Monthly Archives: May 2012
The Age Timeline
When I was six, walking along the sunny sidewalk in front of the apartment building, I imagined age like a timeline of numbers where 6 was big and close at hand, 7 was ahead, slightly smaller, and the other years of age drifted ahead of me in black print against a murky beige background, growing smaller in the distance. I could still see my age of 5 from my last birthday behind me, but it was shrinking, and 4 was smaller still. My older brothers would always be… Continue reading
Young Adult Readers: Inspiration
My audience is supposed to be young adult readers, but it’s useless to think of writing to them as if young adults were all one dark-haired girl curled up with a book in her bed at two in the morning. Talk to a young adult for ten minutes and you’ll find an individual as unique as your grandma. Talk to a young adult for decades, and you’ll find friends of all ages with a common young heart.
Determination
What’s more important than trying to write to teenagers is… Continue reading
World Hopping
A few minutes ago, the rain started outside the window, waking me into this world, so I ran out to fetch the hammock off its poles and haul it to the back porch where it can rest on the rocking chair and stay dry. My daughter’s reading beside me on the couch, and my husband’s making lunch in the kitchen. I’ll join him soon.
In my novel, a girl sits on the bathroom floor, out of line from the cameras, skimming through images on the itablet she stole.… Continue reading
Mother’s Day Books
While we’re celebrating moms, think back to the books that you associate most with your mothers and grandmothers. Here are a few of my favorites:
Pat the Bunny, by Dorothy Kunhardt
I swear my Nonna read this to me every time I visited her house when I was little. I remember sitting side-by-side with her on her green couch and poking my finger through the ring page.
Kristin Lavrensdatter, by Sigrid Undset
Once I grew up, this was the novel Nonna urged me to… Continue reading
Telling Time
One of my worst memories of third grade was when Sr. Mary Frances asked me to go check what time it was for her. A small clock was on the counter near the sink, so I went over to look, but I couldn’t read what the hands were telling me. I didn’t yet know how to tell time. Sister sent over my friend Leslie to help me, and Leslie knew right away what time it was. She told me, I told the teacher, we went back… Continue reading