One of the reasons I began blogging was to build my platform–you know, the mantra that Kevin Costner inadvertenly began in Field of Dreams: “build it and they will come.”
While I have yet to promote my books (ahem, I have to get manuscripts published first) I have met other writers who focus on young adults and middlers. Valerie is one of the first Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrator writers I found here at WordPress. I will have to say this about Valerie: she is enthusiastic about both SCBWI and writing!
In her own words, or words I found at the bottom of an interview about her:
Valerie Lawson is a young adult contemporary author who dabbles in middle grade mysteries and practices the art of cursing while driving. She has been known on occasion to wield sarcasm like a +5 Holy Avenger. In her previous life, she believes she was a Mayan goddess as evidenced by her love of chocolate and Javier Bardem. (She recognizes that Javier is Spanish, but she doesn’t care.) She lives in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma, with her husband and two children who suffer through her delusions of grandeur and bouts of madness with grace. You can read more about her writing journey on her blog at Barbies on Fire or follow her on Twitter.
I have yet to make it to the annual Los Angeles SCBWI Conference. I vicariously attended the event through Valerie’s vivid play-by-play descriptions of the workshops and functions. She promotes her own OK SCBWI conference and tosses out contests and opportunities to further one’s craft. When she is absent from the blogging spectrum for a while I know it’s because she is immersed in her own writing projects–which is a good thing.
So, thanks, Valerie, for being the cheerleader you are when it comes to getting out there and doing something with our writing.
I have been quite remiss in my blog hostessing. Usually I invite new followers to add their name to the Book Booster roster. If you are a recent follower, please accept my apologies for not having invited you sooner. What’s a Book Booster? This is the detailed link and here is the short version: Read books? Recommend books? Buy or checkout books by the armload? Have a TBR list and stack longer and taller than Superman can leap over in a single bound? Consider yourself a Book Booster and consider this your invite.
What are the benefits?
If you are hoping for a Barnes and Noble discount, I’m afraid the details are still sketchy on that one.
And reserved parking at the library is still being negotiated.
I am still working on that secret handshake.
However, you can revel in the knowledge you are in great company and you can spend hours clicking to connect with other Book Boosters.
While I can’t guarantee all the links are still active I can ensure you will no doubt discover a few new blogs to follow, and in turn they will no doubt find and follow you and that Six Steps Separation thing gets one step closer to becoming a big blogging bunch of Book Boosters.
What? You’re not on the list and you thought you were? I can fix that…
So send me your “Of course add me to the roster” approval and then it’s happy browsing.
My latest spotlight is on another blogger whom I’ve exchanged commentaries since the beginning of my blogging foray.
In his own words:
Everyone calls me Ste J. I am an obsessive book creature, in fact I spend more time between the (book) covers (I read in bed as well though) than I do with ‘real’ people.
Which means I probably spend more time with you guys than anyone else. Feel privileged.
Ste J is a bona fide bibliophiliac. He loves books. That’s a bonafide fact. Proof: he once read 100 books in 362 days, just to see if he could do it. His blog is neatly organized into genre and with a mere click, a person can investigate reviews and titles. His tastes are eclectic, his insights meaningful, and his replies clever.
Lately, his posts have wandered a bit off the original track of being primarily bookish in content and he writes on whim. I can relate. I too have strayed from my original intent of providing astute book reviews that would dazzle and benefit bookdom and have taken to writing as serendipity taps the muse.
So, I hope you will check out Book to the Future and meet the intrepid Ste J, where as his banner states “more book than a mad ‘orse.”
Here begins a series of spotlights about blogs I follow. Maybe you’ll become a follower too!
When I first began blogging about two years ago I noticed a trio of bloggers who often stopped by my posts and left chatty comment bits. Quite encouraging and fun, actually. Think about it–we tip tap out our words, launch them out, and hope to spark some kind of response. Often off-the-cuff comments lead into revelations and further discussions.
Eagle- Eyed Editor has always encouraged me to dig a bit deeper by providing both thought provoking, as well as, humorous posts. Recipient of Freshly Pressed. Twice. Many of 3E’s posts concern the impact of social media. Try out this post.
I mentioned I would show the “Look Up” video to my students and pass on the response:
I decided not to show my freshmen the video since I didn’t think they would get or receive the message as well as my seniors; plus, I was rather annoyed with my freshmen by the end of the year with their constant need to peek at their phones during class. Confiscating phones became a sideline to teaching at a point. I should have asked for commission. Maybe that was their response: they have such an addiction to texting, snap chatting, and twittering that they can’t stop themselves even when the consequences are dear. In fact, some freshmen students are so addicted to their iDevices they can’t bear to be parted. This came to light when we were practicing our monthly required fire drill in May. We file out, I lock the door, we stand on the edge of the parking lot, wait for the all clear. Ten or fifteen minutes later, it’s a checklist item for admin. Purses, backpacks, coats, etc are all left behind. Not phones. “The room’s locked. We’ll be back in a couple of minutes.” A look of indecision and then a shake of the head, accompanied by clutching. “No, I must have my phone with me. I have to.” Is there a twelve step program for technology addiction?
Seniors were more blatant about their phone usage, but they were more compliant if I said “This is a no-device portion of class.” They understood time and place I blithely thought. Most of them used their phones and pads to actually look up meaningful additions to the learning process. Others didn’t. Really? Clash of Clans? From our saluatorian? Actually, I guess I was rather annoyed with my seniors by the end of the year as well. Perhaps this is why the “Look Up” video sparked the discussion that it did–they recognized the message because it was directed at many of them.
“Yet another example of how bad technology is for society,” one student stated, with thinly veiled sarcasm.
From across the room came the reply, “But if the technology weren’t there as a temptation people wouldn’t be tempted.
Across the room discussions rarely go well. Fortunately the bell rang, with the discussion still lingering as students trailed out, I would safely say there rang a truth some of my students were uncomfortable with: technology is an increasing demand on their lives, more than they care to admit.
So perhaps this generation, the one born with a device in one hand and a pacifier in the other, will swing the other way with their own children, like mine did concerning the tolerance of cigarettes and television, and decide “technology is detrimental to our well being.” I wonder will there be tech free zones established in the future? “No tech usage within 25 feet of building entrance.” “We’d like the tech-free section, please.” “I’ll have the tech-lite, please.”
Thanks again to Eagle Eyed Editor for providing blog posts which stimulate classroom discussions. I hope you will check out 3E’s blog–you won’t be disappointed.
The grandkiddo turned seven this year, part of the reason of the yearly sojourn. You see, my birthday is one day before hers. Someday this will take on greater significance, and I envision an annual midnight call between us to celebrate our birthday at the same moment.
While A.A. Milne celebrated being six
image: Wikipedia. Six has its tricks, yet seven is heaven-ly
I delight in finding so much changed after one year:
she can read to me!–“Please read me a book” is now a give and take opportunity for sharing the delights of reading
she is more reasonable–melt downs are infrequent now that logic is not such a foreign concept
she can ride a bike–tips and spills and “I’m tired!” aren’t even part of the lexcicon (perhaps one spill)
she can tolerate outings much better–“Are we there yet?” doesn’t much occur due to being occupied with a book
she is much more content to answers to questions involving “How come?” and “Why does?” because her understanding of the world is more complete
she likes jokes and riddles–a shared sense of humor is definitely a bonding bonus
she can carry on a conversation–there is actual dialogue instead of answering a stream of questions
she enjoys classic cartoons as much as I–Tom and Jerry, Bugs Bunny rock
she can go to bed a bit later–9 pm vacation bedtime doesn’t involve cranky kid syndrome the next day
However…
Seven is not quite a perfect number, although it is perfection in the making I notice these glitches:
loud and not-so-loud are not volume options: it’s pretty much tuned to loud
cause and effect aren’t quite connected synapses yet: such as jumping on the bed with possible breakables in the vicinity, like my headphones
full and empty are only relative terms when it comes to hunger
bored and engaged entail thinking and non-thinking strategies: iPads are handy but guilt-inducing babysitters
tone is important and attitude is quickly mimicked: in other words speak to them as I want to be spoken to
sarcasm is a learned nuance as is teasing: “Do you mean that for reals?”
sleeping in past 6:30 am is a foreign concept: okay, to be honest she at least waits for me to make a movement of waking up before pouncing on me with conversation (“DO you KNoW TIGERS haVe StRIPeS?”)
I project eight will be much different. Eight seems to be the new thirteen these days as I watch kids with iPads and iPhones in hand wander about. There is a savvy that is a bit disconcerting. I remain hopeful since the grandkiddo lives in a TV free household (amazing, I know) and has been mostly homeschooled so far.
For now I relish the nearly perfect age of seven. She still finds blowing bubbles a delight. I shall not worry yet when my love of parks and playgrounds and bubbles and cartoons become passe in her eyes.
image: flickerriver.com Looking out over the world from my penthouse view…
This week I am on my yearly sojourn of eldest progeny visitation. She now lives in a third floor apartment with a view of the neighborhood park–well, sideways squint from the bathroom window. There is no elevator. This is an o-l-d building. If I were a realtor I would employ the words “charming,” “has character,” “a link to the city’s past.” In other words, the stairs are steep and the hallways long, and the foyer smell is a bit aromatic. The apartment itself is charming with lots of light from the east, west, and southern exposure. Her last place was a basement studio. The window and light were practically non-existent. The landlords seem to be trying to update the building. There are mock wood floors, cream-colored stucco walls, deadbolts, and newish windows. They don’t quite close all the way but there is hope for a fix in the works.
After the fourth night of staying in a third floor walk up having lived in relatively ground level dwellings all my life, I have the following observations:
Costco shopping hauls are ludicrous because all that is bought can only be hauled if held in each hand
Always think about if you have everything before leaving the apartment
Should I take the garbage down?
Looking at life from a bird’s-eye view lends a pleasant start to the morning
Going outside for some fresh air takes on deeper meaning
The opportunity to develop voyeurism is tempting
Less is more when it comes to gathering possessions, since it all has to be moved down eventually
Having neighbors below makes one more sensitive to noise being made since we were once the neighbor below
Streetside parking involves intuition and strategy
Buns of steel and stamina are a bonus to the view
These observations might be different if the building had an elevator–then again the rent would probably be higher. There seems to be an irony here: most places charge more for the tippy-top real estate, then again elevators must be part of the equation.
Perhaps if I were in my formative years of twentyish ,a walk-up domicile with windows would be exciting. At present, I am learning an appreciation for my yard, driveway, and ability to amass belongings without too much consequence.
I agree with Juliet, “Parting is such sweet sorrow.” April is a busy, busy month with its heralding of spring, removal of snow tires, paying of taxes, celebrating Billy Bard’s birthday, prepping for AP exams, and musing upon poems. I started loading my April blog calendar back in December as I discovered poems and poets I would pre-schedule them and now the days are spent and I am a bit bereft as I head into May. Whatever shall I fill my May days with? It is ever so nice to have a theme for a month, like poetry for April. May will probably become my mish-mash month. I have several posties that I’ve been saving that don’t relate to anything except that I like them–sorta serendipity finds.
As I bid adieu to April I shall reflect:
Gathering poets for most of the year is akin to Saturday yard sale mornings as I scout for treasures to stuff in my bag
I appreciate poetry more and more as I become more and more involved with the reading of it
Having Billy Bard’s 450th birthday in the middle of National Poetry Month was absolute icing on the loveliest of cakes
Passing out poems to my students on April 24 for National Poem in Your Pocket Day is a blast–reactions range from excited anticipation of reading their poem to leaving them on the floor–which is about par for poetry (love it or leave it)
My school superintendent emailed me that I encouraged him to read a sonnet in my postscript to enjoy Shakespeare’s birthday
I decorated my hallway in recognition of Shakespeare’s birthday and convinced the journalism department to put it in the school’s daily video. Well, it’s not everyday a person is 450 years old…
I look forward to May. School is winding down, weather is heating up, and the countdown to summer break begins. Here is to May and all its blooming good days
Quick–what teacher did Conrad Aiken, T.S. Eliot, Robert Frost, and Wallace Stevens have in common? *Jeopardy muzak plays softly* If you answered George Santayana you either are a verse warrior or you clued in on the post title.
Santayana, a Spanish-born American, was a philosopher, essayist, novelist, teacher, and poet. Receiving his PhD from Harvard he joined the faculty in 1889. In 1912 he moved to Europe and must have liked it because he never returned to the states. Santayana, thought to be an important influences of critical realism, became part of what is known as the Classical American Philosophy. He died in 1952.
There may be chaos still around the world
by George Santayana
There may be chaos still around the world,
This little world that in my thinking lies;
For mine own bosom is the paradise
Where all my life’s fair visions are unfurled.
Within my nature’s shell I slumber curled,
Unmindful of the changing outer skies,
Where now, perchance, some new-born Eros flies,
Or some old Cronos from his throne is hurled.
I heed them not; or if the subtle night
Haunt me with deities I never saw,
I soon mine eyelid’s drowsy curtain draw
To hide their myriad faces from my sight.
They threat in vain; the whirlwind cannot awe
A happy snow-flake dancing in the flaw.
Unless I am way off base, I think this is the complex version of Bobby McFerrin’s hit ditty “Don’t Worry. Be Happy.” I hear in this poem how the world can be swirling and whirling about us, yet we can cocoon within ourselves and remain blissfully at peace. I prefer the happy llama mode: humming along in life.
Tomorrow is the deadline for the Writer’s Digest 15th Free Lucky Agent Contest.
Free definitely caught my attention. The fact that the contest is focusing on Young Adult helped motivate me to enter. Who could resist the prize:
Three winners will be awarded the following:
1) A critique of the first 10 double-spaced pages of their work, by the agent judge
2) A free one-year subscription to WritersMarket.com
The critique will be given by agent Andrea Somberg, a literary agent who represents various fiction and non-fiction projects including those aimed at young adult and middle grade audiences.
I selected one of my YA manuscripts, spent some time polishing it, and submitted it. It’s not too late! If you are a YA writer go to this link for my details.
Better known as a novelist, and perhaps as a scholar, Robert Penn Warren did provide some formidable poetry to ponder. You might be more familiar with his All the King’s Men, which garnered him the Pulitzer Prize in 1947, then his Pulitzer Prize collection Now and Then: Poems, 1976-1978. In all, he was awarded three Pulitzer Prizes, two being for poetry. His southern background influenced his writing, particularly leaning towards the agrarian appreciation of the land. Receiving accolades and honors throughout his career, Warren left a rich legacy of both prose and poetry.
Image of U.S. Poet Laureate Robert Penn Warren (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Vision by Robert Penn Warren
I shall build me a house shall build me a house where the larkspur blooms
In a narrow glade in an alder wood, Where the sunset shadows make violet glooms, And a whip-poor-will calls in eerie mood.
I shall lie on a bed of river sedge,
And listen to the glassy dark,
With a guttered light on my window ledge,
While an owl stares in at me white and stark.
I shall burn my house with the rising dawn,
And leave but the ashes and smoke behind,
And again give the glade to the owl and the fawn,
When the grey wood smoke drifts away with the wind.
Like Cather’s poetry about the prairie, Warren provides a strong connection to nature. His diction is amazing the way it influences the imagery: “violet glooms,” “guttered light,” “glassy dark”. I don’t even notice the rhyme, it’s so fluid. Whether they poem is taken for its metaphorical meaning or literal, it doesn’t matter to me–I simply want to savor it, rather than analyze it. Good writing is like a good sunset in that words aren’t always sufficient to explain why the beauty is so moving.
Pam Webb 