Jo Knowles's Blog, page 31

"Thank you for being a friend..."

In preparation for a project related to my new book, PEARL, I needed to come up with a list of songs that I felt captured the mood of the friendship between the two main characters, Bean and Henry.

Thinking about their friendship and what sorts of songs would help represent it, was a lot harder than I thought it would be. Because like all friendships, it's complicated. Trying to find a song that illustrated the essential thread that kept them together, made me think of my own friendships, both past and current, and why some have lasted and some haven't. But mostly, it just made me grateful for all the sweet, special people who have come into my life and stayed. Even the "virtual" ones.

Social media with all its "friend" labeling is a bit odd and misleading, but I have to say that here on LiveJournal, I really feel as though you guys are my friends. You respond when I'm feeling sad, you cheer when I'm feeling happy, you comment when I need to talk. Over the past seven years, many of you have offered cat, child, hair, clothing, food, and even beaver advice. You've helped me through grief, you've celebrated my first book sale, you've watched my child start school and, soon, graduate from the sixth grade. And I've traveled the road with you, too. I hope I've given back as much as you've given me.

Sorry to be so sappy. But I appreciate you all so much and I just needed to say it:

Thank you. :-)

Here is the short playlist I came up with for Henry and Bean:

Anyone Else But You, by the Moldy Peaches

First Day of My Life, By Bright Eyes

Little Bird, by The Eels

Two of Us, by The Beatles


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Monday Morning Warm-Up:

Describe a good friend... :-)

"Keep Shining The Way You Do"

It was another Idol night last night and I find it telling that I brought my laptop and my son showed up with his new Far Side book tucked under his arm. Truly, we've become so jaded.

But last night the judges did seem much more invested in helping the contestants and giving good advice. My favorite, of course, came from my guy Steven when he said to Lauren, "Keep shining the way you do."

He basically said that, more or less, to each contestant. Like when he said to Jacob, "We all knew you could sing, it was just about time you shook your tail feathers."

Stuff like that.

What I think he was trying to convey is something he's been saying all season, if you listened closely.

Remember?

Sing like there's no one in the room.

Yes.

We all have shine potential.

We ALL do.

The trick is to be brave enough to let ourselves.

And I think Steven knows that one way to get around that fear of exposing the true us, is to pretend no one's watching.

I want my words to shine in my own special way. And I know you do, too. So lets turn off that pesky internal editor who whispers in our ears, "You'll never be as good as [fill in the blank]." Say right back, "Yes, I know. But no one else has my unique voice, either. So there."

Keep shining the way YOU do.

That was his point.

Be your own amazing self. Believe in your own ability to shine in your own unique light.

Sure, that's kind of a heady attitude. But we all know the world needs more light. Including yours.

So get shining.

:-)

"The House was Quiet and the World was Calm"

I always think of this poem by Wallace Stevens when I'm trying to get back to that quiet calm of just me and my words going in and out like a silent breath. Home alone. The cats sleeping in their oblivious way while I find my story again and the two of us escape, alone, in the safety of the calm.

Between travel and school vacation and freelance jobs and reading manuscripts and tackling bathroom renovation and raking up rocks (please don't ask), it has been a long time since I've been alone in a quiet house with the chance to feel the calm. To escape in it.

Sometimes, we have to create our own calm, I think. So I'm doing that for a short time today, before I begin my freelance job. Before I feel the stress and tug of all the need-to-dos. Even if it's only for ten minutes.

Would anyone like to join me?

I'm starting now.

:-)

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Monday Morning Warm-Up: Write to the prompt, "The house was quiet..."

Making Steven Tyler Swear, and Other Signs of Success

I watched American Idol with my son, sister and niece this week just after going to my niece's wonderful sixth grade play. My niece had a solo and I'm pretty sure if Randy, Jennifer or Steven were to give her some feedback they'd say she nailed it. It's funny watching a production like that and seeing which kids are born actors/performers and which ones seem to be in agony under the spotlight. I'm pretty sure I was one of the squirmers as a kid. And yet, I was in musicals all through junior high and high school. What I loved and why I was in those productions was being a part of it all. The practices. The set-making. The costume-finding. The make-up. The pretending to be someone else, somewhere else. But mostly, it was being a part of something. Part of a community. It was fun to see my niece experience that same sort of wonder.

Anyway.

We were all watching Idol and I kept shushing my poor niece and she was like, Why do you have to hear what everyone says? And I was like, BECAUSE I NEED INSPIRATION. Which sounded pretty lame, even to me. Maybe I am taking this Steven Tyler is My Muse thing a little too far.

I have to admit, it was another old salt-water taffy night. People performed and the judges gave feedback. But again, it didn't really seem like anyone's hearts were in it. It's like they weren't saying what they really wanted to say. Or... I don't know. Maybe it was my heart that wasn't in it, I'm not sure. But honestly, the judges seemed kind of bored. Even when James came out in his crazy outfit with the creepy marching band, the judges acted excited but... hmmm. Not genuinely?

Am I the only one straining to feel the sincerity? I wonder what that's all about. I don't know if it's me who has become jaded, or them. I feel like Jennifer and Steven have realized that the very nature of this show is actually cruel. And since these two people seem genuinely kind, they don't want to be a part of it anymore. I do find it increasingly hard to watch with all the "Dim the lights! Here we go! Lets see who's going home!" stuff. Should we really be getting excited to see whose heart will be broken next? It feels so wrong.

But I keep watching. So who am I to judge?

After Casey performed, the judges did seem truly pleased. Unfortunately, Steven Tyler's entire feedback got bleeped out so I couldn't write it down. I bet it was good. I bet it would've made a great title for this entry. Oh well.

After the ads, they showed Casey backstage and he said something along the lines of "I made Steven Tyler swear" and basically implied that you can't really get any better than that.

And I thought, well, yeah. He's right. I would love it if my work made Steven Tyler swear, too. Wouldn't it be great to write something that made someone feel so strongly that they didn't care about getting censored on national tv? What came out was BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP to us. But Casey heard what Steven said. And Casey is the only one who needed to.

It was the first moment all night that felt real. I like to think that Steven Tyler said to himself, You know what? We keep telling these contestants to be themselves. So maybe I should take the lead on that. And he let lose and said what he really, truly thought.

I have to say, it gave me hope that all was not lost. Not yet. And while I really wonder what he said, I guess I'm kind of glad I don't know.

"If You Whisper, No One Will Hear You" and Other Terrible Things Not To Believe

Last night my son and I sat down for our weekly brain candy, American Idol. Only, I don't know. It didn't really feel like the kind of candy you get truly excited about. It felt like old, salt-water taffy that gets stuck in your teeth. No offense to the artists. It wasn't about them. It was just about all this "advice" they get and all that "in it to win it" stuff that made me feel like I was about to lose a filling.

Wow. That was negative. I'm sorry.

Despite the discomfort, I stuck it out for a while, waiting for my muse Steven to give me a gem. At first he just kept saying the same thing to each performer. "I liked it" or some such. Even when the judges were telling people how amazing they were and how they were "in the game" now or whatever, it all felt fake and insincere. It really did. I'm sorry.

But then it was Casey Abram's turn and of course they always show the singer meeting with the music mentors first. So he's in the studio with Jimmy Iovine and Will.i.am and he begins to sing his song, "Nature Boy," when Jimmy interrupts him and tells him the song makes him "small."

Oh. No.

"This show's like a hurricane," he said. "If you whisper, no one will hear you."

Oh. No no.

I hate that. I hated it so much. I hated that my son heard that message. Blah.

Jimmy said Casey should sing Phil Collins' "In The Air Tonight" which sounded, to me, like the worst idea in the world.

So what would you do? Would you dare to say no? Would you follow your heart and risk being "small"? Or would you go for the bigger song that isn't you?

Casey risked being small.

And the thing is, I think, sometimes when you whisper, the room goes quiet. Sometimes when you do something unique and inspiring, people stop and pay attention. They strain to hear because they don't want to miss it. It's like they're waking up to a new awareness. And they DO pay attention and they DO hear.

I'm so grateful to Casey for showing my son that. For showing all the people watching that.

Casey wasn't small last night. He wasn't a whisper. People definitely heard. Did they like it? Who knows. But they sure did listen. And I think they listened a lot more carefully than they would have if he'd chosen to sing "In The Air Tonight."

After his performance (and a standing ovation from the judges), my muse Steven said, "You believed what was in your heart and you went for it...That's the truest sense of the word artist."

And Randy Jackson said, "I don't think we've ever had anybody like you on the show. I hope America gets that its about education and embracing who you are. This guy is a jazz artist. There's a place for this and a place for you."

Yes. I think so too.

The funny thing is, just this morning I had an e-mail from an author friend. She'd sold a book she's been shopping around for a very long time. The rejections were all of a similar vein: "You can't do this in YA literature."

But my friend knew in her heart that her story needed to be told. So she kept searching for the editor who would hear her whisper and stop. Listen. Wake up and pay attention. And be inspired.

And because she didn't give up, because she believed what was in her heart, that is exactly what happened.

Believe what's in your heart.

Yes.

You don't have to be a hurricane to be heard.

How Do You Appreciate Your Library?

Did you know that this week is National Library Week?

It is!!

Last year I wrote the following entry to show my appreciation and to support the efforts of Save Libraries. I hope you'll share your story too! :-)

Save Libraries (originally posted April 12, 2010)


(Photo taken from the Meredith Public Library Web site)

When I was growing up, my public library had special bags just for books. Everyone got one.

You could fill it.

I had my own card. My number was 141.

The librarian squealed when we came. She ran out from behind the big desk and hugged us.

The books in the library were covered in clear film and smelled like tape.

They crinkled when you opened them, like some ancient, priceless tome.

I thought they were just for me. But they were for everyone.

Because anyone could go to the library.

You didn't have to be rich. You didn't have to be a certain age. Anyone.

Later, when my mom worked at the library, she used to tell us that a man would come and wash in the bathroom. Then he would spend the day in the warm reading room, catching up on the news. Sometimes he was loud. But they just asked him to talk more quietly. They didn't ask him to leave.

Because anyone could go to the library.

My mother was the children's librarian way up in the renovated attic.

She read to the kids at story hour. And all the young mothers.

Sometimes, the moms talked too loud. But it was OK. This was the one place they could come throughout the year where they didn't have to buy coffee or a book in order to stay. In fact, they could leave with a huge stack of books to read to their kids until the next story hour. And it was free!

Young, young single moms. Grandparents becoming parents again. Moms the third time around. Tired, tired dads. It didn't matter. Everyone was welcome.

Because anyone could go to the library.

And even later, when I got a job in a tiny public library, I would wait for the after school crowd to show up. All the kids who didn't play sports. Or have a parent waiting at pick-up to bring them home. Kids who could go home to a cold, empty house, or come to the library instead.

Which would you choose?

So I waited and made piles of books I thought each kid would like. And I'd hand them over and sometimes help with homework. And give my library "shush" when they got too loud. But they didn't mind. They were at Hogwarts and Terabithia and Narnia. Inside books that I knew would change and shape their lives just like they did mine. All for free. Sometimes they didn't return them on time. Sometimes they'd come back smelling like peanut butter and jelly. Sometimes like cigarette smoke. Sometimes I'd cringe. But I'd still be so glad to know the words of that book were now in the soul of that child. That child that probably didn't own a single book, and yet, owned thousands.

Because anyone could go to the library.

And then later still, when I had my own baby, I would take him to the library in town. He wanted to chew on the board books. He wanted to check out all the Thomas the Tank Engine movies we'd already watched a hundred times. I'd chat with the librarian about YA books that we both loved while E happily crawled on the floor, then toddled, then walked. I made friends with other moms. We started a book group. Anyone could go.

Because anyone could go to the library.

Only now. Now I read about budget cuts. School libraries laying off their librarians. Closing the library doors altogether. City libraries shutting down. Library systems disappearing. New York. New Jersey. California. Pennsylvania. No more free books for people desperate to put a picture book in their child's hand. No more computer access to the kids who don't have them at home. No more wireless for the people who've lost their jobs and need a place to hook up to job search. No more free access to newspapers for the people who don't have TV and can't afford the paper. But want to know what's happening in the world, in their state, in their town. Who want to make informed voting decisions. Who want to understand what's going on.

Libraries aren't just about book lending. They are the heart of most communities. They are the one place in any community that you can go all year, rain or shine, rich or penniless. They are the one place in communities that provide fair and equal access. They don't discriminate. They don't judge. They give over and over and over.

And now is when they are needed most desperately. Now is when they provide the most valuable services. Now is when, even if a state or county is so far in the red they feel they'll never get out, now is when libraries should be getting the green light to extend their hours, not have them taken away. Without libraries, the economic divide in our communities grows even wider. Please. If the library in your community is in danger, speak up. If you can help any library that's in trouble, please do it. This is about kids, babies, new moms and dads, unemployed parents, a lonely retired person who needs weekly or daily interaction and reading material to get them through the week. It's about keeping communities intact. Your community. My community. It matters.

You can learn more here.

Thank you.

Signs of Spring

Yesterday, the duck couple returned
paddling in the small circle of open water on our still-frozen pond
My son broke the snow shovel trying to dig out the basketball hoop
—the base was still under a foot of snow and frozen to the ground
but somehow, the warm weather said, "Time to play"
The crocuses on the side of the house grew up and bloomed out of the slush
My car is covered in mud from the road that has turned soft and oozy
Two birds bumped into the living room window in the throws of their show-off flying
We opened the windows to let the fresh air brush through the house and bring it back to life
This morning, the cats stand at the glass doors, chirping at the birds who've been gone too long
I do not have to hunt for mittens and hat and snow pants to pack with the child
as he heads off to school with just a hoodie for a coat
There is no fire to tend in the wood stove
I am daydreaming of summer guests, birthdays and a book launch—and parties to celebrate them
I wonder if it's too, too soon to bring out the deck furniture (probably)
I am pondering a long walk in the woods before the black flies start to stir
Later, I will clip a few forsythia sprigs to force some bright yellow a week or two early
And I'll begin my daily treks around the house,
guessing when I'll get all the way around without touching snow,
and making embarrassing sounds of glee
each time I see something green poking its way out of the snowy mulch
Life and hope return
Somehow, they always do


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Monday Morning Warm-Up:

What are your signs of spring?


p.s. Thank you very much for all of the thoughtful comments on Friday's post. You all filled me with hope and gladness. xoxo

My Essay For Gay YA

This piece also appears over at Gay YA. They are doing guest blogs by YA authors all month. Please check them out! Thanks. :-)

For Gay YA

Last weekend I was driving near the Brown campus in Providence, RI with my family. When we stopped at a light, two male students crossed the street, holding hands. They were chatting away, smiling, like what they were doing was the most natural thing in the world. My husband and I both commented on how nice that was. And how rare.

Because honestly? In most places in this country, you will not see two boys walking along a busy street holding hands. Carefree. Safe.

In most places in this country, there are still boys and girls just like those two ,wondering what's wrong with them. Wondering if their parents will kick them out of the house if they tell them they're gay. Wondering if their best friends will still be their best friends. Wondering if they will get the crap kicked out of them if anyone finds out.

I hate that this is true.

When my book, LESSONS FROM A DEAD GIRL, was banned from classroom use in a Kentucky school, the objection was that the book contained "inappropriate themes, including homosexuality." Calling homosexuality inappropriate is ridiculous. I know this. You know this. Unfortunately, a lot of people don't.

In my latest book, PEARL, a blogger who reviews books wrote that, while she liked the book very much, she couldn't recommend it because of the homosexual content. A reader thanked her, saying homosexuality in books made her feel "uncomfortable."

When I read this, I cried. Not because I care about the review, but because of what it says about where we are in this country. The irony about all of this, is that the objectionable piece in the book is about two women who love each other and hide it all their lives because they're too afraid to be themselves. And why? Because who they are is "inappropriate." It makes people feel "uncomfortable."

What message do reviews like this give to gay teens who stumble across them? Keep hiding.

That's why I cried.

My older brother was gay. He didn't come out until he was in his twenties. He waited to come out because he was afraid, too. The whole first half of his life he had to be two people. In public, he was one Scott. In private and among a small group of friends, he was the real Scott.

I was lucky enough to know the real Scott. The real Scott had a huge heart. He loved adventure. He loved to travel and eat and read and cook and watch James Bond movies and Dr. Who. He wanted to share all of these things with the people he loved. He used to force me to watch cheesy movies with him, trying to convince me to love them as much as he did. He could put his arm around you and I swear you could feel the unspoken words he meant in that simple gesture. The love he gave in it. But far too few were lucky enough to experience this Scott. This beautiful man who was bursting with love and life and never able to fully share his true self. Because for some crazy reason, for some reason I will never accept, people thought who he was, was "inappropriate." So he hid that side of himself for years. And that is tragic.

What do we do about this?

That's my big question. How do we make the world a more accepting place? How do we make our communities, our schools, our classrooms, our homes, more accepting places?

I wish I knew the big answer.

But I think one small one, is books.

The beauty of books is that they show us a new point of view. They show us what it's like to walk around in someone else's shoes for a while. They show us the world through a different lens. Sometimes it's a more frightening world. Sometimes it's a more beautiful one. Sometimes, it's a more accepting one. Sometimes, it's ugly. But even in those frightening, ugly worlds, we see some tiny reflection of ourselves and the world we know. We find connections to what we ourselves believe, and maybe we shift those beliefs just a little. Maybe we step away a little less intolerant, because we're able to see more clearly the ignorance our intolerance stems from. Maybe we step away able to see the person down the street who we've always been a little afraid of, as a little less scary. I don't know. But I think always, always, we step away changed somehow. For the better. Books do that.

Maybe that's what people who ban gay books are afraid of. Maybe they just need to read more. It's a start.

I'll hold your hand

At some point today, my essay for Gay in YA should go up.

In the meantime, I came across this video via Lee Wind.



I'll hold your hand, too.

<3

Giving A little Piece of Myself, Or More Advice From Steven Tyler

Yesterday, I was working on an essay/guest entry for Gay YA and struggling a bit with figuring out how to say what I want to say. So, I do what I always do when I'm stuck: I shared what I had with my husband. Now, I thought I was nearly there, but when he finished reading he shook his head.

"You're missing a key piece here," he said.


"I know but I don't know what it is," I told him.

"It's YOU," he said. "You haven't put yourself in here yet. When you write things like this, you always give a little piece of yourself away, but I don't see that here. Sorry."

Then, he disappeared with my son to go practice Karate, leaving me sitting on the couch thinking...

Ugh. I don't know how to do this.

So I asked myself. OK, well, why is this important to you in the first place? I mean at its core. Why does this REALLY matter to YOU? And as soon as I asked that question, the memory of someone I love and miss burned in my heart.

And I knew.

I opened my file, took a deep breath, and gave that piece away.

I showed the essay to my husband again and he said, "Yes. That's what I meant. Sorry you had to go there."

Later that night, my son and I tuned in to American Idol for some sage advice from our man Steven Tyler.

And I'm not kidding, after the very first song, this is what he said:

"Man, every time you sing you bring another little piece of yourself to the party, man, and I love that about you and that was beautiful." - Stephen Tyler

Yep.

It's all about revealing that little piece, isn't it?

I know it can be hard. Seriously. Hard. But isn't that the point of writing in the first place?

Today, I'm thankful to Peter, for being honest and helping me see what work had to be done. And to Steven Tyler, who shares his wonderful quirky self every week.

:-)