Month: September 2007

Tad + Mitchell L.= True Love

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September 11, 2007

2:28 pm

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On Writing

Now that we are settling into our ‘flat’ in Scotland, I made a point of making sure I could find the essentials. I am thrilled to be sitting in one of the most awesome libraries ever — six floors, two ‘lifts,’ a café. The Mitchell Library boasts the largest collection of archival works in Europe… and the smallest YA and children’s section I’ve seen in awhile.

Well.

THAT’S, about to change.

I’m pretty sure the Interlibrary Loan people are going to be shocked very soon at the volume of books being requested, but I hope to find that, like at my library in the States, it eventually expands the collection. I saw a class of children crammed into the tiny corner that made up the Middle Grade/chapter books, and I thought good things at their teacher for bringing them, even though the place was quite small, and she was more than a little bit harried with so many children in such a small space. (And it’s remarkable how the words “And put that back RIGHT NOW” come out so very clearly, despite whatever accent or brogue.)

I have been to two libraries in Glasgow now, and though the one in Hillhead is very well stocked, there was only one person sitting and reading. I’ve only ever seen one kid voluntarily reading since I arrived, except for magazines. There is a big grant and a push going to get Scotland reading… what a great time to be here, no? Because I can surely lend some enthusiasm.

Six floors. I am so in love…

All content (unless otherwise attributed) is © Copyright Tanita S. Davis and may not be reproduced in any form.

day too

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September 9, 2007

10:30 am

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Uncategorized

Strange place in which I find myself.

I’ve loved meeting you all, with your plummy, posh voices and your common slurring, nasal lisps. Your crisp consonants and unintelligible vowels. I feel like I’ve traveled the world over just zipping past your state, your city, your province, your borough. For the most part, I have had the time of my life, jouncing past in rattling coaches and jarring cabs. I look over your shoulders and peer at your papers, and I wonder… who are you, really?

Who are you, Midwesterners, with your flat vowels and your vehement discussions on Page 1 about whether or not Anne Lamont should be able to speak at your university because she talks about suicide — which is anti-Catholic? Who are you, fast-talking Easterners, who have been so unexpectedly kind, even as you nearly run me down in the pedestrian lane? Who are you, atheist Gaels, whose glorious churches are wedged in at nearly every corner, but which echo emptily with the 70 – 80 year old crowd. Who are you all? And what do you see when you look at me?

I feel like a stranger more often than not. Everyone here seems so …edgy. Harsh makeup and dyed hair, false lashes and glitter-glam clothing. Will I have a sophistication which matches my flat? Will I need to escape to the country in order to retain my sanity?

It feels like there is much to do against the winter. We have to secure the light and warmth and homey aspects needed to keep the roar of alienation at bay. Today I feel adrift… It’s not so much that I miss home, or want to be back in the heat and sunshine or that I need the family and their concerns pressing ’round. It’s just that without all of that, who am I? Who am I now?

I must need more sleep. More sleep, and then I can do this…

I hope. God keep us.

Mind the Gap

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September 7, 2007

9:39 pm

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Ficktion Fridays

“This is a security announcement,” a metallic voice said confidentially over the loudspeaker. “Please do not leave baggage unattended. Unattended baggage will be collected, and may be destroyed.”

Heard that so many times it is blurring in my brain.

Unattended baggage may be destroyed.

Well, I am an unattended baggage, at least my mother always called me a snooty baggage, and now that she’s not here to say so anymore, I am unattended, adrift, abandoned, left behind.

I still don’t believe she just left me with him. Just picked up, took the train up to Guston, leaving me with him by myself , which really means leaving me by myself, since ever since Momma left, Daddy’s been… gone. Down at the Hydebound, drinking and watching the Raiders with his friends. He doesn’t want to come home and look at me.

Well, the feeling’s mutual.

I won’t go home, not when he’s banging around piling up dirty dishes in the sink and thinking it’s my responsibility to clean up after his slobbing. Not when I find him staring at me, staring at me dead on with some kind of evil marked all on his face. It’s safer here, in the station, staring down the old ladies and hitting up the sugar daddies for a bit of cash for some gum. And as long as I can avoid the station wardens, I’m in good shape. It’s no place Daddy will find me.

Daddy says she’ll come crawling back, but I don’t think so. I don’t want her to, anyhow, not unless she’s coming back to get me. If I stay here, I’ll see her before she gets out of the station, down to the bus stop, back to the house. If I can just talk to her, I’ll say, Momma, here I am… now we can both go, and never let her step foot in his path again.

Someone eventually comes for even baggage left unattended, don’t they?

this picture is the basis for this week’s story… more to come, see Ficktion.ning for more.

Poetry Friday: Late, but in the Home Stretch

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September 7, 2007

7:51 pm

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On Writing, Poetry Friday

Home, Sweet Home


Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home;
A charm from the sky seems to hallow us there,
Which, seek through the world, is ne’er met with elsewhere.
Home, home, sweet, sweet home!
There’s no place like home, oh, there’s no place like home!

An exile from home, splendor dazzles in vain;
Oh, give me my lowly thatched cottage again!
The birds singing gayly, that come at my call —
Give me them — and the peace of mind, dearer than all!
Home, home, sweet, sweet home!
There’s no place like home, oh, there’s no place like home!

I gaze on the moon as I tread the drear wild,
And feel that my mother now thinks of her child,
As she looks on that moon from our own cottage door
Thro’ the woodbine, whose fragrance shall cheer me no more.
Home, home, sweet, sweet home!
There’s no place like home, oh, there’s no place like home!

How sweet ’tis to sit ‘neath a fond father’s smile,
And the caress of a mother to soothe and beguile!
Let others delight mid new pleasures to roam,
But give me, oh, give me, the pleasures of home.
Home, home, sweet, sweet home!
There’s no place like home, oh, there’s no place like home!

To thee I’ll return, overburdened with care;
The heart’s dearest solace will smile on me there;
No more from that cottage again will I roam;
Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home.
Home, home, sweet, sweet, home!
There’s no place like home, oh, there’s no place like home!

John Howard Payne

Normally I despise musicals, but I have an unbelievable fondness for both Technicolor and The King & I, so this song was especially appropriate for Poetry Friday. (Though it is nighttime here, it still counts, right?) I always hear the little voices of Miss Anna’s students singing this one, and I will sing it — with lots of jumping around — because I now have a house here. Hopefully next Poetry Friday will be ON TIME and in sync with the rest of y’all.

I FOUND two libraries today — now to find the one closest to my home!

‘Til next time…

All content (unless otherwise attributed) is © Copyright Tanita S. Davis and may not be reproduced in any form.

Toon Thursday: Now With Added Linkage!

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September 7, 2007

1:37 am

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On Writing, Toon Thursday, World o' Blogs

Yup, Toon Thursday is back after a week’s hiatus for the Under Radar Recommendations. I like having an excuse to take a break now and then. Thinking of a funny joke every week is kinda hard. (Can’t believe I used to write a humor column every day…) Anyway, today’s Toon Thursday is in honor of the fact that I spent what seemed like eons yesterday writing my query letters for my YA novel…and finally sending out proposals to two agents! Yay!

Also, in blog news, Betsy at Fuse #8 has announced her first official podcast edition of A Fuse #8 Production. She wants your feedback, so go check it out! Also, Writer’s Digest presents a pretty amusing blog by Kevin Alexander called This Writer’s Life about the tribulations of a writer just starting out. I can relate. I particularly like his mock quiz entitled Are You Ever Really Going to Finish that Novel? (Notable quote: “3. Agents like a brief selling handle summing up the book’s main plot. Which answer most closely resembles the state of your pitch? … D. My book will have several chapters and a main character who’s probably going to be a woman. Or a man. Definitely one of the two.”) Lastly, the editor of Guide to Literary Agents keeps a blog here, with periodic updates and new listings of agents. There’s a category for posts related to children’s writing, too, though it doesn’t seem as lengthy as other categories.

All content (unless otherwise attributed) is © Copyright Tanita S. Davis and may not be reproduced in any form.

Wicked Cool & Coming Soon

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September 4, 2007

10:42 am

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On Writing, Writing Daze

I thought of all of my kidlit buddies yesterday, as Wicked Cool Overlooked Books day came… and then I recalled that we weren’t doing that sort of thing right on the heels of our kidlitpalooza of overlooked books, our Under Radar Recommendations, but be sure that I have a real favorite picked out for next month. Of course, next month is also the advent of the evocatively named October Country, and I can’t wait to play around with some words and images on that score.

Funny how being without consistent internet makes one feel a bit lost from home. Though I’m working on being awake for the last, oh, twenty-two hours? I’m feeling pretty good being back in touch with you.

Some thoughts: Dublin, which my friend Donal, who lives there, calls ‘the filthy city’ isn’t really all that bad, at least not at the airport, and airports are usually the bottom of the barrel. Ireland and Scotland are green, green (foggy, nippy, and downright boot-inspiring) jewels. I look forward to unearthing more stories here, finding a decent bookstore, and a pair of tights… not necessarily in that order. Our reservation has been shifted from one hotel to another, and we’re walking asleep, but news of a more bookish sort will emerge shortly… for lo, I have been to Waterstones…

Cheers!

All content (unless otherwise attributed) is © Copyright Tanita S. Davis and may not be reproduced in any form.