Pure waiting can make a writer all snarly and resentful, and then plain kill her.  I’ve done my share of waiting to hear from people ever since I first sent out queries to agents and hoped for positive responses.  I waited to hear if they’d like my book, and then I waited to hear if editors would make any offers. Back then, my blood crawled on tiny sharp feet in my veins the entire time I waited, and trying to sleep at night was the worst.  I… Continue reading →

I’m feeling happy I grew up with a lot of daughter-dad love.  Check out this gaze.  Birthmarked is dedicated to my father, Thomond R. O’Brien, Sr.

Caragh M. O'Brien and father, Tomy O'Brien, Sr.

When thunderstorms swept through Connecticut last Thursday afternoon, the sky darkened to an eerie green, rain plunged just outside our open windows, and sirens started wailing in the distance.  Our electricity flickered once, then vanished for good, making the darkness more ominous and bringing the alien sirens closer.  It was creepy, so we rounded up the family and decided to go out to dinner.

We had to take lengthy detours twice to avoid downed trees, but we ate well and expected the lights to be back on by… Continue reading →

This Saturday, I joined writers Adam Gidwitz, Rob Buyea, Ann Haywood Leal, and Michaela MacColl in speaking at the 13^th Annual Shoreline SCBWI Conference in Doe Boyle’s garden in southern Connecticut, and what a relaxed, gracious, inspiring event it was.  I’m still mulling over the wisdom of my fellow presenters, and marveling at how at home I felt among sixty other writers and illustrators, even though I’d met only a handful of them before.  As I witnessed the camaraderie and heard about the support they give each… Continue reading →

Arguably, the most productive thing I’ve done this weekend is mow the grass.  Not that anyone’s arguing.  I also spent an entire day in the hammock reading, mixed up an icy pitcher of home-made lemonade, and watched my daughter make a pear and peach pie from scratch.  Then I ate a wedge or two.

We know how to slow down, here in Connecticut, come Memorial Day weekend.  A neighbor stopped by with her dog to bring me a flyer about a potluck and sat in a… Continue reading →