From the New England Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators.

Hello from the New England SCBWI conference in Springfield, Mass.

I love when ideas swirl in the atmosphere and effervesce in one place and then another.

Yesterday, I led a workshop on voice in nonfiction and was delighted to see so many faces in the audience. I had them create an Image System (basically a vocabulary list of words pertaining to a specific theme or subject), and suggested that they practice my daily Haiku writing exercise to strengthen descriptive muscles. Today, Sharon Creech talked about poetry and how disparate ideas connect to create something new. Her novel in verse, I Love Dogs, features Alfred Lord Tennyson's poem, The Eagle. Then I went to Leslie Bulion's (http://www.lesliebulion.com) workshop on poetic form and she featured The Eagle. I suppose it's not mind bending considering I am at a writer's conference, but I've been exploring poetry recently -- even participating in the Oak Orchard Review Poetry Open Mic Night to celebrate April as Poetry Month, so it is reaffirming my search for the creative right-brained stories that lurk inside of me.

Last year, at this very conference, I was told by an agent that I needed to loosen up  -- to turn left when I wanted to turn right. So today, I look back at that cross roads with a sigh and look forward to the right, to the stories that need to be told.

Today's Haiku --

One syllable short
One glass of wine too many
Where's my cup of tea?

Albany Children's Book Festival

This Saturday, I had a lovely time at the Albany Children’s Book Festival at the Albany Girl's Academy.  I shared a table with Jana Laiz, author of Elephants of the Tsunami, a true story about elephants who saved many people who otherwise would have been washed away; and “A 

Free Woman on God’s Earth,” the inspiring story of  Elizabeth “Mumbet” Freeman who sued for her freedom in a Massachusetts court of law. We swapped stories of Thailand and elephants, in between signing books.

The crowd wasn't as large as it could have been. The 70 degree weather enticed many folks to garden -- which is what I would have been doing -- shoot hoops, play T-ball, or a hundred other things we've been buggy to do since the snow melted. But that gave me time to roam around and meet other writers. I was amazed at how many nonfiction books were there. Maybe it was a conscious decision by the festival board, or maybe nonfiction writers are just braver to step out into the spotlight. I know that several years ago I was usually one of three or four nonfiction writers at a book festival, but this weekend it seemed like every other table celebrated a NF title.

I met Matt Faulkner, author/illustrator of A Taste of Colored Water. Although not a NF book, Matt has illustrated some award winners like You’re on Your Way, Teddy Roosevelt by Judith St. George. But I love A Taste of Colored Water because it looks at the Civil Rights movement from the POV of two innocent, rural white kids who come to town to see this magical rainbow bubbler they've heard about, only to be confronted with the reality of intolerance. It makes you think, which in this day and age we need to do.

I also met author/illustrator Lindsay Barrett George, who created In the Woods: Who’s Been Here?, a book that my kids loved when they were younger. I purchased In the Garden: Who’s Been Here? for two more curious kids, Ryder and River.

Across from my table was a writer I have always wanted to meet because she wrote one of my favorite books called Manfish about Jacques Cousteau. I use Jennifer Berne’s book when I talk about voice in nonfiction because she wrote it with the same breathy lyrical voice of Cousteau himself. When you read it out loud you unwittingly take on a French accent. Jennifer’s newest book, hot off the press, is On a Beam of Light about Albert Einstein, and it, too, is written in that same clean, spare, narrative that I aspire to.

By four o’clock I had sold more books than I bought, so, all in all, a good day.

Talking Trade Books In Science

Spent the weekend at the National Science Teachers Conference, and talked with a room full (or not so full) of science teachers and those interested in using trade books in their science classrooms.  The session wasn’t as packed as it should have been, but the discussion was no less rigorous.  I met teachers from Missouri, Vermont, Wyoming, and other states who all struggle against time constraints, testing standards, and changing curriculum in their efforts to teach science as it should be taught – as an exciting exploration to satisfy curiosity about the world around us. 

Catherine Thimmesh (author of Team Moon) wondered why students “check out” when a lesson or activity is labeled science. It didn’t make sense to any of us in the room – teachers or writers – who think that science in all its forms is cool.  Most kids start out being curious, natural scientists. Something along the way turns them off.  What can we do?

I’ve heard that kids don’t go into the sciences because they believe that it is hard.  Where does that idea come from? Yes, science can be difficult, but it is also one of the few places where being wrong can be just as important as being right.  Elizabeth Rusch (author of Mighty Mars Rover) noted that we need to model that it is okay not to understand something.  Our school system promotes right and wrong answers, facts for every subject. Sarah Campbell (author of Growing Patterns)  contends that if kids are taught how to think – analyze, compare, etc. -- science is just like everything else. “If you can do that, you can do science.” 

I think Sallie Wolf (author of The Robin Makes a Laughing Sound) hit the nail on the head when she said, “We don’t have time in our education system to let kids stay in that place of not understanding.” There is always a test in two weeks, another unit to move on to. Kids also aren’t taught to trust their observations.

When a group of 5^th graders created a bird field guide, they had to ask, “How can we make a boring Missouri bird sound cool” (They had just read about penguins and thought they were cool.)  That’s what NF writers ask every day. What other questions do we ask?  How do you make something complex simple?  What’s important to kids?  If you don’t understand, how do you find out – what questions do you ask?  What are your assumptions? How do you know what you think you know?

If we want kids to ask questions, we can’t be afraid to not know the answer. Teachers, writers and everyone need to admit, “I don’t know, but let’s find out.”  And we writers can acknowledge how much we don’t know when we start a project, how that it’s exciting to us, and how we go about getting the information we need. If we are honest with kids about not knowing, perhaps they will be more comfortable with that part of learning and science won’t seem so hard. 

Walking in Their Footsteps

The best way to capture the past is to step back into it -- visiting the places you are writing about. Last week Fran and I toured Monticello, the mountaintop home of Thomas Jefferson.  There is no better way to get into a person's head than to walk the red Piedmont soil and marvel at the blue rolling hills off in the distance. Now I know why he called it his "sea view."

But stepping back in time also takes a healthy dose of imagination, too. Mulberry row, where slaves lived and worked, is empty now. I have to imagine the lane busy with boys making nails, and the air  thick with smoke from the forge and the cook house. Instead of the two white women driving a four-wheeler from tree to tree in the orchard, I have to envision perhaps two black men carrying a ladder and saws to trim the branches.

The past is not black and white, either. Old photos make everyone look somber and give the impression that history was fuzzy and dull. But people wore shades of red and blue, laughed and danced.  One of the more startling things I noticed at Monticello was the neon yellow dining room. Not what I would have expected had I not known how much he appreciated light and air.

Hustled through the house with other tourists it was hard to really see everything, but then again, it gave me a more accurate portrayal of a house filled with children, servants, and family.  And when I return, I can dig deeper, look closer, and reveal even more.

Writing is Glorious

Saturday night I saw Glorious! a hilarious play by Peter Quilter at the O'Connell & Company theater. Based on a true story, Glorious! is the life of Florence Foster Jenkins the worst singer in the world (check her out on Youtube). Florence, born in 1868, was the tone deaf daughter of a wealthy banker who forbade her from taking music lessons. She so loved opera that she eloped just to get away from her domineering father. Many years later she inherited her parents fortune and began a singing career. Still tone deaf and rhythmically challenged Florence performed her first recital at the age of 44.

Of course the play features her most bizarre quirks like she interviewed anyone who wanted to purchase a ticket, and created her own costumes favoring wings, tinsel and tiaras. After a taxi crash Florence discovered that she could hit higher notes, and sent the cab driver a box of Cuban cigars to thank him for increasing her range.

Although ridiculed with bad reviews and called 'First Lady of the Sliding Scale,' she had a cult following that included Cole Porter, Talula Bankhead, and Enrico Caruso.

Her peak came in 1944, when at age 76, the Diva of Din played Carnegie Hall - to a standing room only crowd.  Some in the audience jeered, some laughed, but most admired her remarkable zest for life, her courage, and her singular passion for music.

At one point in the play, Florence, played by actress Mary Kate O'Connell (who portrayed Florence's joy and jarring arias brilliantly) said,  "People may say I can't sing. But no one can ever say I didn't sing."

And that line, which might have been her mantra, reminded me how important it is to be unwavering in the pursuit of one's passions. As a writer you are constantly getting knocked down with written rejections -- and if you're like me, you actually keep them so they continue to taunt you every time you open up a file drawer!  It is easy for your passion to waver each time you're faced with the choice to sleep in or get up and write (will anyone care?), or when you start a new story (is it worth the effort?), read aloud in a critique group (will they like it?), type up a cover letter (it is right?), stuff a manuscript in an envelop or attach it to an email (is it ready?).

Be courageous and take a cue from Florence. Be selective of your audience. Don't send a manuscript to just any editor. Check out their blogs and interviews online, read the books they've published. Find out what they like, what they want, so you'll have fewer boos and more bravos.

Dress up your prose -- not with tinsel and tiaras, but with the best writing you can create-- vigorous verbs, dynamic details, and kick ass characters.

And when someone helps you raise your game with a bit of advice, a research lead, or a personal editorial note, show your appreciation. Build your fan base. Start now to fill Carnegie Hall.

Despite all the obstacles that stand in your way (most of which are in your head), make sure that when the literary-equivalent-of-the-fat-lady sings, no one can say you didn't write.

Farmer George in the Classroom

I may be behind the times, but I have added lesson ideas for Farmer George Plants a Nation to my website just in time for President's Day.

I am not a teacher, so I'm not fluent in lesson-plan-ease, but I do love to think up ways to use Farmer George as a jumping off point for teaching about seeds and soil, or discussing how agriculture was such an important element in creating a free nation. In this confusing time of Common Core and changing standards I hope it helps to have an author's perspective on where the information came from, how they write, and how their work fits into the larger picture.  I think Farmer George can be used in social studies or science class, and I'm hoping that any teacher who uses Farmer George will let me know what they did and how it went.

Please add your voice to the discussion of how nonfiction books can be used in the classroom.

I'll be adding lesson plans for For The Birds next.

Hooray For Clichés!

Not too long ago I was sitting in the audience listening to a distinguished writer talk about her craft when she segued into “What Not to Do!”  Then I saw her pick up one of my books.

My mind filled with a numbing buzz like anesthesia for surgery where your soul will be yanked out through your left eyeball. I can’t remember what don’t’s she referred to, but all the while she held my book. Then she opened it and said, “Unless you do it this way.” Ah, a reprieve. Or a backhanded compliment?  I still couldn’t focus. The horror of being so close to the Don’t list left my brain limp.

You have to know the rules, before you can break them. That’s what writers say. And maybe I fall into that category, or at least cling to the outside rim, because I’ve noticed that I’ve done it again.  Another common piece of advice is to avoid clichés.  And yet, one of the literary devices that I employed in For the Birds: the life of Roger Tory Peterson, included several clichés –

            He had eagle eyes.

            Like an owl he worked at night …

           He rose with the Robins

           It was time to make a nest of his own

           Determined as a woodpecker after a bug

I did add a few of my own:  

           He looked as thin and gawky as a fledgling egret

           As focused as a heron after a fish, he perched on the edge of his seat.

But I had a reason. I wanted to create the image of Roger as a Bird, so the reader understood how strongly Roger loved and responded to them. Using phrases like, “he roosted with …” and  “he migrated…” helped to reinforce this.

The use of common phrases and images can serve a purpose if you use them consciously and don’t overdo it.  Seven comparisons sprinkled throughout a 48 page book with 3,000 words seemed to do the trick. 

Will I break more rules in the future?  I’m sure someone will point it out to me.