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.
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Friday, August 12, 2011
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.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Thursday's Thoughts: Blogging and The First Amendment
I read something in the news today that really got me to thinking, plus getting under my skin. It seems that a high school teacher in Philadelphia was suspended for writing on her personal blog about how lazy, rude, obnoxious, and even dim-witted her students were. She wrote about them not listening in class, not wanting to learn, complaining about the grades they received, and so on. In other words, describing to a T how so many teens are today, specifically those in her classes. She did not name a single kid, but directed her remarks to them all. On her personal blog.
A couple of her students found the blog and reported it to administrators, who promptly suspended her. She retained an attorney, and is now getting her job back. The attorney apparently had to remind school officials that what the teacher says on her blog is protected by the First Amendment, particularly when she doesn't name any of the students.
The article brought to mind a couple of things, one being that this teacher is right on about a great many teens today. For the most part, they seem to all feel they are "entitled" to do or say anything they want to, and NOT do or say anything they don't want to. That includes being rude and obnoxious to adults, and not putting forth any effort to learn in school, yet feeling entitled to join the work force without the skills, knowledge and ability to do so. Having worked with young people for many years, I can see for myself the ways in which their attitudes and thinking have changed over the years, and I agree with everything this teacher said.
However, what concerns me the most is the fact that this teacher was suspended over what she said in her blog. A blog on the Internet certainly does not have any expectation of privacy, so there was nothing wrong with her students finding and reading it. But since when can we NOT say what we think and have opinions about in our own blogs? That's where the rub is.
The First Amendment grants us the right to freedom of speech, which carries over into the freedom to write whatever we want to write. (Given, of course, that what is written is not some kind of libel against someone.) However, sometimes it is also brought up as a diversion from the truth, or as an attack upon someone we don't want to hear or something we think should not have been written. That's when I believe it is misused.
When you blog, how often do you really think about what you are writing? By this I mean, do you ever "ponder" if what you are blogging about might be conceived as a violation of the First Amendment? How could it be, when we are guaranteed the right to say anything under that very same amendment? So when this teacher blogged about her opinions of her students, how could she have been suspended by the school board? Obviously, they believed that she did not have the right to state, on her blog, her opinions of the students she tried to teach on a daily basis.
I wonder what this means to us, as writers, would-be book authors, searching for agents and publishers? Should we think twice about what we post on our blogs? It goes without saying that no professional person, published or not, should ever carry on a contentious conversation on their blog about a run-in with an agent or publisher, or how terrible an editor is because she sent back a "bad" rejection letter, or any of the other "mishaps" we all have along our journey to find representation and/or a publisher.
The First Amendment protects our right to say anything we want to say. But how far does that take us in posting on our blogs? On the Internet, everything is out in the open for anyone to see; we certainly can't say that we expect our private thoughts...when we post them...to remain private. I've read some blogs that are really disgusting...in my opinion, that is...with language right out of the garbage can, on any number of subjects, some equally disgusting, and even people. The only option I have, since these same blogs are protected, is to never read them again, and of course, I don't.
Then there are the politically extremist blogs, full of hate and self-righteous indignation towards our present President, as well as those presidents in the past. Do they have the right to spew out their racially charged expletives, their lies, their vicious and venomous remarks? Apparently, they are also protected by the First Amendment, regardless of how decent, intelligent, and objective people feel about them.
Think about it. Do you ever post anything that could be taken as offensive to someone? Not necessarily someone in our literary profession, but by anyone? The First Amendment gives you that right, but with rights, comes responsibility. Many blogs today abuse the rights this amendment gives them, most of them intentionally. How far can a blog go, before that same amendment will no longer protect it? Or, in this country, where freedom of speech is the FIRST freedom we all espouse, will that amendment never recant that freedom, no matter how radically or extremist the speech, written or spoken, becomes?
Where do "rights" end, and responsibility begin?
Think about it. I'd love to hear your opinions.
Until next time,
That's a wrap.
A couple of her students found the blog and reported it to administrators, who promptly suspended her. She retained an attorney, and is now getting her job back. The attorney apparently had to remind school officials that what the teacher says on her blog is protected by the First Amendment, particularly when she doesn't name any of the students.
The article brought to mind a couple of things, one being that this teacher is right on about a great many teens today. For the most part, they seem to all feel they are "entitled" to do or say anything they want to, and NOT do or say anything they don't want to. That includes being rude and obnoxious to adults, and not putting forth any effort to learn in school, yet feeling entitled to join the work force without the skills, knowledge and ability to do so. Having worked with young people for many years, I can see for myself the ways in which their attitudes and thinking have changed over the years, and I agree with everything this teacher said.
However, what concerns me the most is the fact that this teacher was suspended over what she said in her blog. A blog on the Internet certainly does not have any expectation of privacy, so there was nothing wrong with her students finding and reading it. But since when can we NOT say what we think and have opinions about in our own blogs? That's where the rub is.
The First Amendment grants us the right to freedom of speech, which carries over into the freedom to write whatever we want to write. (Given, of course, that what is written is not some kind of libel against someone.) However, sometimes it is also brought up as a diversion from the truth, or as an attack upon someone we don't want to hear or something we think should not have been written. That's when I believe it is misused.
When you blog, how often do you really think about what you are writing? By this I mean, do you ever "ponder" if what you are blogging about might be conceived as a violation of the First Amendment? How could it be, when we are guaranteed the right to say anything under that very same amendment? So when this teacher blogged about her opinions of her students, how could she have been suspended by the school board? Obviously, they believed that she did not have the right to state, on her blog, her opinions of the students she tried to teach on a daily basis.
I wonder what this means to us, as writers, would-be book authors, searching for agents and publishers? Should we think twice about what we post on our blogs? It goes without saying that no professional person, published or not, should ever carry on a contentious conversation on their blog about a run-in with an agent or publisher, or how terrible an editor is because she sent back a "bad" rejection letter, or any of the other "mishaps" we all have along our journey to find representation and/or a publisher.
The First Amendment protects our right to say anything we want to say. But how far does that take us in posting on our blogs? On the Internet, everything is out in the open for anyone to see; we certainly can't say that we expect our private thoughts...when we post them...to remain private. I've read some blogs that are really disgusting...in my opinion, that is...with language right out of the garbage can, on any number of subjects, some equally disgusting, and even people. The only option I have, since these same blogs are protected, is to never read them again, and of course, I don't.
Then there are the politically extremist blogs, full of hate and self-righteous indignation towards our present President, as well as those presidents in the past. Do they have the right to spew out their racially charged expletives, their lies, their vicious and venomous remarks? Apparently, they are also protected by the First Amendment, regardless of how decent, intelligent, and objective people feel about them.
Think about it. Do you ever post anything that could be taken as offensive to someone? Not necessarily someone in our literary profession, but by anyone? The First Amendment gives you that right, but with rights, comes responsibility. Many blogs today abuse the rights this amendment gives them, most of them intentionally. How far can a blog go, before that same amendment will no longer protect it? Or, in this country, where freedom of speech is the FIRST freedom we all espouse, will that amendment never recant that freedom, no matter how radically or extremist the speech, written or spoken, becomes?
Where do "rights" end, and responsibility begin?
Think about it. I'd love to hear your opinions.
Until next time,
That's a wrap.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Friday's Fare: First Impressions
Do you remember when you were a kid and your mother used to say, "You only have one chance to make a first impression"? Like it or not, that holds true today in our writing more than anything else. Especially for those of us who write for kids and teens, nothing is more important than that first sentence, paragraph, and page. If we don't capture their interest immediately, they won't continue reading and the book goes back to the library or on their bookshelf where it will gather cute little dust bunnies for the next decade.
So how do you start that first page? What makes a first sentence exciting? How many of you have read Charlotte's Web?
"Mama, where's Papa going with that ax?"
Now there's a first sentence to grab you by the throat ! Many writers do begin their novels with dialogue, but it has to be something that is startling, humorous, frightening, or in some other way grabs the attention of the reader and doesn't let go. For example:
First the colors. Then the humans. That's usually how I see things.
Or at least, how I try.
HERE IS A SMALL FACT.
You are going to die.
Okay, not just a single sentence, but this is how The Book Thief, by Marcus Zusak,
begins. Now wouldn't that hold you interest, and make you continue reading? It sure did me !
Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood.
A half-blood? A half-blood of what or who? The first line of The Lightning Thief, by Rick Riordan. A few sentences down, Riordan goes on to say that ...being a half-blood is dangerous, it could get you killed. (Paraphrasing here.) That will get any kid's attention, right?
I'm going to give you the first sentence of an adult book by Virginia Woolf, and tell you what that sentence says to me. Compare my thoughts with what you may have thought about it.
Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself.
Here is what the sentence says to me:
1. Question: who is Mrs. Dalloway, and who is she buying flowers for?
2. It tells me that buying flowers herself is not the usual way she does things, so there must be some special reason for her to do it now. I wonder what that reason is?
3. The sentence indicates someone is talking about Mrs. Dalloway to someone else. Who, and why? It's almost as though Mrs.Dalloway has servants, one of whom usually buys her flowers, so that servant is talking to another one because it is unusual for Mrs. D to buy her own flowers . ( May or may not be true.)
4. I get the feeling that there is something mysterious or very different about this simple act of buying flowers, and it makes me want to read on, and find out why Mrs.Dalloway is doing what she's doing.
Did any of the above thoughts occur to you? think about it, and decide why or why not.
Here are some ideas about things to look for and think about in writing your first sentence ( or 2 or 3), always keeping in mind the age of the children or teens you're writing for:
1. Will the make the reader ask questions that can only be answered by reading further?
2. Does it give the impression that something mysterious, or exciting, or dangerous, or very funny is going to happen in the coming pages?
3. Does that first sentence ( or 2 or 3) hint at some kind of goal to be accomplished or conflict to be overcome in future pages?
4. Do you believe your reader will find an immediate emotional connection to your character, or be fascinated by the scene or bits of dialogue you've created?
Now I'm going to give you some first sentences, not all of which come from published novels... some you will recognize, some you may not. Read each one separately, and think about it for a minute. Then ask yourself the above questions, and see if any apply to your feelings about the sentence. If they do, write out the sentence, and then write what you think or feel about it. Keep it for reference when you write your next first sentence, or revise the ones you have now.
1. Mother died today. Or maybe yesterday. I don't know.
2. This is what happened.
3. I don't know why she thought the plan was hers. It wasn't. It couldn't have been.
4. I am invisible. I am flesh and blood, but I am invisible. People see right through me; they walk right past me. They don't hear me crying.
5. Murder never sends out a calling card, so why was it different this time?
I hope you have fun with this, but also, that it helps some in writing those all important "first" sentences...or 2 or 3!
Until next time,
That's a wrap.
So how do you start that first page? What makes a first sentence exciting? How many of you have read Charlotte's Web?
"Mama, where's Papa going with that ax?"
Now there's a first sentence to grab you by the throat ! Many writers do begin their novels with dialogue, but it has to be something that is startling, humorous, frightening, or in some other way grabs the attention of the reader and doesn't let go. For example:
First the colors. Then the humans. That's usually how I see things.
Or at least, how I try.
HERE IS A SMALL FACT.
You are going to die.
Okay, not just a single sentence, but this is how The Book Thief, by Marcus Zusak,
begins. Now wouldn't that hold you interest, and make you continue reading? It sure did me !
Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood.
A half-blood? A half-blood of what or who? The first line of The Lightning Thief, by Rick Riordan. A few sentences down, Riordan goes on to say that ...being a half-blood is dangerous, it could get you killed. (Paraphrasing here.) That will get any kid's attention, right?
I'm going to give you the first sentence of an adult book by Virginia Woolf, and tell you what that sentence says to me. Compare my thoughts with what you may have thought about it.
Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself.
Here is what the sentence says to me:
1. Question: who is Mrs. Dalloway, and who is she buying flowers for?
2. It tells me that buying flowers herself is not the usual way she does things, so there must be some special reason for her to do it now. I wonder what that reason is?
3. The sentence indicates someone is talking about Mrs. Dalloway to someone else. Who, and why? It's almost as though Mrs.Dalloway has servants, one of whom usually buys her flowers, so that servant is talking to another one because it is unusual for Mrs. D to buy her own flowers . ( May or may not be true.)
4. I get the feeling that there is something mysterious or very different about this simple act of buying flowers, and it makes me want to read on, and find out why Mrs.Dalloway is doing what she's doing.
Did any of the above thoughts occur to you? think about it, and decide why or why not.
Here are some ideas about things to look for and think about in writing your first sentence ( or 2 or 3), always keeping in mind the age of the children or teens you're writing for:
1. Will the make the reader ask questions that can only be answered by reading further?
2. Does it give the impression that something mysterious, or exciting, or dangerous, or very funny is going to happen in the coming pages?
3. Does that first sentence ( or 2 or 3) hint at some kind of goal to be accomplished or conflict to be overcome in future pages?
4. Do you believe your reader will find an immediate emotional connection to your character, or be fascinated by the scene or bits of dialogue you've created?
Now I'm going to give you some first sentences, not all of which come from published novels... some you will recognize, some you may not. Read each one separately, and think about it for a minute. Then ask yourself the above questions, and see if any apply to your feelings about the sentence. If they do, write out the sentence, and then write what you think or feel about it. Keep it for reference when you write your next first sentence, or revise the ones you have now.
1. Mother died today. Or maybe yesterday. I don't know.
2. This is what happened.
3. I don't know why she thought the plan was hers. It wasn't. It couldn't have been.
4. I am invisible. I am flesh and blood, but I am invisible. People see right through me; they walk right past me. They don't hear me crying.
5. Murder never sends out a calling card, so why was it different this time?
I hope you have fun with this, but also, that it helps some in writing those all important "first" sentences...or 2 or 3!
Until next time,
That's a wrap.
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