Announcing my 2019 National Poetry Month ARTSPEAK! theme

Hello and Happy last Poetry Friday of March! Be sure to visit Carol at Carol's Corner for Roundup.

I'm excited today to share about my 2019 National Poetry Month poem-a-day project ARTSPEAK!, now in its 5th year! Each year I dedicate the month of April to writing poems inspired by art. (Which means I'll be pressing "pause" on my Butterfly Hours Memoir Project during this month. I'll pick up in May with the next prompt, which is "gloves.")

The first year (2015) I didn't really have a theme, except ARTSPEAK!, in which my goal was (and continues to be!) to listen to what the art was trying to say... and these were all persona poems. I chose pieces exclusively from the National Gallery of Art online collection, with a particular focus on pieces with kid appeal.

2016 I wrote poems inspired by one of my new (at the time) books: FRESH DELICIOUS: Poems from the Farmers' Market. I called it ARTSPEAK: Plant. Grow. Eat!

2017 I focused on people and animals -- ARTSPEAK: Portraits

2018 I continued my art education -- and added diversity (the NGA collection is woefully not representative of many cultures/ethnicities) -- with ARTSPEAK: Harlem Renaissance

And this year, I am throwing everything I've got into my 2019 One Little Word. I give you.... ARTSPEAK: Happy!

This has its roots in a letter I received from a student. Here's my tweet about it:

Kind of a wake up call, isn't it?

I searched for art not just at NGA, but Google Arts & Culture and also WikiArt. I am loving the pieces I discovered! I hope you will, too. As always, I invite you to join along, if you're feeling artsy. :)

To get the happy juices flowing, I decided to write a poem inspired by the art I selected for my badge... and including some of my goals for this series:

Give Me a Happy Poem

after "The Sky Was Yellow" by Enrico Baj

Give me a happy poem

a burn-away-the-blues poem –

where words sizzle,

stanzas dance.

Make me giggle,

make me gasp!

Show me a world that radiates heat,

ignites hope

even on the darkest

-->

                                night.

- Irene Latham

...and here is a video! Yes, for the first time I am sharing these via video instead of just audio. Eep! I'll be learning and (hopefully) improving all month long. :)

 
 I look forward to all the goodness from all of you... and of course I'm excited to see where our Progressive Poem will lead us! We'll get started on Monday over at Matt's place. Yay!

The Butterfly Hours Memoir Project: GARDEN

For 2019 I'm running a year-long series on my blog in which I share my responses to the writing assignment prompts found in THE BUTTERLY HOURS by Patty Dann.

I welcome you to join me, if you like! I've divided the prompts by month, and the plan is to respond to 3 (or so) a week. For some of these I may write poems, for others prose. The important thing is to mine my memory. Who knows where this exploration will lead?

In January I wrote about: apron, bar, basketball, bed, bicycle, birthday, boat, broom, button, cake, car.

In February: chair, chlorine, church, concert, cookbook, couch, dancing, desk, dessert, dining room table, diploma.

Here are March's prompts: divorce, door, dream, emergency room, envelope, eyebrows, first apartment, first job, food, game, garden.

*I'll be taking a break from this project during April, so I can focus on my 2019 National Poetry Month poem-a-day project: ARTSPEAK! Happy.

GARDEN

First, I should mention that I wrote a whole book inspired by my grandparents' garden -- FRESH DELICIOUS: Poems from the Farmers' Market.

And I wrote a whole cycle of poems in 2016 -- ARTSPEAK! Plant. Grow. Eat! So gardens have come up in my writing quite a lot.

 My parents subscribed to Mother Earth News and made attempts at self-sustainability while we were young. This included beef cows, pigs, rabbits for food -- and the subject of some awful can't-shake images; dairy cows for milk; vegetable garden for produce. 

So yes, there were gardens. But it was my grandparents' garden that grows green in my memory. They lived in Port St. Joe where the soil isn't so much soil as sand. It's hard to grow anything there without a lot of water, fertilizer and man-hours spent weeding. Granddaddy and Grandma didn't mind. Or if they did, they just put their heads down and did what needed done. 

I have quite a few pictures of Granddaddy standing in front of various crops. He loved to grow Silver Queen corn and Better Boy tomatoes. He also loved yellow-meated watermelons. Many afternoons I'd sit with Grandma on the concrete back porch steps, her with a giant stainless steel bowl of peas for us to shell or beans for us to snap. Her fingers were long and thin, like mine... and knobby and wrinkly-soft-- not like mine at all. She was gentle with the vegetables, in the way we are all gentle with things we've helped create. She didn't take a single bean for granted. Thanks to her Depression-era childhood, every single one was important. There were no throw-aways.

my kind of garden -
the kind that plants &
 tends itself!

My mother has given over vegetable gardening for flowers. She loves roses best of all and beams when the roses are flourishing and is bothered when they are not. She says gardening is good for her soul – she loves the dirt, the sweat, the work of bringing something up and making the world more beautiful. Meanwhile, I appreciate a garden, but don't want to put in the hours to make it happen. I don't enjoy the heat or the sweat or the dirt under my nails. So I opt for low-care, native species in my own yard and marvel over the efforts of others.

I have been thinking lately that I want to create a fern glade in my shady back yard... and also a small chapel built into the slope overlooking the lake. AND... I want to hire someone to create a mural on the side of the RV shed. Flowers, maybe? Or a landscape of misty mountains? A farm scene? I'm not sure yet. Thinking...

The Butterfly Hours Memoir Project: GAME

For 2019 I'm running a year-long series on my blog in which I share my responses to the writing assignment prompts found in THE BUTTERLY HOURS by Patty Dann.

I welcome you to join me, if you like! I've divided the prompts by month, and the plan is to respond to 3 (or so) a week. For some of these I may write poems, for others prose. The important thing is to mine my memory. Who knows where this exploration will lead?

In January I wrote about: apron, bar, basketball, bed, bicycle, birthday, boat, broom, button, cake, car.

In February: chair, chlorine, church, concert, cookbook, couch, dancing, desk, dessert, dining room table, diploma.

Here are March's prompts: divorce, door, dream, emergency room, envelope, eyebrows, first apartment, first job, food, game, garden.

GAME

I've written about gaming before... my middle son Andrew is quite the gamer. Here's a poem For Love of the Game.

The Dykes family
Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, 1975

My earliest memories include play time with Saudi children when we lived in a Saudi neighborhood in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. We couldn't speak the same language, but we could play games: hopscotch, chase, marbles, goats. (Goats were everywhere! We loved scaring them off the tops of the cars, just to see them leap onto the street, where the fine, red dust would puff up in clouds.)

When you grow up in a big family – esp. a family who moves a lot -- your siblings become your primary playmates. We played Candyland and Sorry, Battleship and Monopoly. Later, as a teen, I loved Pictionary and Trivial Pursuit. Our card games were pretty elementary – Go Fish and War.

Our favorite games were outdoors: my brother Ken and I had many a contest: who can swing the highest, who can swim across the pond the fastest. Lynn and MicaJon and I were constantly inventing games and pretend worlds. The pasture across the street from us at our Folsom, LA house we named “Egypt,” after watching THE TEN COMMANDMENTS many, many times. One of the huge oaks was Nefertiri and the other was Rameses. We'd ride our ponies over there across the Nile (a creek) and “play” Egypt. At the Burns Lane house in Birmingham, we hosted our own backyard Olympics. We have all the events we could possible create, including a synchronized swimming event featuring me and Lynn. We created and awarded medals.

One not-so-happy game memory: playing Bingo with Grandma Oslund and my brother Ken and my grandparents home in the retirement community of Sun City, FL. We had one of those sets with the round wire cage that you'd crank to spin, and then pull a number. I had been the “caller” for several rounds, and Grandma said it was time for Ken to have a turn. I didn't like that idea – I wanted to be the caller every time. When I refused, Grandma called me a “snotty little girl.” It hurt my feelings so much that I ran away from the game and cried in my room. Grandma had every right to be frustrated with me... but she could be sharp-tongued and hurtful. I've carried those words with me for many years.

The Butterfly Hours Memoir Project: FOOD

For 2019 I'm running a year-long series on my blog in which I share my responses to the writing assignment prompts found in THE BUTTERLY HOURS by Patty Dann.

I welcome you to join me, if you like! I've divided the prompts by month, and the plan is to respond to 3 (or so) a week. For some of these I may write poems, for others prose. The important thing is to mine my memory. Who knows where this exploration will lead?

In January I wrote about: apron, bar, basketball, bed, bicycle, birthday, boat, broom, button, cake, car.

In February: chair, chlorine, church, concert, cookbook, couch, dancing, desk, dessert, dining room table, diploma.

Here are March's prompts: divorce, door, dream, emergency room, envelope, eyebrows, first apartment, first job, food, game, garden.

FOOD

I grew up with an obese father and a mother who was perpetually on a diet. My mother was also perpetually unhappy with my father's obesity. So, food – weight – has often been a focus in my life. It meant my father was not one of those active fathers... I remember Grandma Dykes saying “Kenny never did like exercise.” (Kenny was my father. ) “Kenny” also loved a big meal, preferably a meat-n-potato meal. He loved his steak medium rare. He also got offended if a server questioned his preferences.

Photo by Pedro Ribeiro on Unsplash

One time at a restaurant when he asked for ketchup, the server said, “you don't need ketchup with this steak.” My father was like, “don't you know sometimes I order a steak just to eat ketchup?”

He was funny.

He was also a snacker. I remember riding in his car as a teen and noticing (for the first time) all the snack wrappers – candy bars and pork rinds and coke cans.

One time he decided to diet, and he lost 100 pounds using SlimFast. It was weird, him being so small – I remember thinking he wasn't my cuddly Papa-bear anymore. It wasn't long before he gained it all back.

All this focus on weight – whether direct or indirect – made me hyper-conscious about weight and healthy. For many years I weighed myself every day, just to be sure I wasn't slipping. I no longer subject myself to that kind of intense scrutiny, but I still have body image issues that I know are linked to this family history.

One of the best things I've done for my health in recent years is banish the scale... and add veggie juice to my daily diet. My favorite recipe includes spinach, zucchini, celery, cucumber, and a lime. Put it all in the Nutriblender, and voila!

POP-UP SHAKESPEARE for National Poetry Month

Hello and Happy Poetry Friday! Be sure to visit Rebecca at Sloth Reads for Roundup.

I'm in with a book I hope you will include in your National Poetry Month plans and celebrations: Jennie Maizels POP-UP SHAKESPEARE by Reed Martin & Austin Tichenor (The Reduced Shakespeare Company).

Before we get to the book, I should tell you that my favorite Shakespeare so far has been:

1. the recorded version of "Hamlet" I listened to from a record player during a couple of weeks of my high school English class

2. a stage production of "A Midsummer Night's Dream" I saw when I was in college

3. the Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danes' 1996 Romeo + Juliet.

I am by no means a Shakespeare scholar, obviously. But I have appreciated and marveled at his contribution to literature and society. And I rather like the Shakespeare in Love romanticized version of Will... dreamy!

And what fun this book is! It starts with a "Welcome to the World of William Shakespeare" so readers get a sense of what it was like to live from 1564-1616 as Shakespeare did. There are flaps to lift and secret doors to discover. I've found something new each time I've looked at the book. And the best news? It makes Shakespeare's work a lot more accessible for younger readers.

Some things I especially loved discovering:

A list of words and phrases William Shakespeare invented, i.e. "amazement" and "zany."

Each play (yes, the book contains Shakespeare's COMPLETE WORKS) reduced to a few short words such as: for The Two Gentlemen of Verona: "Falling in love with your best friend's girlfriend is a bad idea."

Shakespeare's "lost" play Cardenio comes with the message "always make copies of your work."

These words about love: "Shakespeare often uses imagery of the sun, moon, and stars to represent love's vastness; flowers and trees to suggest love's fragility; and the weather to show love's turbulence and ever-changing quality. Love's a big subject."

The hidden "quotable quotes."

Shakespeare by the numbers, at the end of the book, i.e. 1 wife, 154 sonnets, 8 shipwrecks, 3 dogs. :)

This is a great gift to give someone (or yourself!) during National Poetry Month. Heck, you might even be inspired to write a sonnet or two... or at the very least, as suggested in this book, a Shakespearean Valentine?

Example: "To be or not to be your Valentine..." [open card] "...that is the question." :)

The Butterfly Hours Memoir Project: EYEBROWS

For 2019 I'm running a year-long series on my blog in which I share my responses to the writing assignment prompts found in THE BUTTERLY HOURS by Patty Dann.

I welcome you to join me, if you like! I've divided the prompts by month, and the plan is to respond to 3 (or so) a week. For some of these I may write poems, for others prose. The important thing is to mine my memory. Who knows where this exploration will lead?

In January I wrote about: apron, bar, basketball, bed, bicycle, birthday, boat, broom, button, cake, car.

In February: chair, chlorine, church, concert, cookbook, couch, dancing, desk, dessert, dining room table, diploma.

Here are March's prompts: divorce, door, dream, emergency room, envelope, eyebrows, first apartment, first job, food, game, garden.

EYEBROWS

Somehow I missed this one! So I will remedy with a short little exploration:

I've always had thick eyebrows. Thanks to Brooke Shields, this was never a problem when I was growing up. – in fact, it was considered a beauty asset!

These days the trend leans toward much thinner, more groomed eyebrows, but I'm still a Brooke-y... I have large features, so why skimp on the brows?

Besides, I rather admire Frida Kahlo and her bold kissing caterpillars...

ETA... I just read AH-HA TO ZIG ZAG by Maira Kalman, which features a dog's (very cute) eyebrows:

In the Middle of the Night: Poems by Laura Purdie Salas

So many congratulations to Laura Purdie Salas, who has not one, but three new poetry books so far this year! I'm thrilled to be part of her blog tour for IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT: POEMS FROM A WIDE-AWAKE HOUSE, illustrations by Angela Matteson, brought to us by the wonderful folks at Wordsong/Boyds Mills Press. 
What a fun concept, right? Reminds me of TOY STORY and NIGHT AT THE MUSEUM... who hasn't wondered what the household items are doing while we sleep??
Please find Laura's answers to 4 simple prompts below.

Take it away, Laura!

Laura Purdie Salas

Thanks, Irene, for hosting the blog tour today! I can’t tell you how lovely it is to be appearing at Live Your Poem!

The difficult: I think the scariest part of writing this book was that I wrote most of the poems in 2012, and then Wordsong acquired the manuscript in 2013, but I didn’t work on a major revision of it until 2014. When I received Rebecca Davis’ long, thoughtful editorial letter in 2014, my first thought was, “Ack! I don’t even remember these poems! Did I write these? How am I going to reimagine them and work on them again from the same head space?”

The beauty of it was that revision shouldn’t happen from the same head space, and that maybe that passage of 2 years actually helped my revision. And Rebecca’s letter and thoughts were great springboards for some deep thinking. But…I still remember that feeling of panic!

The delicious: Angela Matteson’s art, without question. As an author, you just never know what to expect, even when you like an artist’s style! Angela blew me away. Her deep, gorgeous colors and wonderful facial expressions kept this book lively and enchanting—erasing my initial worries that it might end up too dark and gloomy.

And, going back to that revision I mentioned above, it was delightful that a reviewer specifically called out how strong the two poems in the parents’ room were. Writing poems about the parents’ belongings was completely Rebecca’s idea. So, I guess the delicious part is that I couldn’t have asked for a more wonderful collaboration!

words by Laura Purdie Salas,
pictures by Angela Matteson

The unexpected: I even got students in on the revision process. In 2016, I was teaching poetry at a Young Authors Conference. That same week, I was doing some final edits on In the Middle of the Night—tweaking and polishing this time around. As the students filed in and found seats, I had different versions of a poem projected for them to read, and then the students voted on which worked best. It was only the difference of a word or two in each case, but students—by sharing their votes and opinions—helped me polish several poems that week!

Anything else: I think my favorite thing of all is that writing this book helped me rewrite some childhood memories. For me, nighttime was dark and scary and lonely. But this book, with its charming stuffed animals and animated objects, its lovely colors, and its child snoozing peacefully through all of it, celebrates the magic and beauty of night. I’m hoping it will help readers find comfort, too. Apologies to parents if the book makes kids want to stay up and spy on their mischief-making toys and belongings :>)

Book trailer and many adorable activity sheets at https://laurasalas.com/middle/

-----------
Thank you, Laura, for bringing so much fun to nighttime.

The Butterfly Hours Memoir Project: FIRST JOB

For 2019 I'm running a year-long series on my blog in which I share my responses to the writing assignment prompts found in THE BUTTERLY HOURS by Patty Dann.

I welcome you to join me, if you like! I've divided the prompts by month, and the plan is to respond to 3 (or so) a week. For some of these I may write poems, for others prose. The important thing is to mine my memory. Who knows where this exploration will lead?

In January I wrote about: apron, bar, basketball, bed, bicycle, birthday, boat, broom, button, cake, car.

In February: chair, chlorine, church, concert, cookbook, couch, dancing, desk, dessert, dining room table, diploma.

Here are March's prompts: divorce, door, dream, emergency room, envelope, eyebrows, first apartment, first job, food, game, garden.

FIRST JOB

We were given lots of household chores in our family, both indoor and out. One I particularly remember was Saturday mornings spent "picking up sticks" in the front yard of our Folsom, LA house. We rotated jobs, and I always enjoyed the dusting and cleaning mirrors best. :)

When it came to jobs for other people, the first and most consistent thing I ever did was babysit. I loved babysitting. For several years in high school I babysat the Mann girls: Phoenix, Noel, Merry Lynn and Alaina. I adored those girls! (Still do.) It was so much fun to watch them grow up and to be loved by them. What an honor! It was also great preparation for becoming a mom. I remember getting lots of praise for how I handled the girls -- we had a lot of fun together! -- except for one time when I carried the girls with me to take one of my mom's foster babies to the doctor. Oh boy, was Jana mad! She did NOT want her girls picking up some something in that doctor's office. I've never forgotten that.

Other jobs I had (for pay) were working as a cashier at Krystal's (nothing like fast food to teach you a thing or two about people), working in Sears (hardware department, about which I knew virtually nothing going in), and as a Mother's Day Out teacher (which is basically babysitting, but with a curriculum). 

Anyhow, here is a poem about the kind of babysitter I tried to be, and the kind of babysitter I wanted (and had! Hi, Jessica!) for my boys. My ideal *might* be a little bit influenced by one Mary Poppins. :)

The Best Babysitter

The best babysitter

hardly ever sits –

she invites us to climb

her like a jungle gym,

then she tickles us to bits.

She reads us

stacks of stories

and makes mealtime fun.

Her fingers are puppets

and she knows the best songs

to get the chores done.

She keeps us safe and clean.

She warms our chilly toes.

Everyone who meets her

says the same thing:

I want one of those!

- Irene Latham

The Butterfly Hours Memoir Project: FIRST APARTMENT

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For 2019 I'm running a year-long series on my blog in which I share my responses to the writing assignment prompts found in THE BUTTERLY HOURS by Patty Dann.

I welcome you to join me, if you like! I've divided the prompts by month, and the plan is to respond to 3 (or so) a week. For some of these I may write poems, for others prose. The important thing is to mine my memory. Who knows where this exploration will lead?

In January I wrote about: apron, bar, basketball, bed, bicycle, birthday, boat, broom, button, cake, car.

In February: chair, chlorine, church, concert, cookbook, couch, dancing, desk, dessert, dining room table, diploma.

Here are March's prompts: divorce, door, dream, emergency room, envelope, eyebrows, first apartment, first job, food, game, garden.

First Apartment

some Disney mementos

I've only ever lived in an apartment once, and it was only for one semester of college while I attended Walt Disney College Program in Orlando, Florida. It was my first time away from home, and shared a second-floor apartment with three other girls – Linda, Laurie and Lori. Laurie and Lori shared a room and bathroom, and so did Linda and me. Sometimes Linda would bring home her boyfriend Grant over to spend the night... in the twin bed not three feet from mine! For an introvert, it was pretty awful to have virtually no privacy.

Lori, Mickey, me (in
Easter dress my mom
made me, Laurie (front)

A couple of things stand out to me about the apartment experience: I learned the very first day how uncool I was in terms of clothing. These girls had “outfits” and I had shorts and a t-shirt. (I later borrowed clothes from them.) I also learned that it was unusual for a girl my age to include in the photo collage on her wall a picture of her little brother kissing her on the cheek. (They thought he was a boyfriend.) I understood pretty quickly how the rest of the world must see my odd family, and it was hard – especially when I was so lonely for all of them! I learned so so much about myself and my family.

Other memories include shopping at Publix for the only staples I could afford: Kraft macaroni and cheese (the blue box) and peanut butter (crunchy) and apple jelly, for the many sandwiches I ate. (The College Program deducted our rent from our paychecks, and let me tell you, there wasn't a lot left!)

Is there life after Disney World?

I'd also left a boyfriend behind (we'd both interviewed for Disney, but I was the only one to get in), and during my stay at Disney, we were struggling – we didn't know whether to work harder for our relationship, or to let it go. (I met someone in Orlando and was having my own adventures...) Some nights I would use the apartment phone (located in the kitchen) and stretch the curly cord all the way down the hall and hide in my room (whenever Linda wasn't home) with the door partially closed in order to have a semi-private conversation with that boy. (We broke up for good shortly after my return to Birmingham, and he later did a few semesters with the Walt Disney College Program without me.)

For half a minute I thought about staying at Disney and transferring to University of Central Florida, but it just didn't make sense. At UAB, I could commute from my family's home. Instead I came home with a new bumper sticker: “Is there life after Disney World?”

Turns out the answer to that question is YES. Yes there is! Four months after returning home I met Paul... next month we will celebrate our 28^th wedding anniversary!

"The Proper Way to Meet a Hedgehog" by Allan Wolf

Hello and Happy Poetry Friday! Be sure to visit Heidi at my juicy little universe for a Youth Climate Strike-themed roundup.

While I don't have a poem related to that, please do go see the adorable Youth Climate Strike illustration by Thea Baker (who also illustrated my LOVE, AGNES: POSTCARDS FROM AN OCTOPUS).

Just 6 more slots left for this year's Progressive Poem! Please join us!!!

I'm in with the title poem from the newly released THE PROPER WAY TO MEET A HEDGEHOG AND OTHER HOW-TO POEMS, edited by the late Paul B. Janeczko, illus. by Richard Jones, poems by some wonderful poets we know and adore!

It's hard to write those words -- "the late Paul B. Janeczko." Paul was such a kind human, and I'm so so honored he chose to include 3 of my poems in this collection. There's more I want to say eventually.

But today I want to share with you the title poem, which happens to be written by poet-extraordinaire Allan Wolf. Allan was kind enough to answer a few questions for me, too -- so please keep reading! And, in a nod to PBJ, I'll forever think of Allan as "Wolfman" now. You'll see... read on! 

The Proper Way to Meet a Hedgehog

Today I walked outside and spied

a hedgehog on the hill.

When she and I met eye to eye,

she raised up straight and still.

The quills across her back puffed out.

She froze in blind alarm.

In turn, I ceased to move about

to show I meant no harm.

Awhile we stood there silently

in time as if to say,

"I'll leave you be if you leave me,"

then went our separate ways.

- Allan Wolf

Rosie's favorite toy stash

IL: What inspired this poem? 

WOLFMAN: I wrote the poem years and years ago, in one of my favorite hiding places on the second floor of Ramsey Library at UNC-Asheville. It is pin-drop quiet there. If memory serves me, I actually wrote The Proper Way to Meet a Hedgehog around the same time I wrote "How to Care for Your Tree" (another How-To poem in the Janeczko collection). And I recall I had plans for my own How-To Poem collection, though I ultimately moved on to other things. At that time, probably, around 1999, I was writing up a storm and trying a whole variety of things. I wrote a bazillion "double dactyl" poems (one that ended up in A Kick in the Head) at this time as well. None of that really explains the poem's inspiration, of course. Perhaps on that day I was feeling particularly erinaceous. 

Rosie guarding hedgehog toy

IL: Why a hedgehog? 

WOLFMAN: I liked the musical sound of the double H in hedgehog. And to be quite honest, I didn't really KNOW all that much about hedgehogs. This was years before hedgehogs would become popular cute pets. I sort of equated hedgehogs with porcupines. So the "meeting" (or maybe it started out as "greeting"?) was actually a bit fraught with danger--moreso than the poem takes on today. It was a time of experimentation as I was trying to find my own voice.  I specifically wrote the poem in the old-school classic way of A.A. Milne. And "How to Care for Your Tree" was specifically written in the style of Lewis Carroll. 

Rosie wrestling around
with hedgehog toy

IL: Do you have any words about finding out your poem would be the title of the book?

WOLFMAN: I'm glad you asked me that, cause I remember feeling pleased and honored, in the first place when Paul contacted me in 2016 to say he wanted two of my poems for the collection. He said he would pay me "two crisp one hundred dollar bills." I said I'd take my daughter out to the Chinese Buffet and he replied, "Poo Poo for all!" Anthologies are a long, slow process, I had submitted the poems to him so long ago that I had forgotten all about the project. So it was a nice surprise to have the cash for a couple poems that had just been lying about. Later that same year, in December he sent me the following brief e-mail: 

Allan Wolf

Yo, Wolfman

Ho, ho, etc. I wanted you to know that the title of the book of how-to poems has been decided: The Proper Way to Meet a Hedgehog and Other How-To Poems. I thought you’d get a kick out of that. (I get my kicks from champagne. Or, used to.) Happy holiday, my friend.

He signed it in his usual lower case "pbj,"  the goofiest initials in the history of initials. 

You ask me how I felt. I was pleased, of course, because to have written the titular poem is something of an extra honor. I actually purchased a shirt with a cute little hedgehog pattern! (See photo attached). While it doesn't necessarily indicate that it is the "best" poem, it does show that it captures the essence of the collection as a whole. I was also pleased because I knew I wanted to use poems in the collection as "mentor texts" in future writing workshops. I

Allan's new book
THE DAY THE UNIVERSE
EXPLODED MY HEAD

suppose you might also say that it was recognition to my readers and my poetic peers that I was "officially" a part of the "canon" of contemporary children's poetry. Perhaps it makes me an "overnight success"--after 30 years in the business! But most impactful of all, is the bitter sweet appreciation I feel toward this collection (with its wonderful, who's-who line-up of authors writing poetry for young people) and how it pays tribute to Paul Janeczko's spirit, heart, and vision. 

So many thanks to Allan for sharing here today... and so much love to Paul for filling the world with beautiful words.

STARDUST by Jeanne Willis, illus. by Briony May Smith

I love books about sibling issues... maybe because with 3 brothers and 1 sister, I had sibling issues! And as a parent of 3 sons, I've witnessed many sibling issues.

And when I say "issues," I should say that not all of those issues are bad, per se... I am so so lucky I got The Best Sister in the World. She and I saved each other's lives more than once and in more ways than I can ever adequately communicate.

Irene & Lynn, BFASF

Anyway... there was a time when I felt overshadowed by my (little) sister. She was not only beautiful (and participated -- and won! -- lots of beauty pageants), she's also smart and driven. Of the two of us, she was definitely a higher achiever in school! For a while I wasn't sure where -- or how --I could shine.

And that's what STARDUST by Jeanne Willis, illus. by Briony May Smith, brought to us by Nosy Crow, is all about. The heroine in the book is lucky to have a grandfather who reminds her of her worth and all the possibilities for her. (I, too, was lucky to have so many loving adults in my life to make me feel loved and valued.)

By the end of the book her focus has shifted from what she's not (her sister) to how big the world is and how many possibilities there are for her (and everyone!).

The last spread leads us to believe this little girl becomes an astronaut with her own star-y adventures. It's hopeful and sweet, and might be just the message some kid in your life needs to hear.

Yes, we are all stardust. xo

The Butterfly Hours Memoir Project: ENVELOPE

For 2019 I'm running a year-long series on my blog in which I share my responses to the writing assignment prompts found in THE BUTTERLY HOURS by Patty Dann.

I welcome you to join me, if you like! I've divided the prompts by month, and the plan is to respond to 3 (or so) a week. For some of these I may write poems, for others prose. The important thing is to mine my memory. Who knows where this exploration will lead?

In January I wrote about: apron, bar, basketball, bed, bicycle, birthday, boat, broom, button, cake, car.

In February: chair, chlorine, church, concert, cookbook, couch, dancing, desk, dessert, dining room table, diploma.

Here are March's prompts: divorce, door, dream, emergency room, envelope, eyebrows, first apartment, first job, food, game, garden.

ENVELOPE

Best Envelope in a Book I've Read So Far.
Photo by Rae Tian on Unsplash

Mostly I associate envelopes with happy mail. Whatever home I've lived in, walking out to the mailbox has always been one of my favorite parts of the day. Sending and receiving handwritten, heartfelt notes is definitely one of my primary love languages. However, not all mail is good.

One not-so-happy envelope I remember distinctly was the one my mother gave me after she caught me at school wearing different clothes than the ones I'd left home in. My mom is a seamstress, and when I was in 6^th grade, I was suddenly aware of how un-cool my homemade dresses were. I wanted other clothes, ones that made me feel like I fit in. So, a friend loaned me some jeans and a cute top, and each morning I would change into them on the bus. (It's not hard to change discreetly when you wear a skirt and a tank top!) 

Imagine my surprise when I was on the monkey bars during recess and I saw my mom coming down the sidewalk?? She was there to check out my brother, who was sick. I remember how exposed I felt up there on the monkey bars, and the way my mother's lips were pressed together as she passed by. She didn't say anything at that moment, but I knew I was busted. I had all the rest of the school day to think about it and imagine what terrors awaited me at home. 

When I finally got there, what I found was an envelope on my bed. It contained a four page letter from my mom expressing her disappointment in me – maybe not a big deal to some, but it was pretty devastating to a pleaser like me!