Last year I had to throw out boxes of old comics. They had been stored in our basement, and after a series of storms that brought more water on our property than ever recorded in living memory, they were ruined—mold had set into the pages.
I had to get rid of all of the original 80s Animal Man series, volumes of Love & Rockets from the same period, X-men, and so many more. I saved a few, despite their distinctively musty smell, but most went into contractor-strength garbage bags.I choked back tears. It felt as though I was burying friends.
I am a lifelong collector of comic books. I began as a kid, reading my brother’s 12¢ issue of Hot Stuff. My siblings, my cousins, and our friends joined in the habit. As an adult, I introduced my spouse-to-be and then my children to comic books—we have all read Sandman from the original prints, and still vie to be first when the latest Fables makes it home from the comics shop.
Fortunately, most of our family stash is not kept in a dank basement, but under beds and on shelves in a dry cabin in the woods up in Quebec. On rainy days, and on a fair number of sunny ones, too, generations of children will spend hours reading well-worn issues, sorting series, laughing at Betty and Jughead, debating Batman versus Superman, and generally living in a happy world of imagination.
Yesterday, beloved was helping the advisor for her school’s comics club sort through a box of donated comics.“Phew,” he said with mild disgust. “Nothing like the smell of old comics.”
She objected. “I like the scent of old comics.” She paused. “Trees and comics. That’s what I’ve smelled each summer of my childhood.”
She made me proud. In her honor, I plan on digging up that dog-eared, somewhat torn, and much beloved 12¢ issue of Hot Stuff. It’ll be visiting an old friend. An old, old friend. They’re good to have around.
My friend calls it clapping season. It starts in late April and usually ends around mid-June. It began in earnest for me last week when I attended a ceremony honoring two retiring colleagues from a previous career. It continued yesterday at the Tassy Walden Awards, tonight at a student concert, this weekend at a wedding, next week at an awards convocation, the week after at a breakfast celebration, then two more weddings, and friends’ graduation.
We cheer. We smile. We take pictures. We clap.
Despite the fact that we do it again and again, each occasion is special. So, for awhile, I put aside cynicism and heartily join in the applause. There is something nice about celebrating people’s accomplishments. Yet, a small voice inside of me whispers: wouldn't it be nice if we could spread it around the year?
We cheer. We smile. We take pictures. We clap.
Despite the fact that we do it again and again, each occasion is special. So, for awhile, I put aside cynicism and heartily join in the applause. There is something nice about celebrating people’s accomplishments. Yet, a small voice inside of me whispers: wouldn't it be nice if we could spread it around the year?
Congratulations to the winners, honorable mentions and finalists of this year's Tassy Walden Awards: New Voices in Children's Literature! Presented by the Shoreline Arts Alliance, the awards honor talented unpublished writers and illustrators of picture books, middle grade novels and YA novels. The awards ceremony will be tomorrow, May 16, at 7 p.m. at the Blackstone Library in Branford, Connecticut. Come join the celebration!
I have had a very busy month. Just in the last ten days I appeared at the Albany Children’s Book Festival, was interviewed by Jan Doyle as part of her Classroom Connections series, was a guest speaker for Lyme Consolidated School, and signed books at the Hudson Children’s Book Festival. I had a great time at each of these events—folks were warm and welcoming, and I met so many wonderful people!
But couple all those speaking engagements with a mild cold and allergies and my voice disappeared completely by the end of the day on Saturday.
I’ve been nursing my vocal chords back slowly with the aid of lozenges, lots of warm tea, and mostly by staying quiet. My favorite remedy, however, came from my mother. She instructed me to treat it “with a mixture of honey, lemon and brandy. Be sure to gargle a bit before swallowing the brew.” And if you add hot water, you’ve got yourself a hot toddy—good for coughs, too.
I knew there was a silver lining.
But couple all those speaking engagements with a mild cold and allergies and my voice disappeared completely by the end of the day on Saturday.
I’ve been nursing my vocal chords back slowly with the aid of lozenges, lots of warm tea, and mostly by staying quiet. My favorite remedy, however, came from my mother. She instructed me to treat it “with a mixture of honey, lemon and brandy. Be sure to gargle a bit before swallowing the brew.” And if you add hot water, you’ve got yourself a hot toddy—good for coughs, too.
I knew there was a silver lining.
I had the great pleasure of spending this morning at Lyme Consolidated School as a guest speaker for their Young Author’s Day. I got to meet all the students there, from kindergarten through 5th grade. I told stories, read a few, and told them what it was like to be an author of children’s books.
The students were wonderful! In turns insightful, curious, and attentive, they asked terrific questions, and were very patient with me as my voice croaked and squeaked (leftovers from a cold and allergies). I had really good time!
I want to particularly thank Pricipal Jim Cavalieri and Media Specialist Shanon Pimentel for making me feel so welcome, and all the teachers who helped and asked questions, too. What a great school!
The students were wonderful! In turns insightful, curious, and attentive, they asked terrific questions, and were very patient with me as my voice croaked and squeaked (leftovers from a cold and allergies). I had really good time!
I want to particularly thank Pricipal Jim Cavalieri and Media Specialist Shanon Pimentel for making me feel so welcome, and all the teachers who helped and asked questions, too. What a great school!
This Saturday April 28, I'll be signing books at the Albany Children's Book Festival at the Albany Academies in, yes, Albany, New York. If you'll be in the area, stop by and say hello!
“How do I get published?”
I am asked this so often that I have a dedicated webpage with resources to answer the question.
The response I really want to give, though, is, “Become a writer.”
But that’s not what the person wants to hear. By the time someone has approached me to ask how to get published, they assume that they are a writer. After all, they can string together coherent sentences into cogent stories and essays, they have received praise for their talent, and they have an Original Idea®. The only thing they need is a magic bullet to publication.
Well. I can build a bookcase using an IKEA kit. I can glue and screw it together. I can go further and sand it, paint it, decorate it, even repurpose it into something other than a bland bookcase. But I am not a carpenter.
Writing is a craft, as much a craft as carpentry. In writing, as in carpentry, you have to understand how things are put together to be able to build something new.
In school we are taught creative writing: teachers introduce us to basic grammar, character development, settings, story arcs and resolutions, all very nicely graphed out. Then we are taught essay writing. We are told the importance of introductions and conclusions, topic sentences and persuasive arguments. A format is drilled into us which will prove useful in high school and college. This does not make us writers.
The writing structures taught in school are like bookcase kits from IKEA: they give a structure to create functional prose. Now functional prose is a useful and necessary skill in a literate society, but if you want to become a professional writer, you need to do more. You must master a story and present it so that readers will want to sink into it and spend time with it.
You don’t have to throw out all the structures you learned in school (although you might decide to), rather you need to learn how to adapt, how to figure out what works and what doesn’t, how to manipulate language so that the ideas are as compelling as possible, how to put things together from scratch. There is no shortcut for this, nor magic: you have to practice.
Writing is a craft. A writer, like a carpenter, learns by doing, and the more a writer writes, the more adept the writer becomes. Just as a master carpenter will use her skills, honed over years, to build a house that is solid, comfortable and beautiful, a writer will master language to build stories that people want to read to the very end.
John McPhee says, “Writing teaches writing.” Jane Yolen says, “Butt in chair.” Paul Auster says, “That’s about as exciting a life as it is for a writer: You write sentences, and you cross out sentences.”
How did I get published? I wrote. A lot.
I am asked this so often that I have a dedicated webpage with resources to answer the question.
The response I really want to give, though, is, “Become a writer.”
But that’s not what the person wants to hear. By the time someone has approached me to ask how to get published, they assume that they are a writer. After all, they can string together coherent sentences into cogent stories and essays, they have received praise for their talent, and they have an Original Idea®. The only thing they need is a magic bullet to publication.
Well. I can build a bookcase using an IKEA kit. I can glue and screw it together. I can go further and sand it, paint it, decorate it, even repurpose it into something other than a bland bookcase. But I am not a carpenter.
Writing is a craft, as much a craft as carpentry. In writing, as in carpentry, you have to understand how things are put together to be able to build something new.
In school we are taught creative writing: teachers introduce us to basic grammar, character development, settings, story arcs and resolutions, all very nicely graphed out. Then we are taught essay writing. We are told the importance of introductions and conclusions, topic sentences and persuasive arguments. A format is drilled into us which will prove useful in high school and college. This does not make us writers.
The writing structures taught in school are like bookcase kits from IKEA: they give a structure to create functional prose. Now functional prose is a useful and necessary skill in a literate society, but if you want to become a professional writer, you need to do more. You must master a story and present it so that readers will want to sink into it and spend time with it.
You don’t have to throw out all the structures you learned in school (although you might decide to), rather you need to learn how to adapt, how to figure out what works and what doesn’t, how to manipulate language so that the ideas are as compelling as possible, how to put things together from scratch. There is no shortcut for this, nor magic: you have to practice.
Writing is a craft. A writer, like a carpenter, learns by doing, and the more a writer writes, the more adept the writer becomes. Just as a master carpenter will use her skills, honed over years, to build a house that is solid, comfortable and beautiful, a writer will master language to build stories that people want to read to the very end.
John McPhee says, “Writing teaches writing.” Jane Yolen says, “Butt in chair.” Paul Auster says, “That’s about as exciting a life as it is for a writer: You write sentences, and you cross out sentences.”
How did I get published? I wrote. A lot.
This next month will be a busy one for me. Here's a list of some of the places I'll be:
Wednesday, April 18 at 1 p.m., I'll be appearing at the Barnes & Noble in North Haven, Connecticut with Amanda Marrone, for a talk and book signing.
Friday and Saturday, April 20 and 21, I'll be attending A Celebration of the Picture Book conference at the Whitney Humanities Center at Yale University in New Haven, Connecticut. Rosemary Wells will be one of the keynote speakers, and my friend, the author/illustrator Deborah Freedman will be presenting at one of the panels, along with many other talented folks.
Saturday, April 28 from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m., I'll be at the Albany Children's Book Festival in Albany, New York, signing books and schmoozing with over 70 children's books authors and illustrators.
Saturday, May 5 from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m., I'll be at the Hudson Children's Book Festival in Hudson, New York, signing and schmoozing with over 85 children's books authors and illustrators.
If you are at any of these events, come by and say hello!
Wednesday, April 18 at 1 p.m., I'll be appearing at the Barnes & Noble in North Haven, Connecticut with Amanda Marrone, for a talk and book signing.
Friday and Saturday, April 20 and 21, I'll be attending A Celebration of the Picture Book conference at the Whitney Humanities Center at Yale University in New Haven, Connecticut. Rosemary Wells will be one of the keynote speakers, and my friend, the author/illustrator Deborah Freedman will be presenting at one of the panels, along with many other talented folks.
Saturday, April 28 from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m., I'll be at the Albany Children's Book Festival in Albany, New York, signing books and schmoozing with over 70 children's books authors and illustrators.
Saturday, May 5 from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m., I'll be at the Hudson Children's Book Festival in Hudson, New York, signing and schmoozing with over 85 children's books authors and illustrators.
If you are at any of these events, come by and say hello!
For Jews around the world, this is the week we eat matzo—imagine a large saltine, without salt, and even less flavor. Some will quibble with this description.
I know a matzo aficionado who stockpiles her favorite brands just before Passover, and eats it year round. She’ll explain that the whole wheat version can be flavorful; egg matzo is useful for desserts, since it's softer; but the crisp, ultra-thin brand from Britain is the best.
But, please. What does it tell you that a box purchased in the Spring will taste the same a year later?
I dutifully buy my 5-box case every Passover. During the Seder, we eat it with charoset* and horseradish, and plain. For the first day or two, we’ll enjoy a piece with fresh butter and salt, and maybe for another day or so, we’ll eat matzo brei or a cheese melt for a satisfying lunch. We go through the first three boxes quickly, and I start worrying: will we have enough for the rest of the week?
No fear. By day four, no one asks for matzo brei. At dinner, the box will stand, untouched on the table, as potatoes have become the favored side-dish. For the Sephardim in my family (or those who adopt Sephardic customs for the holiday), rice will take center stage.
By day 8, no one wants matzo, period. A lone box will sit on my shelf, studiously avoided by everyone. What am I supposed to do with it?
I can leave it there, I suppose. It should be good next year, after all.
Matzo brei:
There are several versions of this: sweet or savory; with or without additional ingredients, such as fried onions or mushrooms. Some prefer it omelette-like. This version comes out scrambled, and is fast, easy and tasty. It will serve one person. Double, triple, quadruple, as desired.
1 matzo
1 egg
salt & pepper to taste
1 tsp butter for the pan
Beat egg with salt and pepper in a wide bowl. Run both sides of matzo under cold water so that all of it gets wet. Allow to drip. Crumble it into egg and mix so that the matzo is thoroughly coated by the egg.
Heat pan over medium-low heat. Melt butter. Add egg & matzo mixture. Allow it to cook for 1 minute before you begin stirring. Keep stirring, scraping the bottom, until all the egg is just cooked through. Serve immediately.
* Charoset is a mixture of nuts, fruits, wine and honey that is served as part of the Seder. There are as many recipes for it as there are countries in which Jews have settled.
I know a matzo aficionado who stockpiles her favorite brands just before Passover, and eats it year round. She’ll explain that the whole wheat version can be flavorful; egg matzo is useful for desserts, since it's softer; but the crisp, ultra-thin brand from Britain is the best.
But, please. What does it tell you that a box purchased in the Spring will taste the same a year later?
I dutifully buy my 5-box case every Passover. During the Seder, we eat it with charoset* and horseradish, and plain. For the first day or two, we’ll enjoy a piece with fresh butter and salt, and maybe for another day or so, we’ll eat matzo brei or a cheese melt for a satisfying lunch. We go through the first three boxes quickly, and I start worrying: will we have enough for the rest of the week?
No fear. By day four, no one asks for matzo brei. At dinner, the box will stand, untouched on the table, as potatoes have become the favored side-dish. For the Sephardim in my family (or those who adopt Sephardic customs for the holiday), rice will take center stage.
By day 8, no one wants matzo, period. A lone box will sit on my shelf, studiously avoided by everyone. What am I supposed to do with it?
I can leave it there, I suppose. It should be good next year, after all.
Matzo brei:
There are several versions of this: sweet or savory; with or without additional ingredients, such as fried onions or mushrooms. Some prefer it omelette-like. This version comes out scrambled, and is fast, easy and tasty. It will serve one person. Double, triple, quadruple, as desired.
1 matzo
1 egg
salt & pepper to taste
1 tsp butter for the pan
Beat egg with salt and pepper in a wide bowl. Run both sides of matzo under cold water so that all of it gets wet. Allow to drip. Crumble it into egg and mix so that the matzo is thoroughly coated by the egg.
Heat pan over medium-low heat. Melt butter. Add egg & matzo mixture. Allow it to cook for 1 minute before you begin stirring. Keep stirring, scraping the bottom, until all the egg is just cooked through. Serve immediately.
* Charoset is a mixture of nuts, fruits, wine and honey that is served as part of the Seder. There are as many recipes for it as there are countries in which Jews have settled.
I will be giving a talk and signing books on Wednesday April 18 at 1 p.m. at the Barnes and Noble in North Haven, Connecticut, along with author Amanda Marrone. We'll be talking about how we combine realism with the supernatural to create fiction. It's part of Educator Appreciation Week when K-12 educators using an Educator Discount Card will get a 25% discount on books, toys, games and classroom materials, and a 10% discount on movies and music. Educators can enter a raffle for a chance to win a NOOK Tablet or $500 gift card.
The line up for the other Author Days is also quite impressive. On Tuesday April 17, author/illustrators Deborah Freedman and Nancy Elizabeth Wallace are scheduled to appear, and on Thursday April 19, authors Leslie Bulion and Leslie Connor.
Stop by and say hello!
The line up for the other Author Days is also quite impressive. On Tuesday April 17, author/illustrators Deborah Freedman and Nancy Elizabeth Wallace are scheduled to appear, and on Thursday April 19, authors Leslie Bulion and Leslie Connor.
Stop by and say hello!
Here's what you need to know about Amy.
Twenty eight years ago, when rumor went around that Woody Allen planned to show up for a screening of his new movie, Broadway Danny Rose, she asked me to go with her.
"Sure," I said.
She turned to her boyfriend's roommate. "How about you?"
He said, "Sure."
And then she told us, "Oops. I forgot. I'm supposed to be somewhere tonight. Why don't you go without me?"
Lying is not Amy's strong suit. Neither of us believed her, but we knew she meant well. So, standing there awkwardly, I asked, "Uh. You want to go?"
He seemed equally awkward. "Sure," he replied.
I know I've had more disastrous dates, but this one was memorable. It was a cold February night, the rumor was false, and we searched for the screening site, going from one university building to another, in vain. We finally decided on an arts flick, Born in Flames. Let's just say that a feminist movie about the lives of prostitutes isn't exactly conducive to romance. He did get points though for not making fun of it afterwards, and we warmed up over ice cream. Somehow our sense of humor meshed, and we agreed to see each other again. We have been together, ever since.
"I knew it'd work out," Amy told me.
A lot of things have happened since then. Amy and I worked side by side, for years. We attended each other's weddings. She came to the rescue when I needed help during one of my pregnancies. She stayed with us when her newborn needed to be kept safe from the flu coursing through her house. We've celebrated holidays and marked milestones.
So when No Castles Here was published, Amy told me, "I'm throwing you a party!" And what a party---friends, great food, good cheer. We had such a good time, that when Come Fall came out, she threw me another one. "We do this again for the next one, too," she said. So, on Sunday, we celebrated Gil Marsh: we laughed and schmoozed, ate awesome food and had a grand time, the way good friends know how.
I hugged Amy more than once.
"You've got to publish another book," she said. "These parties are so much fun!"
No arguing with that.
Thank you Amy, Steve, and all those who came. It was a blast!
Twenty eight years ago, when rumor went around that Woody Allen planned to show up for a screening of his new movie, Broadway Danny Rose, she asked me to go with her.
"Sure," I said.
She turned to her boyfriend's roommate. "How about you?"
He said, "Sure."
And then she told us, "Oops. I forgot. I'm supposed to be somewhere tonight. Why don't you go without me?"
Lying is not Amy's strong suit. Neither of us believed her, but we knew she meant well. So, standing there awkwardly, I asked, "Uh. You want to go?"
He seemed equally awkward. "Sure," he replied.
I know I've had more disastrous dates, but this one was memorable. It was a cold February night, the rumor was false, and we searched for the screening site, going from one university building to another, in vain. We finally decided on an arts flick, Born in Flames. Let's just say that a feminist movie about the lives of prostitutes isn't exactly conducive to romance. He did get points though for not making fun of it afterwards, and we warmed up over ice cream. Somehow our sense of humor meshed, and we agreed to see each other again. We have been together, ever since.
"I knew it'd work out," Amy told me.
A lot of things have happened since then. Amy and I worked side by side, for years. We attended each other's weddings. She came to the rescue when I needed help during one of my pregnancies. She stayed with us when her newborn needed to be kept safe from the flu coursing through her house. We've celebrated holidays and marked milestones.
So when No Castles Here was published, Amy told me, "I'm throwing you a party!" And what a party---friends, great food, good cheer. We had such a good time, that when Come Fall came out, she threw me another one. "We do this again for the next one, too," she said. So, on Sunday, we celebrated Gil Marsh: we laughed and schmoozed, ate awesome food and had a grand time, the way good friends know how.
I hugged Amy more than once.
"You've got to publish another book," she said. "These parties are so much fun!"
No arguing with that.
Thank you Amy, Steve, and all those who came. It was a blast!
Kids from the Hudson City Junior and Senior High School created a 32-second video for the Hudson Children's Book Festival.
Not bad. Not bad at all.
Congratulations to those who pulled it together.
P.S. I'll be at the festival, too. On May 5th.
Not bad. Not bad at all.
Congratulations to those who pulled it together.
P.S. I'll be at the festival, too. On May 5th.
Growing up, I was told that I should read many books because it would improve my vocabulary.
I did read a lot, but it wasn’t to improve my vocabulary: I loved stories, and still do. Yet, it is also true that as a result, my vocabulary grew and is now quite large. The problem, I have found, is that though I may know what a whole lot of words mean, and even use those words appropriately in sentences, I have no idea how they are pronounced.
Take perspicacious—a word that is used to great effect in Goliath by Scott Westerfeld. It’s one of these wonderful words with two internal alliterations, one hard and one soft, and all those beautiful vowels. It so enchanted me, I decided I had to make it part of my day-to-day vocabulary.
So, when beloved said something particularly clever I told her, “That’s so pers... perspee... perspick... perspuh...”
Fortunately, she had read the book, too. “Thanks,” she said.
Flustered, I asked, “How do you pronounce the word?”
“Hm. Pares... purse... ”
Long pause.
“Insightful.”
That, too.
I did read a lot, but it wasn’t to improve my vocabulary: I loved stories, and still do. Yet, it is also true that as a result, my vocabulary grew and is now quite large. The problem, I have found, is that though I may know what a whole lot of words mean, and even use those words appropriately in sentences, I have no idea how they are pronounced.
Take perspicacious—a word that is used to great effect in Goliath by Scott Westerfeld. It’s one of these wonderful words with two internal alliterations, one hard and one soft, and all those beautiful vowels. It so enchanted me, I decided I had to make it part of my day-to-day vocabulary.So, when beloved said something particularly clever I told her, “That’s so pers... perspee... perspick... perspuh...”
Fortunately, she had read the book, too. “Thanks,” she said.
Flustered, I asked, “How do you pronounce the word?”
“Hm. Pares... purse... ”
Long pause.
“Insightful.”
That, too.
Last Saturday I had the opportunity to do a fun reading at the Alphabet Garden Bookstore in Cheshire, Connecticut. I read two chapters from Gil Marsh, the crowd had some great questions for me about the book and my writing process, and we all got to eat some tarte au sucre (sugar pie).
Thank you to Karlene Rearick and Renee Geiger of the Alphabet Garden for helping me make the event such a success!
Profile
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=92)
acebauer- acebauer
- acebauer.com
Syndicate
