I loved this book.
Great main character.
 |
| The Five Lives of Our Cat Zook by Joanne Rocklin |
(Thank you, Kirby Larson, for the recommendation.)
Saturday, August 31, 2013
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Things I Love Thursday
I love charm bracelets.
They are such a wonderful walk down memory lane, since each charm often represents something significant in one's life.
The character of Loretta in Greetings from Nowhere received her mother's charm bracelet and set off on a quest to visit each place represented. That was inspired by my own charm bracelet.
Here are some of the charms and their significance:
A Boston Swan Boat: I live in Boston.
An Adirondack chair: I spend my writing days in one.
A dog: I'm a dog freak.
Skis: We used to ski as a family. I was a dismal failure.
A VW Bug: I used to have one.
A shovel: I love to garden.
A spark plug: I'm married to a car guy.
A motor scooter: I wrecked one once.
A typewriter: I'm a writer.
Golf clubs: I like to play golf.
The Eiffel Tower: A trip to Paris
Map of Vermont: Time spent in Vermont
A wrench: car guy
A double decker bus: A trip to London
A trolley car: Trip to San Francisco
A cactus: Trip to the Southwest
A bear: The Smoky Mountains (the charm that Loretta loved)
A heart engraved Murph: My dog, Murphy
A tap shoe: I love to tap dance.
A golden retriever: My two goldens, Phoebe and Ruby
A wooden shoe: A trip to Amsterdam
Map of Italy: A trip to Tuscany, Italy
Palm tree: Family vacations in Florida
Army Air Corps wings: My dad
Thursday, August 15, 2013
Monday, August 12, 2013
Dear Barbara O'Connor
Dear Barbara O'Connor:
Thank you for all the things you do for me and people all around the world.
You are welcome.
Love, Barbara
Friday, August 9, 2013
Memories
I'm not one of those people who has lots of memories from a very
young age.
But....I have a few.
I've been reading some blog posts lately about the first day of school (because I follow a lot of teachers and school librarians).
The first day of school is one of the few early memories I have.
When I was very young, my family moved from South Carolina to Louisiana.
I guess the age requirement for starting school in Louisiana was younger than South Carolina, so I was expected to start school unexpectedly. (Yes, I need a copy editor at all times.)
My mother was frantic and worried and neurotic that poor little Barbara would be thrown to the wolves at such a young age.
But, off I went.
To school.
What do I remember about that first day?
The teacher told me I just needed to raise my hand and ask if I needed to go to the LAVATORY.
Huh?
The LAVATORY?
WTH?
She may as well have said, "Just raise your hand and ask if you need to go to the RTIMLGIG831YO^&(^(^^&YP. Okay?"
I was very, very confused.
THAT is my memory of my first day of school.
(And add to that the fact that the classroom had that unfinished painting of George Washington. What's up with THAT?)
But....I have a few.
I've been reading some blog posts lately about the first day of school (because I follow a lot of teachers and school librarians).
The first day of school is one of the few early memories I have.
When I was very young, my family moved from South Carolina to Louisiana.
I guess the age requirement for starting school in Louisiana was younger than South Carolina, so I was expected to start school unexpectedly. (Yes, I need a copy editor at all times.)
My mother was frantic and worried and neurotic that poor little Barbara would be thrown to the wolves at such a young age.
But, off I went.
To school.
What do I remember about that first day?
The teacher told me I just needed to raise my hand and ask if I needed to go to the LAVATORY.
Huh?
The LAVATORY?
WTH?
She may as well have said, "Just raise your hand and ask if you need to go to the RTIMLGIG831YO^&(^(^^&YP. Okay?"
I was very, very confused.
THAT is my memory of my first day of school.
(And add to that the fact that the classroom had that unfinished painting of George Washington. What's up with THAT?)
Thursday, August 8, 2013
Things I Love Thursday
I love dogs.
I love to cry.
I love great books.
I love Kirby Larson.
And so.....
I love DUKE!
So full of heart. I adored Hobie, the main character. I ached for him. I cheered for him.
Wonderful historical fiction about a little known piece of the World War II story - kids who donated their PETS to the war cause!
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
X Marks the Spot (Part 1)
Here I am in preachy/teachy mode again.
Today's topic?
Catalyst
Studying scriptwriting is an invaluable tool for any writer, but particularly for children’s novelists.
Children's novels are similar to scripts.
We talked about setup HERE, HERE and HERE.
But now let’s narrow our focus even more.
One of the most critical parts of the setup of a story is the catalyst.
The catalyst has two important roles:
1. It starts the action of the story.
2. It defines what the story is about.
The strongest catalyst - and the most common in children’s books - is a specific action (sometimes referred to as the inciting incident. No, that will not be on the test. Relax).
Something happens to set the story in motion.
The catalyst should come as early in the story as possible.
Repeat after me:
The catalyst should come as early in the story as possible.
Why?
Because young readers want to get into the action as soon as possible.
In most cases, the reader (and you, the writer) should be able to point at a specific spot on the page and say, “There! That’s where the story starts.”
X marks the spot!
Some of the best children’s books literally start with the catalyst. They jump right into the action.
Because of Winn Dixie by Kate DiCamillo:
My name is India Opal Buloni, and last summer my daddy, the preacher, sent me to the store for a box of macaroni-and-cheese, some white
Today's topic?
Catalyst
Studying scriptwriting is an invaluable tool for any writer, but particularly for children’s novelists.
Children's novels are similar to scripts.
-
They are relatively short.
-
They need to reveal the story as early as possible.
-
They need to be tight and active.
-
They must be well-paced.
We talked about setup HERE, HERE and HERE.
But now let’s narrow our focus even more.
One of the most critical parts of the setup of a story is the catalyst.
The catalyst has two important roles:
1. It starts the action of the story.
2. It defines what the story is about.
The strongest catalyst - and the most common in children’s books - is a specific action (sometimes referred to as the inciting incident. No, that will not be on the test. Relax).
Something happens to set the story in motion.
The catalyst should come as early in the story as possible.
Repeat after me:
The catalyst should come as early in the story as possible.
Why?
Because young readers want to get into the action as soon as possible.
In most cases, the reader (and you, the writer) should be able to point at a specific spot on the page and say, “There! That’s where the story starts.”
X marks the spot!
Some of the best children’s books literally start with the catalyst. They jump right into the action.
Because of Winn Dixie by Kate DiCamillo:
My name is India Opal Buloni, and last summer my daddy, the preacher, sent me to the store for a box of macaroni-and-cheese, some white
rice, and two tomatoes and I came back with a dog.
When Zachary Beaver Came to Town by Kimberly Willis Holt:
Nothing ever happens in Antler, Texas. Nothing much at all. Until this afternoon, when an old blue Thunderbird pulls a trailer decorated with Christmas lights into the Dairy Maid parking lot. The red words painted on the trailer cause quite a buzz around town, and before an hour is up, half of Antler is standing in line with two dollars clutched in hand to see the fattest boy in the world.
The Goats by Brock Cole (one of my faves, btw):
When he came back to the beach with wood for a
fire Bryce grabbed
him from behind. The firewood scattered, bouncing off his knees and shins.
“Okay, Bryce,” he said. “Cut it out.” He tried to sound unafraid, even a little bored.
Bryce pulled his elbows back until they were almost touching. The boy tried to look up at the other kids. They turned their faces away, squinting out over the lake or frowning up into the trees above the beach.
“Hey,” Bryce said. “Do I have to do everything?”
For a moment no one moved, and then Murphy shrugged and knelt down heavily in font of the boy. He was frowning, as if he had to do something disagreeable.
“Don’t,” said the boy.
Murphy pulled down his shorts. The boy’s knees folded, and as he fell Bryce tugged his sweat shirt over his head. It was a new shirt. It had the camp emblem of the Tall Pine on the front. Someone sat on his knees so they could pull off his shoes and socks. Then they let him go. He scuttled sideways on his hands and knees into a thicket of reeds and fell on his side. He could hardly breathe.
“Come on, Howie,” Murphy said. “You’re a goat. Don’t you get it?”
The boy curled up tightly, squeezing his eyes shut, waiting for the world to explode.
When Zachary Beaver Came to Town by Kimberly Willis Holt:
Nothing ever happens in Antler, Texas. Nothing much at all. Until this afternoon, when an old blue Thunderbird pulls a trailer decorated with Christmas lights into the Dairy Maid parking lot. The red words painted on the trailer cause quite a buzz around town, and before an hour is up, half of Antler is standing in line with two dollars clutched in hand to see the fattest boy in the world.
The Goats by Brock Cole (one of my faves, btw):
When he came back to the beach with wood for a
“Okay, Bryce,” he said. “Cut it out.” He tried to sound unafraid, even a little bored.
Bryce pulled his elbows back until they were almost touching. The boy tried to look up at the other kids. They turned their faces away, squinting out over the lake or frowning up into the trees above the beach.
“Hey,” Bryce said. “Do I have to do everything?”
For a moment no one moved, and then Murphy shrugged and knelt down heavily in font of the boy. He was frowning, as if he had to do something disagreeable.
“Don’t,” said the boy.
Murphy pulled down his shorts. The boy’s knees folded, and as he fell Bryce tugged his sweat shirt over his head. It was a new shirt. It had the camp emblem of the Tall Pine on the front. Someone sat on his knees so they could pull off his shoes and socks. Then they let him go. He scuttled sideways on his hands and knees into a thicket of reeds and fell on his side. He could hardly breathe.
“Come on, Howie,” Murphy said. “You’re a goat. Don’t you get it?”
The boy curled up tightly, squeezing his eyes shut, waiting for the world to explode.
“I don’t think he gets it,” Murphy said.
The boy didn't move. He heard the canoes being shoved back into the water. There was a clatter of paddles and a loud splash. Someone laughed.
There is no question what this story is about: a boy has been stripped naked and left on an island by his fellow campers.
Notice that the above catalysts are specific actions - a girl brings home a stray dog; a trailer with a fat boy arrives in town; a boy is left naked on an island.
The catalyst might also be informational.
But I see that some of you in the back of the room are dozing, so I'll save this part of the discussion for later.
Wake up.
Class dismissed.
The boy didn't move. He heard the canoes being shoved back into the water. There was a clatter of paddles and a loud splash. Someone laughed.
There is no question what this story is about: a boy has been stripped naked and left on an island by his fellow campers.
Notice that the above catalysts are specific actions - a girl brings home a stray dog; a trailer with a fat boy arrives in town; a boy is left naked on an island.
The catalyst might also be informational.
But I see that some of you in the back of the room are dozing, so I'll save this part of the discussion for later.
Wake up.
Class dismissed.
Monday, August 5, 2013
Friday, August 2, 2013
A Pathetic Excuse for a Blog Post
Okay, y'all...
...I'm trying to write a book and enjoy the summer.
At the same time!
So the blog posting has been more than a little slack lately.
Here then, is the first in a series I'm calling A Pathetic Excuse for a Blog Post
In which I offer one piece of advice from an old farmer.
(Note: I would give credit to the old farmer, but I have no idea who he is and everyone else on the internet is lifting his stuff, so sorry, old farmer, wherever you are.)
Piece of Advice #1:
Keep skunks and bankers at a distance.
(Note: My apologies to bankers everywhere. Trust me, I love you when I need you. )
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