Let It Be Good

I used to get sick at times like these. My friend James called these moments "punctuation marks" -- moments of such profound life change that the body says STOP! WAIT A MINUTE! LET ME ADJUST!

But you know... I'm okay. I'm great. I'm better than great. It's a new day.

Isn't it always? Yeah, yeah, that old adage about every moment being a new moment... in my twenties, I kept this saying close by:

This is a new day. I have this day to use as I will. What I do with this day is important because I am exchanging a day of my life for it. When tomorrow comes, this day will be gone forever. In its place will be something I have left behind. Let it be something good.

I still try to live by this. Idealists R Us, I know. My mother used to tell me that I needed to be more of a realist, and perhaps she was right, but I am who I am, I have finally learned that much. I have learned, too, that idealism without a healthy dose of practicality doesn't get me too far.

I have learned to be a pragmatist, in this past ten years. Ten years ago I sold my first book, FREEDOM SUMMER, followed within a few months by LOVE, RUBY LAVENDER. I have learned much about the realities of publishing and the difficulties of making a living, particularly as a single parent. This spring alone, in schools, I have been challenged:

-- I presented an assembly to fourth and fifth graders during field day. FIELD DAY! Enough said.

-- I presented an assembly program to third graders in the cafeteria during LUNCH TIME, while kids filed through with their trays and assorted conversations and crashes. This was a first. And almost impossible.

-- I presented a kindergarten program to a room full of five-year-olds who had just been visited by Viola Swamp, which was, of course, all they wanted to talk about. I looked at the teacher, she looked at me, we just laughed.

-- I presented assembly programs to schools full of children who didn't know who I was and didn't know my books. Those of you who do author visits in schools know how hard this is.

This is just for starters. And I'm not complaining. I'm laughing. You have to laugh! It's such a crazy life. I watch teachers -- idealistic when they begin (I know; I have taught them) -- become total pragmatists as they figure out how to make teaching work for them and their students, as they heroically figure out how to make literacy matter by bringing in an author to talk about story with their students.

Some time I want to tell you about the wonderful Georgia schools I visited this past week -- I have pictures of these intrepid, pragmatic souls to share with you -- I have stories.

I'm grateful for every invitation I received this spring, grateful for the work, grateful for the relationships, grateful, grateful, grateful, and I can certainly appreciate all the barriers that have to be surmounted and dealt with and the compromises that must be made when a brave media specialist, reading teacher, PTA mom or principal decides to bring an author to school.

It's all so mixed up, these ways of teaching, learning, making a living, celebrating. It's all that messy glory. And boy, am I getting an education!

We had lots of messy glory last Saturday at our house, during our family celebration. Photos are here. I'll keep them up for a couple of weeks for you brave souls who want to peruse 175 of the top 500 photos that folks took of the day (for heaven's sake!).

I'm looking at these pictures and thinking about the endings and beginnings that are a part of life. I can feel myself at the end of a long struggle and at the beginning of a new chapter in my life. I will be home more, on the road less. I have three novels of the 1960s to write for young readers. I have a garden to tend, a husband to love, a home to make, a family to bask in.

I am hopeful, excited, and not a bit petrified of the unknowns ahead. I have spent the past eight years picking up the pieces, holding it together, fashioning a brand-new life, and I can't wait to step into it.

Which I will do tonight. I am writing you from a hotel restaurant in Columbia, Missouri, where I am part of the Reading Day celebration for fifth and sixth graders in Columbia Public Schools. I will see 1200 students today in four sessions -- I'm excited about that, too. And about seeing my friend Roland Smith, who is also here.

Few photos today, with no captions -- they are all from this past week in Georgia schools -- but I did want to connect. To let you know I'm here, working away, as are you, exchanging a day of my life for this day, as are you, hoping that I leave behind something good.

She Is Graduated; We Are Married


This was the mood on Saturday.










This was the band. That's Jim making a jazz face in the orange shirt.


This was the food.

Ha!

There is more, much more. Sixty-five people swooped over to our house and made the day special. I have pictures galore of all the laughing and hugging and dancing -- and singing! -- and eating, and will post them to a Picasa web album soon, and I'll post the link here.

But I am expected at school in an hour, so I must go -- Cooper Elementary School today, in Loganville, Georgia, back to work I go, fourth and fifth graders will be my audience.

We still have a house full of Maryland friends, we are still partying, albeit on a much smaller scale. Still eating the good food Jason prepared, still munching on all the treats that friend Cindy sent from Maryland, still savoring and swapping stories from the day.

Just wanted to check in and say it was wonderful -- thank you so much for coming.

The Top of the Roller Coaster


Shhhh! Yes, it is 4:33am. The house is quiet. This is the time I treasure, before the day's light, before conversations, before movement. Stillness. Quiet. Peace.

I like the day's light. I love conversation. I delight in the way that life flows and eddies around moments, makes memories, assigns meaning.


In this house, over the next three days, we will have an almost-constant flow of people and their stories. We will make such life-long memories. I wouldn't change a moment of the past eight years in order to be where we are today.

Coleen came and went already, as you know. So did Deborah Hopkinson. We celebrated early.

IRA has come and gone. I got dizzy with signings and sightings (the multi-publisher party was particularly amazing in its cast of characters) -- thank you so much to all of you who came out to see me and thanks to Scholastic, Harcourt, and Simon & Schuster for hosting me. The folks at S&S were particularly gracious, as my Scholastic signing was packed, we signed and chatted for an entire hour, and then folks followed me to S&S with Harcourt/Scholastic Book Fairs books for me to sign, and S&S said, Come on over.

Sold all the FREEDOM SUMMERs that S&S brought (that book has such long legs!), so I didn't feel too sheepish about teachers bringing their Scholastic books to the S&S booth as well -- it was a lovely circus.

Lots of conversations. I loved seeing old friends, loved making new ones. But it's a lot to take in, a lot to sift. Sitting in my green chair at 4:33 in the morning is an important balance to all the noise, lights, action, movement that a national convention brings.


I did get my picture taken with Indiana Jones --

-- that's Kara Bliss, Indy, me, Lisa DiSarro and Coleen Salley in a Houghton Mifflin Harcourt bonding moment.

More bonding at the HMH booth: Jen Haller, Jeannette Larson, moi, Kara Bliss and Lisa DiSarro. This was Monday morning. My camera got away from me after that.


Yesterday the first of our guests began arriving. Picked up friend Sue from the airport, Jim got Janie Kurtz, and we ordered takeout Thai food as we inaugurated Irene (the current name for the new carport room) -- we lighted candles and had supper together. Jim had to do his version of American Gothic while wearing the wedding apron Jane brought us from Indonesia.


When Jim grabbed a broom to stand in for the pitchfork, Jason decided to skedaddle. We didn't get the grocery shopping done and we didn't get the bathrooms cleaned, but we have today to get those things done, before folks start arriving. We have today to finish potting the plants and making the chili for supper and preparing tomorrow's feast.


Lots of lovely conversation last night, around this gathering-room table with the pool of light enveloping us as the darkness fell. And lots more to come today. Time to take a long, slow, deep breath... the kind of breath I ask kids to take when I'm visiting schools and say, "Put your hands in the yoga of writing...."

We're at the top of the roller coaster. Deep breath. Here we go!

Snapshots from an Overflowing Life

What day is it? Where am I? Let the games begin. Here are some photos from travels, as we barrel through the week of IRA and skid into the weekend family party.

First, Monica Woolf is the librarian extraordinaire who coordinated my visit and Jerry Pinkney's to Beth Yeshurun Day School in Houston, where every spring they hold a young author's day. What a great day with all these young authors, and what a meaningful time we had together.

As I flew in from Houston, Coleen Salley flew toward me from New Orleans, and we met at baggage claim, then drove to a late supper in Candler Park, and home to crash in bed. The next day we slept in, let our hair down, and spent some time catching up and telling stories.



What happens when you give a storyteller and children's literature advocate a brand new book? She reads it out loud, of course. This is Coleen reading Ted and Betsy Lewin's new book, HORSE SONG.

She reads it once through to herself, smiling all the while. Then she begins an out-loud reading, gathering her crowd (me and Jim) around her. We huddle close -- just to listen to this voice telling story is such a treat.


The climax! With a flourish!









Winding down to the denouement...











Appreciating and admiring...










Toasting the listeners! That's our IRA material, spread all around the breakfast table.








Coleen got all prettied up for her ride to nearby Lawrenceville, where she would be presenting in schools on Friday. We'll meet up again tomorrow at IRA.










IRA! Oh, Lord. Time for me to get prettied up, too. What a time. I spent yesterday in an Institute with some of my favorite people, Nancy Johnson and Cyndi Giorgis: Side by Side, When Literature and Literacy Intersect. We had a packed house, all day long, and had such a fantastic time -- so much to learn! That yellow blur in the back is Ralph Fletcher dashing back to his seat after a break.

And here we are, presenters and organizers alike, in our tired glory,
after it's all over... whew. Friend Deborah Hopkinson came home with me, we did some catching up, crashed into bed, and now -- it's off to IRA again this morning, where I sign at Harcourt's booth from 11-12, at Scholastic Book Fairs from 2-3, and at Simon & Schuster from 3-4. See you there at Atlanta's World Congress Center. It's a beautiful day, an overflowing day; it's good to work hard and do good work, isn't it?