

They took him to St. Luke's in New York and discovered he had a tumor on his c1 vertebra. A sensitive spot. Worse, it was inside his spine. If they operated, he risked being paralyzed for the rest of his life. Or dying. If they didn't operate, he faced the same odds. The doctors operated but had to remove his c1 vertebra and place a rod in his spine. He can't turn his neck anymore. Today Sean called him to see how he was doing. The doctors performed a biopsy. Chrispy has bone cancer. Bone cancer! This isn't suppose to happen. He's only 22. How can this be? He'll need radiation and we're not sure what else. At 22, people are in the prime of their life. No, it's so not fair!

All those little gizmos that make our lives easier are squat next to a human life. We can fix the air conditioner and the washing machine. We can replace the garage door opener and the weed whacker. Human lives are harder, though. We just hope and pray Chrispy will pull through this.

The Last Day, Hooray!

Today was my last day of work. As much as I love my students, teaching and the library, I do feel the need for a break. This school year seemed interminable and, with temperatures climbing into the 80s and 90s, it was simply too hot for students to concentrate on learning much longer - at least not in a cramped, stuffy classroom.

As usual, I passed out a bibliography of books for summer reading, but this time I retitled it "100 Books You Should Read Before You Turn 13". I told my fifth graders they were lucky. Unlike the sixth graders, who only had two years to read all the books on the list, they had three whole years. If they got started right away, they might have time to finish all of them. The first thing the kids did was to run through the bibliography and check off all the titles they'd already read. Most of them had read somewhere between five to ten of the books. Today, a girl named Kayla called me as she leaving for summer vacation. "Mrs. Michel, I'm almost done with The Whipping Boy. Next I'm going to read The Secret Garden."

I gave her the thumbs up and smiled. "Happy vacation!" I called.

Now for two months of rest. Oh, and a big stack of books to make my way through.

SCBWI Conference

Last Saturday I drove up to Poughkeepsie to attend the SCBWI Eastern NY Conference. I'd been to the Long Island SCBWI conference and wanted to try something different. Besides, the upstate conference offered manuscript critiques. The LI conference only offers first page criitques and then only a select few.

The keynote speaker was 1982 Newbery winner, Nancy Willard. She proved to be not only an amazing writer, but an inspirational speaker and captivating storyteller. Like me, she was born and raised in Michigan and has an avid interest in fairy tales, but man, if only I could write like her! I could have listened to her speak for another hour or two, if she'd been so inclined. If you haven't read her book, The Left-handed Story, I recommend it. The book is an eclectic collection of essays on the writer's craft, family stories, failures, successes, muses and the mundane and the mystical.

I also listened to part of author Colleen Paratore's talk on her journey to becoming a successful writer. She didn't talk about good luck so much as hard work, perseverance and butt in chair time. I didn't get to hear all of her talk because I stopped by to listen to agent Tina Wexler speak. She was interesting but not nearly as fascinating as Colleen and I wish I'd hung around to listen to everything she had to say.

Is it just me, or do nearly all these editors and agents look they're fresh out of college?

Alexandra Penfold, associate editor at Paula Wiseman Books (imprint of Simon & Schuster) spoke about what she looks for in a manuscript. She asks herself a couple of questions as she's reading through a submission. Is there an audience for this book? Does the story surprise me? Take me to places I'd like to go? Am I moved by the story? Does the action move at a good pace? Build tension? Is the character somebody I care about?

Tina Wexler, who works for ICM, spoke about the kind of stories she likes. She wants a book that makes her cry, makes her feel, think and not want to put it down. She likes books that take a risk, adventure stories, mysteries, coming of age stories and the quirky. She represents mostly middle grade and YA authors. I'm always mystified by the word "quirky".

Kim Griswell, editor at Highlights Magazine, discussed how to create a sense of place. She suggested we make use of our five senses as we write and to avail ourself to local newspapers, Chambers of Commerce, library archives, etc. to find out more about any particular place.

So went the conference. It's always good to connect with other writers in person instead of through message boards -- to see the faces behind the names. I was not disappointed.

How Do You Beat the Heat?

Lately we've been caught in the sticky web of a horrible heat wave. For several days running, the heat index has hovered in the upper 90s to 100s. UGH! And of course school is still in session. On Monday and Tuesday, the classes on the second floor of the school (where the temperature was above 100 degrees) were moved to the ground floor where it was only 98 degrees. I don't even want to venture to say what the temperature was in the kitchen and the nice ladies who work there didn't to talk about it much. Let's just say they weren't smiling.

The library is one of only two rooms in the school that is air conditioned (the office is the other). Our principal decided I needed to share my little oasis with the rest of the students. So, for several days running the library became "Camp Library". At one point, a fifth grade class, a kindergarten, a special ed., an ESL class and some speech students camped out around the library trying to focus on the task of learning. By afternoon, nearly everybody had given up and sat slumped in their seats watching James and the Giant Peach. That sad old air conditioner had about had it, too (it seemed to be wheezing) as had the rest of us. I didn't mind sharing the library, once I decided I just couldn't teach my usual classes there. It's sure been a weird week.

If administrators want us to teach till the end of June, they should give some serious thought to installing air conditioners in the classes. Who can learn or even think when their brain feels as though it's 'bout ready to melt?

Chautauqua Anybody?

I took the plunge and signed up for Chautauqua this summer. I'm hoping to wrangle a few graduate credits out of this summer workshop but, even if the administration doesn't approve, I plan to go and make the most of it.

As I read through the bios of the attendees, I experienced a little sinking feeling in my stomach. So many of them are established writers with a long list of writing credits - novels, contest wins, article after published article. Many of them are even college professors and so, what do I have to show for myself? I've won one SCBWI poetry contest (June Looms) and have had a handful of poems accepted for upcoming issues of magazines and ezines. Other than that? Nothing. I've subbed a few picture book manuscripts here and there and have even had a couple of comments come back but so far all I've had are rejections. And mostly form rejections. Truthfully, I haven't subbed much at all. I've been busy working on my middle grade fantasy. And since I work full time, it's slow going. Sometimes, I only write on the weekends. How ridiculous is that? And what business do I have going to Chautauqua?

And so I teeter back and forth between backing out and forging ahead. I think of George Zorn, my writing instructor in college, who encouraged me to apply to the University of Iowa's creative writing program. I never did, even though he told me he used my stories as examples of how to write a story. I thought he was joking but apparently not, or so I learned when I saw a copy of one of my stories in somebody's folder. Ha.

If anybody has been to Chautauqua and would like to share their thoughts and experiences, I'd sure appreciate it. It's not exactly a cheap venture but I've denied myself many things over the years. I should not feel guilty. Should I?

Quick, somebody tell me no! Please!!

Happy Mother's Day

I just want to take a moment to wish all you mommies out there a very happy Mother's Day. For me, this day is bitter sweet. My boys served me breakfast in bed which was great of them. Tonight they're taking me out for dinner at one of my favorite restaurants, Cafe Joelle. I'm lucky to have two wonderful, healthy sons.

At the same time, I miss my own mom who died last summer in a car accident. I found an old postcard from her today on top of the fridge featuring Conway Castle in Wales. Funny, because lately I've been doing some research on castles as the beginning of my WIP is set in one.

Anyhow, above is an old photo of Derek, Dennis and I not too long after we brought Derek home. He was about 3 months old. We look so young.

Oh yeah, we were.

Pop-up Books

Who Says Books Are Outdated?

Ever notice that whenever a politician or a world leader wants to give his constituents the impression of being scholarly, smart and well read that he has his photograph taken or interview conducted in a library? Not in a computer room or before a Smart Board but in a room lined with lots and lots of those friendly, low tech books. And if he really wants to give the impression that he's literate, he'll actually hold a book in his lap. Not a laptop or a blackberry or some other electronic gizmo but a solid, rectangular book with a spine, a title page and all those famous, mundane bookish trappings.

And why is it that when people want to honor a former president, they build a library in his name? Again, not a computer lab but a library? Is it true that building a library in somebody's honor is the highest form of flattery? The best way possible to pay tribute to somebody's leadership and intellectual superiority?

So, I must ask myself, why is it schools are so willing to pump thousands of dollars into the latest technological marvels at the expense of their libraries? I don't get it.

Anyhow, here's one type of book that takes some engineering smarts. Check out the video above featuring pop-up master Robert Sabuda.

The Murky Middle and Other Stuff

I'm sloshing around in the murky middle of my novel. I wish I were one of those writers who could plot each chapter carefully and knew exactly what was going to happen next. But, that's just not the way I write. I like to make discoveries as I go along. And I like the surprise of those aha moments that send goose pimples up and down my back.

Often, writing is not that way. I write a little, then sit back and wonder if I'm making sense. Sometimes I like what I've written, but more often than not, I wind up revising and revising my latest installment. Long ago, my mom taught me how to knit. As long as I paid attention and remembered to count my stitches, my rows came out nice and neat and, if I stuck to the pattern, eventually everything would come together and I'd wind up with a scarf or a pair of mittens or even a hat. For me, writing is a little like knitting but without the pattern. So, I expect I'll wind up with a rather lumpy first novel that may not hang together all that well. If that's the case, I guess I can always pull out the stitches and redo things.

While I'm blogging, I just want to wish Megan Holden (from our Monday night running group) good luck today in the Boston Marathon. Last year, she qualified for the Olympic time trials with a blistering 2:44 and Boston is the race from which the women's Olympic marathon team will be selected. She's self coached, by the way. So, go Megan! We know it's an outside shot, but we're rooting for you.

Writing Award

Yesterday, my son, Derek, got a call from the editor of The Suffolk County News, the local newspaper he wrote a series of articles for about his experiences along the Appalachian Trail. He won second place in the NY Press Association's feature story division. Hooray!

In the beginning, he wasn't sure he wanted to write the articles. He didn't know if he'd have ready access to a computer or if he'd have enough to say every other week for five months or so. As it turned out, the people in the little towns along the AT were more than willing to share a computer with him and the people he met, the scenery, weather, moments of joy and frustration provided him with a wealth of writing material.

I know it's not the Pulitzer Prize but we are so enormously proud of Derek.

Is it Such a Smart Idea?

School districts have always been in a hurry to acquire the latest technological marvel. When I was kid (and I know I'm dating myself here), filmstrips and 16mm movies were big. School districts all wanted the latest audio-visual equipment. It made everybody think they were on the cutting edge of education. Then it was television, videos, computers, CD ROMs, DVDs and now? Now it's - ta da - the Smartboard!

Educators get very excited with the mere mention of the word Smartboard, as though students are going to become geniuses as soon as their little fingers come in direct contact with one. I realize that Smartboards are pretty nice. They're big interactive computers on large boards and kids love computers, right? They are undoubtedly good teaching tools. But why can't school districts wait until the price comes down a little? And why do they try to stock every school with a supply of Smartboards when we need basics like books?

I'm a little annoyed because, sigh, here they go again chasing down the next technological thingamajig when the sad little library they transferred me to is standing there with its half-empty shelves and my students are asking me for the latest Spiderwick Chronicles book, or if I have May Bird and the Ever After, or Skippyjon Jones, or some new Percy Jackson books (I don't have any). Aaarrgh! It's all so frustrating! If you want children to become better readers, you have to offer them more good books.

So, I expect that within five years or so, Smartboards will be languishing in the storage closet along with those outdated computers and dot matrix printers that also cost thousands of dollars while kids will still be checking out the books we purchased ten years ago, books that don't feature videos, play music, have flash drives or display pop-up ads. The truth is, books last longer and probably do more to shape lives than machines. Machines are tools. Books are windows on the world.

Voice?

There's a lot of discussion among writers about "voice". But what is it? Editors claim it's probably the most important element of writing. They can help you fix the plot, the wording, the action. But voice? That's one element an author must grapple with all alone.

I've decided that the only voice an author really needs to worry about is that of the characters. Maybe I'm wrong, but I think voice refers to the personality of your characters. In a well-written book, the main character's voice or personality shines clearly through within a few pages of the first chapter. Maybe within a few paragraphs or sentences, even. Take, for instance, the voice of Death in Markus Zusak's novel, The Book Thief (Knopf, 2006).

HERE IS A SMALL FACT. You are going to die. I am in all truthfulness attempting to be cheerful about this whole topic, though most people find themselves hindered in believing me, no matter my protestations. Please, trust me. I most definitely can be cheerful. I can be amiable. Agreeable. Affable. And that's onlys the A's. Just don't ask me to be nice. Nice has nothing to do with me.

Within a few sentences, Zusak has given Death a distinctive, snarky personality. He's intriguing and you keep reading. Or at least I did.

Writing style, though? That something else again. Cynthia Rylant, for example, has a distinctively simple and beautiful writing style that permeates all her writing, whether it's picture books, novels, autobiography or poetry. It's always there and easily identifiable. J.D. Salinger and William Steig also have a distinctive writing style and each very different from the other.

It seems that an author must establish the voice of the main characters almost immediately but that style is something he or she develops more slowly over years of writing. Style is more subtle. I think it has to be. Highly stylized writing detracts from the voice of the characters. Writing is always such a tricky balancing act.

Anybody have any thoughts on this?

Some Good News

I haven't blogged much lately. Too many things cropped up at the same time. After vacation, I had a children's lit. class I had to prepare for. After two class sessions, I can say I'm enjoying it but that it's a lot of work -- a lot of dragging books from one school to the next, of preparing book talks and figuring out some activities we can do with our "students" (fellow teachers). Lucky for me I'm not doing it by myself. I'm teaching the course along with a few of the other library media specialists. After getting up before daybreak and teaching all day, nearly everybody looks a little glassy-eyed but they all say they're enjoying it. Yay!

I do have some good news to post. My youngest son, who graduated from SUNY Oswego in December, just landed a teaching job!! He went for an interview last week, did a demo lesson, and spoke with the superintendent. He'll begin the job in September. This is the son we worried about, the one who never liked school. Being ADD, he had trouble sitting in his seat, getting organized, staying on top of his work. We tried him on ritalin, then another drug to help him focus but he hated all of them. They kept him awake at night, they made him gain weight. He didn't feel like himself. So, finally we took him off the drugs and sometimes he did well in school and other times he struggled. With much arm twisting, he finally agreed to give college a try. He struggled a little in his first year, but after he discovered a field that interested him, he stuck to it and graduated. Along the way, he even found he liked history and writing from time to time.

I signed up for Chautauqua this summer and now wonder if I have any business going. I'm sure everybody will be so far above and beyond me that I'm a little fearful of the whole thing. One part of me longs to go yet another part wants to hide someplace. I have no desire to be in the spotlight. I wonder if they'll have us read our work out loud (cringe). Anybody know?

I know I'm rambling. But it's nearly spring and I'm restless.

Vacation Time

Over President's week, we went to Vermont to ski. We stayed at a picturesque bed and breakfast inn with one tv and virtually no cell phone or internet access. We survived just fine, thank you. Since none of the rooms had television, everybody gathered in the big living room in the evening to play board games -- Scrabble, chess, Boggle, etc. -- or to work on a puzzle, read, chat, enjoy a glass of wine or just lay back and eavesdrop on other conversations.

When our boys were young, we often stayed at the Waitsfield Inn for this very reason. Our kids never forgot it. They enjoyed the skiing but, more than that, they remembered the other personalities they met during their short stay. "Remember the guy who rode his bike every day of the year? The guy who did magic tricks? The chess genius?" Ah yes, how could we ever forget?

We skied Sugarbush Mountain and wonderful Mad River Glenn, a cooperatively owned ski area and home of the country's remaining one man chairlift. Mad River Glenn is a special place run by special people who care about the environment. They do little to next to no grooming and haven't clear-cut the mountain like so many other ski areas. The ski trails are the original ones -- narrow, winding and incredibly hard! I love their names -- Fox, Bunny, Cricket,Birdland, Antelope,Paradise, Waterfall, Grasshopper. As innocuous as they sound, they're all difficult and filled with narrow winding twists and moguls. Just like the old days. A few years ago, I thought I'd try Bunny. It sounded harmless. As it turned out, the trail was difficult -- narrow, winding and full of moguls -- and any other ski area probably would have given it a black diamond.

The day we skiied Sugarbush, the Today Show did a broadcast from the mountain so we caught a peek of Matt Lauer, Al Roker and Meredith. Mostly they talked about how cold it was (-5 degrees at the summit) and how to stay warm.

Thursday, as I'm sure everybody knows, it was Valentine's Day. Everybody wore red and pink to school. It was also my son's 24th birthday. Gotta say, he was the best Valentine's Day present I ever got. No box of chocolates or bunch of roses can ever quite compare to the feeling of holding your first baby in your arms. Never mind that he had colic and cried nearly nonstop for the first three months.

I'd almost forgotten about how tired I was until I ran into David, a special ed teacher I work with. His new little girl, Ava, has been keeping him awake night after night. The other day, his wife asked him why he'd put the ice cream away in the cupboard. I remember turning off the shower because I thought the baby was crying only to hear nothing. I was so exhausted, I was imagining things. My husband, who teaches math, often wrote the wrong problems on the board, walked into walls, etc.. Being a new parent is a joy but not without its trials. Even when they're grown and on their own, somehow you never forget your first experiences as a parent.

February Blahs

It's February third and I've been feeling twitchy. Had a minor foot operation about a month ago that threw me off my running routine. I never realize how much I need to run until I can't. Running is hard, yeah, but like nearly everything that's a challenge, it's satisfying. Running helps me burn off my anxieties, to sleep soundly and keep my weight down. Today I took a brisk walk for the first time in a month and, even though it wasn't running, it felt good to work up something near a sweat.

The way I see it, people weren't made to sit in front of a box and veg out. Most of the teachers I work with watch tv at night for entertainment. I don't get it. In fact, one of the major topics of conversation in the faculty room is American Idol and who's going or not going to get cut. With the writers' strike going into who knows how many weeks now, some of them seem lost without a new show to tune into. Maybe we need a book club but right now, I just don't want to be the person running it.

After work, I write, read, browse the internet and usually try to work in some exercise at the gym or by walking or running through the neighborhood. On the weekends, I also paint. I rarely watch tv. The endless commercials bore me and for me, reality tv is cheap tv. Personally, I find the written word more intriguing than most of the crap and insipid trivia that dominates the airwaves. Unfortunately, a lot of that drivel is migrating over to print. How many stories does the average person need to read about Britney Spears and her nervous breakdown?

I love a good movie but last weekend my husband and I tried to go see Atonement. Unfortunately, it was sold out. Aaargh!

Anyhow, what do you do for relaxation after a day at work? I'd love to hear it.

And oh, yeah, GO GIANTS!

Book Lists

With the exception of one person I know, librarians are essentially book lovers. Most of them aren't drawn to the profession out of a love for computers. Sometimes you see them browsing through Borders or Barnes and Noble, salivating over the book-ladened tables and shelves. Now and then they take out their secret notebook and scribble down the title of something they want to order.

Librarians keep running lists of the books they want to order, the books they long to order if they're given the budget they so need and deserve to build a great collection. Like all the librarians I know, I too have lists. I used to keep my list on index cards in a small file box -- one title per card. These days, I keep a list online with Follett's Title Wave or Bound-to-Stay-Bound's online bookstore. They tell me right away if the book is available, out of print, the current price and what format it's available in.

When I'm ready to order, I simply print out my list, attach a P.O. and send it off. Over the summer, the books arrive and wait patiently in their boxes for somebody to open them, take them out and devour them.

My list keeps getting longer, of course, and I suppose at some point I'm going to have to cut it down. Anyhow, here a just a few of the books I'd love to order:

1. The Anansi stories, by Eric Kimmel
2. More Greek and Roman Myths
3. About 15 books of poetry, namely Good Books, Good Times; Behold the Bold Umprellaphant; Beyond the Museum Door; She's All That; Butterfly Eyes; This Is Just To Say; The Wizard; Bury Me In the Library and more.
4. The Spiderwick Chronicles
5. Many of the Caldecott and Newberys we don't have (The Spider and the Fly, Duffy and the Devil, Martin's Big Words, The Fool of the World and the Flying Ship, etc)
6. Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road. A really cool and funny look at the old joke.
7. Peter Sis's The Wall
8. Some Blue Boarder's book, namely: The Pumpkin Queen; Miss Spitfire; A Crooked Kind of Perfect; Cowboy Camp
9. Some great nonfiction, namely: Nic Bishop's Spiders and Nic Bishop's Frogs; Oh Rats; Steve Jenkin's Dogs and Cats and another by him called Living Color; Piven's books What Athletes Are Made Of, What Presidents Are Made Of and My Dog Is As Smelly As Dirty Socks; The Journey That Saved Curious George. And more!
10. This year's Caldecotts and Newberys that I don't have
11. A new set of From-Sea-To-Shining-Sea about the 50 states.
12. A set of books about the continents
13. More biographies. National Geographic has a great set I'd like to order.
14. Some more wonderful picture books. Here the list gets very long. I'd like some of the oldies but goodies, such as the Harry the Dirty Dog books, the Lyle books, etc. as well as lots of new releases: There Is a Bird On Your Head; Baby Bear, Baby Bear;
Dex, the Heart of a Hero; Diary of a Fly; Susan Jeffers version of The Nutcracker; Move Over, Rover; The Snow Queen; If I Had a Dragon; Where the Giant Sleeps; Snow Music; Pictures From Our Vacation; Armadilly Chili, and many many more.
15. Lots of great novels: Hugging the Rock; Shug; the Joey Pigza books, Jerry Spinelli's book, Eggs; The Seven Wonder of Sassafras Springs; Notes From a Liar and Her Dog; Framed by Bruce Cotrell; A Girl Named Disaster; A Dog Called Grk; The Secret Olivia Told Me; Paint the Wind; Edward's Eyes; Moxie Maxwell Does Not Love Stuart Little; Project Mulberry; Talented Clementine; The Hoboken Chicken Emergency; Jack Plank Tells Tales; some Rick Riordan novels and more.

These are just some of the books I'd order, if I had the funding I need. And deserve. Of course, it's hard to compete with technology which is where a lot of our district's funding goes these days. I guess computers and Smart Boards are the shiny new toys that school districts like to brag about. Then they can say that they're preparing the students for the 21st century. Technology is sexy and good PR.

Anyhow, there's hope. I recently wrote a letter to the administration detailing our library's shortcomings. It was, I guess, a passionate appeal with strong wording. They at least thanked me for telling them and said they'd try to help. So, I'm hoping for better funding next school year.

Wow, this must be my longest post to date. A record. I hope one or two people will read it.

Blogger's Block

We're all familiar with writer's block, but lately I've had blogger's block. How can that be? In an effort to break through the walls and get the old gray matter moving again, here are some random thoughts in no particular order.

My eldest almost has a job. He's doing some volunteer work for our local legislator and in a month or two it will become a full time position, complete with health and dental benefits. Yay!

My youngest son passed his New York State Certification Exams! He also graduated from college and did well on the Suffolk Police exam (gives him another option). Now he needs to find a job, too. January is a tough time of year to go hunting for a teaching position but he might get a leave replacement or do some subbing.

I wrote a letter to the administration detailing my library's many shortcomings and the need for more funding. I received a letter back from MJ, our superintendent of instruction, saying they discussed the library's plight at the budget meeting and will see what they can do to help improve the situation. She even thanked me for bringing it to their attention. It's not a promise but here's hoping. I told them that for the price of a computer and printer, we could have so many more books.

We've had an incredibly warm January. My husband saw a confused looking robin the other day. It's suppose to get pretty damn cold this weekend, though. I hope so. I like to see snowmen in January, not robins.

Bobby Fischer died. He was 64. I remember when he beat Boris Spassky in the early 1970s. How could so much time have gone by? And isn't Boris the quintessential Russian name?

I got a new car (a red Acura TSX) and I love it! I've actually enjoyed getting stuck in traffic on the Southern State the past few days. This is the first car I've had that isn't a mommymobile since I was 23. It may be a midlife crisis car but so what! Not that I feel I'm going through some sort of a crisis.

I want to say I'm sorry to the people I didn't send Christmas cards to this year. I tried getting them all out but just couldn't.

Anyhow, happy Friday everybody.

New Year, New Goals

When it comes to New Year's resolutions, I prefer to think in terms of goals. The word "resolution" has a heavy, burdensome tone to it. So I'll consider goals. What are they? I have a couple I'd like to keep in mind as I make my way through this year. Here they are:

1. Write at least one poem a month.
2. Finish writing my middle grade fantasy.
3. Put together enough paintings for a possible art show this summer (including the framing).
4. Lose that 10 pounds that keeps hanging around. That means exercising both more restraint and my body, no excuses.
5. Take either a portrait class or a figure class.
6. Submit more of my work, provided I have something worth subbing.
7. Attend a writing conference. I'd like to attend Chautauqua but only if it seems my novel is closing in on being finished. Unfortunately, by the time I know that it will be too late to apply. So, I'll probably go to the Long Island SCBWI conference.

There, that's enough for now. I'll be ecstatic if I can reach all my goals, but reasonably happy if I meet half of them.

Happy New Year everybody!