PROPHETS, KINDERGARTEN AND SUNSCREEN

My father sent me one of those chain emails with a subject line that reads "Handbook 2011." I'd like to retitle it "Handbook for Life."

It reminds me of some of my other favorite "handbooks":

The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran

All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten by Robert Fulghum


and of course Baz Lurhmann's Sunscreen song:



A boy in college wrote his own version, especially for me, and I still pull it out from time to time, so I'll always remember.

Here's some of my favorite instructions from the email Handbook:

Live with the 3 E's - Energy, Enthusiasm and Empathy.
Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.
Forgive everyone for everything.
What other people think of you is none of your business.
Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.

What are some of your favorite pieces of life advice? Where do they come from?

THE CURE FOR WHAT AILS YOU

Many moons ago when I went to social work school, we were taught that no emotion is bad. If you feel depressed, it's just one feeling. It's normal. And it will pass.

But what if it doesn't pass?

In today's pharmaceutical-happy world, prescriptions are handed out like Dum-Dums at the bank drive-thru. Some folks actually need the medication. Most, I would argue, do not.

My wip is, in part, about a girl trying to help jerk her grandmother out of a depression. And it's got me thinking about home remedies and other creative ways to deal with the downs in life that inevitably follow the ups.

For me, there are two things that work:

1. Service to others

Depression really is a self-absorbed condition. It's exacerbated by this woe-is-me, let-me-wallow kind of attitude. And the quickest way to release oneself from that egocentrism is to focus on someone else: volunteer for something, sign up to help in the church nursery, make a casserole and deliver it to someone recovering from surgery. As soon as your focus shifts from yourself to someone else, you start to feel better.

2. Get crafty

This doesn't have to be all quilts and crochet and scrapbooking, although those work great for me. Any kind of creative, DIY projects will work. The key is to DO something. Here's some out-of-the-box ideas from Popular Mechanics. And hey, March is National Craft Month! So go to Hobby Lobby. Try something new.

Right now I am working on quilt 4 of my 2011 Quilt a Month challenge. (see above pic) I wouldn't be nearly so far along if my friend Pat hadn't cut so many squares for me. (All my quilts have at least a little Pat in them!) And you can expect to see some of this self-help philosophy in my wip. There will be no prescriptions, that's for sure. I'm excited to see what happens!

GETTING TO KNOW MARK TWAIN

Last night we watched a Mark Twain documentary on Netflix (Have I mentioned how we adore Neflix? Documentaries! Independents! Foreign Films! Seriously, it's almost overwhelming.)

Samuel L. Clemens was quite a guy. And for all his adventures, he endured a great deal of heartbreak too. And lost fortunes. And he hated the lecture circuit! Who knew? But he loved his custom-made home in Hartford, Connecticut. (Totally on the to-do list! Harriet Beecher Stowe's home is in Hartford, too. And Caragh O'Brien, who is just plain WONDERFUL as a writer and friend invited me. Yay!) For all his writings that mocked the wealthy, he certainly enjoyed a certain lifestyle. It's almost like he had a split personality: there was Samuel, and there was Mark Twain. No matter which hat he was wearing, he was completely fascinating.

Of course me being me, I was most interested in the heartbreak. Probably the most tragic time for him was the death of his oldest daughter Susy. She died in 1896 at the age of 24 while he was off on the international year-long lecture tour to earn enough money to pay off his debts.

Samuel (I think it was Samuel and NOT Mark Twain) had these words engraved on her tombstone:

Warm summer sun,
shine kindly here,
Warm southern wind,
blow softly here,
Green sod above,
lie light, lie light,
Good night, dear heart,
Good night, good night.

For many years those words were attributed to Mark Twain. Actually they were borrowed from a poem written by Robert Richardson entitled "Annette" that was published in 1893, three years before Twain’s daughter died.

While writing his autobiography, Twain said that he could not remember the author’s name, and apparently he was uncertain of the exact wording of the poem. But as soon as he learned of "Annette" he added the author’s name to the tombstone without changing the verse, although it was slightly incorrect.

Richardson’s original words are as follows:

Warm summer sun, shine friendly here
Warm western wind, blow kindly here;
Green sod above, rest light, rest light,
Good-night, Annette! Sweetheart, good-night!

Twain's daughter Susy was his favorite, according to the documentary. Maybe because she was also a writer and wrote adoringly of her father. I'm a sucker for father-daughter stories, and I have been known to write adoringly of my writer-father, so this spoke to me.

If you'd like to know more about Mark Twain -- and Samuel -- crank up the Netflix! Good stuff. Happy Poetry Friday. Roundup is at Andromeda's!

TO GIVE AND TO GET

We humans are a generous, compassionate species. That quality is never more evident than when natural disaster strikes -- I mean, who doesn't want to help the people in Japan? So many countries have offered aid. We all know such tragedy could have just as easily been on our shores, destroying our families, our lives.

And then there are those humans like Amy C. Collins and her mother Sharon Griffitts who came to my presentation this past weekend at Florence-Lauderdale Library in Florence, AL. They know I love quilts and art, so they offered me this gorgeous Faith Ringgold print:

Amy and Sharon welcomed me into their happy, yellow, art-filled home where they had enjoyed the print for a number of years, and they asked if I'd like to give it a new home.

Of course, I said YES. So we loaded it up, and I brought it home.

This kind of giving touches me so deeply because it's so personal and so unexpected. That's the kind of giver I want to be. And isn't that the point, anyway? Isn't that why we work to earn extra money, so we can give it away?

I've been thinking lately about what cause I want to embrace (or create). Which means I've been thinking about the things that matter most to me: love, children, family, books, striving. I want to be on Secret Millionaire someday, or create a scholarship for writers or a book prize or writing contest for kids. Only I don't want it to be some generic something, some plain check sent through the mail. I want it to mean more than that.

And I want to give in other ways too. Like the way my friend Pat Weaver does. Whenever she goes to the fabric store, she gets fabric for me too. Then she sends it to me, and it's a Christmas morning moment. She sends us home with cinnamon bread and bandannas for the puppy and little glass blue elephants, because she knows we like things that catch the light. It's such a special way to love someone-- to give.

So, THANK YOU, all you wonderful givers out there. I want to be just like you.

SOME THOUGHTS ON STEPSONS

When I first started dating Paul, oh about twenty-one years ago, I was immediately smitten. But I had seen a little bit of the underside of the world by that time and kept waiting for the moment when he would reveal to me some big secret, some something that would mark him as less perfect than I imagined him to be. I spun all sorts of scenarios in my mind, and the one my psyche seemed most attached to was that either he was married, or that he had some kids out there somewhere that I would be asked to love.

As it turns out, there was no wife or kids. He really was perfect. And even if there had been kids out there, he still would have been perfect. But it probably would have been more challenging to mesh our lives.

Twenty-one years later I am still fascinated by this role of stepparent, and how it can play out in a million different ways, depending on personality and circumstances and other factors. In my mind, I love those imaginary children beyond belief, because they are his. But who's to say? I haven't walked in those shoes.

Which I guess is why I was continually moved to tears when I read Rick Bragg's latest book THE PRINCE OF FROGTOWN.

Here's the description on the back cover: "Inspired by Rick Bragg's love for his stepson, THE PRINCE OF FROGTOWN also chronicles his own journey into fatherhood, as he learns to avoid the pitfalls of his forebearers. With candor, insight, and tremendous humor, Bragg seamlessly weaves these luminous narrative threads together and delivers an unforgettable rumination about fathers and sons."

I love this. LOVE it. This book makes me want to write. This book reminds me of all the reasons we MUST write. And all those section called "The Boy"? I have listened to them again and again. And then I bought the book in print so I could read them again and again. Check it out.

And for Poetry Friday, I'd like to share a poem about a stepmother from my latest collection THE COLOR OF LOST ROOMS. Don't forget to visit Liz in Ink for Roundup!

Anne Moynet Audubon, Long Before Birds of America


This boy would dart off before dawn,
climb trees, examine eggs, take out
his little pencil and draw the birds in flight.

When I’d meet him at the arbor with tea
and cookies, he’d share the bounty
of pockets: egg shells, nests of curling

leaves, feathers of every color. So what
if his cheeks stayed smudged and he rarely
made it in time for supper? For those

of you who’ll say, he was not yours,
I ask you: Does the Earth not belong
to the sky? Does the shore not love

the ocean, even as it crashes upon it?
Does the bluebird not sit on the nest,
even if the egg is speckled instead of pale?

- Irene Latham

A VIEW FROM SATURDAY

Actually, I took this picture last Wednesday. It's a Bradford pear tree, and those of you who live in the south know these trees are very popular for landscape design. At least the were when we built this house over a dozen years ago.

Since Wednesday it's rained, and the blossoms have started to fall off as green shoots move in, and the sky has turned to cold steel. But wasn't it gorgeous??

The reasons I'm posting this pic now, on Sunday, because it's how I felt yesterday (Saturday) when I spent the day in Chattanooga with my sister Lynn.

I have written here before how Lynn is the best give I ever got. It's still true. Seriously, I don't know what I would do without her sweet smile and irreverence and patient ear.

Yesterday, over lunch at Tony's, and before shopping at the North Shore, I unleashed the Crazy Lady who lives in my head... that one battling with story ideas and direction and characters that don't want to stay in their places.

Now you writers know how you cannot dump your madness on just anyone. It's so very personal, and it's such a raw place, with many acres of swampland called Doubt. There's also the Confusion Mountains and the I Want it NOW Ocean. And my sister Lynn is a fortress, a bunker, a Swiss Family Treehouse.

Because she is NOT a writer, I'm not sure she will ever know how many times she's saved my life. All I can do is keep saying THANK YOU.

So, thanks, sweet sister. And the Italian Cream Cake was delicious too.

MEET SEAN GRISWOLD, STARRING LINDSEY LEAVITT

You know how great it is when a dear friend writes a book that you absolutely adore?

Lindsey Leavitt's SEAN GRISWOLD'S HEAD is one of those book for me. And it releases TODAY. Y'all don't want to miss this book. Mainly because the love interest (whom I secretly call SS for Sweet Sean...maybe because I not-so-secretly call Lindsey LL. And her #3 daughter LLL. Yes, this is how creative I am.) is The Boy every girl should be lucky enough to meet. And obsess over. And eventually marry.

I've got my Sean. And my goal as a mom is for my three sons to be Seans as well. (Here they are with me as we celebrated my birthday this past weekend.) Can you just feel my heart bursting with maternal pride? Yep, you mothers of wee ones. You still burst when they get taller than you.

So, meet Sean Griswold, LL's latest creation. And check out Lindsey's blog for insider information on why she chose to write about MS and a bike ride and a boy who rose in a bike ride for MS.

See, too, her account of our Sunday visit to Margaret Mitchell's house in Atlanta. And enjoy this adorable pic of Lindsey posing on the interior staircase. (We tried a pic with a cardboard cut-out of us with teeny tiny Vivian Leigh all decked out in the red velvet dress... alas, that one did not turn out.)

Happy March, everyone!

FIVE FOR FRIDAY

1. It's Poetry Friday! And while I am not able to contribute this week, you should totally get your day off to a good start and head over to Sara at Read Write Believe for Roundup.

2. In the past week I have had speaking engagements at Tuskegee University (for ACETA), Judson College (see previous post), University of Alabama (Women's Resource Center) and today I'll teach a bunch of middle schoolers at University of Montevallo's WRITE IN THE MIDDLE conference. I've so enjoyed making new friends and sharing stories about my experience writing LEAVING GEE'S BEND.

3. Tomorrow is my birthday. 40, baby!! I will be celebrating with some super sweet fellas who said they have some surprises in store. Hmmmm.... I'm not gonna think about it too much because I don't want to accidentally think of the surprise. Hate when that happens.

4. Wait until you see the new quilt I am working on. It's in spring colors and is called "Magic Twist and Stitch 9-Patch." I love how it's turning out!

5. I'm reading an ARC of Kathryn Erskine's THE ABSOLUTE VALUE OF MIKE to my youngest, and we are loving it! Kathy and her daughter stayed with us over the summer, so reading this book feels really personal. And Kathy, if you're reading this, Eric paid you a wonderful comment when he said, "Are you sure she's the one who wrote that book?" The voice is THAT authentically Teenage Boy! Wonderful, Kathy.

Happy weekend, All!

JOY AT JUDSON COLLEGE

What a warm welcome I received today at Judson College in Marion, Alabama. Judson has its own china pattern, so this tea cup and saucer will serve as my souvenir. Don't you love it?

After I spoke to a room-full of wonderful young women, I shared a lovely lunch with Sulynn Creswell (whom I adore) of Blackbelt Treasures, Michael Brooks and President David Potts from Judson, author/poet/artist-in-residence Dr. Bille Jean Young (who was kind enough to give me copies of two of her works. I can't wait to read!) and several other gracious faculty and staff. It was such a pleasure to share time with adults so passionate about education and creativity.

Sulynn brought along this broomstick version of Ludelphia that totally warms my heart. She was created at Blackbelt Treasures as part of a recycled art project. What a great idea!

Below is a pic of the three of us: Sulynn, Ludelphia and me. Wishing everyone a joyful day!

COMING SOON: BEACH SEASON

Actually, I'm kind of partial to the beach in fall, when the heat is not nearly so brutal. And I love it at night best of all. There's just something about the cool sand and warm breeze and scurrying crabs -- in the dark. Love it.

We are, however, talking about zipping down with the kids to the beach during spring break. But we've learned from experience not to make any hard and fast plans. We'll just wait and see what the weather is like that week, then decide.

Meanwhile, my new book THE COLOR OF LOST ROOMS contains several beach poems. Today I'd like to share one that was inspired by a painting in the permanent collection at National Museum of Art by Women in Washington, DC. Perhaps you've had a "beach scene" like the one below.

Thanks for reading. And for more wonderful poetry, don't forget to visit Mary Ann at Great Kids Books for Roundup!


Beach Scene
-after the painting by Jane Peterson

Sand in drifts,
parade of skin:
peach, pink,

ruddy, lobster.
Heat prickles,
tempers flare

bare feet sink,
splash, dash
buckets, shovels

tossed aside
for waves,
sea salt, foam.

Ocean grumbles,
roars, later
whispers,

I’m sorry
shhhhh
yes.

FOR THE LOVE OF LINE EDITS

How awesome is this??

Thank you, Nancy Mercado, for wrapping it all up with a colorful ribbon and an artsy note. How could I NOT be inspired to work hard and make DON'T FEED THE BOY the best it can be??

Yep. Sometimes it really is the little things.

Wishing all of you lots of little things today!

WHAT COLOR IS CANCER, AND OTHER THOUGHTS TO PONDER

.

for Poetry Friday, I want to tell you about all the juicy goodness spilling from the pages of the latest Birmingham Arts Journal.

There's Maria Coble's poem "What Color is Cancer?" which just might surprise you. (No, it's not black.)

There's Vernon Fowlkes Jr.'s poem "Say We Have Felt This" that addresses sound and touch and begins

Say this is a sound
wired in the hammer
in the ear. Say

There's Jim Reed's piece entitled "How to Murder an Author." (In case you were curious!)

There's Nick McRae's poem about what happens with goldfish entitled "The Ressurrection and the Life."

There's Kory Wells' lovely poem called "Still, My Daughter Wants to Fly."

There's even a poem of mine: "Why Hester Prynne Still Loves the Color Red."

And so much more! I hope you'll check it out. Then, send me your submissions!! Would love to publish some of my Poetry Friday friends.

Speaking of...Carol at Rasco from RIF has Poetry Friday Round up.

EXPLORE THIS

You may not know this, but I am a big fan of reader's theater. I have such fond memories of watching the excitement of my own kids as they participated in reader's theater, and I've even written some vignettes myself for teachers to use in conjunction with LEAVING GEE'S BEND. So I was particularly joyous when I head about Doraine Bennett's new book entitled READER'S THEATER FOR GLOBAL EXPLORERS.

To help celebrate the release of the book, I invited Doraine (who is such a lovely person - seriously, visit her blog)to answer some questions about this fun project.

1. What are the benefits of using Reader's Theater to teach history?
Reader's Theater lets students bring a character, an event, or an unfamiliar culture to life.They have the opportunity to "become" the character without the trappings of an actual play. In order to interpret a character well, the reader has to understand the emotions that character experienced in any given scene. Getting to the bottom of those emotions gives the reader new insight into history. And of course, the side benefit to all reader's theater productions is that students develop fluency.




2. I especially love "The North Pole: Who Was First? (or Did They Really Get There At All?) because of the unexpected way the information is presented. How did you choose that particular viewpoint?

The North Pole was the most difficult of all the scripts I wrote. The entire country was in a uproar over the events. There was controversy, backbiting, accusations swirling around both Peary and Cook. I felt like I couldn't write their story without really understanding it. Cook seemed such a likable guy, I wanted him to have won. But he truly was a scam artist. Unfortunately this fact blinded people to the accomplishments he did make in his understanding and treatment of the Native Americans. Peary on the other hand was an egotistical boor. His original records have still never been released, so there really is some question about whether he actually made it. And of course Matthew Henson was the one who got him as far as he did get. I finally came up with the courtroom scene as a way to present the facts that were known and the ones that were intentionally obscured. I think the ending gives students a great beginning point for discussion.




3. Tell us a bit about your process. How does writing Reader's Theater differ from the other nonfiction work that you have done?
The process of writing reader's theater is more like writing historical fiction than nonfiction, because you are creating a scene. And you must choose one or two simple scenes that convey the essence of the entire story. There's the same amount of research that you would expect in a nonfiction book, the facts are the facts. They are just presented in a different format.



4. You've written a slew of books for the educational market. Tell us how this particular book came to be -- from idea to publication.
I follow the blog of a wonderful nonfiction writer named Nancy I. Sanders. In March 2009, Nancy walked her readers through the process of identifying gaps in a publisher's series of books, and then sending a query to offer a proposal before writing the book. I researched Libraries Unlimited who had a series called Readers Theatre. It's a bit nerve-racking, but I found some of their books in the library and thought--okay, I could do that. I looked at the line of titles and sent an email query to editor asking if she would like to see a proposal for a book on explorers, and two other topics which I can't even remember now. I got an e-mail reply saying yes. So, I picked explorers from my list of topics, took about three months to write a proposal following the guidelines on the website. I included a table of contents and one script. In August, I got a phone call saying they wanted to offer me a contract. They gave me until July 2010 to complete the project. And the book came out in late December 2010.

5. If you could actually live in any of the scenes that you've created for Global Explorers, which story and role would you choose?
I'm really partial to Sir Ernest Shackleton. I think sledding on your bum down a frozen mountain on South Georgia Island with him would have been a hair-raising, exhilarating, once-in-a lifetime memory. Assuming you survived, of course.

YOU'RE INVITED: POETRY RETREAT!

For all of you Poetry Friday folks, I have to tell you about this retreat that I am SO excited about:

Dive Into Poetry Retreat with Rebecca Kai Dotlich
Friday, June 10, 2011 - Sunday, June 12, 2011
Center for New Beginnings, Dahlonega, Georgia 30533

Sponsored by Southern Breeze SCBWI
and arranged by the lovely Robyn Hood Black
manuscript critique is included with registration! (Must be RECEIVED no later than April 25, 2011)

For more info, please see page 7 of this newsletter
REGISTER HERE

I hope some of you can make it -- it's going to be fantastic! And how fun would it be to meet some of you??

On the theme of invitations, I have two invitation poems to share. They have each had a huge impact on my life, albeit at very different times.

The first, from childhood:

Invitation

If you are a dreamer, come in
If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar,
A hope-er. a pray-er, a magic bean buyer...
If you're a pretender, come sit by the fire
For we have some flax-golden tales to spin.
Come in!
Come in!

-Shel Silverstein

The second, as I entered adulthood. I still keep this one pinned to my bulletin board:

Invitation

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love
for your dreams
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon...
I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow
if you have been opened by life's betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your
fingers and toes
without cautioning us to
be careful
be realistic
to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.

rest of poem here

- Oriah Mountain Dreamer

Anyone else have an "invitation" poem to share? I'd love to hear about it. And don't forget to visit Doraine at Dori Reads for Roundup!

PERFECT READER

A couple of weeks ago I walked out to the mailbox and found the most delightful surprise: an envelope with a book entitled Perfect Reader by Maggie Pouncey. Inside the book was a little note from the brilliant, generous, talented Jessica DeHart. It said that when she reads good books, she likes to pass them on. And I was the lucky recipient! (Thank you, Jess!!!) So I sank right in.

And, of course, Jessica was right: it's a good book. And with themes on poetry and father/daughter relationships and griefing and moving on, it was a great fit for me. The basic premise has main character Flora in possession of her recently-deceased father's collection of poems. She has to decide what to do with them -- publish or not, edit or not, read or not. This is all complicated by the entry of her father's secret significant other -- the woman who inspired the love/sex poems and to whom the collection is dedicated.

Flora wonders if she is her father's "perfect reader." And it's got me thinking about MY perfect reader.

I tend to be pretty guarded about my writing in general. It's a self-protective mesasure... I just can't handle other people's input in the raw stage of development. After a few drafts, I'm okay. Although I STILL am very careful about asking for help. It's got to be just the right person.

In his poem "Selecting a Reader," Ted Kooser says, "First, I would have her be beautiful."

Don't we ALL want her to be beautiful?? (full poem found here)

In Perfect Reader, Pouncey described exactly what I look for in a reader:

“But be kind to your old dad. Don’t give me the full editorial treatment. Big pictures. Favorite and least favorite lines. Triumphs and disasters. That sort of thing.“

There's time later for the full editorial treatment... and it doesn't need to come from someone I love. I guess I need the professional distance actual editors provide... because I love revising. I love it when an editor helps my work achieve its potential.

What about all of you? What do you look for in a reader?

Oh, and to pay it forward: if you think this is a book you would enjoy, leave me a comment, and I'll send it to you! First person to request it wins!

WHAT IS THE GREATEST GIFT?

So this quilt is the gift the enrichment students of Homewood Middle School presented to me. It's not any ordinary quilt: this one contains special pieces of fabric from each child -- sports team t-shirts, dance costumes, favorite robes, snippets of blankets, even the ear from a well-loved teddy bear.

And to make it even more precious, the students put the stories of their quilt pieces into a book for me called "The Story of Our Quilt." The book contains a swatch of each fabric, and each child's story is stitched into the pages.

I was so touched by the way these kids took this project to heart. They seemed to put such thought into the pieces they chose. Some even admitted in their writing how it was hard to give up a piece of that treasure, but how they knew I would love and care for their stories.

What a gift. From the teachers who hatched the plan and the parents who helped and the whole group that orchestrated such a special project. I am in awe, and I'm honored, and this quilt will join my Ludelphia doll on all my LEAVING GEE'S BEND adventures.

And made me remember this Mary Oliver poem. Mary Oliver is on my mind because I get to meet her on Sunday in Atlanta!! So for Poetry Friday, I offer it to you. Roundup is with the lovely Elaine at Wild Rose Reader.


What is the greatest gift?
by Mary Oliver

What is the greatest gift?
Could it be the world itself — the oceans, the meadowlark,
the patience of the trees in the wind?
Could it be love, with its sweet clamor of passion?

Something else — something else entirely
holds me in thrall.
That you have a life that I wonder about
more than I wonder about my own.
That you have a life — courteous, intelligent —
that I wonder about more than I wonder about my own.
That you have a soul — your own, no one else's —
that I wonder about more than I wonder about my own.
So that I find my soul clapping its hands for yours
more than my own.

WOW. JUST WOW.

Day One of my two day visit at Homewoond Middle School, and I cannot wait to share some pics with you. I spoke to 6th, 7th and 8th graders, and I was brought to tears more than once by the way this community of teachers, parents and readers embraced LEAVING GEE'S BEND and made it as personal as possible.

Not only did a group of students travel to Gee's Bend to meet the quilters, but they also...

...dressed up like characters from the story.


...created displays based on passages in the book. Like this one, about napkins folded like birds.


...invited quilters to come stitch and share sewing tips and some of their favorite quilts.


...made 3-D storyboards. SO VERY AMAZING! This one shows Mrs. Cobb's house and barn.


...rounded up quilting gear for tablescapes and made lemon cake and decorated the lunch boxes in fabric-pieced ribbon and and and...


More to come. The group presented me with a gift I will treasure ALWAYS. Can't wait to share!

But first. Must sleep. And prepare for my return visit tomorrow.
Thanks, y'all for sharing my joy. And HMS students, parents and faculty: You are amazing, and I will cherish this experience forever. xo

FROM CHICKEN COOPS TO PIANOS

For Poetry Friday I thought it might be fun to put on my editor's hat.

It has been my privilege to serve as poetry editor for Birmingham Arts Journal for the past (gasp) almost TEN years! It's a great job. I love reading submissions, love being inspired, love the worlds I get to explore through other people's stories.

What I don't like is sending those rejection notices. It's awful. Sometimes the work just isn't ready. Other times, it's just a matter of lack of space. Every time, I detest it.

But every now and again, something wonderful happens. One of those striving poets writes me back and asks if I might possibly provide some feedback.

So I do. And more often than not, I also pass along the following fabulous poem on revision. Big shout-out to poet Marianne Worthington for first introducing me to this poem... it still resonates after all these years.

Hope it resonates with all of you, too. Don't forget to check out Poetry Friday Round up: Tara at a Teaching Life Happy revising, all!

Poetry Workshop
by Jim Wayne Miller from Vein of Words (Seven Buffaloes Press, n.d.)

Try to think of your first draft as a creek
in flood time, roaring out of banks.
There’s been a night storm on your mind’s headwaters
so the poem comes trash-filled, tumbling,
full of chicken coops, barbed wire,
tin shed roofs scraping down over rocks.
It’s tearing along through trees on either bank,
dropping fertilizer sacks and two-by-fours in branches.
It’s swirling and standing out in bottomland.

Now you work with it until it drops
every tin can and bottle and runs clear
again between its banks. Of course, you’ll want
to leave a few surprises, so the reader,
out in your poem like a trout fisherman in waders,
rounds a bend and comes on a piano
lodged high in the forks of a sycamore.

photo found here.

HOW SWEET IS THIS?

MAN, STORM, STICK

This week I've been listening to an audio version of WOODSONG by Gary Paulsen. This is a special book, and I am still trying to decode my intense emotional reaction to it.

Yes, I love the woods. Yes, I love it when people learn things about themselves over the course of a lifetime and are brave enough to share it. And yes, I love dogs. Especially right now with little Ruby in the house.

But. What touches me most is this idea that we can learn from other animals. The magic happens for me when somehow all the differences between two species are bridged -- as in Gary Paulsen's story about his dog Storm and a stick the dog used to communicate his satisfaction or disatisfaction.

This kind of connection with another species requires a stillness, a letting go, a deep listening. And since my guiding light for 2011 is DEEPER, this sounds like a worthy way to spend some time -- to be alert and attentive to that kind of connection that another species may be offering, if only I'd pick up on it.

And how does this tie to Poetry Friday? Well, read the poem below and tell me if it doesn't affect you and perhaps change your perspective about the "ranking" of species. Then visit Laura Salas for Poetry Roundup!

What The Dog Perhaps Hears

by Lisel Mueller

If an inaudible whistle
blown between our lips
can send him home to us,
then silence is perhaps
the sound of spiders breathing
and roots mining the earth;
it may be asparagus heaving,
headfirst, into the light
and the long brown sound
of cracked cups, when it happens.
We would like to ask the dog
if there is a continuous whir
because the child in the house
keeps growing, if the snake
really stretches full length
without a click and the sun
breaks through clouds without
a decibel of effort,
whether in autumn, when the trees
dry up their wells, there isn't a shudder
too high for us to hear.

What is it like up there
above the shut-off level
of our simple ears?
For us there was no birth cry,
the newborn bird is suddenly here,
the egg broken, the nest alive,
and we heard nothing when the world changed.

THE HEAVEN OF UNFINISHED PROJECTS

This is my dining room table. Not a lot eating goes on here, as you can probably tell. And because it's cold, and because it's the start of a new year, and because I am feeling a bit scattershot this week, it has become the Project Table aka The Heaven of Unfinished Projects (after Neruda's "heaven of lost stories").

Among the projects:

a red "City Blocks" quilt I am piecing for a sweet little boy named James who is 5 years old and loves the Disney CARS movie. I'm using fabric from my stash, and on the back I am using a panel I bought with Lightning McQueen and Mater. I also purchased 2 yards of "Map of Radiator Springs" to carry the theme. Getting there!

my 2010 scrapbook. Have I mentioned that I marked 2011 as the year I switch to all-digital scrapbooking? Yep. No more paper and double stick tape for me! I love the ease of producing digital books. But I've still got to finish up my 2010 book before I can completely move on.

one of my wips, the one most calling my name at this very moment. I've got a complete first draft and need to read and revise. So excited about this one!!

poetry submissions, all printed up with lovely cover letters and SASE. It shocks me that there are so many literary magazines out there still NOT accepting electronic submissions. So, a-licking and stamping I go.

a map of the Pacific Ocean, which my middle son wants framed for his bedroom wall. After starting a successful gum business at school, he's graduated to e-bay, where he is selling maps from 19th Century atlases. But this one shows the shipping routes, and he doesn't want to part with it. The whole thing has got me thinking: what map would mean something to me? Of all the places in the world... what geography am I most attached to? Still thinking.

What projects do you have in the works this January? If you had a map on your wall, what would is show?

FOR POETS AND DREAMERS

Welcome to Poetry Friday Roundup!!

It's such a pleasure to host, and thanks as ever to Mary Lee at A Year of Reading for always putting out the call and providing the code and basically making Poetry Friday easy-easy so we can all focus on the joy we find in poetry.

What have I been doing so far this new year? Well, reading. A lot. As in a mad frenzy of reading to be ready for next Monday's Newbery Award announcement.

One of the titles I adored was this one, THE DREAMER by Pam Munoz Ryan and Peter Sis, about young Pablo Neruda -- before he called himself Pablo Neruda! What a beautiful book, and what a hopeful story for anyone who has felt a parent doesn't approve of one's life choices.

Of course, I love Neruda's poems. No poet writes so beautifully about love. And this little book illuminated the roots of that poetry. So today, for the first Poetry Friday of 2011, I offer you this poem:

YOU WILL REMEMBER

You will remember that leaping stream
where sweet aromas rose and trembled,
and sometimes a bird, wearing water
and slowness, its winter feathers.
You will remember those gifts from the earth:
indelible scents, gold clay,
weeds in the thicket and crazy roots,
magical thorns like swords.
You'll remember the bouquet you picked,
shadows and silent water,
bouquet like a foam-covered stone.
That time was like never, and like always.
So we go there, where nothing is waiting;
we find everything waiting there.

- Pablo Neruda

ONE LITTLE WORD FOR 2011

After much thought and consideration about where I am in my life as the calendar flares "2011," I've made my choice.

For all the words I considered, there was always this one word coming back again and again, like an echo across a wide canyon. You can't ignore something like that. And it's a word that makes sense, too, after a year spent in the more superficial celebratory mode of launching a debut novel.

This year I want something different. This year I want to go...

Deeper in my writing, in my relationships, in my spiritual life. I don't want to get all lazy and stop. I don't want to cave to the multitude of excuses that come with a life that chock-full.

This year I want to keep going, keep pushing, even when it gets itchy and tight and my stomach starts to lurch.

This year I will embrace the itch, create the burn, take more risks. This year I'm going deeper. And I'll share some of my experiences, here, with you, my friends in cyberspace.

Now. What about you? Have you chosen your one little word? I'd love to hear about it!

2010 BY THE NUMBERS

You may recall that every year I choose one little word to be my focal point. I'm not sure yet what my word will be for 2011, but I can tell you that 2010's word was "celebrate."

And celebrate I did!

Delivering a debut novel to the world has been a grand adventure. I've learned so much about myself and met so many wonderful people I would never have known otherwise. I am so grateful.

Here's the hard data an intense look at my calendar revealed:

100 + formal presentations
11 states
30 schools
16 bookstores
13 libraries
9 conferences
3 quilt guilds
3 Skype visits
2 book festivals

and

10,000 + miles on my van!

So many fantastic moments... some heartbreakers, too. Ups and downs and all-arounds.

Was it worth it?

This came up on the Class of 2k10 listsrv recently, because book promotion is such a confusing world to navigate, and because we live in a culture that is driven by the one number I didn't list above: number of books sold.

I'm curious about how many books have sold (and how my efforts affect that number), and I look forward to my next royalty statement. But that's not how I measure worth. It is simply ONE indicator of success.

Writing and sharing stories with others, making those human connections-- that's my purpose. And while I don't expect/plan to live another year quite like 2010, I am proud and pleased that I spent so much time these past months in celebration of what I love. Ultimately the measure of worth has to come from within. Only you can answer that question for yourself.

My answer: YES

And THAT is something to celebrate.

LOVE POEM WITH CHRISTMAS LIGHTS

For Christmas Eve Poetry Friday, I thought I'd share a video. Check it out! Then head on over to A Year of Reading for roundup!



and here it is in print:

Love Poem with Christmas Lights
That first Christmas without
your mother, I watched you unpack

a box marked Decorations.
First you unfurled the crumpled garland,

straightened the plaid ribbon
and worked to reshape the swag

into something resembling evergreen.
Then you set about repairing

the broken hooks on plastic ornaments,
broken plastic attached to intact hooks.

And when the Christmas lights failed
to blink, even after you removed

the busted bulbs and twisted
new ones in their place, you shook

your head and said, I can’t fix this.
Then you gently placed the lights

back inside the box, gathered wrench
and ratchet, began to build our son a bike.

- Irene Latham

from THE COLOR OF LOST ROOMS

EARLY CHRISTMAS PRESENT

...and her name is Ruby!

OVERLOOKED BOOKS

Every year there are really excellent books that don't get stars from reviewers or achieve NYT Bestseller status or find the audience who would certainly adore them.

And when you consider these statistics (provided on the listsrv by our new Southern-Breeze co-RA Claudia Pearson), it's not all that surprising that great books slip by unnoticed:
"According to Table 1 /American Book Production, 2004-2009, on pages 484-485, in 2009 the number of children's book titles published was 21,878, and the number of young adult book titles published was 4,644.
These are preliminary numbers and do not indicate how many were work for hire texts."

The market is so big that only a small number can rise to the public's attention. (MOCKINGJAY, anyone?) It's enough to break a book-loving girl's heart. When I read a book I love, but no one seems to have heard of it, it gives me that shout-it-from-the-rooftops feeling. I want everyone else to share my joy. And there's something American about it too -- rooting for the underdog.

So here's two of my favorite books from 2010 that you may not have heard of:
SEA by Heidi R. Kling (contemporary YA, romance, exotic locale)

BIRTHMARKED by Caraugh O'Brien (dystopian, first of series, amazing world-building)




Did YOU read any overlooked books this year? If so, give 'em a shout-out!

POETRY GIVEAWAY!

As we move into 2011, I am thinking POETRY! Of course I am pretty much always thinking poetry, but you know. I'm thinking it extra right now. And as there are a number of poetry books with giveaways at Goodreads -- THE COLOR OF LOST ROOMS among them -- well, it seemed worth of a blog post.

I am SO EXCITED to deliver this book to the world... would love for one of my faithful readers to win. Good luck!

Goodreads Book Giveaway

The Color of Lost Rooms

by Irene Latham

Giveaway ends December 31, 2010.

See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.

Enter to win

GINGERBREAD AND SUGARPLUMS

How 'bout this sweet little gingerbread village?? Adorable, and so much fun with some sweet girls in my life:
Vonda, who awarded prizes that had us howling!
Lisa, whose cute ornament I was so very happy to win in the ornament exchange. It's now sparkling on my tree.
Randee, who decided to decorate a wee village we all thought belonged in the Appalachian foothills.
Lori and Trina, who teamed up to create this charmer... talk about curb appeal!
Martha, who got out of the ghetto this year! Here she is being all Vanna White.
And the Grand Dame of the Party, Phyllis, who brought lace and buttons and little blinky candles! She was SO CUTE when she dashed over to add a sprinkle of powdered sugar for a lovely snowy touch.

To Carol, Sally, Julie & Rhonda: we missed you!! Looking forward to next year. :)

LIFE IS A SERIES OF PRESENTATIONS

So, in my effort to continue to be the best presenter I can be, I read this book by Tony Jeary.

I sort of wish I'd read it a long time ago. As it is, I found it validating, in that I already do a lot of the things recommended here. Like scope out the room early to reduce the "surpirse" element, involve the audience, keep a "Presentations Arsenal" of quotes, stories, statistics, visuals, etc. to enhance your presentations.

But I did pick up a few new tips:

Tell the audience "why" your message is important. This focuses not only you, but the audience.

Start with a bang and get right to the meat of your message because "most audiences spend the first 3 minutes of the presentation sizing up the presenter."

Use "breathing spaces" to allow your audience an oportunity to reflect on what you've just said. This can be taking a sip of water, whipping out a great prop, asking for audience participation.

Make people feel smart, not stupid. In other words, don't ask them questions hoping they won't know the answer. Frame your information in a way that reduces that discomfort. "When possible, set your audience up to win."

Use an evaluation tool to not only help you improve your presentation in the future, but also to provide a takeaway to reinforce your message.

Happy presenting, all!

THE CHRISTMAS CARD YOU WON'T BE GETTING

Ummm, yeah. Youngest son was not feeling the Joy at the tree farm this year. And now we have this picture to remember the day FOREVER.

Thanks, Eric, for making us laugh. A lot.

We love you even when you're grumpy. :)

SOMETHING JESUS SAID

So I was reading this article in Ode Magazine by Rabbi Rami called Standing Barefoot before God about the "agony and ecstasy of writing as a spiritual practice."

Rabbi Rami cites the Gospel According to Thomas:

"Don't cease seeking until you find. When you find you will be troubled. When you're troubled, you will marvel. And when you marvel, you will reign over all."

I wish there was a cyber link to this article. Instead I guess y'all will have to go out and buy the magazine instead!

Or, even better: GO OUT AND MARVEL.

Speaking of marveling...the lovely spiderweb photograph is by my amazing sis Lynn Baker. We are producing some postcard swag for THE COLOR OF LOST ROOMS that include her photo and my poem "The Faith of Spiders."

Stay tuned!

THE BEST PART OF THE ZOO

Not the flamigos, although Stella in my new book DON'T FEED THE BOY really loves them -- and they are gorgeous.
Not the gorillas, although I do love the story of the Birmingham Zoo's Babec, who is no longer with us except in spirit.
Not the macaws, although wow were they talkative this visit! And colorful, as ever.
Not the zebras, which were way too busy enjoying their hay to pay us much attention.
Not even this guy, who posed just for me.
THIS FELLA. He's the one.

So, yes, part of our Thanksgiving holiday included a trip to the zoo. I'm so excited about TRAILS OF AFRICA, coming Spring of 2011. Meanwhile, I do believe it is still National Family Stories Month. Which means I have a prompt for you:

Share a story about an encounter with a wild animal (human or otherwise!).

Tell your story.