Laura Shovan's Blog, page 28
January 19, 2016
Laura’s Bookshelf: THE DISTANCE FROM A TO Z
Hey, everyone. I’m migrating my occasional series, “Laura’s Bookshelf,” from Author Amok to the new digs. If you’ve missed a past episode, you’ll find a full list of what’s been on my bookshelf at the end of this post.
One of the best parts about being a debut novelist has been connecting with other middle grade and YA authors in the class of 2016.
Over the holiday break, I read THE DISTANCE FROM A TO Z by Natalie Blitt. This French (and baseball) infused summer romance had me ignoring the cold, dreary weather. Instead, I dreamed about walking on the sunny, cobbled streets of old Montreal. Preferably with a cute boyfriend by my side. (Hey — I’m allowed. My cute HS boyfriend is now my cute husband of nearly 25 years).
Find it on Amazon.
Abby is spending the summer on a college campus, where she is taking an intensive French course, designed to bring her from awkward to fluent in the language of love. Being a Francophile is how Abby has defined and identified herself, a way of separating herself from her family’s overbearing obsession with baseball. There’s only one other high schooler in her class, and he’s super cute, but those baseball t-shirts he’s always wearing are kind of worrying to Abby.
What follows is an adorable “will they or won’t they get together” story. With a lot of coffee. And one of my favorite BFF’s ever, Abby’s summer roommate, Alice.
This contemporary YA launched on January 12. Congratulations on your debut, Natalie! Here is the blurb from Goodreads:
This full-length novel by debut author Natalie Blitt is a pitch-perfect blend of Stephanie Perkins and Miranda Kenneally that proves the age-old adage: opposites attract.
Seventeen-year old Abby has only one goal for her summer: to make sure she is fluent in French—well, that, and to get as far away from baseball and her Cubs-obsessed family as possible. A summer of culture and language, with no sports in sight.
That turns out to be impossible, though, because her French partner is the exact kind of boy she was hoping to avoid. Eight weeks. 120 hours of class. 80 hours of conversation practice with someone who seems to exclusively wear baseball caps and jerseys.
But Zeke in French is a different person than Zeke in English. And Abby can’t help but fall for him, hard. As Abby begins to suspect that Zeke is hiding something, she has to decide if bridging the gap between the distance between who she is and who he is, is worth the risk.
THE DISTANCE FROM A TO Z is appropriate for older middle school and up. (There is some very mild underage drinking).
Who will like it?
Teens who enjoy fun romance novels.
Budding Francophiles.
Readers who share Abby’s need to form an identity for herself.
What will readers learn about?
What it’s like to be immersed in a foreign language program.
How to help a friend who is socially anxious and/or has sensory processing issues (I love you, Alice!)
The importance of honesty in a new romance.
Those who are new to the Bookshelf, I always pair a poem with the books I feature. And I found THE PERFECT poem for Abby and Zeke. If you read May Swenson’s “Analysis of Baseball” as a metaphor for relationships, the push and pull are exactly what’s happening in this story of Summer Lovin’.
Analysis of Baseball
by May Swenson
It’s about Ball fits
the ball, mitt, but
the bat, not all
and the mitt. the time.
Ball hits Sometimes
bat, or it ball gets hit
hits mitt. (pow) when bat
Bat doesn’t meets it,
hit ball, and sails
bat meets it. to a place
Ball bounces where mitt
off bat, flies has to quit
air, or thuds in disgrace.
ground (dud) That’s about
or it the bases
fits mitt. loaded,
about 40,000
Bat waits fans exploded.
for ball
to mate. It’s about
Ball hates the ball,
to take bat’s the bat,
bait. Ball the mitt,
flirts, bat’s the bases
late, don’t and the fans.
keep the date. It’s done
Ball goes in on a diamond,
(thwack) to mitt, and for fun.
and goes out It’s about
(thwack) back home, and it’s
to mitt. about run.
What’s on Laura’s Bookshelf?
COUNTING THYME, by Melanie Conklin (12/31/15)
FENWAY AND HATTIE, by Victoria J. Coe (12/24/15)
THE REMARKABLE JOURNEY OF CHARLIE PRICE, by Jen Maschari (12/3/15)
PAPER WISHES, by Lois Sepahban (11/19/15)
THE GIRL WHO FELL, by S. M. Parker (11/5/15)
SYMPTOMS OF BEING HUMAN, by Jeff Garvin (10/29/15)
SHALLOW GRAVES, by Kali Wallace (10/1/15)
MY SEVENTH GRADE LIFE IN TIGHTS, by Brooks Benjamin (7/22/15)
Actual Laura’s Bookshelf. Clockwise from top: Quote from PB author Melanie Greenberg, Hedwig, owl riding Rumi the tortoise, Babar in a car, Minotaur – Skeleton pirate – Aragorn, meditating cat, crystal ball – fossil – mostly poetry shelf, owl ornament, DIY initials from hubby, me and my bros, favorite books shelf.
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January 18, 2016
Save Our School
This “Save Our School” button is actually a promotional postcard for my book. Can you imagine Ms. Hill’s class wearing buttons like these to protest the closing of Emerson Elementary?
It was one of those serendipitous moments.
My friend, poet and educator J.C. Elkin. was asking about my debut children’s novel, THE LAST FIFTH GRADE OF EMERSON ELEMENTARY.
“So, what’s it about?”
This, fellow writers, is a question that strikes fear into the hearts of many novelists. As soon as these words fall from someone’s lips (especially if that someone is an editor, agent, or book blogger), you have exactly 2-3 sentences to explain the book that you have spent the last X amount of years working on. In a nutshell.
I’d been working my 2-3 sentences, what’s known as “the elevator pitch.” I was prepared.
“Jane,” I said. “It’s about a group of fifth grade poets whose school is being closed and they stage a protest to save it.”
Here comes the serendipity part.
Jane didn’t reply with, “That sounds interesting.” Or “Great topic!” Or even, “And it’s a novel in verse?” Instead, she said. “That happened to me.”
What? Schools — both public and parochial — being shut down is a huge issue in my home state of Maryland right now. [You can read about parents protesting the closing of North Carroll HS at the WBAL website.] Communities are, understandably, invested in their schools. When a Board of Education slates a school for closing, it has a negative impact on the students, families, and the surrounding community.
But that’s happening now. Jane was talking about many years ago, when she was in high school.
“What’s more,” she continued. “We won. We saved our school. And it’s still around today.”
I’ll let Jane, who is a past contributor to my Author Amok blog, tell us the details.
Saving Saint A’s
by Jane C. Elkin
In the winter of 1974, my school nearly closed and I found myself fundraising for a place I thought I hated. It was freshman year at a parochial school I’ll call Saint A’s, which my mother forced me to attend after student-teaching a year at the public school my brothers attended. She transferred me in July when it was too late to say goodbye to my junior high friends, the best friends I’d ever had at the school where I’d been happiest.
Saint A’s was wrong for me on every level. It drew scholars from a thirty-five mile radius in a town I’d never been to. I was a so-so student, gifted with words and inept with numbers. Saint A’s had the worst music program in the state, officially, based on a state-wide competition. I was a talented singer, and the public school music program was the best in the state. Then again, they also had a slew of social problems my mother had seen first-hand: drugs, violence, bomb threats . . . She had seen girls cat-fighting over the fathers of their babies and seen my eldest brother beaten to a bloody pulp by a gang in the woods where he ran cross-country. She saw only a den of iniquity and a naïve girl she needed to shelter. Academics had little to do with her decision, though my second brother, the smart one in the family, was allowed to transfer with me.
Of course, Saint A’s had problems, too. Over its thirteen year history, it had developed a reputation for academic excellence amid mismanagement. Students wore any of four different uniforms dating back to the school’s inception, and the place was drowning in debt because the nuns who founded the school were now outnumbered by lay teachers. The football team, however, after two years without a win, had just won the state championship, and the once glorious debate team was rising from the ashes of dormancy. Nevertheless, when the administrators called a meeting to inform us of the financial crisis, they had already made up their minds to close.
The meeting was held in the gym on a school night, standing-room-only amid a crescendo of nervous chatter. The new principal, a stout nun, sat on the stage as rigid as a deposed monarch on a folding throne. Her diminutive administrator, an affable little priest who’d bungled the budget from day-one, was hunched by her side, the Board lined up at a distance.
After a brief prayer, they cut to the chase. Unfortunately and unavoidably, that year’s graduating class would be the last. Everyone froze in stunned silence. Then a look of dismay washed over their faces, infecting me. After only five months, I suddenly didn’t want to leave. I should have been ecstatic; I was finally going to get what I wanted. But leaving Saint A’s would mean leaving new friends, the speech team, the band’s baton squad, honors classes where I was excelling, and even the tiny chorus where I discovered I liked small ensembles better than large ones.
So there we were, four hundred students trying to wrap our heads around this new reality, and you could hear the hum of the lights.
Then the questions began. How did this happen? How much do we owe? A junior, raising his fist in defiance, yelled Hell no, we won’t go, and I joined in the anti-war chant, marveling at how original he was. The accountant appealed for order and someone from the bleachers called out, “How much do we need to tide us over? Maybe we could raise the money. ”
Instant silence. Why not? A car wash, a raffle, a spaghetti dinner? The usual ideas were tossed around and rejected like underinflated volleyballs. Then some rich kid suggested, “What if each family gave a dollar a day?” A mighty groan went up from the blue collar sector. Three hundred sixty-five dollars was about a year’s tuition in 1974. Today it is over twelve thousand.
Another guy jumped up on the bleachers, patting the air to hush us. “What if we had a pledge drive? We could call it the 365 Club!”
The segue from idea to action was immediate. Desks were dragged in, and within minutes the gymnasium was divided into communities with committees formed and names, phone numbers and addresses recorded. The accountant targeted a figure, and a Saturday was set for the student body to go door-to-door with coffee cans. Our sales pitch: no donation too small but a dollar a day would be great.
A plywood thermometer was posted on the lawn, and we reached our immediate goal by spring. Only one student received a pledge of $365 from a stranger, but it was a real eye-opener to see who gave and who didn’t. My 7th grade English teacher, who lived in a beautiful seaside cottage, didn’t believe in supporting private education –not even a dollar’s worth –but a shabbily dressed maid from the nearby resort emptied her pockets for me.
Smaller fundraisers followed, but our grassroots organization was the magic bandage. Three years later, with the school’s music program officially defunct, I won the state championship for debate and was accepted to a prestigious liberal arts college.
I often ponder how my life would have been different if Saint A’s had closed. I would have gone on to study music, but I wouldn’t have developed academically. I definitely would not have met my debate partner, who caused me to meet my husband, and that meant I wouldn’t have lived in Europe where I became bilingual and continued to hone my vocal skills, which ultimately led to a career teaching language and music.
I went on to sing professionally for thirteen years at, ironically, the country’s largest Catholic church –the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception in Washington, D.C. There, I sang televised soli, made seven recordings, travel to Rome twice, and even sang for the Pope in a private vespers service.
Forty-two years after the 365 Club, twenty-one years of teaching later, thirty-three years of marriage later, two children and two grandchildren later, I can’t complain.
J.C. Elkin is an optimist, linguist and singer whose writings draw heavily on spirituality, feminism, and childhood. Her work teaching English as a Second Language inspired her chapbook World Class (Apprentice House, 2014). Other poetry and prose appear in such journals as Kestrel, Kansas City Voices, Delmarva Review, and Angle. Visit Jane’s webpage at the Broadneck Writers Workshop .
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January 14, 2016
Poetry Friday: My Cruel Invention Giveaway
Where is the poetry action this week?
At Keri Recommends!
I recommend you visit her site
for more Poetry Friday goodness.
This week, I am giving away a copy of the new poetry anthology MY CRUEL INVENTION to one lucky reader. Post a comment to be entered into the drawing. The book is "An outstanding collection of poetry about inventions and inventors, real and imagined," edited by poet Bernadette Geyer. [Quoted from back cover.]
More about the book in a moment. First, a few important announcements for fans of Author Amok.
First: I'm moving my blogging HQ to my newly refurbished website. I'll continue to post Poetry Friday entries here at Author Amok through January 29. As of February 1, you'll find me at my new blog.
Second: I am hosting the fourth (wow!) annual daily poetry prompt this February, with some help from my friends. The theme this year is FOUND OBJECTS. You will find a full explanation of this year's daily poem project at my new location. Past daily poem projects and National Poetry Month series will remain here at Author Amok, so you'll still be able to access those posts.
Now, on to MY CRUEL INVENTION. This cover! The Green Man goes Steampunk.
Find out more on Goodreads.
Check out some of the poem titles from this gorgeous little collection:
"The Rube Goldberg Contraption for Kissing" by Karen Skolfield
"Jekyll's Apology," by Kathryn Rickel
"A Physics Haiku," by Keith Stevenson
"I am a Geothermal Heat-Pump" by Nolan Liebert
"Dance with Rocket Shoes" by Alex Dreppect
"Edison's Elephant, 1903," by Tanis MacDonald
"Catherine de Medici and the High Hell" by Marcela Sulak
"Cadaver Feet" by Karen Bovenmyer
One of my postcard poems, "Eyes on the Back of My Head" is also anthologize here.
I reached out to poet Marjorie Maddox, who has given me permission to share one of my favorite selections from the book with you. I love how time travel underscores the layered interactions between parent and child in this poem.
H.G. Who?
by Marjorie Maddox
"I'm going back in the time machine;
I'll be right back," my daughter hollers
from the backyard when it's time
to set the table. I let her go
off into that world of minutes
cartwheeling backwards
and upside down into the oblivion
of imagination I once knew
in that past she's hurtling toward.
I stay where the seconds click
toward pot roast and green beans,
which she'll later leave on her plate,
off to visit the moon
or that strange new solar system
calling to be discovered.
First published in The Same 10, no. 1, 2012. Posted with express permission of the author. All rights reserved.
You can learn more about Marjorie Maddox and her work at www.marjoriemaddox.com. Or check out her book of poems LOCAL NEWS FROM SOMEPLACE ELSE, which includes "H.G. Who?"
Available from Amazon.
Would you like a copy of MY CRUEL INVENTION to call your own? Leave a comment -- that's all you have to do. I'll choose a winner on Wednesday, January 20.
See you in the stratosphere, fellow travelers. There's a starman, waiting in the sky.
January 11, 2016
“Random Conversations” File, No. 1
Sometimes, when I’m having an extrovert day, I strike up conversations with random people.
“How do you do that,” my fellow introverts might ask? My background in journalism helps. When I was freelancing for the Baltimore Sun, I learned on the job how to ask questions that encourage people to talk about themselves. (The answer, introverts, is deflection. I know you are skilled at this. Ask the questions that will get the other person to talk, so you can continue to listen and not have to talk about yourself.)
My husband claims that these oddball, amazing conversations only happen to me. Readers, you be the judge. Yesterday, I had my own “Humans of New York” moment in Boston.
I was traveling home from the get in a cab from the ALA Midwinter Conference hotel to Logan airport. It was raining. I’d had trouble with the shuttle bus when I arrived, so I took a cab.
Me to cabby: How are you?
Him: I’m old, fat, Republican, and cranky. How are you?
Ok, introverts. This is the moment of truth. In this second, I know that the way I answer will determine if I’m going to crash out in the back seat after a long day of schmoozing, or whether I’m going to chat with this character for the entire ride.
I decide to bite the lure.
Me: I’m middle aged, Democratic, tired, and happy.
The cabby and I proceed to talk football. He respectfully does not bring up the Ravens or the Patriots, but fills me in on a weekend of crazy Wild Card games. As we pull up to the Departures…
Me: Thank you for the football update. I’ve been talking about books all weekend.
Cabby: I love books. I’m a writer.
That perks me up. I’m a writer too, after all. We exchange: my book postcard for his pamphlet.
Cabby: I’m being published for the first time this month, in an anthology.
We squee as much as an old, fat, cranky, Republican and a happy, tired Democrat can over his first publication, a political essay. I give him a $5 tip on a fare under $15, because now I love this guy.
Here is the kicker: I get to the airport and take out his pamphlet. You guys, my lovely, Republican cabby wrote an essay that uses Thomas Paine’s “Common Sense” to make an eloquent argument against a ban on abortion. What an extraordinary person. Well met, Mr. W. Birdwood. Here are a few lines from his pamphlet:
“It might be thought incongruous for so grand and solemn a thing … to be the spawn of a high school graduate who has been mostly homeless for 35 years, but wise people always respect the self-educated and know the spiritual freedom gained by the ascetic.
“For 41 years, I have driven taxis in New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Seattle, and San Francisco. A broad and deep conversation has been conducted with the American People, who are found to be a people intent on being worthy of the sovereignty their nation’s charter invests in them.”
Let that sink in, “The American People, who are found to be a people intent on being worthy of the sovereignty their nation’s charter invests in them.” What a mind!
I’ll post some pictures of the pamphlet later today.
Thank you, W. Birdwood. As Ray Bradbury said, “They were all, when their souls grew warm, poets.” The end.
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January 7, 2016
Announcing: 2016 Found Object Poem Project
Hey, Writerly Friends. February is almost here. You know what that means. It’s time for our annual daily writing workout!
For the past three years — in order to practice writing and give something back to others during my birthday month — my blog has hosted a big poetry project.
In 2013, I wrote every day in response to vintage postcards. (Find the list of postcard poems here.)
In 2014, over a dozen poets joined me for the project. We all wrote in response to Pantone paint colors. (Find the list of Pantone poems here.)
2015’s project was writing in response to sounds. Fourteen writers participated and we wrote 177 original poems. (Find the list of sound poems here.)
“Doll.” Found in a tree stump at Squam Lake, NH.
Since our past projects have focused on visual and auditory prompts, let’s go multi-sensory this year. Our 2015 theme is FOUND OBJECTS. For the next several weeks, please send in photographs of found objects to use as our writing prompts. We’ll need 29 of them — it’s leap year.
Every Friday throughout February, I will post a week’s worth of found objects. No context will be shared until the poems are posted. You are invited to write in response to the object (see suggested writing prompts below).
I’ll post our poems and other written responses every day in February, or at least several times a week. Whoever shares the most poems this month will win a prize!
IMPORTANT NOTE FOR PROJECT NEWBIES: The point of this exercise is to practice the habit of writing regularly, even if it’s just for one month. I post the responses as they are sent in so that we can focus on generating ideas, rather than on polishing for publication.
I’ll post more instructions at the end of January. For now, send in those found objects!
How do you respond in writing to a found object?
As a poet and editor, I often see poems that begin with a visual image. Let’s stretch and use our five senses as a point of entry this time. What does the object look, smell, sound, feel, and taste like to you? Try using a non-visual image in your poem’s first line.
Here are some other ideas:
What is the object’s backstory?
Build a setting: Where might this object be found?
Write a persona poem in the voice of the object.
Prose writers, you are welcome to join us. Use the found objects to create a 100-250 word writing sprint. Are you working on a novel? How would your protagonist react to finding this object?
Is it me, or were the Cracker Jack prizes better when we were kids?
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December 31, 2015
Laura's Bookshelf: COUNTING THYME
It's the first Poetry Friday of 2016!
Mary Lee is hosting our New Year's Party
at A Year of Reading.
Being part of a debut author group has given me
behind-the-scenes insights and previews of so many great books coming out this
year.
One of those books is COUNTING THYME, by Melanie Conklin.
This middle grade novel is about a family who moves from
California to New York City, so the youngest of the three Owens siblings can be
part of a cancer drug trial. The narrator is middle child Thyme (all three sibs
are named for spices). Thyme is a super-feeler. She struggles with balancing her
grief about moving away from her home, her grandmother and her best friend,
with her hope that moving across the country will extend little brother Val’s
life.
Because this is Thyme’s story, Val’s illness – while important –
is only a part of the narrative. Thyme has to deal with adjusting to a new
school and classmates, living in an apartment building for the first time, and
navigating a busy city. All of these elements work together to create a realistic
portrait of a loving family going through the highs and lows of an extended
crisis together. I especially liked that the finale of the book is about Thyme’s
growth, and that some important threads of the story are left, believably,
open-ended.
Check out Melanie's blog post,
"Focus on the Good Stuff in 2016."
You'll find printables to create
an achievement jar similar to Thyme's.
COUNTING THYME debuts on April 12. Here is the blurb from
Goodreads:
Newbery-winning Rules meets Counting by 7s in this
affecting story of a girl’s devotion to her brother and what it means to be
home
When eleven-year-old Thyme Owens’ little brother,
Val, is accepted into a new cancer drug trial, it’s just the second chance that
he needs. But it also means the Owens family has to move to New York, thousands
of miles away from Thyme’s best friend and everything she knows and loves. The
island of Manhattan doesn’t exactly inspire new beginnings, but Thyme tries to
embrace the change for what it is: temporary.
After Val’s treatment shows real promise and Mr.
Owens accepts a full-time position in the city, Thyme has to face the
frightening possibility that the move to New York is permanent. Thyme loves her
brother, and knows the trial could save his life—she’d give anything for him to
be well—but she still wants to go home, although the guilt of not wanting to
stay is agonizing. She finds herself even more mixed up when her heart feels
the tug of new friends, a first crush, and even a crotchety neighbor and his
sweet whistling bird. All Thyme can do is count the minutes, the hours, and
days, and hope time can bring both a miracle for Val and a way back home.
With equal parts heart and humor, Melanie
Conklin’s debut is a courageous and charming story of love and family—and what
it means to be counted.
There’s a book giveaway running at Goodreads right now! Click on this link for your chance to win a copy of COUNTING THYME .
Who will like it?
Children 9 and up who are curious about living in a big city.
Readers who are learning how to handle transitions
Foodies young and old!
What will readers learn about?
The sacrifices and changes that happen when a member of a family
is seriously ill.
Patience and a positive attitude can help when you’re going through
a difficult transition.
Food is a way of sharing with and caring about each other.
I’m pairing two poems with COUNTING THYME and both have to do
with food. Over the course of the novel, Thyme learns that food is a wonderful
way to show you care about someone. There’s a great character in COUNTING THYME
who’s the Italian aunt version of Downton Abbey’s Mrs. Patmore. The dishes she
makes for Thyme, the Owens family, and a cranky neighbor had my mouth watering.
A good portion of the story takes place over the winter
holidays, so first up is Babara Crooker’s poem “After the Holidays.”
After the Holidays
by
Barbara Crooker
the house settles back into itself,
wrapped up in silence, a robe
around its shoulders. Nothing
is roasting in the oven or cooling
on the countertops. No presents
are waiting to be wrapped, no cards
fill the mouth of the mailbox.
All is calm, all is bright, sunlight
glinting off snow. No eggnog, no yule
log, no letters to be licked
and stamped. No more butter
cookies, no more fudge, just miles
to go on the treadmill, another round
plate added to the weight machine.
All our good intentions pave the road.
We stride out into the new year,
resolute to become firm, to define
our muscles, to tighten our borders…
Read the
rest at Your Daily Poem.
Of
course, I couldn’t resist including Shel Silverstein poem
entitled “Italian Food.”
Italian Food
by Shel Silverstein
Oh, how I love Italian food.
I eat it all the time,
Not just 'cause how good it tastes
But 'cause how good it rhymes.
Minestrone, cannelloni,
Macaroni, rigatoni,
Spaghettini, scallopini,
Escarole, braciole,
Insalata, cremolata, manicotti,
Marinara, carbonara,
Shrimp francese, Bolognese...
Read the rest at the Huffington Post.
Author Melanie Conklin and Cookies for Kids’ Cancer
are partnering to fight childhood cancer
through funding for groundbreaking research!
Melanie is running a great fundraiser to support the charity Cookies for Kids' Cancer. For every pre-order of COUNTING THYME, she will be making a donation! You can read more about the fundraiser here.
I hope your new year is sweet, everyone! I’ll be at ALA
Midwinter next week, so I won’t be blogging. Look for my ALA report at Today’s
Little Ditty at the end of January.
December 24, 2015
Laura's Bookshelf: FENWAY AND HATTIE
Poetry Friday and Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!
Ring in the winter holiday season
with your poetry friends!
Irene Latham is hosting
this week's poetry links
at Live Your Poem.
One
of the biggest gifts my family received this year was this guy:
I stopped by a local animal shelter on a whim, told someone I
was looking for a mellow older dog to be a companion for our Schnauzer Sam, and was quickly
matched with an overweight, "can I go back to sleep yet?" Beagle mix. Introductions were made. When I
brought Rudy home to my husband – Happy Anniversary and surprise! here is the
dog I wanted -- he had bald spots on his tail, a gash on his ear, parasites in
his lungs, and 20 pounds to lose.
Rudy is as mellow and companionable as advertised. The parasites are gone, but
his snores still shake the walls. We all laugh at his antics, especially the time this now-50-pound dog (he’s down about 10) decided to take over little Sam’s
bed.
Since I am now the dog mama of two goofy boys, I couldn’t
wait to read FENWAY AND HATTIE.
One
of the best parts about being a debut novelist has been connecting with other
children's and YA authors in the class of 2016. FENWAY AND HATTIE, by Victoria J. Coe, is one of the Advanced Reader’s Copies (ARCs) making the rounds of my
author group.
This
super cute early middle grade novel is told in the voice of a young Jack
Russell Terrier named Fenway. Fenway is devoted to his girl, Hattie. It’s his
job to protect Hattie and her family from intruders, like the ones who arrive
one day and TAKE ALL THEIR STUFF! Is it a robbery? Only in Fenway’s doggie
mind. In actuality, the family is moving from the city to the suburbs.
Fenway
sees Hattie through a somewhat rocky adjustment to her new neighborhood. He’s
got his own adjustments to make. Exuberant Fenway begins training, and has to
learn that Hattie is not just his loving human, but also the One in Charge. (I
feel your frustration, Hattie. I’ve learned from our Sam that terrier breeds
have BIG personalities.)
Fenway
and Hattie both begin making the transition to adolescence in the pages of this
funny book. Just as Hattie must practice to control her throwing arm --she
hopes to play baseball--, Fenway must practice to control his fear of THE
WICKED FLOOR. (Sam feels your pain, Fenway. Slippery floors are no fun. When
your front legs are running and your back legs are suddenly skittering off in
another direction? The indignity!)
Find it on Indiebound.
FENWAY
AND HATTIE debuts in February. Here is the blurb from Goodreads:
This lovable new series introduces a little dog with a GIANT
personality!
Fenway is an excitable and endlessly energetic
Jack Russell terrier. He lives in the city with Food Lady, Fetch Man, and—of
course—his beloved short human and best-friend-in-the-world, Hattie.
But when his family moves to the suburbs, Fenway
faces a world of changes. He’s pretty pleased with the huge Dog Park behind his
new home, but he’s not so happy about the Evil Squirrels that taunt him from
the trees, the super-slippery Wicked Floor in the Eating Room, and the changes
that have come over Hattie lately. Rather than playing with Fenway, she seems
more interested in her new short human friend, Angel, and learning to play
baseball. His friends in the Dog Park next door say Hattie is outgrowing him,
but that can’t be right. And he’s going to prove it!
Get a dog’s-eye view of the world in this
heartwarming, enthusiastic “tail” about two best friends.
FENWAY
AN H ATTIE is a middle grade novel, appropriate for second grade and up
(younger as a read aloud).
Who
will like it?
·
Animal
lovers and pet owners.
·
Kids
who think physical comedy is hysterical.
·
Readers
who are learning how to handle transitions
What
will readers learn about?
·
What
it’s like to view the world from a dog’s-eye-view.
·
It
takes time to adjust to change, whether you are a person or a dog.
The
poem I’m pairing with FENWAY AND HATTIE is a dog’s-eye-view poem by my friend,
Michael Salcman. It comes from his book THE ENEMY OF GOOD IS BETTER. In
addition to being a poet and neurosurgeon, Michael is an art critic and
collector. This wonderful ekphrastic poem was written in response to a painting
by Henri Matisse.
Read about this painting at
the Baltimore Museum of Art's blog.
The
Dog Speaks
--Interior with
Dog (Matisse), 1934
By
Michael Salcman
I’m only half-asleep so I know you’re standing there
Wondering if I’m asleep. Nope.
It’s not easy to rest under this table—
For one thing, there’s a strong downward slope
And gravity’s got me half tipped out of my basket
Like an apple by Cezanne.
Talk about a flat world!
For another, I can’t get way from these colors
The red floor tiles, orange table leg
And pink wall burning on my lids like the sun.
Then again I’m never alone; the kids think a gray dog is
cute
And I’m the only dog in the room. I was bribed
(that’s my excuse) with a bone
And a bowl of fresh water. Really,
I wish you wouldn’t stare—it’s extra hard to be an icon
When you’re not an odalisque and have no hair.
Here’s the inside dope, he wore a vest when he painted them
But saved his housecoat for me. I liked sitting for him,
He was never rude and spared me his violin.
I think I look very dignified, not naked, just nude.
Merry Christmas from Rudy, Sam, and me!
December 17, 2015
Poetry Friday: Counting Down to 2016
Thanks to Diane Mayr
at Random Noodling
for hosting this week's
Poetry Friday shenanigans.
Two weeks from today, we will be welcoming a new year. There are so many unexpected surprises ahead of us. But there are also events we are looking forward to. Maybe you have a wedding, a new baby in the family, or a long-planned trip that will finally happen in 2016.
For me, 2016 marks my debut as a middle grade author. It's been so much fun to share the journey from draft to final book with my Poetry Friday friends. You're all (almost) as excited as I am. How do I know that? This is what wonderful Irene Latham sent me for the Poetry Friday Holiday Swap.
A poetry collage!
The little finch card reminds me of a poem in my book where a girl is watching a cardinal and his mate prepare a nest in early spring.
And wow -- this beautiful collage. Did Irene know there's a scene in my book where a character compares all the people in the hallways on International Night to a busy outdoor fruit and vegetable market?
The steeple makes me think of my book's setting, in an aging school building.
And I love how Irene used elements of THE LAST FIFTH GRADE OF EMERSON ELEMENTARY's cover in the collage. That's Brianna at the top right corner and Sloane near the bottom, by the button.
I still haven't figured out what the mysterious writing says, but I'm intrigued.
Here is Irene's poem:
INTO ARRIVAL
by Irene Latham
for Laura
Children march
through the streets
of this newly bound city,
offer their stories
like farmers at the market:
Pomegranate? Papaya?
Here a syllable, there a stanza,
soon words rise like steeples
across a white paper sky --
spring breeze tickles,
whispers, welcome,
we've been waiting for you.
Poem shared with permission of the author.
And here is an excerpt from a poem in my book, "Faces," in the voice of Norah Hassan:
... Tonight,
our school
reminds
me of shopping in the Old Jerusalem market.
... Fifty
types of peppers to eat!
Pale
green, yellow as a lemon, dark brown, red,
each
with a different flavor.
On
International Night,
the
halls are as noisy as an outdoor market.
Thank you, Irene, for helping me celebrate my book's upcoming debut with such a beautiful poem of welcome. I'm honored!
December 3, 2015
Laura's Bookshelf: THE REMARKABLE JOURNEY OF CHARLIE PRICE
Festive occasions are especially challenging when we've suffered a recent loss. The grandmother, son, or friend who always told the best jokes at gatherings, made homemade blueberry pie, or gave warm, comforting hugs is absent from the festivities for the first time.
Let's gather together for the comfort
of friendship and poetry
at Buffy Silverman's blog this week.
One of the best parts about being a debut novelist has been connecting with other children's and YA authors in the class of 2016. We’ve had a great time sharing each other’s Advanced Reader’s Copies (ARCs). Several weeks ago, I read Jen Maschari's middle grade novel THE REMARKABLE JOURNEY OF CHARLIE PRICE.
THE REMARKABLE JOURNEY OF CHARLIE PRICE
is available for pre-order.
From the moment I opened this book, Charlie felt like a real kid. He's got the in-betweenness of a middle schooler, used to being a goofy little kid, but trying to be a wiser, smarter (and smart aleckier sometimes) adolescent. There's a heaviness to Charlie, despite the natural good humor that peeks through the restrained demeanor he shows to adults and friends. Charlie's mother has recently died of cancer, and loss is where he lives.
If you don't think loss can be a setting, as well as an emotion, consider the ways that losing a parent affects a young family. Meals can never measure up to the ones prepared by Charlie's mom, nor can they be eaten as an intact family. Dad, engrossed with his work as a way to manage his own depression, forgets to help Charlie and his younger sister Imogen with everyday chores like laundry and packing lunches. Every little detail of their warm, but increasingly neglected home, is drawn to portray how the Price family's lives now, compared to how they used to be.
I found the use of magical realism in this novel to be an effective metaphor for grief. Charlie and his younger sister discover a portal to an alternate reality where their mother is invitingly alive. The more time they spend with this shadow mother, the less present they are in their real lives. By the time Charlie recognizes the danger, he must reach out and accept help from others in order to rescue his sister. To me, the portal world (under Imogen's bed) was symbolic of the ways that grief can pull us down until we feel that we are hardly alive ourselves.
THE REMARKABLE JOURNEY OF CHARLIE PRICE debuts in February. Here is the blurb from Goodreads:
A heartfelt, beautifully written novel of love, loss, and math—perfect for fans of Rebecca Stead and Sharon M. Draper.
Ever since twelve-year-old Charlie Price's mom died, he feels like his world has been split into two parts. Before included stargazing and Mathletes and Saturday scavenger hunts with his family. After means a dad who's completely checked out, comically bad dinners, and grief group that's anything but helpful. It seems like losing Mom meant losing everything else he loved, too.
Just when Charlie thinks things can't get any worse, his sister, Imogen, starts acting erratically—missing school and making up lies about their mother. But everything changes when one day he follows her down a secret passageway in the middle of her bedroom and sees for himself.
Imogen has found a parallel world where Mom is alive!
There's hot cocoa and Scrabble and scavenger hunts again and everything is perfect . . . at first. But something doesn't feel right. Whenever Charlie returns to the real world, things are different, and not in a good way. And Imogen wants to spend more and more time on the other side. It's almost as if she wants to leave the real world for good. If Charlie doesn't uncover the truth, he could lose himself, the true memory of their mother, and Imogen . . . forever.
THE REMARKABLE JOURNEY OF CHARLIE PRICE is a middle grade novel, appropriate for third grade and up. Because of the subject matter, younger readers will find it helpful to discuss Charlie's story with an adult.
Who will like it?
Readers who like stories that blend fantasy and contemporary elements.
Kids who are beginning to ask about and understand the concept of grief.
Dog lovers. (Cover dog Ruby is quite a heroine!)
What will readers learn about?
People who are grieving need time before they are ready to engage in "normal life" again.
Kids who have suffered a loss have lots of helpers they can reach out to: friends, teachers, counselors, even pets.
One way to cope with loss is to share memories of the person who has died.
There were many poems I thought of pairing with THE REMARKABLE JOURNEY OF CHARLIE PRICE. We often turn to poetry in times of loss, so there are wonderful poems on this theme. I like this one by poet and children's author Naomi Shihab Nye because it is powerful in its simplicity.
One Way or Another
By Naomi Shihab Nye
She is gone, where did she go?
He can’t imagine how the house will feel
when he enters it, moving room to room.
Now that the wait is over, a larger pause
will blanket the roof, softness settling
slowly down. By which window or door
may future days enter?
Read the rest of the poem at Poets.org.
You might also like the anthology THIS PLACE I KNOW: POEMS OF COMFORT, edited by Georgia Heard.
Candlewick has a PDF about the book here.
November 19, 2015
Laura's Bookshelf: PAPER WISHES
Broadway bound this week!
The *STAR*
of this week's Poetry Friday production
is Tricia at The Miss Rumphius Effect.
One of the best parts about being a debut
novelist has been connecting with other children's and YA authors in the class of
2016. We’ve had a great time sharing each other’s Advanced Reader’s Copies (ARCs). Among my
favorite books so far is the historical middle grade novel PAPER WISHES, by
Lois Sepahban.
PAPER WISHES is available for pre-order.
“What does a historical middle grade novel
have to do with Broadway?” you may ask. I shall reveal all.
I read Lois’s book in September. It is the
story of Manami, whose family is forced to relocate to a Japanese internment
camp during World War II. Manami focuses much of her grief on the loss of her
dog, Yujiin, whom she feels guilty about leaving behind. The dusty camp and prison-like living
conditions physically and psychologically cause Manami to stop speaking.
I found this
character’s spare first-person voice to be poetic and deeply moving -- her
halting inner monologue reflects Manami’s reluctance to speak out loud about her pain and fears. PAPER
WISHES is a beautiful book about a dark period in American history.
Not long after I finished PAPER WISHES, my friend and fellow musical
theater lover Timanda Wertz and I had tickets to see a new musical in New York City. ALLEGIANCE is about ... a Japanese American family that is relocated to a World War II era internment camp.
I
have been following this show’s journey to Broadway for several years. It is the
creative brainchild of actor George Takei, whose family was relocated to an
internment camp when he was five. (Read about it in this NY Times article.) Takei is one of the stars of the show.
What serendipity to have Lois' wonderful book fresh in my mind when Timanda and I went to see this play. I nearly flipped out: the first big number is about writing wishes on slips of paper and releasing them into the wind! There were so many echoes between Manami’s story and this big Broadway musical: the connection to
family, people making gardens and growing their own food in the camps, and how
baseball became an outlet for young people there.
We had a great trip to New York, I finally met my editor and, for the first time in my life, I waited outside the backstage door for autographs.
PAPER WISHES is available in
January. Here is the blurb from Goodreads:
A moving debut novel about a girl whose family
is relocated to a Japanese internment camp during World War II--and the dog she
has to leave behind.
Ten-year-old Manami did not realize how peaceful her family's life on
Bainbridge Island was until the day it all changed. It's 1942, after the attack
on Pearl Harbor, and Manami and her family are Japanese American, which means
that the government says they must leave their home by the sea and join other
Japanese Americans at a prison camp in the desert. Manami is sad to go, but
even worse is that they are going to have to give her dog, Yujiin, to a
neighbor to take care of. Manami decides to sneak Yujiin under her coat, but
she is caught and forced to abandon him. She is devastated but clings to the
hope that somehow Yujiin will find his way to the camp and make her family
whole again. It isn't until she finds a way to let go of her guilt that Manami
can accept all that has happened to her family.
PAPER WISHES is a middle grade novel, appropriate for third grade through middle school. Younger children may enjoy it as a read aloud. Either way, be prepared to answer a lot of questions.
In this time, when our
country is debating the definition of citizenship and whether we have enough
empathy for war victims to provide them refuge, PAPER WISHES is an important book to read with children.
Who will like it?
History buffs.
Readers who are interested in (or living) bi-cultural or first generation experiences.
Kids who will recognize the strong bond Manami has with her grandfather.
Groups who want a safe platform for discussing a complicated moral issue like xenophobia.
What will readers
learn about?
What it was like to live in a Japanese internment camp.
How to cope with loss, grief, and racism.
Hope is possible, even in the most difficult circumstances.
The poem I'm pairing
with PAPER WISHES isn’t officially a poem. Instead, here are the opening lines from the song
“Gaman,” which is featured in ALLEGIANCE.
“Gaman” from
Allegiance
Words and Music by Jay Kuo
Gaman is a word to be
spoken and heard
In this place where
each face tells a story of pain.
Gaman we must say as
we get through each day
We will bear any
nightmare with a simple refrain.
Gaman. Gaman. Sturdy
and sure. Keep faith and endure.
Gaman. Gaman. Hold
your head high. Carry on. Gaman.
Learn more about
the Japanese word “Gaman,” and listen to amazing Lea Salonga singing the
song (
