A Sound from My Heart

Opening the Gift

2011-12-28T18:16:00.000-08:00

Today is the Fourth Day of Christmas, and I am reflecting on all the lovely celebrations our family has had this past week. We started with my daughter Deb's birthday on December 22cd, which we celebrated by attending the Nutcracker, the Pacific Northwest Ballet performance. This was a special gift since my 7-year-old grandson Weston was seeing it live (with full orchestra) for the first time, and was enthralled. His delight was a gift to all of us, as he watched the entire performance, eyes wide, barely moving in his seat.

The next day we had our family celebration at my daughter Laura's home, with lots of laughter and food, and of course, the opening of presents. Grandson Josh opened a huge container of Lincoln logs and from that point on, he and his Daddy, and several of the other cousins were totally absorbed as they built an entire village (or so it seemed as tracks and buildings spread across the living room.)

On the following morning (Christmas eve) 25 members of extended family met for breakfast at a local restaurant, and who should make his appearance but Santa Claus, astounding all of us (who really didn't expect him so early.) The gift of his appearance brought smiles to all of our faces.

Christmas eve night, we followed our family tradition of opening one gift each. Seven year-old Weston could not wait to have his Mommy open the gift he had made for her, a lovely India ink etching of a cornstalk.

An hour later, after hanging stockings, I was off to church, with the joy and privilege of singing in the choir for our Christmas eve Mass. Such gift, as we sang those familiar hymns, the church lit with candles, Christmas trees filling the nave with their spicy fir smell, glowing with hundreds of white lights. My heart was truly full, God's Gift of Love so present all around and in us.

And all of this, before Christmas morning,which was wonderful in itself.
There are Gifts of all kinds. This Christmas week, I am thankful for all of them, but most especially thankful for the Giver.

Hang On To the Leash!

2011-09-14T11:06:00.000-07:00

Last night I saw a dog walking himself.
Really.

I was strolling along in our local park just before sunset when a Golden Lab trotted by me, one end of his leash properly attached to his collar, the other end neatly folded between his teeth. There was no master-type person in sight.

I watched, transfixed, as the dog trotted purposefully along the park walk, but then as dogs will do, picked up an intriguing scent and veered off on the grass, heading over the nearest hill. At that point, a jogger in the distance, turned around, and, catching sight of the dog about to disappear over the hill, gave a holler. The dog, fortunately, did respond and galloped back, leash in mouth, to his owner.

I couldn’t help smiling, and thinking, as I’m apt to do, how this very situation reminds me of my story writing process. Too often, I forget that I am the author, the master of this story, and I let it go galloping off, far from where I was initially headed. “My character just took over,” I say sometimes. Or (worse) “I think this is just one of those plotless stories.”

Nope. It really isn’t so. What’s usually happened is I am so busy being “creative” I’m not taking the time to plan out the story, or to periodically go into my editing mode to see if plot, character, setting and all those other writerly things are happening in my story.

I’m letting the story go off on its own, just like the dog last night. At first it may seem to work, the story may trot along on a nice story arc, but sooner or later, without a little tug on the leash from me, I guarantee that story will gallop off over the hill, and I probably never will find a decent end for it.

It’s a good thing to ponder at the end of my writing day.

Coming up soon: Part 2, Creative Detours,
Or: Is it ever better to just let the dog go over the hill?

Backyard Campfire

2011-09-05T11:26:00.000-07:00

This week we had a fire in my rose garden. Really.

My grandkids (Josh, 4 and Amanda, 6) asked me, “Grandma can we make a fire in the backyard and roast marshmallows?” And I, good grandmother that I am, agreed.

First we had to find a safe place to build it. There was a nice bare spot in the rose garden. (I spend more time writing than gardening and my rosebushes periodically succumb to neglect.)

Josh and Amanda cleared the area of stray weeds and dug a small fire pit. Next they circled it with stones, and then together, we carefully arranged a pyramid of paper, small kindling, bigger kindling, and readied a log to put on top, should our fire stay lit long enough to do that.

We were (to my great surprise) successful! After a couple of false starts, our fire began to burn bright. As Josh and Amanda did a delighted fire dance, I began to think how this process of making a campfire is like the process of making a story.

First we have to clear a space, both in our lives for the time it takes to write, and in our hearts for the emotional work needed to create a story.

Next we need to circle up the stones—to put up some barriers around that space we’ve created. For me that means saying no to lots of lunches with friends, shopping, TV, and other such things.

Then we arrange the materials that will create the fire. It takes some time and thought to arrange those flimsy paper thoughts that will then light the kindling of a stronger story idea. This, if carefully fanned by the breeze of our spirit, then flames up with a real, true-to-my-deepest-heart plot that catches fire with a believable character and setting to finally ignite that mysterious and wonderful fire log we call STORY.

We did roast marshmallows that day, Josh and Amanda and I, a most satisfying end to our day. Just like a good story can be.

Family Reunion

2011-09-01T17:44:00.000-07:00

We did it! 40 of us came together in my Kirkland, Washington home this summer for a long-awaited family reunion. Children and grandchildren, sisters and brothers, nieces and nephews came from New Mexico, Arizona, Florida, California, and even from Berlin, Germany to celebrate.

For me, a sun-lit moment occurred when my granddaughter, 2 year-old Anika reached out and took the hand of 3 year-old Ceci, her cousin from Berlin. “We are family,” she said.

And I admit it, I had to swallow down my tears, because in 3 words, my granddaughter Anika spoke the core truth of why we had come together.

We are Family.

We have different ideas about almost everything:

What to eat (vegetarian for some, barbecued steak for others)
When to get up (5:30 AM appears to be the time of choice for 1 year-old Louisa, but definitely not for the rest of us.)
And where to go (Seattle Center and the busy waterfront shops for some, a quiet forest hike for others.)

And yet we somehow managed to accommodate everyone, not all at once, and not without compromise. We laughed a lot, ate a lot, talked all hours of the day and night, and we cried together, especially when we had to part.

Through it all the blessed truth rang through, and left us all smiling to remember:

We are family.

Watching For Whales

2011-08-31T13:15:00.000-07:00

I just got back from a wonderful writing retreat on San Juan Island,
For 6 blissful days, I, along with the other 5 members from our Diviners writing group, spent hours at a time writing. We stayed at a wonderful house that looks out over the waters of the San Juan Channel with Mt. Baker in the background, and tiny Turn Island almost within touch.

Yesterday we drove to Lime Kiln Point to look for whales, The resident orca pod had been spotted there just the night before. We didn’t spot any whales, but each of us has had the great joy of experiencing at least one good Whale of an idea in our time away here.

Much of writing, I find, involves watching for whales: first that whale of an idea that will captivate our energy and interest for the unexpected amount of time it will take to write the story or book. Then we watch diligently, searching for a whale of a good character who will carry our great plot idea forward.

And of course, there’s a whale of a lot of writing and rewriting involved in this whole process.

So it seems especially appropriate that we spent our writing retreat here on San Juan Island, where everyone agrees, Watching for Whales is a worthy way to spend your time.

Vacation Research

2011-06-17T21:03:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow I head home from my wonderful San Francisco vacation. The evening sky still glows an azure blue, as I watch the oak trees silhouetted along the top of the ridge outside my bedroom window. I'm thinking of Bree, main character in the novel I'm currently writing.

Part of my reason for this visit (besides spending time withLinda, my delightful writer daughter) was to get a feel for the area where Bree spent all her life before her recent move. So Linda and I spent time in the Embarcadero area, where I imagine Bree spent time skateboarding with her friends.

I got the feel of it in a way I couldn't from just reading--the smell of the breeze off the bay, and the sounds at noon, with folks grabbing wraps from the nearby lunch stands and sitting on the steps by the fountain and fending off the pigeons looking for lunch as well.

And now I have a memory, a Bree memory that has already popped up in the new scene I wrote this week.

I love doing research this way, for my stories on vacation. It makes me see and feel and experience all of life, not just my stories, in a new way, an all-of-the senses way.

Try it. Wherever you travel this summer, listen, and taste, and smell. Look at the colors and shapes of all you see. Writer or not, it's wonderful research for Life.

Mmmm.

I just felt the slightest touch of the evening breeze. Must sign off now, to go outside--to taste and smell, and feel it, before I head for home tomorrow.

Bald spots in our writing--and life

2011-05-17T15:55:00.000-07:00

My, oh, my--this picture tells it all. My beloved 4 year-old grandson Josh took a pair of kid scissors to his hair this week, and now has an outstanding bald spot. Even the best efforts of Mommy's favorite hairdresser couldn't do much about this!

Sometimes it's like that with our writing too. That well-intentioned chapter just doesn't turn out the way we planned. And sometimes no matter how we try to smooth it all out, to trim around the edges, to make that bald spot blend in, it just doesn't work for the story.

Sometimes we just have to wait. There are times when we need to ponder and dream and mull it all around, while we wait for the story to "grow out" the way it's supposed to.

Just like Josh is waiting for his hair to grow out.

Building a Monster Bug, and Other Writerly Research

2011-05-02T13:22:00.000-07:00

I sometimes find myself doing research for my stories in the strangest of places. Like this week when I found myself on a local Seattle pest control website.

I love to use animals and bug creatures of all kinds in my stories for kids, and have found it zooms the interest level up when I do – a story bonus both for the kid readers, and for the busy editor who wants something a little startling or unusual.

So I was delighted when I found the kid page on the Eastside Exterminator website. The very first Fun Fact (about an ant lifting 50 times its weight) gave me a great idea for a story for Clubhouse Magazine, one of my current publication targets.

I admit I got sucked into the website for longer than I’d planned, when I discovered the Build a Monster Bug Game included on the site. But hey! I built a very credible lady bug while I was there, and now I’m mulling around a way to get ladybugs, of which I’m particularly fond, into another of my stories.

I encourage all you kids, and writers for kids to take a look. Even those of you who like to write scary stories may be inspired. (Did you know a cockroach can live up to 9 days after losing its head? Now that’s creepy!)

Have fun with your research. You just might find yourself coming up with a brand new story that excites and delights you.

And your readers too.

PS. If you happen to run into any real bug problems (like I did when wasps invaded our house the week of our big family reunion) Eastside Exterminators can help out there too!

Sesame Street, This is Your Life

2011-04-29T15:38:00.000-07:00

I received one of the most startling, albeit joyful, shocks in my life two weeks ago when our Western Washington SCBWI awarded me the first Lifetime Achievement Award during our annual conference at Mariott Hotel in Redmond. It was truly a surreal moment to recieve a standing ovation from over 400 of my dear fellow writers and illustators.

My award included an engraved plaque and clock, and an all expense-paid trip to the national SCBWI conference in LA in August, which I joyfully look forward to.

But what stay in my heart in these days since the conference are those words of love and affirmation spoken by so many of you during the "Sesame Street This Is Your Life" portion of the presentation. Sara Easterly sent me a copy of all of these, as I was too much in shock to take it all in as you were speaking. My heart is warmed each time I read these over.

You give me courage, all of you, as I continue on my writing/teaching journey.
I'll continue to share some of the joyful moments in late posts.

Tiptoe Through the Tulips

2011-04-12T15:40:00.000-07:00

Ack! I see snow in my last blog entry--must get a new blog entry. Okay, so I could do a blog with lots of rain images, and how the rain makes our creative spirits grow, but right now, today, at 3:42 this lovely Tuesday afternoon, the sun is shining, and my red tulips in the front yard are just starting to peek out. (The brave white ones bloomed two days ago, even in the rain.)

So that is how it is with our writing too--some of the stories just huddle away in the quiet parts of our hearts until the sun shines on them enough to open them up to our conscious. But some of our best stories open out and flourish in the rain, even sometimes in the storms of life.

It's a good thing to remember for those of us who live in the Pacific Northwest!

May your stories bloom this week, both in the sunshine and in the rain.

Looking forward to seeing many of you at one of our favorite Story Blooming spots, the SCBWI conference in Redmond Town Center. Just three days to go!

Snow Day in February

2011-02-24T17:08:00.000-08:00

Our unexpected snow storm has me smiling. I love walking in the snow, I love making fresh snow cones, flavored with maple syrup. I love making snow angels and snow forts with my grandkids.

But mostly (today) I love that I am snowed in all alone, and everything else I had scheduled has been canceled. That means I have a writing day with no interruptions, no hurry, just time to try this and that--to brainstorm that devotional I just thought of, to finish up the Clubhouse Jr. story and send it off, to work on my new Highlights story, "Sophie and the Dragon." I can put all those handwritten scenes into the computer for my new novel, THE BOOK OF BREE.

All things are possible on a Snow Day. I'm signing off now, to have the best kind of Snow Play ever--playing with my writing.

Snorkeling with Sea Turtles

2010-12-05T15:19:00.000-08:00

Christmas music is playing, it's cold and gray outside, and I am untangling Christmas lights. But my heart is still in Hawaii. So hard to believe a week ago today, I was standing barefoot in the sand on Wailea Beach in Maui, surveying a three-foot tall sand castle just completed by my grandkids Josh and Amanda and their Daddy. Their absolute delight when Daddy discovered a live crab in the sand as we dug, makes me smile just thinking about it.

There's something about discovering a new place with a four and a six-year-old that brings life into full and living color. One sunny morning during our stay, we took a boat cruise out to snorkel with the Honu, the giant sea turtles. I will never forget the yelp of pure joy when almost 6 year-old Amanda Rose came nose-to-nose with a turtle bigger than herself. She pulled her head out of the water, and couldn't stop giggling with sheer delight. She quickly put her face back in and she and I enjoyed several mystical minutes as we floated serenely along next to Honu, who did not seem to have read the snorkeling rules about no physical contact between humans and sea life. Honu very much wanted to be friends with Amanda and me, but we did keep a few inches between us for the most part.

It was an experience I won't forget, one of many during those joyful 12 days in Hawaii.

I hold these memories in my heart, treasures to journal, to relive again and again as I write my stories for children.

This is one of the great delights of writing; every experience can be relived and shared with others.

And now I'll go back to untangling lights and stringing them on every bush and tree I can reach. Time to leave Hawaii, at least for awhile, and begin to live into the joys of Christmas.

May you all have the joy of discovering Honu with an astounded grandchild--or stringing brightly colored Christmas lights for others to see, and to smile.

Tell Me A Secret

2010-08-02T11:51:00.000-07:00

We all love secrets, right? The excitement of having a good secret, wanting to share it with someone we trust--and the fun of discovering a secret as well.

Well now the Secret is out, and it's Holly Cupala's wonderful new book, TELL ME A SECRET. To find out all about it, take a look at this amazing trailer:

I have the joy and honor of being in Holly's writing group, the Diviners, and smile as I think of all the little secrets from this amazing book that I got to learn along the way, as Holly shared chapters with us in writing group.

Now the Secret goes out to the world! I can hardly wait for all of you to join me in acclaiming Holly, as you meet and come to love Rand in this wonderful new book.

Once you read the book, you won't be able to resist sharing the Secret.

Gnomes in the Garden

2010-04-19T15:22:00.001-07:00

One week ago Saturday, I stepped into a Story Garden. Immediately, like magic, roots grew down into the ground, connecting me to a rich substrata of writers, editors, agents, all with amazing stories to tell. As I wandered the Story Garden (known to some as the SCBWI Western Washington Writing and Illustrating for Children Conference) flowers of every sort shot up out of the ground at my very feet. I watched with amazement as one particularly bright colored blossom (Genus Lainius taylorus, fuschia petals, quite lovely) began to speak. Wondrous tales of a circus troupe within her very being, struggling to emerge, wove a spell around all of us in the Story Garden, prompting great excitement at the possibilities for each of us, ready to bring forth our own fruit.

As the day wore on, and we were watered, fertilized and shone upon by Master Gardeners Jay Asher, Peter Brown, Edward Necalsulmer IV, Jordan Brown, Lisa Graff, Paul Rodeen, Michael Bourret, Sara Crowe, and so many others--voila! We bore fruit. Many of us scurried to secret corners, to quickly capture those first buds of a new story, the tentative tendrils of a plot twist.

No garden is quite complete without a Garden Gnome, and by early afternoon, our very own gnome appeared (see above), cheering us on, giving bits of writing advice to each of us who captured him before he disappeared back into his own hidden garden, once again to write.

And now each of us have returned to our own secret gardens, treasuring all we brought back from that magical weekend, seeding our own stories to bloom in due time.

Watch our gardens grow!

pictureHOPE

2010-02-12T12:45:00.000-08:00

I received a special picture in the mail yesterday.
Entitled The Cat, it was drawn by my five-year-old grandson Weston, who lives in Santa Fe.

Anything that Weston draws is special.
But this picture has particular significance. Weston created this picture in response to his Daddy, who has already raised over $7000 for DWB (Doctors Without Borders) to help the people of Haiti. Weston's dad, Eric Keller, mobilized many of the photographic artists he works with, each of whom contributed one of their photographs for a fundraiser for this cause that has torn all our hearts asunder.

When Weston saw his Daddy hard at work on the exhibit, he asked if he could do a picture too. He understood that many people were hurting, and wanted to help. My heart is so touched by my dear Weston, as well as his Dad. Of course, I was honored and delighted to have first opportunity to purchase this one-of-a-kind artistic work.

I encourage you all to look at the many prints offered in this amazing exhibition and fundraiser. http://www.soulcatcherstudio.com/exhibitions/haiti/index.htm
You may find something wonderful to bless your home or place of business, and at the same time help the people of Haiti.

I will smile each time I look at The Cat, framed here in my writing office, and rejoice that so many care enough to reach out in times of need, including one very special five year-old grandson.

Mirror Images

2010-01-12T11:05:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I've promised to give some snapshots, some scenes, from the Amazing Family Reunion. One of the best echoes in my mind from that event is the moment my two adult sons, David and Michael, got their first look at each other after two years apart. In that two years, lots of things have happened. Both became husbands and dads in that two year span, and I had the great joy of holding both one year-old Cecilia, and (then) one month-old Anika Faith.

But one of the most startling moments for me came afterwards, looking at the pictures, seeing things I had not seen before. In one amazing picture (take a look!) I am holding Ceci, and my two sons are looking across us at each other, sharing a brotherly memory.

They are mirror images in this picture, and remind me so much of their dear Dad.

But, being a writer, I couldn't help but think what a powerful set-up this is for story, how mirror images in our stories can tell so much. I'm thinking of this today, as I've just done the final (yes, really it is) rewrite of my last chapter for FINDING NONNA.

I am delighting in the wonderful mirror scene I see reflecting the first chapter. I tell my students often that a well-written first chapter is like an arrow pointing to a mirror chapter at the end. It's fun to see it working here in my latest book--Ellie, rescuing the injured snow goose in the first chapter, and at the end, after a hard journey of spirit, rescuing in a totally different way. Ellie is changed, but the elements of chapter one are present in this final chapter, creating for me (and hopefully for the reader) a real Aha! moment.

Like the Aha! I experienced looking at this picture of my two sons, seeing reflected in them my husband, and their love for each other, and the blessing they each have in their new families.

Mirror images of joy.

Putting the pieces together to make a Story

2009-11-08T19:39:00.001-08:00

Okay, so I promised I'd fill you all in on the summer family reunion.
True to my word, I did not write this summer, but still the story wove in and out as our family gathered here in my creaky old house with old plumbing. They came from Berlin, Germany, from Santa Fe, from San Anselmo, from Tucson, from Texas. And as we gathered, events began to unfold.

We had a wasp invasion, right through the living room wall one memorable Sunday morning.
We had a major plumbing blow-out (tree roots in the pipes).
We had a record heat wave, 103 degrees, and no air-conditioning.

But we also had a great wedding reception, welcomed the newest baby, Anika Faith (see picture) and celebrated the first birthday of our Berlin baby Ceci, along with that of her Daddy, Michael, (my eldest son.) We had lots of late breakfasts on the deck, a trip to the zoo, lakeside swimming parties at my daughter Laura's home (oh hooray for that lake when the temp soared to 103).

And each day, no matter what the joy or catastrophe (usually some of each) I journalled, just a bit, before I went to bed. Just bits, but the story was weaving, in and out, flashes of character, bits of dialogue, scenes to remember, some dramatic, some funny.

Will these come into the new book I'm beginning? Maybe. But for sure they are woven now into the fabric of my life, part of the bigger Story. The story of family that undergirds everything else I write. I'll share next time some of the smaller bits, those colors and textures that stand out, the pieces of that bigger story.

The Third Eye

2009-11-01T17:30:00.000-08:00

Last Saturday I had the great joy of participating in the Northwest Bookfest, presenting a session with my writing buddy Mary Jane Beaufrand (author of PRIMAVERA, and the soon to be released THE RIVER.)

Our topic for the session was "How do you get your ideas?" and I had the brilliant (last minute) idea of heading for our Halloween fun store and purchasing a rubber eye, which I attached with spirit gum to the middle of my forehead, my Third Eye, so to speak. It was blue and a bit wrinkly around the edges, and I must say pretty realistic, once I'd attached it to my forehead, and added a bit of beige face toner.

I explained to my intrigued audience at Bookfest that this Third Eye is what all writers need, the ability to see in a new and creative way, so that we notice those great ideas that just slide by otherwise. Brainstorming together as a group, we used some "what if" situations, and an assortment of objects ranging from Russian nesting dolls to odd-shaped rocks to come up with story ideas. We had everything from aliens perched in neighborhood trees to teleporting tennis shoes. We let the ideas fly with no editing, and I know at least some of the delighted attendees headed off home to write up (perhaps) their first story.

Afterwards, I inadvertently created a lively story scene myself. Driving home from Bookfest, I made a last-minute stop at Trader Joe's, totally forgetting my Third Eye was still firmly in place. I was cruising the aisles with my basket, wondering why I was getting all the strange looks when I remembered it. I quickly combed my bangs over my forehead as best I could, kept my head down, and headed for the checkout stand.

The check-out girl did a double take, but didn't say anything. When I finally made it back to my car and looked in the rearview mirror, I had to giggle. The third eye was peeking out through my bangs, looking more realistic than ever.

All the way home I chuckled as ideas for stories, both funny and weird, zipped through my mind. So yes, the Third Eye, that most creative and unusual way of seeing things, really works.

Try it yourself. I'd love to hear your stories!

Summer of the Family

2009-07-10T10:50:00.000-07:00

Okay, I know this is heresy, but I am not writing this summer.
This is my Summer of the Family.
In exactly nine days, my beloved son Michael, his wife Christiane, and my almost year-old granddaughter Cecilia will arrive from Berlin, Germany to spend 5 weeks here with me in our home.

While they are here, my other two daughters and families will come from New Mexico and California, so that all the sibs and grandkids can have time together, as we all join in the fun with the families already here in the area. Some of our Tucson family will come, too: my sis Nancy and husband Mike, my brother Frank, and maybe more.

We will do lots of eating, talking, hiking, swimming, and lounging about, with occasional trips to the zoo thrown in. All in all, it doesn't sound wildly exciting. But I am smiling, even as I write this. And though I have consciously decided to set aside my writing times this summer so that I might be totally present and ready for family enjoyment, I know the stories will be percolating in my head and heart, stories springing from this very family time together.

Perhaps I'll keep you posted via this blog. Stay tuned!

And may your summer be wildly creative, in some delightful way--be it family and friends, writing or sketching, surfing or rock-climbing.

Eyes open for blessing, hearts open too--let us seize the glory of these summer days.

Tantalizing Tidbits from the Feast

2009-05-28T19:01:00.000-07:00

Our Western Washington SCBWI conference is two weeks in the past now, and still some of the wonderful snippets of wisdom and tantalizing tips stick in my mind, and continue to to nourish me.

I'll not forget Nina Laden (ROMEOW AND DROOLIET) reminding us, "If you don't make mistakes, you may not make anything."

And Deb Lund (MONSTERS ON MACHINES) reading her unforgettable poem about that inner voice that harasses us as we write, and summing it up by telling us, "Sometimes we have to revise our own story, that story we tell ourselves."

Krista Marino, Senior Editor at Delacorte, reminded us to take cute out of our dictionary, when talking about children's books.

Nathan Bransford (Agent, Curtis Brown Ltd.) gave us his pet peeves for story beginnings: Don't start your book with

the weather
your character waking up
looking in the mirror
sarcastic characters (too flip and negative)

Steven Malk (Agent, Writer's House) says it's great to be aware of trends, but don't write to them.
He also advised us to be nice to everyone, not only because it's the right thing to do, but also because you never know when that editorial assistant may become the Senior Editor.

Kelly Sonnack (Agent, Andrea Brown Literary) told us to avoid

forced pace-building (suddenly, quickly, at that moment)
copious tears (only one tear per story)
faces draining white or blushing
exclamation points!

Justina Chen (NORTH OF BEAUTIFUL) encouraged us to "say yes to the emotional truths of your heart."

And Sundee Frazier (BRENDAN BUCKLEY'S UNIVERSE AND EVERYTHING IN IT) told us she has to write, that she cannot deny that creative part of her being. "I could not deny the One who created me."

I've offered just a few nibbles of that wonderful feast that was spread before us at our unforgettable Feed Your Genius conference. Now fully fueled, it's back to work. Happy writing, everyone!

Picture above: Some of my favorite people in the whole world--Molly Blaisdell, Janet Lee Carey, me, Katherine Grace Bond, Holly Cupala, all members of our Diviner Writing Group, all of us enjoying the Conference Feast

Meet The Creature

2009-05-18T15:22:00.000-07:00

Oh yes, I admit it was wonderful and scary at the same time.
Our Western Washington SCBWI conference this weekend, that is.
The joy! Bubbling, bursting all around us as 400 writers, illustrators, agents, editors, joined together in a Giant Monster Mash, to figure out together how we can do the very best books possible for kids. We had workshops, gab-fests, and lots of food.

More details coming, but for now I leave you with this picture of our Mystery Guest, who made an early morning appearance Saturday to start us all off on our Adventure-Filled Weekend.

Flying High at the Kid Lit Party.

2009-05-18T12:44:00.000-07:00

Wow! Just got back from our Western Washington State SCBWI (Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators) Conference, and I am flying high! I feel like a balloon filled with helium, ready to soar. So many wonderful writers, editors, agents, all eager to share, each having a special gift to enrich us.

The Kid Lit party Friday night was a time for us to just hug and rejoice in being together again, some of us who don't get to see each other often. Okay, so it was in the Mariott Hotel Bar and we could have little drinks and snacks to go along with our vibrant conversation. My good friend Mary Jane Beaufrand treated me to a strawberry daiquiri. I don't usually drink, but it was so deliciously filled with strawberries, and made me feel quite brilliant and happy. (See picture, above left, Mary Jane striking in turquoise blue, surrounded by, left to right, Sue Nevins (Mockingbird Books) and on Mary Jane's other side, Rene Kirkpatrick (Third Place Books), Janet Lee Carey, whose wonderful book, STEALING DEATH, will be out soon; Justina Chen, author of the amazing NORTH OF BEAUTIFUL; Holly Cupala, whose yet untitled but amazing YA book you are all going to love; and moi. Janet, Justina, Holly and I are all in the same wonderful writing group, the Diviners. Lucky girl am I!

Scroll down this blog to see our whole wonderful group--or most of us, in the archived blog, July 27, 2008.

Another joy for me at the Kid Lit party was having several of my writing students attend: See the pic on the right with four of them from my Bellevue College Advanced Class, The Magic of Writing for Children. From left to right they are: Jacquie Hill, Don Jenny, me, Erik Pulkka, and Neil Hoyt. We are going to be seeing published books from this crew--I'm looking forward to autographed copies, down the road!

I'll be blogging more about this wonderful SCBWI conference--the Kid Lit conference was just the start!

A papier mache Pig

2009-05-11T10:48:00.000-07:00

I'm back from Santa Fe, after a joyous visit with my four-year-old grandson Weston.
Our main project while I was there? A papier mache pig.
Weston always has a list of projects for us to do when I arrive, and the Pig Project was the one on top. We started with a pink balloon, fully inflated, and attached toilet paper roll ears, snout and legs.

Sometimes the simplest of materials, those basic things of life can be the beginning of something wonderful, be it a new story idea for a book, or a papier mache pig. It's a good thing for us to remember as writers!

Weston and I proceeded to make a very sloppy paste, and to tear hundreds of strips of paper. These we had to slather on, layer by layer, over our pink balloon pig. What a messy process! Reminds me of that middle stage of writing a book, all those pieces that have to somehow be layered in and on our story.

Then we had to let it sit for awhile and dry. Yep, just like our book, when we get that first draft done.

After that we attached a Baker's clay tail, such a lovely curly tail.

But oh my, wouldn't you know it, when we tried to poke in the Tail End the whole inside of the pig exploded (that pink balloon) and there was a gaping hole in our beautiful pig.

Repairs needed. Some major, some minor. We made more paste. Tore up more newspaper. Slathered on more layers. Attached the ears more firmly. Let it dry again.

Ah, lovely! This pig version was much better. Those ears looked so cute at that new angle, and our pig was firm, fat and fully dry.

Weston and I painted him a lovely crimson, and Weston put on the finishing touches--his eyes and nostrils. Such a wonderful pig.

Such a wonderful story.

May you all have a joyful week, enjoying your stories and life, even if the process is sometimes messy. Even if your story, or your day explodes.

Just keep at it, slather on a little more paper and paste, and let it dry. Sooner or later, you'll wind up with a new creation, more lovely than before.

On my Way to Santa Fe

2009-04-17T10:30:00.000-07:00

I'm so glad that writing opportunities come in bursts at unexpected moments.
I'm on my way to Santa Fe for an 8 day catch-up with my four-year old grandson Weston -- the one who knows the meaning of onomatopoeia. (Okay, look it up, it's a fun word all writers should know!) Weston is my soul mate--loves words and reading, and I expect will soon be writing his own stories. (His mom told me he did his first crossword puzzle last week!

So all that is to say--here I am, barely re-entering from my amazing pilgrimage to Egypt, Israel, Greece and Turkey, and I'm off again--with all my Writer Antennae fully extended, smiling as I watch for the story ideas that will be popping all around me.

When I get back, I promise to continue with those joyful and intriguing bursts of insight from my Holy Land trip--and I know I'll have some zaps of insight and writing delight from my Weston, and the Santa Fe trip too.

Until then, may you all have joyful and provoking experiences of life.

A Felucca Ride--and discovering Treasure

2009-04-02T14:20:00.000-07:00

Okay, I promised tidbits about my recent four country trip. First stop: Egypt.

We (my sis and I, and our tour group of 84 others) started out in Cairo. On day one, eleven of us took a rollicking ride on the Nile River in a felucca, which is an Egyptian sail boat. We rocked and skimmed, and I clambered up to the front mast to get a better look at life along the Nile. Our guide Islam was nervous about this, and stayed close by my side until he could convince me to go back and sit down. But hey! I think we writers have the urge to do this often, to stand up and stretch, to look for the unexpected, even if we do rock the boat sometimes!

Our felucca made it safely back to shore, and we headed for lunch at a floating restaurant at the edge of the Nile. Delicious Egyptian food. I'm not sure what I ate, but it included a mix of meat (lamb?) and vegetables and spices mixed together in a delightful way.

Next stop: Khan al-Kalili, one of the biggest bazaars in the Middle East, and the oldest, dating back to 1382. As we wound our way through the maze of canvas-covered alleyways, we were plunged back into the time of Aladdin. Mysterious robed figures reache out to thrust scarves into our arms, and gold and brass and copper vases and statues glittered in the cave-like shops. At first I was intimidated with the shouting and the haggling, but our guide Islam stuck protectively beside us, and my sense of adventure kicked in quickly. By the time I emerged an hour later, my arms were filled with treasure. I smile, thinking yet again how much Khan al-Kalili is like the writing life--some days I have to coax myself to go into the winding, unpredictable alley-ways of my story--but if I venture in, I always discover treasure of one kind or another!

Four Countries in Twelve Days, Oh My!

2009-03-29T12:46:00.000-07:00

And the traveling continues, most unexpectedly! Thanks to a lovely gift from my sis Kathy, I found myself March 10th, hopscotching to Rome and landing in Cairo for a twelve day pilgrimage of the Holy Land. I responded as a writer--I journalled every night when we came back to home base on our cruise ship, the Cristal, at least a bit, no matter how tired I was. And now I'm grateful as I read over the snippets of what we did each amazing day, to be able to break open each experience and relive it, coming to understand more fully as I write.

I'll share my insights with you, bit by bit: Egypt, Israel, Turkey and Greece. The very presence of these countries in my being now shapes my writing in ways that will surprise me, I know.

One bit for today--an experience in Galilee that rises quickly to the top for me. We stopped at the Mount of Beatitudes, overlooking the Sea of Galilee, a holy spot where tradition teaches Jesus spoke those eight wonderful Blesseds to the people. There on the green hillside sloping down to the sea our little group of pilgrims, in the Catholic tradition, celebrated Mass. Olive trees trembled in the afternoon breeze, their leaves green and silver. The birds (sparrows?) sang a spring song to us as we gathered on the top of that hill where Jesus taught almost 2000 years ago. And I had the joy and privilege of standing where Jesus stood and reading the Scriptures aloud at that Mass, Micah's words, "Shepherd your people, the flock of your inheritance." And then Psalm 103, "Bless the Lord, oh my soul; and all my being, bless his holy name."

It was a moment to be held tenderly for all my life. Someone told me afterwards my face glowed as I read--I'm sure it did. In that moment I realized the powerful blessing of God's goodness in a way that I will not forget.

So many moments in those twelve days. This is one of the joys of being a writer, to take each of these life experiences and hold it like a jewel, seeing new facets, then sharing the treasure in some way with my readers. I smile just thinking about it. Who knows what wonders will come forth?

Epiphany

2009-01-08T14:41:00.000-08:00

I love this time of year! In our church year, we call January 6th Epiphany, the time when the magi arrived bearing gifts for the Child Jesus. But also, symbolically the time when the wider world (symbolized by those three wise men) came to know about this newborn King.

The Epiphany was an Aha! moment for the world, and even the word epiphany has come to mean an awakening, a sudden knowing. I love it! This is one of the most exciting things about the writing life--those little light bulbs going off when a new awareness comes. Sometimes it's the moment when I suddenly understand my character, and what she's all about, like when I finally got why Ellie feels so connected to her mysterious, long-dead Great-aunt Eleanore, in my newly finished Finding Nonna.

Sometimes it's a great plot twist, something unexpected, that comes in the middle of the night, or when I'm out on a moodling walk, like that Aha! moment I discovered what happened to the cruel Red-bearded soldier in Two Moon Journey, that was going to be mean a life and death decision for Shanote.

Sometimes the Epiphany is wordless, a feeling, something moving inside me, like the moment I had just after midnight New Year's Day, our neighborhood sky dripping bits of glitter from fireworks, and the snow covered trees glowing white in the velvet night. I stood there by the window, feeling an inner joy, an excitement for this year to come.

Kids have this excitement, this willingness to watch, to be surprised. See the watchful look on my granddaughter Cecilia's face? She's ready for the epiphanies of this year.

And this is my New Year's hope and prayer for you. May we stay awake in our deepest being, watching and listening for those epiphanies, great and small. May we see and hear them all.

Ringing out the Old Year

2008-12-31T20:32:00.000-08:00

Three hours to go before 2009, and I am determined to do one more post to my Blog for 2008.
This is my commitment to blog more often in this coming year.

Blogging (for me) is a means of noticing some specific event of my life, searching out the meaning of that in a bigger way, and that making it truly mine by sharing it with you. For example, I (along with the rest of my fellow Seattle folk) have just come through two weeks of snow and ice, of postponed Christmas gatherings, and slippery, slushy roads.

For most of us in western Washington, this is unusual, and not all of us coped so well, quite a few getting truly stir-crazy and attempting icy hills with cars that should have stayed in warm garages.

I admit I loved being snowed in. I would like to say I wrote fast and furiously, reworking my Finding Nonna revision, and I did do a bit of that. But mostly I played Christmas carols, baked tons of cookies, made snow angels, walked in the snow (and yes, skidded on the ice at times, but in my hiking boots, not in my car.) I found it altogether lovely, and my one concern was the safety of family and friends who at times were out driving around.

My daughter, visiting from California, was snowbound with me and we loved cocooning in at night watching old Christmas movies, and eating (I regret to say) LOTS of those Christmas cookies I made.

So, did I waste my time, that precious writing time?

I don't think so.

I think I filled up my writing soul in a delightful way, as I looked out at those feathery flakes coming down, and the bare branch tree in my neighbor's yard, even the tiniest twig of it magically crusted with snow. I don't write fantasy novels, but that fairyland tree could easily inspire me to try one!

My spirit feels at peace this New Year's eve, rested in a deep way that I haven't felt for awhile.
I have just talked to (or left messages) for each of my five children, and I am ready to begin anew.

The snow is melting now, even the most cautious of snow chickens (like me) can get back on the road again. The postponed Christmas gatherings can take place, people can get to each other without sliding off into a ditch on the way.

But in that hunkering-down time when the snow was falling, falling, falling, and the roads were icy, I filled up that deep part of me writing soul.

Let the New Year begin!

A Berlin Baby and Other Joys

2008-10-30T17:38:00.000-07:00

I'm back! It's been an amazing few months: An end-of-summer trip to Berlin, Germany to hold my brand new grandbaby Cecilia, who of course, is strikingly beautiful, and coos in both German and English. You may suspect I'm stretching it just a bit, since Cecilia is just two months old now, but that's how it sounded to me Saturday, as she told me a long story in her coo language.

Cecilia is richly blessed with a trumpet-playing papa (my son) and a dancer mama: Christiane who was born in East Germany, and who you will soon see is quite beautiful. Besides the great joy of being with this loving family for three weeks, I had the remarkable experience of writing some of my chapters for Finding Nonna sitting on the rocks by the waterfall at Victoria Park, my home away from home in Berlin. Not only are there wooded paths for wandering as I pondered just what Ellie would do to discover Nonna's secret, Victoria Park also has a great outdoor cafe with lecker eis (delicious ice cream). Each day I rewarded myself for my roughed-out chapter, by ordering " eins waffel mit eins kugel vanille und eins kugel erdbeere." (one cone with one scoop vanilla and one scoop strawberry.)

All in all, it was a lovely three weeks.
Less than 24 hours after I returned from Berlin, I welcomed my 4 year-old grandson from Santa Fe, New Mexico, along with his mommy and daddy, for ten days of blackberry picking, visiting with cousins, going as high as we could on the swings, buying two new swordtails for our aquarium, going to the Turtle Park, making muffins, making a magic wand, and other such delightful pursuits.

I rejoice in saying I suffered little Jet Lag from the Berlin trip--there just wasn't time for it!

And now the third Rejoicing I want to share with you all: I finished my revision of Finding Nonna this week. My writing group, the Diviners (see picture with the blog entry before this) gave me a round of applause. I was a little startled when I got to the end--somehow it just didn't seem that could happen, after all the time I've been working on this book.

Yes, I still have some rewriting to do--I've been at this business long enough to know that. I will be printing the book out this week and reading it all the way through to see what I still need to do before I begin marketing it. But for now, tonight, I am smiling, my heart happy at all the surprising insights, and the unexpected action scenes (who knew that Mark was going to be a skateboarder? Not me, at least not when I started.)

As I sign off from this first entry after my summer absence, I promise to be back much sooner this time around. In the meantime, my hope is for all of us to keep our hearts open to the Rejoicings all around us, be they cooing babies, double scoop erdbeere cones, or finished chapters of our books.

Celebrations on the Journey

2008-07-27T12:56:00.000-07:00

Pictured here, Holly Cupala, Katherine Grace Bond, Janet Lee Carey,
our celebrated author,Molly Blaisdell, Judy Bodmer, and myself, Peggy
Not pictured: Justina Chen Headley, and Dawn Knight

The trials of the writing journey can sometimes discourage us, and then how thankful I am for my writing group, the Diviners. We meet each Wednesday afternoon to read and critique each other's work, to console during hard times, and to celebrate the grand events of our writing lives. This past week was one such glorious event, as we gathered to celebrate our dear Molly Blaisdell's new book, Rembrandt and the Boy Who Drew Dogs, just out through Barron's Publishing. Molly has such a fresh and wonderful take on Rembrandt's life through the eyes of his son Titus. This book is going to be a must-read for teachers, librarians, and lots of delighted kids, and we are rejoicing with our dear Molly! We cheered her (note the pom-pons) and had fun with flowers, cards and gifties of a writerly sort.

We did our work, too, reading and giving feedback on current chapters we'd brought, feeling fresh energy from our time of rejoicing. I left smiling, newly confirmed to keep on keeping on. The writing journey is worth it, and these joyful celebrations are one of the ways I remember this.

Catching Air

2008-06-28T16:37:00.001-07:00

My almost-ten year-old grandson Jordan attended skateboard camp this week, and I, as his chauffeur learned right along with him. It was pretty cool, if a bit unnerving to watch Jordan zip up and down ramps and half pipes, trying out new tricks. The first trick to learn is the ollie, I discovered. This involves slamming down the tail of the board and leaping up in such a way as to "catch air." It looks easy when it's done right, the skater and board coming up as one.

But it's scary, too, and painful when skater and board don't reconnect in the right way. Jordan has an impressive-looking bruise on his left shin as testimony to this.

Still, the ollie is the basis for all the other skateboard tricks, including the kickflip, which mesmerized me as I watched the experts do it, leaping up, nudging their boards to spin in the air, then reconnecting gracefully: board, skater, and ramp.

Jordan and I both learned a powerful lesson this week: If you want to be a master skateboarder, you have to be willing to "catch air" no matter how painful the learning may be.

Writing (and life) are a lot like that too. Catching air means leaving behind the firm ground and taking at least a little leap. This summer, I've committed to doing just that with my current book project, Finding Nonna. I'm leaving behind the firm earth of the old plot and leaping up to catch some unexpected story twists involving an Italian greengrocer, a neurotic dog, and, as of this week, a skateboarding friend for Ellie.

I have to admit, as I leave the terra firma of the old plot, which was quite serviceable, my stomach is sometimes churning. But wow! As I catch air, and sometimes land on my feet by the end of the chapter (like yesterday) my heart soars. Each day I'm getting better with my writing Ollies.

I think this week I'll try a kickflip.

Singing to the Birds

2008-05-19T13:02:00.000-07:00

I saw a woman singing to the birds this weekend. She was standing under a gigantic willow tree in my favorite Juanita Bay Park, and chirping and trilling at two birds perched high up in the branches. She eagerly identified the two birds for me--a dusky flycatcher, and a common yellow-throat. "You just missed a Wilson's Warbler," she told me.

"I bet the birds love it, when you sing back to them," I said.

Her face lit up. "I know they do. If I were Cinderella, the birds would make a dress for me."

What a delightfully startling statement!

I will always remember this woman and her love for birds because of this. It made me ponder my own writing: Do I say things in fresh and startling ways, so that my reader will be pulled in and want to read on?

At a recent writing conference our facilitator at a round table discussion urged us to do just this. "Shock the Broca," Jim Rubart told us, explaining about that very small part of the brain (the broca) that filters out the ordinary, the usual, those expected words we all seem to spout in our first drafts.

In writing, as well as in life, we want to be heard and remembered. I think that's why I put iguanas and llamas in so many of my kid stories. Who could ignore a llama named Rama? That's what I hope at least.

And so, as I write today's chapter for Finding Nonna, I'm looking for ways to shock my readers' brocas. It has to be true to the story, of course. I can't just put in dramatic language for the sake of it, without moving the story forward. But I'm having fun today with the once ordinary Mom next door, who now mutters in french when she gets upset. And of course, she has some startling things to say to Ellie about the injured snow goose Bela.

Am I tantalizing you? I hope so. I want to shock your broca, just a little bit, and encourage you to use fresh and unusual language, both in life and in writing.

Who knows what you may sing up?

Mazatlan Musings

2008-04-06T14:49:00.000-07:00

Here I am back from Mazatlan, and it was truly as wonderful as I'd hoped. Iguanas (BIG ONES) on the sidewalks and in the trees, walks on the beach, checking out the flamingos with my grandson Weston, and just relaxing and pondering by the pool as we ate shrimp fajitas. (Mazatlan is the shrimp capital of the world, or so they told us. )

And yes, I did work on Finding Nonna. Okay, so a lot of it was subliminal, but I came back with a good feeling for this rewrite. I am up to Chapter 6, as well as back to the general fast-forward of life, with library workshops, and teaching writing classes.

But besides just the fun of Mazatlan, something else happened that is a blessing for me now in this busy time. To explain what happened, I need to tell you a story that our pastoral coordinator, Kathi Rowley told us at a workshop, just before I headed for Mazatlan:

The CEO of a big California company headed for Africa for a safari vacation. When he arrived, he hired some tribesmen to carry for him on the safari--he had lots of stuff.

The first day the CEO and the tribesmen got up very, very early and traveled very, very far, very, very fast.

The second day, the CEO and the tribesmen got up very, very early and traveled very, very far, very, very fast.

The third day, the same thing--the CEO and the tribesmen got up very, very early and traveled very, very far, very, very fast.

The fourth day, the CEO got up very, very early and found the tribesmen sitting under a big tree, looking out into the distance. They refused to move. "What's going on?" the CEO asked his interpreter. "What do they think they're doing?"

The interpreter looked at the CEO. "They are waiting for their Souls to catch up with their Bodies," he said.

And that's what happened for me in Mazatlan. In that time of reading, and resting, and reflecting, of looking at beautiful sunsets, and basking in the honest delight and wisdom of my three year-old granson, my soul finally caught up with my body. I think that will stand me in good stead these next busy weeks.

But I know this is a blessing that needs to be renewed consciously and often.

As for me, I plan at least twice a day to stop, to reflect, to breathe deeply, and to let my Soul catch up with my Body.

I hope you'll do the same.

Heading for Mazatlan

2008-03-08T12:15:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I know I said I wasn't going on so many trips this year, that I was staying here at home in rainy Seattle and write, write, writing. And I have been, for the last two months, faithfully plugging away on Finding Nonna, like I committed to in this very blog. I'm actually starting to get excited again, researching snow geese, and Alzheimer's Disease (both in the book) and having fun getting to know Ellie and Nonna all over again. I'm up to Chapter six, reworking as I go.

But now I have a chance to go to Mazatlan--warm sunny Mazatlan with my Deb, her husband Eric and our 3 year-old Weston, the brilliant kid I've told you about, who last week, sitting in the tub, saying "Bam, Bang, Crash" as he played, called out to his mom--"Mommy, is 'bam' onomatopoeia?" Oh yes, I need to invite this 3 year-old grandson of mine in to do a class for my writing students!

But in the meantime, I'm heading for Mazatlan with them this Monday, and will be doing most of this week's writing on the beach. I do have a laptop, but often on vacation I just take my notebook and pen--and am surprised at the new and exciting plot twists my stories take when I make this occasional switch in my writing mode.

It's a perfect time for a fresh take, too--I've just gotten to the part of the book where I'm getting a bit tangled. Which way to go? What happens next? How do I get to this beautifully plotted end I already have in mind for this book?

I'm betting a week in the balmy sunshine and tropical breezes of Mazatlan will break open some brand new possibilities for Ellie and Nonna, and Bela the Snow Goose.

So now I'm off to pack--a hat, some sunblock, my writing notebook and pen. I'll keep you posted when I get back, on how it all went. In the meantime, I wish you all a creative vacation of your own, whether it's Hawaii, Mazatlan, or your own backyard deck. Any change of pace or place brings new life to our hungering creative souls.

So this week, create that space and enjoy!

Springing into Spring

2008-02-16T11:42:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I know it's not really spring, but this morning the sun is peeking out, and I saw a yellow crocus, my first one, while out walking. Not only that, I'm eagerly springing back into a rewrite I've put off for a long time, a novel called Finding Nonna. (In one version, it was called Spring Forward, Ellie, which may be why I feel this fresh excitement to work on it, now with a hint of Spring in the air. )

I'm publicly proclaiming to all of you that I will pursue this time, and get this book completed and off to market. It's a book dear to my heart, dealing as it does with a tough topic: Ellie's beloved grandmother has Alzheimer's (early stage) and is coming to live with them.

But the book has humor as well, and a particularly personable Snow Goose.
Okay, that's all I'm going to say about it, remembering the writer's maxim, if we talk about a book too much, we tend not to write it!

So I'm signing off rather quickly this time. If you're looking for me, I'm holed up at the computer, boldly writing away, while outside on the deck two dark-eyed juncoes, who also believe it's Spring, are trilling along to keep me company.

A January Surprise

2008-01-27T17:31:00.000-08:00

Oh wonder! Oh Joy! I have the Starbird Ridge Snowflake in my possession--a gift from my sneaky Sis Nancy and her husband Mike. I so wanted it as a memory of my four years Starbird Ridge fiction series with Pockets Magazine. And once my dear family found out about the Robert's Snow auction to benefit cancer research, they decided to bid on the Starbird Ridge snowflake for me for a belated Christmas gift. There was a lot of bidding going on--thanks to all of you who decided to support this worthy cause.

But my sister persisted, and on January 4th, sitting at their kitchen table in Tucson, I opened the surprise gift and rejoiced. Anni Matsick, my illustrator for the series did such an amazing job of capturing the other Annie (Sammy's youngest sister in the story series.) And Haggis, the family Scottish Terrier! He makes me smile each time I look at Anni's rendering of him. The snowflake will soon be ensconced in a glass case and put in a place of honor here in my office, not only a joyful memory, but also an encouragement as I write, to bring to life my characters for each story, so that readers may have that jolt of recognition when they read, knowing this is a worthy character, real in the best sense of the word.

And now on to the New Year--so many books to be written. I'll be sharing that process with you in its many aspects--from simmering the "soup" of my daily life and skimming off the ideas, to applying writerly glue to the seat of my pants to stay attached to my computer chair each day, to weeding my writing garden as I revise.

There now, I've mixed three metaphors all in one sentence, just to make you all smile.
May this be a year of smiles for all of us.

Four Calling Birds

2007-12-28T17:59:00.000-08:00

It's the fourth day of Christmas (yes, I do count the 12 days--that's the only way I get my cards and cookies done during the season.) So today we celebrate four calling birds, and I'm pondering--what are the Four Calling Birds for me for this coming year? In my mind I see a white dove of peace swooping in, and that's my first calling bird--praying for peace, yes, in our world, and also in my own life.

Second calling bird: That cheerful chickadee who stays through the winter, coming to the bird feeder on our deck, not put off at all by the snow. Yes! He makes me smile, and gives me determination to get through the cold winter days.

Third calling bird. Okay, I'm thinking an eagle. We see them often here in the Northwest, majestic, soaring high over Lake Washington, not put off by the wild winds, but riding them. A good image for me to keep in mind when the tumultuous winds of life blow hard.

Fourth calling bird: A robin. A sign of spring--I know it will come: flowers and sunlight and the joyful chirping of that red-breasted beauty who shows up early, thank goodness, in our backyard cherry tree. Hooray for robins!

How about you? What are your Four Calling Birds? It's a fun thing to ponder, this fourth day of Christmas.

Home for Christmas

2007-12-18T11:37:00.000-08:00

I'm home again! Since I last blogged, I've spent ten days in Maui (with 3 grandkids, nine, three, and one-year) as well as 11 days with my 3 year-old grandson Weston in Santa Fe, New Mexico. And now I arrive home to our Pacific Northwest gray drizzle--but my heart is singing! There are Christmas lights everywhere, I have the carols playing, and I'm so grateful for this place I call Home.

I loved my visits with dear children and grandchildren. I will be blogging insights and memories from those trips for these next several months--from my first snorkeling ever, swimming with the giant turtles near Molokina--to my first ever Las Posadas celebration in historic Santa Fe Plaza this past Sunday.

But now, this rainy Tuesday, exactly one week until Christmas, I rejoice in the quiet moments in my own dear home to reflect on it all.

As a writer, I need this time. My soul hungers for it, like my body sometimes hungers for a bowl of my daughter's homemade soup. It warms me, comforts me, settles my spirit. From these quiet moments to reflect comes all that has meaning to me, both in my life and in my writing. Right now, this past month is still a blur to me, from my last hasty note to all of you when Anni's and my Snowflake finally posted (more about that later) to hastily packing shorts and sunblock for a trip in the Hawaii sunshine, to jumping waves at Wailea Beach with three-year-old Amanda, to making snow towers and throwing snowballs with three-year-old Weston in his Santa Fe front yard two days ago!

Are you confused? Me too! But now as I sequester (even if only for two days) and reflect here at home, I will sort it all out. I journaled, of course, on my trips, and I will be re-reading, praying, thinking, looking for the meaning of it all, pulling out those jewels of Truth that reside in each precious moment and event, and sharing some of it with you, some of it in my stories, all of it more richly in my life.

For this, I am so grateful to be Home for Christmas.

The Snowflake has Arrived!

2007-11-12T18:24:00.001-08:00

Yippee and double yippee! Our Snowflake is finally posted on the Robert's Snow website. Anni just emailed to tell me and we are both thrilled that it is finally up. If you'd like to take a look, go to www.robertssnow.com, click on View 2007 Snowflakes, click on Auction 1, November 19-23, and scan down. Anni's snowflake, "Snow at Starbird Ridge" is second from the bottom. Isn't it beautiful? Actually you can see it in the blog entry just below, but you 'll need to go to the Robert's Snow website for bidding which starts a week from today, November 19th. What a wonderful way to make life better for so many--bid on a snowflake, help fund cancer research that will save lives--and get a lovely Christmas gift for someone in the process!

We'll update you again after the auction. Just a few more days and I am off to Hawaii with my daughter and their family, including three kids (ages one, three, and nine--Grandma will come back with lots of story ideas!) Hopefully the time will include some lounging in the sun as well. I'm smiling already, thinking of those balmy Hawaiian breezes and blue skies.

Blessings to you all this Thanksgiving week. There is much to be thankful for. I'm going to make a list and post it right here above my computer--how about you?

The Snowflake is Coming! The Snowflake is Coming!

2007-11-06T19:35:00.000-08:00

This is a quick note to let all you faithful readers who have been emailing Anni and me that you are indeed right: Our Snowflake is not yet available to view on the Robert's Snow website. Yes, it is scheduled to be in the first auction, as described in our Blog Interview below, and yes, we are promised it will be posted any day now! We'll exuberantly notify you right here, as soon as that happens.

In the meantime, keep looking, and enjoy all the other wonderful Snowflakes that are posted on that amazing website.

We'll all watch together for the rest of the Snow(flake) fall!

Robert's Snow!

2007-10-24T22:40:00.000-07:00

This blog is a bit longer than usual but with good reason! Something wonderful is happening all over the United States now through December 7, and I have the joy of being part of it, thanks to Anni Matsick, my illustrator for our Starbird Ridge story series that has been running in Pockets Magazine (www.pockets.org) for the past two years.

Anni is one of 200 children's illustrators who has joined Robert's Snow: for Cancer's Cure. She’s transformed a five-inch wooden snowflake into an original piece of art, and Hooray! She chose two of my favorite characters from the Starbird Ridge series to put on the snowflake: mischievous Annie--no relation to Anni, the illustrator :) --and Haggis, Annie’s feisty Scottish terrier.

The snowflakes are now on display in the Children's Gallery at the Danforth Museum of Art in Framingham, Massachusetts. They’ll be auctioned off online to benefit sarcoma research at the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute during three online auctions, on Nov. 19 - 23, Nov. 26 - 30 and Dec. 3 - 7. You can preview the snowflakes online (and if you’d like, place a bid) by going to www.robertssnow.com.

In our great excitement at being part of this event, Anni and I decided to do an interview to post here on my blog. Here it is below, along with a picture of Anni Matsick and the snowflake she has designed for the auction. I’m asking the questions, and Anni is answering.

Why did you choose Annie for the snowflake?

Annie is a charming, spirited little character who would enjoy a good snowfall so she popped into my mind instantly when I was thinking of possibilities. I’m into illustrating the third year of the series so I know her well and I particularly enjoy the episodes where she appears. Especially if she is wearing her red cowboy boots or has done her own pigtails. :)

As you mentioned, we're into writing and illustrating the third year of Starbird Ridge. Does any particular episode stand out in your recollection?

Yes, the ones where you made me work hard researching things mentioned in the story! I had to find visual references for bear bells, flame flowers, an Ethiopian cocoa pot, and many more things that figured in the plots. That’s how you and I got to know each other, through the email exchanges. Chris Schechner (Pockets art director) and I always laugh about having to contact Peggy again when we are stumped. We always agree that’s what makes your stories so special, introducing new, interesting things to your readers.

I have to admit, Anni—I do get a kick out of throwing in those little unusual details, and I smile when I see you figuring out ways to picture those in the series. I’m wondering though--Do you ever get tired of showing the same characters?

People asked me that when I did Goofus and Gallant for Highlights Magazine over a nine year period. The characters seem very real to me after a while so it becomes easier to portray their postures and emotions. There are quite a few characters in Starbird Ridge so enough variety exists to keep me interested.

As a closet artist/illustrator myself, I’m curious. What medium did you use? Could you describe your process for us?

I had to buy a new set of acrylics since I haven’t used them since college. My work for publishing is in watercolor. I practiced a bit on a piece of gessoed cardboard. The snowflake has two layers of gesso which I sanded for a nice, smooth surface. My composition was worked out in a sketch on tracing paper in reverse, so that when I rubbed it the pencil lines transferred to the snowflake surface. I began with light washes of color, diluting the acrylic paint with water, to lay in the palette. After that, I used the paint full strength to develop the image in small brush strokes. The facial expression is always the first thing to establish, then I work around it. I kind of loosened up on Haggis, with the snow on his coat.

Once the paintings dried I applied quite a few light coats of spray varnish to seal the image and create an even surface that I think enhances the work.

And I know readers may want to know this as well—could you tell us your background and professional experience?

My degree in painting from Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh gave me a strong foundation in drawing and a valuable aesthetic sense. I’ve worked for close to twenty years in children’s illustration.

Looking at the snowflake you designed, and seeing how natural Annie and Haggis look on this snowy day, I have to ask you--Do you live in a place where it snows?

My home is in a college town in central Pennsylvania so I am very familiar with snowy winters! Snow has been lucky for me, since I acquired my reps Cornell & McCarthy when they saw an image depicting children making snow angels in an ad directory. It was one of my first covers for Pockets, which has been a great association over the years.

I recall the debut issue of Starbird Ridge had a snow scene on the cover done by you!

Yes, and the winning bidder will get a signed copy as a bonus.

Where can we see more of your work online?

Samples are on my reps’ website and at Picturebook online:

www.cmartreps.com

www.picture-book.com

Anni, I’m so excited about this project, and so honored that you chose two of our Starbird Ridge characters for this worthy cause. Thanks for sharing with my blog readers some of your story. It will be fun to update everyone after the auction is over.

I’m excited about participating too, Peggy, and having two charming characters to make the snowflake special. It will be fun to watch the bidding!

And a final note to all of you: Remember, you can preview the snowflakes online (and if you’d like, place a bid) by going to www.robertssnow.com . Anni’s snowflake will be in Auction One, November 19-23.

The master calendar for other snowflake illustrator features can be found at: http://blaine.org/sevenimpossiblethings/?page_id=935

Click on any of the artists' names on the list at bottom to go to each blog.

And if you'd like to go to my (Peggy's) website to see what else I've been up to recently, come on over, at www.peggyking.com

Walking in the Rain

2007-09-30T16:10:00.000-07:00

The last day of September--how did that happen? It's pouring rain here in Seattle--so nicely seasonal, I have to smile. My grandson Jordan (age 9) and I just walked down our hill and back up with umbrellas and lots of good cheer. I'm guessing not too many folks would be wildly excited about an hour-long steep hike at 9 AM on a rainy Sunday morning, even if the reward was breakfast at McDonald's. (or maybe, especially not if!)

But if you're nine, and you're full of Sunday morning energy, and you love McDonald's Sausage McMuffin, and if you're celebrating your birthday with your Grandma who is almost as joyful as you are, well then, that gives a whole new light to it.

So Jordan and I discovered together the great satisfaction of feeling cold rain water in our shoes as we walked not around, but in the little streams coursing down our hill. We laughed together as our umbrellas turned inside out in the wind. We made silly rhymes as cars splashed us in their hurry to get to where they were going.

And we plunked ourselves down, warm and cozy at McDonald's, right at the foot of our hill, and enjoyed our well-earned, not-so-healthy breakfast. After all, on birthdays, especially cold and drizzly ones, we get to do things like that.

As the rainy days of fall and winter set in, it's a good thing to remember--how many unexpected joys can we find, if we just keep that nine year-old kid outlook?

I plan to remember this as I hunker down at the computer these next few gray and rainy months to write. But of course, I'll walk in the rain as well. You never know what new adventure might be waiting out there!

I'll keep you posted!

Stretching Our Horizons

2007-08-30T10:44:00.000-07:00

I'm writing this week about an Inuit girl, Buniq, stepsister of Sammy in my Starbird Ridge series. I've discovered a wonderful word: silatujuq. It's the Inuit word for one who is wise, and it translates literally, Endowed with a Large Sky.

Isn't that great? I think of a visit we made to Montana a few years ago, and remember how awesome it was, that Big Sky stretching as far as I could see. Here in the Northwest, we have evergreen trees poking up into the sky everywhere, and while I love living in a forest land, it does make it hard to see the unbroken sky. The other night I went out on our deck at 4 AM to view the eclipse. Though the night was clear, my view of the moon was blocked by the tall evergreens in our back yard. In shoes and pajamas, I wandered our neighborhood until I found enough open space to view the orange-shadowed moon.

So it is in my writing sometimes: I see little pieces of things, get part of the picture. It takes awhile for that first flash of a story to develop into a cohesive plot, for those glimmers of a shadowy person to take on the solid shape of a fully formed and unique character in my story.

And in the process, I need to do a lot of thinking, meditating, walking, moodling--getting to that place where I have an unbroken view of this story. For it's not just the plot and characters I need to see clearly, it's that inner life, the insight and understanding that comes to me as I'm writing, something I can't always put into words, but which is the true heart of the story. It's what gives me (and hopefully the reader) a little chill, a sense deep inside that here is truth, here is meaning, here is something to nourish and remember, be it Miles freeing the true victim from the Shriker in Janet Lee Carey's The Beast of Noor, or Stephen finding the only way possible to save his sister Maria in Helen Szablya's and my book, The Fall of the Red Star.

This week, as I come to see the bigger picture for Buniq and Sammy, and perhaps the bigger picture for this whole Starbird Ridge series, I will take time to journal, to ponder, to pray, to walk--to get to that place where I can see more clearly.

May all of us this week, in whatever we encounter, find a place to stretch our horizons, to discover that we are indeed, silatujuq, Endowed with a Large Sky.

Dreams In the Night

2007-08-10T14:00:00.000-07:00

This whole thing of finding ideas for our stories can be a challenge. There are ideas everywhere, of course, but which ones will have staying power? Which ones will hook into our hearts in a way that we'll have the energy to finish that story we started with such eagerness. In my next few blogs I'll share some things that work for me.

Number one thing (for me) is the idea HAS to be a sound from my heart, like the title of this blog. That is, it has to tie in emotionally for me in some strong way. That's why I like to pay attention to my dreams. Yes, I mean my real dreams, the ones that come in the night as I'm sleeping.

But how to do that? And how does it help? Lots of folks say they can't remember their dreams, and others don't want to. What I've found is that I CAN remember at least some of my dreams, with a simple prompt which I'll share in a moment. And I've also found, if I write down, "journal" my dreams right away in the morning, I often find a spark of a story in that seemingly jumbled dream made of of lots of images from my previous day.

Here's how it works: I tell myself, just before I fall asleep, "Tonight I'm going to remember my dreams." Then I go to sleep. As soon as I wake in the morning, before getting out of bed, I think, "What did I dream?" After a night or two of doing this, I begin to remember at least tattered shreds of my dreams, and I write these down right away in my journal. Oftentimes, even writing them down, little "Aha!" moments come to me, and I'll see a meaning I didn't before--something I'm struggling with clarifies, or an insight I didn't have before comes to me. Some of these help me in my life, some of them come into my stories. I think I've shared before in another blog, that the ideas that work for me in creating story are almost always two ideas coming together, creating a spark that runs right up the back of my neck, sometimes giving me a literal chill. Oftentimes one of the ideas will be something that is troubling me, or that I'm struggling with, and that is the piece that often surfaces as I'm writing down my dream. When that piece comes together with another idea--could be a story I'm working on, or something one of my grandkids does, or something I read about in the paper--ZING! I'll feel that little tingle up my neck, and I know I've got an idea that's got staying power.

Example: An actual dream I had a while back. I was climbing a grassy hill, trying to get to a little stone house at the top. Behind me was a roar, and I realized a monster was heading up the hill behind me. I ran, trying to reach the top of the hill, the little stone house, and safety. But you know how it is, running in a dream--slow going. The monster was gaining, though I was running as fast as I could. I made it though, to the stone cottage, out of breath, the monster hot on my heels, and I turned the door knob, struggling to open the door.

It was locked.

The Monster was upon me, and I couldn't get into that house, that place of safety.

I stood there, hopeless, helpless, waiting to be destroyed by this huge furry monster that was breathing over my shoulder. Then, looking like one of the monsters in Maurice Sendak's book, this giant being reached around me, unlocked the door, and gently let me in.

Wow.

I wrote down the dream, knowing even as I wrote it, the clear meaning: The very thing I fear the most will be the thing that lets me into the place where I most want to be.

What a profound truth. I've thought about this dream many times, in my own life, and in the life of my characters in my stories. At the time, in the book I was working on, SAFE AT HOME my main character Tony had to face the scary monster of his Mom's alcoholism. He spent a good part of the book determined not to look back over his shoulder and see that monster. But eventually he got brave enough and looked.

In the book I'm working on now, TWO MOON JOURNEY, Simu-quah has to face her own anger at the Red-Bearded Soldier who has been so cruel to her father. She avoids that for a long time, but of course in the climax chapter, she has to come face to face with her own anger and decide what to do about it. In this case Forgiveness opens the door and lets her into that place where she needs to go.

I've journaled lots of dreams over the years--and insights from those dreams have powered my stories in all kinds of ways, from specfic images or characters, to plot events, to sharp awareness of story theme.

Starting tonight, I challenge you to dream along with me, and write it all down in the morning.

Who knows what doors you'll unlock?

Down in the Valley

2007-07-27T14:01:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, we made a family trip to Rattlesnake Lake. The crew wanted to hike to the top of Rattlesnake Ledge. Part of me wanted to get to the top too, even though that sheer cliff drop at the top made my hands clammy to look at it. As it turned out, I wound up hiking just a little way up, then returning down with my little grandson Weston, whom I've written about before. The two of us had a lovely time on our return trip, Weston taking time to hug a tree (he was so delighted to find one slender enough to wrap his arms and really hug), and saying hi to every hiker, old and young, who passed us on their way up or down.

Down in the valley, we found a prime spot in the grass by the lake and used our binoculars to watch his two uncles, who made it all the way to the top of the mountain, and who were perched out on the very edge (yikes!) waving to us.

It was a different perspective down in the valley. Through Weston's eyes it was wonderful, seeing those on the mountain top and getting excited about them, but also thoroughly enjoying every thing around us, down in the valley. We pretended to be helicopter passengers on a big log, with Weston piloting us. We found some great rocks to pick up, rolled in the grass, and laughed as the wind off the lake tickled our faces. Once more it's a lesson for me, both in writing and in life. It's great to be on the mountaintop, but most of us spend a whole lot of time down in the valleys. Why waste energy wishing we were on the mountaintop? Wave to those who are there at the moment, cheer them on--and pay attention to all the wonders in this part of the valley we're in. Right now my writing valley includes some delightful short stories for Pockets, some brainstorming for my next writing project, dinking around with my almost ready to market novel, and tons of everyday experience "research" as I enjoy all my family members coming through for visits here in the lovely Northwest.

And come to think of it, that is the valley of my life right now, and it's a pretty wonderful place to be. It's blessing to have kids and grandkids and friends all around me through this summertime, to do the ordinary things together. I'll have the Mountain Top experiences again, I know. For now, there's a lot of joy right here in the valley.

Santa Fe Musings

2007-06-27T13:11:00.000-07:00

Wow! I'm not doing so well with this blogging thing, despite all my good intentions. But here we go again. I'm just back from a wonderful 11 day visit with my daughter and son-in-law in Santa Fe, New Mexico, and with my exceedingly brilliant 2 1/2 year-old grandson, Weston.

I know all grandmas think their grandkids are brilliant, but this child is not only speaking like an adult, he's also pondering life in a way most 2 year-olds don't do. I think he's going to be a writer!

Just one small example (which I will use somewhere in a story, I know.)Weston was sitting in his high chair, eating raspberries and staring thoughtfully into space. After a few moments of silence he said, "Mommy, do bunnies have fur so they won't get sunburned?"

I smiled, thinking ah! If only we were furred, I wouldn't need to lather on all that sunblock I was using in that lovely Santa Fe sunshine. But what if we were furred? All different sorts of colors and textures?

I found myself pondering all sorts of story ideas while with Weston--his way of perceiving life delights me. He loves to talk about and draw "plicky fish," his own invention as far as I know. We had lots of discussions about plicky fish, and I must say the world would be empty without them, now that I have seen them through Weston's eyes. According to his most recent picture, they have brilliant blue eyes, a generous mouth that extends the width of their body, and two delightully designed orange fins to keep their balance. Plicky fish have great adventures too.

I can hardly wait until Weston writes about them.

In the meantime, here I am back from Santa Fe, with my next Pockets deadline staring me in the face. As I sit down to begin, I pray to bring to my writing just a touch of Weston's joyful and creative insight.

And who knows? Maybe even a plicky fish or two.

Putting it All Together--Life and Writing

2007-04-22T10:58:00.000-07:00

I find myself always searching for ways to integrate all the many parts of my life: my family--those dear grandkids whom I never get enough time with; my writing, ditto, my church sharing group, those ordinary business-y things like grocery shopping and paying the bills, a time for solitude, journaling and prayer. Not necessarily in that order--but all these things and more compete for my energy and attention.

This week I've found an answer to my dilemma, a new way of looking at my life and integrating all the parts of it. I'm reading a wonderful book, immersed in the sacred, by Kathy Coffey, In it she talks about what she calls the sacraments of the world--signs and symbols of daily life that point beyond themselves, to something mysterious and holy. In her words, "This world shouts of the sacred."

And I realize this is what I yearn for in every part of my life, from my writing to my daily small encounters with others, to find meaning, to find the sacredness in all of this. So giving a cup of juice to my two-year-old granddaughter can be a sacred communion. Writing a fiction story about the Flower of Forgiveness connects me with all others who have struggled to let go of a hurt, big or small. Smoothing on my favorite Rose Lotion in the morning is a symbol of the sacred annointing I want to give each person I meet, a tenderness to carry through their day.

I'm excited! As I read more about sacrament and symbol, I'm more and more finding a connecting meaning between each small action of my day, a richness that makes my throat ache.

And now, as I sign off to head out and do some gardening, I look forward even to the weeding of the dandelions--another sacramental sign. I'll be pondering all those things I want to weed out of my life. I'll remember this the next time I'm revising a story--weeding out the dandelions, making room for those azaleas and spring pansies instead.

Starting Over

2007-03-10T14:23:00.000-08:00

Those of you who've been checking in have noticed it's been a long time since I've posted a blog entry. There's a good reason.
On October 23rd, just ten days after my last posting, my beloved husband of 42 years entered the hospital, seriously ill. He died November 24th, the day after Thanksgiving.
This blog is not a personal blog, in the sense that I am not sharing my grieving online, but I do want to acknowledge all the care and support I've had from our writing community, from the many cards and letters, to the flowers and wonderful meals sent, especially by SCBWI members and board. Our family has been truly surrounded by love and care in these hard months.
Now it is time for me to get moving. I am writing again, starting to catch up on my Pockets stories (and many thanks to my editors there, so understanding of my missed deadlines these past few months.) I'm also pondering what comes next: Start a new book? Finish that one novel that keeps needing a rewrite? Continue on with the next book for my Chapter book series? I'm listening hard for that Sound from my Heart to get me moving again.
For right now, it means committing to my writing time, even when I feel like I'm just wandering in a writerly wasteland. Two hours a day, that's what I've committed to for right now--and to do it first in the morning, before I start in with the business-y stuff. (Lots of business-y stuff after a loved one dies.)
So this week I'm researching the Cactus League, Forgiveness, ADHD, Emus, Australia and Skateboarding--all for different aspects of my writing projects.
That's one of the best things about writing--all those different worlds I get to visit, via the internet and books, as I delve into my own story worlds. It feels good to laugh with Miguel as he creates a baking soda/vinegar volcano with his little brothers, to follow Sammy as she figures out how to survive the play director who has just betrayed her, to rejoice with Simu-quah as she discovers the Secret of the Corn.
Here's to each of you--to the writing worlds you will visit and create this week.
We'll rejoice together as we hear and share all those new Sounds from our hearts!

A Party to Remember

2006-10-13T17:04:00.000-07:00

October 13, 2006

Wow! Last night at Parkplace Books was an evening to remember. Over 150 of you attended--the store was packed! Sandor Boldishar brought his homemade sausage sandwiches (Seattle Times featured him yesterday, holding up a rack of his freshly made sausages.) He and his wife Christine brought trays of Beigli as well, a delicious Hungarian pastry. We all feasted while we listened to Orvan Laszlo playing violin, with Sue Iceley's amazing Dance Troupe performing traditional Hungarian dances from different regions.

We had a surprise appearance of the Carpathian Quartet, just arrived here in the states from Hungary, and eager to give us a taste of their music before their concert tonight.

Food and live Hungarian music and dancing--what a celebration. Helen Szablya, who co-wrote The Fall of the Red Star with me, retold the story of her family's escape in 1956, and I had an opportunity to share some of my experience in writing the book, as well as reading Chapter 20--the first attempt to escape in an old convoy truck.

We had prayed this would be an evening for the community to come together in joyful celebration of faith and freedom, and it was everything we could imagine. We laughed and cried together, heard many sharings of different escape experiences, from the many Hungarian-Americans who joined us. Everyone left Parkplace Books with their heart at least a little bit warmer than it was when they came in.

I smile today, remembering--so many sounds echoing in my heart from last night.

Party Time!

2006-09-12T17:54:00.000-07:00

September 12, 2006

Wow! It's great fun when old books get new life. This coming month (October) marks the 50th anniversary of the 1956 Hungarian Revolution. And that means that all over the U.S. there are celebrations and commemorations going on as the Hungarian people remember an event that shook the entire world. It just so happens that Helen Szablya and I co-authored a book about that amazing time, and now we get to celebrate it all over again. The book is THE FALL OF THE RED STAR, a historical fiction account of Stephen Kovary, a 14 year-old freedom fighter and his family's harrowing escape from Hungary. The celebration is a Hungarian Freedom Party, which Helen and I are hosting Thursday, October 12th at Parkplace Books in Kirkland, Washington. You're all invited! We'll have a Hungarian dance demonstration, and Hungarian goodies to taste, and Helen will tell the story of her own family's escape with their 1o day-old baby. It's a startling story (can you imagine having to teach a baby not to cry at all, in order to save all your lives? Helen tells how it's done!) And in spite of it all, this story is one of joyful hope, of a people of strong faith and integrity, who know what True Freedom is all about.
I'll be filling you in on the details as the day gets closer--hope lots of you will join us for this evening of music and dance and exciting discovery. (Not to mention some delicious treats.)

Half-Full Moon. Half Cupful of Wisdom

2006-08-02T21:31:00.000-07:00

August 2

A beautiful perfect half-moon as I walked a few minutes ago, and the faint fragrance of wild roses, remembrances of long ago summer evenings. Tonight it's cool, even a little breezy, but I'm still thinking of a red-hot evening two weeks ago, when I got to listen to Katherine Grace Bond read from her new book, Considering Flight at the Duvall Speakeasy Cafe. I don't think anyone in the packed room escaped without a heart-touch, as Katherine laid bare her own heart. The father-daughter relationship! So poignant, so painful, so capable of joy. That night we all went away pondering our own family relationships, aching perhaps, for what might have been--but also stirred by Katherine's readings to the hope of healing, to the good that is there even in the imperfect.

And tonight, I'm thinking of my own Dad, of family trips to Mt. Lemmon, singing our silly songs, of his nightly bowl of popcorn before bed (and sneaking us a napkinful for under our pillow, when he came in to say goodnight, even though we'd already brushed our teeth.) My dad was impetuous and loving, quick to anger, quick to forgive, always believing in us. He was so proud of me when my first book (Coming Home) was published. "I always turn it face out when I see it in the bookstore," he told me. "But I'm afraid if I tell the owner you're my daughter, she'll think I'm the alcoholic in the book." (He wasn't.)

Thanks to Katherine Grace Bond and her reading, I'm remembering a lot about my Dad this couple of weeks. He wasn't perfect, but he was close to it, in my eyes. The dads in my stories usually come through in the end. And even when they don't, there's a half-cupful of wisdom to be gained.

Hooray for half-moons, as well as full! Hooray for the half cupful of love as well as the full

,

Sounds from my friend's heart

2006-07-21T17:38:00.000-07:00

July 21, 2006

We're sizzling here, in more ways than one! It's 90 degrees in our house right now, and we Northwesterners wilt once we hit 80. (I know, no sympathy from the rest of the country, where many of you have temps well over 100 degrees today. )

But the REAL sizzle, the wonderful sizzle I want to write about today is The Beast of Noor, my writing friend's new young adult fantasy. This sound from the heart of author Janet Lee Carey is the story of the Shriker, a massive beast of incredible strength, who roams the dark woods of Noor, killing those who encounter him, held in the spell of a long ago curse. Even more, it's the story of Hannah and Miles, brother and sister, seeking to break the curse of their long ago ancestor who started it all.

For me the most wonderful thing about Janet's book is the depth of her own spirit expressed in the lovely language of the book. I read a heart-stopping passage like "A searing pain ran down Miles's right flank as he crept along the passage. He wanted to lie down, to change back into himself, but he couldn't rest, couldn't risk changing back while Hanna was still in danger. He needed all his animal strength to kill the Shriker before the beast attacked again."

Then, a few pages later in the book, "The Falconer held her, and she cried into his wool shirt. The shirt smelled like winterleaf, and under that a woodland scent like Granda's used to have, and that made her cry all the more. He patted her shoulder in quiet rhythm until her sobbing ceased. She sat back and the old man looked into her eyes. 'I've set my mind on finding him, Hanna. You should know this.' "

I admit, I'm unable to put down this lovely long book (497 pages, including the Noor/Oth glossary.) And this is despite the fact that I got to see most of it in its earlier drafts in our writing group.

Our dear Janet is going to be truly famous some day, famous like Tolkien and C.S. Lewis. I have believed that for a long time. That is not her personal goal in writing, but as she opens for all of us the vast enchanted country of her own heart, it cannot help but happen.

I hope you'll look at her amazing website (www.janetleecarey.com) . You'll delight just in her opening page! Better yet, buy a copy of The Beast of Noor, and experience for yourself Janet's Deep, True Magic.

The Write Weather

2006-06-26T17:37:00.000-07:00

June 26, 2006

It's hot, hot, hot outside, but I am comfortably cool! I'm downstairs, hunkered next to the computer, with the tiniest breeze wafting through my office window. It's the right time to write! Okay, I admit it, when our young adult son zoomed by an hour ago to pick up his swim shorts and head for the lake, a little bit of me thought "Why write today? Why not play?" But my Pockets deadline is looming (next Monday-yikes!) and I yearn to get back to working on my book as well. That means hot or cold, this is the Write Weather.

Apply seat to chair and write. Okay, the first draft may not be brilliant. But by golly, by the time I get up this afternoon, the draft will be written. And my side benefit will be, no sunburn.

That said, I'll admit, sometimes in the summer I take my printed-out story draft with me, head for my favorite park, and rewrite at a picnic table. Hmm, sounds like a good plan for tomorrow. I'll bet I can find a nice shady table, with a bit of breeze off the lake. It will be just the Write Weather, I'm sure!

And A Little Child Shall Lead You

2006-06-15T16:29:00.000-07:00

June 15

I've just spent a lovely week with my daughter Deb and our 19 month old grandson, Weston, visiting from Santa Fe. Weston is learning to talk, and it's amazing what he does with his somewhat limited vocabulary. He tells entire stories with just four words. "Ball?" he says to me. Ever the compliant Grandma, I grab the ladybug ball. "Knee," he says, and points to his knee. "The ball hit your knee," I say, remembering the story his mama told me. He nods sadly, blows a kiss and puts it on his knee. "And Mommy kissed it to make it better." He nods again. "Hat," he says, pointing to his head. I smile. "Yes, you were wearing your hat when the ball hit you."

Weston sits back then, the tension relaxes from his body and he smiles. He has told his story and been heard. And he's done an amazing job of it! We have a main character, a problem and a resolution to the problem. (Mommy kissed his knee.) We even have some setting: the hat he was wearing!

Sometimes I think it behooves us in our writing to keep it simple, to look at those basic elements: plot, character, setting, when we get stuck. I just got off the phone, after going over a manuscript edit I did for a client, a wonderful and moving story of a young man struggling with the guilt of his best friend's death, for which he feels responsible. My client is struggling with this very thing: getting back to the basics, getting rid of those extra scenes that don't move the story forward. I consoled him, telling him of my same struggle as I rework yet another revision of my current novel, Finding Nonna--the story of a 12 year-old dealing with her beloved grandmother who has Alzheimer's Disease. So many wonderful scenes have bit the dust as I try to get back to the basics. I think this week as I write, I'll think of Weston, and take my cues from him: "Ball, Knee, Kiss, hat." Sometimes that says it all! Weston may not fully know it yet, but this week he gave me a Sound from his Heart, and I am grateful.

Recurring Sounds!

2006-05-30T17:58:00.000-07:00

A Sound from My Heart

May 30, 2006

As I write, whether it's a short story for my Pockets series, or a chapter for my current novel, Two Moon Journey, I find recurring themes weaving in and out, some big, some small. (My writing group accuses me of putting chocolate chip cookies in almost every story I write, something I need to ponder perhaps!) But I'm getting at something a bit deeper here. Like forgiveness. When all is said and done, my characters seem to struggle with this--the need to forgive or be forgiven. Whether it's 8 year old Sammy who's just shouted away her best friend Pete (whose duck Drabble has just eaten her slug collection) or 12 year old Simu-quah whose hatred for the Red-Bearded soldier holding her father prisoner propels her into a dangerous encounter by the jail wagon, my stories seem to echo and re-echo with the need for forgiveness.

And so it is in my own life--this is a sound that rings true in my heart. Every day I'm in need of forgiving or being forgiven--usually both.

Often enough, it's in my writing that I work out my own forgiveness struggles. Sometimes this takes a long time and lots of prayer.

Sometimes it's accomplished with as little a gesture as offering someone a chocolate chip cookie.

Ideas--Sounds from my Heart

2006-05-26T16:23:00.000-07:00

May 26, 2006

As a writer of stories for children, I often have the opportunity to go into classrooms and talk to kids about writing. "Where do you get your ideas?" they all ask. From things that really happen, from my own childhood, from watching you, I tell them. But what I often think about, and usually share, is the Japanese way of saying "Idea." Two Japanese characters comprise the word, and they translate as A Sound from the Heart.
Ideas. Sounds from the Heart.
I love this!
Any worthwhile idea I share in my writing is a Sound from my Heart. I've gotten adept over the years at recognizing these when they pop into my head, like a lightbulb flashing on. But there's a difference: when the idea is a Sound from my Heart, there's something that resonates within, like a bell ringing deep inside me.
That's what I want to share in this blog---some of those sounds from my heart: ideas about writing, about grandchildren, about life. Who knows what sounds from my heart will ring out, if I take this listening-sharing time each week? Twice a week, that's my goal to start with, to share some sounds from my heart with you--and to listen to the Sounds from your heart that you share back.
Let the Heart-Sounds begin!