The Life of a Book

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Happy “Paperback Birthday” to ONE FOR THE MURPHYS by Lynda Mullaly Hunt.  The hard cover version has had a wonderful year, and I wish its paperback little sister even more success!

Turning “soft” is part of the natural life-cycle of a book, but it is only a small portion of its Life.  We all have favorite stories that have wormed their way into our hearts, and influence our daily lives through conversation, quotes, or contemplations.  How an audience reacts to a story, and what they take from it and keep for themselves, is something no author can predict.

Pardon today’s reblog, then, about one small moment in the Life of ONE FOR THE MURPHYS, after it left the author’s desk.  We write stories for many reasons, but in the end, we hope that someone will read them and connect to what we’ve written.  I hope this particular copy reached its intended audience!  Read on, Macduff:

Book Bravo: One For the Murphys

POSTED ON MAY 17, 2012 BY 

 

We’ve all been there.  You can tell the moment you answer the door that this person is there to sell you something.  Usually magazines.  Sometimes new windows.  Or the deal of a lifetime on a lawn care system.  Almost always, I’m pretty militant about sending them on their way.  I don’t even open the door, just shout a hearty, “NOT INTERESTED, THANK YOU!” and watch them fumble with their pamphlets as I move back into the safety of my house.
But today was different.  For one thing, I was outside, weeding.  Nowhere to hide.  For another thing, the woman who approached me (for the record, yes – she was selling magazines) started with her life story instead of her sales pitch.  Or maybe that was her sales pitch.  Who knows.  But whatever it was, today was different.

“I never thought I’d be going door to door,” she told me, after introducing herself.  She said she was in a job training program through a nationwide organization (that much, I later confirmed, was legit).
“I’m working hard to finish this program and prove to the state that I am stable enough to get my kids back.”  Uh-huh, okay, what are you selling, and how much is it going to cost me? Still, there was something in her eyes.  She looked so tired.  I stood up, brushed off my knees, and moved toward her.  Maybe her story was real, maybe not.  Without a door to shut between us, I figured the least I could do was make eye contact with her.

Then she seemed to deviate from her script.  She told me she had recently been hospitalized after being beaten by her long-time boyfriend.  She kicks herself for not listening to her 12-year-old daughter who begged her to leave him.  And she was working hard to get her life in order so that she could get her kids out of the foster care system, where they’d been ever since the beating.

This is where the hairs on my arms and neck stood up.  Sadly, I know this is not an uncommon story. However, the particular familiarity of it was freaking me out.  I felt like one of the characters in Lynda Mulally Hunt’s newly published One For the Murphys (Penguin/Nancy Paulsen Books) was standing in my driveway and talking to me.
Here is an overview of the story (From Barnes and Noble, One For the Murphys):
“A moving debut novel about a foster child learning to open her heart to a family’s love.  Carley uses humor and street smarts to keep her emotional walls high and thick. But the day she becomes a foster child, and moves in with the Murphys, she’s blindsided. This loving, bustling family shows Carley the stable family life she never thought existed, and she feels like an alien in their cookie-cutter-perfect household. Despite her resistance, the Murphys eventually show her what it feels like to belong—until her mother wants her back and Carley has to decide where and how to live. She’s not really a Murphy, but the gifts they’ve given her have opened up a new future.”

So yeah, my hair stood on end.  The book moved me, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it’s story and message.  In the story, Carley learns that you can lean on good people to help you in a bad situation.  Something about the similarity between Mullaly Hunt’s tale and the one this woman was sharing with me made me listen to her, instead of brushing her off.  Maybe I’m a schmuck.  But just in case, when I went inside for my checkbook, I also picked up a signed copy of the book I had gotten at a recent Wellesley Books event.  I gave it to the woman, and wrote her daughter’s name inside.  When I explained the premise of the book, the woman said she couldn’t imagine how her daughter would feel reading it, knowing she is not alone.

        Then she said, “I wish I had had a book like this, when I was young.  My brothers went to Gramma’s, but I was too little, and went to foster care.”  How would her life have been different if she’d had Gilly Hopkins (from Katherine Paterson’s The Great Gilly Hopkins) as a childhood companion?
        So maybe I’m a shmuck.  Or maybe there is a little girl out there who is hurting, scared, and confused, and will be able to read One for the Murphys and know she is not alone, and that good, caring people do exist, and sometimes they are all you need to get by.
        Well done to Lynda Mulally Hunt for the perfectly paced writing in this fantastic novel.  The characters are real, flawed, and quirky, just like you and me.  I highly recommend this book for girls age 9-13, or anyone who loves a good hero story.  You will be enlightened and enriched.

Escaping Your Comfort Zone

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I love the padded walls of my comfort zone.  When I leave it, it is usually with a lot of kicking and screaming and fanfare.  Sometimes nausea.  Funny, then, how much I absolutely love encouraging other people get out of theirs.  You should have seen my boundless confidence as I goaded my friend and fellow writer Michele Manning to take advantage of the “open mic” forum at a recent conference.  I kept thinking, she’s got this, she’s got this, she’s going to be great!  Easy for me to say, all I had to do was sit in the audience and cheer like crazy.

IMG_1522     But she did have it! She rocked the mic.  AND, after her reading, a person in the audience came up to express how much the words had meant to her.  Success!  There was something so magical in the moment, because even though Michele looks so cool, calm, and collected in this picture, I think inside she was feeling more like this:
This is me out of my comfort zone, freaking out on a kiddie roller coaster.

This is me out of my comfort zone, freaking out on a kiddie roller coaster.

     It’s rare and exhilarating to witness the actual moment when someone steps outside the box to carpe diem.  But watching and doing are two different things!  If you’re like me, you loooove to stay in the box, enveloped in a thick, cozy blanket of calm.  It’s nice there.  Of course you want to stay!  But hidden away, you’ll never have the chance to let your true talent rise.
     Long ago, I heard the “analogy of the coral reef”.  On a reef, the lee (calm) side is white, hard, and lifeless.  But the side of the reef that bears all the pounding waves is constantly changing, and teeming with diverse life and vibrant colors.
Isn't change pretty?

Isn’t change pretty?

It’s nice to rest on the quiet side sometimes, but don’t forget how great it can be out where the waves crash over you, where you experience real change and growth.  Spend enough time out of the box, and you just might begin to:
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I’m grateful for the people in my life who keep pushing me to do more, try more, and be more.  If you ever need a cheerleader, send me a note.  I’ll be ready with my pom-poms!
     ****NOTE:
Many great stories come from the idea of a character struggling to get out of their own comfort zones so that they can grow and change.  One that I recently enjoyed, which is written for the Middle Grade crowd but can be enjoyed by any age, is A CROOKED KIND OF PERFECT by Linda Urban.  Warning:  you may experience “Neil Diamond song stuck in your head-itis” after reading.  Check it out!
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Hey, Mikey! He likes it!

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Breaking news:  Boy reads book without pictures or potty humor – and likes it!  “I think this is going to be my new favorite series,” says Boy, age 9. “I’m excited because [the book] actually took me longer than a day to read.”

Related news:  Mom is knocked over by feather; faints.

What is this magic that has entered my home and swept away my son and his imagination? Friends, I give you:

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From the jacket flap: “Jennifer A. Nielsen has woven a heart-racing tale full of danger and bold adventure, lies and deadly truths that will keep readers on the edge of their seats.”  True, all of it, true!

I have written in the past about my struggle to find the right books for my capable but reluctant reader.  Since my son was between books (because, you know, everything he ‘liked’ took him less than a day to read), I suggested we start this one together.

“No thanks,” he said, looking at the cover and not seeing any underpants.

“Okay, well, I’m going to read chapter one right now.  Why don’t you come sit next to me and just give a listen?  You can leave whenever you want,” I said.  (There may have been a sleeve of Girl Scout cookies near me as well, but I swear I didn’t mean it as a bribe).

He begrudgingly agreed.  On page 2, I read, “The butcher gave me one final kick in the side, then leaned low toward me. ‘If you ever come into my shop again, I’ll cut you up and sell you as meat at the market.  Got it?’”   That’s when my son sat up a little straighter and said, “Oh.  This is a really good book.”

And that is how our adventure with THE FALSE PRINCE began.  The story, the first in Nielsen’s Ascendance Trilogy, is a medieval adventure with swords, plot twists, dungeons, and more plot twists.  It had been awhile since I’d read something aloud to my son, and it was so fun to share our reactions when surprises popped up.  In the end, he finished reading the book on his own because he couldn’t wait for the next bedtime to keep reading the story.

This type of fantasy/adventure is not typically a genre I gravitate to, but in this case, I’m so glad I did.  (Special thank you to Librarian Friend #2 for the loan).  I highly recommend THE FALSE PRINCE to any writers looking for good examples of world-building.  Nielsen hits the mark with this one.

Additional related news:  Mom trips over self on the way to the bookstore to purchase Book Two of the Ascendance Trilogy, THE RUNAWAY KING.

Putting on Your Oxygen Mask

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We all know the familiar refrain: “In the event of an emergency, put on your own oxygen mask first.”  As parents, or caregivers of any kind, we’re often reminded of this adage and encouraged to take time for ourselves; to pay attention to our own needs, so that we can have energy for the long haul.

If you’re reading this and nodding along in agreement, pat yourself on the back!  But when was the last time you really, really, took some time for yourself?  I thought I had been doing a pretty good job of grabbing for that mask.  I had graduated from trips to the store on Saturdays (without kids!) to overnights and even occasional hurried weekends away with friends, or my sister, or my husband (again, no kids!).

But never have I taken such an extreme hit of direct oxygen as I did recently at When Words Count Retreat in Rochester, VT.  Four days.  Three nights.  Nothing to do but write, eat, sleep, and enjoy the company of other writers.  For real.  No hitch.

I'm Writing. Please do not disturb.

I’m Writing. Please do not disturb.  A.k.a.: I’m dreaming.  Pinch me.

There were several wonderful things about this place that deserve to be gushed about.  Each morning I woke to the smell of someone else cooking breakfast.  Each noon, a gentle bell would call to tell me lunch had been prepared.  Each evening, cocktails and hors d’oeuvres preceded gourmet sit-down meals which I enjoyed with my fellow writers (almost all were children’s authors – thank you, providence!) as well as the gracious and welcoming hosts of the retreat, Steve Eisner and Jon Reisfeld.  After dinner we shared our work, fireside, during hash sessions in the Gertrude Stein salon.

My use of the word ‘gourmet’ is not hyperbole.

The loose structure of the days allowed for generous, decadent chunks of time to write.  And to be alone.  Alone.  My thoughts.  My sleep.  My walks down the lane.  My views of the triumphant Green Mountains, struggling to grasp spring.  Me! Me, me, me, me, MINE ALL MINE!  I was a self-centered toddler, and I didn’t have to share a single thing.  It was amazing and liberating. I was grateful and thankful.

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I don’t take lightly all the work that was being done back at home so I could experience this bliss. In fact, I’m kind of proud of the fact that it took three grown people, (plus a neighbor with a house key) to cover for me in my absence.  And I’m grateful for the warm home life I’ve returned to.  It’s just so much easier to appreciate all I have now that I’m breathing deeply and clearly again.  As life sneaks back in and starts to tap away at the heavenly shell that WWC Retreat coated me in, I’ll be so glad that I took the oxygen when I could get it.

Now, what have YOU done for YOU lately??

For more information on the When Words Count Retreat experience, click the highlighted link above.  If you are a writer, run, do not walk, to your calendar and start dreaming about and planning a trip here!

Poem In Your Pocket Day

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Head’s up!   Thursday, April 18th, 2013 is Poem In Your Pocket day!  Originally started by the New York City Departments of Cultural Affairs and Education,  in partnership with the Office of the Mayor, PIYPD was launched in 2002 as part of the city’s National Poetry Month Celebration.  Then, in 2008, the Academy of American Poets got involved to make the day a national event.  

Each year on Poem in Your Pocket Day, people are encouraged to select a poem they love, then make copies of it to share with co-workers, students, family members, strangers…anyone!  

I first head about PIYPD from a friend, who works as the director of recreation in a small town in CT.  Several years ago, a couple of young women came in to the town offices, and handed out poems that were “small enough to fit in your pocket.”  My friend chatted with them and thanked them for the poem.  After they left, she looked down to see that the poem they had given her was written by my brother-in-law, the poet Jason Tandon.  Small world, small poems, big fun!  

I hope you’ll consider finding (or writing!) your own poem to share this year.

Here’s a nice pocket-size poem by Jason Tandon, from his upcoming collection Quality of Life ( Black Lawrence Press, May, 2013):  Your Voice.

I’m planning on handing out copies of one of my favorite poems to people I see walking their dogs on April 18th.  Here is a lovely audio of Garrison Keillor reading Jason Tandon’s :  Cleaning Up After the Dog.

And because my inner writer sometimes plays around with poetry, here’s one from me:  

Aisle 12 

Under the fluorescent din

I scan the bags for a salty, crunchy escape

You trap me to tell me that their pretzels are better, and

I shouldn’t get the ones you are stocking, because

Screw them,

Screw them.

You lean in to tell me

What was 3% is now .75, and who is supposed to live on that?

I don’t know what that means,

But I know disgruntled when it grunts.

I picture you at home that evening,

Honey I really stuck it to them today

So pleased that you got some lady in yoga pants to buy the other brand.

And as you’re gloating

That same lady is whetting her salt-puckered pretzel lips

With a nice Cabernet,

Because all I wanted was a snack.

 

What is it about underpants?

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I’ve been reluctant to admit that I am raising a reluctant reader.  At two months old, my kid was bapping the pages of board books to turn them faster than I could read.  Look at that, I thought smugly… So clever! As a kindergartener, he would follow along when his older sister poured over early readers, and blurt out words if she stopped to sound them out.  I’d look over at my husband and arch my eyebrows as if to say, Pretty good, eh?  

As he advanced in grades, reading remained a strength.  I thought that “getting my boy to read”  was one of those battles I wouldn’t have to fight.  I made the mistake of assuming that because he was able to read, he would want to read whatever I got for him from the library, book store, community book sale, you name it.  So many great books!  Hey, MANIAC MAGEE by Jerry Spinelli, he’ll love that!  Oooh…TREASURE ISLAND, what boy could resist?

"No thanks"

“No thanks”

But time and again, my son would look at the cover of a book, read the first paragraph, then shrug his shoulders and pass the book back to me, saying, “no thanks.”  The latest blow came after I’d made a special trip to a fantastic indie bookstore.  Carefully, I selected Gary Paulsen’s HATCHET.  Cool title.  Invokes violence.  He’ll bite.  

“No thanks.”

A week after that I was at a big box store and saw a stout volume of the first three books (Super Burp, Trouble Magnet, and World’s Worst Wedgie) in the George Brown, Class Clown series by Nancy Krulik.  Nearby was book #7 in the series: the picture on the front was of a boy in underpants, of the tighty-whitey variety.  My son had loved that other famous Captain of the unmentionables, so I sighed and put the collection of the first three stories in my loaded cart.  It just wasn’t what I would pick.

That night I handed it to him the way you would hand a banana to a hungry ape.  Hoping it will satisfy.  He checked out the cover, and nodded seriously.  He opened the front page and read one, two, three, paragraphs.  He looked up at me, and clutching the book to his chest, said, “YES.  This is the perfect book.  This is the kind of book you should be getting me.”

"Yes please"

“Yes please”

I hadn’t even realized I how harshly I was judging the underpants, diaries, and other graphic novels he gravitated to.  There is a place for stories that simply seek to be silly and fun.  And apparently one of those places is on my son’s nightstand. I had to just get over myself and my vision of what were the right books. The right book, it turns out, is any one that makes a kid run up to his room after school so he can get back to the story.

I have to remind myself that maturity level and style of humor have a lot to do with what works right now.  I haven’t given up on to Treasure Island, Maniac Magee, or Jerry Spinelli.  But for the time being, here are some that have worked for us:

1) George Brown, Class Clown (Series by Nancy Krulik) “Mom, did you know a lady wrote this?”  Yes, and I thank her!

2) Captain Underpants (Series by Dav Pilkey) “I love letting the funny seep into me.”

3) Diary of a Wimpy Kid (Series by Jeff Kinney) The “Do-It-Yourself” books in this series have the added benefit of encouraging creative writing.

4) Horrible Harry (Series by Suzy Kline)

5) The Strange Case of Origami Yoda, Darth Paper Strikes Back, and The Secret of the Fortune Wookie, all by Tom Angleberger.  Bonus side effect of son taking an interest in origami.  (At least when the end result is a Star Wars character).

There are many other fantastic graphic novels out there that are kid favorites.  If you have suggestions that have worked for the reluctant reader in your life, I’d love to hear them!

 

Feelin’ and Spreadin’ the Love

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Happy Valentine’s Day!  Did you know it’s also International Book Giving Day?  IBGD is a “volunteer initiative aimed at increasing children’s access to and enthusiasm for books.”  What’s better than sharing book love?

The initiative suggests spreadin’ the love in one of these three ways:

1. Give a Book to a Friend or Relative.
2. Leave a Book in a Waiting Room or Lobby.
3. Donate a Book.  
There are so many good programs working to get books into the hands of kids who would otherwise not have access to them, including:
As for me, I’ll be leaving a fresh copy of BOY + BOT by Ame Dyckman (illustrated by Dan Yaccarino) in a local pediatrician’s office.
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My favorite part of this book is when Bot finds Boy sleeping, and he thinks Boy is sick.  He takes the boy home where he gives him oil, reads him an instruction manual, and tries to change his battery.  I think kids headed into a check-up at the doctor’s will get a kick out of this.
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The International Book Giving Day’s website has a lot of other great ideas for giving.   They also have fun bookplates, some designed by big names in the biz, which you can download for free.  I chose one by Debbie Ridpath Ohi, (illustrator of the new picture book, I’M BORED!):
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I’m all for flowers and chocolate, but if my husband gave me a bouquet of a dozen books, that would be an amazing valentine!  Hope you all get to share and feel some love today.

Sentimental Sucker!

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There is a television commercial from the mid-80s for Folgers Coffee that still runs (now in an updated form) around the holidays.  The scene opens in the morning, with a college-aged guy entering a quiet home.  The youngest family member wakes up, and after a happy hug, the two of them head to the kitchen to brew coffee.  Steam lifts through the sun rays that pour through the window.  Mom and Dad and older sis smell the coffee and come downstairs…only to be overwhelmed by emotion when they see… “Peter!!”

It gets me every time.  Every.  Single.  Time.  I get all verklempt and the tears come, because Peter is home for Christmas, and they just weren’t expecting him.  But after 20 years, shouldn’t I be expecting him?  Why does this TV commercial still make me cry?

It’s because I want it to.  I am a sucker when it comes to being entertained.  Give me a good sob story, and I’m hooked.  Even when I know I’m going to be a mess, I read or watch on.  The dialogue in my head goes something like: “this is going to be really, really sad.  I should turn this off.  I should stop reading this.  I’m going to be so sad!  I’m going to cry.  Really, I need to put this book down!”  But I persist.

Some authors are particularly good at reeling me in (my first sob-out-loud read was THE BRIDGE TO TERABITHIA by Katherine Paterson).  I’ll never forget how heartbroken I felt.  What power storytellers have!

One of my recent favorite authors in the “I am going to make you do the ugly cry” category is John Green.  I know I am a bit late to the “I love John Green” party, but maybe you are too.   He is a talented author of young adult fiction.  I decided to read THE FAULT IN OUR STARS after seeing it on numerous award lists.

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Well, from the first scene, you know you are going to be sad.  I mean, the book starts at a support group for kids with cancer.  It’s not like the author is trying to be sneaky; you know where this is going, right?  But you read on.  Knowing it will be painful and tear-filled, he reels you in with his delightful way with words and characters you want invite over for dinner.

Many writers say it’s hard to know how to react when people say things like, “I loved your book!  It made me bawl my eyes out.”  Ummm…sorry?  The truth is, those writers should feel free to say thanks, because deep down we want them to break out hearts.

Whether I know what’s coming or it’s a complete surprise, get me crying and I’ll love you for it.

And because I know you too, dear reader, will fall for it, click here to have Peter come into your home:

Folgers Peter Commercial.

You’re welcome!

Deliberate Kindness

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The holidays were different this year; more poignant, less frenzied.  As a mother of elementary school-aged kids living in Connecticut, it was impossible not to feel the wave of sadness emanating from Newtown.  The holiday-cheer-status-quo was elusive,  knowing that just miles away, so many families would never have a “status quo” again.

To help peel myself out of the darkness that seemed to be consuming me, I dug deep into family, and wrapped hugs around me like blankets. I also began to look around for “good news.”  It’s a little game I play with myself in order to keep from taking to my bed and staying there.

I’m sure you’ve heard of the movement news anchor Ann Curry sparked, encouraging people to do 26 acts of kindness to honor those killed at Sandy Hook Elementary. (#26 Acts).  It’s been a joy watching so many people reach out to others, and to see the clever ways people have thought of to be kind to one another.

But performing “random acts of kindness” is not a new concept.  I’ve seen and and lived examples of this principle for years, and have been grateful each time a moment of kindness entered my life, or that I had a chance to be an agent of kindness myself.

So I got to thinking about people who were on this kindness band wagon, in big ways, before the words Sandy Hook Elementary became so heartbreakingly known to us all.

Kelley Faust is the President and “Chief Hope Officer” of Sunshine Hope, an organization that “creates ways for people to find support and friendship, seek refuge from stress, and feel better about their lives and the world around them.” How cool is that?  Here is their mission statement:

Sunshine Hope empowers individuals to live each day to the fullest by helping them build clear minds, healthy bodies and strong spirits. Through our online community, educational and thought-provoking content and inspirational products, we seek to spread hope and add joy to the world, one life at a time.

Kelley has written and published a book called THE SUPERPOWER OF ME. The description on her website says: “This happy, positive little book of possibility reminds children of all ages to believe in the power within themselves, to realize they are strong and resilient, to live, love, and laugh each day.”

Now who wouldn’t want their kid to have a book like that in their library??  Which is why donating a couple of copies of this book to BOOK TRAIN was a no-brainer for me.

Book Train is an organization started by author Lynda Mullaly Hunt, which seeks to “(Help) foster children discover great books, and keep them.”  In a very simple process, you send new books to a social worker, who gets them into the hands of a foster child.  I absolutely love the idea of giving a foster child something lasting that they can keep.

Lynda’s own novel, ONE FOR THE MURPHYS, tells the story of a foster child  who learns how to love and be loved in the home of the Murphy family.  One of the themes of the book is the idea that ordinary people can be heros.

So how about you? I hope to take a cue from Kelley and Lynda this year and look for deliberate and lasting ways to help people.  What will you do to be someone’s hero in 2013?

What helps?

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Many of you probably spent the weekend as I did.  Not shopping and singing and baking, but crying and hugging and listening to the news in an “I-don’t-want-to-but-I-can’t-help-it” kind of way.  I tried to shield my children from my own sadness and from any details of the horrible tragedy that occurred on Friday in Newtown, CT.

I didn’t want to talk to them about lockdown drills and gunmen and unthinkable sadness.  The time may come for that.  Today they’ll return to the real world and their own school classrooms, where whispers and rumors will fly surely as they do among adults.  I won’t be able to keep them in the bubble for long.

But for the past two days, I pulled them close and bubbled up.  Fighting my own heavy heart and deepest fears, I reached for books, those stalwart companions in times of anxiety.

EACH KINDNESS by Jacqueline Woodson is a beautiful, lyrical picture book that tells the simple story of the ripple effect of kindness, and what happens when kindnesses are left undone.  Although they are “too old” for picture books, I “forced” my kids to let me read this one aloud.  We can’t change events of the past, but focusing on what good we might do in the future was at least, for a moment, something that made me feel less useless.

I also read for my own sanity, to escape.  And when I got halfway through SEE YOU AT HARRY’S by Jo Knowles I realized I had chosen the exact wrong escape hatch. (If you have read this book you probably just said, “Oh no! You read that to escape reality?”).

SEE YOU AT HARRY’S is a moving, incredibly well-written middle grade novel, told from the point of view of 12-year-old Fern.  Saying anything else here would spoil its power for you as a reader. But I will tell you that as I read on, and on, and on, unable to put the book down, I realized that while it didn’t provide the lift that a “light romantic comedy” might have, it actually was quite possibly the most helpful book I could have chosen to read this weekend.

On the book jacket, you’ll find comments such as “soul-sustaining,” and “a big booming beacon of [hope],” and “rich in…the gentle hope that grows from the heartbreak of tragedy.”  When you are ready, I encourage you to read it and be strengthened.

As we face the days ahead, I’ll be looking for and clinging to signs of gentle hope.  May we all find the strength to push down fear and lift up kindness.