Stalker

by Amy Huntley

The Advanced Reader Copy of my upcoming book arrived recently. I got an email on a Wednesday from my assistant editor, Ruta Rimas, telling me it was coming. She also gave me the tracking number of its package. This tracking number became the catalyst for a major personality change on my part.

I became a package stalker.

While talking to some of the younger teachers at school, I discovered that package tracking was not uncommon among the younger--and I need not say more technologically savvy--set. I have used package tracking on rare occasions before--but only when a package whose delivery date had already expired hadn't yet reached my door. But stalking a package--that was all new for me. Apparently there are people in the world who have such a difficult time waiting for deliveries that they begin tracking the package before it's delivery date.

I became one of them.

I was so looking forward to getting that package that within two minutes of the arrival of that fateful email from HarperCollins, I was at the UPS site tracking the package. For the next two days, I kept track of every city the package went through. I knew what it's arrival scan time was. What it's departure scan time was. Friday morning, I announced to my husband, "The package went out for delivery from Lansing at 6:50 this morning."  By eleven o'clock, I knew that the package had been placed on a delivery truck at 7:50. And when the package arrived at 2:45, I ran out to the delivery truck to meet the UPS man.  (Who, by the way, seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he was delivering a package to me that would change my life. He did smile nicely at me, though.)

It's official. I've entered into a new technological state of personality. I may just become a regular package stalker. 

But I hope not. There should be something special that sets apart the arrival of your very first ARC from all other packages delivered in your lifetime.

Writing Outdoors

By Tim Bogar
MI really like to write outdoors. You may recall that at our Hankerd Inn retreat, I did a fair amount of writing on the deck.
MI have done a lot of writing on my patio. I have lots of flowers in pots, and it's nice when the butterflies and birds stop by while I'm writing. I love the breeze, the sunshine, the fresh air. The patio is quite private, which is good, since I'm distractable
MIt has an electrical outlet so I don't have to use my laptop battery. I set up a card table in the shade of the eaves, or in the shade of a Rose of Sharon bush. That way, I can almost always keep the screen in the shade.
MUNFORTUNATELY, I am far and away too sensitive to noise. In my neighborhood there's a lot of lawn mowing and clipping blowing. (Has no one heard of a broom?) One day last summer I just set up outside and someone nearby started mowing. I went in. They stopped, I went out and set up, and you guessed it. This happened a third time before I gave up. It didn't actually amuse me.
MSo this summer I'll probably stay inside. I've set up a different, quieter writing space without an easy internet hookup, and I'll probably keep writing there.

Screen the Screen

I love the idea of writing outdoors, but I never do. I find it difficult to see the monitor of my laptop in natural light. I've heard you can buy a filter for the monitor to solve this problem. Perhaps I'll get one before the writing retreat.

So, no, Mr. Fresco has never written back to me. If he ever does, I hope it won't be a rejection letter.

Do You Write Al Fresco (And If So, Does Mr. Fresco Reply?)

It's not spring yet, but it sure does feel like it today. So.. how about a weather-related question-of-the-week:

When the weather's nice, do you write outdoors? Or are you strictly an indoor writer? (Or are you perhaps like a cat, and can't make up your mind?)

Write-Brainers, post 'em if you've got 'em. All others, feel free to chime in in the Comments section.

I Lead a Charmed Life

Several centuries ago, Lori asked a "Question of the Week" on the topic of what charms, trinkets, and inspirational objects do you keep in your writing desk area. After some delay, I'm finally answering. (I'd love to have thumbnail images for you, but you'll just have to use your imagination.) In my writing vicinity, you will find the following:

• Two framed b&w photos of my children. The photos were taken by my talented photographer Dad.
• A fishy sun-catcher, given to me by my wonderful Mom.
• My favorite pottery mug, holding one pen. It's my writing pen. I try to use it.
• A Pout-Pout Fish mug, full of other pens.
• An SCBWI mug, mostly full of unsharpened pencils (I've been meaning to sharpen them, but somehow haven't). This mug also contains a rooster pen, given to me by April; though it's now out of ink, I still treasure it.
• A Lego office complete with Lego Debbie at a Lego computer and with a built-in Lego Post-It Note holder. This original creation was put together by my elder son.
• Another Lego creation, a box with a secret compartment, built by my younger son. I'm afraid if I open it, I'll never get it back together properly, so I just use my imagination as to what it contains.
• Three pieces of art by my boys.
• A birdhouse decoration that originally sat on top of my wedding cake.
• A magnet that says, "When you absolutely, positively have to know: Ask A Librarian!"
• A small pottery container given to me by April. It stores the earplugs that I wear when writing if the children are loud (i.e. when they're awake).
• A magnificently lovely barn photo taken by my Dad.
• A beautiful tile turkey created by Shutta Crum.
• A Laura B. DeLind linocut, "Great Expectations."
• A collection of rocks. Each rock has its own story.
• A coaster with my elder son's handprint.
• A coupon from my younger son, good for "One Big Hug." It includes, in his writing, an expiration date: 100/100/1020.

It's a charmed life, indeed.

Good Luck Charms

I recently brought my mother's antique writing desk up to my bedroom and have been using it as my workplace. In the past I have worked at my kitchen table, in my living room at a TV tray, at a rolling desk to follow the sunbeam through my house (like a dog).

Something happened when I started working at an actual desk, though. Little treasures accumulated: A beautiful Robert Sabuda pop-up Christmas card from my friend Erin, a picture of my kids, a framed Gwen Frostic poem that used to be Debbie's, an enormous conch seashell from my childhood. There is an encouraging card from my mother, with congratulations for a small publication. A favorite handpainted china saucer is used as a coaster. I have a clay figurine molded by one of my kids when they were very young. It's supposed to be a dog, but resembles something more alligator-like. There is also some junk in the drawers that needs cleaning out, and some clutter in the little side bins, too.

I never thought of these things as particularly or deliberately inspiring, but I realize now how nice it is to have my own little corner with trinkets and things to look at while I work. They are sort of the opposite of distracting, which is what you call inspiration I suppose.

This question was on Kirby Larson's blog: What are the things you keep on your shelves or on your walls that celebrate your writing self? That comfort you? That inspire you?

Let's make that our question this week. Tell us what it looks like where you are working. :o)

Winter Whoa Woes

I'm inordinately unfond of winter. Other than cross-country skiing, I find no use for snow. I detest winter driving. And the cold? I have nothing good to say about it. Nor, really, about winter in general. The days are short, and cabin fever a reality. All the hot cocoa in the world doesn't quite make up for winter's shortcomings.

On the plus side? Few distractions.

No flowers to smell. No long jacketless walks to take. No beaches to visit. No lawns to mow.

As long as I can ward off the midwinter doldrums (a battle I'm slowly winning as the years go on -- lots of exercise and sufficient sleep seem to help greatly), I actually get quite a bit of writing done in the winter. When there's little else to do but hunker down and work, well, one hunkers down and works.

But as soon as that first crocus pops up? I'm clockin' out!

Writing Through the Seasons

-April

Is it a form of affective disorder to have your writing ability influenced by sunlight (or lack thereof)? We should really come up with an official term for weather writing. For me, it's not just my writing that is affected by winter, though: I go into a form of hibernation that looks a lot like me walking around, but isn't. I'm somewhere deep inside, waiting it out.
I do like to read in the winter, like Lori says. Big fat books, late at night with tea nearby.

That being said, I have lately decided to push myself to tie up some loose ends with unfinished stories. Just yesterday, I completed a first draft of a playful project involving nursery rhymes. This week, I edited a nonfiction piece that I'd put on the back shelf many months ago. Today, I'm working on another idea.
So I guess it's not so much the Weather, as Whether or not you can overcome it!

Turning, Turning

By Lori

My writing normally doesn't follow seasonal ebbs and flows, but has a cycle all its own. The current downward turn is happening to coincide with the middle of the winter, which is a bummer, because winter on it's own doesn't promote a lot of motivation in general on my part.

So, I have been reading a lot, reviewing books and conducting industry interviews for my blog, seeing movies and giving my brain a chance to incubate some ideas. I'm trying to honor the cycle, in hopes that I can help things along by not getting my undies in a bunch over things.

I'm considering abandoning a story I have outlined because it's not holding my interest. Maybe I'll go back to it another day, or incorporate bits of that plot into whatever I work on next. Nothing is wasted. I have a new idea that is very close to my heart, is but a wisp on the paper as of yet. But perhaps I'll tackle it head on in the weeks ahead. And maybe that will be the upswing for a while, until I have to get quiet again.

And so the circle goes. I keep turning turning turning until, eventually (hopefully) I come around right. . . .

Car Won't Start

by Ann

My writing is stalled, and it is tempting to blame the cold.

In fairness though, the real culprit is a ton of family issues. Also I'm in the slowing accelerating phase of a new project. I've done character sketches, made flow charts, and written pages of notes. Soon, I will plan a chapter-by-chapter sequence of events.

The main problem is my main character has lost his voice. Yes, I've tried taking him to the doctor, but the car keeps sliding into snow drifts. Maybe if I could get outside and ski or hike, I could rev up my brain and hear his nerdy, self-absorbed little voice again.

Weather Whither

This week's question for Write Brainers and Write Brainer Readers is...

What with winter currently upon us (subzero temps and windchill and all), do you find that you're writing substantially more, or less, due to the season? Does winter cause you to head in and hole up with your pencil? Or does winter bring on a bout of cabin fever that cuts into your creativity? If winter's not your thing, do you have a particular favorite season for writing?

(OK, so that was more than one question. Call it a question "cluster" if you will. Anyway. Discuss.)

In Case You're Keeping Track Today...

And just where is Santa now?

http://www.noradsanta.org/en/home.html

Fuzzy-Wuzzy Wuz A Santa

Our question of the week was about favorite holiday books from childhood. My personal favorite is one that I remember not for its plot but for its texture: an oversized (quite tall) paperback Christmas story, which I believe but cannot swear to was an edition of The Night Before Christmas. The crucial feature of the book? The fuzzy Santa on its cover. To me, he's the Santa to whom all other Santas must be compared.

It might have been a Whitman edition, circa 1950s or 1960s. It's still extant at my parents' place; I'll have to take a look at the publication info when I'm there next week.

(...but not until after I've finished my annual convening with its cover.)

Still More Good News

We're delighted to announce that TIME in partnership with CNN chose The Pout Pout Fish by Deborah Diesen, pictures by Dan Hanna as one of the Top Ten Children's Books of 2008.

Congratulations, Debbie!

Just Enough is Plenty

by Ann

When my boys were small, our favorite holiday book was Just Enough is Plenty: a Hanukkah Tale by Barbara Diamond Goldin, paintings by Seymour Chwast (Puffin Books, 1988). I remember sitting in the big chair with Jeremy in my lap, and Sam squeezed in beside me, reading this book and singing along with the characters. (It’s been at least a decade since the three of us could fit in that chair at the same time.)

Today, as I reread the book, I was amazed at the amount of text, and I squirmed a little at the heavy handed explanations of Jewish culture. Yet, the story rings true. What do we look for in holiday books but a depiction of our culture and the retelling of a miracle? The story is also a reminder that long before our current economic crisis, people survived hardships with generosity and grace.

Just Enough is Plenty takes place in Poland, probably in the 1800s. It illustrates life in a small Jewish village during the Hanukkah celebration and retells the story of Elijah the Prophet.

Question of the Week

The holiday season brings a slew of new holiday fare from publishers, including reprints of old favorites. I ask the Write Brainers:

What is your favorite holiday book or story from your own childhood? A version of 'Twas the Night before Christmas? Dickens? O. Henry? Or maybe you want to talk about a current favorite. The Latke who Couldn't Stop Screaming? Oh, and tell us why you like it, of course.

Writing during Seminars and Meetings

by Kay

Part of my job involves meetings and seminars, especially that we are now in job interview season. So I might be taking dual notes, one set to keep me focused and a second running set of ideas for a story.

I also write in the car. There wasn't much traffic in most of New Mexico when I did that, but I had to give it up in Alaska. Not enough of a shoulder and it was bumpy enough to render my journal unreadable. These days I'm more likely to pull off the road and write a note, but I have set off the horn more than once. Guilty, guilty, guilty.

QOTW: Writing on the sly

Debbie writes: Have you ever found yourself furtively jotting down an idea or phrase when you were supposedly doing something else?
Ruth answers: Often. I can't help it; I've been doing it since I was a kid. Today there's even more reason because my Ellie McDoodle books are full of games, jokes, pranks, trivia and require a lot of research. I keep my writer ears on all the time, and if I hear or think of something that turns into something that might someday be useful, I write it down fast.
And even if it won't be useful in an Ellie book, maybe it'll become part of another story.
I keep a notebook on the car seat next to me and can write without looking, thanks to frequent practice writing in the dark, in bed. (Note to April: Try Post-It notes on the steering wheel. No need to hold them in place while you scribble at traffic lights ;)
The most egregious intrusion of my writer self into my personal life is when I'm tucking my kid into bed. As soon as I kiss her goodnight the last time for the night, I run to collect all the gold I've just mined and stash it in a notebook.

How to Drive & Write by April

Furtive Writing

I'm the Queen of Post-Its, but also of napkin-writing and hand-writing and up-my-arm writing; whatever is available, really, and whenever -and wherever- I can. This includes while I'm driving. Yes, that's my dirty little secret (and now yours, too). I grab paper from my purse, from a tiny notebook which has been used by my children, whose squiggles I must write around, or yank a napkin from the passenger side glove compartment --the reach itself is pretty treacherous, but what I do next may make the weaker-hearted of you not wish to read on.
While handling the driver's wheel with my knees, I pinion the paper to the horn with one hand, hold a pen cap in my teeth, and jot down notes, dividing my "eye time" equally between paper and that yellow line. All while hurtling down the road in a thousand pounds of metal.

And yes, I've accidentally honked the horn during particular moments of eureka euphoria.

Coming to you from Under The Teacher's Desk

By Lori

Probably the most guilty pleasure of my job as a substitute teacher is snatching a moment to jot notes during the school day. This is not so easy to do, unless the kids happen to go to gym or music. But, occasionally, I do it when the students are still in the room because I'm afraid I will forget. It seems a little naughty, but I do have justification.

One of the reasons I sub is because schools are a veritable story minefield. I'm a kid in a candy store (an author in a story store?), and I'm only a sub, which means I have time to allow the seeds to plant themselves in my brain. Instead of going home to grade papers, plan tomorrow's lessons, take parent phone calls, do parent teacher conferences, have curriculum meetings. . . .and on and on and on, I can go home and write away.

"What are you doing Mrs. Van Hoesen?" A student said, catching me in the act one day not long ago. He was done with his work and came to look over my shoulder. I wasn't grading papers, that much was clear to him.

"Um, well, just writing down some ideas."

"For what?"

"Stories. :o)"

"OH! Mrs. Van Hoesen is writing more stories!" he announced to the class. "Maybe if we're good she'll tell us one."

And so, really, even though I sometimes feel a little sneaky, it all comes full circle in the end.