Pam Webb

a writer's journey as a reader

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30 Dec 2013
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Revisits and Rereads


Cover of "To Kill a Mockingbird: 50th Ann...

Cover via Amazon

It’s 5:45 a.m. and I’ve just finished re-reading Mockingjay. I checked it out a couple of days ago partly because I was surprised to see not one, but two copies on the shelf. I cancelled my hold request for Catching Fire as I reached the last chapter of the last book in this series.. How could I return to the middle after witnessing the end of Katniss’s journey?
I usually don’t reread books unless a long interval takes place–at least five years or more. To Kill a Mockingbird is the exception–then again, I teach that one and is less of a re-read than a re-visit at this point.

But let us turn from Mockingbirds back to Mockingjays:

As I eased the last page over and closed the book and suffer from that post traumatic feeling of “book done” I’m glad I’ve reread Mockingjay. The first time through was a done in a frenzy of page turning, and I missed so much. This time I have faces for the characters having watched the movies and the tangled relationships of Katniss take on a deeper meaning now.

It’s much the same when I revisit Scout —Mary Badham‘s freckled pageboy face is superimposed upon Harper Lee’s Scout, as she bildungsromans her way through childhood and racial injustice, let alone Southern discomforts of the 193os.

Someday I will return once again and reread the third and final adventure of Katniss. Although I definitely appreciated the Hunger Games trilogy, I doubt I will actually become as familiar with it as I have with To Kill a Mockingbird. Hmmm, I wonder if there is a connection between my fondness for these two lit ladies, one a Mockingbird and the other a Mockingjay.

Yes, there is: it’s called A Good Story.

So, Book Boosters–while you are dialed in–any novels or books you reread? Or perhaps revisit?

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Posted in Blogging, Books, Literature, Reading, Reflections, Uncategorized, writers and tagged , , , ,
27 Dec 2013
8 Comments

What We Say: #7


English: Bakers Oven Early 19th century shop a...

English: Bakers Oven Early 19th century shop and dwelling on the corner of Bailgate and Westgate (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

As we swing into the season of baking I thought this bit of idiom history would be of interest. Mmmm, coconut macaroon, anyone?
BAKER’S DOZEN: HISTORY
Once upon a time in long ago England bakers cheated. At least some of them did. Weighing out their goods some of these dishonest bakers would employ short weights which meant paying out more money when buying buns, breads, and cakes. The powers of weights and measures thought this quite wrong and decreed heavy penalties for bakers who practiced weighing short on their goods. Not wanting to incur the wrath of the law bakers decided to increase their popularity by giving away an extra when purchasing twelve. A baker’s dozen became a custom and carried over into modern times.
APPLICATION
Who doesn’t like getting an extra tasty bakery treat?
MY THOUGHTS
I’ve heard of bakers dozen used in many different ways–anywhere from describing that odd extra to receiving a freebie. I’m wondering how bakery goods were sold way back then if weighing were involved.  I like the per piece myself. “Wait, I’ll that one (the BIG cookie), yeah, that one right there.”
Posted in food, Uncategorized, Words and tagged , ,
17 Dec 2013
4 Comments

Leading Ladies of Fiction Faves


English: "How dare I, Mrs Reed? How dare ...

English: “How dare I, Mrs Reed? How dare I? Because it is the truth.” (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I’ve noticed the books that hit my fave list share a commonality: spunky female protagonists

Lizzie Bennet: right smart with her retorts, and loves her trots about the countryside

Jane Eyre: determined and no one is going to door mat her anytime soon

Scout Finch: gotta love a girl who reaches for her overalls in times of stress

Katniss Everdeen: archer supreme, survivor, yet has compassion

Mattie (True Grit): can talk her way into and out of most anything; didn’t let an encounter with a rattler get her down

Hattie (Hattie Big Sky): took on Montana homesteading by herself!

Little Sister (Laddie): I’m pretty sure she and Scout are kindred spirits

Laura Ingalls Wilder: “stout as a Welsh pony”–that’s high praise

Antonia (My Antonia): sassy survivalist of the prairie

These ladies come from different time periods, different backgrounds, and different families, yet they all share the qualities of pluck.  Pluck never goes out of style, at least not in novels.

Got any favorites from the list?  Maybe you can share your own

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08 Dec 2013

A Balm for Katniss


The Hunger Games (film)

The Hunger Games (film) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

As much I relish the Hunger Games series being brought to the big screen, there is one aspect of the story that continues to hamper my true enjoyment the progression of the series: the bleak monotony of despair.
Throughout the books, and in the film, all the main characters live in the clutches of fear. Fear of starvation, punishment, pain, and death all permeate the plot and are the motivators for the characters.
Something is needed to relieve the continual roller-coaster of despair and it isn’t going to come sailing down in a little tinkling parachute.
Prim hits on what’s needed at one point in the plot when she answers Katniss’s inquiry of what’s different now (Catching Fire) than before (Hunger Games): “Hope.”
And this is true–without hope there is despair.
Suzanne Collins creates an atmosphere of despair by utilizing Roman rule elements when she created the setting of the Hunger Games. It’s the plebeians versus the patricians complete with coliseum games as an opiate for the masses. One aspect which is not included in the Hunger Games is that many of the coliseum participants were Christians imprisoned by Roman rule. The emperors were threatened by this new religion because a new King threatened their rule: Jesus of Nazareth. He gave the people hope, something Roman rulers could not.

Jesus of Nazareth (miniseries)

Jesus of Nazareth (miniseries) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

While hope is offered in the latest installment of the Hunger Games trilogy, there is a missing component which is so vital to completing hope’s salve to the wounds of despair: faith.
There is no religion, no deity, no promise of afterlife in the series, which is why despair and oppression permeate the mood of the story.
If possible, I would send Katniss a balm of hope in order to instill the need of faith that there is a better Way. Psalm 27 seems to be one parachute I could send.

Anyone out there have their own balm of hope they might send?

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01 Dec 2013
9 Comments

The Autumn of My Discontent


The Idaho Territory in 1863. © 2004 Matthew Tr...

The Idaho Territory in 1863. © 2004 Matthew Trump Idaho territory in 1864 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The toughest part about writing a historical novel is research. I am discovering researching is becoming as addictive as dark chocolate Dove bites. I can’t seem to stop once I start.

For instance, having characters taking a walk in winter is not a simple undertaking. The month, year, and locale all become significant. There is also clothing considerations, appropriate interactions, and possible terrain aspects.
I ran into this when I decided the sisters would walk outside with two brothers after a neighborly get together. I scampered to my files to find if young people did indeed walk unchaperoned, if  the area had some snow–or too much. Which leads to clothing, which leads to age appropriate mannerisms, which leads to..

It’s If You Give a Mouse a Cookie syndrome–one aspect leads to another. I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed at this point.

Yet, here’s the problem–I’m too far into the novel to abandon it (again). I have this quirk about finishing projects. Especially when I get encouragement from agents, editors, friends, and critique circlers to finish it.

When I do feel bogged down in detail I turn to my inspirational muse, Hattie Big Sky by Kirby Larson. She won the Newberry Honor for her novel about a sixteen year old girl who inherits her uncle’s Montana homestead claim. It’s a dazzler for historical detail, characterization, and overall verisimilitude. It flows with imagery, sparkles with plot points, and it’s based on her great grandmother’s homesteading adventures. It’s becoming a favorite yearly read.

As inspiring as Larson’s Hattie is, I’ve unfortunately hit that dratted writing wall. Right now I’m stuck between seasons. What would my homesteaders be doing in autumn? Winter and Spring are covered. October and November? Hmmm…

I can see why fantasy novels are popular–creating worlds has got to be easier than traipsing backward to figure out what’s already taken place in ours.

Any Idaho historians out there?

Posted in America, creativity, Uncategorized, Writing and tagged , , , ,
24 Nov 2013
5 Comments

Titular Epiphanies


Foto einer Glühbirne (an),

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Sometimes I am embarrassed how lacking in literary enlightenment I really am. Here I am writer, reviewer, teacher, Book Booster extreme and I have to hang my head in embarrassment about my novel naiveté. Honestly, dunce cap time.

This has happened before, but really hit hard recently. Not once, but twice.

What do you notice about these two books?

  • author?
  • attractive illustration?
  • title?

All of these probably grab our attention. Granted there are different covers available, but the author and title remain the same.  Why then did it take me three or so reads, spread out over a few years, to finally get that light bulb-over-the-head moment of “OMY! This is what the title REALLY means?  Does it mean I’m dense or does it mean I’m getting my bearings as a reader finally?

With Room With a View I boldly (I mean in like SHaAZaM) I realized Lucy sees people as rooms, and how some people, like some rooms, provide a view or not. Views are important if you are going to spend time in them. Ditto for people.  It wasn’t about Italy. At least, not as much as I first thought. Silly, silly me.

Then we come to My Antonia. Such a magical book, how it transports me to the prairie pioneer era. Yes, it’s about Jim’s fond recollection of his childhood friend Antonia (that My part in the title)–but then the KA-TinK of the light chain which illuminates the additional meaning–Antonia is a metaphor for all those indomitable women of the prairie.  She is the collective My that Willa Cather so adeptly presented to readers in her trilogies and short stories.

Sigh. It’s a good thing I teach literature, because I still have a lot to learn. Because they so wisely say the best way to learn something is to teach it.  Now, I’m wondering how many other literary epiphanies are waiting for me on the shelf. I hope they aren’t giggling at me.  Maybe those are just giggles of anticipation as they await to pop up and say “SurPriSE!”

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Posted in Books, education, Literature, Reading, Reflections, Teachers, Uncategorized, writers and tagged , ,
20 Nov 2013
2 Comments

Dear Mr. Knightley


While the title sounds like yet another Jane Austen spin-off, Dear Mr Knightley, is actually an updated version of the classic epistolary coming-of-age novel, Daddy Long Legs by Jean Webster. Debut author, Katherine Reay, openly has the character borrowing both from Austen and Webster, which is either annoying or endearing. It’s the reader’s choice.  And that’s what the storyline becomes: annoying at times, yet also endearing at other times. It’s annoying to continually have Austen and company quotes tossed about throughout the storyline, yet, on the other hand, it’s also endearing to have a character who relies on literature as a means of survival. One of the stumbling blocks in determining audience appeal is pinpointing whether this is a YA novel or not. Although the protagonist is in her twenties, her lack of confidence and bevvy of relationship problems produce a character voice of someone closer to high school age. As for the storyline itself, there is intrigue and momentum as the plot eventually reveals the identity of Mr. Knightley.

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image: GoodReads.com

Young protagonist Samantha Moore, has bounced in and out of foster care when younger, but life becomes better when she becomes a recipient of a foundation grant allowing her to enroll in a prestigious journalism program. One of the stipulations is keeping her mysterious benefactor, Mr Knightley, apprised of her academic progress. Straight up missives about tough professors would be boring, of course. Instead, through her correspondence with Mr Knightley, we learn all about Sam–her inability to have meaningful relationships, her doubts, her fears, her failings, her victories, and finally her accomplishments.
While the  beginning is a bit rough, the middle makes up for it. But the ending–though fitting for the plot direction, is a bit unrealistic. Then again, happy endings are one reason we select escape reading. And it is easy to escape into Dear Mr. Knightley–who wouldn’t want a mysterious benefactor, one who listens silently and produces a magic wand at the right moment to make life a bit easier?
Fans of Austen and other classics will relish the quotes liberally decorating the story throughout. And those who want a light romance with a hint of mystery will appreciate the story as well.

Disclosure of Material Connection: This book was provided, by BookSneeze®, in exchange for an honest review. No other compensation was received.

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09 Nov 2013
3 Comments

Committed to Poetry or Was that Commentary of Poetry?


English: Former United States Poet<br /><br /> Laureate (2... Admit it–we like poetry
because for the most part it’s a quick commitment. Two to five
minutes we get our emotions stirred, we open up our imagery files,
and we tuck away a line to ruminate on.  This is not cynicism,
merely observation. We love, love, love poetry more than we love,
love, love short stories. At least, this is what I am beginning to
surmise as I dole out literary experiences to high school students.
Since I’ve been English literature teachering for the past
decade, I have discovered poetry is amazingly versatile in its
ability to stir up passion in students.  Students  run
the Richter scale of response of “Just hand me a dull spoon so I
can dig out my eyeball” (LOL–actual quote from a senior) to
“Poetry! I love poetry! Can we write our own poems!” (yet, another
true quote). There doesn’t seem to be much of the middle roading
when it comes to reading or writing poetry. Why is that, I wonder?
My students aren’t sure either.  Somewhere between Shel Silverstein and Shakespeare
sonnets the love of verse becomes irrevocably squashed.
I think Billy Collins presented oh so well:

Introduction To Poetry

I ask them to take a poem and hold it up to the light
like a color slide

or press an ear against its
hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem

and watch him probe his way out,

or walk inside the poem’s
room

and feel the walls for a light
switch.

I want them to
waterski

across the surface of a

poem

waving at the author’s name on the

shore.

But all they
want to do

is tie the poem to a chair with
rope

and torture a confession out of
it.

They begin beating it with a
hose

to find out what it really
means.

Thank you,
Billy. I am trying to convert my rubber hose approach into one of
ski rope handles.
One of my goals as a teacher is to inject the love of
words into my students.  I want them to turn to poems like
they do to their tunes.  After all, song lyrics are mostly
poetry with infused music.  Once students realize that if they
actually unplugged their buds long enough to actually read
their play list lyrics out loud they will see all those
literary terms of assonance, imagery, rhythm, rhyme, simile,
allusion floating around.
I try not to have them beat the stuffing out of
poems.  I much prefer them waterski and wave in
acknowledgement as we launch out on poetry’s
waters.  Grooving on poetry is, I hope contagious. My
excitement at reading a really marvelous poem out loud causes me to
have physical reactions.  The other day I read Seamus Heaney‘s “Digging.”

English: Picture of the Irish poet and Nobel P...

English: Picture of the Irish poet and Nobel Prize winner Seamus Heaney at the University College Dublin, February 11, 2009. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests; snug as a gun.

Under my window, a clean rasping sound

When the spade sinks into gravelly ground:
My father, digging. I look down

Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds
Bends low, comes up twenty years away
Stooping in rhythm through potato drills
Where he was digging.

 

The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft
Against the inside knee was levered firmly.
He rooted out tall tops, buried the bright edge deep
To scatter new potatoes that we picked,
Loving their cool hardness in our hands.
By God, the old man could handle a spade.
Just like his old man.
My grandfather cut more turf in a day
Than any other man on Toner’s bog.
Once I carried him milk in a bottle
Corked sloppily with paper. He straightened up
To drink it, then fell to right away
Nicking and slicing neatly, heaving sods
Over his shoulder, going down and down
For the good turf. Digging.
The cold smell of potato mould, the squelch and slap
Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge
Through living roots awaken in my head.
But I’ve no spade to follow men like them.

Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests.
I’ll dig with it.

 

When I finished reading the poem
out loud I sucked in my breath and danced a bit in
place, so moved was I with Heaney’s wordsmithing.  My AP
students benignly tolerate my antics. I’m hoping my
unfettered appreciation will one day stir them  into
showing me their unabashed admiration.
Considering I had minimal
exposure to poetry during my own K-12 school days, and didn’t
really discover its merits until college, I am continually amazed
at its power to stir my emotions.  I valiantly want to pass on
this joy to my students and even before the Common Core required a
unit on poetry, I taught it anyway.
My commitment to poetry is my
commentary on how words artfully placed meaningfully lend a
dimension to our lives that makes us linger to inhale the
fragrance of as Coleridges states, “the best words in the best
order.”
Do you have
any poems that cause you to dance a bit in place when you read
them? Oh, do share.
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Posted in education, Poetry, Reflections, Teachers, Uncategorized, Writing and tagged , , , , ,
02 Nov 2013
2 Comments

NaNo oh oh


November is such an incredibly packed month:

  • post first quarter grades
  • plan second quarter lessons
  • parent teacher conferences
  • vote when applicable
  • Thanksgiving
  • No Shave November

oh oh somewhere in there is NaNoWriMo

If I were truly a dedicated NaNoian this should have been my first NaNo post. Well, not wanting to be too crazy this year, I’ve decided not to NaNo in 2013. I have previously NaNoed and have the completion certificate hanging on the wall. I even have bounced the manuscript out to a couple of editors and agents.

This year, however, instead of something new I shall continue with my vow of completion commitment. No more new starts until finishing half-started projects–umm, those of merit.  Some projects should keep on hibernating for both our sakes.

Yes, I am intent on finishing the middle grade historical novel I’ve been working on for the last ten years. I know, that’s an awfully long time, especially when in just a month’s time I cranked out a YA novel a couple of years. Contemporary fiction , I’ve discovered, is so much easier than writing  middle reader historical fiction. researching for a historical novel is one big onion of peel and write. As soon as I peel back one layer of information another layer is revealed.  Yes, peeling historical onions do make me cry. Getting facts straight, setting up proper verisimilitude, along with creating catchy characters, scintillating setting, and convincing complications, conflict, and climax is tough stuff. At least for me. I’m determined to finish this odyssey of a pioneer tale I started, especially when I’ve had an agent express interest.

Sooo, Na No not now, but thanks for the invite. This year my RSVP box is checked “next year, perhaps.”

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11 Oct 2013
9 Comments

How Not To Write Now


 

Writers, yes you. Why are you reading this post? Wait, don’t go quite yet. While you’re here you might as well avoid that write now feeling a bit longer.

 
Write now?

 
Yes, write now. I should be, and you should be writing right now instead of avoidance tactics. Oh yes, they exist. Beats me why I will suddenly germinate 50 + 1 excuses to avoid sitting down and getting down to business. It’s really no excuse that I have excuses because I have plenty of motivation. Look at this incentive list:

 

  • The novel is almost finished.

 

  • My writing group likes it.

 

  • A New York editor critique it favorably.

 

  • An agent from the same conference asked for sample chapters because she has clients looking for this genre.

 

  • I still like the manuscript, even after years of research, rewrites, and still more rewrites.

 

So why avoid writing right now?

 
Because…
I have to eat breakfast and since I’m really craving granola to go with the new lemon vanilla Greek yogurt I just bought I need to make a fresh batch and while I’m waiting for the granola to bake I might as well scrub the stove top, the Faberware pot, the sink, and start the dishwasher. I should check the woodstove–might need a poke or a new log. I should sweep up around the hearth, maybe sweep in general. I’ll get these papers out of the way, wait these are bills–I should sit down and pay these. But first I should check the granola.

 
Before you tsk at my total lack of discipline I did fire up the laptop with good intentions.

 

But, you know how it is…

 

Emails have to be checked, lesson plans filed, the classroom website updated. Check the granola again.

 
So–
The morning has slipped into early afternoon, which is not my best time of creativity, since I am a morning energy person. I best take a nap and recharge the mental batteries.

 

Two hours later…

 

The MEPA brought home a new batch of movies from the library and I haven’t spent much time with him today. He wants to know how the novel is progressing. Right now? Yes, I should write now.

 

P.S.

 

Later that night…

 

Five chapters roughed in (what revision number is this again?) and I squeezed in a movie. It’s amazing what a little fresh granola can do for the creative muse.

 

A bowl of granola.

A bowl of granola. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

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