June 2010 – {fiction, instead of lies}

To Everyone Who Said, “Just Have Fun With It,”

June 27, 2010

8:36 pm

5 Comments on To Everyone Who Said, “Just Have Fun With It,”

…I am. I so, so am.

It’s been so much fun meeting people whose names I only knew from their blogs. We are a shockingly beautiful bunch of people; the Poetry Princesses are not only gorgeous but vibrant and lively, and kind of hard to keep up with. (Try walking through the Exhibit Hall with Kelly Fineman. It is amusing, to say the least; it’s like following the Pied Piper.) I find that people are quick-draws on reading name tags; I’ve heard my name shrieked by people who I think are strangers until I take that slow second to find their name tag. Then I say, “OH!” I stood next to Carrie Jones and commiserated about having to take a picture and had no idea who she was for the whole five minutes of our conversation. (Dork Alert: Hello? could I actually LOOK at people’s names? What else is the purpose of wearing the stupid tag?)

Part of the Exhibit Hall from Above

A few thoughts:

Judith Haut, the VP for communications for Random House, is really and truly one of the nicest people in the world. If you’re ever in a roomful of people you don’t know, she’ll stand in a corner with you and drink coffee so you don’t look quite so alone,

Librarians are the BEST audience. Speed dating them at the YALSA event meant that I fell in love with all of them again. Librarians you are truly awesome human beings.

Children’s lit authors are crazy. Well, most authors are crazy, but seriously? Stand in a room full of children’s lit authors and see how long it takes you to laugh. Stand next to Libba Bray and Carrie Jones and see how long it takes you to smile and shake your head. Talk to Mitali Perkins, and you’ll find a grin blooming.

I am as big a fangirling dork as anyone. I had a silent jump-up-and-down-and-point moment in the Exhibit Hall. “Oh, my GOSH, that was Cory Doctorow!!! And he was wearing striped shorts!” Fortunately, the moment was silent; I prefer not to get a reputation as That Weird Girl. Well, anymore than I already have that reputation….

I love to watch Christopher Paul Curtis’ family hang out and watch him. There is such love in their eyes, and smiles on their faces.

Bookish People hug you even when you’re sweaty. I am ALWAYS sweaty here; either through nerves, or the fact that it’s 100°F here today. I am literally taking two showers a day. I am exhausted, and completely sick of the sound of my own voice.

But it is so fun being with my tribe.

{Changing Spaces}

by Tanita S. Davis

June 23, 2010

9:58 am

3 Comments on {Changing Spaces}

What We Do

I’m a little bummed this hour, since finding out my agent isn’t coming with me to this grand ALA celebration. His Dad has fallen ill, and I wish him very well, but I am sad that he’s not going to be there to rightfully bask in the glory of one of his writers receiving an award. Also: I don’t get to hide behind him. He’s not a big man, but he schmoozes much better than I do, I know. (Having never met him in person I cannot be sure of this, but then, the man does schmoozing for a living.)

Poor S.A.M. I’ll miss him.

This means that one coffee meeting has been knocked off the itinerary, giving me more time to wander through the Exhibit Hall and pick up BOOKS. I really hope we manage to keep under the weight limit on our luggage, or I’ll be at the post office before we pack up to go.

The weather forecast for D.C. states that it’ll be 95°F the day I arrive, dropping to 84° and rising again to 87° before I leave. The forecast says nothing about humidity, but I’m happy there’s nothing over a hundred, at least. And the U.S. is a country that is fond of its iced drinks. I will survive.

I saw that Sarah, Duchess of York is going to be at the ALA this year. And John Grisham. And Natalie Merchant. And AMY SEDARIS?! I keep forgetting that it’s not just for children’s lit… also, there will be comedians. SO WEIRD!

Today, I put cell phone numbers in my phone that belong to poets and writers. THAT was exciting. Yes, I’ve known these people online, but I have their phone numbers now. Yeah, yeah, I know I hate talking on the phone. It was the PRINCIPLE of the thing, all right?

Yes, I suffer from Extreme Geekdom. Deal with it.

Today’s emoticon: 💡 Getting the realization that I should really pack.

{Sunrise, Sunset}

by Tanita S. Davis

June 22, 2010

9:56 am

3 Comments on {Sunrise, Sunset}

Happenings

9:30 p.m.

Versus…

2:35 a.m.

Summer in Scotland can be a gorgeous thing (once it stops raining). I grew up with the idea of endless summer and “California dreamin'” from the Beach Boys and whomever else covered that song, but you just have not seen “endless” until you’ve been in the far north and tried to go to bed at a reasonable time… and the sun was still up. An hour after the first picture was taken, the sun was still up – but trying to look responsible and sheepishly thinking about setting. Eventually. My friend P. in Estonia says the sun doesn’t bother even getting embarrassed about overstaying until about 11:30. Children play outside until they collapse. Good times.

Yesterday, someone asked me if I was packed, and I realized that I should probably get on that. All the lagniappe is wrapped and sitting and I have my shoes lined up… and that’s pretty much it. I’ve been advised to wear dresses because “it’s so hot.” Um… okay. The warmest it’s been here in Glasgow so far has been a toasty 73°F. Seriously.

So. If you meet someone looking lost, wearing a limp skirt, and perspiring profusely? That’s probably me.

Today’s emoticon: 😳 Sweating already.

{Countdown}

by Tanita S. Davis

June 21, 2010

6:43 am

2 Comments on {Countdown}

Author News, Happenings, Musings on Extemporanea

Wow! And suddenly, I’ve just got a few days to toss things in my suitcase, hie myself to the airport, and come to D.C.!

For those of you attending the Kidlit Drink Night organized by the wonderful Sara Lewis Holmes, Susan Kusel and the other fab people from the DC Kidlit Group, have fun. My plane will be landing about the time you’ve been networking for an hour, and you’ll be leaving before I’ve collected my messages at the hotel. I’m both bummed and a tiny bit relieved; I’m sure I would love to see you all, but after a five hour flight, plus a two hour layover and before a shower? Not so much.

We will see each other around, however! I’ll be schmoozing with other YALSA authors on Monday, hanging around the Random House Booth (#2909), attending the Newbery Caldecott Award Dinner (YAY, Liz & Marla!), and otherwise doing what the folks at Random House have laid out for me.

I haven’t even really looked at who all is presenting. I just found out Gene Luen Yang is going to be there! There’s a whole TON of graphic novel people in the Green Pavilion (wherever that is) and so, so much to see!

Today’s emoticon: 😯 Slightly overwhelmed.

Poetry Friday {Bedighted, Delighted}

by Tanita S. Davis

June 18, 2010

1:20 am

5 Comments on Poetry Friday {Bedighted, Delighted}

Part and Poetry, Poetry Friday

Crowd duty.

El Dorado

Gaily bedight,
A gallant night
In sunshine and in shadow,
Had journeyed long,

Singing a song,
In search of El Dorado.

But he grew old –
This knight so bold –
And – o’er his heart a shadow
Fell as he found

No spot of ground
That looked like El Dorado.

And, as his strength
Failed him at length,
He met a pilgrim shadow –
“Shadow, said he,

“Where can it be –
This land of El Dorado?”

“Over the Mountains
Of the Moon,
Down the Valley of the Shadow,
Ride, boldly ride,”

The shade replied –
“If you seek for El Dorado.”

by Edgar Allen Poe

I love the word “bedight.” According to the OED, it’s an archaic form of the word “adorned,” or, more familiarly, bedecked. It sounds so festive. I shall go to the ball bedight!” (Okay, maybe not.)

The lines sort of trot out in a sing-song rhyming fashion (dum-de-de-DUM-de-DUM-de-DUM…) which means that they’re often recited by children taxed with learning poetry at school. Does anyone have this one memorized?

The Scots are good with being bedighted. (Or, should that be “bedight”?) The Company last week were anxious to see Scottish folk in kilts — which, many Americans believe all Scots wear all the time. (Think again, people.*) So, we hied ourselves to a castle, which is a typical place of pageantry, and The Company got all the national costume their hearts could stand — for that day, anyway.

The spectacle of the guard in the Queen’s colors (I think. The socks are definitely from clan Campbell/Argyll. No, seriously. Where else do we get argyle socks!?) marching with stiff legs and swinging arms, shouting and saluting and doing guard-ish things brought this poem to mind. They were quite gaily bedight, even in the fog and the wind, even in their routine jobs of making sure the tourists didn’t chase down the marching band or get in front of the cannons during the 21-gun salute (You would not believe how many people switch their brains off when they turn on their minicams. We saw close calls.). No matter what they were doing, bedecked and bedight the men and women of the Scottish regiments did it looking well put together.

(There were tons of junior enlisted guys and girls in regular old camouflage utilities and boots, if that makes any of you with soldiers in the family who don’t get to wear cute kilts feel any better. They had to wear a goofy hat with a bobble, too. A very goofy hat…)

If you’ve only ever heard this poem recited in the John Wayne film of the same name, and you’re wondering what the big deal is over El Dorado, there are two meanings that most junior high students learn — one returns you to Conquistador history. Francisco Orellana, Gonzalo Pizarro, Hernán Cortez and a heavy rotation of Spanish explorers were after a city of gold that didn’t actually exist. In the literal sense, this sort of references those guys searching for a lost city, since “El Dorado” tended to be the name given to any place which promised great wealth. In a figurative sense, the knight is a kind of Everyman, searching for that indefinable …something along his life’s path… and never quite finding it. But does El Dorado exist? What will our gallant knight really find in the Valley of Shadow? Rest, at the very least, and the end of his long journey.

Poetry Friday is hosted today by Two Writing Teachers. Their focus today is Father’s Day which doesn’t usually have a lot of bedighting in it, but today we can make an exception. Happy Friday.

Bedight down to his socks, he was.

(*A decent history of the whole kilt thing in Scotland can be found here).

{Gratifying to Hear}

by Tanita S. Davis

June 14, 2010

2:05 pm

1 Comment on {Gratifying to Hear}

General Coolness

Tech Boy: (waking up from a nap) “I was just lying here, dreaming that there was this story, where this guy was being held prisoner. And I was just trying to remember, ‘Wait, what happened at the end?’ Then I realized… it’s the book you’re writing.”

Fictioneer: (at computer) :smirks:

Tech Boy: (mildly piqued) Well, you need to finish writing it.

Fictioneer: (at computer) :smirks:

Back to work.

Poetry Friday: {Strangers}

by Tanita S. Davis

June 11, 2010

5:29 am

9 Comments on Poetry Friday: {Strangers}

Poetry Friday

“A stranger is just a friend I haven’t met yet.” – Will Rogers

Talking to strangers: Blogging is a strange, one-sided conversation which occasionally transcends its epistolary roots and becomes a vibrant, intelligent conversation among like-minded strangers. I have made friends on blogs – serious friends. Friends who are going to see me for the first time at the ALA Convention. Friends who have never met me, and still have invited me into their homes, into their parent’s home, and to play with their children, pets, and spouses.

On hearing that MARE’S WAR was being honored, and I was attending in D.C., I was offered spare rooms and guest rooms. Sight unseen, these people opened their homes and hearts.

Part of me thinks, Are they crazy?

Part of me wonders how they figure I’m not crazy.

How did we get to that place? Would we have been able to get to this place via Facebook?

Passing strangers – people who come by and comment, who give a word of advice, caution, or approval; who share a laugh or share an opinion – just people who seem to pass my “stop” frequently on their way to the rest of the world. I’ve gotten used to seeing them, and they’ve gotten used to talking to me. We’ve started to trust each other.

Talking to strangers. An impulse, that friendliness. What else might it gain me?

To a Stranger

– Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass, 1900.

PASSING stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you,

You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me, as of a dream,)

I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,

All is recall’d as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,

You grew up with me, were a boy with me, or a girl with me,

I ate with you, and slept with you—your body has become not yours only, nor left my body mine only,

You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass—you take of my beard, breast, hands, in return,

I am not to speak to you—I am to think of you when I sit alone, or wake at night alone,

I am to wait—I do not doubt I am to meet you again,

I am to see to it that I do not lose you.

“To A Stranger” is also known as “Calamus 22.” “Calamus” is a cycle of 45 poems that were included in the editions of Leaves Of Grass. This series of poems is about attachments, in most cases, gender varied attachments, and, arguably, interactions between strangers. I think this is less sexual (many people make that mistake with Whitman, and that’s all they see – the potential for something deviant, since that was the first of the criticism he received in 1855, and what English teachers thereafter have told their students. Read more closely.) than a joyful acceptance of anyone, and everyone. Walt Whitman’s poems fairly vibrate with excitement of meeting someone new. He was so willing, and so open to the experiences this world can bring — while knowing its harshness and shadowed areas. And yet — he was open, still.

I am to see to it that I do not lose you. How do I do that?

How do you?

Poetry Friday is hosted today by the gorgeously-smiling Kelly Polark. Join the strangers over there.

{While You Were Out}

by Tanita S. Davis

June 10, 2010

9:26 pm

{Company}

by Tanita S. Davis

June 6, 2010

7:40 pm

7 Comments on {Company}

Uncategorized

The cleanest my room’s been in awhile

You really do make that EXTRA EFFORT if your guests are friends of your parents, and not people with whom you went to college, for whom you would simply scoot some clothes off of the futon and tell them to make themselves at home. We’re half B&B and half touring company, as we’ll be baking pastries and showing off stately homes and sharing the best that Central Scotland has to offer. Not much chitchat coming at you from this direction — think of me and cross your fingers that it doesn’t rain as I reprise Death March With Castles Week!

I’m happy to be getting out and about, honestly – hope to find a bit of time to scribble in between tours. There are only TWO WEEKS until I go to D.C. after this one! Must get cracking!

(BTW, that’s the wardrobe, with the mirrors. Sadly, no Narnia behind the doors – it’s a bit too modern for that, perhaps. Still looking in every wardrobe I see…)

{Random Unrelateds}

by Tanita S. Davis

June 2, 2010

3:47 pm

9 Comments on {Random Unrelateds}

Random Notes and Errata

< this is a rant >

There’s a stack of these on the hall table in the foyer of our building. They are ugly, and I was tempted to throw the whole stack away. I very much hate how advertising skews things by gender — and how many fitness and weight loss ads are slanted toward women. Women have historically been characterized as “the fairer sex,” or “the weaker sex,” as if there’s some kind of rule which states that we must be both vacuously attractive and unable to manage without external validation – and in these modern times, we know that’s just a lie. In spite of what we know, like clockwork, every January and every June the ad campaigns ramp up on radio and TV. It’s time to make New Year’s resolutions and promise to be more beautiful! or It’s summertime, and time to show off our bodies! It’s as if it’s all up to us to both beautify the world and to satisfy its insatiable need to commodify us. It’s demeaning and depressing, and makes me grumpy.

< / end rant>

The ALA Countdown is beginning! In just a few weeks, I’ll be sweltering in warmth and humidity, but more importantly meeting friends and fellow authors, poets, and illustrators whom I’ve only had a meeting of the minds with online.

Having never been to any conferences other than literary things I’ve either been part of giving or had to attend for a class, this is going to be a big deal for me. I am looking forward to seeing the exhibits and the museums in the Capitol, and also to finding a quiet place to step out of the stream of humanity and just observe. I’ll be taking plenty of pictures and reporting back on all of my adventures!

But before the Conference, we have houseguests! Our first guests in this flat will be friends of my parents, which means a.) wild house cleaning, b.) actual menu planning, and c.) that as soon as I finish this post, I will be back to writing as hard and fast as I can – because I’m going to lose three days to swanning around museums and tea shops and castles. I just hope it ceases to rain while our guests are here, and that all the stairs in this country don’t do them in!

Here & There: This month Paper Tigers has a fun little spotlight on play, with a great piece from the author of Retro Active: Skip, Hop and You Don’t Stop (Games We Played) , by Tom O’Leary. They also asked a bunch of other authors (and me) to join the fun and reminisce about our childhoods, which is a little funny to me, because I feel like I’m just getting started on the whole “play” thing. Anyway, it’s good fun. Check it out.

Right, then. Back to work.

PASSING stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me, as of a dream,)
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,
All is recall’d as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,
You grew up with me, were a boy with me, or a girl with me,
I ate with you, and slept with you—your body has become not yours only, nor left my body mine only,
You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass—you take of my beard, breast, hands, in return,
I am not to speak to you—I am to think of you when I sit alone, or wake at night alone,
I am to wait—I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.