Ten Block Walk

So it's 2012

2012-01-26T18:42:00.000-05:00

...and my blog has been sorely neglected! (For excuses, I offer you a bout of bronchitis-turned-to-near-pneumonia that took me down for most of November and December; NCTE; Thanksgiving and Christmas travel; general holiday madness; and an enormous pile of submissions that only gets larger, no matter how much reading I do.) So sorry, dear friends. Mostly, I have been busy, busy, busy making books. But I've been writing lots of blog posts in my head of late, so I hope to share some of those with you very soon.

But in the meanwhile, here are a few assorted (and some much-belated) tidbits from this editor's life to catch you up to date.

1. I bought two amazing books from The Intern, and cannot wait to introduce her incredible voice to the YA world! Here's the "official" write-up from Publishers Weekly, or you can hear more about it on her blog.

In a two-book pre-empt, Molly O’Neill at HarperCollins’s Katherine Tegen Books bought North American rights to Hilary Smith’s YA debut, Midnight at the Radio Temple. Laura Rennert at the Andrea Brown Literary Agency said the novel, which is scheduled for summer 2013, is a coming-of-age story about a teenage musician who uncovers shocking family secrets during “an unforgettable summer of love and chaos, music and madness.” Smith was behind the formerly anonymous publishing blog, The Intern (www.internspills.blogspot.com), in which she chronicled toiling away as an unpaid laborer in the editorial department at a nameless publishing house; the blog became something of an industry phenomenon in 2009, drawing, at its height, 10,000 visits per month.

2. The exceedingly lovely readers of Goodreads chose Veronica Roth's DIVERGENT as their favorite book of the year, the top award in the annual Goodreads Choice Awards. Cue a beaming editor. (Speaking of DIVERGENT, did you know it's only 95 days till INSURGENT comes out?)

3. I have some amazing books coming out in 2012, and I'm working on some fantastic projects for 2013 right now, too. I'll tell you about them in due course (i.e., I won't torture you too much by telling you about things you can't read yet), but in the meanwhile, I've just got to say that my authors and illustrators are some of the hardest-working and most brilliant and talented people I know.

4. My beloved alma mater Marquette University just did a career profile on me in their alumni magazine, which makes me feel ridiculously grown-up and reminds me just how lucky I am to have my dream job. If you'd like, you can read it here.

5. I'm thinking about starting a (semi-) regular blog series higlighting books about the craft of writing. I get asked for recommendations a lot at writers' conferences and thought it might make good blog fodder. Would that be of interest? Shout-out in the comments if so.

Okay, more soon, I pinky-swear! And until then, you can find me on a much more regular basis on Twitter.

Writing Motivation

2011-11-17T11:52:00.000-05:00

This site is pure genius. Enjoy!

A must-read essay on creative failures

2011-11-08T00:33:00.001-05:00

This blog post by Sara Zarr--who I happen to think is one of the most powerful writers of books for teens of our present moment in literary history--about the inspiration that comes from creative failure is powerful and honest and true, just like all of her books. (And for the record, I don't have anything to do with the publication of said books. I'm just a fangirl.) It's a guest post on the blog of Nova Ren Suma, also a young adult author and a pretty darn spectacular source of inspiration herself!

So, go! Read! Appreciate! Soak in the wisdom! And get inspired.....

"Middle school is a place with a lot of stories"

2011-11-03T07:05:00.010-04:00

"Middle school is when kids open up to the world; it's when they think about bigger things, and they haven't formed their opinions on things yet...everything's up for grabs, which is amazing to be around."--Ira Glass

If you write for middle graders (or if you're pondering what distinguishes YA and middle grade), this episode of This American Life is solid gold in terms of digging into to the emotional lives and pressures and perspectives of middle schoolers. (Many thanks to writer Mike Martin for the link.)

Resurrecting Poetry Friday: "24th September 1945"

2011-10-28T22:05:00.009-04:00

It's been far too long since I was regular about Poetry Fridays on the blog. But something about the chill of autumn makes me poem-hungry. This weekend's weather forecast, in particular, looks just right for curling up on the couch with a blanket and a cup of tea (or maybe a glass of wine?) and losing myself in words....

Here's one I'd never run across until today. Doing a little research on the poet makes it all the more fascinating. Apparently he was a Turkish "romantic communist" who spend much of his life in prison. And knowing that, suddenly the underlying desolation of these words comes into a different, sharper focus! (Editor's aside: Setting. It can change everything!)

And the sentiment--it seems simple at first, but then I can't seem to stop thinking about it. I wonder...what was the significance of the title's date--was it some big newsworthy event, or just a date of special, personal meaning? And did the poet ever get to say the words he wanted to say? And what happened when he did??

"24th September 1945"

by Nâzım Hikmet Ran

The most beautiful sea: has yet to be crossed.

The most beautiful child: has yet to be born.

Our most beautiful days: have yet to be lived;

and the best word that I wanted to say to you

is the word that I have not yet said.

Inspiration of the Day/Week/Month/Year

2011-09-29T00:26:00.001-04:00

Ira Glass on Storytelling from David Shiyang Liu on Vimeo.

A CHRISTMAS GOODNIGHT: An Editorial Love Story

2011-09-27T18:20:00.002-04:00

Merry Christmas in September!
Today's the book birthday for A Christmas Goodnight!

Once upon a time, an author named Nola Buck wrote the text for a new Christmas picture book. It was so perfect that HarperCollins bought it right up, and then patiently waited to find the perfect illustrator to bring its warmth and wonder to life.

Once upon a time, an artist named Sarah Jane Wright had a dream, and a goal, and she was determined to get there.

And once upon a time, a newly-minted assistant editor (read: Yours Truly) told her then-boss that she thought perhaps there was lots of undiscovered illustrator talent to be found on a new-ish crafting website called Etsy. That boss had never heard of Etsy--it was only two years old back then, and it wasn't very well known yet--but she was a big fan of discovering talent in non-traditional places, so she was encouraging about the possibility. So the young editor spent lots of time paging through artwork on Etsy (and okay, if we're being totally honest here, also a fair bit of time getting distracted by pretty earrings in the process), but there was one artist whose work she kept coming back to, over and over, because it was clear that there were stories inside of the artwork, waiting to come alive. So one day in the fall of 2007, she sent that artist a note, asking if she'd ever thought about illustrating children's books. Happily, the artist replied that Yes! She had always wanted to illustrate children's books! A lot of emails followed. A lot of learning and growing happened, on both sides of the desk. Nearly two full years later, this delightful moment happened. And then, after a lot of work, this one. And then, finally, nearly four years to the day after that first email, today, finally, this moment arrived, full of joy, and thanks to all of you for sharing in it by reading this post. And kids' books aficionados, Sarah Jane Wright is an illustrator whose name you should remember, because she's just getting started, and our industry is lucky to have her in it! Each time Sarah Jane and I talk, she inspires me: with her strong sense of balance, with the faith and vision that guide her work and her growing, worldwide brand, and with the abiding joy she finds in the acts of creativity, mothering, and meaningful daily living--check out her blog and I know you'll enjoy "meeting" her, too.

I could look at this illustration for hours and still not stop smiling!

(An important aside, especially to the still-aspiring: sometimes creative success stories tend to make it sound like everything happens magically, and overnight. It usually doesn't, as I think that the years between Sarah Jane's "discovery" and contract and now-finished book evidence: talent is most often simply a place of beginning, not an end unto itself.)

Adding Sarah Jane's debut artistic talent to a pitch-perfect text written by veteran author Nola Buck was a perfect bookmaking match, and that sort of established + beginner pairing is a long-standing practice in the children's book industry. From a marketing point of view, matching up a veteran and a newbie makes perfect sense: it brings an automatic audience to the beginner, since there are readers who will automatically seek out the established creator's next project, and, hopefully, it brings a new flair or style or dimension to the veteran's work, adding yet another layer to the appreciation that readers have for it. And one of the amazingly wonderful things about the kids' book world is how collaborative it is, and the way that nearly every author and illustrator, no matter how lauded, still remembers what it felt like to be just starting, and genuinely wants to help others succeed, so it's often the start of a friendship and sometimes a long-standing creative pairing, too.

For those of you who find publishing trivia interesting, Nola Buck is the pen name for long-time children's book editor Laura Godwin. (She also sometimes writes under her own name, too.) It's been both humbling and exciting to go through the bookmaking process alongside an author who has, herself, edited so many fantastic books into being. But before she ever wrote the text for A Christmas Goodnight, Laura/Nola was already the author of another perennial Christmas classic, Christmas in the Manger, a book that introduces the characters of the Nativity story in the simplest of ways, for the very youngest readers. Her text for A Christmas Goodnight is wonderful because it reintroduces the Christmas story for a slightly older reader (especially one who read/listened to Christmas in the Manger in previous years, but is now ready for a more advanced understanding of the holiday). The story has a wonderful circularity to it that you'll see reflected in Sarah's illustrations: it melds the familiar Nativity story with the holiday celebrations of a contemporary family, helping young readers see the connections between the long-ago Christmas story and their own lives. And it's such a sweet, memorable text (without being at all saccharine, which is a hard balance to achieve!) that for the past few years, I've found myself reciting it in my head all through the holiday season--over and over and over, which I think is perhaps one of the highest compliments I could pay to an author.

There's something about a picture book that makes the publishing process seem all the more profound and miraculous, maybe because picture books are the very first encounter that some readers will ever have with books and stories. Seeing this story emerge from the fingertips and keyboards and colored pencils of Laura and Sarah has been a treasure. In fact, it's hard to say which story I love more: the story-behind-the-story of this book's making, or the book itself! And I admit that I'm biased when I say that I think they've created a perfect book that's just waiting to become a part of many families' holiday traditions, year after year, but hey--Publishers Weekly agrees! So if you're looking for a special Christmas gift to share with family and friends come December, put A Christmas Goodnight on your list to check out at your library or buy at your local bookstore. I think you'll find that it's the perfect holiday goodnight book for reading and sharing with those you love. (And don't worry, I'll remind you again when the holidays get closer, when there will be lots more Christmas Goodnight fun happening at Sarah's blog!)

Goodnight, goodnight to all!

On unicycles, basketball, and good storytelling

2011-09-24T17:26:00.007-04:00

A few weeks ago, I was spending the day with some friends out on Governor's Island when we ran across something I had never even imagined existed. Here, I'll let you experience it as I did:

Hey, cool. Dudes on unicycles.

Wait a minute. Are they playing...basketball?? On unicycles?!

Um, yeah, that's precisely what they're doing. Basketball. On unicycles.

Camera phone pictures don't quite do it justice, though. So here's some video (not my own) I found online, from the same day, and from two slightly different vantage points.

Amazing stuff, eh? (Can you imagine the core strength these guys must have?)

And as unlikely as it seems, Unicycle Basketball perfectly illustrates a writing/craft concept I've been discussing lately with several authors and illustrators. There's no particular name for it, but basically: one trick of masterful writing and illustrating and storytelling is that it brings together things that totally don't seem like they have anything to do with each other at first, but by the story's end, they've been woven together so well that absolutely feel connected.

Because the thing is: basketball being played by a bunch of guys on a Saturday afternoon? Honestly, I probably wouldn't have paid much attention. A bunch of grown men on unicycles? Ok, I would have paid a little more attention, but really just for a minute, for the novelty of it. But grown men on unicycles playing basketball? I watched, I snapped photos, I came home and googled "unicycle basketball" to discover that yes, in fact, it's a thing, and weeks later, I was still thinking about it enough to want to blog about it. Why?

Because it showed me something new. Because it connected two things I'd never dreamed could be connected, and in doing so, made my understanding of the world a little bigger, a little broader, a little more interesting. Watch those video clips. At first it's crazy, but by the end of the clip, it starts to seem totally normal, wholly believable, that they're playing basketball on unicycles, with crowds of supportive fans watching. Who would've thought it, and yet...it works. It totally works.

Sometimes stories can be crafted in a way that's too linear, too obvious. If you put in only ingredients that have obvious links from the start, the resulting story can become easy to predict, to anticipate. There's a place for that kind of storytelling; don't get me wrong. In some stories, trying to bring in extra disconnected elements would ruin the rhythm entirely. But other times, those seemingly disconnected elements can ultimately add new layers that take a story to places that are more thought-provoking, more memorable, or just more fun. And if it's done right, by the story's end, you can't even separate which of the elements is the odd ingredient anymore, because they've been blended in a way that can't be undone without ruining the story as a whole. In other words, success!

Unicycle basketball WIN.

Want some concrete examples? Off the top of my head, I'm tossing out Mo Willems' Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus (small avian creature + urban transportation + high-minded career ambition); The Year the Swallows Came Early by Kathryn Fitzmaurice (cooking + seasonal migration + incarceration); Breadcrumbs by Anne Ursu (friendship + fairytales + baseball); and The Truth About Forever by Sarah Dessen (death + romantic heartbreak + the catering industry).

P.S. I'd love to hear examples--or further thoughts from all of you on Unicyle Basketball and its relationship to storytelling--in the comments section!

I dare you not to cry

2011-09-15T19:32:00.002-04:00

Lovable protagonists.
Despicable antagonist.
Character, character, character! (And VOICE!)
Romance. Friendship.
Emotion-stirring events.
Far-reaching universality.
Precisely-chosen details that telegraph something far bigger than themselves.
An account that touches your perspective and adds to your own experience of living.

...in short, I think this might be one of the most perfect examples of storytelling I've ever seen:

Book recommendation: THE NIGHT CIRCUS

2011-09-13T12:12:00.001-04:00

Before I'm an editor, I'm a reader. Or I guess another way to phrase it would be, I'm an editor because I'm a reader. In any case, every now and then, you find a book that you just have to shout about to every other reader in the world, you know? And happily enough, I have a blog, which helps me to do precisely that, on occasion. :)

(In short: you should probably buy this book. Or you should go
beat everyone else at your library to checking it out. Hurry!)

The Night Circus is a book that I fell head over heels in love with with as a reader a few months ago, when I got the lucky chance to grab an early copy. I've been telling people ever since that it's the best book I've read for adults in years, and I promise there's no hyperbole involved in that statement! I truly can't think of the last time I enjoyed a book as a reader as much as I did this one. Oh, and let me be clear, since I most often talk on this blog about books I've played some role in developing: I had *absolutely zero* part in making this book--I can take credit for none of its magic. But I applaud all those who did work on this book, especially its lovely author Erin Morgenstern, and her editor and agent, because they've brought to life a story that is positively bursting with magic. The Night Circus is a tale that's alive with wonder and possibility; it's a mesmerizing love story, and it's rich with sensory detail and fascinating characters (I haven't wanted to eat book food this bad since the first time I read the Narnia books and hungered to try Turkish delight). Best of all, it does one of the things I love most in a story: it creates a sense of place that feels so vivid and real and absolutely essential to the story's telling that the setting is practically becomes a character of its own.

Curious to know more? Here's the blurb from the jacket (and if you read it, come back and tell me if you enjoyed it as much as I did!):

The circus arrives without warning. No announcements precede it. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not. Within the black-and-white striped canvas tents is an utterly unique experience full of breathtaking amazements. It is called Le Cirque des Rêves, and it is only open at night.

But behind the scenes, a fierce competition is underway—a duel between two young magicians, Celia and Marco, who have been trained since childhood expressly for this purpose by their mercurial instructors. Unbeknownst to them, this is a game in which only one can be left standing, and the circus is but the stage for a remarkable battle of imagination and will. Despite themselves, however, Celia and Marco tumble headfirst into love—a deep, magical love that makes the lights flicker and the room grow warm whenever they so much as brush hands. True love or not, the game must play out, and the fates of everyone involved, from the cast of extraordinary circus performers to the patrons, hang in the balance, suspended as precariously as the daring acrobats overhead.

Written in rich, seductive prose, this spell-casting novel is a feast for the senses and the heart.

You Tell Me: One Book (to rule them all)

2011-08-29T20:27:00.001-04:00

I was chatting with one of my talented book creators today, and as we work toward narrowing in and understanding what her next book is trying to become, intriguingly, we both--separately--found ourselves asking the the same question: if she could only ever publish one more book, what would she want it to be about?

Interesting how it's a question with the kind of urgency that brings all of one's creative efforts into a new light, isn't it? (Warning: it can turn your efforts unnecessarily earnest, too, and that's not always the right answer for every writer, so take the whole question with some salt).

In any case, I'm turning it over to you to mull over in the comments, or just for yourself independently: if you got only one shot--or only one more shot--at this whole publishing thing, what would that One Book (TO RULE THEM ALL Ahem. Couldn't resist! I blame my brothers.) be about? And once you've found that answer, how does knowing it affect your creative process?

And does this picture make you giggle as much as it does me?

Magic moments & Christmas in August!

2011-08-16T13:44:00.000-04:00

There are certain moments of sheer magic in book-making. One of my all-time favorite ones is when the very first printed copy of a newly-finished book shows up at my desk. It's pretty much a given that whenever this happens, I'll lose more than a few minutes to pouring over it, and petting it, and most of all, parading it around to colleagues while exclaiming over and over, "Look! Look! It's a real book!" (And oh, world of e-books, you are fascinating in many ways, but I can't imagine you'll ever have a moment that will quite measure up to this hands-on experience!)

There's a lot of editorial delight and pride at seeing the hard work of my authors and illustrators all added up—from the very earliest rough drafts and sketches, to knowing well the months and years' worth of revisions that followed—and finally transformed into the tangible reality. But I suspect that my delight can't even begin to compare to an even more magical moment: when the author or illustrator gets to see their very first copy of their book.

Since I haven't yet figured out how to be a fly on the wall when those packages arrive to the homes of my far-flung authors and artists, though, the power of the internet gives us the next best thing.Wanna live the magic vicariously? Then check out this delightful post from debut illustrator Sarah Jane Wright. And definitely take the extra minute to watch the short video clip of Sarah sharing her very first book with her kids for the very first time—it will leave you smiling all day! Not only does that video capture a once-in-a-career moment for this illustrator, it's a wonderful insight into how little people see and experience stories. Watching books be loved by young readers—that's the most magical moment of all!

Summer (Vacation) Reading List

2011-06-20T01:31:00.006-04:00

I head out on vacation in a few short weeks (once we're past ALA, that is, where I hope to see some of you fine folk). But it's never too early to start thinking about what books I should take on vacation with me! Here's what I'm planning so far:

(I always like to take a volume of poetry on vacation, because I find few things more luxurious than whiling away a summer afternoon overlooking the ocean with a glass of wine and a book of poetry. And though I know and love her "greatest hits," I'm curious to see what I think of lesser-known Millay.)

(You better believe I'm going to do whatever it takes to get my grubby little hands on this at ALA, b/c if it's anything like Anna and the French Kiss, it'll be the perfect vacation read.)

(A colleague whose taste and editorial skills I quite admire edited Breadcrumbs, and I've been wanting to read it since the moment I heard about it--but I've been waiting till I had time to really savor it. It's a retelling of The Snow Queen. I adore retellings and The Snow Queen is my very favorite fairytale (so heartbreaking! so magical!), so I am primed to love this.

(Is it redundant to read travel writing while traveling? Perhaps, but both my editor self and my rookie travel writer self are excited for this one. "A sense of place" is one of the things I fall hardest for in any kind of writing, so a book devoted to that idea itself sounds delicious. Add that to it being a volume of general inspiration and craft-talk by some travel writing greats, and I'm totally sold.)

So that's a start, but I think I might have room in my bags for just a few more books. So...help me out! What have you read lately--any genre!--that was un-put-downable, or that made you stop and think, or that made you laugh, or that you just flat-out loved?

Yes.

2011-05-19T15:55:00.000-04:00

This.

That is all.

DIVERGENT: An Editorial Love Story

2011-05-10T20:11:00.003-04:00

(2011 marks the year that books that I've both acquired & edited begin making their way out into the world, so this is the second post in a new blog series: editorial love stories! Hope you'll enjoy reading some behind-the-scenes tidbits about the books I've been busy making.)

I'm a few days late with this post since I was traveling last week, but I trust that its author will forgive my tardiness.

I'm here today to tell you that a little over a year ago, I fell in love with a manuscript, and I fell in love with it hard. Like, up-all-night-reading-it love. Like, thinking-about-it-nonstop love. Like, holy-crap-I-can't-wait-for-the-whole-world-to-get-to-read-this-too love. (Which, really, is how editorial love always feels, but that doesn't make the heart-pounding giddiness any less wonderful each time that it happens.) Fast-forward one very busy year of editing and book-making later and I'm delighted that it's finally the whole world's turn to fall in love with DIVERGENT.

And so that I'm not just repeating myself all over the internet, I'll point you toward this interview and also to this one--in both of them, I share in-depth details about the thrilling experience of acquiring and editing this book. Here on my own blog, I'll just say this: every editor should have the joy of working on book like DIVERGENT, where an incredible story is matched by equally-incredible writing, and happiest of all, by a truly incredible author. Veronica Roth regularly teaches me wise things about storytelling, and about being a remarkable human being who lives her life with both simplicity and great intention. I'm humbled and honored to work alongside her as she creates her books.

Want to help celebrate the publication of DIVERGENT? Well, then, here's a few things you can do:

1. Follow Veronica's blog, where she regularly posts things both funny and profound. Ditto her Twitter account.
2. Check out the book trailer, as well as this clip of Veronica talking about DIVERGENT.
3. Start making plans now to attend one of Veronica's book signings in Canada in May, or as part of the Dark Days tour in June. (Or ALA Annual if you're a librarian or NCTE/ALAN if you're an English teacher.)
4. Find out which faction you'd be by taking the quiz on the DIVERGENT Facebook page (where you can stay up-to-date on exciting DIVERGENT news!)
5. Buy a copy of DIVERGENT! Or, start by reading a free sample. (Just don't say that I didn't warn you that this book might cause your own up-all-night-reading, can't-stop-thinking-about-it love story!)

A sneak peek

2011-04-05T23:46:00.005-04:00

I'm saving my editorial love story about Veronica Roth's Divergent until the book comes out next month (on May 3rd! Mark your calendars, or better yet, place your pre-orders!)

But in the meanwhile, since May 3rd seems way too far away right now . . . how about a teaser? You can read the first 100 or so pages of Divergent by clicking on the "Browse Inside" option below:

Dear Writers and Artists of SCBWI-Iowa

2011-03-31T02:37:00.000-04:00

I am coming to meet you! Like, tomorrow. Like, I should be packing my suitcase right now instead of blogging (but I despise packing, so here I am). But I am quite looking forward to meeting you all, despite the fact that it will eventually involve packing. See you soon!

P.S. to writers and artists who aren't in Iowa: keep an eye on the "Places We Might Meet" list on the sidebar. I'll made some updates and will hopefully be adding another conference or two soon.

Vacation, vicariously. And also, writing.

2011-03-16T02:08:00.009-04:00

I confess, it's a mite hard to come back to work after a week's vacation involving peaceful, miles-away-from-NYC moments like this:

and blazingly lovely sunsets over distant mountain-tops like this.

Okay, but I also confess that I'm leaving out all the days and nights where it rained and rained and rained, making highly-anticipated events like late night ghost stories around a campfire wholly impossible. (Despite the lovely fire pit that taunted us daily with its too-damp firewood.)

This weather tragedy, in turn, forced us to use up an entire bag of jumbo marshmallows playing Chubby Bunny instead of using them for s'mores/toasting purposes. And oh, how I would love to post those photos, but Travel Companion would disown me if I did so, given that few people look entirely flattering with nine jumbo marshmallows stuffed in their mouths. (For the record, I wussed out after six jumbo marshmallows, but mostly because I was laughing too hard to continue.)

But despite too much rain, a happy and creatively fulfilling vacation was enjoyed. And despite the foreboding signs that warned us that The Lone Zombie might be lurking in the woods around us,

(Beware of prowling zombies!)

we stumbled (err, deliberately off-roaded in the rental car) our way into some delightfully unanticipated scenic overlooks.

All of which reminds me of one of my favorite quotes (if you've heard the "Traveler or Tourist" talk I sometimes give at writers' conferences, you've heard this one before):

“Happiness on holiday often only comes when we get lost—in the alleys behind the great museum, in a market off the Grand Canal, in olive groves beyond the guidebook recommended town. We are suddenly among people that are not “extras” in a travelogue, but simply themselves. We shed our tourist guise and rediscover living.”— Australian poet Pam Brown

I'm convinced that the best traveling memories are often found in the moments we do not (and usually cannot) plan. The moments where we "get lost." Or when we're forced away from our plans entirely--say, by rain or zombies or an alluring not-quite-a path, wanting to be explored.

And so very often, the same premise holds true in writing, too. (You knew I'd bring all this back around to books and writing and editing somehow, didn't you?) Sometimes, it's the wholly unplanned-for plot twists, the previously-unanticipated character developments, the subtle details that were never even conceived-of in your outline or original draft, that come to matter most. They can slip in quietly but become critical elements or perfect lines or most-beloved scenes in a book. And when you're forced to discard your initial perceptions of what you thought a story would be, sometimes you get the delight of seeing it transform into something else--something more fully alive and blazingly memorable than you even initially imagined it could be. (Okay, the truth is, sometimes unanticipated tangents are just dead-ends or rabbit holes that lead you wildly, unproductively astray. But I hope that at least sometimes, you also get the glorious kind of unplanned results, too!)

So, you tell me--what's one of your best entirely unplanned-but-memorable traveling stories? Or, for the writers--one of your completely-unexpected-but-later-deemed-brilliant story shifts that changed everything about what you thought you were writing? Or both? Tell me in the comments!

A Dog's Way Home: An Editorial Love Story

2011-03-01T12:53:00.001-05:00

(2011 marks the year that books that I've both acquired & edited begin making their way out into the world, so consider this the start of a new blog series: editorial love stories! Hope you'll enjoy reading some behind-the-scenes tidbits about these books I've been busy making.)

Today's a special day. It's the official publication date for Bobbie Pyron's middle grade debut, A Dog's Way Home! I like to say that A Dog's Way Home is a love story, the kind that warms your heart and leaves you happy for days after reading it. But it’s a tween book, so this isn’t about sparkly vampires, or dark, sexy werewolves; this is about the love between a loyal dog and his beloved owner, both of whom are determined to find one another after being separated at opposite ends of the Blue Ridge Parkway.

Daddy says, "Most folks got a north star in their life—something that

gives their life extra meaning. Mine is music."

Without even thinking, I say, "Mine is Tam."

Abby knows that Tam, her Shetland sheepdog, is her north star, and she's pretty certain she's his, too. But when an accident separates Abby and Tam, it feels as though all the stars have fallen out of the sky and nothing will ever be right again. As the days between them turn to weeks, then months, dangers and changes fill up Abby's and Tam's lives. Will they ever find their way home to each other?

Set in the Blue Ridge Mountains, A Dog's Way Home is an unforgettable tale of the many miles, months, and mountains that divide two loyal friends—but that can't possibly keep them apart.

To celebrate the publication of this positively wonderful book, I thought I'd share some bits of the book-making story-behind-the-story of A Dog's Way Home, from the editor's side of the desk. I first met Bobbie, and read the opening pages of the book that would become A Dog's Way Home, at the Utah SCBWI Conference in 2008. Yes, this is one of those wonderful SCBWI Conference success stories! As I recall it, I actually didn't have a lot of comments to offer to Bobbie, and I was worried she might think she wasn't getting her full money's worth at her manuscript critique session. But the reason for my lack of comments was a good one, at least in this editor's mind: Bobbie had given me some of the most polished manuscript pages for critique that I've ever seen (and I've seen hundreds and hundreds)! We talked a little bit about starting the story in the exact right place: the pages she'd given me began the story with what is now Chapter Two, where (mild spoiler alert!) Something Tragic Happens. I suggested to Bobbie that such a scene might have more impact if we saw a bit of the "Before" for the characters first, so that we'd already know and care about them, and thus be more affected as readers, when that Something Tragic Happens to them. At the end of our session, I told Bobbie that I'd like to read more of her manuscript when it was ready, and she replied that she'd been thinking about trying to get an agent. I told her that based on what I'd read of her book, she was absolutely ready for that step.

Months passed. Actually, more than a full year passed. (Publishing means patience on both sides of the desk!)

During that time, though I didn't know it, Bobbie found and signed with a literary agent who loved her story, and they worked hard to make parts of it even stronger. When her agent submitted the manuscript to me, it had a different title than it had when I first encountered it (though neither of those ended up as the book's final title), but something about the description sounded familiar, and within a few pages, I knew why! It was the same story I'd read pages of at that Utah Conference, and I was delighted to finally get to read more. There was so much I instantly loved about the entire story: the southern flavor, the mountain musicality to the writing, the descriptive language, the vivid imagery, and most of all, the way two voices (first-person Abby and third-person Tam) alternated chapters to tell a story that, when blended together, was more complete than it ever could have been with just one point-of-view. I was even more delighted when my boss loved the story as much as I did, and when our Acquisitions Committee did, too. All of us could see this book being one that readers would read over and over, in the same way generations of readers have loved other stories about animal loyalty, like The Incredible Journey or Lassie Come-Home, and we were proud and pleased when Bobbie accepted our offer to publish it. Editors are often asked about their "wishlist," about the themes and topics they're seeking. Just as often, you'll hear us reply that it's hard to know exactly what we're looking for--until we find a story that we know we can't live without! I didn't know I was looking for a dog book, but I couldn't be prouder to have this one on my list!

Now here's the funny thing. I like dogs. But I’ve never quite been what you’d call a dog person. We had a dog growing up, but he was more my brothers' dog than mine. And I've had friends whose whole lives have been changed by getting a dog, but that's something I never imagined would happen for me--especially living in a tiny apartment in Brooklyn with a firm "no pets!" rule. Working on A Dog's Way Home changed something for me, though. Somewhere in the midst of the rounds of editing it, I realized I was starting to pay attention to dogs differently. I was noticing them in a way I never had, seeing them sitting outside of coffee shops and restaurants, and on street corners, as they often do in a walkable neighborhood like mine. And I was doing more than noticing them: I was pausing to say hello; I was wondering what inner dialogue was going through their minds as they waited patiently (or not) for their owners. Most of all, I was stopping to observe their interactions with their owners on the streets of Brooklyn and Manhattan. That’s the power of A Dog's Way Home—it makes you understand, so vividly, the bond that exists between dogs and their people. And really, that's the power of a good book, right? It changes something inside of you, so that you're not quite the same person you were before, once you've read it. And so I thank Bobbie Pyron for changing me--for turning me into more of a dog person than I ever dreamed I'd be, all through the power of her storytelling! A book-dog like Tam...perhaps that’s the dog for a city girl like me. It doesn’t need me to walk it, or a big apartment—it just needs readers who will find it and take it home and love it as much as I do. And oh, I hope that you'll be one of those readers, because I think everyone should have the chance to fall in love with this book and its tribute to loyalty, to perseverence, and to having profound faith in those we love.

Want to help celebrate the publication of A Dog's Way Home? Well, then, here's a few things you can do:

1. Follow Bobbie Pyron's blog: currently she's running a great series of interviews with children's book authors and publishing types about the dogs in their lives! (You can read about Gary Schmidt's dog, Kathi Appelt's dog, Kathryn Fitzmaurice's dog, and more!)

2. If you're in the Utah area, make plans to attend Bobbie's first book signing for A Dog's Way Home at The King's English on Saturday, March 12th. I'm told that there might even be some shelties at the event, so it's going to be quite a party!

3. Buy a copy of A Dog's Way Home for an animal lover in your life, young or old. Buy another copy for yourself, and settle in for a heartwarming read. Yes, there will be some tear-jerker moments, but don't worry, all those scarred by books like Where the Red Fern Grows...this dog doesn't die!

4. Spread the word! Great books need great readers to be their champions, and to help them live full lives in bookstores and libraries and in the hands of young readers. So if you read and love A Dog's Way Home--or any book, really--let the world know about it!

5. Go snuggle a pet you love. Or a person you love. Or a book (or manuscript-in-the-making) that you love!

6. Follow Bobbie Pyron on Twitter and wish her a very happy publication day for A Dog's Way Home!

These are the days to remember*

2011-02-19T23:07:00.000-05:00

Today I found this short film (via my pal Storybird), and really, you must stop everything and watch it. It's four minutes and three seconds of pure wonderfulness. Or, as you might also care to see it, it's essentially the heart of many a contemporary YA novel, in under five minutes.

YOUTH from Tommy Petroni on Vimeo.

Sometimes I get reflective, as writerly (and editorly!) types do, and I start poking through my life, looking for connections, because connectivity is a theme that matters a lot to me. And sometimes, like with this video, I just stumble upon the connection, unexpectedly and all in a lovely flash.

As I think I've occasionally mentioned on this blog, before I was an editor, I was a youth minister who worked with teens all across the U.S. and Canada. It was a very different life than the one I have now, but the core is surprisingly the same. And that's a truth I realize again and again, as I uncover the elements that bridge the two: Like building relationships. And helping others to grow and believe. And searching out the heart of what matters. And watching people transform because of the possibilities that they've opened themselves up to. And offering and sharing in no-holds-barred honesty. And most of all, at the core of both are the moments of becoming, like those captured in this video--the moments that are both ordinary and wondrous, the incredible friendships (and betrayals) that shape us, the memories and choices that become indelible part of who we are. Because being a teenager is one of the most powerful, profound, epic, meaningful experiences we'll ever have, as human beings.

I loved working with teens. And I love creating books for them now. Watching this video helps me to remember that: though it's writers and artists and agents and other grown-up publishing folk that I work with most closely now, it's still the readers, the teens and tweens and wee little kiddos, that I'm truly doing it for. The days when we can all remember that--that the books and stories we create are for them, most of all--those are the days when I think we can call this industry its most successful. And I'm so proud and lucky to be a part of it.

Thanks, sixteen-year-old Tommy Petroni, for reminding me.

*Yes, that line, and everything else about this post, also reminds me of this song, which was totally a part of the soundtrack to my own teen years. Anyone else make the mental link between the two?

Hooray for new books!

2011-01-30T22:19:00.001-05:00

I read a fantastic book recently! In fact, it was so good, I read it twice within just a few short weeks. I'm planning to read it many more times, actually. And give it just a little while (till, oh, say, tentatively 2012 or so), and you can read it, too.

Curious?

From PublishersMarketplace: "S.J. Kincaid's INSIGNIA, in which a teenage video gamer becomes a government weapon in a futuristic world at war, to Molly O'Neill at Katherine Tegen Books, in in pre-empt, in a significant deal, in a three-book deal, by David Dunton at Harvey Klinger."

In the meantime, while I get busy editing, head on over to the author's blog to read a truly inspiring tale of one writer's growth and perseverance.

Eight Years In, And Still In Love

2011-01-22T21:12:00.005-05:00

(Warning: annual sappy post ahead!)

When I was growing up, my Dad gave me the same piece of career advice over and over: "Find something you love to do, because you're going to spend a lot of time doing it." (Fun aside: during my first year as an assistant in publishing, as he helped me over the phone with doing my taxes, I reminded my Dad of this comment. His response: "Well, I sure hope you love it, because you're not making any money!" Oh, publishing....) His advice was so very right, though. Life's incredibly fulfilling if you're doing something that you believe in, that you love.

Eight years ago, I started my first job as a Marketing/Publicity Assistant at Clarion Books, which I talked about here, this time last year. A lot's changed in those eight years, even though it's not really all that long ago at all! Somewhere in the eight years, I moved over to HarperCollins, and I was also finally able to make the shift from marketing/publicity into editing, which was so very worth all the scrambling and persistence and backtracking and side-stepping it took to get there. But beyond that, back when I started, publishing's landscape looked pretty different: there were hardly any blogs, there was no Facebook, no Twitter, and even author/illustrator websites were a relatively new phenomenon. There wasn't daily talk of e-books, or e-readers, or digital publishing efforts, either.

As we all are, eight years later, I'm currently watching this industry re-invent itself from the inside-out, and I suspect it won't be the last time I do so in my career. But the thing that mattered most to me when I started that job eight years ago is the same thing that matters most to me today: there were books, incredible ones. (And I got to work on them! And they paid me to do it!) And there were stories, as there always have been and always will be. And there was a long-standing community: a brilliant, welcoming, intensely passionate and intelligent community of authors and illustrators and librarians and literary agents and educators and booksellers and publishing folk and readers. Eight years later, I find so much inspiration and meaning in being a part of that community, and in this Dream Job of mine, which is so much about connections, about passions, about ideas, about children and teens and the books that shape them--and that shape all of us, too, as we go about making them.

This eighth year in publishing is an especially important one for me, because it's the first year in which books that I acquired as an editor (rather than ones that I assisted another, more senior-level editor on, or that I marketed/publicized, back in my previous role) will begin hitting the shelves. In months to come, as their publication dates approach, I'll be sharing some stories of acquiring those books, and of working with their tremendously talented creators--"editorial love stories," if you will, and I hope as readers, many of you will be as enchanted and thrilled and moved by reading those books as I've been during their making.

For now, though, I'm just quietly, abundantly grateful. This business of making books for young readers is one that I believe in with my whole heart, and I'm constantly proud and humbled to be a part of it. Thanks to all of you, who are part of it, too.

Poetry Friday: "A Winter Twilight"

2011-01-07T23:36:00.067-05:00

Every year for the past few years, one of my New Year's Resolutions has been "Read more poetry," and every year, it's been a resolution that's just purely good for me, and keeping it makes me happier, which seems to be the key to successful resolutions. So I'm officially using my first post of 2011 to see if I can get back into the Poetry Friday habit again. Because I'm not sure if y'all have missed it here on the blog, but I have!

"A Winter Twilight"

by Angelina Weld Grimké

(who has quite an interesting history as a writer and playwright during the Harlem Renaissance.)

A silence slipping around like death,

Yet chased by a whisper, a sigh, a breath;

One group of trees, lean, naked, and cold,

Inking their crest 'gainst a sky green-gold;

One path that knows where the corn flowers were;

Lonely, apart, unyielding, one fir;

And over it softly leaning down,

One star that I loved ere the fields went brown.

Ahhh...the cadence of those last two lines is just supremely lovely, and somehow chilling and warming all at the same time. And I love how the poem starts out feeling "big" and all-of-nature-encompassing, but by the end, it's narrowed in to pinpoint a singular, resonant image. Beautiful!

Your central story; My central story

2010-12-31T03:52:00.015-05:00

A few posts back on this blog, you heard me talk about #reverb10, an annual, month-long online reflection project. Here's a bit more about it, from the website:

Reverb 10 is an annual event and online initiative to reflect on your year and manifest what’s next. With Reverb 10 - and the 31 prompts our authors have created for you - you'll have support on your journey.You can commit and start at any time and respond to the prompts in any way you wish - this project is designed for you to discover what needs discovering, however's best for you.

The organizers asked me to contribute one of the month's reflection prompts, and today my prompt goes live for several thousand bloggers and writers to consider. Even if you didn't participate in #reverb10, I think it's a pretty fascinating question to ponder in general, and I welcome your thoughts and responses in the comments section.

December 31 – Core Story. What central story is at the core of you, and how do you share it with the world? (Bonus: Consider your reflections from this month. Look through them to discover a thread you may not have noticed until today.)

Here is what you must know about me: I believe in stories.

I believe they have the power to shape us, to change us, to heal us, to teach us, to connect us. And more.

There are other things that I believe in powerfully and passionately, too--the capacity for faith is a gift that has been alive in me my whole life, manifesting itself differently as I've grown and come to understand it more. (And it took a number of years for me to fully grasp that the things I believe in most won't always resonate or matter in the same way to others, and that that's okay.) But when I attempt to boil everything down to its simplest, most uncomplicated form, over and over, I come back to stories. Stories are universal. Stories are at the core of everything. Stories matter because they help us catalog and clarify our lives and experiences. Stories matter because we matter: I believe stories teach us how to be human--and how to be better humans, more fully human, even. And really, what is more important than that?

It's rare that a week goes by when I don't tell someone (sometimes shyly, sometimes bursting with pride) that I have my dream job. Because as an editor of children's and young adult books, I work with others who believe as I do, that stories matter enormously--and that they matter first and perhaps most, when we are becoming: when we are small children, and then bigger children; and when we are in the awkward stage between being children and being teenagers; and when we are teenagers, and then bigger teenagers; and even when we are in the awkward stage between being teenagers and being adults. In all of those phases, we are becoming the sort of humans we will be, at our core, for the rest of always. And if the stories that I help nurture and produce can ultimately interject more compassion, more hope, more truth into the core of many (or even a few) human beings--then I have more than "a dream job," I have an immensely privileged life.

But the sharing of stories belongs to everyone. And the truth is, we are always becoming, and not only as children or young adults. Because we all need to tell our stories, and we all need to hear stories, too. The stories change, we change--but the need for stories, for narratives by which to guide and inspire and challenge one another, I think that's a constant. Or at least it is for me.

I didn't participate in #reverb10 as much as I intended to this past month.Well...no. Correction. I didn't blog or tweet public responses to the posts as much as I intended to. I pondered each prompt, mulling some over for days internally, discussing others with friends in-person. Most of all, though, I found myself wanting to speak/write less and listen more. And I think that's okay, that there are times to speak and times to be silent and both build us--and our own stories--up in different ways. Here is what I did more than I expected to this past month, though: I kept an open search on the #reverb10 hashtag all month long and clicked link after link after link each day, reading the open-hearted sharing of so many strangers. And I'm more human because of each link, because of those stories. I hope you are, too.

Stories connect us in remarkable ways; the internet connects us in remarkable ways, too. And so perhaps it's no wonder that #reverb10 was powerful for its participants: it did something exponential within and among its participants. And I'm the polar opposite of a math whiz, but if I recall, the mathematical meaning of exponents is that you raise one element to the power of another element. And so...I suspect that stories raised to the power of connectivity equal community, whether fleeting or permanent. And stories raised to the power of connectivity create, or at least help to uncover, meaning. Stories raised to the power of connectivity reveal something beautifully elemental, a sense of ourselves in relationship to the world and its people around us.

The creation and sharing of stories: Something so simple becomes exponential in the most mind-boggling of ways, so quickly: simply by living, the possibility opens up for stories, and for the resulting recognition and discovery and connectivity and potential and inspiration and power. And in examining stories, we discover ourselves, we discover our humanity, and the depths are endless. How amazing. How beautiful.

This, then, is the central story at the core of me: I believe in stories. I believe in them with all my heart. And I will never stop wanting to hear more of them.

Ten things I have been thinking about lately

2010-12-14T00:59:00.002-05:00

...in no particular order:

1. Snow!

2. Middle grade books -- I have been pondering many things about stories in this genre, but mostly: What makes them work, when they really work? (A blog post on this question and some possible answers is pending & percolating & coming soon, I think).

3. While we're at it, middle books, too--as in, the middle book of a multi-book series or trilogy--and the same question really: What makes them work, when they really work?

4. The annual apparently-I-just-never-learn question of Seriously, where did I hide my favorite winter hat, sometime last Spring? Argh!

5. Peppermint-flavored everything! (Especially ice cream.)

6. The power of community (especially in, but not limited to, our social media-centric world) and what makes a community's development organic versus contrived, and do such origins even matter, actually, once a community takes hold of itself?

7. Seasonal comfort reads (there's a blog post coming on this, too).

8. The question of the (proper? healthiest? most productive?) balance between pride and humility, when it comes to careers of all sorts.

9. The delicious anticipation that develops with building up a designated "holiday pleasure reading" pile.

10. Notions of perception and reality and how you need a bit of both to create a genuine story.

So there's a peek inside some things being pondered by this editor's brain at the moment. What about you? What questions, ideas, things, etc. have you been thinking about lately?

The Gifts of the Internet (or, Why I think #reverb10 is awesome, & why you might, too)

2010-12-05T00:17:00.001-05:00

[I currently have a wicked, never-ending cold, which has slowed me down considerably. Let's just pretend this blog was posted on December 1st as I originally intended it to be, shall we?]

Sometimes, the internet gives you gifts. Sometimes, those gifts are a laugh when you desperately needed it, or a dancing cat that expresses a myriad of things that you wish to express to a friend. But sometimes, and best of all, the internet gives you the gift of people--people you might never have met, were it not for the internet and its powers of connectivity.

A few years back, the internet gave me the gift of Gwen Bell. She lives in Colorado; I live in New York City, and were it not for the internet, I suspect that the chances of our ever crossing paths would have been fairly slim. Gwen's a social media guru/evangelist/expert, and her particular expertise and passion--besides simply living a vibrant life which I deeply admire--lies in helping people and companies discover the places where humanity and technology can intersect in positive ways. But underneath the work she does is the person she is: Gwen's a storyteller, and one whom I believe takes equal measures of (if not even more) joy in helping others to discover and share their own stories as she does in uncovering and sharing her own.

Why am I telling you about Gwen? Because she and two friends have created something which I think is of particular value to the many storytellers and writers and thinkers who read this blog: #reverb10, a month-long, online, end-of-year initiative that encourages you to ponder and share your responses to thoughtful daily prompts, written by authors & creative types (including a few folks from the kidlit world that you may recognize).

#reverb10 is free, and it's simple to join--sign up for daily prompts, and you'll receive each day's prompt in your email. Take it a step further, and become an official participant, registering your name and the url where you'll be posting your responses. You can get involved at any point in this 31-day project (so feel free to start late) by blogging or tweeting or Tumblr-ing--or video-blogging, or audio recording, or posting photographs, or however else the creative spirit moves you!--your responses to any or all of the prompts. And if you can, take some time to be inspired by some of the other people sharing their own #Reverb10 responses, too: at current count, over 2200 people have signed up, and reading their responses may give you your own "gifts of the internet" --potential new friends, and fascinating blogs/people that you might never have otherwise encountered. One way to do this is by following the #reverb10 hashtag on Twitter for a near-constant stream of inspiration; another way is by following @reverb10 on Twitter; if you're not on Twitter, you can also click through the links to people's blogs listed on the "Participate" page. And if I haven't explained all of this well enough, go here for the FAQ or go here for a more comprehensive explanation of how to participate, whether that means a lot or a little, and how to make participating the most meaningful experience for you.

Given my many other obligations, I'm going to admit right now that I won't manage a blog post for each day's prompt, but I intend to post responses to at least a few that particularly strike me throughout the month. And you can bet that even for the prompts that I'm not answering "out loud," I'm pondering them in my mind throughout the day, because there are few things more that I love than questions that make me stop and think meaningfully. So go! Be inspired! Consider this the opposite of NaNoWriMo, if you're so inclined--there's nothing to "win" or "lose" by participating--just the chance to write and to reflect and to share and to be inspired...and those are some of the best gifts we can find on the internet (or anywhere else, for that matter), in my mind. Happy pondering!

"Go soak up the world...

2010-10-29T10:45:00.000-04:00

...and then come back and turn it into art and words."

I think if I could give one on-going piece of advice to any writer or artist, no matter his or her level of expertise, that would be it: to remember how important it is to go out and engage with the world you're trying to reflect, in one way or another, in your creative efforts.

But I'm getting a bit ahead of myself, throwing advice around in the first line of a blog post, all willy-nilly and entirely unbidden. So let me backtrack a bit, and give some context, starting with this: one of my earliest, most valuable lessons about how to be a good editor came from brilliant-editor-now-turned-brilliant-agent (and former boss) Brenda Bowen, who told me more than once during the time that I worked for her that, "Interesting editors make interesting books." In other words, an editor's job is not (contrary to her often-slavish instincts) to be always at her desk. Because there's more to having the kind of vision that is required of her than simply reading, or editing, or doing the dreaded and evil paperwork. It's also an editor's job to be be fascinated by, and curious about, and, most of all, engaged with the world and everything in it...pretty much constantly!

Why? Simply stated, it's so that when a writer or artist writes about or creates something interesting--when she or he captures a new idea or perspective, or reflects the world in an utterly unique or wonderful way, or finds a fresh and memorable way of telling a universally resonant story--then an editor like Yours Truly can, in turn, be alert and savvy enough to recognize its wonder, rather than inadvertently having her head stuck inside a filing cabinet instead, and missing the whole thing! That's the plan, at least. Like anyone who's human, I do a better job at being "interesting" some weeks than others. But I do know that the weeks when I've engaged more with the world, I'm more alive within myself somehow, and more able to see that spill over into the work I'm doing. And the result is that there's more of an openness in me, more of a willingness and receptivity toward discovery, toward possibility. And what is the whole process of creating and reading and sharing children's books about, if not possibility?

Interesting editors make interesting books. I've learned many times over how much truth these five words contain, and I expect I'll keep re-learning their lesson throughout my career. But it's a maxim which applies 100% to every kind of creator, I think; it's in no way limited to editors. Because interesting writers make interesting books. And interesting artists make interesting books, too. And in fact, I suspect you could sub in a lot of words into the place of "interesting" in that motto: daring, humorous, revolutionary, intelligent, creative, thoughtful...and the list goes on and on.

So how does one learn how to be an interesting writer? And what does it look and feel like to embark on trying to be one? My author Veronica Roth currently has a really honest and wonderfully articulate post about it on her blog, and I think it's pretty much a must-read for anyone grappling with creativity, or a lack thereof. So go on over and give it a read.

And then? Yep, you guessed it. Go on out this weekend, and soak up the world! And then come back and work to transform all the interesting things you've collected into art and words--into interesting books-in-the-making! (And oh, yeah. Have fun along the way, because that matters a whole lot when it comes to creativity, too. But I think that's a whole new blog post....)

Getting back to the blog, and asking questions

2010-10-24T22:06:00.003-04:00

Next summer, I'm putting up a "Gone Fishing" sign on my blog, I think: I'll have lots less guilt about meaning to post, but not quite actually getting it done. And I almost just typed that I wasn't really fishing all summer, I was mostly busy editing up a storm (and can't wait till I can show you all the good books I've been working on)--but then I remembered that I actually DID go fishing this summer! See?

(For realz. I caught that guy, and some of his other friends, too!)

I promise I'll tell you my summer fishing adventure story in a belated but still-hopefully-lovely "What I Did On My Summer Vacation" post very soon.

For now, though, I decided to cannonball back into blogging with a deep-ish post. This one was inspired by a recent email from my college friend, Jeremy, who is a campus minister in Michigan. He wrote, in part, "I'm looking at the use of questions [in my work]. Good questions stick in our minds and we come back to them regularly. They move us out of our normal ways of thinking and being. Good questions can help us to look at the truth of things and challenge us to go deeper. What was the best question you've been asked recently? Why has it stuck with you?"

And that got me thinking about questions, which are something I'm really fond of. I heartily agree with my friend that good questions help us get to the truth of things and challenge us into deeper ideas, and I think that a good book--like every kind of art--is one way of asking and creating forums for such questions. In fact, that's probably part of why I like books and their creators and bookish people in general so much: they're always stirring up interesting questions and conversations. And I think books for kids and teens ask some of the best, most important questions!

So, friends, two questions that I'll now turn over to you: feel free to answer either of them in the comments section!
Question One: What was the best question you've been asked recently, & why has it stayed with you?
Question Two: Writers and artists, what questions do your stories ask?

Busy summer, quiet blog!

2010-08-19T22:37:00.000-04:00

The blog's been far quieter than I meant it to be this summer...but there have been lots of books to make (and, oh, they are such *GOOD* books! I can't wait till you can read them!), and ice cream to eat, and trips to take, and subways stations to sweat in (hey, this is NYC after all) . . . and somehow, somehow it's late August already.

Speaking of summer in NYC, how about some photos of last night's gorgeous sunset in Central Park? Since a picture's worth a thousand words and all, here are two to kinda-sorta catch up on all the words I haven't written on this blog this summer.

Ooooooh.


Ahhhhhhh.

Hope you've all been busy collecting memorable moments (and wonderful books) of your own this summer, too!

WriteOnCon redux

2010-08-11T00:33:00.000-04:00

There were some complications with the WriteOnCon website today (the kind where two thousand people all try to log on at the same moment and crash the server, oops), so in case you missed it, here's a post from me about giving yourself permission as a writer.

Also, brilliant colleagues/pals Martha Mihalick (editor), Holly Root (agent), and I made our debut as ~~vlogging fools,~~ er, publishing mythbusters, and you can check out the advice and inadvertent moments of hilarity here. And, I'll also be participating in the live Panel of Professionals on Thursday evening at 9 p.m.; hope to chat with some of you there.

But my contributions are just a small part of all the awesomeness of WriteOnCon. Check out what's happening over the next two days here, and be sure to follow @WriteOnCon on Twitter for real-time updates, too!

In which we get our Write On!

2010-08-09T01:06:00.004-04:00

I have been a very, very bad blogger this summer. However, I'm attempting to make up for my wayward ways by getting involved in this week's WriteOnCon, from August 10th-12th.

If you haven't heard about WriteOnCon, go check it out. Basically, 7 kidlit writers found themselves wishing for a *free* online writers conference . . . and then, since one did not exist, and because they are Made. Of. Awesome., they went out and made it happen. (Note to self, never-ever underestimate the power of writers with a good ideaa...)

Seriously, take a look at the schedule, and poke around on the website. Instead of the in-person workshops and lectures and breakout sessions of a traditional conference, you'll find editors, agents, and published authors presenting via blogs and vlogs, talking about every element of the industry imaginable, from craft to querying. (Yours truly will be both vlogging and blogging, oh my!).

Wishing for something a little more interactive, or that allows your questions to be answered? Then take part in live chat panels every night (come say hi to me on Thursday evening! Be sure to read the instructions in advance to get registered).

And because a conference wouldn't be a conference without a chance to meet other amazing writers, there are forums for conversations and critiques and connections.

And it's all FREE. (A.k.a, no "what should I wear??" panic! You can wear your pajamas!) You can follow along in real-time if you're able, as the presentations go live, or you can catch up later by scrolling back through previous "sessions."

Sound awesome? I expect that it will be! My hat's truly off to the ladies who dreamed this up, rallied the industry to take part, and then brought it all to fruition in a matter of mere months. Once again, the children's book community proves itself to be quite an amazing, giving community, abounding with enthusiasm and possibility. So...hope to see you at the conference!

West-coast bound

2010-07-09T21:27:00.005-04:00

It's that time of year again! Off I go to the beautiful Oregon coast to meet a crop of eager, ambitious writers and get up to our elbows in storytelling and writerly craft . . . and then to frolic beside the Pacific for a few days in one of my favorite little corners of the world.

See you in a few weeks!

Your ALA mission

2010-06-24T14:19:00.003-04:00

...if you chose to accept it:

1. Find me or Anne Hoppe in the HarperCollins booth, or roaming the exhibits floor, at ALA this weekend. (Hint, I'll definitely be in the booth on Saturday afternoon after 3pm. Anne Hoppe will be there on Saturday at 11 a.m.)

2. Tell us, "I am talking about YOU."

3. After thanking you graciously, we will give you one of these fantastic buttons*. (And an ARC** of YOU, Charles Benoit's brilliant YA debut, if you haven't already gotten your hands on one.)

4. Keep spreading the word--because everyone is talking about YOU!

*while supplies last.
**also while supplies last.

The best of friends

2010-06-22T16:56:00.024-04:00

Today is my best friend's birthday. We've been best friends since the first grade, as evidenced by our inseparability in this first grade class photo. (Awww!)

(Note the properly-folded hands. We were *very* well-behaved first graders.)

In her honor, I thought I'd do a salute to books about best-friendship. In no particular order, and just off the top of my head, here are a few wonderful tributes to friendship--and to the ways friends love us at our best and worst, and help us grow, and change, and become, and learn to recognize our truest selves.

Toot and Puddle *** Gossie and Gertie *** Best Friends for Frances

Charlotte's Web *** Anne of Green Gables *** A Little Princess *** Bridge to Terabithia

Say Goodnight, Gracie *** Sweethearts *** Before I Fall

But I'm sure I'm missing about a million stories that belong on this list! So you tell me: what are some of your favorite books about friendship?

CONTEST!!!, Or, Janet Reid is Sneaky and You Stand to Benefit.

2010-05-21T10:04:00.017-04:00

If you've met me at a publishing event in the last 15 months or so, or if you follow me on Twitter, or if you're my friend on Facebook, you've probably heard me talking about this book, YOU, the debut YA from Charles Benoit.

YOU is without a doubt one of the most important books I'll have a part in bringing to life in my entire career, no matter how long that career turns out to be. There aren't enough adjectives to describe how masterfully crafted Charles Benoit's story is, and how excited we are that he's found his way from the adult mystery world into writing YA. And working beside my amazing boss on YOU has been a phenomenal experience--15 months after our first reads of it, we're still unable to stop ourselves from talking about it near-constantly. Most of all, the support of the children's/YA writing world for this new-to-our-world author and his story has been inmmensely humbling. The ARC, in fact, looks like this:

It's gotten more early praise than we could even fit on the cover! As we like to say, "People are talking about YOU." (And yes, you really should click each of those links to read the fantastic reviews and conversations that are starting about this book.)

So why am I showing you the ARC? Because you have a chance to win it. Head over to Agent Janet Reid's blog, where she's doing the Robin Hood thing of snitching ARCs and giving them to the masses, ergo YOU stand to benefit. But hurry! The contest ends at high noon on Sunday.

And then on August 24th (a mere 96 days from now!) get yourself to a bookstore and buy this astonishing book (or, you know, go pre-order it right now in anticipation), and read it and share it with everyone you know who works with teens, or is a teen, or has ever been a teen. And then you, too, will be one of the many people talking about YOU.

On belonging

2010-05-14T10:04:00.000-04:00

I've been pondering the notion of "belonging" over the last few days, trying to piece together this blog post. True to form, all the scattered bits of my ideas converged mentally while I walked the 10 blocks home from the subway to my apartment last night. (Hence the name of this blog, as well as proof that, for the sake of the blog, I should never-ever move--even if the piles of books that regularly threaten to entirely take over my wee studio apartment do eventually win by crowding me into having only one tiny corner allowed for all the non-bookish parts of living....)

So. Anyway. Belonging.

Last week, I visited a friend who just adopted a sweet dog from an animal rescue organization. I expected the dog to perhaps be skittish or shy...she'd only been in her new home for two days, after all. Instead, she was calm, and politely interested in meeting me, if perhaps a little less excited about the whole encounter than I was. Why? Well, it became very clear over the course of my visit was this was a dog well on her way to being vastly content. Why? Because my friend belonged to her now. In two short days, Madeline-the-dog (named for this Madeline, of course) had already claimed her new owner in a complete, wholehearted way. And not that I didn't love my friend before, but I left her apartment a few hours later smiling, because, well, I think it's impossible to not change for the better anytime one is loved fiercely, whether by person or by beast. In short, I think it's quite likely that my friend is going to become an even better person than she already is, now that she belongs to a dog. (Hmm, I suspect I must take advantage of this opportune moment for book suggestion, even if it ruins the evocative mood of this blog post. Need a picture book to articulate the small but critical difference/nuances between a dog belonging to a person, and a person belonging to a dog? Try the Christmastime charmer The Puppy Who Wanted a Boy or, the poignant and pitch-perfect Orville: A Dog Story.)

Thinking later about this idea--the peculiar loveliness of belonging and how it changes us--made me flash back to an understanding that's bubbled up in me the last few times I've traveled. Over the last year or two, I've gotten into the habit of, whenever possible, taking late-night flights back into NYC instead of daytime ones. To me, there's something breath-taking, and breath-giving at the same time, about descending from a dark sky toward Manhattan's city-island full of lights. It goes deeper than just being a sight that's "magical," or any adjective one might use to describe beauty. It's even somehow beyond the simple notion of home. It's more about a sense of completeness. Trying to articulate how it makes me feel to a friend recently, the only way I could express it was to say that flying into the light-filled city reminds me that, after eight years here, I belong to New York now. It feels as if NYC is reaching out to reconnect and reclaim me as its own. And this often-hard-but-always-glorious city makes me a better person, I think, because I belong to it.

In a similar sort of way, a certain handsome guy in my life belongs to a particular corner of the Pacific Ocean, because he grew up surrounded by its waters. I've watched him for years, observing the fact that if he's away from "his" ocean too long, he becomes jittery, stress-laden, unhappy. By contrast, even a short trip back to visit it gives him a sense of peace, and returns him to his most complete self. In a mysterious, hard-to-define but definite way, I think it's fair to say that he's a better person purely because he's spent his life belonging so intensely to that ocean, even when he's far away from it.

And the "click" moment of last night's ten block walk: that this all connects, and deeply, to a line from one one my very favorite lyrical, literary YA novels, Cynthia Rylant's I Had Seen Castles:

"I want to have that morning. The walk to school with the guys, the banter, the wisecracking, the cuffing and shoving that boys must do to claim ownership of each other."

I've loved that line since the very first time I read it, because it expresses something so entirely true. That is exactly how pre-teen boys act, exactly why their rough-and-tumble antics are actually so important, because they reveal their feelings of belonging to their tribe, and to each other, on their way toward becoming themselves.

So. Ownership. Belonging. You could call it connectedness, too, I think. As I think about it, I realize these are transformational words, transformational experiences. It seems there's something about belonging--to a person, to an animal, to a place, to an idea, even--that makes us our best selves, makes us more whole. Why is that? Does anyone know?

I think it's time to end my rambly thoughts on the idea here, but I know it's one I'm going to keep pondering. And I'd love to hear your own thoughts and responses and ponderings in the comments. And I'm curious, too, of course. Outside of the most obvious answer of your family, your beloved ones--who or what or where do you belong to, in a way that transforms you, that makes you your best self, that makes you more whole?

Poetry Friday on a Sunday: "Letter to a Young Activist"

2010-04-25T17:30:00.003-04:00

...because it seems that someone, somehow, keeps stealing all the hours out of my Fridays (and Saturdays, too, for that matter)!

Last week, while in Milwaukee to meet with the oh-so-warm-and-welcoming writers of SCBWI-Wisconsin, I got to spend a few hours roaming the campus of my alma mater, Marquette University. I'm a bit sappy and reflective by nature, so it should probably have been no surprise to me how much a visit like that would get under my skin, and sure enough, it did, leaving me profoundly grateful for my four years there. In a sense, Marquette marks for me the place and time where I first truly woke up to the world, just as I'm sure so many other MU alumni would say. It's where I first encountered all the rich possibility that comes from being human, and also the responsibility that comes from an awareness of one's humanity. It's where I learned that to be fully alive, one must be both firmly rooted in what one holds true and yet also open and engaged with the world, allowing and expecting growth to happen in unexpected ways and and shapes and places.

A decade after my graduation, I'm proud of my University--proud of its Jesuit mission, and that it continues to develop students who see the importance of living as "men and women for others." I'm proud of its focus on social justice and its activist spirit, and of the faith at its core, and that walking around campus last week made it clear to me that it's full of the same passionate vibrance and energy and awareness of and commitment to the world around it that I remember being constantly inspired by. I'm proud of the fact that it continues to attract smart, determined young people from all over the world who are determined to "Be the Difference." I'm proud of the ways it's committed to maintaining on-going links to, and conversation with, its family of alumni. And I'm proud that I can see almost an infinite number of connections between the person I am today and the education--intellectual, personal, spiritual--that I received at Marquette.

But! Poetry Friday, right? (I promise I'm getting there!) One of the first things I received as a freshman at Marquette--it was in my dorm room when I arrived, as in every other freshman's--was a gift, on behalf of our University Ministry office: a small book filled with reflections, prayers, quotes, and writings. One of them struck me deeply the very first time I read it, and in fact, it's been a guiding philosophy of my life ever since. It's not quite a poem, but to me, at least, it stirs the soul and provokes a certain sense of truth in the same way that a good poem does. And it's meant something entirely different yet equally important in each stage of my life thus far: as student, as youth minister, as children's book marketer, and now, as children's book editor. And if you read it with a writer's eyes, I expect it has something to say to writers, too.

Letter to a Young Activist
by Thomas Merton

Do not depend on the hope of results. When you are doing the sort of work you have taken on ...you may have to face the fact that your work will be apparently worthless and even achieve no result at all, if not perhaps results opposite to what you expect. As you get used to this idea, you start more and more to concentrate not on the results but on the value, the rightness, the truth of the work itself. And there, too, a great deal has to be gone through, as gradually you struggle less and less for an idea and more and more for specific people. The range tends to narrow down, but it gets much more real. In the end, it is the reality of personal relationships that saves everything....

(If so inclined, you can read the full letter here.)

"Every waking hour I'm / reading my submissions"

2010-04-22T00:25:00.014-04:00

From the Department of Randomly Weird Things That Sometimes Pop Into My Head For No Good Reason: a remix.

Agents, writers, this earworm's dedicated to you (with love, I promise)!

"That's me in the corner;

That's me on the subway, I'm

Here with my e-reader--

Trying to Keep. Up. With you.

And I don't know if I can do it.

Oh no, I've read too much;

I haven't read enough...."

(If you miss me, I promise I'm not dead. Just busy reading-reading-reading. And editing. And y'know, reading some more.)

*Alternate, amusingly-publishing-appropriate (& entirely unadulturated) lyrics from the original that were runners-up possibilities for the title of this post: "That was just a dream / Just a dream, just a dream," "What if all these fantasies / Come flailing around," and "Consider this."

P.S. Just for kicks, how about a live version?

And away we go!

2010-04-14T18:41:00.004-04:00

I'm off to one of my many adopted hometowns tomorrow, this time to Milwaukee, Wisconsin, which is home to my wonderful alma mater Marquette University! And the glory that is Kopp's Frozen Custard! And wonderfully friendly people who call their water fountains "bubblers" and their ATMs "Tyme Machines." Best of all, I'm off to meet the good folks of SCBWI-Wisconsin, who have graciously invited me to speak at their Spring Luncheon. I'll be talking about why editors fall in love--and keeping my fingers crossed, too, that one of the writers in attendance just might have a story in the works that will make THIS particular editor fall in love. Cross your fingers for me!

P.S. Please don't break the internet or Twitter or let Facebook change their design again while I'm gone this time, okay, kids?

Yes. This.

2010-04-13T07:55:00.005-04:00

"But what I really crave in a good bookshop...is a touch of irregularity, a chaos that is partly disorder and partly the inner order of the proprietor's mind....The reason we still go to good bookshops is also the reason we have a few friends over for dinner instead of inviting everyone. We like the selectness of the company, the likelihood of sharing common interests, the chance to make discoveries guided by minds and sensibilities we already trust."--Verlyn Klinkenborg, "Book Lover's London," Travel + Leisure Magazine.

Do you know a great bookstore that fits the description above? Tell us about it in the comments!

Poetry Friday: "April is the cruellest month..."

2010-04-02T06:01:00.002-04:00

True confession time: In high school, I had a temporary obsession with T.S. Eliot, due mostly to the fact that my friend Daniel, who was the most Serious Writer Guy I knew, said that Eliot was the best poet, period. I had unfailing faith in Daniel's literary wisdom (after all, he was a senior, and I was a lowly underclassman), but what I didn't confess to him was that Eliot's poems didn't actually make sense to me at all. Instead, I spent a few months prominently toting a volume of Eliot's The Waste Land and Other Collected Poems around in public and jotting things in its margins in hopes that people would recognize that I was, clearly, a Serious Writer Girl, too.

Ah, high school.

The discovery, a few years later, that entire university courses were devoted to studying "The Waste Land" made me feel retroactively better about all the parts of it that I just "didn't get" at age fifteen. Those early repeated attempts to read and understand "The Waste Land" left the first handful of lines etched in my brain, though, with an odd sort of fondness attached to them. Perhaps that's why I get such a delight out of this video, which accompanies a recording of Eliot himself reading the opening section. Take a moment and listen, even if you have no erstwhile literary crush on Eliot in your own past--there's something eternally magnificent about hearing an author read his/her own words aloud.

The Waste Land

by T. S. Eliot

I. The Burial of the Dead

April is the cruellest month, breeding

Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing

Memory and desire, stirring

Dull roots with spring rain.

Winter kept us warm, covering

Earth in forgetful snow, feeding

A little life with dried tubers.

Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee

With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,

And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,

And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.

Bin gar keine Russin, stamm’ aus Litauen, echt deutsch.

And when we were children, staying at the arch-duke’s,

My cousin’s, he took me out on a sled,

And I was frightened. He said, Marie,

Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.

In the mountains, there you feel free.

I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow

Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,

You cannot say, or guess, for you know only

A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,

And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,

And the dry stone no sound of water. Only

There is shadow under this red rock,

(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),

And I will show you something different from either

Your shadow at morning striding behind you

Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;

I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

Frisch weht der Wind

Der Heimat zu

Mein Irisch Kind,

Wo weilest du?

“You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;

“They called me the hyacinth girl.”

—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,

Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not

Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither

Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,

Looking into the heart of light, the silence.

Oed’ und leer das Meer.

Read more of "The Wasteland" here. And happy April--don't forget that it's Poetry Month!

Why I Work in Publishing (in brief)

2010-03-24T18:16:00.006-04:00

There are a million reasons I could tell you. Catch me in person some time, in fact, and you'll be hard-pressed to avoid me telling you some of them, probably whether you've even asked or not! ;) In fact, maybe "Why I Work in Publishing" should become a regular feature on this blog.

But for now, as the simplest answer to that question, I'll point to this. Reviews like this--heartfelt responses from readers like this--are why I work in publishing, and specifically, why I work in children's/YA books. Because I get to help make books that carry this much power, for readers of every age. Because stories become a part of us and stay with us forever and shape the person we become in the world and the mark we choose to leave on it. Because the things a writer has to say, and the words s/he crafts, can become black marks on white paper (or the technological equivalent thereof) that just might make someone else want to become a better person. And I get to help make all of that happen.

Does there need to be any other reason?

Because sometimes a photo really is worth a thousand words

2010-03-23T21:49:00.008-04:00

...even if the photo is blurry because of pouring rain and bad angles and late night darkness.

(Explanation: this is how the Circus Elephants arrive in NYC and travel from the Midtown Tunnel into Madison Square Garden every year. They march down 34th Street at midnight. More (and better!) photos here.

P.S. I heart NY.

Of zombie cows, rainbows, and a glorious thing called "vacation"

2010-03-20T21:20:00.003-04:00

It's taken me longer than expected to put this post up, sorry. (Someone really needs to do something about whatever scientific fluke causes three days out of the office to somehow equal, like, seventeen days' worth of work before you begin to feel caught up again.) In any case, and without further ado, I give you a brief highlights reel from VACATION:

Mountains = not in NYC anymore

Nope, not Brooklyn, either. Not even close.

A million gorgeous miles away, in fact!
(That's Abiquiu Lake)

Travel Companion and I had a fairly singular goal: to escape the dreary February-ness of our respective locales, run away to somewhere entirely different, and be inspired for a few days. Abiquiu, New Mexico--famous for inspiring much of Georgia O'Keefe's artwork--was the exactly what we'd hoped for. (Abiquiu is about 50 miles north of Santa Fe, and about 60 miles west of Taos, which means that both learningtoread and christinetripp had awfully close guesses. I'll be emailing both of you about your promised prizes, and thanks to all who played along and suggested a locale.)

Want to see some more gorgeousness?

They called it a casita, but this "little house" was approx 200 (okay, 5, but still!) times bigger than my apartment!

Mountains in the front yard!! They delighted me all
over again every morning when I woke up & rediscovered them.

Oh this? Just the side view from the casita--starring
the bee-yoo-tiful (if still half-frozen) Chames River.

It's impossible, really, to do a place like this justice in words, so I'll just sum it up in with a Nature count (hey, when you live in a city of concrete like NYC, Nature becomes a delightful novelty) and let you imagine the rest:

Nature Count:
Prairie dogs seen scurrying into holes: 2 (so cute!!)
Stars in the night sky: Approximately a bazillion, all of them gorgeous.
Hours spent staring at stars: Many. (What is it about stars that moves us so deeply?)
Shooting stars seen: 1, and it was oh-so-perfect.
Coyotes heard howling from the mountains at night: Loved 'em, but decided it was better not to know how many there were out there, thanks.
"Cow crossing" warning signs seen: 1 approximately every 1/2 mile, for many, many miles.

Actual cows seen, crossing or otherwise: None. Nada. Zip.
Zombie cow theories resulting from mismatch: 1, fairly half-baked.
Spontaneous side trip that may or may not have been to a local brewery (but that had nothing to do with zombie cow theories, I swear!): 1.
Picture-perfect vacation ending (i.e. rainbow over the mountains as my flight departed): 1. Ain't it gorgeous?

Inner Dixie Chick satisfied: 1, most definitely.
(You know you want to sing along!)

Where should I go the next time I run away from NYC? All suggestions happily accepted in the comments!

Sorry for the radio silence

2010-03-17T10:39:00.005-04:00

Because I've been asked....yes. Vacation was glorious, but yes, I did come back to NYC.

It's amazing, though, isn't it, how a few days of vacation can set you behind for weeks afterward? I pinky-swear that a post-vacation post, complete with pictures and promised prizes, is coming soon! For now, though, I'm deep in the heart of making some fabulous books (and you'd all far rather get to read them than my blog anyway, I guarantee it!) so it will be just a tad longer before I catch up with the blog.

In the meanwhile, Top o' the Morning and a Very Happy Wearin' o' the Green today!

P.S. Just a reminder: there's only 3 days left to Help Make Something Awesome Happen! Don't forget to go be a part of it!

Running away (temporarily)

2010-03-02T19:34:00.006-05:00

For the next handful of days I will be here, soaking up color of a very different sort than the blah, city-ish gray days that NYC offers this time of year:

All my standard threats about just possibly never-ever coming back from a beautiful place like this hold true. That said, don't have too much fun without me while I'm away, please!

P.S. Bonus points & a fun Advanced Readers Copy prize to the first person in the comments section who properly guesses where I am, city & state, based on that picture. (No fair playing if I've already told you, though!)

Win...stuff. Good stuff. Oh, and help make Something Awesome happen.

2010-02-22T22:18:00.007-05:00

Random bit of relatively useless editorial knowledge of the day: once upon a time, they'd have called this a Box Social.

Today, though, I think the technical term is "Lots of Awesome People Banding Together to Collectively Make Something Really Good Happen." In this case, the "Something Really Good" is Fire Petal Books, a kids/YA bookstore that my editorial colleague, Michelle Witte, is trying to get off the ground in her home state of Utah (which just happens to be a very kid & family-centric place, so her plan makes a great lot of sense). But nothing gets started without a lot of work. And a lot of Awesome People.

That's where you come in.

If you're feeling up to maybe Being Awesome, go take a look at the auction that Michelle has going on the Fire Petal website :

There are writer-centric goodies up for grab (yours truly is offering a PB/novel manuscript critique, as well as a 15-minute phone consultation) from an array of editor/agent industry types, as well as acclaimed authors and illustrators.

There are autographed books for the book-lovers in your life. (People, there is even an autographed Neil Gaiman book up for offer...and it currently has NO BIDS! How is that even possible?!)

And there's lots of other nifty stuff, too, including parties and jewelry, oh my!

So go nuts! Bid high! Bid a lot! Bid often, and over and over, from now till the auction ends on March 20th, and until we've all really helped make this bookstore happen. Okay?

And thanks. You're Awesome.

P.S. Have something you want to offer for the auction? Autographed books, publishing services, anything else that you could donate that someone else might want? Contact Michelle through her website or Twitter; she's adding more itemsto the auction everyday!

"Web 2.0 is like a pyramid scheme"

2010-02-22T00:52:00.004-05:00

Some of the most fascinating relationships and discoveries of my professional life have come to me via social media over the last few years. If you were to talk to me in person, you'd hear me vehemently defend the real goodness out there, and the fact that I think social media's benefits far outweigh its flaws. Even just a few years into it all, I've got a closet-full of personal examples of friendships, insights, joys, opportunities, and true delights that have come my way via the internets. And the truth is, I kinda think that one of the points of life is to have meaningful relationships and make meaningful connections between them, and call me crazy, but I've found and made a good handful of those via the internet.

And yet, and yet... *whispers* sometimes, the internet, and twitter, and facebook, and goodreads and email and whatever the new social media invention-of-the-week is, and even this blog...and all the people they entail...it is all exhausting. Which is perhaps why this article, passed along by smart, thoughtful agent Holly Root, with the explanation of "why we're all more and less connected all at once" really echoed for me. I don't agree with everything in it (and if you're language-sensitive, be warned that there are some sailor-worthy swears in here), and I don't think I'm as fatalistic about it all as this article's author is, either, but there are more than a few truths here, to be sure.

Which parts rang true for you? And what do we do about it all, anyway? Lemme know your thoughts in the comments; this is bound to be an interesting conversation!

Poetry-like advice on a Friday

2010-02-19T19:10:00.004-05:00

In lieu of Poetry Friday (because this week has been a BUSY one), I offer you instead some the poetic advice given to me today by lovely author, Patricia MacLachlan (who has a new novel coming out this summer, which means you should start saving your pennies and getting excited NOW!)

go home.
on the way buy a nice wine (chilled) and some tulips.
fill a bath full of hot water and bubbles.
Fill a glass of wine and get a nice book.
Maybe some chocolate.
After the bath get under a nice down quilt.
Stare at the tulips until you doze.

I think I might do just that. You're welcome to take her sage advice, too. Happy weekend, all!

A Conversation on Resonance & Responsibility

2010-02-15T12:26:00.020-05:00

Resonance and connectivity are things that I look for a lot as an editor, things that I ask writers to pursue in their storytelling, urging them to open up their stories as wide as possible. Doing so can lead to one of the most powerful kinds of writing, in my mind: when a book reaches beyond merely telling about a particular set of characters, and becomes a story that echoes as familiar and personal and true in the hearts and minds of all different kinds of readers. If, as creators of stories, we recognize and believe that stories are what connect us, then of course that potential for deep connection is one we want to make the most of, right? And if we're lucky, the connections do, in fact, emerge: between readers and characters, between readers and their classmates/friends/family members/fellow humans, and sometimes between readers and authors, too.

But what happens, once the connection is made? Do we talk enough--or at all--about what that can mean, especially for writers of deeply resonant and real (but also sometimes deeply painful) stories?

We talk a lot about "responsibility" in children's and YA books, and one of the fascinating things about that word is that, like any word, it means something different to different people. To some, it means militant safe-guarding of young readers from stories that may, ultimately, shape them, even in the slightest of ways, into a different person than they were previously. But to most of us working in publishing, whether as writers or industry folk, "responsibility," especially in the context of YA, usually translates best to "honesty."

Most of us remember what it was like to be a teen, and we know teens today, too. And the truth is, growing up is (still) hard, and (still) confusing, and it isn't always safe, and sometimes it's positively cruel, but every teen has to stumble through it somehow. And if there are books that might help him/her do so with a little more certainty or a little less loneliness, so much the better. In a way, it means we're all in this together: authors and agents, editors and publishers, librarians and teachers, with all the other invisible walls between our linked-but-separate professions broken down. We're all in it together for every single teen who might, just might, reach for a book while seeking to answer some variation of the questions that we still remember asking ourselves: How, exactly, do we learn to grow up? To become human? To survive the turbulent mess of fears and glories and heartbreaks and changes that any kind of significant becoming entails? To find out which things actually matter, to understand what part of everything is true?

My Jesuit university extolled an ideal that's at the heart of their mission/philosophy of education, and that ended up at the heart of me, too: cura personalis, or "care for the whole person." In other words, it's not enough to care for or feed a person physically, you must also look after his/her unique emotional, spiritual, and mental needs and hungers, too; we must offer a deep respect for everything that makes a person human. In this way, we can help others--and ourselves--them grow, by refusing to segment a person into only the elements we might feel comfortable seeing. Ultimately, if reaching outward, you cannot only give attention to singular aspects of a person's full humanity, or you have failed to truly care for them after all. It's a philosophy that I think can offer a deeper meaning to, but demand a deeper responsibility from, any profession: from doctors to social workers to teachers to writers of books for teens. Because we do care for those we encounter, and deeply: writers care for the teens who will read their books, and editors care for those teens, too--and also for the authors, caught somewhere in the middle of this chain of connectivity.

Which brings me to the question that Janet Reid is asking on her blog today. It's not a question that I have any answer to (would that I did!) but I agree with her that it's an important one for all of us to weigh, and to think about in terms of today's social media-driven world. What happens when a teen does find a story that speaks to him/her powerfully, and that book becomes a lifeline--when a reader reaches out, believing the author has the answers he/she is seeking, or wanting a continuation of what felt like a deeply personal connection? And then in turn, what's an author to do when that same sense of immediacy that we extol in writing for teens comes through in a reader's communications--when they email/blog comment/Facebook message/MySpace post/Tweet/etc, etc. an author offering their own story, brimming with vulnerability and then desperately--or even just hopefully--await an answer, a meaningful response, a deeper connection, a promise that there's a way past whatever moment they're in the midst of living? And how does an author begin to shoulder that responsibility, that hunger, that need on the part of readers, somewhere in the midst of the other work of being a writer?

Media is so often blamed when things go wrong in the lives of damaged, hurting, unhappy, teens. We blame tragedies on the influence of violent video games and movies; we blame magazines for encouraging hopelessly unrealistic self-images. In the resoundingly opposite direction, it's long been the stance of children's/YA book folks that the greatest thing we can--and do!--offer to teens is hope, in the form of stories. But social media has changed--or at least, slightly shifted--so many other aspects of publishing that I guess we shouldn't be surprised that it's changed the author-reader relationship in some regards, too. And I don't think that new-media-heightened hope for connection is an aspect of the job that a writer can simply chose to turn away from and ignore--I don't think writers of books for teens would choose to do that, or I don't think they'd bother writing for teens at all. So somehow, it seems that a writer's job isn't just to serve words and stories and characters anymore--it's also to serve the searching/freely-sharing/sometimes-broken readers who come barreling, virtually, into their in-boxes. And for writers, that fact is powerful and beautiful and utterly overwheming, all at once, or so I suspect.

So what's the next step? It's a two-pronged query, I think: one set of answers may spell out some ways writers can best respond to teens who, though virtual strangers, are craving connection in a way that validates/orients/respects/sometimes even rescues them. But the other part both precedes and follows that, and it's for all of us: How do we (agents, editors, publishers, fellow writers, booksellers, educators, and the children's publishing community as a whole) equip writers to receive the stream of stories teens offer in return for the books they've just read?

It's a big question. I welcome your thoughts.

Poetry Friday on Sunday: a.k.a., Happy Valentine's Day!

2010-02-14T12:42:00.002-05:00

I'm a few days late this week, but we can pretend I did it on purpose, right? To save Poetry Friday for Valentine's Day, right?

And here's a bit of an editor's valentine: wrapped up in the form of a poem, I offer you a perfect example of that oft-quoted bit of writing advice, "show, don't tell." There is both so much the poet does and doesn't reveal in these short lines, as she shows us a brief but vivid glimpse of a particular love story. And, thanks to the revealing power of these carefully-chosen words, we can't help but imagine of what this woman looks like--or at least, what her quiet, radiant smile looks like. I know I imagine it to be quite lovely.

Happy Valentine's Day!

"Those Who Love"
by Sara Teasdale

Those who love the most,
Do not talk of their love,
Francesca, Guinevere,
Deirdre, Iseult, Heloise,
In the fragrant gardens of heaven
Are silent, or speak if at all
Of fragile inconsequent things.

And a woman I used to know
Who loved one man from her youth,
Against the strength of the fates
Fighting in somber pride
Never spoke of this thing,
But hearing his name by chance,
A light would pass over her face.

The Best Book Ever

2010-02-09T11:48:00.002-05:00

Hey, I think I've met this guy a time or two before. Maybe you have, too? Maybe he's in your writing group?

Poetry Friday: "Winter Stars"

2010-02-05T11:44:00.003-05:00

What is it about stars that is so evocative? I can't even answer my own question, but I know I'm not alone in loving their imagery. There's a lot I love about this poem, too--how perfectly it captures the sense of winter melancholy that finds us all from time to time, the slow shift in its tone from sorrow to quiet hope, and how well it echoes the sense of creeping peacefulness and slowed-down, utter stillness that one feels when standing outside late at night, looking up at the stars. And the last line of this poem is so lovely, I won't say anything more, I'll just let you read it.

Winter Stars
by Sara Teasdale

I went out at night alone;
The young blood flowing beyond the sea
Seemed to have drenched my spirit’s wings—
I bore my sorrow heavily.

But when I lifted up my head
From shadows shaken on the snow,
I saw Orion in the east
Burn steadily as long ago.

From windows in my father’s house,
Dreaming my dreams on winter nights,
I watched Orion as a girl
Above another city’s lights.

Years go, dreams go, and youth goes too,
The world’s heart breaks beneath its wars,
All things are changed, save in the east
The faithful beauty of the stars.

Beauty, of the writerly sort

2010-01-24T19:03:00.005-05:00

Every now and then, someone uses words in a way that stops me short. It's an amazing feeling to stumble upon words--writing--like that. When a writer is able to perfectly, expertly, seemingly painlessly (ha! I know better!) capture old truths, to restate things I already know, but in a gorgeous way that makes me pause and nod and see them as if they are completely new discoveries, it makes me nothing short of ecstatic. And if a writer does all that while also using vibrant, beautiful language, then I'm completely, entirely that writer's captive. A willing captive, who wants to shout out words of agreement and encouragement from rooftops for that writer.

Since this blog is the closest thing I've got to a rooftop, please read this as me shouting: RUN, DON'T WALK to read Alexander Chee's "100 Things About a Novel, Pt. 1." His "things" (which are far too lovely to simply be given such an ordinary title, but it's his name for them, not mine) are honest and true and both perfectly stated and understated at the same time, and to top it all off, the editor in me is mad-in-love with his perfectly elegant use of syntax. Right now I'm caught between both hoping he'll post the other 70 or so right-away-fast-like-tomorrow, and hoping he'll post them oh-so-slowly, so I can luxuriate in imagining just how perfect they'll be, when he finally does so.

Which "thing" resonates most for you?

Lucky Number Seven: A Gratitude Post

2010-01-20T22:06:00.018-05:00

Those of you who are long-time readers might think you've read a post somewhat like this before. And so you have, in a manner of speaking, and everything said in this year-old post (which lives on what was formerly the blog of the Bowen Press) absolutely still holds true. But I'm a pensive, reflective person by nature, so when milestones big or small roll around, you can often find me "thinking out loud," a.k.a., writing. I'm also someone who firmly believes that glancing backward on occasion can actually help you to move forward with greater intention and direction, so it's likely there will be a post of this nature every year. Consider yourselves duly warned.

In any case, today marks seven years for me working as a full-time industry professional in this world I love. I did have a handful of other lives before coming to NYC, so, alas, I'm not quite as young as that number makes me sound, but still--seven years! It feels like both a wildly long and remarkably short time, all at once.

My very first wonderful boss in publishing still likes to tell the story of offering me my first job, as a marketing/publicity assistant at Clarion Books. As she tells it, shortly after accepting on the spot and hanging up the phone, I called her back...to ask exactly what time I needed to be at work the following week. To this day, she's convinced that I called back just to be sure that she had really-truly offered me the job, and that I hadn't just imagined it! (I swear I wasn't. I simply had no idea what time grown-ups in NYC had to be at work!) Seven years later, I'm still relieved to know that publishing people don't--usually--have workdays that start at 8 a.m.! And I'm grateful for beyond words for that phone call, and for that boss, and for the way that first job of mine opened up the crazy-hard-to-break-into gates of the children's publishing industry for me, while also giving me the best grounding in the workings of the art and craft of book-making that I could hope for.

I'm lucky/blessed/extremely fortunate, there's no question about it. Even before that job offer, I had a string of amazing mentors--including stellar college professors, and the encouraging publishing professionals who oversaw my internships--who helped me begin to understand how my interest in children's books could translate into a real, live career. Seven years and a variety of job titles later, I've had even more incredible mentors--brilliant bosses and colleagues, dedicated librarians, and amazing writers and artists themselves, all of whom have shared their own wisdom, knowledge, experience, and passion so generously.

About once a week, it occurs to me that I actually have my dream job as a children's and YA book editor, and that's a fact I never get tired of remembering. It's a job that--to limit myself to an apropos seven adjectives--is alternately fascinating, wondrous, stimulating, terrifying, inspiring, joyous, and even, on occasion, heartbreaking. In short, it's a job about which I'm intensely passionate, because it makes me feel deeply, which in turn makes me feel more alive (so much so that only italics will do, even though I know I am overusing them in this post!) and, really, what more could anyone ask for than that?

In the last seven years, I've had the chance to meet--and even work with!--many of the authors who shaped me as a young reader, and whose books utterly influenced the person I am today. That's a more amazing experience than I honestly have words for, and I only wish I could go back and tell the young reader I once was that someday that would be the case, and watch her eyes nearly pop out of her head. But it's not only the long-established authors and artists with whom I feel privileged to work--it's been an equal joy to be a part of the process for so many creators of children's books--to being a force in the process of so many talented authors and illustrators finding their place in the world, and in the hearts and on the bookshelves of young readers. So today I thank those whose books I've had the chance to be a caretaker for, whether that has meant discovering your brilliant talents for my own small (but growing!) list and touching your words and pictures as an editor, or guiding you through the wilds of conferences, school visits, websites, and more as a marketer. Every one of your books has shaped me, and if they can do that for me as an adult, I can only begin to imagine the enduring power they'll have on the lives of many young readers! There's a quote I love that author Shannon Hale once wrote on her blog:"Life is cataloged by story." For me, at least, that statement is simply and perfectly true, and oh-so-wonderfully expressed. And so I thank the authors and artists with whom I've worked, for allowing your stories to be a part of my own catalog of story.

And to all those storytellers whose stories I don't even know about yet (or that YOU don't even know about yet, because they're still somewhere within you, waiting to be written), or whose books I've only had the chance to admire from afar? Well, seven's supposed to be a lucky number, right? So here's looking forward! I'm more than ready for the most invigorating year ever, and I can't wait for everything--the glorious-ideas-becoming-books, their brilliant creators, and the meaningful connections with booklovers, book advocates, and with all kinds of fascinating, creative, inspiring people imaginable--that will emerge in the year to come, shaping me, as we become a part of one another's lives and stories. My thanks, this time in advance, to you all.

Edited to add: I cobbled this post together in stolen moments today, and hadn't noticed how verbose & rambly I'd gotten until I posted! Sorry about that!

Editor is manuscript as Butcher is to...cow?

2010-01-13T13:25:00.017-05:00

Some of you may recall that I have a pretty awesome doppelganger: "the other Molly O'Neill" is a former NY Times food editor, the author of her own cookbooks and a memoir, a food writer extraordinaire, a great public speaker (as I discovered last year), and the sister of a former NY Yankee.

I have a Google alert set on "our" name. Sometimes it brings me news of myself, but more often, it brings me news of my doppelganger (or occasionally, of another Molly O'Neill, who works for the Environmental Protection Agency, but I'm pretty sure that food writer Molly O'Neill and I have the cooler jobs of the three of us). In any case, today, my google alert brought me this quote from "the other Molly O'Neill," from a 1998 article entitled "The Late, Great, Fine Art of Butchering."

"The intensive training of long apprenticeships (up to 10 years) is still the best way to become an expert or, as butchers call one other, a ''master.'' Masters have the expertise, for example, to distinguish the texture, fat content and freshness of any cut of meat just by touching it. In times past, a butcher became a master when another master recognized his skill."

And I'm struck by this quote because, hmmm, that process sounds terribly familiar. Editing is without question an apprenticeship career of much the same ilk, where you learn so much at the hands of the master editors who are your bosses--though happily, it's (usually!) a decidedly less bloody career. (I know, I know, it's almost impossible to resist all the editor/butchering jokes, isn't it? Even for me!) Truth be told, of course, I'm not sure I know a single editor who would ever quite feel comfortable declaring that they'd graduated to "master editor," but they'd be proud to tell you about a few of the master writers they'd found along the way! That said, if, ten years from now I could have the expertise to distinguish what a manuscript would be like, merely by touching it, how great would THAT be?

All in all, it's a fascinating--if unexpected--comparison to ponder. Hurrah for random Google alerts!

Somewhere, the Universe is laughing...

2010-01-09T20:04:00.004-05:00

...because four days after posting that ode to my Sony e-reader, it died a tragic, dramatic death (its screen burnt out, apparently). To add insult to injury, it waited until it was just past--literally, just 2 weeks past!--its warranty expiration date to do so. I am currently haggling with the fine folks at Sony about a replacement. Cross your fingers for me!

Short & sweet (& also, profound)

2010-01-05T13:43:00.009-05:00

Here's one of the best quotes I've found in quite awhile about books & bookmaking. To me, this quote rings so true--and it sums up a great part of what I hope for in each book that I'm a part of bringing to life.

"The best service a book can render you is not to impart truth, but to make you think it out for yourself."--Elbert Hubbard

You Tell Me: What Did You Discover in 2009?

2010-01-04T22:35:00.014-05:00

Oh, dear. I seem to have fallen down almost completely on blogging last month (not to mention on my self-assigned monthly-photo journal "a picture speaks a thousand words" game). I blame the two nearly back-to-back sinus infections that arrived as part of my December joys, not to mention general holiday chaos. But ah, well. The New Year is about starting fresh with good intentions, not fretting about the past, right? Right! And, purely by coincidence, it turns out that this is my 50th blog post, which feels like exactly the right place to start the new year!

Speaking of the New Year, lots of people have been doing great, detailed year-end round-ups about 2009. In the interest of actually getting this posted sooner rather than never, I'm gonna skip most of the deep introspection, because one of my, deep, dark secrets is that I love making ponderous lists and if I let myself, I'll spend way, way, too much time thinking and rambling on about them. But suffice it to say that, for me, 2009 included both some "best of times and worst of times," as I'm sure it did for most folks. One thing that's solidly in the "best" category from the past year, though, is this evolution of this blog, its readers, and the outlet it offers me (and I hope others, too!) for "thinking out loud" about publishing, about the creative life, and about all the places art and life intersect and converge. So, if you're reading this, thanks for a being a part of all that. If you've contributed to the conversation at one point or another, or in many spots, thanks all the more. And if you're a reader who hasn't spoken up yet, please do! (Unless you're a spammer. In which case, please head out the door marked "2009" and don't come back, ever.)

One thing I do like to ponder at year's-end, though, is the question of how--and via what mediums--my life has totally altered in ways I wouldn't have even guessed it could. What things have become a part of the fiber of my daily life that I couldn't have imagined, even a year or two before, would become a part of my life at all?

Over the last few years, I must say, there have been an increasing number of tech-type things falling into this category. I'm not the earliest of early adopters, but I'm increasingly surrounded by early-adopter types, and I am opinionated, so usually* once I've heard about something a few times, I tend to want to try it out so I can have my own thoughts about it. And if I like it, I then tend to crow about from the rafters to anyone who will listen. A few examples from the past handful of years? Google Reader, which lets me to consume blogs in a completely different, and far, far more productive way that I'd ever have conceived was possible back when I first started paying attention to blogs. RSS feeds = brilliant. Etsy, the craft website that started taking all my spare pennies back around 2006, but has kinda made up for it by leading me to wonderfully talented illustrators. And, yeah, Facebook, which shook up my world in all kinds of interesting ways, too, just as its done for pretty much all of us. And on the decidedly non-tech side, I'll go with a few more luxurious discoveries, including tea-as-a-genuinely-pleasing-alternate-form-of-caffeine-to-coffee, the joys of knitting, and the knowledge that many museums in New York have recommended donation amounts, not carved-in-stone, exorbitantly-expensive fees.

Leaping to the more recent past, though...so what were my best discoveries of 2009? Four spring to mind:

1. My e-reader. E-readers have certainly complicated publishing over the past year (to put it mildly), but from a totally different perspective, i.e., the quality of life for your average publishing employee, wow. They've changed everything. I use mine primarily for manuscript-reading, and as such, it's no exaggeration that it's changed my life. I joke that it's even changed my fashion--I kinda feel like I'm suddenly inside an infomercial now, but the truth is, just a little over a year ago, I used to carry a separate bag to and from work, every single day, in which I would carry hundreds, if not thousands, of pages of paper. Often, I was too worn from simply lugging all that paper around to even want to read any of it on the subway or when I got home! And truth be told, I'm not sure how I would have survived this year's uptick of less editors/more books to edit, hurry, faster/more agents/more agented submissions to read, and hurry, faster, there, too, without the e-reader. Also, someday, I'll tell my own assistant how once upon a time, I used to read all my manuscripts on paper, and she will look at me like I am SO FREAKING OLD. (And then I'll cry.)

2. Twitter. I admit it, I held out on Twitter for quite awhile, but I ultimately caved and joined just around this time last year, because I wanted to see what it was like to follow the ALA Newbery/Caldecott Announcements in real-time. A year and 2,000+ tweets later, I have to say that the day-to-day dialogues, conversations, and connections formed via Twitter prove to be more valuable everyday. Twitter's constant steam of engaging conversation among smart, savvy people helps me to constantly THINK about new, interesting things in new, interesting ways, which I think is utterly essential in a time of change like our industry is facing. But there's a simpler side to it, too. The truth is, the world's full of fascinating/creative/thought-provoking/ hilarious people, and I love how many new ones I've found or gotten to know better via Twitter.

3. My $20 crockpot from Target. Yeah, I know, it's decidedly non-tech, and I'm several decades behind the curve on this one, but seriously? You throw in bunch of raw ingredients--pretty much ANY random raw ingredients you can think of--and then turn it on and go away/go to sleep/go to work and come back to, like, a week's worth of delicious-smelling meals? MAGIC.

4. Ireland. My trip to Dublin this summer, though brief, was a glorious checkmark on my life's to-do list, and a definite highlight of 2009. It's a whole land of storytellers--what's not to love? And seeing a new place and then coming back with new eyes to my own life anew (to paraphrase Marcel Proust a bit)? Priceless.

Okay! Enough nattering from me. (See, I warned you. List-making makes me ramble!) What were some of YOUR best discoveries in 2009? From places to tools to objects to books to tech-type stuff to...well, you tell me!

* ahem. Disclaimer: Most of the time. Or at least sometimes. And Occasionally I stubbornly swear-up-and-down that I'll never-ever try something, only to eat my words later. See also: Facebook and Twitter, and probably lots of other things I've conveniently forgotten about once protesting against.

Poetry Friday: "Equinox"

2009-12-11T15:18:00.007-05:00

I've missed the last few Poetry Fridays, but am hoping to find my way back to them. My soul just feels more right when I pause to feed it poetry every now and then, you know?

In any case, this is one of my very favorite poetic discoveries of the last few years. To me, it carries a melancholy and reflectiveness that fits perfectly with the mood that fall often brings as it sweeps in past summer, carrying us toward winter whether we want to go there or not. And although it's most definitely wintry in NYC this week, until just recently, it's felt like an extended autumn. So I'm hoping it's not too late in the season to share this poem, because it's so lovely that I didn't want to wait until all the way to next year to do so.

Take a deep breath before you begin reading--maybe even (as I always do when I read it) think for a minute of those "rare visitors" who have altered the chemistry of your world with their blazing entrances and leavings--and then soak this one in deep.

"Equinox"
by Patricia Hooper

Clouds go over. The maples flare again.
In the garden the last bright asters
blaze in the autumn air
the way my skin burned
when you turned to me
in the chill breeze off the lake.

The days are cool, now,
the nights are deep, and long.
At the feeder a red-winged blackbird
has come in from the fields
and sorts among the seeds.
A rare visitor--
even if he finds what he wants,
he'll never stay here.

These are the last days.
Already the stalks of lilies
have withered, and the gold petals
of the rose melt on the grass.
But the sky flames, more intense.
I didn't see it coming.
For the few days you were here with me,
all the familiar warnings disappeared.

California...California!

2009-12-02T17:30:00.003-05:00

And...I'm off! To Monterey, CA for the Big Sur Children's Writing Workshop, which is put on by the fab agents of Andrea Brown Literary Agency.

This picture is courtesy of Google, and the words "Monterey, CA," so I'm not sure if it will actually look like this, or if I'll be anywhere this near to the Pacific, but right now, I'm choosing to believe so!

Cross your fingers that I meet some amazing writers with some equally amazing manuscripts this weekend! Oh, and you should probably cross your fingers that I actually decide to come back home to NYC, too, because if it does look like that, well--I make no promises!

Abounding goodness

2009-11-26T15:49:00.007-05:00

Today (and every day) I'm thankful:

for family, and for the chosen family of my friends, both near and far;
for my beloved city of NYC and all the other places that have shaped me along the way;
for my faith and capacity for belief;
for my work, which even when challenging, remains an astounding joy;
for deeply-felt emotions and memorable experiences, and the ability of words to capture and define and make sense of them;
for a lifetime of stories that I have helped to create and have been created by, and for all the stories that still await;
and for good coffee and good red wine and good music, all of which make the best of moments even better.

Happy Thanksgiving!

You Tell Me: What's Your Anthem?

2009-11-16T23:44:00.009-05:00

Anyone who follows me on Twitter or Facebook (or who knows me in real life) has probably already gotten a dose of my mad love for this first season of GLEE. Glee takes me back to my own high school theater club memories and a point in time when belting out the lyrics of showtunes--whether from the stage, or backstage, or up-and-down the hallways after school, or in a car with my friends, or at home in front of my mirror--seemed like the perfect solution to every moment of high school drama. Thinking about it with just a little emotional distance now, I suppose the best explanation I can give is that musicals are all about highs and lows, about the moments when the intensity of life is so far beyond mere words that one must simply burst into song to come anywhere close to expressing it. In short, they're the perfect match for the utter and ongoing angst of high school/teen life! :)

I started thinking about all this over the last few days, not long after I downloaded the Glee soundtrack. With apologies to my neighbors, I've listened to the duet of "Defying Gravity" approximately 67 times and counting since last Thursday, my flimsy excuse for that aural behavior being that I never really had a "Wicked" phase, since it came out a good number of years after my own High School Musical experience had passed. On my walk home from the subway last night, listening to it yet again on my ipod (have I mentioned I have a wee tendency to wear out new songs once I get attached to them?) I started thinking about that high school self of mine. Would Molly-in-high-school have liked "Defying Gravity"? Well, yes, of course--up to a point. It's undeniably a great emotional turning point/defining moment kind of song. It gives a nice bounce to your step, makes you stand up a little straighter, a little stronger, a little bolder, makes you eager to belt out those lyrics whether or not you're actually capable of belting all that very well or not--in short, it's kinda the vocal definition of an anthem. But would Molly-in-high-school have loved the song to the point of inhabiting it, of declaring to the world that it, like, totally defined her? As much as my current iTunes play count might hint otherwise now, I think the truth is no--it's a terribly upbeat song, after all, and, truth be told, at 15 and 16, I liked my anthems far more heartrending and melodramatic and tragic ("On My Own," anyone? Or "Someone Else's Story" ?).

Of course, pondering any topic too deeply tends to eventually lead me back in one direction--to books and writing, and Glee and its soundtrack is no exception. It's not a new trend for writers to talk about the playlists they create as they write their novels--the music they feel captures the moods and world of their story. I'm curious, though--if asked directly, what would your book's main character (ooh! or your book's antagonist!) tell you is the song (and it doesn't have to be musical-theatre inspired, of course) that's his or her anthem, that one song that defines the world as she/he sees it, or defines the very core of him/herself? The song that she or he would put on repeat over and over and over when they're feeling lost or alone, or trying to pump up him or herself or a big moment? What song makes your character feel like the songwriter practically crawled inside his or her brain (or heart) and somehow managed to express everything that was in it?

As ever, I love to peek inside writerly brains, so if you're game, tell us in the comments comments about what your main character's (or other characters') anthems would be. And just for kicks, I'd definitely love to hear what your own anthem was when you were in high school, too.

(P.S. Also? If you're a writer who's got a Glee-like manuscript--for the love of Lerner & Lowe, please have your agent send it my way!)

Phantom of the New Moon: A Reprise of Sorts

2009-11-16T22:32:00.015-05:00

In honor of tonight's New Moon movie premiere, I'd like to take this moment to reprise what remains perhaps the most brilliant and insightful blog post I've ever written (housed on what was formerly the Bowen Press editorial team blog; now the blog of Brenda Bowen, literary agent extraordinaire).

Enjoy!

Writing Wisdom from a Master

2009-11-09T14:47:00.007-05:00

"Great Rules of Writing"

Do not put statements in the negative form.
And don't start sentences with a conjunction.
If you reread your work, you will find on rereading that
a great deal of repetition can be avoided by rereading and editing.
Never use a long word when a diminutive one will do.
Unqualified superlatives are the worst of all.
De-accession euphemisms.
If any word is improper at the end of a sentence, a linking verb is.
Avoid trendy locutions that sound flaky.
Last, but not least, avoid cliches like the plague.
~William Safire

You tell me: What do you know to be true?

2009-11-02T23:15:00.003-05:00

In my internet wanderings, I recently came across the blog White Hot Truth. While I don't know its author, writer/entrepreneur/ creative-type Danielle La Porte, I was quite taken with some of her thoughts and reflections. In fact, I'll go off on a tangent here before I even really start, to share a fantastic quote from one of her posts: "Everybody is amazing at something...and your genius is a cousin to your joy." I think she's totally right, on both counts!

But what set off my editor-radar most especially as I prowled through Danielle's blog were two of the "burning questions" that she commonly asks in one form or another, when she interviews her fellow outside-the-box-types (like nonconformists or financial visionaries).

The first: What do you know to be true, unquestionably beyond doubt, certain with every cell of your being, completely, passionately, righteously certain?

And the second: What was the dumbest thing that you used to believe?

One of my first thoughts upon reading these questions was how very much I'd love to pose these same questions to book characters (and their respective writers). Because I think that for a character to feel truly real, the writer has to know--and the reader has to understand--the deeply, sometimes secretively, held things about a character, whether or not they're explicitly a part of the story. So I'm borrowing these vibrant questions (per the disclaimer on Danielle's site that says that republishing her stuff is cool, as long as she's credited), tweaking them a bit, and passing them along as potential inspiration.

So if you're in the mood for a writing exercise, take the main character(s) in whichever book you're working on right now. And wherever you are in the story right now, be it beginning, ending, or murky middle, pause and ponder these questions. (If you're revising, rather than writing, try asking question #1 twice, at both the story's beginning and end, to get a good glimpse--hopefully--of your character's full arc/growth.)

1. What thing(s), minor or monumental, does your character know to be TRUE in this moment? What, for her/him, is unquestionably beyond doubt, certain with every cell of his/her being, beyond all hesitation--simply and inescapably and absolutely true?

2. [This one's my own addition.] Does anyone know that your character believes the above to be true? (Who? Or if not, why not?)

3.What was the dumbest thing that your character once believed to be true that s/he later learned wasn't entirely true...or wasn't true at all?

Ahhh. Good stuff, eh?

Feel like sharing what you uncover? Go for it--I'd be delighted to "meet" some deeply authentic, bare-souled characters in the comments section--or for you to blog about these ideas on your own blog, and post the link back here. And, truth be told, when you're done thinking about these questions for your characters, they're pretty fantastic to ponder for yourself, too....

Go, Nano-ers, Go!

2009-11-01T23:08:00.006-05:00

Annnndddd....they're off!!

(Is it coincidence that National Novel Writing Month kicked off on the same day as the New York Marathon? I think it's probably not!) Good luck and happy writing to all those attempting this year's NaNoWriMo!

Good luck, too, to those who aren't officially na-no-ing, but who are hunkered down with revisions, or focusing on writing picture book manuscripts, or on illustration work, or whose lives/personal creative processes don't line up well with the rules of NaNo, but who are trying to stay deeply focused on their creative life this month, nonetheless.

I have only one small word of advice for you writerly types: JOY. Over the next 30 days--amidst the discipline, and the insanity, and the word counts, and the late nights and early mornings and other stolen moments of writing, and the self-induced pressure and resultant potential meltdowns, and visions of proud sharing of your story, and the desire to "win" Nano--may you, most of all, find true joy in the simple act of placing words on pages, and in the creative life you're living out, day by day!

Poetry Friday: Halloween Edition

2009-10-30T16:56:00.013-04:00

In honor of all things spooky and Halloween-ish, I give you a favorite from the incomparable Shel Silverstein. "Batty the Bat" was the very first poem I ever memorized--I proudly learned it by heart in first grade!

"Batty the Bat"
by Shel Silverstein

The baby bat
Screamed out in fright,
'Turn on the dark,
I'm afraid of the light.'

Poetry Friday: "Wealth"

2009-10-23T17:18:00.007-04:00

Publishing salaries are, in a word, woeful. But by the standards of wonderful contemporary children's poet, Naomi Shihab Nye, I'm wealthy and then some--in fact, I'd say I'm quite probably a millionaire! I hope you can say the same.

(P.S. Isn't the line that reads, "Her life starts everywhere" just exquisite?)

Wealth
by Naomi Shihab Nye

Who's rich?
The boy with a book he hasn't read yet.
The girl with a tower of books by her bed.
She opens and opens and opens.
Her life starts everywhere.

Who's rich?
Anyone befriended again and again by a well-loved book.

This is a wealth
we never lose.

You tell me: book evangelizing

2009-10-15T22:00:00.001-04:00

Here's a question I get asked A LOT, in one variation or another. "What have you read lately that's good?"/ "What's your favorite book published this year?" / "What are you excited about?" Sometimes, those questions are the perfect lead-in for me to talk about one of the recently-published books that I've edited or worked/assisted on (and I like to think I've helped to sell at least a few books that way!), which is something that I never get tired of doing.

Other times when I get asked this question, it would be a bit gauche to mention books that I've had a hand in putting out into the world. Happily, though, I'm not the only editor whose authors have written great books, so quite often I also find myself evangelizing for other books and authors who I admire. And I think that evangelize (which Websters defines as "having crusading zeal,") is exactly the right word, because I think there's something in all of us readers that instinctively wants to share the goodness of books that we truly connect to/admire/find truth in. It's easy, these days, to click a button that makes you a "fan" of something, or to retweet someone else's praise--and these are good things, and important tools in today's world. But I don't think those sort of automatic, reflexive actions take the place of honest, person-to-person getting-worked-up-about-a-book excitement (though a great thing about today's world is that I don't think those exchanges have to happen in person anymore, thanks to blogs, goodreads, facebook, twitter, etc.).

I'm curious how spreading the word about books looks and feels to those outside the industry, though, as I know my perspective sometimes gets skewed by being surrounded by so many professionally bookish types. So think back to the last few books that you haven't been able to stop telling people about. What makes you talk about those books/give them as gifts/make your book group read 'em/lend out your copies/determined to spread the word about them in a zillion other ways? The floor's wide open in the comments--what books (or qualities about books, if you don't feel like naming titles) are you an evangelist for, and why? And how do you find yourself doing your book evangelizing?

Of Coffee and Conversation

2009-10-11T20:39:00.017-04:00

Flying back from the North Dakota Writers Conference today, I had a layover in the Minneapolis/St. Paul airport. I lived in the Twin Cities for a brief but grand summer a number of years ago, and still feel a bit of hometown loyalty to their local chains. In fact, while passing through the airport on my way to North Dakota, I'd already happily grabbed a cup of coffee from Dunn Bros. Coffee during my layover, mentally reminiscing as I drank it about the many hours my then-roommate and I had spent at the Dunn Bros around the corner from her apartment in Loring Park, back in 2001.

This morning, though, there was no Dunn Bros in sight in my terminal, and I was badly in need of caffeine, so I stopped by Caribou Coffee on my way to the gate. As I pulled my wallet out of my bag, the college-age guy at the cash register asked me, "So, where are you headed?"
"Home to New York, " I replied, still half-asleep, but savoring the small thrill it always gives me, even after 7+ years of living here, to claim NYC as my own.
"Cool. Were you traveling for business or pleasure?" he asked.
"Business," I said answered as I opened my wallet, by now a little charmed by this encounter with wide-open midwestern friendliness--the kind that one does not typically find at, say, NYC airport coffee shops.
"What kind of work do you do?" he asked.
"I'm a children's book editor," I replied--another answer that always gives me a small thrill when I get to say it out loud--but not really looking at him at this point, since I was digging through my wallet for the correct change.
There was an extended moment of silence, which I didn't quite notice at first because I sort-of figured the conversation was finished and plus I was busy looking for one more stupid dime, and then the coffee guy said, "THAT is awesome. I ask a lot of people that question, and that's one of the best answers I've ever heard."
I couldn't help giving him a big grin then, and telling him the truth, as I handed over my money. "Thanks," I said. "And yeah...it's my dream job."
"That's awesome, too," he said, handing me my coffee.
And suddenly I wasn't half-asleep anymore, and I wanted to talk to that kid more, to find out what had made him decide to start asking his series of questions to each customer that came his way, and what other jobs he'd considered awesome, and what kind of job he might like to have one day...but there was a line five caffeine-needing people deep behind me, and I had barely enough time left to get to my gate as it was. So instead I let the moment pass and simply said, "Hey, thanks for asking," as I turned away. And while I stirred milk into my coffee at the condiment station, though, I heard him ask the next person, "So where are you heading?...." and I found myself craning to hear the answer, too. And then I walked away with a smile that I found myself holding onto for the next several hours, which is no small thing in an airport these days.

So thanks, anonymous coffee shop barista dude, for taking the time to engage a sleepy traveler in conversation, and for reminding me that yeah, my job *is* awesome, and that I'm really, truly lucky because of that. And even better, thanks for being a reminder of just how engaging and interesting all of life--even early mornings at work!--can be, if you view every person that passes through your corner of the world as someone with a potentially fascinating story to tell you.

Poetry Friday / National Poetry Day (UK edition): "Juliet"

2009-10-08T21:47:00.005-04:00

It's National Poetry Day in the UK today, but I figure that's reason enough for it to be a poetry day here on the blog--and I'll be traveling tomorrow to the North Dakota Writers Conference, so you can also count this as my early contribution to Poetry Friday.

In honor of the UK's honoring of poetry, here's one from French/British poet Hillaire Belloc. And while I don't think he meant it to be about YA literature, it's not so very far off, is it?

Juliet
by Hillaire Belloc

How did the party go in Portman Square?
I cannot tell you: Juliet was not there.

And how did Lady Gaster's party go?
Juliet was next to me and I do not know.

Update: New Office, No Brain

2009-10-06T06:24:00.002-04:00

Those of you following along at home know that HarperChildren's moved offices this week. So you'll have to pardon the lack of enthralling posts for a bit longer, please--because I'm still trying to figure out which one of these boxes I packed my brain into!* Those of you with brains firmly in place, however, should take this moment to hop over to the Waxman Literary Agency blog, and soak up the wisdom and good humor of my pal Holly Root, who is offering some smart, well-reasoned, and well-explained thoughts about career planning for writers.

*Y'know, it's just occurred to me that for being a children's book publisher, we sure are sadly lacking in the area of elves, (either of The Elves and the Shoemaker variety or the Harry Potter House Elf variety) sprites, fairies, and other magical critters who would be really helpful when it comes to unpacking and organizing. Points to anyone who can locate some for us.