wgwriter's Journal

Metaphor give away!
That's right, step right up and grab a metaphor! Yours for the asking. Got some of your own you're looking to unload? Just lay them on the table.

Writing is. . .

like composting. Sort out your garbage (complicated feelings & useless detritus), put the raw stuff (the most emotionally resonant) in the compost bin (brain/word processor matrix), give it some time (time), keep the heat up (keep working) and VOILA! Three to four months later you've got fine compost to spread on your garden (a usable draft which may flower).

Writing is also. . .
like parenting. Read lots and talk with others, but follow your heart. And occasionally cover for cluelessness by acting authoritative.

Still thrashing around with my dissertation, the dilemma of where to live, and, more recently, with the heartache that comes from watching my daughter struggle with life. Of course I know that every child must learn how to cope with anger, sadness and frustration, but it still hurts a little to see how difficult that process is for some kids. My daughter feels that if she behaves badly it is because she is a bad person. It is such a challenge figuring out how to hold her accountable for her actions without undercutting her self-esteem, to teach her that a good person is not a perfect person.

*Sigh* On second thought, my first metaphor is no good. Making compost requires so little effort--it's way easier than writing. At least the way writing is going for me these days.

BTW, I will be teaching at a nearby University next Fall.

Back to work.

all things clean and bright
This weekend we enjoyed a sudden but welcome reunion with friends from the east coast at, of all places, Disneyland. Wow. Tickets aren't cheap and the lines are long, but it was worth a visit. We don't do Disney, but X. is familiar with the characters just the same and was thrilled to go. The best part? Small World. It's a charming transplant from the 1963 World's Fair, and oddly out of place with the rest of Disneyland. We also enjoyed the parade--like Vegas for kids. Mostly I was impressed by the tremendous attention to detail apparent throughout the park. I enjoyed myself, but could not turn off the internal critic who felt uneasy at the display of what I can only call imperialist nostalgia. Main street? One need only drive through the rust belt to see what mega-corporations have done to actual main street businesses. Frontierland and Adventure land? OMG! Welcome to 1950s America. Disney has seen fit to remove some of the most offensive racial stereotypes, but they are still there not too far under the shiny surface. From Julie Andrews' prim English voice extolling the virtues of American ingenuity as fireworks explode overhead to a jungle cruise that glides past "primitives" shaking shrunken heads on the shore, Disneyland is. . . an interesting experience. Where else will you see a Tibetan monk videotaping mechanical parrot Jose (who needs to take a "ch-ower") in "the tiki tiki tiki tiki tiki room?"

Because I was busy this weekend, I've haven't had the opportunity to respond to ljposts.

dotificus has posted her notes from the SCBWI conference in NY. Thanks, Dot!

kellyrfineman has provided many book recommendations. I checked out Adam Rex's hilarious "Frankenstein Makes a Sandwich." Thanks, Kelly!

lurban wants to know what are your favorite little books with big heart. I'm curious to find out as well. And Cindy Lord, whose lj handle I'm forgetting (sorry!) has found sparkly flats. Hooray!

Random rambling extolling the wonders of Borax: Did you know that Borax, which is environmentally safe whereas bleach is wretched, can remove stains from your clothes as well if not better than any other product? Just put some in your wash, soak for 20-30 minutes, and proceed as usual. Viola! Clean and sparkling clothes!

Hope everyone in lj land has a pleasant and productive day.

too funny
For weeks X. has been asking me to pack her "eena" for lunch. Her classmate, S., who is from Tokyo, brings eena almost every day & X. wants to try this Japanese delicacy. I am familiar with Japanese food, but I'd never heard of eena. I racked my brains and packed her inero (pronounced "ee-neh-ro"; deep fried sheets of tofu wrapped around sushi rice). Yummy, but not right. I tried unagi (eel in sweet sauce). Again, yummy but not right. Finally, I bumped into S's mother the other day & inquired about the content of her daughter's lunch. It took me a minute to understand what she was saying. . . .weiner. S. eats hot dogs every day, beautifully packed in a bento box.

Today's menu: uncured turkey dogs. X's persistence has paid off.

Back to chapter two.

warped
Last night X. wanted to use the computer to do her "homework." With great precision she tapped out the alphabet and numbers 1-40. Afterwards I noticed that the screen was, and remains, warped. Like looking through an inverted fishbowl. It's probably a coincidence, but just in case it's not: does anyone know whether there's a button or two I can push to make it go back to normal? It's making me dizzy.

What I'm reading (for pleasure): Octavia E. Butler's "Adulthood Rites" & Edna St. Vincent Milay's "Renascence and Other Poems." Except I think I'm gonna stop reading the latter 'coz it's not exactly pleasurable. Tell me, did Milay ever have a happy thought?!

What I'm working on: chapter two of my dissertation. Finally!

What I'm listening to: the sound of rain rain rain. Finally!

Dishing the dirt on B&N
Hey, have you seen what A. Laties has to say about Barnes & Noble? Check it out at

rebelbookseller.

Now I'm embarrassed that I was weirdly fearful about naming "the big box store" I wrote about in an earlier post. Yeah, it was Barnes & Noble. I think what bothered me most about my series of exchanges with B&N, both online & with customer service reps, was that I couldn't wrap my head around how little they cared whether I got what I wanted, in a timely manner and in good condition with as little frustration as possible. I'm a big reader. I buy lotsa books. Don't you care about my business, B&N? Aren't the most successful companies those that operate with the greatest efficiency? HA!

On a related note, I saw a terrific documentary last night, THE TAKE by Canadian journalists Avi Lewis and Naomi Klein. (http://www.thetake.org). It's about some innovative and brave Argentinian factory workers (garment industry, auto parts, ship building, ceramic tiles, etc.) who have taken over their former workplaces in the aftermath of the unbelievable economic collapse that happened in 2001. Their slogan: Occupy. Resist. Produce.

Recent reads
worth mentioning. . . . DRUM ROLL. . .

"I Capture the Castle" by Dodie Smith, best known as the author of "101 Dalmatians." If you like Hilary McKay's books about the Casson family ("Saffy's Angel," "Indigo's Star, "Permanent Rose," and "Caddy Ever After"), you will like the Mortmain family. Eccentric, English, and living a life of not-so-genteel poverty in a leased castle, the Mortmain sisters look for love and a way to help their father overcome a decade-long case of writer's block. Originally published in 1948.

"The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing, Traitor to the Nation. Vol. I, The Pox Party" by M.T. Anderson. I won't bother with a description since this one's won a bunch of awards recently. I thought it was well-written and absorbing. Not as compelling as actual slave narratives, though, imho. If you read "Octavian," liked it and want more while you wait for Vol. II., I recommend you try "Black Atlantic Writers of the Eighteenth Century: Living the New Exodus in England and the Americas" ed. by Sandra Burr and Adam Potkay or "Facing Zion Forward": First Writers of the Black Atlantic, 1785–1798, ed. by Joanna Brooks and John Saillant. For the 19th c, there is nothing as moving as "Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl" by Harriet Jacobs. That was the first slave narrative I ever read, and I stayed up all night to finish it. It is commonly assigned to college freshmen.

Also enjoyed Elmore Leonard's "Maximum Bob." Fast-paced, with good female characters. I liked the movie, "Out of Sight" (haven't yet read the book), so I was bothered by the fact that I couldn't get into "Cuba Libre." Now Leonard is redeemed in my eyes. The down side to this genre: some characters are there just to die.

"The Painted Drum" by Louise Erdrich. A mature mother-daughter story, set in New England and North Dakota. Told from multiple pov, by those whose lives were touched by the drum, with clarity and restrained but profound emotion.

"Loving Che" by Ana Mendez. A young woman goes to Cuba in search of her mother, and comes to believe that her father was none other than Che Guevara. Literary and hot! Yes!

My daughter's recent, notable reads include William Pene Du Bois', "Teddy Bear Circus" and Peter Spiers' "People." Next up on her list, believe it or not, is "The Hobbit." This inspired choice came from an unexpected source: a cake book at our neighborhood bakery (you know, adverts of themed cakes for special occasions). X. decided that "The Lord of the Rings Cake" looked most appealing. Since she's been Miss Pink-and-Princess for months, I was surprised. When I told her that the cake was based on a series of books, she immediately asked to check them out from the library. Truthfully, I think it will be too old (and scary) for her. But I'll let her decide that for herself.

What books are on your nightstand?

HAPPY NEW YEAR!
I'm supposed to be cleaning right now so good luck can settle on our home. But I'm sympathetic to the spiders, who take a dimmer view of vacuuming.

Actual stores. Actual homes. And I ask a favor.
So major book retailer of yesterentry never did replace Niki Daly's "Jamela's Birthday," but did credit my husband's card 16 bucks. Eventually.

BTW, if anyone knows Mr. Daly or has some connection to FSG, the Jamela stories should be made into a chapter book. Pass it on!

Do you know about The Seminary Co-op Bookstore? http://semcoop.booksense.com

I used to shop the actual store back in my college days. Now I'm a member, and with the recent website re-design, can shop there from afar. Glorious! Plus, for the first time in a few years, the Sem Co-op is in the black. Hooray for independent bookstores! Hooray for cooperatives! It's hard to resist fantasizing about my own books one day being featured here:

http://semcoop.booksense.com/NASApp/store/IndexJsp;jsessionid=abcqVrJg0SmglbVH3Zldr?s=localauthors

Speaking of birthdays, I will get my fill of cake and ice cream this weekend. Two of my daughter's classmates are turning 5. Halfway to double digits! I love that X. is invited to celebrate with her school friends, and I don't want to sound like the jerk that I sometimes am, but what's up with all the professional party venues?! Of the four parties we will have attended by Sunday, none will have involved an actual home, with actual homemade food. Is this an Orange County thing?

At my actual home, on Valentine's Day, I hosted a cookie-making party for seven girls, ranging in age from 4 to 10. They clustered around the dining room table making edible masterpieces. It was fun. I didn't even mind finding pink icing on my sofa or being asked, "Will these taste like REAL cookies when the icing dries?" (The girl who asked that question has a little sister who, the first time she was over to play with X., announced, "OUR house is clean." LOL! They are great kids. No joke. And I'm so pleased that X. is finally making neighborhood friends.)

In between parties, I've been writing. No cause for celebration yet, but I'm relieved that my icy block seems to be melting. Now I would apppreciate it if my lj friends would do me a favor. If you would, please check in with me at the end of the day to inquire about my progress. Not a nag, just a friendly, "how'd it go?" If you can swing it. Thanks!

Bittersweet
I always appreciate lj entries with pictures. I wish I could post pictures (long, dull tale of woe as to why I can't), especially today. In addition to all the lovely Valentines I received from my daughter (she is big into holidays and crafty stuff), I have before me a book that I adored when I was a child. It's "The Little Golden Holiday Book." It was given to my father by his paternal grandmother, and is inscribed with his name and the date, 1950.

The story begins like this:

"It is a cold February day. But Mary is warm and cozy in her room. There is an important sign on her door. PRIVATE: DO NOT ENTER. Mary is making Valentines."

Blond, cherubic Mary tiptoes around the house in her white linen nightgown delivering her heart-shaped cards to the delight of all. Mary inspired me as a child. I taped the same sign to my door and busied myself with construction paper and glitter.

Mary's Daddy smokes a pipe and wears brown loafer slippers. Her Mom bakes pumpkin pies in a cast iron stove. The kids wear Easter bonnets in spring and pull wooden tobogans in winter. They trick-or-treat in homemade costumes at Halloween, dressed as ghosts and ...and...WHOA. A black-faced Mammy. Complete with enormous lipsticked mouth and bustled-out behind.

When I knew that I was about to become a parent, I carried dusty boxes down from the attic of my grandparents' house, where I grew up, and went through all the old books and toys that my grandmother had been thoughtful enough to save. When I laid my hands on this book, my heart swelled with pleasure and nostalgia. Until I got to the Halloween page. I had no recollection of the sterotyped Mammy image and was sooo disappointed to realize that I could not share this book with my daughter.

I saved it though, and keep it on a high shelf.

Selective memory and conscious editing are interesting to me both personally and as a writer. Yesterday on the way to school my daughter asked me to tell her a story about when I was a girl. Something to do with Valentine's Day. I told her how much I loved doing crafty things, just like her, and about the sign on my door. I didn't mention the book that inspired the sign because I knew she'd ask to see it, and while I edit for her, I do not outright lie. She wanted more, so I dug a little deeper and remembered another story. A mostly funny one that ends with my friend Susie peeing in a foil-lined box that held my Valentines. As I was telling the story I remembered that there was a sad undercurrent to this giggly tale; Susie peed in the box because we had barricaded ourselves in my bedroom so I wouldn't have to visit my abusive mother later that day. I brushed lightly over that part. X. knows about my mother, if only because I needed to explain why she's never met the woman. Ultimately, X. really loved the peed-upon Valentines and begged for more holiday-themed memories, of which I have many.

As we pulled into the school parking lot I asked, "do you think other kids would be interested in my holiday stories?" "Yes," she replied matter-of-factly, "I think you should author a book about them."

And that was the best Valentine of all!

Wishing you all bittersweet chocolate (the best kind) and clean, dry Valentines!

Books and beasties
A family friend recently gave my daughter "Charlotte's Web." A lovely edition, with original drawings by Garth Williams enhanced with watercoloring by Rosemary Wells. I put the book on a shelf with the intention of reading it once X. turned five or six. Then one night two weeks ago X. wanted to read it, and once we started there was no stopping. We finished last week. After I uttered, "the end," the first words out of X's mouth were "Can we read it again?"

E.B. White's barnyard is inhabited by animals whose flaws and strengths are uniquely their own, and as such are endearing and enduring characters. What a great story!

Oddly enough, although we rarely eat meat, we had pork twice last week! But, you know, it's not like Fern went vegetarian. It's tough to eat Italian and Chinese (the two main cuisines chez nous), and not eat pork from time to time.

But don't tell the folks over at The Grain Project (www.grainproject.org), ok? As part of my renewed effort to make Orange County my home, I have volunteered to help this organization with its efforts to establish community gardens and edible schoolyards throughout Santa Ana. If I can't live in the countryside, then I will bring the countryside to me. My first meeting is tomorrow. Afterwards those in attendance will adjourn to a vegan restaurant in Costa Mesa.

I may also volunteer at the Santa Ana Zoo. One of their specialities is rare breeds of domestic animals, like the American Cream Draft Horse (www.kyhorsepark.com/imh/bw/cream.html) and Navajo-Churro Sheep (www.navajo-churrosheep.com). They also have gorgeous American Buff geese (looks like a Brecon buff if you want to do an image search). I don't normally admire geese--if you've ever been chased by a pack of them you'll know what I mean--but these are lovely-looking beasties.

Hope everyone has a pleasant and productive Friday.

Tying up loose ends = knot? Is that a good thing?
UPDATE re; adjustment to California....Spent yesterday on the beach in San Clemente. Had to take off jean jacket to avoid overheating. Marveled, "Is this really FEBRUARY?"

Saw cute bungalow in Santa Ana, a few blocks from current residence. A real fixer upper. Excited because untouched since the 1920s. And I mean UNTOUCHED. There was a boarded-up OUTHOUSE in the back yard. Unfortunately when asked for a disclosure report, realtor went curiously silent. Has not returned phone calls.

Oh well. Would-be neighbors were potentially dodgy anyway, as evidenced by back yard littered with empties. Might have been a one-time party. Or not.

UPDATE re; child....Used parental powers of persuasion in favor of pigtails for picture day. Then discovered that pic day is on Wednesday. Dress rehearsal!

Child spent two days at a private school. Small, mixed-aged classroom. Lots of freedom; no desks, no tests. It was a love fest all around. *SIGH* Goodbye $10,000. Still not giving up on public charter schools--will visit classrooms later this month.

UPDATE re; productivity...ask at the end of the day. ACK! It's after 9 a.m. GOTTA go!

But first, a final thought. Carolyn See says that writers, especially female writers, who are big on mood and detail but come up short on plot that really MOVES would do well to read Elmore Leonard. I'm not sure how Elmore Leonard is going to help me inject action into some of my quieter pb manuscripts, but hey, why not give it a go? I tried *Cuba Libre* and couldn't get through it. Last week I picked up *Maximum Bob* for a quarter, and have been sucked in. Can you tell from the style of this lj entry?!

Dear Author
As a child, did you ever write a letter to a favorite author?

I didn't know that was even possible when I was a kid, but my daughter does. Months ago, shortly after her fourth birthday, I wrote on her behalf to Jane Hissey (www.janehissey.com), author and illustrator of the wonderful Old Bear books. X. wanted answers to important questions such as "Do Little Bear's trousers come off?" and "Can Duck open his beak?"

Just before Christmastime, 'lo and behold, Jane Hissey responded! She wrote a lovely and detailed letter (Yes to #1, Little Bear sometimes wears pajamas and swimming trunks. Yes, sort of, to #2. Duck's beak opens just enough to allow him to pick up stuff off the ground). Ms. Hissey ended by saying that if X. wrote again, this time with ideas for new adventures involving the playroom animals, then maybe the next book would be dedicated to her.

X. hasn't come up with any stories, but she did, on her own initiative, make Hissey a hand-made holiday card. She even painstakingly copied Hissey's name from the book jacket. I was stunned and delighted when X. handed it to me and asked me to mail it to England.

It must be a real joy for picture book authors to connect with young readers like that, especially considering how much effort it takes for a very young child to communicate via letters. I like to imagine Jane Hissey in her studio wondering, "Who *is* this little girl in California sending me these adorable notes?"

shoulda shopped indie
So my husband needed this book and he needed it right away. He ordered it online through a big box type store that shall remain nameless. Discovered that he could get free delivery in three days if he ran up his bill a bit more. With my help (I live to serve), he ran up his bill a lot more. CLICK! Done.

Three days later ONE book of the six that were ordered arrived at our doorstep. A picture book for my daughter, "Rhymes for Annie Rose" by Shirley Hughes (Would have prefered "Alfie and Annie Rose Out-of-Doors" but that wasn't eligible for 3-day shipment).

Uh.... Where are the other books? Specifically, where is the book that my husband needed pronto and that prompted this ordering spree in the first place?

I call the customer service line and speak to no one, but I do get to hear many different recordings. Ultimately I learn, online, that all the books were shipped. Re; the 3-day delivery promise, that just means 3 days from when the order is received at the warehouse. And apparently our single order was processed in two different phases because two different warehouses were involved.

Ok. Would have been nice if that had been made clear when we placed the order, but whatever. My daughter liked her book anyway.

Cut to today. Hooray! The rest of the books have arrived. Only guess what? No, not that. My husband's book is here. But a picture book, "Jamela's Birthday" by Niki Grimes is severely damaged. Three pages are shredded and unreadable.

Back to customer service. Yes, they will replace it. But first they will send me a sticker to mail it back. Then can my husband please call since it was on his credit card? As for replacing it with a different book of the same value, (I decided that I preferred "Jamela's Dress" or "Where's Jamela") I have to pay $5 shipping on that. "But the books are the same price," I object. Too bad. I have to stick with my original order. No exchanges--just returns.

And this, friends and fellow reader/writers, is why chain stores suck.

Thanks for the comments and private emails in response to my last post. I'm slowly coming to terms with my new environment. Frankly, it felt good to let off some steam, to cyber-shout. It also felt good to get out of Orange County this weekend. I went to the San Jacinto mountains, where my daughter got to make snow angels and I got to breathe in the scent of pine forest. My husband planned the whole thing and surprised me. Nice guy, huh?

I have also been busy exploring different schools, towns, neighborhoods with an eye for what is acceptable rather than what is ideal. I think

kellyrfineman had a bolder metaphor for this!

In short, I'm feeling better.

Next step to continued well-being: write more.

dotificus is making an effort to put writing first. I have to admit that it's probably a distant fourth for me these days. I need to change this.

I'm envious reading about the writing retreat a bunch of lj-ers just attended. Looks like it was a fun-filled, productive time.

Lastly, WOW for Cindy Lord (

cynthialord! Just in case you haven't heard: "RULES" is A NEWBERY HONOR BOOK!!!

more kvetching...well, ranting really
Let me just get this out of my system:

I hate California.

Not all the time and with all of my soul. But with an alarming frequency and intensity that makes adjusting to my new home a challenge.

And let me just add, if one more person says "well, you can't beat the weather," I'm going to stuff an umbrella down their gullet.

Or maybe I'll just nod politely.

We've been here six months now. For two of these months I have sat in my overpriced rental home bundled in three layers. In the mornings I get dressed in the living room just so I can stand in front of an inefficent and unsightly wall unit, which is better than getting dressed in front of the oven, i.e. what I did before the gas company turned on said unit.

Sometimes I go out, but not before turning on our new alarm. After our most recent robbery--in which the culprits came in through my daughter's bedroom window (some of our windows are old and don't lock properly) while we were out and made off with my jewelry and cameras and sundry items--I just don't feel entirely secure about leaving the house. Mind you, I know that robberies happen everywhere. In my old home in Virginia we actually returned home one evening in time to catch a man trying to break in through our porch. But here's something that never happened in our old neighborhood: no one ever stole a cup of chalk while our child was taking a quick bathroom break from sidewalk sketching. I suppose it might have happened, but it didn't. And this is my rant and I don't have to be reasonable.

Occasionally I'll think, "well, I could go elsewhere in the county." No one is forcing me to stay in this city, with its massive poverty rate and attendant urban problems. And then I'll troll realtor.com or californiamoves.com looking for housing and come up dry. Except for my eyes, which are usually pretty leaky but the time I finish that pointless internet exercise. Yeah, sure I could move. Into a "luxury condo" the size of my thumbnail. Or better yet some converted motel monstrosity from the 1970s that's been "upgraded." Since when did "upgraded" come to mean pressboard kitchen cabinets with cherry-wood finish? Likewise, I'm not fool enough to actually think that a touted "mountain view" will remain unobstructed over the course of the next few years.

Alternately we could take out a massive loan that would choke off all other possibilites (like plane trips to visit family or, say, savings)for a larger place, possibly even a single family home, so we could live in a house in a neighborhood about which I would mostly feel *eh.*

If I'm going to feel ambivalent about my environment, I'd rather not pay for the privilege, you know?

And then there's the risk factor. County-wide, I've watched asking prices fall as much as $100,000 since we arrived last August. And they are still as much as 60% above actual asessment value. It sickens me. Especially when I do what I know I shouldn't do: go looking online at homes in places where I think I'd rather be.

Yes, I know it's obscene to rant like this when you put it in the context of the miserably unlucky, unjust lives people are forced to lead all around the world. And, frankly, right here in my new "home"-city. So, ok, I suck. I am a whiny brat. If anyone's still reading this, sorry. I am not a happy person at the moment.

Now if only I could channel my feelings into mad energy for life and work. Then I might feel better about myself anyway.

Finally, if my husband asks me one more time if I am having a mid-life crisis I am going to shove an umbrella down his gullet too. I am not middle-aged!!

The learning curve
I'm back from my preschool presentation.

I ROCKED the ROOM! Hooray! (Whew!)

I talked very little about being a writer. My daughter's interested in the nitty gritty of how books get made, but her classmates...not so much. (Aside: only two kids out of sixteen actually knew what their parents do for a living. Don't people talk with their kids?!) Mostly I followed the teacher's suggestions. Did I mention that she's taught preschool for THIRTY years?! I spoke about the importance of the five senses and action in telling a gripping story, and engaged the kids in simple, imaginative exercises. Then, after I read/pantomimed my story (with the aid of bubbles and a flashlight), the kids drew pictures with the prompt, "The first time I saw the moon, I...."

I enjoyed it. And the kids were really mesmerized by my story, THE LONG RIDE.

You know how every guide says NEVER TELL AN EDITOR how much your kids/classroom/neighbors/friends/dog enjoyed your story? It's unprofessional and all that. Well, the first time I submitted THE LONG RIDE, I told the editor (JW at Clarion) that it was a true story, written for my daughter. And I sent it, single-spaced, without a S.A.S.E. She was nice enough to send me a rejection anyway (along with a note informing me about standard practices), but I was mightily embarrassed just the same.

I probably would never have submitted it, nor would I have begun to think of myself as a writer, had I not first shared it with a critique group. It was my first time at their meeting, and I was nervous about reading in front of published authors. But I did, and I was elated with their responses. Sue Corbett (author of "Twelve Again") asked, "where have you sent it?" I realized then that that was a possibility.

I was so naive I actually thought that because my story played so well in that room of *real writers*, it was a sure shot to publication! Three rejections later. . .

Live and learn.

BTW, so many kids go to school with the snottiest noses imaginable. They look so pathetic.

And now I've gotta go attend to my drippy-nosed daughter. I brought her home early.

sweatin' the school visit and some other stuff
Next week is Parent Week at my daughter's preschool. On Tuesday I will stand before my child and her peers, and blather about being a writer. I'm sweatin' already, let me tell you! This is a tough audience. My husband was recruited in October to sing and play guitar. He took requests and brought lots of percussion instruments for the kids to bang. Even so, there was a noticeable lack of enthusiasm. Of course this may have had something to do with the fact that our daughter bawled because she didn't want to share her father. When asked at the end by their teacher if they'd enjoyed the show, several kids said "no." Me, I will be reading an unpublished pb story with no pictures. A story two editors described as "too quiet" for publication. Enthralling!

Funnily enough, my husband performed again at the winter holiday party and the kids treated him like a rock-star god. This time our daughter enthusiastically accompanied him on ukelele. So maybe me and my piddling story, which was inspired by said daughter, will not totally bomb. I'm going to troubleshoot Supersensitive Child Syndrome by asking for help in overcoming my anxiety. A little reverse psychology. And I'll bring a cache of googly-eyed stickers and a laser light show just in case.

On the topic of anxiety...today I begin a new experiment in dissertating. I decided in the fall that I would set aside fiction for the time being and concentrate on finishing my PhD. I've since encountered a small problem. With creative writing I'd stumble around a bit, but eventually I'd hit on something that relaxed me and allowed the words to flow like warm water down my back. Not always, but often enough. With the diss, first my stomach, then my back, brain and, finally, my fingers, just seem to freeze. Perfectionism and the need to constantly reference my research are killing my productivity. It's completely immobilizing and depressing. Yet I love my project. I believe in it & I've got the support of many people. So what's up with the deep freeze?! I've given myself a good talking to: "Listen self, you spent two and half years researching. You are a capable person. Your work won a prize and publishers have written to you to express interest. That doesn't happen to everyone. Don't blow it!!"

The pep talk only made me feel guilty, lazy and egotistical. So recently I resolved to pretend that my diss is just another experiment in fiction and see what happens. Something no one but me cares about or needs to see. I hope this new strategy works. In the words of Junie B. Jones (a.k.a. Barbara Park in "Junie B., First Grader, Boss of Lunch"), "I wish myself good luck."

I'm not holding out on you
I just can't upload photos without my husband's laptop. Suffice it to say, kellyr has won the name-that-toy contest. The mystery toy is a wooden map of the world and a bunch of flags. Aside from the bizarre sidebox blurb, it's an especially cool item because the countries are indentified in English and in Chinese.

In other news, I recently went to a bookstore with my daughter. We were on a mission to buy a calendar for her bedroom. Sadly, she couldn't find one with a princess theme so she selected this instead:
http://www.nyfirestore.com/calendars.html

Much as I'd like to support the NYC firefighters, I was a bit taken aback by her choice. I steered her towards puppies, but she was unmoved. Who am I to judge what is cuddly in the eyes of a preschooler? I promised we'd continue the search for princess another day, and that settled it. We didn't leave the store with a calendar, but we did walk out with some new books.

For me:
M.T. Anderson's "The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing." This better be good 'coz I rarely do hardback!

Deborah Wiles' "Each Little Bird that Sings."

Diana Wynne Jones' "The Chronicles of Chrestomanci."

Daughter chose:
Diane de Groat's "Roses Are Pink, Your Feet Really Stink."

Bob the Builder, "Bob's Valentine Party." Apparently she wasn't gonna walk out without a picture of a guy in a hardhat!

Megan McDonald's "Judy Moody," vol. 1.

I recently finished Amy Tan's "The Opposite of Fate: Memories of a Writing Life." Many years ago I read and enjoyed "The Kitchen God's Wife" (in hardback!), but I haven't read any other Tan until now. It didn't matter. "The Opposite..." is an engrossing and funny memoir--really a collection of essays, some of which have been published elsewhere--filled with observations and musings on the writing process. In searching for a good quote, I though kidlit writers would appreciate this one:

"When I write my stories, I do not use childhood memories. I use a child's memory. Through that child's mind, I am too inexperienced to have assumptions. So the world is still full of magic. Anything can happen. All possibilities. I have dreams. I have fantasies.

At will, I can enter that world again."

And speaking of Amy Tan, my friend Steve Watkins recently signed with her agent, Sandy Dijkstra. Publication of his novel is surely imminent. In the meantime, those who want to can buy a collection of his short stories, "My Chaos Theory." It's published by Texas A&M University Press. To purchase direct, here's the link:
http://www.tamu.edu/upress/BOOKS/2006/watkins.htm

Good luck to all who have entered Lisa Yee's Bodacious Book Contest! I'm hoping my "Green Eggs and 'Nam" entry (It's 1969 and Uncle Sam-I-am wants you to try the army) will win me an ARC and some rubber slugs (I hope they're rubber).

Who is WG anyway?
A writer currently finishing a dissertation on an Historical Topic of Tremendous Importance and revising some picture book manuscripts with the encouragement of some helpful editors. That's who!

I have always loved to read, but I didn't always want to be a writer. When I was a child I wanted to be a waitress like Jan. Jan was a sun-kissed goddess in orthopedic shoes who worked at Bill's Restaurant in Surf City, New Jersey. I once saw her balance eight platters of pancakes--four on each arm--and gracefully deliver them to an admiring table. A feat I was unable to imitate despite many attempts with clamshells.

I'm sure Bill's inspired these menus:

Red rosey for love, party of two!

In addition to menus, at six I designed my very own Golden Book using fabulous glitter tape for the binding. I also wrote and illustrated a series about a crocodile stuck in the swamp when he much preferred the beach, and one about the adventures of the lovable and quirky Molly the Country Cousin.

My crowning juvenile achievement was written when I was thirteen. It was an untitled mystery in the style of Agatha Christie and featured lots of British-sounding dialogue and no discernible plot ("Never mind the blood on the parquet, love. Have a spot of tea"). I showed it to a respected teacher, who smirked and said "nice," prompting me to shred all my manuscripts. Only the menus were spared.

I fulfilled my ambition of waiting tables during high school and college. I discovered then that, as with *lopsters*, my dream job was not all it was cracked up to be. I also discovered that customers don't tip after you've doused them in daquiri.

So I developed my own tough shell and became a writer instead. In fits and starts, including a decade-long detour to grad school.

Good thing I married rich. I can have as many $11.95-bowls of *Clam Chader* as I want.

Finally, I will soon post a picture of the Xmas toy described in my previous entry. Last chance to guess what it is! Sorry, no prize. Just the glory of being right.

think the elephant space
I think Santa could stand to hire some elves fluent in English. Below is a transcription from a box. Can you guess the toy?

"Educate children's actual operation ability, and pass perception towards world map with identify, increase the ability of their perception, and see the international community the geography diagram that distribute the empress, and let all national flags take the seat inspire to number their think the elephant space, and increase the perception ability."

Right on! Still . . . . way better than my Chinese.

Speaking of, some good news:
http://www.nlcnet.org/campaigns/china/observer-response.shtml

I will be back in January with a proper lj introduction, maybe even with some digital pics (hint, hint). In the meantime, happy holidays everyone!!

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