Heard and seen in Illinois

Last weekend I was in Springfield Illinois for the Illinois Reading Association Conference and was fortunate to be in the audience when Eric Rohmann gave his acceptance speech for the Prairie State Award for Excellence in Writing for Children.  He spoke with warmth and grace:

"The imagination doesn't require much: a sudden light under a dark doorway, a line of smoke on the horizon, a nudge down a snowy hill...[as a child] I [once] sat on the grassy slope of my front lawn looking out at the house across the street. Suddenly, a black cat ran behind the house and a moment later, from the other side, a crow flew squawking into the sky. I knew better, but to my young mind the running cat, through some enchantment, had become the flying crow.

Children only need a place to start."

What a lovely picture--a cat becoming a crow! For great photos of the Prairie State Award Banquet check out Sharron McElmeel's blog.


I had gone to Springfield with Sharron McElmeel, Michelle Edwards, and Dori Butler.  We gave two panel presentations--one on how we each do our research. Dori actually took a citizens' police course to learn about police procedures for her mystery novels. Michelle has interviewed school kids to help herself understand what it really feels like to be the new kid at school, and she once asked her own kids to scout out some authentic names. I talked about the importance of going to the places where our stories happen, and Sharron pointed out to us all that there are many kids of research. We met some very dedicated Illinois teachers, whom I am glad to know. And we had a wonderful time chatting with Candy Fleming, who was also at the conference.

We also decided to be tourists in Springfield for a while.  There is nothing like "place" to bring a person to life. Standing in the old Illinois capitol and thinking that this is where Lincoln argued cases on a regular basis was awe-inspiring. Or walking up the steep staircase at the Lincoln home and knowing that he too walked up this staircase. The whole experience seemed to fit right in with thinking about the importance of going to the place where our stories take place. Just being there made me want to write one more story about Abraham Lincoln.

"old" Illinois Supreme Court Chamber where Lincoln argued cases

Exploring the spaces of our lives

It’s one of those days, one of those lovely fall days, today. When Rich and I were out at the Pal this morning I was reminded of E.B. White’s response to someone who asked what the message was in Charlotte’s Web.  He said, “All I wanted to say, all I ever want to say is that I love the world.” It’s one of those days. 

And that reminds me of something I read in yesterday’s edition of Writers' Almanac. Yesterday was Harvey Pekar’s birthday. Harvey Pekar wrote a comic strip about his life. This is how Writers' Almanac described his work:

“Pekar wrote about nearly every important aspect of his life: his job, his friends, meeting his wife, marrying her, their struggles as a couple, buying their first house, and going through his cancer treatment. His work inspired a whole generation of artists to write autobiographical and realist comic books. An anthology of his work was published last year as American Splendor: The Life and Times of Harvey Pekar. When asked why he wanted to turn his life into a comic book, Harvey Pekar said, ‘I wanted to write literature that pushed people into their lives rather than helping people escape from them.’"

“I wanted to write literature that pushed people into their lives rather than helping people escape from them.”  I love that and can’t help but wonder how it relates to writing for kids.  Escape is good sometimes. Sometimes we do just need to swing on the birches of a good story. And we should have stories that take kids out of their lives. But perhaps sometimes also we—and our readers— need to just explore the spaces of our own lives, find out what is there, tend what is to be tended.  How do we write those books?  Are there books that push kids into their lives?

Jan Blazanin and Sharron McElmeel chat during a break

Jan and part of the rapt audience

Writing better books for kids was the topic last Saturday in Iowa City as Jan Blazanin gave a generous, detailed, and thought-provoking presentation on plotting.  For example, here’s what Jan recommends for the first five pages of a novel:

•   Presents a clear point of view
•   Identifies the protagonist, including traits that set him/her apart                   
•  Grounds the reader in time and space
•   Set’s the story’s tone
•    Introduces the catalyst

As a person who’s never written a novel, I want to learn to use these rules. And maybe even eventually learn to break them.

Aside from all the information about plotting, it was wonderful to be in a room with other people, all of whom want to become better writers for children, to discover that we do have a community of writers here in eastern Iowa, a community that we can tend so that we all become better writers. Thanks to Wendy Henrichs for organizing this wonderful morning.

And speaking of community, tomorrow I go to Maine to spend some days with my family, plant daffodil bulbs with Laura and Audrey, see my mother, my brother David, and heart-sister Liz. And on Saturday join a writer community that has been gathering every fall for sixteen years to write, share writing, concerns about writing, publishing, and explore the spaces of our lives.  I’m half-packed and totally excited.

Frankenboy--a boy with heart

Last fall I visited Johnson Elementary School in Cedar Rapids to talk with some students about their experiences of bullying and do some writing about those experiences.  We planned to send the writing to composer Rob Nassif who had been commissioned to write an opera about bullying.

Well he's done it. And a couple of weeks ago the Cedar Rapids Opera Company sponsored a night of Rob talking about his composition. Rob said he aimed for a piece that would speak to both adults and children, that would have a little edge to it--the kind of "edge" that appeals to elementary and middle-schoolers, that would hold the attention of an "audience of about 500 kids sitting on a hard gym floor in broad daylight." So he invented "Frankenboy," which he says is "fun, scary, a little creepy."  Rob sang a couple of songs from the work. One of my favorite lines comes when Frankenboy's father is putting him together: "The most important part/ is a sweetheart of a heart." The songs we heard were wonderful.

Sharron McElmeel, librarian, educator, scheduler, events-coordinator, who loves and lives books, also heard Rob Nassif's presentation. Check out her take on the evening. Whatever we might say about it, we were in total agreement that the Cedar Rapids Opera Company, with their sponsoring of my day at Johnson School, commissioning Rob to write this opera, had started something, something big that would find its way into the lives of many students.

If I could, I would give each student who attends "Frankenboy" a copy of a new book I just found at the Iowa City Public Library. It's written by Michaela Muntean and is called Stay (Scholastic, 2012). It's the true story of Luciano Anastasini, a circus acrobat who took a bad fall and could no longer do his act. But he could imagine no other life. He decided to come up with a dog act. But he did not buy pedigreed dogs. He went to the dog shelter and found five dogs--a thief, a dog who ran into furniture and walls, a food-scrounger,"a schnauzer with a bad attitude," and a dog who dug holes. He decided he would not teach them to do unnatural things but learn what they loved to do and build his act on what they already loved. "As the dogs ran and played together, Luciano paid special attention to each of them." ...  His act became a huge success.

What more could any of us want than, as we run and play, someone who will pay special attention to us?  This is a wonderful book (with a heart-warming forward by Kate DiCamillo) that reminds us of the other side of the coin of bullying, the antidote to bullying. If only we could all be paid in special attention...

Good inuksuit

In the last post I mentioned going to the AASL in Minneapolis. Sharron McElmeel , Jeni Reeves, Carol Gorman and I spoke on how to foster curiosity in young readers and how librarians can become an important part of the collaborative process with teachers in helping students to become better readers.

Our session had a good audience. We saw some long-time friends, including Toni Buzzeo, shown here with Sharron (Sharron on the left, Toni on the right).Toni was at the AASL speaking on a topic similar to ours--how librarians can become visible and essential collaborators in their schools. We know they are essential, but we are the choir. We-writers and readers--want school boards, parents, community people to realize that excellent schools, even just good schools, require trained librarians.

I also had a chance to spend some time with Phyllis Root, which is always a treat. Phyllis and her daughter Ellen have recently built this inuksuit, a trail marker like the ones built by Alaskan natives to mark the way. Rocks were what they had to build with and what they used.

Every writer needs to run into an inuksuit once in a while. Wandering is good. We find what we didn't even know we were looking for by wandering. But once in a while it's good to see an inuksuit that reminds us that we are on the path, a path.


Seeing friends, spending time talking about shared writing problems, seeing librarians talking about shared purpose-good inuksuit.