Theodore Boone: the Abduction is the second in John Grisham's series about a thirteen year-old boy-turned-lawyer...almost. Theo is the son of two attorneys and has grown up with the law. He fully expects to become a trial lawyer and then quite probably a famous judge when he is out of school. In the meantime, he tries dilegently to solve all the "legal" problems his friends and classmates have. He knows every attorney, law clerk, bailiff, and most of the judges in the town where he lives, and spends as much time as he can get away with in the courtroom when a trial is going on.
But all this knowledge doesn't help him one bit when his best friend, April Finnemore, disappears in the middle of the night. She is not the kind of kid to run away...the whole town agrees on this. But the house shows no signs of break-in, which means either she has run away, or she knows the person who took her, and let him in the house while she was alone.
Theo knows more about April than most anyone else: her father is an aging, wannabee rock star who is always off somewhere with the scudsy band he plays with, made up of other aging, drug-using wannabees who can't manage to score gigs in anything but seedy bars and run-down dance halls; her mother is very often not at home, as she wasn't on the night April went missing, she takes pills for everything that could possibly ail her, and April thinks she is losing her mind.
None of this matters when Jake Leeper appears on the scene. Jake is a convicted long-time criminal who has escaped from prison, and shows up in the small town of Strattenburg. When it comes to light that April had become his "pen pal" while he was in prison...why, no one knows...the police forget about anything but Jake and, when he is captured, making him tell them what he did to April. They are convinced he kidnapped her, but have no evidence of any kind to back that assumption up.
However, Theo is determined to find April himself, or find out what happened to her, so he and his next-best friend, Chase, take it upon themselves to, first of all, find April's father. Once again, Theo goes to his Uncle Ike for help. Ike has gotten a note from someone who claims the band April's father is in, Plunder, is down in Raleigh, North Carolina, playing in bad bars and for college frat houses.
Theo and Chase begin tracking down all the fraternities and sororities in North Carolina on the Internet, calling the most likely ones, and finally track Plunder down to one location. Through much subterfuge and not-quite-little-white-lies, Theo gets Ike to "borrow" one of the family cars, while Theo's parents are out of town, and the two of them race to North Carolina, find the fraternity where the band is, find April who has run away, all right, but with her father and without her mother's knowledge, and bring April home.
To wind the story up: Jake Leeper is returned to prison, April's father and mother both promise to enter counseling and rehab, Theo's mother becomes April's temporary guardian until something either positive or negative happens with her family, and Theo is once again the hero of the day for finding April.
Okay. Once again Grisham has failed to write a convincing Middle Grade novel. Kids may like it, that's true, but from my perspective as a Middle Grade author, it fails miserably in many ways. Theo relies too heavily upon adults to help him, either with the solution to the problem, or help in carrying out the solution. His parents, Ike, and of course, Judge Gantry, are always heavily endowed as secondary characters.
The story drags. There is far too much dialogue that doesn't go anywhere, and that is more often between the adults in the story than between Theo and any other kid. There are pages and pages devoted to the police detectives, Slater and Capshaw, and their interrogations of Jake Leeper, and in which there is no Theo to be seen or heard from. Chapter Seven, for example, is a 10 and 1/2 page chapter that is devoted almost entirely to an interrogation of Leeper, with only the first 3 1/2 pages having anything to do with Theo, and in that, no action, no dialogue, just narration.
All in all, this story bored me as much as the first one. There is no real mystery, no danger, no excitement, and certainly NO suspense, because the reader already knows that Theo is going to save the day, BUT with the help of the adults.
Most people reading this, after reading the first in the series, Theodore Boone: Kid Lawyer, would have assumed ( at least, I did) that it was a sequel to the first, but it's not. However, on the very last page, a reference was made to the first story, wherein a murder trial ended in a mistrial, again thanks to Theo with the help of adults. This time, Theo's friend, Judge Gantry, told him that a new trial had been set for Pete Duffy ( the defendent in the first story). So obviously, there will be a third book in this series.
Mr. Grisham, you have once again disappointed me. I DO wish you would read up on middle grade stories by "real" middle grade authors! I'm not at all sure I will be reading anything more about Theodore Boone. I LOVE your books...but only when they are for adult readers.
Until next time,
That's a wrap.
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Friday, August 19, 2011
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Tuesday's Teaser: Journey Into Writing: The Middle
How did you begin your writing career? Was writing a passion from childhood or teen years on? Or did you take it up later in life, as I did?
I've always loved to write, and in an earlier post described that beginning, but then I seemed to take a whole "lifetime" off before I began seriously again.
In July, 2006, I signed up for my first Institute of Children's Literature course, and had a wonderful instructor. The course was terrific, and I learned so much that I didn't know I didn't know! For my first non-fiction assignment, I decided to write a "creative" NF piece about a small part of the Amazon Rainforest. My instructor was very impressed, and told me I should start thinking about writing a NF article for publication. Publication? So soon? I was amazed that she thought I could actually write something publishable after being in the course for only a short time.
I was encouraged, however, so I started looking through guidelines for some of the children's magazines. Nothing came of that effort at the time, however, as I got caught up in the next assignments. When my second NF asignment came up, I went back to the guidelines and saw that a future issue of ODYSSEY was going to be about...get this...POOP! Yes, that's right, all about POOP. The first thing that came to my mind was, of course, horse manure...er, poop...and that brought to mind dung beetles. We had dung beetles all over our ranch because they ate the horse poop. So I wrote my assignment about dung beetles ( you have no idea how many different kinds of dung beetles there are...each type eats only a certain kind of poop...and that's probably more than you ever wanted to know about poop and beetles, right?)
Okay, to get back to the point: I wrote the assignment, my instructor made a very observations, and wanted me to make it more factual rather than "creative." I worked on it aside from the assignment, and in doing some Internet research, I came across a great article by an Entymologist from the University of Montana. I decided to send him an email, tell him who I was and what I was doing, and see if he would give me an interview. I figured the worst that could happen was for him to delete the email. But he didn't...he replied, asked me to send him my article and he'd critique it. I did, he was impressed, gave me an interview, and the article was published in the POOP! issue of ODYSSEY magazine. My first publication! I was thrilled!
When I completed the first ICL course, my instructor recommended that I take the Advanced Novel Writing course. I not only took one, and completed a contemporary novel for Middle Grade girls, but I took a second course, and completed an Historical Fiction taking place in pre-Civil War days for YA boys age 12 to 14. Neither of them has been published yet, but I'm confident that I will find the right agent or publisher in time. Hopefully.
In the meantime, however, I've published several short stories, including one in a children's anthology, and some poetry. The poetry is for adults, however, not for children.
Now, I have a couple of stories that I'm ready to send out, and I'm working on two new novels: one is another historical story, about a traveling carnival, a freak show, a disfigured MC, and a murder, all taking place during the Great Depression; the second is also a murder mystery, but it is a much darker story, taking place in modern times. Both are Young Adult.
My story has come to an end, but not my journey. It continues, for giving up is not an option. This is a road not less traveled, but well traveled, with all the accompanying twists, turns, detours, dead-ends, and potholes, but nevertheless, one which I believe will ultimately lead to my destination.
Are you traveling it with me?
Until next time,
That's a wrap.
I've always loved to write, and in an earlier post described that beginning, but then I seemed to take a whole "lifetime" off before I began seriously again.
In July, 2006, I signed up for my first Institute of Children's Literature course, and had a wonderful instructor. The course was terrific, and I learned so much that I didn't know I didn't know! For my first non-fiction assignment, I decided to write a "creative" NF piece about a small part of the Amazon Rainforest. My instructor was very impressed, and told me I should start thinking about writing a NF article for publication. Publication? So soon? I was amazed that she thought I could actually write something publishable after being in the course for only a short time.
I was encouraged, however, so I started looking through guidelines for some of the children's magazines. Nothing came of that effort at the time, however, as I got caught up in the next assignments. When my second NF asignment came up, I went back to the guidelines and saw that a future issue of ODYSSEY was going to be about...get this...POOP! Yes, that's right, all about POOP. The first thing that came to my mind was, of course, horse manure...er, poop...and that brought to mind dung beetles. We had dung beetles all over our ranch because they ate the horse poop. So I wrote my assignment about dung beetles ( you have no idea how many different kinds of dung beetles there are...each type eats only a certain kind of poop...and that's probably more than you ever wanted to know about poop and beetles, right?)
Okay, to get back to the point: I wrote the assignment, my instructor made a very observations, and wanted me to make it more factual rather than "creative." I worked on it aside from the assignment, and in doing some Internet research, I came across a great article by an Entymologist from the University of Montana. I decided to send him an email, tell him who I was and what I was doing, and see if he would give me an interview. I figured the worst that could happen was for him to delete the email. But he didn't...he replied, asked me to send him my article and he'd critique it. I did, he was impressed, gave me an interview, and the article was published in the POOP! issue of ODYSSEY magazine. My first publication! I was thrilled!
When I completed the first ICL course, my instructor recommended that I take the Advanced Novel Writing course. I not only took one, and completed a contemporary novel for Middle Grade girls, but I took a second course, and completed an Historical Fiction taking place in pre-Civil War days for YA boys age 12 to 14. Neither of them has been published yet, but I'm confident that I will find the right agent or publisher in time. Hopefully.
In the meantime, however, I've published several short stories, including one in a children's anthology, and some poetry. The poetry is for adults, however, not for children.
Now, I have a couple of stories that I'm ready to send out, and I'm working on two new novels: one is another historical story, about a traveling carnival, a freak show, a disfigured MC, and a murder, all taking place during the Great Depression; the second is also a murder mystery, but it is a much darker story, taking place in modern times. Both are Young Adult.
My story has come to an end, but not my journey. It continues, for giving up is not an option. This is a road not less traveled, but well traveled, with all the accompanying twists, turns, detours, dead-ends, and potholes, but nevertheless, one which I believe will ultimately lead to my destination.
Are you traveling it with me?
Until next time,
That's a wrap.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Friday's Fare: Review of Theodore Boone:Kid Lawyer
I bought this book some time ago, because John Grisham is one of my favorite authors. My reaction when I had finished reading it was a kind of...hmmm. So I decided to read it again in order to review it.
Theodore Boone is the son of two trial lawyers who have their own firm, in which Theo has his own office. He is in love with the law, and considers himself just a smaller version of a "real" attorney...who will someday take the Bar. He is on a first name basis with the law clerks and bailiffs at the courthouse, since he hangs out there when he's not in school. And when he is in school, all his classmates come to him for legal advice. He also regularly visits one of the prominent judges who hears criminal cases.
At the moment, there is a notorious murder trial going on, at which Judge Gantry is presiding. Theo talks to him about the trial, and although Grisham is careful not to let the judge say anything prejudicial or reveal any legal thoughts or opinions, in real life, a thirteen year old kid would not be allowed in to the office of a presently sitting judge, most especially one who is hearing a murder case.
During the murder trial, a friend of Theo's tells him privately that his cousin, who is an illegal alien, has some key evidence that will definitely prove the suspect in this case is guilty. However, the boy is afraid to come forward to the authorities because of his immigration status. Now Theo has a moral dilemma: how to get this evidence before the judge, and not rat out his friend's cousin. Things become especially serious when it looks like the defendent is going to walk out a free man, because there is not enough evidence to convict him...unless Theo comes forward. Which he finally does, but not until he brings his parents, uncle, and Judge Gantry in on the whole problem. Once he does that, the adults work together with him to solve the problem of key evidence and illegal alien. The ending is flat, without interest, conviction of the defendent is left up in the air...or...up to being solved in the sequel that is sure to come.
John Grisham is a master storyteller, but perhaps he should review some of the really good books written specifically for MG/YA by MG/YA authors. This book drags. It takes 50 pages to get to the first court scene, and from then on, nothing spectacular happens. Unfortunately, nothing spectacular has happened prior to that, either. It is a wandering discourse on criminal law, with Theo sounding just a little too much like an encyclopedia on law.
Theo is too perfect, so much so he got on my nerves with my second reading, and he is a one-dimensional character, as are all the characters in this book. It is totally unrealistic, for one thing...kids might talk to him about some small problem they are having, but to have him actually go to court in their behalf ( so okay, it was only Animal Court, but still...) and speak as their "attorney" is more than a little far-fetched. When one of his teachers asks him for legal advice, suspension of disbelief goes down the drain!
There is almost no action in this book, merely a series of conversations that lead...I could say, nowhere, but I guess ultimately they lead to the conclusion of the story...such as it is. There is no suspense, no mystery ( shame on you, John!), no danger, a predictible conclusion which isn't really a conclusion at all, because the murder defendent walks out of the courthouse, supposedly with a new trial hanging over his head...but is it really?
My first reading of this book was indecisive, my second read unsatisfactory. The sequel is on its way, but now I'm dreading having to read it! I'm afraid it's going to be more of the same. I wanted and expected Theodore Boone: Kid Lawyer to be the kind of legal thriller...only kid style...that John Grisham usually writes. It wasn't. I am disappointed.
Until next time,
That's a wrap.
Theodore Boone is the son of two trial lawyers who have their own firm, in which Theo has his own office. He is in love with the law, and considers himself just a smaller version of a "real" attorney...who will someday take the Bar. He is on a first name basis with the law clerks and bailiffs at the courthouse, since he hangs out there when he's not in school. And when he is in school, all his classmates come to him for legal advice. He also regularly visits one of the prominent judges who hears criminal cases.
At the moment, there is a notorious murder trial going on, at which Judge Gantry is presiding. Theo talks to him about the trial, and although Grisham is careful not to let the judge say anything prejudicial or reveal any legal thoughts or opinions, in real life, a thirteen year old kid would not be allowed in to the office of a presently sitting judge, most especially one who is hearing a murder case.
During the murder trial, a friend of Theo's tells him privately that his cousin, who is an illegal alien, has some key evidence that will definitely prove the suspect in this case is guilty. However, the boy is afraid to come forward to the authorities because of his immigration status. Now Theo has a moral dilemma: how to get this evidence before the judge, and not rat out his friend's cousin. Things become especially serious when it looks like the defendent is going to walk out a free man, because there is not enough evidence to convict him...unless Theo comes forward. Which he finally does, but not until he brings his parents, uncle, and Judge Gantry in on the whole problem. Once he does that, the adults work together with him to solve the problem of key evidence and illegal alien. The ending is flat, without interest, conviction of the defendent is left up in the air...or...up to being solved in the sequel that is sure to come.
John Grisham is a master storyteller, but perhaps he should review some of the really good books written specifically for MG/YA by MG/YA authors. This book drags. It takes 50 pages to get to the first court scene, and from then on, nothing spectacular happens. Unfortunately, nothing spectacular has happened prior to that, either. It is a wandering discourse on criminal law, with Theo sounding just a little too much like an encyclopedia on law.
Theo is too perfect, so much so he got on my nerves with my second reading, and he is a one-dimensional character, as are all the characters in this book. It is totally unrealistic, for one thing...kids might talk to him about some small problem they are having, but to have him actually go to court in their behalf ( so okay, it was only Animal Court, but still...) and speak as their "attorney" is more than a little far-fetched. When one of his teachers asks him for legal advice, suspension of disbelief goes down the drain!
There is almost no action in this book, merely a series of conversations that lead...I could say, nowhere, but I guess ultimately they lead to the conclusion of the story...such as it is. There is no suspense, no mystery ( shame on you, John!), no danger, a predictible conclusion which isn't really a conclusion at all, because the murder defendent walks out of the courthouse, supposedly with a new trial hanging over his head...but is it really?
My first reading of this book was indecisive, my second read unsatisfactory. The sequel is on its way, but now I'm dreading having to read it! I'm afraid it's going to be more of the same. I wanted and expected Theodore Boone: Kid Lawyer to be the kind of legal thriller...only kid style...that John Grisham usually writes. It wasn't. I am disappointed.
Until next time,
That's a wrap.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Wednesday's Wandering: Why Do You Blog?
Everyone talks about how having a blog and being on Facebook or Twitter are important for "building a social presence." It's important to have something about yourself "out there" for the roaming agent or editor to find.
Recently I've been researching agents, and I've come across a couple of interesting remarks from interviews with certain agents. I'm going to share them, and I hope you'll tell me what you think.
The first was a contradiction of much I've read. This agent said that she had never understood why writers put blogs up when they had nothing particularly interesting to say. (Wow, that's kinda a slap in the face, right?) She went on to say that most of the agents she knew were far too busy to go around "surfing" the Internet in the off chance they would find the blog, or Facebook/Twitter page, of a writer whom they would be interested in representing; she said that when she read a query that excited her enough to ask for a partial, she was far more interested in reading the partial, perhaps asking for a full, and then TALKING to the writer, than she was in wasting her time reading a blog. She claimed that most blogs were full of posts unrelated to writing, and that often they were simply full of the writer's life, her/his kids and their activities, etc., and she didn't care to waste her time on them.
Hmmm.....
The second interview was more enlightening. This agent said that she often went to a writer's blog, but that it was only after reading a query, she didn't have the time to "surf" for writers nor did she know of any agent who did have that kind of time. She said that when she read a query that interested her, even if she didn't ask for a partial, she would go to the writer's blog...but not Facebook or Twitter...just to see what the writer offered.
"Offered." That's when this interview became interesting. She asked, What does the writer offer on her blog? Does she post about different elements in writing, offering help or suggestions to other writers? Does she offer other blogs and websites which are specific to writers? Does she do reviews of books written in her genre or in the genres of writers she knows? What research resources does she post for the benefit of others, especially if she writes non-fiction? Or...does she blog just about the everyday happenings in her life?
She went on to say that she liked to see blogs that were open to comments, and that possibly had a page for a discussion about some particular post. What she didn't say, however, was what effect the blogs she looked at had on her in terms of offering representation, and I was disappointed in that. Did they change her mind about repping that particular writer, either in a positive or negative way? And if so, why? But she didn't go any further with her comments.
These two interviews were taken a couple of years ago, and I was also disappointed to find out from Query Tracker that the second agent had retired at the end of 2009.
My point today is to ask, what do you blog about, and why? Do you post a lot about your personal life and what you do, do you post about current events and ask for opinions or a discussion, or do you post different things that you hope will be beneficial to other writers? Or do you post something entirely different from the above?
There are many blogs, both of writers I know and those I don't, that I find interesting, entertaining, and of value. There are some I've read that are pretty boring, to be truthful. As a retired teacher, I guess I'm never really through with teaching, and I post a lot of things that I've learned throughout this writing journey that I hope will be of help and some value to those who read them. I'm not one for posting a lot about my personal life, although I've started an on-going "edition" ( or whatever you want to call it!) about my own writing journey. I truly hope that my posts...hmm, well, most of them anyway!...are not boring!
But YOU? Why do you blog? What do you blog about? Do you like posts about different elements of writing, and think you might find a bit of a gem that you didn't know before, or do you prefer those blogs that are mostly personal in nature? How many different things do you usually post about, and do you have "themes" for your posts? Is there anything in particular you would like to see on this blog?
Let me know what you think.
Until next time,
That's a wrap.
Recently I've been researching agents, and I've come across a couple of interesting remarks from interviews with certain agents. I'm going to share them, and I hope you'll tell me what you think.
The first was a contradiction of much I've read. This agent said that she had never understood why writers put blogs up when they had nothing particularly interesting to say. (Wow, that's kinda a slap in the face, right?) She went on to say that most of the agents she knew were far too busy to go around "surfing" the Internet in the off chance they would find the blog, or Facebook/Twitter page, of a writer whom they would be interested in representing; she said that when she read a query that excited her enough to ask for a partial, she was far more interested in reading the partial, perhaps asking for a full, and then TALKING to the writer, than she was in wasting her time reading a blog. She claimed that most blogs were full of posts unrelated to writing, and that often they were simply full of the writer's life, her/his kids and their activities, etc., and she didn't care to waste her time on them.
Hmmm.....
The second interview was more enlightening. This agent said that she often went to a writer's blog, but that it was only after reading a query, she didn't have the time to "surf" for writers nor did she know of any agent who did have that kind of time. She said that when she read a query that interested her, even if she didn't ask for a partial, she would go to the writer's blog...but not Facebook or Twitter...just to see what the writer offered.
"Offered." That's when this interview became interesting. She asked, What does the writer offer on her blog? Does she post about different elements in writing, offering help or suggestions to other writers? Does she offer other blogs and websites which are specific to writers? Does she do reviews of books written in her genre or in the genres of writers she knows? What research resources does she post for the benefit of others, especially if she writes non-fiction? Or...does she blog just about the everyday happenings in her life?
She went on to say that she liked to see blogs that were open to comments, and that possibly had a page for a discussion about some particular post. What she didn't say, however, was what effect the blogs she looked at had on her in terms of offering representation, and I was disappointed in that. Did they change her mind about repping that particular writer, either in a positive or negative way? And if so, why? But she didn't go any further with her comments.
These two interviews were taken a couple of years ago, and I was also disappointed to find out from Query Tracker that the second agent had retired at the end of 2009.
My point today is to ask, what do you blog about, and why? Do you post a lot about your personal life and what you do, do you post about current events and ask for opinions or a discussion, or do you post different things that you hope will be beneficial to other writers? Or do you post something entirely different from the above?
There are many blogs, both of writers I know and those I don't, that I find interesting, entertaining, and of value. There are some I've read that are pretty boring, to be truthful. As a retired teacher, I guess I'm never really through with teaching, and I post a lot of things that I've learned throughout this writing journey that I hope will be of help and some value to those who read them. I'm not one for posting a lot about my personal life, although I've started an on-going "edition" ( or whatever you want to call it!) about my own writing journey. I truly hope that my posts...hmm, well, most of them anyway!...are not boring!
But YOU? Why do you blog? What do you blog about? Do you like posts about different elements of writing, and think you might find a bit of a gem that you didn't know before, or do you prefer those blogs that are mostly personal in nature? How many different things do you usually post about, and do you have "themes" for your posts? Is there anything in particular you would like to see on this blog?
Let me know what you think.
Until next time,
That's a wrap.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Friday's Fare: Last Night I Cried
Last night I was watching a special news broadcast about the terrible famine in Africa. The most horrible part was the headline: 29,000 children under the age of 5 died of starvation in the last 3 months.
Twenty-nine thousand. That is an astounding number. All children, all under the age of 5 years old. That is 1/4...one quarter...of an entire generation, in terms of age. It's not something I can completely comprehend. The number alone...what about the children over the age of 5...how many of them are dead, dying, starving to death?
I was mesmerized by the pictures on the TV in front of me. The faces of the women...almost all of the adult refugess are women...and the children of all ages clustered around them...the hopelessness, the fear, and the grief on the women's faces, the pleading in the eyes of the younger children, and the emptiness on the faces of the older children who already know there is no life for them. I cried for those children and for their mothers.
The longer I watched, the more astonished I became. The camera roved over literally thousands of make-shift tents and huts being used as homes, it lingered on women lining up for what little food and water was being handed out by rescue workers, and it played gently upon the children of all ages...some who sat silently, others who tried to play with whatever ball or piece of a toy was near-by. Why was I astonished?
Because in all of that despair, the only DIRT was on the ground.
The women were dressed in the long dresses of their culture, all of which were neat and in one piece, and their hair was perfectly braided; the children, even those playing around on the ground, had clean faces, arms, and hands, and no matter how ragged their clothes were, they were also clean. The camera swung by many different tents, some with the occupants sitting inside, some were empty. The tents were clean, what few possessions the people had were all placed neatly on chairs or boxes, and if the owners were so lucky as to have a cot for a bed, it was spread nicely with a thin blanket. NO dirt, NO clutter. Amid all that fear and defeat, amid all that hunger, the refugees of Somalia were intent upon making their temporary...or permanent...homes a reflection of the kind of life they had once had...even as they knew they might never have that life again. Or indeed, life of any kind.
The camera left the refugee camp, and went to the borders where the rescue efforts of many different countries, the US included, were being stymied by members of the African Al-Qaeda who want to keep food and supplies away from the refugees. The fighting was horrible, especially considering why it was occurring in the first place. Many times men who inform the rescue people they are "friendlies" who will help deliver the supplies to the camps, merely turn them over to the Al-Qaeda troops who eat and use what they want, then wantonly destroy the rest. It is a crime against humanity, and little seems able to be done.
The camera swings back to one of the camps, and rests upon the face of a young woman who delivered her newborn son in the dirt along the heavily traveled road to this camp. She traveled this road alone, with no one to help in her pain and subsequent delivery. Her husband had been killed in the fighting she had fled. Now, her face is streaked with tears, but she holds this tiny infant, clad only in a piece of a thin...but clean...blanket, in gentle arms. I looked at them, and wondered how long this boychild would survive. Would it be weeks or months...or only days?
How can human beings do this to one another? How can genocide and starvation and the constant random killing and destruction of whole tribes, whole villages, be allowed to continue? What do we, the rational people, have to do to stop this? Or will we continue to be helpless in the face of the demented masses?
Last night I watched TV...last night I cried.
Until next time,
That's a wrap.
Twenty-nine thousand. That is an astounding number. All children, all under the age of 5 years old. That is 1/4...one quarter...of an entire generation, in terms of age. It's not something I can completely comprehend. The number alone...what about the children over the age of 5...how many of them are dead, dying, starving to death?
I was mesmerized by the pictures on the TV in front of me. The faces of the women...almost all of the adult refugess are women...and the children of all ages clustered around them...the hopelessness, the fear, and the grief on the women's faces, the pleading in the eyes of the younger children, and the emptiness on the faces of the older children who already know there is no life for them. I cried for those children and for their mothers.
The longer I watched, the more astonished I became. The camera roved over literally thousands of make-shift tents and huts being used as homes, it lingered on women lining up for what little food and water was being handed out by rescue workers, and it played gently upon the children of all ages...some who sat silently, others who tried to play with whatever ball or piece of a toy was near-by. Why was I astonished?
Because in all of that despair, the only DIRT was on the ground.
The women were dressed in the long dresses of their culture, all of which were neat and in one piece, and their hair was perfectly braided; the children, even those playing around on the ground, had clean faces, arms, and hands, and no matter how ragged their clothes were, they were also clean. The camera swung by many different tents, some with the occupants sitting inside, some were empty. The tents were clean, what few possessions the people had were all placed neatly on chairs or boxes, and if the owners were so lucky as to have a cot for a bed, it was spread nicely with a thin blanket. NO dirt, NO clutter. Amid all that fear and defeat, amid all that hunger, the refugees of Somalia were intent upon making their temporary...or permanent...homes a reflection of the kind of life they had once had...even as they knew they might never have that life again. Or indeed, life of any kind.
The camera left the refugee camp, and went to the borders where the rescue efforts of many different countries, the US included, were being stymied by members of the African Al-Qaeda who want to keep food and supplies away from the refugees. The fighting was horrible, especially considering why it was occurring in the first place. Many times men who inform the rescue people they are "friendlies" who will help deliver the supplies to the camps, merely turn them over to the Al-Qaeda troops who eat and use what they want, then wantonly destroy the rest. It is a crime against humanity, and little seems able to be done.
The camera swings back to one of the camps, and rests upon the face of a young woman who delivered her newborn son in the dirt along the heavily traveled road to this camp. She traveled this road alone, with no one to help in her pain and subsequent delivery. Her husband had been killed in the fighting she had fled. Now, her face is streaked with tears, but she holds this tiny infant, clad only in a piece of a thin...but clean...blanket, in gentle arms. I looked at them, and wondered how long this boychild would survive. Would it be weeks or months...or only days?
How can human beings do this to one another? How can genocide and starvation and the constant random killing and destruction of whole tribes, whole villages, be allowed to continue? What do we, the rational people, have to do to stop this? Or will we continue to be helpless in the face of the demented masses?
Last night I watched TV...last night I cried.
Until next time,
That's a wrap.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Wednesday's Wandering: Review of "As If Being 12 3/4 Isn't Bad Enough, My Mother's Running For President
Donna Gephart's debut novel, As If Being 12 3/4 Isn't Bad Enough, My Mother's Running For President, is a hilarously funny ( as in "snickersnort funny") story about an almost-teen who is having to deal with being the daughter of the Governor of state of Florida...her mother...and the fact that her mother is now campaigning for the nomination vote for President of the United States.
Vanessa Rothrock would like nothing more than to be just another ordinary student at Lawndale Academy. Instead, she is the only student there with a personal bodyguard, who won't even let her go to the Girls Restroom by herself. Not that he goes inside the restroom, of course, but he stands guard outside and refuses to let any other girl in until Vanessa comes out. That doesn't make for the greatest of popularity. As if that wasn't bad enough, she is followed through the day by news reporters and flash cameras, taking her picture at the most awkward and inopportune times.
Vanessa is also the County Spelling Bee Champ who will now go on to the Regionals...with or without her mother present. She wasn't present for the County Bee...she sent her Press Secretary to stand in for her. Is it so awful for her to want her mother to come to the spelling bees, or be home to play Scrabble with like she used to, or to be with her in the ER after she's broken her wrist in PE? Being the Govenor's daughter, particularly when said Govenor is campaigning, ranks very high in the Life Sucks department.
But Vanessa has more to worry about than the upcoming Regionals or even playing Scrabble. There is Reginald Trumbull, the handsomest boy at Lawndale, who Vanessa is in love with and hopes to someday bear his 2.3 children; there are her humongous feet, which automatically trip her whenever there is a news camera fixating on her...and of course will show her picture in all its gawky glory on the 6 o'clock news; there is the Boob Fairy who has not yet graced Vanessa with her presence, thereby making her practically the only 12 and 3/4 year old girl in all of Florida who does not need a bra; there is the fact that she has to make an appointment to see her mother, but her bodyguard is present 24/7; there are the secret love notes she's getting from an unknown admirer, whom she hopes and prays is actually Reginald; and there are those other notes she is getting...the ones that threaten Vanessa's mother with death if Vanessa doesn't talk her out of running for President.
This is a novel which deals with many teenage issues that most pre-teen girls will understand and identity with: mother/daughter relationships; first crushes; embarrassing moments; teenage insecurities and physical awkwardness; and the issue of a working mother who doesn't have time for her daughter, although she loves her very much. It is also a novel that deals with a daughter fearing for the life of her mother, and the sometimes unlikely things she does to "protect" her mother.
I really liked the story, but found some inconsistencies in it. I didn't see a lot of personal growth in Vanessa, until the very end. I think her character could have been developed a little more. One issue I felt was pretty much ignored was that Vanessa's father was killed in a plane crash, but that's all we know. How did she deal with such a tragic event? How did she get from that terrible happening to where her mother is Govenor and now campaigning for the Presidency? That was something I felt must have been a major issue in her life, and yet it was barely touched upon.
The other thing I got fairly bored with was that on practically every page, one of her spelling words, or any "big" word, was S P E L L E D O U T. That got to be a little A N N O Y I N G !
One other thing is that the book is recommended for teens, and I'm not sure how many older teen-age girls would be interested. The awkwardness, the first love, the spelling bees, all seem more appropriate for 9 to 12 year olds. However, having said that, there are certain concepts, like the "Boob Fairy" for one, that even a 9 year old might not be too familiar with. Over all, though, it is a good read, humorous and sensitive at the same time, and one I can highly recommend.
Until next time,
That's a wrap.
Vanessa Rothrock would like nothing more than to be just another ordinary student at Lawndale Academy. Instead, she is the only student there with a personal bodyguard, who won't even let her go to the Girls Restroom by herself. Not that he goes inside the restroom, of course, but he stands guard outside and refuses to let any other girl in until Vanessa comes out. That doesn't make for the greatest of popularity. As if that wasn't bad enough, she is followed through the day by news reporters and flash cameras, taking her picture at the most awkward and inopportune times.
Vanessa is also the County Spelling Bee Champ who will now go on to the Regionals...with or without her mother present. She wasn't present for the County Bee...she sent her Press Secretary to stand in for her. Is it so awful for her to want her mother to come to the spelling bees, or be home to play Scrabble with like she used to, or to be with her in the ER after she's broken her wrist in PE? Being the Govenor's daughter, particularly when said Govenor is campaigning, ranks very high in the Life Sucks department.
But Vanessa has more to worry about than the upcoming Regionals or even playing Scrabble. There is Reginald Trumbull, the handsomest boy at Lawndale, who Vanessa is in love with and hopes to someday bear his 2.3 children; there are her humongous feet, which automatically trip her whenever there is a news camera fixating on her...and of course will show her picture in all its gawky glory on the 6 o'clock news; there is the Boob Fairy who has not yet graced Vanessa with her presence, thereby making her practically the only 12 and 3/4 year old girl in all of Florida who does not need a bra; there is the fact that she has to make an appointment to see her mother, but her bodyguard is present 24/7; there are the secret love notes she's getting from an unknown admirer, whom she hopes and prays is actually Reginald; and there are those other notes she is getting...the ones that threaten Vanessa's mother with death if Vanessa doesn't talk her out of running for President.
This is a novel which deals with many teenage issues that most pre-teen girls will understand and identity with: mother/daughter relationships; first crushes; embarrassing moments; teenage insecurities and physical awkwardness; and the issue of a working mother who doesn't have time for her daughter, although she loves her very much. It is also a novel that deals with a daughter fearing for the life of her mother, and the sometimes unlikely things she does to "protect" her mother.
I really liked the story, but found some inconsistencies in it. I didn't see a lot of personal growth in Vanessa, until the very end. I think her character could have been developed a little more. One issue I felt was pretty much ignored was that Vanessa's father was killed in a plane crash, but that's all we know. How did she deal with such a tragic event? How did she get from that terrible happening to where her mother is Govenor and now campaigning for the Presidency? That was something I felt must have been a major issue in her life, and yet it was barely touched upon.
The other thing I got fairly bored with was that on practically every page, one of her spelling words, or any "big" word, was S P E L L E D O U T. That got to be a little A N N O Y I N G !
One other thing is that the book is recommended for teens, and I'm not sure how many older teen-age girls would be interested. The awkwardness, the first love, the spelling bees, all seem more appropriate for 9 to 12 year olds. However, having said that, there are certain concepts, like the "Boob Fairy" for one, that even a 9 year old might not be too familiar with. Over all, though, it is a good read, humorous and sensitive at the same time, and one I can highly recommend.
Until next time,
That's a wrap.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Tuesday's Teaser: Journey Into Writing: The Beginning
As writers, we are on a journey. It's a long trip, full of potholes, rough roads, traffic we often can't find an easy way through, signs saying "road closed," and most of all, frustration. The completion of that journey is publication, and is almost always worth that long and tiring trip. Where do we start the journey, and how did we get the impulse to put everything else aside, and...go for it? We all have different stories to tell, and this one is mine.
I was ten years old when I first published. It was a very long poem, not in rhyme, which told about the antics of my three kittens. I was living in a boarding house in Rock Creek, Maryland, with my parents while my father was stationed in Washington, D.C. ( It was during this time that I first saw Congress is action, but that is another story.) My mother thought the poem was great...of course!...so she sent it off to a long-since defunct magazine, The Children's Digest. It was published, I think I received a whole dollar, and I was an author!
The second time I published something, I was twelve years old, and living in Seattle, Washington, while my father was stationed there. We had just come back from Alaska, and before that, from the Philippines. ( yep, I was an Army brat.) I had a Quarter Horse mare, the first horse I'd owned since we left Texas and the ranch. I'd been training her to show, when suddenly she went blind. The vet had no idea why. I was heartbroken, but she was such a good mare, I refused to give up on her. So I continued her training with voice signals to indicate when she came to a jump, or when she needed to turn left or right to avoid running into the fences. I did show her about four months later, and she won several classes. After the show, I wrote an article about her, the training, and her success as a show horse. It was published in the local papers, the major Houston, Texas paper, and in a horse magazine. I guess in those days, "rights" were not a big issue like they are today.
Never in those childhood days did I ever think of writing as a profession. My dream was to become a Musical Theatre singer, which I did at the age of 13. In fact, it wasn't until I was in college that I ever wrote anything that could have been published. I took an Anthropology class, and one of our assignments was to do a project for one of the cultures we had been studying. I chose Japan, and wrote a 20 page book of Haiku poetry. I guess it was pretty good, because my professor had it published for the college library. That was the only other time I attempted poetry of any kind until later in life.
Writing was not even a hobby during the days I was raising my children, nor when I went back to college to finish my degrees. It wasn't until 1996 that I once again wrote something that could possibly be published...some day! I was sitting at the computer one evening in December, 1996, catching up on some horse-related work ( my husband and I had a ranch, and bred, raised and trained Appaloosas), when from out of the blue, an idea came to me about a cockatoo parrot and the North Star. Crazy, huh? But that idea turned in the first of a series of short stories about Great Father ( my name for God, Jehovah, Jesus, Allah, or whatever one wants to call their religious Supreme Being) and his Great Beasts...Lion, Elephant, and Cheetah. And of course, various other characters like Little Donkey, Keira the African Grey Parrot, Goofy the Goffin's Cockatoo, and so on.
There were stories like The Cockatoo and the North Star, my first one; Santa Claus and The Red Light Bird...where an African Grey Parrot with its red tail takes over for Rudolph who has a bad cold, and leads Santa and the reindeer on their Christmas Eve journey; Who Stole The Fourth of July?...where Goofy steals the July 4th day from the calendar, so the Beasts can't celebrate, therefore there won't be fireworks' noise to hurt Elephant's ears; The Search for The Rainbow...where the rain has disappeared from the Great Forest, taking with it the Rainbow, so all the flowers and grass and trees and birds are gone, and Great Father has to send Lion, Elephant, and Cheetah out to search for the Rainbow. There were a couple of other stories, including one about Halloween and the three Great Beasts meeting up with a little dragon who had been banished from his home because he couldn't spit fire, and a would-be ghost who had also been banished because he couldn't become invisible.
These stories were written over a couple of years, passed around to friends with kids...who loved them, but then, ALL little kids love stories about talking animals....and then were put away and for the most part, forgotten about.
Christmas, 2005...my daughter sent me a box of books for Christmas: How to Write and Illustrate Children's Books and Get Them Published; The ABCs of Writing For Children; The Writer's Guide to Crafting Stories for Children; and Children's Writer's Word Book. In this awesome gift, she also included a note which said ( paraphrased to be polite) Mom, get off your butt and start writing again!
In July, 2006, I took her...and myself...seriously, and signed up for the first of three courses with the Institute of Children's Literature.
My journey continues...
Until next time,
That's a wrap.
I was ten years old when I first published. It was a very long poem, not in rhyme, which told about the antics of my three kittens. I was living in a boarding house in Rock Creek, Maryland, with my parents while my father was stationed in Washington, D.C. ( It was during this time that I first saw Congress is action, but that is another story.) My mother thought the poem was great...of course!...so she sent it off to a long-since defunct magazine, The Children's Digest. It was published, I think I received a whole dollar, and I was an author!
The second time I published something, I was twelve years old, and living in Seattle, Washington, while my father was stationed there. We had just come back from Alaska, and before that, from the Philippines. ( yep, I was an Army brat.) I had a Quarter Horse mare, the first horse I'd owned since we left Texas and the ranch. I'd been training her to show, when suddenly she went blind. The vet had no idea why. I was heartbroken, but she was such a good mare, I refused to give up on her. So I continued her training with voice signals to indicate when she came to a jump, or when she needed to turn left or right to avoid running into the fences. I did show her about four months later, and she won several classes. After the show, I wrote an article about her, the training, and her success as a show horse. It was published in the local papers, the major Houston, Texas paper, and in a horse magazine. I guess in those days, "rights" were not a big issue like they are today.
Never in those childhood days did I ever think of writing as a profession. My dream was to become a Musical Theatre singer, which I did at the age of 13. In fact, it wasn't until I was in college that I ever wrote anything that could have been published. I took an Anthropology class, and one of our assignments was to do a project for one of the cultures we had been studying. I chose Japan, and wrote a 20 page book of Haiku poetry. I guess it was pretty good, because my professor had it published for the college library. That was the only other time I attempted poetry of any kind until later in life.
Writing was not even a hobby during the days I was raising my children, nor when I went back to college to finish my degrees. It wasn't until 1996 that I once again wrote something that could possibly be published...some day! I was sitting at the computer one evening in December, 1996, catching up on some horse-related work ( my husband and I had a ranch, and bred, raised and trained Appaloosas), when from out of the blue, an idea came to me about a cockatoo parrot and the North Star. Crazy, huh? But that idea turned in the first of a series of short stories about Great Father ( my name for God, Jehovah, Jesus, Allah, or whatever one wants to call their religious Supreme Being) and his Great Beasts...Lion, Elephant, and Cheetah. And of course, various other characters like Little Donkey, Keira the African Grey Parrot, Goofy the Goffin's Cockatoo, and so on.
There were stories like The Cockatoo and the North Star, my first one; Santa Claus and The Red Light Bird...where an African Grey Parrot with its red tail takes over for Rudolph who has a bad cold, and leads Santa and the reindeer on their Christmas Eve journey; Who Stole The Fourth of July?...where Goofy steals the July 4th day from the calendar, so the Beasts can't celebrate, therefore there won't be fireworks' noise to hurt Elephant's ears; The Search for The Rainbow...where the rain has disappeared from the Great Forest, taking with it the Rainbow, so all the flowers and grass and trees and birds are gone, and Great Father has to send Lion, Elephant, and Cheetah out to search for the Rainbow. There were a couple of other stories, including one about Halloween and the three Great Beasts meeting up with a little dragon who had been banished from his home because he couldn't spit fire, and a would-be ghost who had also been banished because he couldn't become invisible.
These stories were written over a couple of years, passed around to friends with kids...who loved them, but then, ALL little kids love stories about talking animals....and then were put away and for the most part, forgotten about.
Christmas, 2005...my daughter sent me a box of books for Christmas: How to Write and Illustrate Children's Books and Get Them Published; The ABCs of Writing For Children; The Writer's Guide to Crafting Stories for Children; and Children's Writer's Word Book. In this awesome gift, she also included a note which said ( paraphrased to be polite) Mom, get off your butt and start writing again!
In July, 2006, I took her...and myself...seriously, and signed up for the first of three courses with the Institute of Children's Literature.
My journey continues...
Until next time,
That's a wrap.
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