These young gentlemen are part of Club Bili, a boys-only reading club in two middle schools in the D.C. area (Alexandria, Va.). They were guests of the Children's Book Guild of D.C. yesterday, where they told their stories about how "real men read." Charming doesn't begin to describe these guys. They made us laugh with delight and hope.
Read the article in the link above to see how Club Bili works. See if it doesn't make you smile. We met and listened to the dynamic reading resource teachers behind this program, Jodie Peters and Rob Murphy, who, I am convinced, never sleep. If you want to know more about Club Bili, or about how to start one in your school/community, drop me a line and I can send you contact information.
Yesterday contained two phone meetings with my editor, a Book Guild luncheon meeting, time with two writer friends, and a bookseller/librarian (really, more friends) dinner, then a drive back to Frederick through the rainy dark.
My trip is over. I fly home in a few hours. This week marks the mid-point of an experiment:
-- After literally years of road-warrior travel, get off the road and stay home for almost a year. Pat nervous system into place, gather routines, settle into new-home Atlanta.
-- About six months into being home, give yourself a work week away and see how that feels.
-- Then go home to Hotlanta and stay there a few more months before the Big Travels next spring.
Hypothesis: This experiment will change my life. I will come to the travel so rested, mentally and physically, that it will feel just fine to leave home for a week and do my job.
Conclusion: It has. I did. It did.
I worked a twelve-hour day yesterday, much of it play time, too, although I have learned to call it all work when away from home, as it requires a mindset of "you are on the road, and on the clock. You have X minutes to spend here, and must be ever-mindful of the next event, the next travel, and the next conversation. Hold your shoulders back. Sit up straight." etc.
The good news is (and this was part of my hypothesis)... a little balance works wonders. I am tired, but it's that good tired that one feels after good work. Hooray!
The quick catch up:
1. Two editor meetings yesterday, and some light at the end of the novel tunnel. My work is cut out for me this weekend. We'll talk.
2. I'm back on facebook, and twitter. I'm experimenting again in my never-ending quest to understand social networking better and not freak out about it as I do. On my schedule page (on my website), I direct young readers to my facebook fan page (remember that?) where they can write me, and they do. This is in an effort to cut down on snail mail, as I'm so very bad at responding via snail mail. But I'm killer on my facebook fan page. Ha!
2. Song permissions for book one of the Sixties Trilogy have overwhelmed the permissions budget, so I have spent time this past week away from book two and back in Franny's world in book one, re-working the scrapbooks. I think, in the end, we're going to have even stronger scrapbooks. Who knew?
3. Regarding book one of the Sixties Trilogy: We need a new title. I have buried the lead here, I know, so if you have read this far... well... maybe you can feel my pain. :> More on this from home as well. (We do have a new official title as of yesterday, and I think it's better than than ever, but for heaven's sake!!) Soon I will have a cover to show you.
Safe travels to everyone today, wherever you go. Happy Weekend!
long week's end
the ghosts of story
I almost called this post "when worlds collide" because it's a bit like whiplash, careening from one world to another this week while I'm in D.C. But it's not a collision of worlds that's happening. It's a realization of ghosts. Everything has its season, then passes on. See if you don't think so, below.
Twenty four hours in three different worlds:
Teaching at St. Patrick's in Washington, D.C. These students are gathering their stories, their personal narratives. We tell our stories in song, dance, art, words and more. How will these students choose to save their stories... or will they?
Walking through Harper's Ferry, West Virginia, at the confluence of the Shenandoah and Potomac Rivers. Here lies John Brown, along with the ghosts of history, stories saved, and stories we will never know.
Touring Andrews Air Force Base and remembering my childhood days in Camp Springs, Maryland in the sixties. This is Franny's world in book one of the Sixties Trilogy. It was my world, growing up. Now I am visiting ghosts and retelling my story, casting it as fiction, in a novel for young readers.
My character Franny lives at the corner of Coolridge and Allentown, as I did in 1962. This is the road she walked to school. I walked it yesterday, with the ghosts of my past.
Soon we will all be ghosts, even the students above. How will the stories they leave us help those who come after us live on?
This, I believe, is the sacred trust of literature.
st. patrick's episcopal day school
Loving these two days at the St. Pat's annual book fair. I worked with the fabulous Seymour Simon yesterday, and go solo today.
Yesterday: sixth, second, first, and kinders. We wrote and told stories.
Kinders ready to go on a field trip right after our time together:
But not before they dance to ONE WIDE SKY:
Got to go! Today: fourth, fifth, seventh, and eighth graders. Thanks so much, everyone at St. Patrick's!
