Cybils, Silliness & Stories


Ah, that Alfred. Loves a good book, that man. This is your Cybils Reminder! Things have changed this year, and the nomination time is quick-quick-short! One book per category, and it must be published in 2008. There, that’s not so tough to remember, is it?

Via Book Moot, more Heroic Tales of the National Ambassador for Young People’s Literature. Our man has finally gotten his medal — which he will show to you if you even are on the same side of the street as he is — and recently he went to Washington to …fix things, and read bits from his autobiography, Knucklehead.

Operatives from both the Children’s Book Council and the Library of Congress had asked Ambassador Scieszka to perhaps refrain from reading certain chapters of Knucklehead. Chapters like the one titled Crossing Swords, a meditation on going to the bathroom with all five brothers, together, at the same time.

Ah, yes. Since he couldn’t READ that piece, he described it. To the President. ‘Cause he’s that “funny dude,” and he had a Job To Do.

Meanwhile, if you missed our man’s Ambassadorial efforts last summer you must catch up.. Ambassador Jon — blazing a trail for Young People’s Literature and saving it from anything remotely approaching seriousness.

Many people know that Neil Gaiman has been touring for The Graveyard Book, and has been reading bits from it. You may also know that he’s been reading a full chapter at each stop, and by the time he gets home, he will have read the whole book aloud. And now all chapters thus far are on video. You can listen to that delicious voice read and watch… *cough* Erm, yes, you can now watch Mr. Gaiman reading. Tip of the hat to SF Signal.

My Name is Alfred, And I Approve This Message


mental_floss is celebrating some of their very first blog posts back in 2006 — and have resurrected this awesome time waster.

Like you really needed that to kick off your week. Oh, well. You’ll get some work done eventually.

Happy Monday.

Wicked Cool Overlooked Books: Non-Pink Jean

Welcome to the first Monday of the month, and another episode of Wicked Cool Overlooked Books! I completely missed September somehow — but I’m back!

Even now, if I sit down and just read the first few pages of a Beverly Cleary book, I’m hard pressed to set the book down. There is something about the tone and setting that make even the most dated of her books seem as alive and real as they must have been when the first readers opened them ages ago. So, when I saw an old copy of a Cleary I’d never read at a used book sale, I immediately picked it up.

I wish you could see my copy of the book. Harper Collins has done a reissue, and so all of the new editions are bound either in sort of girly-pink with party dresses or sort of random pink with hamburgers and telephones and other stereotypical sixties teen era detailing. Now I love the pink and I love the sixties, don’t get me wrong, but this is an atypical YA romance, and I prefer my cover. My library bound, 1965 edition of Jean and Johnny, which was first published in 1959, is a distinct brick red and has a beige and black drawing on the front of a boy in a plaid shirt walking with a shy-looking girl with horn-rimmed glasses and a realistically slightly terrified expression. It’s adorable.

And so is the story. Jean Jarrett is fifteen, and enjoying the first day of a two week Christmas break. She’s a terrible dreamer sometimes, which shows up in her work — though she’s made her own skirt, it’s plaid, and none of the lines match because she forgot to leave enough material for the skirt to gather, which is kind of a disaster. She’s a decent girl who admires her older sister, Sue, as being the smart one and the pretty one — though it’s worth noting that she admires her without angst, which is refreshing. Both girls wish for something exciting to happen, to maybe meet a nice boy. When Jean, wearing her horrible skirt, goes down the street to her friend Elaine Mundy’s house to write to her pen pal, they take an unexpected trip to Mrs. Mundy’s club, to drop off some Christmas decorations. A holiday party is in progress, where gorgeously attired dancers spin in a room of candlelight and flowers. The girls stop to watch the dancers — and Jean gets asked to dance.

In her hideous skirt.

It’s both deeply embarrassing, and completely magical, as Jean realizes that dreaming about a boy is vastly different from the reality of trying to dance with one, and make small talk. Jean is quickly obsessed with finding out more about this boy, Johnny. He’s a senior at her own high school. Why did he even notice her?

The late fifties setting of this novel gives it a really fun feel. The television commercials are described with Cleary’s drolly sardonic touch. Jean’s contest entering mother, competing for appliances by writing why she likes specific products (in twenty-five words or less), and her newspaper-rattling sarcastic father who makes disparaging comments about Jean’s choice of television shows, are perfect. At school, the band kids and the dramatics of the modern dance girls give a humorous, realistic touch and remind the reader how little high school has changed in some ways in the last fifty years.

The Jarretts are definitely working class, and certainly aren’t rich — the sisters sew and only splurge occasionally on Cokes because they know the value of a dime (which is what a bottle cost back then). However, the girls also know when to buy a store-bought dress, and their father knows when to give them a little spending money. In subtle ways, Beverly Cleary has constructed a loving, functional, balanced, frugal family, who sometimes quarrel but always make up. They’re not perfect, but they’re real.

I read this book the first time, expecting Mrs. Cleary to have written a traditional girl-crushes-on-boy YA romance — and to have earned that pink cover — but it in fact, this story isn’t routine or predictable, especially for its time period, which is why I am so glad I took a gamble and bought it. Jean learns a thing or two about relating to boys which are still relevant to this time, and more than that, Jean learns a thing or three about her herself — and comes out definitely ahead of the game. This is one wicked cool book, and if you see it in your library, by all means, pick it up!

More Wicked Cool Overlooked Books today at Chasing Ray!

Real Life Novel Ideas

Boo. Banned Book Week is over. I had planned to do a whole bunch of ranting on particular books that are fabulous but being challenged, and talk about how, while I understand the fears that people have for their kids that banning isn’t the answer and reading is, and talk about how all of the challenges and rechallenges of certain books are getting on my nerves, and thus create a bunch of scintillating posts.

Instead, my real life took over.

Our household had two days of food poisoning/stomach ick during which I wrote four more chapters on my current work-in-progress with very little sleep, went to Bach rehearsal, signed up for a German course at the University, cleaned the house, actually dusted, which I hate, went to the chiropractor, got lost in the East end of the city (I’ve been here a year, and still occasionally take the wrong bus) and then received a big box of advanced review copies for my next novel.

After that, I kind of panicked and spun out for a day.

August was not a good writing month for me, and I feel like I wasted a lot of time, though any time you write isn’t really wasted, exactly. I ditched six versions of my novel which wouldn’t have worked, and really, it’s better that I ditched them then my agent having to do it with a worried look in his eyes. However, the fact is I really need to work hard and finish my current manuscript. And, since it’s a new style of writing for me, I’m kind of terrified I can’t.

Fear always feeds itself, always gets me running around in rodent circles, always nibbles on the edge of my sanity and piddles doubt everywhere. And in times like these, I go into my email archives, and pull out a letter I received last September from my absent Muse and remind myself to take a breath already.

Take a long view of this. Your career is more than one book. This is your grand adult life where you get to be a professional writer. Who do you want to be in that context? How do you want to act and feel? What kinds of books do you want to offer the world? Who are the people you want to serve?

I think a writer does best when she treats a book like Elizabeth Gilbert (Eat, Pray, Love) did. (The Shrinking Violets wrote about this recently too) — Elizabeth wrote her book for one friend who was down. Just one. She found her person and told them a story of her own life. The book was intimate and loving and personal — and that feeling of “this is for me” was felt by so many people that the book turned into a huge NY Times bestseller.

I think I’ve found the person to whom I am writing this book. I think I’ve found my niche. Now, all I have to do is trust my novel ideas, and remember how to work.

It’s never easy, but I hope you find your place in the world, too. And if you periodically get lost, come back, and read this again. Remember who you are, and why you want to write.

Happy Sunday

Poetry Friday: Breathing Through Change


It’s as if someone flipped a switch: autumn. Leaves are suddenly transfixed in livid red, and if we haven’t had frost by the end of the next week, it’ll only be that the mercurial northern winds turn to come suddenly from the East. If not, it will freeze by tonight. Running errands this morning was brutal; the temperature is 43° and windy.

At times, the weather seems to reflect our state of mind. Knife-edged breezes spin leaves along the sidewalk, and push us into traffic. We hunch into our coats and wonder vaguely if the malevolence is imagined or real. It feels like we’re at the cusp of doom. In so many areas of our lives, so much feels to be at stake, and the approaching clouds seem to signify that we are in for hard times.

We teeter on a precipice, balanced precariously in a season of change. So much is at stake it seems, that we can only grit our teeth and hold on, until the season passes.
But pass it will.
It always does.

Cold Poem
by Mary Oliver

Cold now.
Close to the edge. Almost
unbearable. Clouds
bunch up and boil down
from the north of the white bear.
This tree-splitting morning
I dream of his fat tracks,
the lifesaving suet.

I think of summer with its luminous fruit,
blossoms rounding to berries, leaves,
handsful of grain.

Maybe what cold is, is the time
we measure the love we have always had, secretly
for our own bones, the hard knife-edged love
for the warm river of the I, beyond all else; maybe

(read the rest of the poem here.)

I love the phrase “the warm river of the I.” The poet captures how easy it is to be in love with ourselves and only ourselves, to solely cherish our cold singular souls in a time when everyone is freezing, everyone is broke, everyone is worried, everyone is scared. But even in this season that feels so chancy and perilous and fraught and lonely, may we hold onto the sliver of light that connects us. If we support each other up through the bitter season, we can all make it through.

Yes, we can.

Poetry Friday today is held at the blog of Two Writing Teachers.

A Touch of Gorgeous


It’s always cool to find a little bit of gorgeous in an unexpected place.

That’s kind of what readergirlz and GuysLitWire are — a little bit of gorgeous. As people go on and on about how, in this economy, publishing is dying, books are dying, young adults are dumbing down and the world is wearing Heelys and going downhill to Hades, it’s nice to see that others are striving to recognize a little bit of good. Mad props to readergirlz & GuysLitWire for positivity and basic awesomeness, and to the folks at Galleycat for noticing.

Gives us a little incentive to keep on booktalking, book lending, and book loving. Cheers.

Banned Books Week Meets the Cybils



HAPPY OCTOBER!

(You’ll have to actually click on the poster to read the quote, but it’s a great one, props to Kelly Fineman at Writing and Ruminating for putting it on her quote skimming post the other day.)
It’s the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness — or, if you’re in Glasgow, freezing cold weather, and blue, blue skies (interspersed by random attacks of icy rain. Go figure). It’s also the season of The Cybils, the annual young adult and children’s blogger literacy awards!

Wow, is this the Cybils’ third year already!? Congratulations on another year of the Cybils, Kelly and Anne! Here’s to books of all kinds — including those controversial books!

Go NOMINATE!

Happy Cybils, everyone!