“Success is counted sweetest,” Emily Dickinson says, “by those who ne’er succeed.”
I always assume she means that this is because the one who has not achieved success continues to struggle and strive, while the successful person relaxes into the lauds and laurels that are his due.
I guess that depends, really, on how one considers the nature of the success; if we consider a success for one person, then maybe they do relax and reflect on a job well done, and then the moment is over. However, if that success is a team effort, the satisfaction of the whole makes success doubly sweet as it echoes and reverberates between the most tepid members to the fervent and earnest.
Personal victories are extraordinary to watch, as gripping to hear as personal survival stories. Everyone has their “down in the valley” tale, which they may or may not ever share, but you can identify those moments when they have struggled to the mountaintop by their joy, despite the January chill.
in celebration of surviving
when senselessness has pounded you around on the ropes and you’re getting too old to hold out for the future no work and running out of money, and then you make a try after something that you know you won’t get and this long shot comes through on the stretch in a photo finish of your heart’s trepidation then for a while even when the chill factor of these prairie winters puts it at fifty below you’re warm and have that old feeling of being a comer, though belated in the crazy game of life
standing in the winter night emptying the garbage and looking at the stars you realize that although the odds are fantastically against you when that single January shooting star flung its wad in the maw of night it was yours and though the years are edged with crime and squalor that second wind, or twenty-third is coming strong and for a time perhaps a very short time one lives as though in a golden envelope of light
“In Celebration of Surviving,” by Iowan poet Chuck Miller, from Northern Fields: New & Selected Poems, Coffee House Press, 1993.
Poetry Friday is hosted by librarian Ms. Mac at Check It Out.
Pssst. Have you taken the Comment Challenge? Mother Reader & Lee Wind have cooked up a challenge to the YA and children’s lit blogosphere to become a more cohesive community and support each other in blogging, thinking and writing for the next twenty-one days. That ties in all too nicely with my commitment to lift weights and start working on that running thing again (all your fault, Colleen), only the Comment Challenge will have prizes. Okay, theoretically lifting weights has prizes, too. But mostly not.
What has changed for writers, now that the President-elect is a writer? From Dr. Susan,
The universal appeal of his books may help move work by other writers of color from the “ethnic” or “black interest” bookstore ghettoes into the mainstream where they belong. (Next on the agenda: recognition that books by women and LGBT writers are also real literature. But that’s another, post-euphoria post.)
Read more here, and add your own thoughts in the comments.
It is a strange thing to be far from home on Election Day. It is a strange thing not to get a sticker, or a sticker and a cookie, not to be “all braggy,” or a little flag pin to stick in your lapel, or just the feeling of *dusts hands* “Done!” when you come in from putting the flag up on the mailbox.
It is so weird not to be in the United States today.
Not that I obsessively watch election coverage, even during presidential elections. Generally it annoys the heck out of me, and this election coverage feels like it’s been going on since 1968. We’ve all gotten sick to death of spin doctors and pundits, but it feels so strange to be in a country where it’s mostly business as usual, and there are no flags.
I have work to do; edits to complete and a wedding to plan (on paper, anyway) in the next three weeks. I’m really hoping to FINISH. THIS. NOVEL. BEFORE. CHRISTMAS. But man, am I distracted today. And a little verklempt. Which is a surprise.
I’m neither particularly patriotic nor sentimental, but a friend of ours in Ireland posted an open letter to America on his blog this morning, and he closed it with words that made me catch my breath.
President Roosevelt wrote out these same words for Winston Churchhill, saying that the verse “applies to you people as it does to us.”
(I borrowed this from Bartleby. You may read all 397 lines quietly to yourself here.)
…Humanity with all its fears, With all the hopes of future years, Is hanging breathless on thy fate!
Such a huge responsibility. And is it really ours?
O, Ship of state. You probably have barnacles, and your paint is worn, and some of your sailors are trying to throw things — and people — overboard for their own reasons. But, you’re our ship, and I miss being part of the team swabbing the decks today.
“For there is nothing mysterious about the foundations of a healthy and strong democracy. The basic things expected by our people of their political and economic systems are simple. They are:
Equality of opportunity for youth and for others. Jobs for those who can work. Security for those who need it. The ending of special privilege for the few. The preservation of civil liberties for all.
The enjoyment of the fruits of scientific progress in a wider and constantly rising standard of living.
These are the simple, basic things that must never be lost sight of in the turmoil and unbelievable complexity of our modern world. The inner and abiding strength of our economic and political systems is dependent upon the degree to which they fulfill these expectations.”
The previous quote is from Franklin D. Roosevelt’s January 6, 1941 State of the Union address to Congress (listen here), his “Four Freedoms” address. Freedom of Speech, Freedom of Worship, Freedom from Want, and Freedom from Fear — those four became a rallying point for the United States during WWII. Because it was during a time of war, those freedoms were illustrated as ours to “fight for.”
I’d like to suggest that freedoms are something for which you vote.
Four essential human freedoms. Speech. Religious or irreligious expression. Financial solvency. Confidence that the country will not end under a nuclear cloud. Such big, big things that even now trickle down into smaller freedoms that everyday people have to remember that they possess.
Freedom to ignore intimidation and vote. Freedom to be accurately informed, and then make up your own mind. Freedom not to tell anyone for whom you voted for or why. Freedom to take a contrary path, to go your own way, and to do your own thing.
I’ve often been dismissed as an idealist. I believe in supporting the rights of other people to annoy the heck out of me and to be as weird as they are. So, I believe in voting for the same reason. Even if we don’t agree — and we probably don’t — I’ll vote for your right to utter strangeness, and hope that you vote for mine as well.
One of the most basic and cherished rights of any individual is the right to be left the heck alone. Rush to the polls, introverted people. Or, like me, mail in that ballot, and never even leave the house…
Read some other more erudite pieces on voting over at Chasing Ray’s Blog the Vote 2008. On the master list of young adult and children’s booksellers, authors, librarians, teachers and peers, people are talking about voting, the right to vote, and how this unique privilege has been a part of their lives.
I’ve always regretted that Norman Rockwell’s vision of Americans in the 1940’s was one of people of a single color and culture, and I remember as a kid straining to see even one light brown person in the bunch. The Wolfsonian Museum in Miami Beach recently reimagined this poster with their Thoughts on Democracy show (which runs through December 8th), and you can look at the results on Youtube, or check out the blog and read what the creative teams had to say about the four freedoms. The buttons are by the creative team of Kate Spade.
Speak up, speak out, and use your vocal superpowers for good!
Another reminder from the Blog the Vote contingent (Colleen Mondor at Chasing Ray, Lee Wind and Gregory K. at Gottabook) that there’s still time to take part in this ground breaking and original blogging action. In a completely non-partisan way, the young adult and children’s literature blogosphere is blogging the vote — talking about why voting matters to them, and encouraging everyone to get out there and change the world. I’ll be interested to see how those who have been drumming up support for specific candidates truly put their money where their mouth is and make things happen on November 4th. Meanwhile, November 3rd is for encouragement, remembrance, and exhorting each other to make a difference.
Don’t miss Andromeda’s piece on time off for voting laws. Do they have them in your state?
Finally, via Smart B’s, SB Sarah gives us a head’s up on volunteering for LibriVox. Next to being asked to write for an anthology, this is the second coolest thing I’ve wanted to do; voice-overs and audiobooks! Whee!
(Nat Love, born in 1854) Every summer, the first week back at summer camp when all staff reported for duty, all of us worker bees had to help get the horses down from the winter pastures, and halfway re-break them so they remembered what it was like to wear a saddle and bridle, and didn’t thoroughly savage the campers and run amok on the trail rides.
It was only a week of riding and brushing and gentling, and after that week, those of us who taught water skiing or swimming or crafts or photography or worked in the kitchen or laundry or tutored the kids who were there for Math Camp — we all got back to our normal summer lives. But the dudes and dames who taught horsemanship and who lived all summer long in Conestoga-style wagons and used outhouses… they were in for the ten week long haul with the heat and the dust and the curry combs and hoof picks; the puckey shoveling, the hay baling and the feeding and the brushing and the whiny girls who thought they wanted a pony before they found out how much work they are, and the kickers and the biters and the very boring trail rides (and the trough dunkings), and each and every week, the rodeo.
It was a week’s worth of work that I remember well. It gives me, to this day, a deep appreciation for cowboys.
African American cowboys are also of interest to me, as every year, the first Saturday in October in Oakland there is a fantastic and fun parade celebrating them. It’s the only parade like it in California, at least, and it’s a big eye-opener every year for people who think the West was explored and settled only by people who looked like John Wayne, handsome as he was. Not only were there African American cowboys, there were vaqueros, too.
(1923, the Ritchie Lithography Corporation.) There’s a lot of fun and crazy history in the Old West, and the “colored cowboys” celebrated in that history were well known for not only their skill but for their crazy hijinks in the saddle — for instance Bill Pickett, who was born in 1870 near Taylor, Texas, and who left school in the fifth grade to ride the range after longhorns, if you can imagine it. Knowing that many cowboys used bulldogs to help corral the steers, Bill figured anything a little dog could do, he could, too. The bulldogs jumped up and bit the steers in the sensitive area of the upper lip and nose… and eventually, Bill taught himself to do that, too! It was called “bulldogging.”
We can only imagine how many times he fell off, was bloodied and bruised and battered in order to learn this skill — but the notoriety it gave him at county fairs helped him launch his own Wild West show with his four brothers — The Pickett Brothers Bronco Busters and Rough Riders Association. In the 1890’s, a Wild West show made up entirely of African American men — was pretty wild stuff! They put on a great show, and Bill went on to star in several rodeo revues, and a couple of movies, too. The name Bill Pickett is even today still remembered in rodeo circles.
Helen Hemphill likes cowboys, too, and she has done a tremendous amount of research and exploration for her historical narrative, The Adventurous Deeds of Deadwood Jones. I got interested in reading her book after seeing her snazzy book trailer — it looked like the book had adventure and chaos and longhorns — which was good enough for me. In The Adventurous Deeds, I discovered a surprisingly gritty, realistic, historical narrative which reveals a realistic look at the lives of cowboys of all color in the Old West. (Here’s my review.)
Reminiscent of the “Deadwood Dick” dime novels which caught the imagination of junior cowpokes between 1877 and 1897, this novel has plenty of adventure, derring-do, heartache, and lots of time on the trail. This book is available today in bookstores all over. (Congratulations, Helen. It’s awesome!)
If you think you’ve heard it all, that’s because… you have! It’s synchronized debating! All the same words, most of the time. On one hand, it’s good that people are consistent. On the other hand, probably everyone in the whole world could hush just now, and we’d all still hear the echoes in our brains, word perfect…
Gratitude for all of you sitting on the metaphorical couch with your fellow bloggers this week, saying, “It’ll all be more bearable in a few days.” Through election fatigue, writing blahs, and general Wednesday work doldrums, we’re all here for each other (even though we’re not… there), passing the popcorn, arguing over who gets the last piece of chocolate, and as always, talking up our favorite books.
Happy Diwali! The skies were full of lights and color last night, and it was dangerous to walk down the street, as everyone and his brother had fireworks. Fun — but deafening — times, all.
Via Chasing Ray‘s awesome post today, I have discovered the COOLEST thing EVER: I already admire the heck out of the gorgeous and talented Holly Black. Now I find out that she has a secret library? I am deliriously envious!!!
Oh, my word! In the Cybils fever, a lot of us have forgotten about 28 Days Later, the Brown Bookshelf’s February celebration of African American literature. According to the site, “We’re specifically looking for new books and books that have “flown under the radar,” but you can nominate any book, as long as it’s a children’s or YA book written by an African-American author published by a traditional publisher for the trade market.” NOMINATIONS CLOSE NOVEMBER 1. The organizers of 28 Days are requesting more nominations for middle grade and YA books, so please think about books for older kids which you’ve enjoyed this year, and go over and nominate, so that these books can have a wider readership.
Also, I’m deliriously jealous? Because Alkelda went to see the Vlog Brothers. She brought back some Molly, though, so she’s totally forgiven. Man, I wish I could play the ukulele or the guitar. Or anything usefully stringed. But no. The kazoo. Anyway, I wish that MySpace falls into obscurity for utterly different reasons. Molly is, by the way, far too adorable.
Galleycat reported on Tuesday that there will be sixteen lay-offs at Random House’s Doubleday division, which was painful and scary to hear. Original Content gives us a great big heads up on bankruptcy clauses in writing contracts — and reminds you that you probably have one. This clause decides what happens to you if your publishing house goes bankrupts. Good to know, that.
And now for a PSA:
You can’t possibly forget to vote, but don’t be discouraged that your voice might not be heard. Vote for whomever or whatever you want, but DO IT. And remember to Blog the Vote November 3rd.
Did you know Carrie Jones has a new book coming out two months? We are still recovering from the AWESOME that is Girl, Interrupted, and now she’s at it again, this time with a scary one. Please note that she is also running for office.
Okay, it’s freezing, and my girlfriend in New Jersey just emailed me that it’s been snowing for three hours. IT IS STILL OCTOBER. I’m becoming slightly concerned about this winter thing. Just a little.
Celebrate The 50th Anniversary Of THE SNOWY DAY By Ezra Jack Keats Help Create A Commemorative Postage Stamp
The U.S. Postage Stamp Citizen’s Advisory Committee, the group that decides what subjects are chosen for our country’s commemorative postage stamps, is considering celebrating the 50th Anniversary of the publishing of THE SNOWY DAY by Ezra Jack Keats. This book is not just an American classic beloved by generations of children and parents around the world; it is also the book that broke the color barrier in mainstream American children’s book publishing.
It takes three years for the subject of a postage stamp to be considered, accepted and developed. The fiftieth anniversary of THE SNOWY DAY is in 2012. Help us gather signatures to send to the Citizen’s Advisory Committee to let them know how welcome this stamp would be to families and educators across the country. Help us show the world that Ezra’s character Peter, playing in the snow, a character they recognize and treasure, is as valued here as it is abroad.
To support the creation of THE SNOWY DAY 50th Anniversary Commemorative Stamp visit the website of the Ezra Jack Keats Foundation and add your name to the Support the Stamp list. Tell your friends, your students, your teachers and your parents to add their names to our petition. Names will not be used for any other reason than for THE SNOWY DAY Stamp Petition, nor will they be shared or sold to any other entity. Help make 2012 a celebration of American children in all their diversity!
Oh, I am ALL over this. I love, love, LOVE this little book, even though I was way too old for it the first time I read it. I remember thinking it was so startling — so much color on a snowy day…! If you’re of a mind to be a part of making this a fabulous postal stamp, head on over to Ezra Jack Keats. org and their petition site.
A couple of years ago, I was really excited to meet Our Jane Yolen in person. Okay, yes, I didn’t actually meet her; I stood next to her in a hallway while we sipped tea and sat in the row behind her at a conference, but I was this close to saying hello. Anyway, I admire her greatly as a writer, but why I refer to her as Our Lady, Jane, is because of her poetry, which generally contrives to smack me right between the eyes with a small silver hammer called Truth.
I’ve posted this poem before, but especially now, in the thick of election furor and angst, in the days when acrimony and hope war side by side, it’s time to share it, gratefully, again (and since it was passed out at the conference on bookmarks, I am sharing it in full). Let it smack you with that hammer, set you thinking and being and doing. May you see the Other in all your tales in a truer way.
Once Upon A Time there was a Wolf, but not a Wolf, an Other whose mother and father were others, who looked not like us, Republican or Dem in other words– Them. They were forest dwellers, child sellers, meat eaters, wife beaters, idol makers oath breakers — in other words, Wolf. So Happy Ever After means we kill the Wolf, spill his blood, knock him out, bury him in mud, make him dance in red hot shoes. For us to win The Wolf must lose.
Poetry Friday is hosted today by its creator, the one and only Kelly@BigA, little a.
“Success is counted sweetest,” Emily Dickinson says, “by those who ne’er succeed.”
Read some other more erudite pieces on voting over at Chasing Ray’s 
