Sharon Creech's Blog, page 13

Snow in Maine

Almost wordless Sunday:
Snow in Maine
12-30-12
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Faces: Father, Daughter

My father
one of the youngest photos of him I've seen
At first I didn't recognize himbecause I knew him, of course,when he was older.
Perhaps this is a high school photo.
Something about it seemedso eerily familiar.
And then I remembered this photo:


Me, at twelve.



In-ter-est-ing, mm?
(With thanks to Cousin Harry for my father's photo.)

The Great Unexpected: Idea? Fear?

It is not easy to answer the question: "Where did you get the idea for this [or any] book?"  A book is not one idea. It is thousands.

But: What was that very first spark? 
Recently–prior to the Sandy Hook tragedy–I attempted to answer that question for an interview about The Great Unexpected:
    Aware that so many children are more fearful now than when I was young, I hoped to create a story in which the unexpected could be something great instead of something to be feared.  Two other notions wrapped themselves around this idea. One was how closely the 'real' merges with the imaginary in the lives of young people. Another notion was the intricate connections between people–some obvious and some not. . .     And so evolved this story of two young girls: in whom the real and imaginary merge; who discover intricate connections between people and places; and who learn that the unexpected can be great.
Now, post-Sandy-Hook-tragedy, I am especially mindful of the fear so many of those students and teachers must have felt, and of the fear which the survivors continue to feel.  I wish I could ease it. I hope that 'intricate connections' in their lives will sustain them; I hope that the living and the dead will unite in their minds and hearts; and I hope that one day the survivors will again be able to look forward to the unexpected. 

Buoys

Buoysout of the waterfor the winter
danglingon the fenceinMaine
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Once I Was Young

Recently received this pic from my sister(via a cousin):me, with three of my four siblings.
Which one am I?
Third from leftwith pigtails, bangsand squirt gun.
Uh huh.
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Vagabonding . . .

I'll be here December 9.
Where will you be?
Mm?
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Bag Head

Seen in Rockland, Maine, recently.
Did not get close enough to readwriting on the bag.
Appeared to be a lurefor petitioner/interviewerwith clipboard.
(She'd already snaredseated woman.)
My husband saidif he had to choosebetween being the bag guyand the petitionerhe'd choose to bethebagguy.
You?
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Thanksgiving

High on a hillbetween Camden and Rockport, Mainestands this non-denominationalChildren's Chapel
a coveted sitefor weddings, gatheringscelebrationsand contemplation
From here:wishing you all aHappeeeee Thanksgiving.
How will you spend the day?
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The Lightness of Becoming

There is a pointin the writing of a storywhen ideas and imagesburst openand fling themselveshere and thereand you scurryto catchthembefore they flyaway.

Wrapped Schooners

Schoonerslike giant white caterpillarswrapped for the winter
Camden Harbor, Maine