Jacqui's Room

ATTENTION PEOPLE OF JACQUI'S ROOM

2010-10-11T13:57:00.004-04:00

We have your "Jacqui." We have been tracking her for several weeks but she refuses to write our chapters. Sure, she wrote character sketches for us and has written thousands, THOUSANDS of words for this book, but WE do not yet appear. Nobody even knows who WE are. Jacqui knows, but she ain't talking. Or writing. How can we perpetrate our evil, dastardly, very lucrative, somewhat ridiculous plans if we don't yet EXIST???

So we took her. She made a valiant effort at escape this weekend -- even hopped a train to Chicago and ran 26.2 miles. This was clearly to avoid us (why else would anyone run that far?!), but it was misguided since she ran it in a big circle. We let her stop to take this photo for proof. But then we got her.

Now you may not have her back until we have finished with her. Oh, we'll give her the essentials, like food and water and access to Facebook. But other than that, she writes only for us until OUR book is written to OUR satisfaction so the world can know of our greatness.

Yes, World! YOU SHALL KNOW OUR NAMES. You know, once we have names.

Sincerely,

The Bad Guys in Jacqui's New Book

I, robot

2010-10-04T11:52:00.001-04:00

We did it! Or, rather, you did it and I suffered the consequences (explanation here).

YOU donated almost $1,000 to help kids learn to write at 826michigan. I ran the Big House Big Heart 5K dressed like this:

Yes, faithful readers, those ARE dryer vents on my arms. They are surprisingly warm and inflexible. And yes, that button does say "Disco" and yes, I did disco whenever someone pressed it. Fortunately, only Tink thought to press it. Unfortunately, she did so about a million times.

And yes, I did appear in front of a gabillion people, up on the Jumbotron, but no, I could not take a picture because race officials would not let me stop in the race chute. But I gave a little dance anyway, because I am a woman of my word.

NOW, some of you are kicking yourselves because you forgot to click HERE and then on my name and donate. Good news! You can still do it. PLUS, someone has donated a free massage to the fundraiser who raises the most money and I have a chance of winning. But there is stiff competition, so get there by the final count Friday at noon! Donate now! I WANT MY MASSAGE, people.

But most of all, thank you. Thank you thank you thank you, from me and 826michigan and a ton of happily writing children. Thank you.

My son loves pink, a rant

2010-10-01T10:36:00.001-04:00

Warning: extended, only remotely related to Banned Books Week rant below. Please find a more indicative sample of our regularly scheduled light-hearted silliness here.

Dear World,

Yes, my son loves pink. He loves his glittery “do you believe in fairies?” shirt and his Hello Kitty water bottle and most of all his hot pink prairie skirt that twirls and that is, along with some boxer briefs, really the perfect summer play outfit.

Yes, I know he is wearing a skirt. And I know it is pink. No need to keep pointing that out, stating the facts as though you aren’t making a judgment in your head. Stop laughing; stop shaking your head. Stop congratulating yourself on your open-mindedness by saying, “That’s so great you let him wear it,” as though maybe I shouldn’t. In fact, please stop bringing it up in front of him at all because every time you do, you teach him that as much as he loves it, there’s something wrong or at least remarkable about that. And who wants to hear that it might not be okay to love something you love? Over and over, at the mall, on the street, at school, at your own family’s house?

While we’re at it, stop “reassuring” me that “it doesn’t mean anything.” What does that even mean?! Are you trying to say that his love for pink at age 3 doesn’t prove my son is gay? Thanks for the insight. Here’s a clue: the idea of him being gay doesn’t worry me. Here’s what worries me: it’s 2010 and my pink-loving son still has to defend his right to like a freaking COLOR. It’s 2010 and there are still people out there so incredibly homophobic that they CANNOT STAND the sight of a three-year-old boy in a SKIRT. It’s 2010 and my son wore his pink shirt to school the first day and there was MASS GENDER CONFUSION on the playground because some kids already, by age 3, are so gender-indoctrinated that they REFUSED TO BELIEVE he was a boy.

It is 2010 and every single time he wears his favorite color, my son’s feelings get hurt. Every single day, he gets told it’s not okay to be who is he is. I’m not worried about him liking pink or what it “means.” I’m worried that someday people are going to make him feel so bad about himself that he wants to jump off the GW bridge.

It’s 2010. It’s time to stop hurting people’s feelings with closed, terrified minds. It’s time to stop trying to prescribe other people’s lifestyles and families and reading material. It’s time to admit that reality is complicated and surprising and full of questions to which you don’t have answers. And it’s time to let my kids – and everyone's kids -- fully participate in that deliciously diverse reality without having to worry about the whispers.

It’s 2010, World. My son loves pink. Get over it.

Love,

Jacqui

P.S. Thanks for the chocolate donuts, though, World. Those things are awesome.

From the Jacqui's Room Office for Outer Space Affairs

2010-09-30T10:16:00.000-04:00

My Thursday News of the Absurd Will Someone Please Write This Book Inspirational Moment (TNoftheAWSPWTBIM) news this week turned out to be a hoax!

I was disappointed to hear that, contrary to many media sources (all of whom should be really embarrassed for repeating it without doing any fact-checking), the U.N. did not actually appoint someone Earth's official "first contact" with alien life forms. Apparently, there is not someone in an office in Malaysia whose job is to wait for aliens to contact us.

This is very disappointing because one of you was going to write me a hilarious picture book about the bored bureaucrat sitting filing her nails, cracking gum and fielding the alien phone calls. ("Hello, Department of Earth's First ExtraTerrestrial Contact. How may I direct your call?") The official first contact was Malaysian, but I was picturing her from Jersey. And of course she was unfazable, regardless of what crazy aliens came in. "I'm sorry sir. There are no further openings for attempted invasion and take over of New York City this month. Please fill out Form P-2987 and submit it with November's application fee. Next."

Mostly, I'm disappointed nobody has to answer me this: it's all fine and well for US to know who the first contact is. But who's going to explain it to the aliens?

Oh well. At least U.N.O.O.S.A.* really exists. That's enough to feed the imagination for a while.

* the United Nations Office for Outer Space Affairs

Tink, on Roald Dahl

2010-09-28T13:33:00.005-04:00

This week, Tink is reading George's Marvelous Medicine. It, like many Roald Dahl books, has been challenged from time to time by concerned parents. So I sat Tink down for a Jacqui Reads her Children Books That Are SURE to RUIN Them FOREVER discussion.

ME: Tink?
TINK: (reads)
ME: Tink?
TINK: (reads)
ME: TINK?
TINK: (reads)
ME: TINK!
TINK: WHAT?!
ME: I notice you're reading George's Marvelous Medicine.
TINK: It's my Accelerated Reader book. (reads)
ME: Well, you know about Banned Books Week --
TINK: (deep sigh) And this is one of them.
ME: Well, sort of. What do you think?
TINK: (reads)
ME: Tink!
TINK: (blows bangs off face by spewing air with lower lip stuck out) Here's what I think: Yes, it's maybe not so appropriate in some places. But people! It's Roald Dahl. What did you expect? (returns to reading, turning back on me)
ME: (ponders several things, including how else to celebrate Banned Books Week)

Jacqui Reads Her Children Books That Are SURE To RUIN Them FOREVER

2010-09-27T15:13:00.003-04:00

It's Banned Books Week!

Two years ago, I celebrated with Jacqui Reads Her Children Books That Other People Think Are Bad For Them. Last year I read them Even More Books That Other People Think Are Bad For Them. We've read a ton of terrible, child-harming evil, and yet, miraculously, my children's moral fiber remains frustratingly intact. So THIS year, I decided to condense the exposure AND to hit them with the biggies. I present to you:

Jacqui Reads Her Children Books That Are SURE to RUIN Them FOREVER

We started this weekend with these:

Heather Has Two Mommies
by Lesléa Newman, illus. Diana Souza

Daddy's Roommate
by Michael Willhoite

Nothing subtle there, eh? My kids were sure to be doomed.

We ran into trouble immediately. Destructo couldn't have cared less how many mommies Heather had. He was mainly worried that on the cover of her book, it looks like Heather is about to be EATEN BY A WOLF.*

Heather's story is very straightforward. Two is her favorite number; she has two hands, two eyes, and two mommies, both of whom she loves best. When Heather starts a playgroup, though, the kids talk about their daddies. Heather doesn't have a daddy and gets sad until the other kids in the class talk about how all their families are different and the teacher delivers a speech on love.

This is an important book, and a very lovey and reassuring book. It is not subtle though, and not particularly informative for modern kids with 21st century mindsets. BUT it becomes VERY interesting, terrifying even, if you think Heather's pet dog is a CHILD-EATING WOLF.

Punchy, but undeterred, we moved on to Daddy's Roommate. In the book, a little boy's parents are divorced and his dad has moved in with another man. The book is all about the fun the boy has with Daddy and his roommate.

First, check out that fantastic mustache! Thor had total facial hair envy.

Second, regardless of your politics, you have to respect an author who isn't afraid to speak his true thoughts on his book (and his whole lifestyle) being challenged.

But to the actual story. This book does not beat around the bush. It has illustrations of the men hugging in bed, it talks about their love for each other, it says they sleep together. As I read, I was thinking how red in the face Daddy's Roommate must make closed-minded book haters. But then Tink spoke up, on the page where they're at the beach.

"I know why some people think we shouldn't read this book," she said, pointing to the picture of Daddy's roommate in a Speedo-style bathing suit. "He's almost naked!"

Hmm. Later, she decided that what the book-banners didn't like must be the picture of the men wearing Red Sox hats. Because nobody should cheer for the Red Sox, I guess.

In the next episode: Underwear, the Sex Pistols, and Tink on Roald Dahl. Stay tuned.

* This is not to knock Ms. Souza; the illustrations within are cute. But you can see why he thought that.

Who is the author?

2010-09-23T11:52:00.000-04:00

Today's Thursday inspiration comes from Tink, who had this idea:

"What if you didn't know who the author of the book was and the book was like a mystery where you had to find out?"

I am fascinated by this. You could write it as a scavenger hunt through the internet or even, gasp, the real world, where you had to figure out what historical figure was supposedly the author.

But I want fiction. A middle grade mystery with changing points of view, one of whom has written the book but doesn't admit it. In the story, a certain book has powers of some sort. Something important* hinges on who the author is, but nobody knows. After a few chapters, we realize the book in question is the one we're holding and WE have to figure out who wrote it. I want it sort of terrifying, like if we don't figure it out before the book is over something dreadful might happen to us in REAL LIFE.

I want a smart mystery with a brand-new structure and definite chills. Who will write me this book?

* No, I don't know what powers or what hinges. And this is why YOU are going to write the book.

Vacansopapurosophobia

2010-09-20T12:17:00.000-04:00

Which means fear of the blank paper.*

I don't have a fear of the blank page. I love a good blank page, a whole blank journal even. It's so full of potential. Imagine all the fantastic, beautiful, hilarious things that could end up on there!

No, I have a fear of a half-filled page of bad writing. Call it vacansocrapurosophobia. The flip side of that blank page full of potential is a scribbled-on piece of garbage that I'm embarrassed to recycle without shredding it first. That's what haunts me.

I have a new book idea. It might be my favorite book idea ever. It's so pretty right now, so hilarious and yet touching, so unique and yet universal. And so completely unwritten, and therefore so fraught with the looming specter of total, heart-breaking failure to carry it off in a way that is at all close to my beloved vision for it.

This is the writer's dilemma: I have to be madly in love with an idea in order to even consider starting, given the amount of time and sweat (well, mental sweat) and energy I know it's going to take. But if I'm too in love with it, I'm terrified of blowing it.

This summer, though, I got a wonderful piece of advice: Redefine failure. As in, whenever you find yourself not trying something for fear you'll fail, redefine what "failure" will mean in that situation. For me, for any writer but in particular for those of you who have "always wanted to, but...", maybe failure shouldn't mean "unpublished" or "not as perfect as I hoped." Maybe failure should mean "never tried." And there's one obvious way to make sure that doesn't happen.

Excuse me, I have a book to go start.

* Also the title of an 826michigan student publication of just the kind you'd be supporting if you'd already signed on to force me to dress up like a robot and dance on the Jumbotron.

Help kids, humiliate Jacqui*

2010-09-17T14:26:00.001-04:00

Things Jacqui Has Been Doing Instead of Blogging, part 1

Here are two things I love:
writing
teaching

And here is 826michigan, one of my favorite non-profits, which is dedicated entirely to teaching kids to write. You will not find another organization making writing as fun, as creative, as appealing to all kids (even reluctant writers), or as cool as 826 makes writing. We have a ROBOT STORE, for goodness sake.

You can learn more about all the 826 outfits here. This is something I believe in whole-heartedly. I'm on the board. I work in the robot store. Last year I spent all day every Friday volunteering during writing workshops at an elementary school in Ypsilanti. And sometimes, I humiliate myself. For example, this picture of me dressed as Brutus killing Robot Julius Caesar.

Now, here are two things I hate:
humiliation
asking for money

So I figured, why not combine them?

The Big House Big Heart is a 5K race that runs through downtown Ann Arbor, into the University of Michigan stadium, down the middle of the field and across the 50 yard line, where finishers are videotaped stumbling along and projected, giant-sized, onto the field's Jumbotron, for all to see.

And on October 3, with your help, it is possible I will run the Big House Big Heart Race and breakdance robot-style across the finish line while being projected giant-sized onto the Jumbotron. All while dressed in a full body robot costume.

Total humiliation. How can you make this happen? Help me raise $826 for 826michigan.

Yup. For a meager $826, I am going to line up with 10,000 other people, in broad daylight, with dryer vent tubes on my arms and a sign that says, "I get my fix at Liberty Street Robot Supply and Repair."** And I am going to post pictures of the whole thing. Online, for all to see and mock.

Here's how you can contribute to the Help Kids, Humiliate Jacqui plan:

1. Click HERE to be directed to the 826michigan race page. Then click on my name to go to PayPal.

2. Mail a check or cash to 826michigan, 115 E. Liberty Street, Ann Arbor, MI, 48109. Put "I want Jacqui red-faced on the Jumbotron" or something similarly evil in the memo.

3. Toss cash at me as I run past you in the race. This is, of course, less effective.

And then either sit back and pat yourself on the back for doing good and helping kids learn to write, or sit back and giggle maniacally at how embarrassed I am going to be out there. You know who you are.

* a blog title that shows the importance of carefully placed punctuation.
** or something else equally mortifying

School has started...

2010-09-14T09:42:00.002-04:00

... and there is not a person in my house who isn't thrilled about it.

Everyone started new schools and everyone is in love with the new places. Though yesterday Destructo was upset because:

"We were learning to wash our hands and I saw a giant X marks the spot on the floor and it could be real pirate treasure and NONE of my teachers would GET ME A SHOVEL!"

It is also possible he insisted to his Sunday School teachers that his name is "Buzz."

Methinks it could be a long year...

Tink's new school uses the Accelerated Reader program: "MOM! Can you believe my HOMEWORK is to READ A BOOK?! Like I get extra credit for reading a book! Reading! For HOMEWORK. Like it's hard" (shakes head, chuckles to self, and disappears into armchair for hours).

As for me, in the last two weeks I had Tink's birthday (complete with Black and White themed almost sleepover), the first day of new schools for both Tink and Destructo, Rosh Hashanah, my birthday, Thor's 40th birthday (for which I planned a surprise weekend away with 10 friends), minor household crises (everyone is fine), an unintentionally thawed refrigerator, a barfing cat, minimal child care, house guests, a total of nearly 80 miles run, mysterious lights on in the car,

And yet, as part of my new "no excuses" policy, I will be sending everything my agent wanted by Thursday to her. Today. Yup, two days early. And yup, I am crowing about it.

So lemme just finish formatting this one thing. And then I will be back in Jacqui's Room to tell you all about it.

How do they do it?

2010-08-30T17:46:00.000-04:00

You've seen the bios:

"So and so is a stay-at-home mom to three adorable children under the age of five, two dogs, a cat, and a bearded dragon named Louie. When not writing, she enjoys building houses for Habitat for Humanity, hand-making all her family's clothes, and acting as mayor of Dubuque. She recently finished her thirteenth solo ascent of Everest. This is her sixth novel in the past year; her first collection of self-illustrated poetry will be out in July."

Who ARE these people? WHERE did they buy their time-turners? And, while I'm asking questions with all caps, WHO THE HECK STUCK THIS EXTRA WEEK OF NO SCHOOL IN BETWEEN AUGUST AND SEPTEMBER???

I try. I do. I know people send their kids to play and shut the door and go write masterpieces. But I have to assume those people's children don't think up games like "Carry the Cat By Her Tail," "What Happens When Dry Erase Markers Get Really, Really Wet?" and the classic "Sit on Your Brother's Head Til He Screams." The only time my kids are silent enough for me to write without leaving one ear and some brain space available to monitor them is when they're up to something really naughty.

So today I planned myself some writing time with a playdate. That fell through. Child care? Nobody available. I planned a pool trip; at least I could jot down ideas while they played, right? We lotioned, got dressed, and biked down there. Immediately upon our arrival, someone else's kid vomited vast and chunky all over the shallow end. Pool closed indefinitely.

"Go play," I ordered when we got home. They went upstairs to play Harry Potter School. I opened Word. And it's broken. Won't start at all. I spent five minutes re-starting and swearing at it before the door to Tink's room opened.

TINK: Mom?
JACQUI: What?
TINK: Mom?!
JACQUI What?!
TINK: MOOOOOOOM!
JACQUI: WHAT?!
TINK: We need you to come be the werewolf!
JACQUI: No. I'm busy.
TINK: Please?
JACQUI: No.
TINK: (runs down stairs) PLEEEEEEEASE? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE? (dances circles around living room)
DESTRUCTO: (bounces down stairs) Pyeez pyeez pyeez. (spins in nauseating circles, narrowly avoiding every pointed edge in room)
JACQUI: Stop. No. Go away. Shoo! (holds laptop like shield)
TINK & DESTRUCTO: PLEEEEEESE! PYEEZ! TWO MINUTES! PLEEEEEEEEE -- (continues until blue in the face) -- SE!
JACQUI: (Deep breathes. Closes laptop. Weeps)

The Taming of the Critter

2010-08-22T20:51:00.003-04:00

Oh my. Tink and I had such big plans for Critter. Sunset walks on the beach, tickets to the symphony, late Sunday brunches with asparagus omelets...

But Critter? Critter was out of control. We tried to interest him in books, like some other bloggers did. We took him to our favorite places in Ann Arbor -- the downtown library...

... and Liberty Street Robot Supply & Repair.*

But Critter just kept trying to sneak into Pangea Piercing.

When they asked him for ID, he ran and hid behind one of Ann Arbor's many fairy doors.**

Eventually, the fairies delivered him back to my house with a note that said, "Never again." Tink and I felt bad for Critter. Maybe he just needed some coddling. We cooked him a healthy farmer's market dinner. He ignored it. He said he wasn't hungry. Then, later, we found this:

It was obvious to Tink and I: Critter needed finishing school. We got right to work. We set him up a strict behavior management system with Twizzler Bits as rewards.

We taught him to cook.

Tink gave him a more formal wardrobe. Finally, Critter was ready. Look, how lovely and peaceful he is now!

"Our work here is done," Tink said. And it's true. I don't know how long the pink lacy phase will last, though, so we have shipped Critter off with all due speed to Tina Ferraro, who writes young adult books, and is, thus, better able to take care of recalcitrant Critters. Apparently, Tina may be taking Critter to Las Vegas.

I hope he doesn't gamble away his new ballet slippers.

* which is the storefront for 826michigan and also where I work on Mondays and also the coolest store in town

** Yes, there are really fairy doors all over Ann Arbor. If you come, we will tour them and you will be all "Aww" and your kids will stand gape-mouthed and whisper, "I believe."

What is a Critter?!

2010-08-20T09:24:00.000-04:00

Ian Sands seems like a very cool person. He makes public, interactive art in North Carolina. Like, his art is on the side of a bus. Or, you might be walking down near the water in and see this, that Ian made:

That would make me so happy. Someone did public art in the Huron River here in Ann Arbor, but it was all rusty wires and then it blew away in a tornado. Sad.

Anyway, Ian started a project called the Lost Critter project. He made a lot of Critters and then set them free...

Christy Evers is also a cool person. She writes books for kids. You may know her around Jacqui's Room as the eternally encouraging commenter C.R. Evers.

Now, somehow, Christy got a hold of a particularly cute Critter:

She is sending him all over the real world to visit children's writers. At the end of his travels, Christy is going to auction Critter off and donate the proceeds to charity (I told you she was nice).

And now, this week, Critter is in my house. I got him in a padded envelope along with the directions to "have fun" and a hint that Christy expected "mischief."

Mischief? Me? Stay tuned...

Working is in progress again

2010-08-16T11:31:00.001-04:00

Remember when I was writing so hard that I had to stop blogging and write a poem about how hard I was writing?

This week, I don't even have time for a poem. It's good news: my agent loved all my new ideas and wants to see them all ASAHOIPOS.* And my agent is wise and I always do what she says. Also, she is a black belt and can beat me up. So no blogging for me for a few days.

That said, we have a visitor at our house this week. And, oh, the adventures we have had. Already, there has been dress-up and candy and a robot vs. objet d'art brawl.

Have you met Critter? You will...

* As Soon As Humanly Or Inhumanly Possible Or Sooner

Living with your inner critic

2010-08-11T13:57:00.000-04:00

You know that voice inside you? The one that says, "This is no good. You're never going to get it right. You may as well give up." Mine is strong and mean and persistent. It beats me up, and it also uses logic ("Does the world really NEED another book? You know who needs you? Your kids!"). And it doesn't just bug me while I write. As I've been training for this marathon, it's started in while I'm running. "You're never going to make it. You may as well stop. You're probably about to injure yourself. C'mon, slow down."

I hate it. I used to try to ignore it, or to get rid of it. But lately I've stopped.

I went for a run in LA with the amazing Sara Lewis Holmes, and we got to talking about the voice, both in running and in writing. Here's what we realized: it never goes away. You can win 15 National Book Awards and a Pulitzer, you can run 95 ultramarathons, you can be the most accomplished anything in the world. But the voice will still be there. Every time it gets hard, it will be there, feeding on your insecurity and trying to convince you to quit.

And then Sara said the wisest thing. She said maybe you have to learn to live with it, to say, "Oh, hello. I recognize you," and then to go on.

Earlier this week, I went running with Tink. She rides her bike alongside me and it's usually great. But this run, she was cranky. She started whining at the farthest away point and she screamed and kvetched at me for two miles. She was making me CRAZY. But the more I talked calmly back and kept running, the more ridiculous she got ("I am going to DIIIIIIIE!"). I could laugh at her. And of course, we made it. Now, when I am running and the voice starts in, I just pretend it's Tink kvetching. And I go on.

I am about to start a new book, and I know soon thereafter the voice will start. But I'm not going to ignore it. I'm going to say, "Oh, hello. I recognize you." Because I am less nice than Sara, I will probably add "You stupid voice."

And then I will go back to writing.

Why my children have no hope of being normal...

2010-08-10T11:19:00.005-04:00

Part 357: the omen

...because I promised Tink we could do "Harry Potter camp," just she and I, this week. Today is Potions. I printed up a simple baking soda and water recipe in a fancy font and labeled it "Revealo Totalum." I told Tink we were going to learn a simple potion that you paint on a plain piece of paper to reveal secret messages, or the future.

Then last night, I snuck downstairs, took the "plain piece of paper" and, in vinegar, wrote "THE DARK LORD RISES! BEWARE! BE NICE TO YOUR MOTHER!"

Heh heh heh.

This week, we are obsessed with...

2010-08-09T12:39:00.000-04:00

(books you should read)

1. Once Upon a Time, The End (Asleep in 60 Seconds)
by Geoffrey Kloske, illus. Barry Blitt

For any parent whose kid ever insisted on "One more story!" ten million times until you were left exhausted and skipping entire pages and telling stories like, "Once upon a time a kid wouldn't stop asking for stories and his mother went INSANE. The end."

Includes such classics as The Two Little Pigs and (my favorite) The Princess and the Pea ("Is there a pea in your bed? No? Then what's your excuse? Go to sleep."). Hilarity.

2. Iggie's House, by Judy Blume

Winnie's best friend Iggie moved away, leaving Winnie miserable. When the Garber family moved in with three kids, Winnie was thrilled. But the Garbers were the first black family in the neighborhood and not everyone was as thrilled as Winnie to have them there.

From the publisher: Winnie, a welcoming committee of one, set out to make a good impression and be a good neighbor. That's why the trouble started. Glenn and Herbie and Tina didn't want a "good neighbor." They wanted a friend.

This book was first published in the 70s and re-released in 2002 with this new cover (which Tink & I both I hate, though we can't articulate why; I think it's because the kids look so happy, which they are definitely not in the book). It feels a little dated (I had to explain to Tink what "Negro" meant). But what is both amazing about Judy Blume (and terribly depressing about the world) is how not dated it is. The awkward way Winnie and the Garbers learn to make friends with each other as individuals and not representatives of their respective races, Winnie's ignorance, and the thinly-veiled excuses Winnie's neighbors give for not wanting the Garbers around could easily have been written this year.

3. Cool dates. As in, today is 8.9.10. We will definitely be having a dance party tonight at 6:07. Who's in?

Who can help me find these things?

2010-07-26T14:38:00.001-04:00

Attention Jacqui's Room reader(s):

I need your help finding something: July.

Like the whole month. I lost mine, apparently, because it's almost over and I can't remember what I did with it.

I mean, from the looks of this blog, you'd think I hadn't posted in two week, when in fact, I have been posting brilliant and hilarious items TWICE DAILY.*

I looked in my bag of marbles and it turns out most of them are lost too.

It's a household wide problem. Yesterday, I listened to Tink and Destructo have an extended argument entitled "Uno: are we or are we not playing with a full deck?"

In other news, I heard an all too familiar thumping and scratching sound in my attic this weekend.** Is it possible a new generation of flightless pigeons is out to get me?! Did they not read this blog last spring? Or do I now, in addition to everything else, literally have bats in my belfry? I will keep you updated.

* In my head.
** No joke. All three of these things actually happened this week. This is my life.
*** Photo from 826michigan's Liberty Street Robot Supply and Repair Store website. You can buy loose screws there, if you don't have enough already.

Our weekend, by the numbers

2010-07-12T12:15:00.000-04:00

Number of laps of the outside of our house done by Thor in his imitation of Iniesta's celebration of Spain's winning World Cup goal: 1

Number of shirts removed as part of said imitation: 1

Number of laps of our house done by my children in imitation of their father: 2

Number of clothing items removed during laps: all of them

Number of laps done naked: 3

Number of laps done wearing each other's clothing: 1

Number of laps done wearing underwear on their heads and screaming with giggles while their father chases them, trying to corral them into the bath: 1

Number of neighborhood block parties we are likely to be invited to this summer: sigh.

Sssurprisssse!

2010-07-08T06:57:00.001-04:00

Today's Thursday News of the Absurd Inspirational Moment proves we should all watch more nature TV shows.

From Yahoo!News:

Mass. school janitor finds 3-foot python in locker

Apparently, a janitor cleaning up at the end of the school year opened a locker and a giant snake popped out, prank can of peanuts style. Except it was a real python. When it tried to attack him, he "grabbed it behind the head as he had seen on nature TV shows."

I think this is the last scene of the book, the one that rolls with the credits in the film. It's the last loose end to tie up: "But what happened to the python?!"

So you tell me, what is the rest of the story?

Obsession

2010-07-01T15:30:00.001-04:00

You know you are obsessed with your book when...

... while pondering your book during morning "make the lunches and run around collecting stuff" time, you forget to eat breakfast.

... while pondering your book during a write-in with a friend at the library, the solution to your plot problem hits you and, before you know what you are doing, you holler "I got it!" and leap from your chair.

... while pondering your book during a run, you become so absorbed that you forget to watch your step and fly to the pavement in the middle of the street, battering your shoulder and scraping your knees and palms. Yet all you can think as you continue the run (with blood dripping down your leg) is "She could totally wipe-out like that in Chapter 8."

... even in the face of all this, you still find yourself happily pondering your book during dinner...and bedtime...and during the second half of the Brazil-Chile World Cup game...

Writing Lessons from Elementary School, part 2

2010-06-29T14:27:00.001-04:00

This is the second post inspired by my amazement at the great writing in Don't Stay Up So Late, a collection of stories by Erickson Elementary (Yspilanti, MI) students who worked with volunteers from 826michigan. See yesterday's post here. And then go to 826michigan and get yourself a copy, if you can.

10 Things Elementary School Writers Know They Should Do
and Their Stories Are Much Better For It
(i.e. Things I Wish More Grown-Up Authors Remembered)

1. Something has to happen in your story. A list of things you like is not a story. A list of what someone did that day ("And then we went to Joe's. And then we played Wii. And then we ate dinner.") is not a story.* Neither is a 40 page treatise on your thoughts on the nature of fiction, even if you put it in quotes and write "he said" at the end.

2. Your story has to have a beginning, a middle, and an end. "End Book 1" is not an ending.

3. Use lots of juicy details.

4. Spelling and grammar DO count...

5. ... but not on your first draft messy copy.

6. Books with pictures are best.

7. In a good story, a character learns something or changes somehow. But you don't have to write "The moral is..." and beat us in the head with it.

8. Stories are meant to be read. By other people. Preferably out loud. So somebody besides you has to be able to sound out and understand your story, and enjoy it. It's not a good story if you have to sit next to the person and explain everything (or if I have to buy a "Reader's Guide" to understand what you were trying to say).*

9. Writing stories is hard. It takes a lot of work. You have to practice and you have to find somewhere you can concentrate. And you have to see it through to the end.

10. A book is not a real book if you only SAY you are going to write, but never start, or if you tell everyone about it but never finish, or if you finish it and are afraid to show the teacher. If you see it through to the end, and you revise it and edit it, and if you give it a title and make pictures for it, and if someone who is not you reads it and enjoys it, it is a "real" book, even if nobody ever buys it on Amazon.

* Unless you are James Joyce and the book is Ulysses

Writing Lessons from Elementary School, Part 1

2010-06-28T13:20:00.000-04:00

This post and tomorrow's were inspired by Don't Stay Up So Late, a fabulous collection of bedtime stories written by students at Erickson Elementary in Ypsilanti, as part of 826michigan's work at their school this year. I helped out at Erickson last year and wrote the intro to the book. Come get a copy at 826michigan.

10 Things Elementary School Writers Don't Know They Shouldn't Do
and Their Stories Are Much Better For It
(i.e. Things I Wish More Grown-Up Writers Tried)

1. Name your main character after yourself. Make her fabulous or make her evil. Either way, do not worry for a minute about whether or not readers will think it's really you.

2. Write your fantasy.
Once upon a time there was a girl named Jacqui. She was very nice, but at school everyone was mean to her. She told on them and they all got in big, big trouble and had to miss the field trip and they never bothered her again.*

3. Establish character in the first lines. Don't overwrite this part. Move into the story.
Jason was a bad guy. He liked to beat up kittens and eat bunnies. One day...

4. Make stuff up. Like crazy stuff. Nobody ever put down a book and thought, "Yes! That was totally realistic!"
And then he turned into a butterfly and flew away.

5. Find yourself hilarious. Put stuff in there just because it's funny. In fact, write the whole story as if you were trying to make the kid next to you laugh or say "Whoa!"

6. Do not fear the absurd.

7. Write about everyday playdate drama. Making the stakes high doesn't mean every book has to be about life or death situations. Sometimes we all like to read a book about someone who reminds us of us, with the problems and worries that we hide inside us, and who makes it out of a normal childhood. Ask Judy Blume.

8. Have a moral. Better yet, have a moral we don't expect. At the end of your story of the produce thief who gets caught, write: "Moral: Don't eat all the bananas."

9. Don't wrap up every loose end. At the end of your story of the class field trip to a zombie house, write:
Lucy and John escaped. They went to tell their teacher. Then they realized their teacher was now a zombie! She ate them and nobody ever heard from Lucy and John again.
Do not worry about what happened to the rest of the class; we can guess. Or, it doesn't matter.

10. Rehabilitate your bad guys, instead of annihilating them. Sometimes we need to know there's a chance we can change.
But when Franklin saw how sad Lizzie looked about her puppy being stolen, he felt bad. He decided to give her puppy back. Lizzie was so happy she said she'd be his friend, if he promised never to steal again.

* All quotes are made up by me, and are similar but not as awesome as ones from the book.1

Granny vamps

2010-06-24T14:08:00.000-04:00

This week's Thursday inspiration is more ridiculous than anything.

We were discussing vampire books in critique group this week and someone pointed out that part of the allure of vampires in these books is that they all got frozen in immortality at the ripe young, gorgeous age of 16 or 17.

"Where are the books about old and ugly vampires?" someone said.

Which got us started giggling. Can't you see the cover of the book? With three or four seriously old vampires glaring in the "I know you think I'm sexy" way over the top of their bifocals? Vampires who have to have their blood pre-sucked and put in a cup with a straw. Vampire early bird specials. Vampires in house slippers.

Oh, the video I would make you, had I endless time and technical skill: I keep picturing Bella Swan's voice from the movie previews saying, "You're impossibly fast" and seeing a vampire played by Tim Conway from the old Carol Burnett shows. But, alas, I cannot make it, seeing as how I have much kitten-watching to do today. So who will write me the book?

And because I cannot pass up Tim Conway...

Tulip

2010-06-23T12:52:00.000-04:00

This is Tink's new kitten, Tulip, whom we brought home yesterday from the Huron Valley Humane Society (thanks in part to Diane who chose Tink "the cuddliest, cutest one.").

She is 1.8 pounds of cute and all we could do all afternoon was stare and coo.

"How long have we been sitting here watching her?" Tink asked.

"An hour," I replied.

Tink sighed. "Oh boy," she said. "This is going to ruin my writing career."

And this week, we are obsessed with...

2010-06-22T09:02:00.004-04:00

Have you seen this book?

A Birthday for Cow, by Jan Thomas

We are totally obsessed with this one this week, me and the kids. It's cow's birthday and Pig and Mouse are going to make him the best birthday cake ever. Duck, however, has other ideas. Hilarity ensues.

There's something of the pigeon in Duck's humor, so this would be a great gift for a kid who loves Mo Willems, too. Plus, your kid might ask to try a turnip...

Take a different path

2010-06-21T14:22:00.001-04:00

In which I discuss running, writing, and goose attacks.

So I am training for this marathon, which is partially to blame for my lack of regular blogging. Friday, I set out for an 11 mile run. I charted myself a course along trails, down near the mighty Huron River. I had my little belt full of water bottles and my half a size too big shoes and yes, I was seriously dorkalicious.

At mile 5, the trail narrowed to about 6 feet wide as it ran between the river and a little pond. As I came around a bend, I heard the flapping and honking of Canada geese. I had scared a gaggle of about 20 of them (with my feather-light footsteps and delicate breathwork). They were heading from the pond to the river, so I jogged in place to let them by. Then they stopped. The babies sat down, right in the middle of the trail. I could not pass.

"Excuse me!" I called pleasantly and started jogging around them. The mama geese hissed and snapped at me. When I got closer, they tried to whap me with their wings.

"Okay, okay!" I called and ran back down the trail. I stood and watched them for a minute, sure they would move on. The babies put their heads down and the adults stood guard, watching me.

"Move!" I yelled. I hid behind the bushes and screamed, "Vroom! Vroom! Big truck coming!" I tossed small rocks and sticks at the trail just in front of the geese.

Nothing. No movement. And every time I got close, the mamas started hissing.

I stood there, like an idiot, waiting for someone smarter or braver to come along. Nobody came. I hunted for a side route around them. I tried to cut through the campus of a factory and got stuck behind a barbed wire fence. I circled back in front of the factory and ended up crossing a loading dock in front of 17 unloading truck drivers (again, remember the little belt with the water bottles and did I mention the pigtails?).

And here is where it relates to writing: I could have taken a different road. A road that could go anywhere in Ann Arbor was 300 yards away, but it would have lead me on a different route. So instead of turning around and taking it, I considered scaling a 20 foot high fence. I was so stuck on the idea of getting back to MY path, and so unable to stop thinking about the geese, that I wore myself out stubbornly trying to get back to the original plan. The original outline. Are you seeing the metaphor?

I admire perseverance and doggedness and effort. But sometimes the reason a scene or a chapter or a whole book is hard is simply because it's never going to work. We have to turn around and let the failure take us on a whole new path.

I finished my 11 miles and it was a lovely run, minus the geese. Sure, I was bummed to leave my pretty path through the woods and run on the pavement in the exhaust. But the real tragedy would have been if I'd never let it go and kept running.

Snap back to reality

2010-06-15T20:22:00.000-04:00

I went on a real bona fide kid-free vacation last week. Yup, four nights in which I got to sleep the whole night through, eat dinner slowly, and not have to do dishes. It was lovely, but the fact is, it could've been the HoJos around the corner and I would've been satisfied with the sleep part.

Three questions:

1. Do you come home from vacation all full of "things are gonna be different around here, yessiree we are gonna make some changes" ideas? I do.

2. And then do your kids do their best to ruin any relaxation or motivation you've brought home?

3. Can you guess which of the following my children did NOT fight about today?

a. Whether or not the sugary pixie stick Tink got at her end of year party is magical,
b. Whether or not said pixie stick gives Tink the power to turn Destructo into a giant pile of poop, should he choose to blow another raspberry at her,
c. Whether or not blowing a raspberry at someone, in the absence of flying spittle, still constitutes a violation of the "No Spitting" rule
d. What specific sound a giant pile of poop makes,
e. Whether or not the previous question refers to poop in the toilet or on the floor,
f. Who gets Dada to do his/her bedtime (and, therefore, who gets stuck with me), or
g. Who gets to give Mama her next backrub.

At Least She's Honest, part 2

2010-06-04T09:31:00.001-04:00

We were punchy at bed time last night. A visit to the school end of year party, complete with cotton candy, Hawaiian Punch, and ice cream, will do that to you, especially if your mom usually controls your sugar intake enough that strawberries are dessert.

When it came time to tell stories, I told a whopper, the climax of which involved Tinkerbell convincing a gaggle of geese to rescue Destructo and her from the Huron River.

"How did they know what I was saying?" she asked.

"You spoke Geese, of course," I explained. "You learned it in Heb-goose school."

That got a good laugh from everyone. "Oh boy, " I admitted. "That's like the stupidest pun I've ever made."

"No, Mom," Tink assured me. "You've made lots of much stupider ones."

Morbidia meets the grim eater

2010-06-03T10:28:00.002-04:00

I REALLY REALLY want this week's Thursday News of the Absurd Will Someone Write Me This Book Inspirational Moment (ThNoftheAWSWTBIM) to exist for reals and for trues.

From YahooNews and Reuters:

Funeral home steps in the stop the "grim eater"

Apparently, a funeral home in New Zealand had to step in after noticing a man who attended up to four funerals a week, despite obviously not knowing the deceased. Why? The guy carried a backpack full of Tupperware; when mourners weren't looking, he'd steal the funeral food and bring it home.

This is awesome. Genius. You gotta love someone who says, "You know who deserves to be ripped off? People with recently dead relatives! Heh heh. Mourning suckahs."

But I don't want him to be a bad guy. Here's what I want:

Elaine is a "normal" high school student who dresses all in black, permanently in mourning over the stupid problems caused by stupid people in the world. She's so full of angst and drama that her parents (who are good parents but who don't take her seriously) have started calling her "Morbidia." One day, she wanders into a funeral. Nobody bothers her, nobody looks at her strangely, and everyone is dressed in black. So Morbidia starts going to funerals whenever she can.

But after a while, Morbidia notices this other kid, the one with the backpack. He's often there too, and Morbidia can tell he doesn't know the dead people either. She sees him pretending to pay his respects and then filling his Tupperware. Morbidia is fascinated.

And so they meet, Morbidia and the Grim Eater. And what follows is a quirky, darkly humorous, bizarrely romantic story (like Six Feet Under* in a YA).

It must be written. No! I am already writing two books. One of you has to do it.

Crap. Now I'm obsessed. Save me.

*Oh, how I (who watch next to no television) miss Six Feet Under and my six free months of HBO. Sigh. Peter Krause, where have ye gone?

Why You Should Not Read To Your Children

2010-06-01T10:04:00.000-04:00

We hear all the time about the benefits of reading to your children. The book-loving, library-using establishment wants you to think it's all fun and games. It's NOT. I know from ACTUAL EXPERIENCE. Here are just a few of the possible, disastrous consequences reading to your children, or, indeed, letting them read to themselves, can have on your health and the health of your children.

1. Children may decide it is hilarious, every time they hear the sound of fingers snapping, to strip down to their underwear, don their shirts as capes, and run around wherever you are screaming, "Tra la la!"

2. Children may ponder ingesting worms, fried or otherwise.

3. Head wounds may result from repeatedly opening the doors to and trying to fit inside of a cabinet that resembles a wardrobe.

4. You will be spied upon. And your actions will be recorded in a notebook. Depending on whether the perpetrator is Harriet or Nancy, such records may contain an overabundance of exclamation points.

5. Sever brain atrophy is a definite possibility.

6. Certain books may carry multiple deleterious consequences.

7. Your child may demand, in public, that you outline the geneology of the line of gods and half-gods descended from Cronos. Without Wikipedia.

8. Your child may threaten to punch you in the head.*

9. Child may demand a pet prairie dog.

10. Your child may learn that there are people who are different from her, that sometimes women fall in love with other women, and that the world is not the black and white moral checkerboard she has been led to believe. Also, what a scrotum is.

There is only one solution: ban them all. Ban them all, I say, and let kids engage in safe things like skateboarding and their 1,680 minutes (average) TV watching a week.

Bonus points if you know what books caused all of the above in my children...

* Sorry. So very, very sorry.

One Million Gribbits

2010-05-27T14:24:00.003-04:00

It's been a while since I had a good Thursday News of the Absurd Will Someone Please Write This Book Inspirational Moment, (ThNoftheAWSPWTBIM). I couldn't pass this one up.

From the New York Times via AP:

Flood of Frogs Shuts Down Major Greek Highway

Apparently, Greek officials had to shut down a major highway in the north of Greece this week because more than a million frogs were hopping in the street.

First, the best thing about this article is that the author clearly had a field day with the words "large group" and Thesaurus.com.

Officials said the frogs had probably left a nearby lake in search of food. Yeah, right. All more than a million of them. At once. And they decided tarmac was their best bet.

Obviously, there are two more plausible explanations:

1. Comic dark magic. Because if it were real dark magic, the frogs would be dead or headless or something. I might love a book written from the frogs' point of view. I mean, nobody ever considers how frogs (or locusts, for that matter) feel about being dragged from place to place just because they're annoying and great punishment.
2. The gods are angry at the highway. Or, they are angry at young Niko, the new Chief Road Engineer, who has declared that his new highway tarmac material is "stronger than the gods" and can withstand any kind of weather. The trouble is: he's right. No matter what the gods throw at it -- rain, blizzard, lightning, locusts -- the highway stay open.

What do you think?

Did Amelia Earhart cry?

2010-05-21T09:37:00.000-04:00

It was on this day, seventy-eight years ago, that Amelia Earhart flew solo across the Atlantic Ocean. She was only the second person, and the first woman, to do so.

Here is what I wonder:

Did Amelia Earhart, when the idea first struck her, think, "Oh, but that would be so much work!" and "I could never..." and "But nobody has..."?

When she sat there in Newfoundland, everything packed, about to take off, did she look out at the darkening sky and think, "What am I doing?!" Did her throat close in panic? Did she sweat?

Did she wish for a moment that she were at home with a cup of tea and a fantasy, instead of belted into a steel trap with a plan to defy logic and gravity and social convention?

Then, when gasoline leaked into her cockpit, when her plane suddenly dropped 10,000 feet, when fire shot out her exhaust pipe and the altimeter and the steering and EVERYTHING broke, did Amelia Earhart cry? Did she think, "I can't do this!" and want to curl up or collapse or call for Superman?

And if she did, if it turns out she wasn't as confident or as fearless or as much like "Amelia Earhart" as we think she was, if Amelia Earhart cried,

Then what does that say to the rest of us?

Your Personal Trainer

2010-05-20T11:18:00.006-04:00

So, I'm training for this marathon. Thor bought me this chip that you tie to your shoe. It sends messages to your iPod and computer voice comes on and tells you how far you've gone and how fast you are going: "You have been running for THREE minutes. You have gone POINT FOUR miles." It also came with this running coaching mix, complete with the voice of many-marathon-winner Alberto Salazar telling you when to speed up and when to take a break and how fabulous you are for running at all.

I love this voice. Alberto (whom I saw win the New York Marathon in the 80s, so he knows his stuff) starts with a motivational speech about getting out the door. Then he says, "Ready? Go!" and great warm up music comes on. I'm running along, and suddenly, there's Alberto telling me, "You're doing great. Now I want you to speed up. Picture your opponent running ahead of you. Ready? Sprint!" Appropriately upbeat music comes on and I sprint, encouraged by Alberto, "You are so fast!"

I want this for writing. I want a writing coaching mix. I want to put on my headphones and hear, say, Salman Rushdie: "You are going to have a great writing day. You are a brilliant and prolific writer. Ready? Open your laptop. Go!" and then hear good writing music. I type and type and on comes, "You're doing great. Only thirty minutes left. Keep writing!" When I'm done, I want him to say, "Wow. Doesn't that feel good? Take a break. Go get some coffee and I'll meet you back here in ten minutes. Don't be late!" and then play "Praise You" by Fatboy Slim, like Alberto does at the end of the sprints.

I want a chip like I have for my shoe, but for the computer, so I can press a button and hear the computer voice: "You have been writing for THIRTY-FIVE minutes. You have written ONE THOUSAND words. You have updated your status ZERO times. Good job!"

Who will ~~write~~ invent me this ~~book~~ thingamajig?

At least she's honest. Sort of.

2010-04-28T21:09:00.005-04:00

In which we see how being the child of a writer makes you weird.

Bedtime tonight. We are discussing Tink's class production of Strega Nona.

JACQUI: How did the play go today?

TINK: It was hilarious. This kid's hat fell off and he kicked it into the audience. It landed in front of some guy... (hijinks ensue) ...and then the paper pasta came landed on a fifth grader ... (more hijinks)...and he threw the hat and it kind of floated for a minute -- the door was open and some wind had come in and --

JACQUI: Wait. Tink. When did this story stop being true?

TINK: (chuckles in acknowledgement) Yeah. A long time ago.

JACQUI:

TINK: Can I finish now? It's a really good story.

JACQUI: Yeah sure.

In which I preach patience and mix metaphors

2010-04-27T10:53:00.000-04:00

(crawls up out of hole, squinting into spring sun)

On our last episode of Jacqui's Room, Jacqui disappeared into her office with a book idea. It's been a month, and the real life peanut gallery is curious: "Is the book is done yet?"

I would love to tell you the book is done. But then again, I wouldn't. Any book that I could write that quickly, even a picture book, is probably not very good.

Recently, someone told me about her book series. "We'll be releasing one a month..." she said. And all I could think was "One a month?! That's literary fast food."

The question is: do you want your food fast, or do you want it carefully crafted and delicious? If you want to write it right, you have to be patient with yourself. Sometimes you have to let it simmer, you have to beat on high for the full two minutes and then taste it. You have to go slowly.

The worst part is this: sometimes, you have to wait and see how it comes out. You can't tell from the outline or the recipe if it's going to make a good dessert. You have to write as much as you can, stop blogging for a whole month, become totally obsessed, and just get it onto the darn page. And then, once it's out, sometimes you read it and, well, crap. It doesn't work. It's fallen soufflé.

Sometimes we get so attached to what we've written, because it's really good or because we've already spent so much time on it, or because someone, somewhere once said they thought it had potential. Plus, we've heard all these stories about writers who did eleven drafts or got rejected 126 times and THEN the book was great. So we spend hours and weeks and maybe even years banging our heads against the wall, trying to add sugar or prop up the collapsed side, ruining the poor thing even further with our tinkerings, when what we need to do is scrap the soufflé, no matter how hilarious and brilliant it is (and trust me, it is hilarious) and write another book. If writing a book is a love affair, sometimes you have to break up. There are other fish in the sea.

Now, the good news is that sometimes, once the words of that ex-boyfriend book are done screaming in your head and bothering everyone around you,* when you can hear more clearly, another, quieter voice pipes up and calls you. If you don't let the first book go, you can never follow the next one. And who knows how great that next one is going to be?

* and trust me, they were bothering EVERYONE around me: I got a call from my agent and she said, "I was up thinking about your book last night."

Working is in progress

2010-03-26T09:59:00.001-04:00

I cannot mail your check today.

I cannot have a date to play.

I cannot go where Grandma lives,

Or wash your SpongeBob SquarePants skivs.

I will not read your manuscript

Or listen to your hissy fit.

I'm leaving stale milk in the car.

I have to turn off NPR.

I cannot change the kitty litter,

Or waste the day away on Twitter,

Write that months-late thank you note,

Or figure out which way to vote.

Dishes pile up in the sink.

Honestly, my kids both stink.

Birds are nesting in my hair.

I know it seems like I don't care,

But I do. I promise. It's just, you see,

I have a book inside of me.

And though my heart is full of doubt,

I have to let the book come out.

When my head is full of words,

The other stuff is for the birds.

So I can't find your other clog.

I can't walk the neighbor's dog.

I can't lift and I can't jog,

And sadly, sadly,

I can't blog.

The Midnight Knitters vs. the Quilting Vigilantes

2010-03-25T14:50:00.000-04:00

In today's Thursday News of the Absurd Will Someone Please Write This Book Inspirational Moment (TNoftheAWSPWTBIM), I turn yarn-loving samaritans into a gang of hooligans.

From Richard Degener at press ofAtlanticCity.com:

A good yarn? West Cape May tries to unravel the mystery of the midnight knitter

Apparently, someone was going around West Cape May in the wee hours of the night decorating signposts and tree trunks with elaborately knit leg warmers. In the latest developments, an anonymous group known as Salty Knits took credit. But now the knit cozies have disappeared.

Everyone assumed the anonymous knitters were trying to beautify the city. But what if they weren't? What if the bad guys were a group of salty knitters bent on the destruction of life as they know it in Cape May?

The question is how. How will dressing trees and signs up in silly sweaters doom everyone? What can the rival gang of do-good, mystery-solving quilters do to stop them?

Most importantly, who will write me this book?

LeBron and Me (a lie)

2010-03-24T08:00:00.002-04:00

I write fiction. Which means I lie.

Last Tuesday I implied on Facebook that I had a date with LeBron James. This was untrue. I did go see the Pistons play the Cavaliers that night, but it is entirely possible, I suppose, that LeBron failed to notice me, despite the fact that our seats were, no joke, in the SAME ROOM where he was playing basketball.

A "friend" dared to imply that the idea of LeBron James taking me out on a date was preposterous.

It is preposterous. It's also a terrible lie, for a couple of reasons (warning: writing metaphor ahead):

1. I had no details. The key to a good lie is in the details. If you make the scene so vivid that people can't help but picture it in their heads, they'll believe it. The more specific the details, the better. Make them see, smell, taste, hear, and touch it.

2. I didn't commit. Don't imply: insist. If you are tentative in your lie, it'll never work. You have to throw your whole heart into it and never doubt for a minute that it will be believed.

3. It wasn't big enough. Or, it was too big. You have to find the balance between mundane and delusional. If your lie goes just slightly farther than is believable, it's more likely to work. If your story is something everyone has done or experienced, nobody's going to care if it's true or not. Make it extra-ordinary, a millimeter beyond realistic.

4. It was illogical. I mean, I am so far out of LeBron's league* it's simply not plausible that I would date him. Plus, I'm married. Your story has to stick together without gaping holes or contradictions.

5. And lastly, never fess up. Once you have people believing you, once you've drawn them into your invention, you can't betray their trust. You can't say, "Remember when I said...? Well, really, er, I meant this instead." Don't backtrack or change stories midstream. You won't only lose them on this lie, you'll lose them forever.

So, tell me. What kind of lie gets you every time?

* Even if I do lower my stock with bad "in his league" puns.

What makes me smile

2010-03-23T13:21:00.004-04:00

I'll bet you thought in today's post I was going to be all "Darn you, Winter! I believed you were gone! I shelved my down jacket and now this?! 35 and about to rain?!" To which Winter would be all, "Ha ha ha ha! She's been in the mid-west since the early 90s and my patented "Spring is here" March fake-out still gets her every year. Now I am off to jack her furnace. I love my job."

But, too bad for you, Winter, because I am all warm and fuzzy from hanging out with teachers, librarians, and other Michigan writers all weekend at the Michigan Reading Association conference, so even the fact that I will undoubtedly be blamed for Tinkerbell's freezing legs even though I told her ten times she needed tights cannot shake my good mood.

Other things that make me smile:

1. This is awesome. Next up for these scientists: Mr. Weasley's flying car.

2. This is awesome too. Though years from now, only the Legos will remain.

3. The deer have returned to my back yard. There's a crowd that's mostly females and a crowd of young-looking males. They eye each other from opposite edges of the yard. I am totally hosting Deer Prom.

4. But mostly, I got a reminder this weekend of why I started writing to be published. A second grade teacher came to me, asking to have Two of a Kind signed. She held it out and said, "I hadn't read any of your books before. But this is happening, this exact thing, with the girls in my class and I haven't been able to figure out what to do. I'm reading them this book first thing tomorrow morning." And then she thanked me for writing it.

Less Curious than Furious...

2010-03-18T13:35:00.000-04:00

Honest to goodness, sometimes the Thursday News of the Absurd choices just write themselves.

From YahooNews and the AP:

Fire in Houston blamed on inflatable gorilla

"Fire department officials said an out-of-control inflatable gorilla was blamed for a rooftop blaze at a Houston shopping center."

I think the only question is this: what made him so mad???

Okay. Make it worse.

2010-03-16T08:46:00.000-04:00

Someone who read yesterday's post about a kid named Toast turning up in my "Let's Make a Story" bit asked for the rest of the exercise. It's pretty simple, really, but we haven't done a No, Seriously. Just Try It moment around here for a while, so...

1. First, think of a character. What's his or her name?

2. Now, tell me: what does this person love to do more than anything else in the entire world?

3. Good. Well, bad news! This morning, when this person woke up, something astonishing had happened. Something terrible. Something that made it so this person can never, ever do that thing he loves again. What happened?

4. Well, what's he gonna do about it?

5. That fails miserably. Why?

6. Okay, now, make it worse.

7. Ooh, that's bad. Now, make it worse again.

8. Ugh, poor guy. What's he gonna do now?!

9. Yeah, that didn't work either. Now things are even worse. How?

10. Right about now, things are as horrible as they can possibly get. Oh, wait. Turns out they can get even worse. What happens?

Etc. etc. etc. At Jefferson, the kids decided Toast loves making toast (of course). He loves it so much that he dreams of opening a restaurant called Toast, where all they serve is stuff on toast. But he wakes up one morning and an evil genius* has stolen all the toast. What's worse, the cops think Toast stole it. So he runs to his grandma's, because who can you trust if not Grandma. But she's talking to the cops! Toast tries to escape the whole town and go in search of toast elsewhere, but toast everywhere is gone. And now the peanut butter and jelly is missing too. And the local peanut butter and jelly mob is sure Toast stole it, so they're after him too. To make it worse, Toast falls down and knocks out all his teeth, so now he can't even eat toast! Etc. etc. etc.

So, who's your character? And what does he love? No, seriously. Just try it.

* The kid who thought of this part gave the evil genius his own name, which I loved.

His name is Toast

2010-03-15T14:05:00.001-04:00

I did school visits almost every day last week, and they were all much, much fun. But my favorite visit had to be Jefferson Elementary in Redford, Michigan. I got to present to the whole school (in two groups), and have lunch with some awesome kid writers. The best moment, though, was when I started my "Let's Make a Story" bit with the 3rd-5th graders.

The point behind making a story with a whole crowd is to show even when you don't think you have a single idea, if you just think of SOMETHING, the ideas will follow. If you invent a person, questions about that person just naturally arise. And it's your job to write until you find the answers.

So I said, "Let's invent a person. What's this person's name?" And the kid in the front on whom I called responded, "His name is Toast."

Toast. Toast?! That may be the best name for a chapter book character ever. And, oh, the questions! Is that his real name or a nickname? And how did he get it? And, and, and...

I challenged the kids at Jefferson to write me the story of a boy named Toast. But really, I want Toast (and toast) all for myself.

Two words

2010-03-11T06:09:00.000-05:00

Today's Thursday News of the Absurd Will Someone Please Write This Book Inspirational Moment (TNoftheAWSWMTBIM) comes from a dinner conversation about poor Destructo's misunderstanding of death and it can be summed up in two words:

Zombie Grandma

Because it would be so hard, wouldn't it? Your grandma still wants to love on you, to bake you cookies, to take you to tea. You love her, of course, and you don't want to hurt her feelings. But, dude, she's undead, and honestly, she's starting to smell even funnier than she did when she was alive.

And now, for your listening pleasure, from musical and songwriting genius Jonathan Coulton, the greatest zombie song evah, performed in ZSL (zombie sign language) by someone else.

Dorky Parental Pride Moment #351

2010-03-09T09:35:00.002-05:00

If you ask Destructo what he wants to be when he grows up, he usually says, "Roger Federer." Or "Batman." But this morning, he was playing near the bookshelves and he announced, in a voice full of admiration:

"Mama, when I grow up, I am going to be a LIBRARIAN."

Shh!

2010-03-08T09:16:00.003-05:00

There's a new story in the corner. But it's afraid to come out and show itself.

It keeps making little peeping noises, sticking out a leg or a scene, or one line, and then darting back into the subconscious parts of my brain where I can't write it. Honestly, I think it's seen what I've done to other stories who were braver and now it's terrified. Who can blame it?

This coaxing out of a story is delicate work. I can't start too soon or I spill that intoxicating initial rush of energy and voice before I even know what I'm writing. But I can't ignore it too long, or it will wander off in search of acorns elsewhere.

I used to catch chameleons, when I was little. You have to pretend you don't know they're there. You have to go about your business, whistling and saying, "What? I don't see any chameleon," even as, all the while, you are sidling closer and closer to one. And then when you are ready, not at all skittish about touching a lizard and really ready to commit, you pounce. The key is to pounce from two sides: one hand behind and one hand in front, in order to trap him as he tries to run. So you can't have anything else on your hands.

I've been whistling at this story for a week. Today, I think I'm ready to pounce.

This week's library haul

2010-03-05T09:20:00.000-05:00

It was a good library week. Destructo was in the "too sick to go to school - too well to stay home another day" mode, so we read a TON of books and only brought home the good ones.*

1. The Uglified Ducky (book and CD)
by Willy Claflin

You must listen to this book on the CD, told "in the original Moose" language by storyteller Willy Claflin. It is absolutely hilarious. You know the story: a baby moose wanders off and finds itself a cozy spot in the nest of a mother duck. When the mother duck finds her baby moose, she assumes he is an uglified ducky. Giggling ensues, with such adventures as flying lessons and a trip to Dr. Quack, duck therapist. Credit to Destructo's teachers and The Mighty Thor for finding this one. I will be purchasing this one, and possibly "Sleeping Beastly and Other Tales."

2. Bunny Party**
by Rosemary Wells

My children ARE Max and Ruby. The first time we read one of these books, Tink couldn't stop laughing. Honestly, Destructo looks remarkably like Max, down to the pure white fur and gigantic head. And Tink can be, um, a bit Ruby-esque in her bossiness. So we love these books. In this one, Ruby is throwing a birthday party for their grandma, but she's only invited her own stuffed friends, not Max's Jellyball Shooting Spider, etc. Max, of course, finds a way to make space for the spider et al, and it is much fun. Also, there is good counting/math in here.

3. Yoko
by Rosemary Wells

Yoko brings her favorite sushi to lunch and the other kids tease her. When she cries to Mrs. Jenkins, Mrs. Jenkins tells her the other kids will forget about it soon. How is this supposed to make Yoko feel better? I don't know. Of course, they tease her again when she has red bean ice cream. So Mrs. Jenkins throws an "international lunch" where everyone brings something and everyone is supposed to "try everything." But nobody tries Yoko's sushi. Why? I don't know. Why doesn't Mrs. Jenkins MAKE them try it, after she stressed that everyone would need to try everything? I don't know. While Yoko's sad about it, Tommy comes along, still hungry, and tries a crab roll. Yoko teaches him to use chopsticks. Where is Mrs. Jenkins while one kid cries and the kid maws leftovers? I don't know. Tommy loves the crab roll, he and Yoko push their desks together and are BFF. Why do writers persist in writing about making friends like it's a piece of (rice) cake? I DON'T KNOW.

TeacherFAIL aside, this is a cute book that my kids enjoyed. It's a nice platform to talk about making fun of other people's lunches/traditions. AND, it had the added benefit of convincing Tink to try sushi, because it really does look delish in the illustrations.

* Sometimes, when we have less attention span, he just grabs, say, all the M books he can hold and throws them in the bag.
** Hint: do not attempt to locate this book by Googling "bunny party." Apparently, this means very different things to readers of certain obscene periodicals. Aak.

How to tempt karma and frustrate your muse

2010-03-03T16:34:00.001-05:00

1. Take two weeks off writing due to situations beyond your control.

2. On your first "work" day back, be unable to remember how to string words together. Spend the whole time "getting the house back in order" so you can "really get down to it" tomorrow.

3. As you brush teeth that night, have great idea for new picture book. Fall asleep smiling with the thrill of inspiration and the relief that there will be no karmic repercussions for having blown off a writing day.

4. Hear screaming. Lots of screaming. All night long. Take three year old's temperature. Shriek.

5. Call day care.

6. Pound head on desk.

No Thursday inspiration this week due to aforementioned evil Destructo virus. But, while trolling for odd news, I did find this: Apparently, a naked man stole a bunch of children's books from the Ypsilanti library. It's horrifying and there's nothing funny about it. But what the article doesn't say and I am dying to know is this: WHICH BOOKS?

I had big plans for that millisecond

2010-03-02T15:05:00.000-05:00

From SPACE.com:

Chile Earthquake May Have Shortened Days on Earth

Apparently, the recent earthquake in Chile actually moved the Earth's mass vertically, changing our rotation and shortening the length of a day by 1.26 milliseconds.

Unfortunately, scientists report the quake had no measurable effects on the length of my daily to do list.

Over at the Castle

2010-03-01T13:13:00.000-05:00

Hurrah! Boni Ashburn, author of the hilarious and adorable Hush Little Dragon and frequent visitor to Jacqui's Room, has a new book out today.

We love love love Hush Little Dragon. I have read it 80 times and never tire of it. I even sing Boni's version of the song to my children instead of the original. So even without reading it, I can whole-heartedly endorse Over at the Castle, although I have heard there is no feeding on humans in this one.

Go over to Boni's blog to win a copy. And then go buy one anyway.

Jacqui Reads Her Children & Herself Books By & About People Different From Her: the wrap-up

2010-02-28T21:27:00.001-05:00

Well, I did it. I read a book by or about someone different from me every day for a whole month. Because it was Black History Month, I did mostly African/African-American authors/characters. I am really, really glad I did this, because I discovered some great books about which I should've known long ago, and some others about which I'd never have heard otherwise. Here's the wrap-up.

THE BOOKS:
Note: If I read a book and didn't think it was worth your time, I didn't mention it here. That's why the list doesn't go to 28. It also means I at least liked all of these. "You should really read this" recommendations are starred.

Novels

* When Kambia Elaine Flew in from Neptune (Lori Aurelia Williams)

* Touching Snow (M. Sindy Felin)

Ten Things I Hate About Me (Randa Abdel-Fattah)

Romiette and Julio (Sharon M. Draper)

* The Skin I'm In (Sharon G. Flake)

Tyrell (Coe Booth)

Kendra (Coe Booth)

The Rock and the River (Kekla Magoon)

Mare’s War (Tanita S. Davis)

* 8^th Grade Superzero (Olugbemisola Rhuday-Perkovich)

Half of a Yellow Sun (Chimamanda Adichie) (for adults)

Out (Natsuo Kirino) (for adults)

Chapter Books/Middle Grades

This was the hardest category for which to find books. Where are the modern chapter books with African-American main characters?! There's a whole blog post in my head about role models and what a crime it is that there aren't more choices in this category...

Starring Grace (Mary Hoffman)

The Broken Bike Boy and the Queen of 33^rd Street (Sharon Flake)

Georgia the Guinea Pig Fairy (Tink convinced me I had to include it since Georgia is a fairy of color and is pictured as such on the cover; I suppose it's a good thing to which to give positive attention.)

Donovan’s Word Jar (Monalisa DeGross) (This was a re-read, but I read it to Tink this time)

Picture Books

Fireman Small - Fire Down Below! (Wong Herbert Yee)

* I'd Really Like to Eat a Child (Sylviane Donnio)

* My Best Friend (Mary Ann Rodman)

* Henry’s Freedom Box (Ellen Levine)

Pink Paper Swans (Virginia L. Kroll)

Pitching in for Eubie (Jerdine Nolan)

Looking Like Me (Walter Dean Myers, illus Chris Myers)

Books I Really Wanted to Read That Didn't Get Into My Library In Time

Brendan Buckley's Universe and Everything In It (Sundee Frazier) - MG

Sassy Little Sister is NOT My Name! (Sharon Draper) - MG

When Mules Flew on Magnolia Street (Angela Johnson) - MG

Mr. Chickee's Funny Money (Christopher Paul Curtis) - MG

Kindred or Fledgling (Octavia Butler) - adult

Flygirl (Sherri L. Smith) - novel

Caucasia (Danzy Senna)

Spoons, Chihuahuas, and Autonomous Robots

2010-02-25T06:13:00.000-05:00

What better way to celebrate absurd books on Thursday than with The Bookseller's 2009 Diagram Prize for Oddest Title of the Year?

Here are some of the finalists:

Afterthoughts of a Worm Hunter (David Crompton)

Collectible Spoons of the Third Reich (James A Yannes)

Crocheting Adventures with Hyperbolic Planes (A K Peters), and

The Changing World of Inflammatory Bowel Disease (Ellen Scherl, Maria Dubinsky)

The first one raises all sorts of ideas for first lines ("Look! It's growing back! Now we can have seconds!"). But my favorite has to be...

Governing Lethal Behavior in Autonomous Robots (Ronald C Arkin)

Because, um, WHY? What the heck happened over at the Arkin lab that made Ronald an expert in governing lethal behavior in robots? Is he a robot expert, or can we expect a Governing Lethal Behavior in... series?

If you need inspiration or giggles, check out Wikipedia's list of past winners.

And, if lethal robots aren't your cup of tea, maybe you could write me the story behind Gary Leon's 2005 winning title:

People Who Don't Know They're Dead: How They Attach Themselves to Unsuspecting Bystanders and What To Do About It.

Because I have always wondered.

Fireman Destructo

2010-02-19T09:15:00.000-05:00

A one act play created in part by Jacqui Reads Her Children & Herself Books By & About People Different From Her (explanation of JRHCHBBAPDFH here).

Act I
In which JACQUI reads Wong Herbert Yee's Fireman Small: Fire Down Below to CAPTAIN DESTRUCTO and DESTRUCTO takes offense.

JACQUI: ...The End. Aw, that was a good one.
DESTRUCTO: Yes.
JACQUI: His jacket looks just like your fire coat.
DESTRUCTO: Yes, but I cannot be him.
JACQUI: Why not?
DESTRUCTO: Because he is different from me.
JACQUI: (panics, wonders if whole premise of the JRHCHBBAPDFH project -- that kids will relate to characters regardless of race -- is bunk, blames self for raising racist three year-old, etc. etc. etc.) Really? (gulps)
DESTRUCTO: (exasperated as only a three year-old can be) Mama! He is Fireman SMALL. And I'm BIG.
JACQUI: Oh! That is true.
DESTRUCTO: I would be Fireman HOOJ.*
JACQUI: Yes, you would.
DESTRUCTO: You tell me story 'bout me in the BatCave now, okay?

Curtain.

* Huge

But then we'd need a skating rink...

2010-02-18T10:34:00.003-05:00

Welcome to this week's Thursday News of the Absurd Will Someone Please Write Me This Book Inspirational Moment (TNoftheAWSWMTBIM).

Scene: this morning, breakfast. Tink (and she was being serious, I think) announces, "Mama, I do not want a guinea pig any more."

"No?" I say, chuckling to myself at the fact that she felt it was necessary to tell me this. Because otherwise I was about to rush right out and add RodentStinkAndChaos to our already zen-like existence.

"No," she announces. "I want a penguin."

I laughed. She said it again. I laughed again. She said it twenty more times in increasing levels of whininess. I said something suitably soul-crushing and mom-ish like, "Okay, Tink. It was funny the first time. Now cut it out."

"But I DO!" she said.

Thor chimed in. "We'd need to turn the backyard into an ice pool."

And I thought, "What if we did?" And then, "Oh, this is a book."

Have you read When Dinosaurs Came With Everything (by Elise Broach, illus. David Small)? Great fun, that picture book. But I want penguins.

Mostly, I want a chapter book, I think. I want the little girl to hear her father say, "We'd have to build an ice pool in the backyard" and to believe him. So she starts planning and saving, and maybe even building. It's never going to happen. Obviously. It's impossible. But what if she doesn't know that?

She has to get it in the end, of course. Despite the fact that it is ludicrous, she has to convince them and it has to work and be wonderful and make us all feel like maybe we need to widen our ideas of what's "possible."

Also, it has to be hilarious and it has to ave a scene with men in tuxedos who look like a colony of penguins.

Who will write me this book?

I win!

2010-02-17T10:30:00.001-05:00

In which I justify hours of late night messing around on the internet.

It was late at night, at that moment when you think, "I should sleep. I should escape this darn World Wide Web of Doom and sleep. But first, I shall check this ONE last thing."

So I checked my Google Alerts, and...hey!

Two of a Kind has been voted one of the Chicago Public Library's "Best of the Best" for 2009!

This means a lot to me since I spent HOURS in the Chicago Public Library, and was teaching there when I wrote Two of a Kind.

So then I thought, "I'll just tell the folks on Twitter about this."

And voila! I won a contest. Yes, from now on you must refer to me as "Almighty Queen of Imperial Visual Propaganda." All because I watched too much TV as a kid and love stupid puns (and so did/do the hilarious Tara Lazar and Mike Jung.

You Don't Even Know Me

2010-02-16T08:16:00.001-05:00

The JRHCHBBAPDFH book recommendation for the day is You Don't Even Know Me, a collection of short stories and poems by Sharon G. Flake.

The author writes:
They fall in love, plot revenge, seek to be understood. They sit in class, show their colors, date your daughter and dream of making it big. But do you know them, these brazen, brilliant, bold young men walking among us? In my new novel, young men celebrate love, mentor younger boys, wrestle with AIDS and contemplate suicide. They dodge adults who mean them harm, brag about becoming president and wonder if they'll be alive in the morning. Boys: Do we know 'em?

Confession: I haven't read You Don't Even Know Me. It is, in fact, just coming out today (happy birthday, book). You can read reviews from people who have read it here and here.

That said, I just finished The Skin I'm In, also by Ms. Flake, and it's the kind of book that makes you want more soon. Maleeka gets made fun of for being so tall and skinny and dark. She befriends the mean bully Char, hoping it will help. It doesn't; Char is worse to her than anyone. Okay, here you are thinking I am going to say, "...blah blah blah Maleeka learns to love the skin she's in." And it's true, Maleeka does learn that, but the way it comes about is not predictable or clichéd or easy. I love it when an author can get me all tense and jumpy thinking, "No! Don't do that!" while still pulling 100% for a character. And I love that in the end, Maleeka still looks like herself (i.e. there's no fairy tale makeover).

I also just picked up The Broken Bike Boy and the Queen of 33rd Street. Tink's review coming soon.

Sharon G. Flake's interview at The Brown Bookshelf here.
Evanston Library's list of other books you might like if you like these here (love the "readalikes" idea).

Touching Snow

2010-02-14T21:10:00.001-05:00

"Um, Jacqui?" you may be saying. "Where have you been? And what ever happened to that project you were doing for Black History Month?"

It's a reasonable question. Blogging has been sparse and linky. The good news is that when blogging is sparse, it usually means other writing is prolific and good. It's the weeks I'm blogging daily that you know the book is stalled to a stand still and I am looking over the ledge. But no, I am deep in thought about a book, at the "so obsessed I neglect my children" phase, and it kind of takes all my words right now.

That said, I am reading up a storm. Which also usually happens when writing goes well -- it's like I am using so many words that I need to replenish them with tons of reading.

And oh, what good reading it has been! Seriously, this Jacqui Reads Herself & Her Children Books By & About People Different From Her has been amazing. But book reviews here take a lot of time. I have to CLICK and FIND the links, and WRITE the reviews and UPLOAD the covers -- it's like working in a salt mine. Okay it's not. But it takes time that I want to use WRITING. So the updates will come in waves.

Today, though, I had to tell you about M. Sindy Felin's Touching Snow. Because it is absolutely amazing, and given the honors it received (National Book Award Finalist and an ALA Best Book for Young Adults, for starters), everyone who reads young adult books should have read it three years ago. But I hadn't, which is pitiful.

Atheneum writes: Karina has plenty to worry about on the last day of seventh grade.

Boy, does she: All Ds and Cs on her report card, problems with her teachers, bullies, and a father who beats she and her sisters violently for any perceived mistake. When her stepfather nearly kills her sister, Karina is torn between wanting him gone, and hating the dire straits into which his arrest would throw her family; they need his income, and they need not to have the police sniffing around the circumstances of their family's immigration from Haiti.

Five things to love about Touching Snow, besides that it is incredibly well-written.

1. It begins: “The best way to avoid being picked on by high school bullies is to kill someone.” Brilliant. And it lives up to this tension, to the dark humor, and to the painful blending of everyday life in high school with much less everyday violence.

2. It presents one of the best, most realistic depictions I have read of life with an abusive parent and the ways in which the violence -- and the effort to avoid it -- color everything in a kid's life.

3. Karina is not smart or gorgeous or even the bravest of her sisters. She is not saved by a boy, by a trusted adult, or by random chance. She uses what she has to make her own way, and she is likeable and admirable even when her choices pain you.

4. Karina has a surprise and beautiful romance with another girl. That is all I am going to say, because it's such a lovely surprise and I'd hate to ruin it.

5. The ending meets my picky criteria for a great ending: it is a surprise, no doubt. But it is also satisfying and realistic and, when you consider the rest of the story, inevitable.

Even if you don't usually read young adult books, this is one that is good enough to try.

Snow day!

2010-02-10T08:02:00.003-05:00

I am really quite a Grinch about snow days. When I was a kid, and especially when I was a teacher, snow days were the best invention ever. Now, I have to admit, I've been up since 5am and have already ended two different games for fighting and doled out two time-outs and, well, IT'S ONLY EIGHT INCHES PEOPLE. DOESN'T THIS TOWN HAVE A PLOW? What? Yes, you have to go play in the snow. I don't care if it's 20 degrees out and you can't breathe because your overall-style snowpants are your two sizes too small. Get out there. Don't let your brother run in the street. Much. And take the snow shovel.

Sigh. Last year, I was so cheerful about it. You can read my less cranky snow day post and snow book recommendations here.

And I hope your snow day is all cocoa and marshmallows.

If you learned it...

2010-02-09T07:07:00.000-05:00

...then you shoulda got an A on it.

I love this.

I am working desperately on the writing equivalent. If you wrote it then...what? All I can think of is me standing at the front of the classroom, asking "Whose paper is this? If you wrote it then you shoulda put your name on it." Who has better ideas?

Thanks to Cheryl Klein for the Tweet/link

This Week's Library Haul

2010-02-08T13:53:00.000-05:00

This week's library haul was huge in number, range, and impact. Here are some highlights.

So far, this Jacqui Reads Her Children & Herself Books By & About People Different From Her (explanation here) idea is one of the best I've had.

I'd Really Like to Eat a Child
by Sylviane Donnio, illus. Dorothee deMonfried

How can you not love a book with that title? And yes, it is about an alligator who wants to eat a kid. But he's too little, so when he tries, the tasty morsel he's chosen calls him cute and then tosses him in a lake. I wish I could find (and pirate) the interior art of that page, because it's hilarious. We had several good laughs with this one, which has the bonus of adding the phrase "I'd really like to eat a child" to your child-chasing-pretending-to-nibble game.

The next two books are more appropriate for elementary kids, not preschoolers.

Pitching in for Eubie
by Jerdine Nolen, illus. E.B. Lewis

Have you read Plantzilla? What about Harvey Potter's Balloon Farm? Did you know they were written by the same person and that in addition to hilarity, she writes lovely realistic picture books like this one?

Well, I didn't, and now I'm a little in awe of Jerdine Nolan. I picked this book up because we were so in love with E.B. Lewis's illustrations in My Best Friend (and his ten million other books). In it, a little sister tries to figure out what she can do to pitch in when the whole family works to pay for her older sister's college tuition. Tink liked it, and the artwork is as fabulous as anticipated. Also, it drove us back to Plantzilla, prompting the announcement "I like her funny books better." Which I can understand.

Henry's Freedom Box
by Ellen Levine, illus. Kadir Nelson

Tink is a little fascinated by the idea of the Underground Railroad. I think it appeals to kids her age, because the horrors of slavery are so overwhelming to envision that it helps them to focus on what somebody was doing to fight it. This is the great true story of a slave who mailed himself to freedom. It's a great example of one person's tale giving the larger historical story. There is pain and loss and terror in it, but delivered in a way that even my somewhat tender-hearted seven year old could handle it. And, it's Kadir Nelson; do I have to mention that the illustrations are fantastic?

Also, we took out ten (I swear I am not exaggerating) Rainbow Fairy Magic Books, which are about people different from me as I do not GASP every fifteen seconds and have an unnatural fascination with Jack Frost. We had to take out ten because it wasn't enough for Tink to be obsessed: Destructo had to decide he loves them too. "I do yuv fair-yeez, you know, Mama." I know, Destructo. "Why you hitting you-self on the head with dat book, Mama?"

The Adorable Kitten of Death

2010-02-04T10:19:00.000-05:00

We interrupt to bring you this week's Thursday News of the Absurd Will Someone Please Write This Book Inspirational Moment. We are going to be religious about our TNoftheAWSPWTBIMs from now on, due to a comment from a non-writer friend that Jacqui's Room is "hilarious, except when you talk about, you know, writing."

Leaving the fact that this means I am funny approximately 1% of the time, there's a new grim reaper in town and I love this story idea.

From YahooNews & Reuters:

Doctor casts new light on cat that can predict death

In 2007, scientists released a paper describing Oscar, a nursing home cat who can sense death coming; he consistently curls up in bed with people right before they die. Now the doctors who broke the story are concerned Oscar has gotten an unwarranted reputation for being a harbinger of doom, when really he's just trying to comfort people.

Yeah. Right. Even I, a lifelong cat lover, have to scoff. A cat who wants to comfort humans?

Oscar is clearly killing these people. OR, Oscar can sense death coming, because Oscar is Death. And that is the book I want. What if Death were not a skeletal or pale-faced hooded ghoul? Because who wouldn't run from that? If Death really wants to trap as many folks as possible, he'd appear as a totally adorable kitty-witty.

But outside the nursing home where they recognize him, Death gets no respect. He comes to take people's souls and lay his cold paws upon them and they all pet him and forget how to say the 'l' sound.

"Oh, is the widdle kitty twying to --"

Death tries to growl, "I am NOT a widdle kitty. I am the Gwim Weaper." But the people just giggle and offer him milk.

Okay, maybe it's not a book. Maybe it's a Monty Python sketch. Or maybe you have a better idea.

And if it doesn't make you laugh, think of it this way: I could be, you know, talking about writing.

My Best Friend

2010-02-03T16:58:00.000-05:00

Tink and I fell in love last night. With this:

My Best Friend
by Mary Ann Rodman,
illus. E.B. Lewis

First of all, look at that cover. It's gorgeous. The inside is just as gorgeous. Honestly, the book could have had no words and no story and it would still be worth falling in love.

But it does have a story, and if you know anyone who is a year older than you and cool, it is the story of your life. Six year old Lily desperately wants to be best friends with seven year old Tameka, but Tameka barely notices her. Lily tries having the right kind of bathing suit and learning how to dive, but it's useless.

While I read, Tink squirmed and shook her head. 'That's never going to work," she predicted. "Oh boy," she worried. "Ugh," she groaned, squirming in recognition.

When I got done, she sighed in contentment. "That was good," she said, hugging the book.

Then we spent the rest of bedtime looking at the pictures all over again, and wishing it was summer and we were swimming.

Jacqui Reads Her Children & Herself Books By & About People Different From Her, day 2

2010-02-02T21:25:00.000-05:00

(explanation here)

Looking Like Me
by Walter Dean Myers*, illus. Christopher Myers

Jeremy looks in the mirror and sees all the things that make him himself: a brother, a son, a runner, a dancer...

Every once in a while I read a book to my kids and think, "Oh, I wish I had a classroom full of kids right now." If I were still teaching, I would snatch up Looking Like Me and we would read it alongside George Ella Lyon's fantastic poem "Where I'm From" (read it here). And we would write our own poems of what we see and where we're from, and we would study Christopher Myers collages and talk about how we are all collages, really, of all that makes us us, and then we'd make our own collage self-portraits and...

My kids enjoyed it. The verse is fun to read and there's a chance on each page to yell "Bam!" and give a fist-punch. But man, if I were a teacher, the fun we would have.

I know it's cheating to start with the Myers family. It's not like the genius of Walter Dean Myers is a hidden gem none of you know. But considering I decided to do this project exactly three minutes before I told you about it, I had to go with what I had around unexplored. And if you haven't read any Walter Dean Myers, go -- go now and buy Monster or Sunrise Over Fallujah, or any of them really, and settle in for some brilliance.

Jacqui Reads Herself & Her Children Books By & About People Different From Her

2010-02-01T15:12:00.001-05:00

This is a long post. If you have a short attention span, skip to the big letters in the middle of the page that are the same as the title.

There's been a lot of kerfluffle this month about race and children's book covers and how some people think other people don't buy books whose covers have people of color on them.

This is interesting to me for many reasons, not the least of which is that my first book's cover features a giant brown face smiling out at you.

Which is how I wanted it. Richard Jackson and I openly discussed it in the editorial process. I was a public school teacher in New Haven and Chicago and Philadelphia. I never had a class of white students in my life. And I wanted the book to be for and about my students. He totally agreed. When Two of a Kind came around, I reminded S&S of that and they said, "Of course." It never occurred to me that I was driving customers away.

Now, I know it's different for picture books. And I don't mean to be flip. But I'm fascinated by this. White people won't buy a book because it has a person of color on the cover. Because it's not someone like them. When half the fun of reading is diving into someone else's life and either learning something or finding out it has a lot of the same struggles as your own. This makes no sense.

But yet. I look at the list of my top ten chapter books and am blinded and shamed by the whiteness. And I do think that it takes a little more effort to find great books that aren't in your normal book comfort zone, that publishers think are for a "limited market" or that get less buzz.

So. Here it is Black History Month. Let's celebrate. Let's everybody -- no matter how you self-classify -- pick up a book by or about someone different from you. You can define "different" however you want. We'll call it:

Jacqui Reads Her Children & Herself Books By & About People Different From Her*

Every day this month** I will EITHER read my children or myself a great book by someone different from me and tell you about it (or have Tink and Destructo review it), OR I will point you towards a great resource for finding such books for your own enjoyment. Sound like fun? I am very excited.

Who's in??? All you have to do is say, "I'm in!" and report back on anything you find that you like. And who has suggestions for me?

* I gotta get me an intern in charge of naming my features. This is getting ridiculous.
** And by every day, I mean every day that I can, with the caveat that I am trying to write two books at once as well. Which is probably why I took on this suddenly huge-seeming project.

Top Ten Chapter Books Ever

2010-01-30T13:31:00.000-05:00

Remember when I agonized over Elizabeth Bird's call for our lists of the top ten picture books ever? Well, she's done me in good this time, that Fuse #8. Now she wants our top ten chapter books ever, ranked in order.

Picture books were easier. I barely remember reading picture books as a kid, with a few exceptions. But the chapter books? They were like old friends, read over and over. I kept saying, "Who can I leave off the list?"

I finally got my list in today. Here's what I sent:

1. Bridge to Terabithia – because it made me cry in fifth grade, and again in high school, and again and again and again. And because even at 38, I still dream of Terabithia. If this were a list of “best books ever, regardless of genre,” Bridge to Terabithia might still top my list.

2. The Westing Game

3. Charlotte’s Web – including the award for the best all time first line.

4. Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret

5. Harry Potter and the Sorceror’s Stone – Harry Potter is like Justin Timberlake: it’s so popular that I always want to think it’s junk, and then it constantly surprises me with how brilliant it is.

6. The Giver

7. From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler

8. The Black Cauldron

9. Harriet the Spy – because the kid emotions and interactions are perfect. Plus, who didn’t read this and then go around with a black composition notebook writing about people? Wait. I still do that. Huh.

10. Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great – because thirty-seven years later, Judy Blume still speaks straight to kids’ secret hearts

Your thoughts, wise visitors to Jacqui's Room? And you still have all day today and tomorrow to send your own list in to be tallied.

Her name was Lola...

2010-01-28T06:35:00.001-05:00

... she was a Sinosauropteryx,
With colored feathers on her head
Stripes of black and white and red.

She would meringue
And feast on raw meat.
But while she watched the feathers grow
They were always just for show.

She'd stay up late at night,
Trying to take flight
While the T-Rexes and the raptors
All learned how to fight.

In the Cretaceous,
Cretaceous-era
The hottest thing til the Sahara
In the Cretaceous,
Cretaceous-era
Sharp claws and slashin' were the latest fashion
But feathers?
'head of her time.

Her name was Lola,
She was a Sinosauropteryx,
But that was 100 million years ago
Before the disco balls did glow.

Now it's a blingfest,
But not for Lola,
Still in her fossilized mud bed
Faded feathers on her head

She lays there all alone
And Idol never phones
In the age of rhinestones and sequins
She is left with bones.

In the Cretaceous,
Cretaceous-era
Sharp claws and slashin' were the latest fashion
But feathers?
Go take a look.
You're on the hook.
Write me this book.

Rage - Goddess, sing the rage

2010-01-22T10:51:00.001-05:00

of Peleus' son Achilles,
murderous, doomed, that cost the Achaeans countless losses,
hurling down to the House of Death so many sturdy souls...

In which I remember not every book has to be a classic to be good.

Tink is a great reader. She can read anything she can get her hands on. And what does she pick?

Rainbow Magic Fairies.

It kills me. As I told a friend, every time she turns a page, a piece of my soul dies. But she's happy, and she's reading, and so, well, okay. I shut up.

And then yesterday she asked to go to the library. We returned the FIVE fairy books she got on Monday (because she had finished them by Monday night) and she got five more. I bit my tongue and tried to direct her towards some books whose strongest assets are not their glittery covers. Then she asked, "Where's nonfiction?"

I showed her the shelves (and gave her a mini-lesson in the Dewey Decimal System). She marched over to the books on Ancient Greece and began huffing, "Where is the ILIAD?"*

Bemused and marveling again at the power of a really good yarn to last for generations, I looked it up and we headed to section 883.

"These are all picture books," Tink complained. "I want the real Iliad."

"These are the real Iliad," I said. "It was written in Greek and people translate it. These are the real stories."

"The Iliad does not have pictures," she pointed out.

So we went upstairs to the adult poetry section and she took out this:

I decided that if I let her read Rainbow Fairy books without comment, I shouldn't say anything if she wants to try The Iliad.

"I'm going to read this," she announced.

"I believe it," I said.

"But sometimes I'm going to read these, like to relax," she said, holding up Evie the Mist Fairy.

Which is how it should be, I think.

We curled up on some cushions, Tink with her 683-page translation of The Iliad and me with The Friendship Ring: If You Only Knew, by Rachel Vail. Which is good too.

* They've been reading Trojan War stories in her reading group.

Tick tock, the clock don't stop

2010-01-21T07:04:00.000-05:00

This week's Thursday News of the Absurd Will Someone Please Write This Book Inspirational Moment (TNoftheAWSWTBIM) happened this morning.

4:57am Destructo awakens, gets fully dressed, and heads downstairs. When confronted with "What are you doing?!" he falls to the floor screaming, "I HUNGY!" I bring Destructo milk and send Thor in to get him back to sleep.

5:00am Tink crawls into bed with me, falls back asleep, and steals all the covers.

6:00am Thor's alarm clock beeps. I reach over Tink and hit it blindly. It stops.

6:10am Alarm clock beeps again. I hit it harder. It stops.

6:15am Alarm clock beeps again. I get up and pound the darn thing. I press every button. It stops.

6:20am Alarm clock beeps again. I growl, beat on it again, rip the cord out of the socket, and toss the clock to the floor. It stops.

6:30am Alarm clock makes high-pitched shrieking sound. I shake it, yelling "WHAT THE HECK?!" I flip every switch, hit every button, and smack the display (which is dark, because the thing is UNPLUGGED). It stops.

6:35am Tink is giggling uncontrollably. "Mama's in a war with Dada's clock." We get up.

Time passes. We get dressed, make breakfast, etc.

7:15am The obviously haunted alarm clock STARTS BEEPING AGAIN. I yell, "GAH!" Tink cracks up. Destructo, thinking it's the fire alarm, tries to evacuate.

7:16am Thor comes downstairs and says, "What did you do to my clock?"

"It hates us," Tink says.

"It's going to chase us to school," I say, picturing the clock tipping back and forth on it's little "feet," beeping angrily.

"This is totally a book," she says.

And she's right. The angry alarm clock's revenge.

Or, maybe it's sad that I hit it, so it chases me all day beeping until I apologize.

Or...well, what do you think? And who will write me this book?

ISO a good book

2010-01-19T12:23:00.000-05:00

From the classifieds of the Jacqui's Room Tribune:

MWF ISO a good book. Recent literary relationships all disappointing. Looking for an intelligent book with humor, depth, and a gripping, complex plot. Age not important. Must not open with landscapes. Also, graphic violence, kidnapping of small children, and jokes that hurt people's feelings need not apply. Satisfying, yet surprising ending essential. Join me for curling up on long winter nights or walks on the beach.

Any good literary matchmakers out there have that somebook special for me?

Ladies and Felines of the Jury

2010-01-14T07:05:00.000-05:00

It happened again. I found a fabulous Thursday News of the Absurd Will Someone Please Write This Book Inspirational Moment (TNoftheAWSPWTBIM) and, well, it's just too good a picture book not to give it a try myself. Now I am obsessed.

But this cracks me up.

From WHDH-TV news in Boston:

East Boston cat called to jury duty

Apparently Sal, the feline pet of the Esposito family, received a letter demanding that he appear for jury duty. His owner wrote to explain that he's, well, a cat, and to file for his disqualification of service. The verdict from the jury commissioner? DENIED. Now Sal has to have his day in court or face punishment.

I love this mostly because I love stories in which bureaucracy acts in idiotic ways but nobody's life is actually ruined. What is the jury commissioner thinking?! HE'S A CAT!

What if Sal shows up in court, expecting to be sent home immediately, and nothing happens? What if he's chosen for a jury? What if he falls in love with the legal system and decides to become a judge himself?

There's a book here. I don't know what it is, but maybe you do. Will someone please write it for me?

Writing truths by Tink

2010-01-11T20:38:00.005-05:00

It is always amazing to me how kids can understand and articulate things about books that some adult writers NEVER GET. Tink has started a new series, called "Writers And How They Write." Here's the first installment:

Yup. Conflict and character motivation summed up in 34 words by a second grader.

Tink would like me to point out that she knows how to spell all those words, but "it's not really that important to get everything perfect in a first draft." Which is, of course, lesson number 2.

Every single year

2010-01-08T13:00:00.005-05:00

I have raved about Garrison Keillor's Writer's Almanac here before, so it's no surprise he's the source on this too. If you're here after the 8th and you use the link above, you'll need to click "prev" until you find the one on Allende.

It's January 8, which means Isabel Allende is starting a new book. 29 years ago, she started The House of the Spirits (which is a wonderful book, and which a bunch of people are reading together in January over at Moonrat's if you're interested) (or, if you're lazy, you can see the movie, which is also beautiful and haunting). That turned out pretty well, so she decided to try it every year.

According to my research,* Allende goes down to her office in the morning, locks herself in, lights candles, meditates, and then writes for 10 straight hours. No outline. No ideas. No index cards. Then she writes 10 hours a day, six days a week until she finishes the book. Nobody reads it until it's done, not even her. When it's finished, she reads and then revises accordingly.

There's so much I want to say about this. Like "Oh, yeah, that's my daily schedule too." Like that I am amazed at her discipline. Like that when I'm older and nobody cares if I disappear for ten hours, I want to try it like that.

Mostly, it's a good reminder for the new year that in the end, it's the old butt in chair that does it: wanna write a book? Go write it. It won't be The House of Spirits, but writing is not like, say, running a four minute mile, which I could never do no matter how hard I trained. And even Isabel Allende has to go back and revise.

* Keillor's article, Google and Wikipedia

Jacqui's Room Topics You Missed Because You Don't Live in My Head

2010-01-04T20:51:00.003-05:00

I had so many things to tell you while I was in Argentina. Turns out I CAN go ten days with no internet, no cell phone, no email, and no day care. What I CANNOT do is stop thinking of things about which to write. But, one of my new year's resolutions is to live in the present, so I'm not going to try to recapture the inspiration. Here's what you missed:

1. If You're Gonna Have Family Drama, There Might As Well Be Actual Wild Monkeys Around

2. The Power of Words: A lengthy discussion of how we trick ourselves into thinking the word we use for a thing is somehow infused with the essence of that thing so that someone who does not speak our language at all should somehow understand anyway if we just say the word loudly and expressively enough. Punctuated by examples from Tinkerbell and others and involving a joke about monkey bars.

3. Dear Guaraní People, So Sorry Your New Year's Day Purifying Dip in the Iguazú Falls** Was Ruined By the Shrieks of My Son And If You Find the Piece of My Husband's Chin That He Bit Off, That's Okay, You Can Keep It.

4. Dulce de Leche, Nectar of the Gods. Includes references to Proust and the parallels between his experience with the madeleines and my tasting this caramel-like goodness for the first time since childhood. Also: elaborate fantasy involving dulce de leche crepes.

5. Why You Can Never Check Anything Off Your Parental To Do List/The Un-Power of Words. In which I have to explain the concept of death to Destructo for the fourth time in two months because he has heard "going to find Grandpa's dada's grave" as "going to find Grandpa's dada and bring him home with us." And other deep thoughts on family history, childhood, the random migration of people and families, and Brooklyn.

And, my favorite,

6. What Will Happen If Immigration Thinks You Are Accidentally Smuggling Diseased Horse Poop Into the U.S.

** At least, that's what I was told was going on; for all I know they were tourists from Duluth.

Wanna Buy Some Picture Books as Presents? Try These.

2009-12-22T10:14:00.000-05:00

Tara Lazar asked me to name my top three picture books of 2009 for her Best Picture Books of 2009 list. She ended up with a great list (go check it out), but I was all, "Really, Tara? Three?! Why don't I also pick my favorite two toes and one doughnut flavor, while I'm at it?"

So for my own list, I'm cheating. I'm doing five, including the three I gave Tara and two other favorites, any of which could have made the top three.

Here goes:

1. Two of a Kind
story by me
art by Matt Phelan

Let's get the shameless self-love out of the way: I would be lying if I didn't pick Two of a Kind. Michael Sussman refrained from mentioning Otto Grows Down, citing modesty. But let's be honest. 1. I am not that modest, and 2. I'd like to be cool enough to pretend I didn't dance like a four year-old fairy girl whenever I turn to the page with my name on it. But I'm not. And I do. More than that, though, I still love the story and the way it makes kids nod in recognition.

2. Duck! Rabbit!
by Amy Krouse Rosenthal & Tom Lichtenheld

I was smitten with this book from the start. The concept is simple: is it a duck or a rabbit? Two voices argue. Giggling ensues. As I blogged in July, we get extra giggling in our house because Destructo does not have the cognitive ability to see it both ways and so he thinks the point of the book is that some poor dope thinks that bunny's a duck.

3. A Book
by Mordecai Gerstein

Kirkus called it "Metafiction for the picture-book set." A young girl who lives in the book with her family struggles to find her story, trying on different genres and marveling at the giant mushy faces (that's us) looking in on her. It's funny, it's smart, and it is truly unique. Plus, we read it five hundred times in the first month we had it and I never tired of it.

4. Thunder Boomer
by Shutta Crum, illus. Carol Thompson

I just searched my blog and I only briefly recommended this book to you. This is a big mistake. The only reason this wasn't on my top three list is that I thought I'd already blabbed enough about it all over the intrawebs. If you have a kid or are a kid or want to write picture books or if you are afraid of storms or if you love storms or if you think underwear is funny and kittens are cute, you should GO BUY THIS BOOK TODAY. Shutta Crum writes simply beautiful prose-poetry, the illustrations are gorgeous, and the story of the family, the storm that hits their farm, and the surprise they find afterwards is lovely. Don't take my word for it: School Library Journal and the Smithsonian both chose it as one of the best books of the year.

5. You Never Heard of Sandy Koufax?!
by Jonah Winter, André Carrilho

I totally forgot this one was from this year!. The text below is stolen from my original post about it.

Why you must love it: Because you must love Sandy Koufax, who struggled and overcame and stood up for his beliefs and retired on top. And was a good guy, it seems. The voice is perfect and the story has what I consider the perfect level of information for a picture book biography.*

Caveat: The illustrations. I like them and they're very cool, but the faces are warped and it freaked Destructo out quite a bit: "Why he YOOK yike dat? He really yook yike dat?"

There it is. That's my opinion and I'm sticking to it. Unless I see something else I forgot about that's awesome. Or someone offers doughnuts.

So, what are YOUR top three (or five) picture books of 2009? Discuss.

The Buzzard in My Buick

2009-12-17T07:29:00.000-05:00

It's been too long since we had a good Thursday News of the Absurd Will Someone Please Write This Book Inspirational Moment (TNoftheAWSPWTBIM). And then in flew, er, walked this.

From Yahoo!News/AP:

Big bird gets talon caught in DC Metro escalator

That's a big bird, not THE Big Bird, who clearly is talon-free and rich enough to take taxis. Apparently, some kind of large bird of prey that nobody could identify (Really? Nobody had an iPhone and an image search?! Strong reporting there, AP) tried to walk onto the escalator down into the subway and got his talon caught. Rescuers from the fire department were able to "remove a portion of the escalator" and free the bird, who then spent several hours atop a nearby gas station.

Onlookers were puzzled by the bird's behavior. I am not puzzled. Obviously, he is trying to get somewhere. You can't get a cab in DC in bad weather. The subway was a humiliating failure, so now he's at the gas station, hoping to thumb a ride. Talon a ride.

There's a book in the question of where he's going. But I want the picture book story of the ride he thumbs.

Stevie's grandmother isn't supposed to drive anywhere because she can barely see. But she does it anyway. And she's too good-hearted to turn down the hitchhiker she picks up at the gas station, no matter how much he smells of road kill. Now he and Stevie are strapped into car seats in the back of her Buick, sucking at sippy cups and tossing each other goldfish.

You can go two ways here: either it's the story of Stevie's new friendship (called The Buzzard in My Buick, of course) or it's a hilarious tale of all the indignations the bird suffers on his trip: stuck in the subway, back of the Buick, trapped at the back of the plane beside a family on their way home from Disney World, cringing while the other birds circling the air balloon mocking him...

Wait! Maybe he's AFRAID OF HEIGHTS. Possibilities abound.

Who will write me this book?

December is looking up

2009-12-14T20:48:00.000-05:00

How could it not be, with surprise reviews popping up to make me smile?

Check out the kind, kind words about Two of a Kind at 100 Scope Notes and The HappyNappyBookseller.

How We Celebrate Hanukkah At My House

2009-12-11T13:10:00.001-05:00

an original blog play in three acts

Act I: Why I Want To Growl At People Who Ask My Jewish Kids If Santa Is Coming
Destructo awakes, rubs his sleepy eyes, and looks out the window.
DESTRUCTO: Snow!
JACQUI: Yes, it's snowing. Hurrah!
DESTRUCTO: Santa come today!
JACQUI: Huh?
DESTRUCTO: Santa come when it snows.
JACQUI: Well, kind of. He comes on Christmas.
DESTRUCTO: It Kissmas!
JACQUI: No.
DESTRUCTO: But it SNOWING!
JACQUI: It's almost Christmas. But today is a special holiday too. Do you know what?
DESTRUCTO: Kissmas?
JACQUI: No, it's HANUKKAH. And you know what that means?
DESTRUCTO: Santa comes!
JACQUI: No. We get to have a Hanukkah party. In fact, we get to have a party every night for the next eight nights.
DESTRUCTO: (warming to the idea) Wif treats?
JACQUI: Yup. And games and prizes and chocolate coins!
DESTRUCTO: Hurrah!
JACQUI: And tonight, you get to open a present --
DESTRUCTO: From Santa!
JACQUI: (bangs head on menorah)

Act II: Things Tink Is Not Getting For Hanukkah
JACQUI: So, Tink, anything special you want for Hanukkah?
TINK: A dog.
JACQUI: Ha! I mean, um, maybe. Anything else?
TINK: A guinea pig. Or a hamster. Something in that family.
JACQUI: Is that the small rodents that smell family?
TINK: Guinea pigs don't smell.
JACQUI: Rarely have less true words been spoken.
TINK: What?
JACQUI: Nothing. What else?
TINK: A snake.
THOR: No way.*
TINK: A lizard, a turtle, a tree frog.
JACQUI: Tink, what do you want for Hanukkah that isn't alive?
TINK: Nothing. How about a cat?
JACQUI: We have two cats. You can have them.
TINK: But I want a new cat.
JACQUI: I tell you what. I'll get them groomed and bathed and you can start being in charge of them.
TINK: They'll be my cats?
JACQUI: They'll be your cats.
TINK: I get to rename them.
JACQUI: Sure.
And that is how my twelve year-old cats, who thought they couldn't fall any further into cat purgatory, got new names. Meet "Shimmer"

and "Hairball." The look on Shimmer's face should sum up his feelings on this matter.

* Note: Thor has an abiding and unmanly fear of snakes.

Act III: Peace on Earth, Donut to All

TINK: Mama, we talked about "Shalom" at Hebrew School today. It's cool how it means peace and hello and goodbye.
JACQUI: Yeah. It's like you're wishing people peace every time you say hello.
TINK: Donut.
JACQUI: What?
TINK: I want a donut.
JACQUI: Oh, I thought you were wishing me donut.
TINK: Hee hee. I was wishing me donut.
JACQUI: Well, donut to you too. Oh, that felt good. I am definitely doing this from now on.
TINK: Me too. Nice talking to you. Donut.
(they crack up)
So, throughout this holiday season, Tink and I will be saying "donut" instead of hello or goodbye or peace. Because we can all use more donut in the world.

Happy Hanukkah, and donut to all of you.

Why baking cookies is like writing my book

2009-12-03T09:08:00.000-05:00

I made cookies yesterday with Destructo. The directions said, "Grease two baking sheets." So when the recipe was all measured and mixed and ready, I tried to divide the dough into a reasonable number of cookies to fit onto two cookie sheets. Then I looked at the recipe. "Makes six dozen cookies," it said.

Hmm, I thought. Six dozen cookies are unlikely to fit on the two cookie sheets they told me to grease. Probably, I should make these much smaller. But then they won't fit on two cookie sheets. Well, I could get more cookie sheets. I could do several batches. I could freeze the leftover dough for another day. I could do a lot of reasonable things, all of which require energy and also the acceptance of moving in what feels like a backwards direction.

Or, I could leave the cookies as they are and bake them. Which is what I did. And, of course, the cookies all ran into one another and the edges got much more done and the cookies are hexagonal where I had to use a spatula to separate them. They are fine. They taste fine. But they're probably not as great as they could have been if I weren't so lazy.

So then I went to critique group. I brought my new book, the one I'm so in love with. They liked it. A lot. But they raised a concern, a big one. The same concern Tink had when she read it. To address it, I'll need to go back do a lot of rewriting and trashing of what I've already written. Which requires a lot of energy and also the acceptance of moving in what feels like a backwards direction.

Probably, it'll be fine the way it is. But unlike cookies, I'm not willing to settle for "fine." So I must overcome this "get things accomplished" instinct, this desire to fast draft, to cross things off my to do list, to feel "productive." The truth is that writing isn't a linear activity. It's a swirling and stopping, fits and starts, jags of genius/weeks of drivel rollercoaster that does not always even move forwards. Type type type...delete delete delete.

So today, I am back to the beginning.

Ah, well. At least I have cookies.

The Best Writing Tool I Have...

2009-12-02T07:55:00.001-05:00

... is these.

I don't even listen to music. I just wear them.

Because the fact is this: when I was a teacher, I was in my classroom unable to be reached all day. Nobody ever said, "I know you're working, but..." or "Do you have to teach the WHOLE day?"

Nobody ever asks a surgeon to make a quick run to the airport an hour away.

But people ignore the fact that I'm writing -- that I'm a writer -- all. the. time.

And here is a secret: I am not always strong enough to say, "No, I can't. I am writing." Because of course a surgeon's patients will die if he runs off to the airport. Nobody's going to die if my paragraph goes unfinished.

But that doesn't mean it's fair to ask me. And it doesn't mean I should say yes. Nobody in the world will respect my writing time, if I can't.

So, I have the earphones. And the basement office where the phone can't reach.

And some advice for this December: love your family and friends. Spend time with them and do nice things for them. Be excited to celebrate whatever you celebrate.

But, when it's time, DO NOT FEEL BAD about announcing, "I have to go write." Do not let anyone talk you out of it. Leave the drama and the guilt and the wrapping paper where they are and escape into your story.

And bring your earphones.

It's the last day...

2009-11-30T08:14:00.002-05:00

... of NaNoWriMo, and I only have ONE MILLION words to go in my novel.

How about you?

This Week's Library Haul

2009-11-23T05:29:00.000-05:00

Here is an unintended trend this week: authors writing books about things that clearly actually happened to those authors as adults.

The Bear Upstairs
by Shirley Mozelle, illus. Doug Cushman

The writer bear downstairs is upset when a VERY LOUD BEAR moves in upstairs and interrupts her quiet life of tea and typing. Fortunately, he owns her book and wins her over her with omelets.

Destructo didn't really understand the joke here that the downstairs bear is charmed by the upstairs bear being a fan, or that she's pleased he'll be gone at work all day starting the next week. Tink got it and kind of giggled. Mainly, though, the fun is in reading out loud -- VERY LOUD -- the noises the upstairs bear makes.

The Great Gracie Chase
by Cynthia Rylant, illus. Mark Teague

Gracie (like the upstairs bear) likes a quiet life. When the painters come and make a ton of noise and put her outside, she runs away. The whole town chases her. When they collapse, tuckered out, she goes home. At the end of the book, the author bio reveals that Cynthia Rylant has a dog named Gracie.

The illustrations of Gracie in this book are so darn cute that I had to like it. Also, I love how simply it explains the quintessential dog act of taking off running and then, seemingly with no reason, turning around and coming home. Gracie had to run, Rylant tells us. People were chasing her.

Parental bragging moment: Tinkerbell pointed out that most of the book is from Gracie's point of view (though it's written in 3rd person). However, the text twice says, "Silly little dog," which bothered Tink because "Gracie would never call herself silly." She's a GENIUS, I tell you. Seriously, I wish most adults who write for kids could understand that subtle difference.

And then there's the authors writing about things that clearly happen to real children, over and over and over...

Sheila Rae, the Brave
by Kevin Henkes

Sheila Rae is not afraid of anything, but her sister Louise is a scaredy-cat. Er, scaredy-mouse. Anyway, one day Sheila Rae gets lost and Louise gets to be the brave one and rescue her.

I love me some Kevin Henkes. This despite the fact that EVERY SINGLE one of his books breaks rule #8 of Jacqui's Cardinal Rules for Picture Books: "the kid must solve his own problem." Whenever I talk about #8 in a workshop, someone says, "But what about Kevin Henkes?!" Well, what about him? The man is a picture book making genius and if you can make books like Kevin Henkes you have my permission to break nine of my rules. The rule you may not break is #6, on not talking down to kids and not moralizing to them, because this is what makes Henkes so great: he ALWAYS writes from the kid's point of view and never trivializes their concerns.

In any case, my kids loved this book.

One For Me, One For You
by C.C. Cameron, illus. Grace Lin*

This is my favorite book of the week. Two animals have a playdate. They do okay sharing four cookies, but then there are only three trucks. Tears, pulling, and time-outs ensue.

This book is in rhyme, with maybe 10-15 words on a page. The text is sparse ("If I take three, it's fine with me, but..."), yet Destructo and I knew exactly what was going on. And what was going on is near and dear to the two/three year old soul.

Richard Scarry's the Great Pie Robbery and Other Mysteries

Destructo loves mysteries. This is entirely because Tinkerbell is making her way through all my old Nancy Drew books and all the Encyclopedia Browns in the library. So when we saw a Busytown book with mysteries, it was a must have.

The first time I picked up a Richard Scarry book with my own kids, I wanted to scoff. The mom is always in the kitchen, etc. But when I opened it, my heart went "Oh. Aw. I remember that." and filled with warm. The illustration details are hilarious. The stories are fun. And the mysteries in this one are just solvable enough to be interesting for preschoolers. We have read it seven million times.

Rainbow Fairies (assorted Pet Fairies and Weather Fairies)
No author listed, which should tell you something.

Tink had these recommended to her by a friend who hates to read but loves these books. I am all for her friend, who would not read otherwise, reading them. But Tink refusing to read the genius that is Karen Hesse's Sable because she is reading about Shannon the Ocean Fairy is like, like, well, I don't know what it's like, but it makes me want to BANG MY HEAD. Hard.

* links to websites for artist and author not working

Bits of yumminess

2009-11-20T05:31:00.001-05:00

1. I had two great critique groups this week and now I am even more excited about my new love affair. Writing, writing, writing... I love it when it's like this.

2. The Winter Blog Blast Tour ends today (boo hoo). You can find the whole week's worth of awesome at Chasing Ray's Master Schedule. Truly, there is some fantasticness and inspiration to be found. Today, you can go see:

Lisa Schroeder at Writing & Ruminating
Alan DeNiro at Shaken & Stirred
Joan Holub at Bildungsroman
Pam Bachorz at MotherReader
Sheba Karim at Finding Wonderland
Robin LaFevers at HipWriterMama

3. I don't know what you heard, but nobody around here is taking the rest of the day off to do anything having to do anything with this. Nope. No sirree Bob.

Mmm. It's like doughnuts for your brain.

A Day in the Life

2009-11-19T10:18:00.002-05:00

I recently read Annie Dillard's The Writing Life, in which she describes the daily schedules of herself and other prolific, well-known authors. It's remarkable how similar MY daily schedule is to hers. Here, for example, is Wednesday's schedule:

6:00 am Get off red-eye flight on Atheneum jet home from Bildungsroman.
6:30 am Yoga, quiet meditation
7:30 am Pensive walk through woods behind house
8:15 am Chop firewood, make coffee, 100% organic whole wheat banana pancakes
8:45 am Kiss children (who have quietly prepared themselves for the school day) off to school
9:00 am Write 1,700 words.
11:00 am Stop at local independent bookstore to pick up Thor's manifesto on Faust. Be mobbed by adoring fans.
12:00 pm Luncheon with two of smartest women I know. Discuss educational philosophy and the gifted student, transcendental characters in literary theory, and Dante.
1:00 pm Write 1,700 more words.
3:00 pm Soup kitchen
4:30 pm Pick children up from school. Serve homemade organic blueberry muffins with 2 pounds spinach (from our hydroponic greenhouse!) blended into batter.
5:00 pm Work with children to thresh wheat, harvest squash, etc. for hand-rolled gnocchi with fall vegetables.
6:00 pm Family volunteer night at local animal shelter
7:00 pm Family dinner. Discuss highlights and lowlights of everyone's day in calm, non-combative atmosphere. Brainstorm together possible solutions for individual difficulties. End by linking arms and singing Kumbaya.
8:00 pm Family read aloud from classics in children's literature
8:30 pm Children sleeping peacefully. Romantic dessert with Thor.
9:15 pm Write 1,700 more words. Also, re-tile master bathroom and plant 150 tulip bulbs.
10:00 pm Make tomorrow's lunches, pick tomorrow's outfits, clean house, get breakfast ready to go, brush cats, hang "reminder" notes for kids.
10:15 pm Yoga, floss, 15 minutes organic avocado anti-aging mask
10:35 pm Read this year's dense but rewarding Booker/Nobel/Pulitzer Prize winner.
11:00 pm Fall soundly asleep. Dream plot to best-selling and literary masterpiece.

What? You don't believe me? But who would read a writing book that tells the truth about the daily schedule...

6:00 am Give up trying to get toddler back to sleep. Get up.
6:30 am Have already said, "Don't touch that" 15 times. Hear toddler wake up sister.
6:31 am "What was that?!" "She hit me!" "Did not! Besides, he woke me up!"
7:30 am Everyone downstairs for breakfast of frozen waffles. Make lunches, locate coats, hates, and one glove each, give up on lost library book. Forget to feed cats.
8:15 am Discover green booger-like slime ball in container of soy milk. Do not vomit.
8:17 am Announce, "We are leaving NOW."
8:35 am Leave.
8:45 am Kiss daughter. Throw her in general vicinity of school.
9:00 am Stop at local independent bookstore to pick up Thor's book on the NBA. Try to keep son from eating books in front of proprietor.
11:00 am Storyhour at library.
12:00 pm Luncheon with two of smartest women I know. Discuss educational philosophy and the gifted student, transcendental characters in literary theory, and snot.
1:00 pm Pick daughter up early from school for the big "buy a new fish" adventure.
1:15 pm To PetCo. Choose new fish. Return home.
1:45 pm Wash rocks for fish tank. Son falls while climbing. Try to determine if that is actually a missing chunk of tongue he has bitten off.
2:00 pm Flood daughter's dresser with overflowed fish water.
2:30 pm Son consumes mouthful of dried fish flakes.
3:00 pm Blue's Clues. Attempt to write.
4:30 pm Release fish into tank of water. Assure children fish are acclimated.
5:00 pm Realize dinner of salmon was risky choice given the new pets. Assure children that salmon eat zebrafish and that zebrafish will be thrilled we have turned the tables.
5:30 pm Make chicken nuggets.
6:00 pm Family dinner. At no point will all four members of family be seated, nor will anyone be allowed to finish a sentence. End by checking on fish, who seem sluggish. Assure children fish are adjusting to new home.
8:00 pm Family read aloud from Richard Scarry's Busytown Mysteries. Again.
8:30 pm Twitter.
9:15 pm Fall asleep writing own story.
9:30 pm Brush teeth. Sort of.
10:00 pm Read Bobby vs. Girls (Accidentally).
11:00 pm Fall asleep. Dream brilliant solution to thorny plot problems. Forget it immediately.

7:00 am Flush dead fish.

Sigh.

Five Reasons Why...

2009-11-18T07:43:00.001-05:00

...you must love Little Willow.

1. She created my totally awesome and other adjectives of praise sweet new website! Go check it out. Fabulous, eh? I am in love with the little stars.

2. During the making of said website (did you go look yet? Why not?!), she was unfazed by my multiple mind-changings, lengthy delays in response, and failure to deliver certain copy, like, ever.

3. She made The New Girl...And Me one her of "best books of September 2009," so you know she has great taste.

4. She reads A LOT of young adult books, reviews them intelligently and fairly, and believes in the power they have to help kids beyond the pages of the book. To wit: her list of YA books that deal with tough issues teens face, categorized by issue.

5. She interviews fantastic people like...ME. Yup, I'm over at Bildungsroman today as part of the Winter Blog Blast Tour. PLEASE come by and say hi, okay?

Winter Blog Blast Tour

2009-11-16T09:13:00.000-05:00

The Winter Blog Blast Tour is here! What's a Winter Blog Blast Tour? It's an invention of Chasing Ray's. It's a series of author interviews. It's a traveling conversation about writing and books. It's a party.

And I am much excited to be a part of it. I'll be over at Bildungsroman on Wednesday, talking picture books with Little Willow. Check out the whole week of fun at Chasing Ray. Here's today's line-up.

Megan Whalen Turner at Hip Writer Mama: "As much as I love short stories, they come rarely—like little presents left on the doorstep. There's no ordering them online with guaranteed delivery, no matter how much I save up for it."

Frances Hardinge at Fuse Number 8: "Expect kidnaps, betrayal, chocolate, moonlit chases, traps within traps, consequences, fire from above, death-defying chimney incidents and an extremely important radish."

Jim Ottaviani at Chasing Ray: "So the notion that heroes are defined by the strength of their opposition couldn't be more true in this case and I wanted to show the Russian engineers and cosmonauts as the formidable competition that they were. And, as I hope the book showed out, they really were competitors, not enemies."

Courtney Sheinmel at Bildungsroman: "I'm definitely more afraid of dying than speaking in public, but I still get nervous when I have to do it...."

Derek Landy at Finding Wonderland

Mary E. Pearson at Miss Erin

PiBoIdMo

2009-11-14T05:37:00.000-05:00

In which I answer your most pressing questions.

1. What is PiBoIdMo?
It's Picture Book Idea Month, the picture book lover's alternative to NaNoWriMo, in which you think of a picture book idea every day for a month.

2. Cool. I'll try it. So, what should I write about today?
Funny you should ask! I am guest blogging over at Tara Lazar's blog today! Come on by and be inspired. And check out Tara's brilliant PiBoIdMo contest; you could have an agent check out five of your favorite picture book ideas.

3. Wait! I was already over at Tara's. That's how I got here. Now what?
Welcome to Jacqui's Room! Come on in and have a look around. Ideas for getting started are to your left under "New to Jacqui's Room? Try these." If you are doing PiBoIdMo, you may especially like the Thursday News of the Absurd Inspirational Moments. And come back again soon!

4, What are some bad puns you made up that didn't fit anywhere in this post?
Why, I'm so glad you asked. I was just going to cook some pumpkin PiBoIdMo.

The Least You Need to Know: I Wrote a Book. Now What?

2009-11-13T12:26:00.000-05:00

Jacqui's Advice on Getting Started

1. Ask yourself: who is the audience for this story? People get caught up in the mystique of being published, of being on book store shelves. But not every book has to be published to be a success. If you wrote a story for your daughter and she loved it and you print it out and she illustrates it, it may be the most special book in her library. My own kids have plenty of books like this. That doesn't mean they'll be special to every kid. It also doesn't mean they're worth less than a book that sells in a store. So ask yourself, who is the audience for this story? Or, a harder question, if I heard someone else wrote this story would I buy it?

2. If you decide to forge ahead with publishing, your first step is to wait. Wait until the story is distant enough that you can sit down and read it and be surprised. This may be a few weeks or a few months or even years. Then re-read and revise accordingly.

3. Read your story to some kids who don't love you. Your own kids will love it because you wrote it. So will your niece. You need an objective audience. Better yet: get another adult to read it to them while you watch. Pay attention. Take notes. Do they laugh in the right places? Do they yawn? Do they shrug and say, "It was good" at the end, or do they want to hear it again? Revise accordingly.

4. Get some other people's opinions. Find a critique group, online or in person. Join the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI). You don't have to be published to join and they are a wealth of information and resources. Your local chapter may be able to refer you to a local critique group. After your critiquers comment, revise accordingly.

5. But don't ask me. I'm sorry. I can't offer to read your book for you. I get a lot of requests and I barely have enough time to do my own writing, so my agent has forbidden me to read anyone else's work, outside my critique groups. Unfortunately, this is true of most authors.

6. Instead, go and look at the Jacqui's Room Rules for Picture Books. Revise accordingly.

7. Do your research before you submit. Children's Writers and Illustrators Market (CWIM) is a great place to start. The SCBWI site has good articles on getting started. Editor Harold Underdown's site has great information on the basics, as does his Complete Idiot's Guide to Children's Publishing. Write4kids.com's "How Do I Get Started As A Children's Writer" is good too. All of these resources will help you choose the best editor, publishing house, etc. for your specific story.

8. Follow the rules. Publishers and editors have individual requirements for submissions. Follow them.

9. But what about an agent? Yes. Having an agent makes things much, much easier. Agents are hard to snag, though, and most of them are looking for clients with a body of work that goes beyond one book. If you decide to go agent hunting, step 7 still applies, except now you are looking for someone who is a good fit both for your work and for you.

10. Go write another book. Don't sit around and wait to hear and waste away. Children's publishing moves very, very slowly. Use your time to keep moving ahead. And good luck!

This is a follow-up to The Least You Need to Know: How to Write a Picture Book.

The Least You Need to Know: How to Write a Picture Book

2009-11-13T12:21:00.001-05:00

Lately, I've had a ton of questions about picture books from people who are just starting to write them. I realized this: I have very strong opinions on what makes a good picture book. Here they are...

Jacqui's Rules/Suggestions/Thoughts

1. Read 100 first.
Immerse yourself in the great picture books that are already written. Start with Fuse #8’s list of the Top 100 Picture Books of All Time.Check out the Jacqui's Room top ten list. Ask your local librarian. Ask a five year old. Read them all. Study what you like and don't like. Eavesdrop on story time and hear what kids like. Then go write, but don't try to sound like a picture book. Write something totally different.

2. Picture books have 500-700 words. Or fewer.
When the act of sounding out each word is hard for readers, you need to make every word count. Plus, you don't want to be that book parents hide because it's too long for bedtime.

3. Picture books are 32 pages long.
1 half page to start, 14 two page spreads, and 1 half page to end.

Don't think about this while you write your story, or when you format it for publishers (if you do). But when you're done, make a "dummy" version of the book where you split the text into pages and imagine the art for each page. If your story won't fit the format, you may need to revise.

4. Each page much have something newly illustratable.
Nobody wants to read a book where ten pictures in a row show the grandma and kid talking. Something new has to happen on each page.

5. The text of your story must stand alone.
Don't write with art directions or explanations. Use your words to draw the pictures in your reader's head. If you have to explain the story, figure out a way to make those things clear in the text.

6. Don't talk down to children or moralize to them.
On talking down: Kids are young; they are not stupid. In fact, they are much harder to write for than adults. Kids' problems may seem small or cute to you, but to the kids they are everything. Don't write "top down." Put yourself in their shoes.

On moralising: I am guessing you never got really excited about a book because someone told you, "This is going to teach you about compassion!" Focus on a story, not a lesson.

7. Your story must have a beginning, a middle, and an end.
Good stories do.

8. Your story must have a conflict or a problem, and that problem must be solved by the kid.
Without a problem, it's hard to have a story where I care what happens. And if the kid doesn't solve it, how can kids feel great about it?

9. Show, don't tell.
I want the juicy details. Don't tell me how she feels; put me in her shoes.

10. If you write in rhyme, your rhyme and meter must be perfect.
Absolutely perfect. If I am six years old and I try to sound out your book letter by painstaking letter, I rely on your rhyme and meter to help me read. If I'm a parent, I am far more likely to read your book if it makes my mouth happy to do so.

If you are writing in rhyme,
Make it rhyme all of the time,
Don't let your meter get wonky,
And put too many syllables in your not-really-rhyming pay-off line.

11. Forget numbers 2-10 until your story is written. Just start writing. Worry about the rules later.
And have fun.

Why Do Fools Fall in Love?

2009-11-08T22:23:00.000-05:00

You know that friend you have, who's in love with someone new every eight months? Who keeps saying, "Oh, that's over. But this new guy/girl..." Three months later all she can do is complain about how badly it's going. Six months later she's heartbroken. Seven months later she has sworn off love forever.

"Never again," she vows, shaking a fist. And then, at eight months, "This NEW one..."

So, I started this new book. And this NEW one...is going to be the best book ever.

Dear Tinkerbell,

2009-11-06T06:10:00.000-05:00

I don't care how many times you have read Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone. You must stop referring to your brother as "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

In addition:

1. It is not okay to hide jars of "potion" in the corners of the basement, particularly if said potion contains large quantities of vermin-attracting fruit juice.

2. I know what the "Petrificus Totalus" spell does and I do not appreciate having you shout it at me during lectures on your behavioral faults.

3. You cannot invent magic words. Specifically, if your father asks, "What's the magic word?" when you rudely demand something, you may not answer, "Monkey bars." Further, you may not then use "monkey bars" in the place of "please" in making requests, as in "Get my homework folder, monkey bars."

Lastly, for the 100th time, no, the book I am writing is not as good as Harry Potter. Yes, I wish it were too. Thanks for the tip about the juicy details. I'll work on it.

love,
Your Mother

What Kids Want

2009-11-05T09:40:00.002-05:00

Or, Why I Love My Local Indie Book Store

Hey! You know what makes a great gift for any holiday you might celebrate? A signed, personalized copy of TWO OF A KIND!

"I wish!" you exclaim. "But how can I get one?"

Well, you're in luck, because Nicola's Books in Ann Arbor rocks. Here's what they're doing for us:

If you order Two of a Kind (or The New Girl...And Me) online through Nicola's,
specify in your order that you want it signed,
and then email me and tell me what you want the dedication to say,
Nicola and I will sign, wrap, and ship it for you.
If you order by December 10, you can have it in time for Xmas.

Don't the kids in your life deserve a great book? Don't they deserve ten or twenty copies each? Think how cool you'll seem when they're signed and personalized!

Now, go buy one million copies.

Catch a Falling Leaf, part 2

2009-10-27T09:14:00.000-04:00

Long time visitors to Jacqui's Room will remember that every fall I try to catch a falling leaf* for luck. I haven't gotten to it this year, mainly because the weather went from summer to winter with just a breath of fall in between, followed by a few days of fall, some spring rain, and today is strangely, spookily still. All of this is, of course, prelude to Michigan winter, which fills my soul with dread and my attic with frozen beasts. Remind me again why I live in Michigan?

In any case, this week Tinkerbell came home from school and asked me to close my eyes and hold out my hands. When I did, she put a small, curved brown leaf on my palm.

"I caught it for you. Because it's shaped like a J and I knew you didn't have one yet."

And here I thought it couldn't get better than catching one myself. Winter? Bring it on.

* And if you're new, the leaf post is one of my favorites, and you should try it.

Yes!

2009-10-26T13:04:00.000-04:00

Have you read Operation Yes, by Sara Lewis Holmes yet?

Why not?

Full disclosure: I love Sara. She is funny and smart and if you don't visit her blog Read Write Believe regularly, you are missing out. Her first book, Letters From Rapunzel, was lovely, too, so I was not surprised to enjoy this book.

I was surprised, however, to read something that is so wonderfully different from other books out there.

There are funny middle grade books. And there are deep or timely middle grade books. And there are middle grade books with madcap adventures, wacky teachers, and crazy plans in which the kids show the adults what up. But there are very few that are so well-written or that feel so completely realistic in terms of the child character's emotions; at every step along the way, I believed these characters, I felt with them what they felt, and I giggled and choked up and delighted.

And so will you, so go get it.

But if you don't believe me, read what Booklist had to say here.

Carpet Parking

2009-10-22T05:17:00.001-04:00

This week's Thursday News of the Absurd Will Someone Please Write This Book Inspirational Moment (TNoftheAWSPWTBIM) is photographic.

On the walk to Tink's school today, cutting through undergraduate student housing, I saw this:

In case you can't tell, that's bike parking, and it's holding a bike, a bike, a bike, a carpet, a bike, and a bike.

Other people speculated that the carpet had been washed and was set there to dry. Muggles, all of them.

Because it's clearly magic. You can't just park those things anywhere, you know.

What I didn't understand, though, is why it wasn't locked. I mean, I know it's a beige Stainmaster cheapie and not an elaborate oriental, but won't someone steal it?

And then it occurred to me: someone already has.

Who will write me this book?

Try this. Now.

2009-10-20T10:30:00.000-04:00

Today is the National Day on Writing. You can go here to see testimonials from writers on why they write or here to join the fun and submit your own writing.

Or, you can do this:

Do not read ahead in these directions.

1. Get a pen or pencil or crayon and some paper or cardboard or parchment. Don't pick them up yet. Just leave them in reach.

2. Check the time. Give yourself 15 minutes. What's 15 minutes?! You'll do your daily 15 minute "Man, I worship Jacqui" dance twice tomorrow.

3. Now, think of that story you've always thought about writing. I don't care if you're not a writer. We all have a story to tell. Plus, you're not going to write the great American novel in 15 minutes, so who cares? If you are a writer, I know there's one in there that scares you because it's not your genre or it's too personal or too hard to pull off. Don't worry about all of that. Just think of the story.

4. Imagine this: the story is already written. You already did all the work. I have it here, in front of me. Doesn't that feel good. I look at it. I read the first line. Hmm. What is the first line? Write it down. Don't think about it. I don't care if it stinks. We are going to shred this and hide it under the coffee grounds in the trash when you're done. C'mon, it's ONE sentence. Write it.

5. Oh, that's intriguing. I must know more. What are the next two sentences? Write them down. What's that? You don't know what to say. Yes, you do. The first line's already written. Just tell me what comes next. Don't worry about craft; remember the coffee grounds.

6. Keep writing. Don't lift your pen from the paper until those 15 minutes are up. I don't care if you think your spelling or your handwriting stinks or if you haven't written anything but checks since high school. I don't care if you write the worst story ever written in the history of stories. Just keep writing. Don't read #7 until 15 minutes are done.

7. When 15 minutes are over, stop. Shred the paper and hide it under the coffee grounds. Or maybe don't. Maybe save it and tomorrow, write for 15 more minutes. Maybe hide a secret notebook that you carry on your person so nobody can find it. Write while you wait in the car line at your kid's school, when you get to the dryer and it still has five more minutes, and while you're waiting for your prescription -- all of a sudden you have 15 minutes a day. Don't think about publishing it or what the audience is or if it meets certain standards. Just write it like you used to write your diary. Write "Do Not Read This Even If I Die! I Mean It!" on the cover. That's what mine says, anyway.

No, seriously. Just try it. And happy National Day on Writing.

Bad Kitty Gets a Bath

2009-10-12T09:42:00.000-04:00

I am still writing writing writing. I finished my notebook and moved to the next one (yes, I write everything longhand first) and it's going very well.

Whenever I am writing quickly like this, I start to wish I could draw. I think if I could draw I could come closer to getting exactly what I envision in my head down on paper. I know that if I were an illustrator, it would still be frustrating; I am sure artists feel jealous that writers have words to use sometimes. But sometimes a picture really is worth 1,000, you know?

For example, have you read Nick Bruel's Bad Kitty Gets a Bath?
A friend got it for Tink and it is the funniest thing I have read all month. It's in graphic novel format and the words are hilarious but the pictures! I could write humor for weeks and not get as funny as the pictures of Bad Kitty ridding himself of a hairball. I read it at bedtime (my own) and tried to make Thor read it with me and giggled aloud until he mocked me and then turned back to the front and read it again.

Apparently this is a series and I shall soon hunt down the rest. As should you, if you have elementary-aged readers. Or cats.

As for me, I must head back to the composition notebook and to the challenge of painting pictures with only words.

Psst! Wanna buy a granny?

2009-10-08T06:12:00.000-04:00

Oh, happy is the Thursday when there is hilarity in the odd news. And even happier when said news is not obscene AND it would make, I think, an awesome middle grade chapter book.

This is your Thursday News of the Absurd Will Someone Please Write This Book Inspirational Moment (TNoftheAWSPWTBIM).

From Reuters India
(Reporting by Paul Casciato; Editing by Steve Addison):

UK girl stopped from selling granny online

Apparently, 10 year old Zoe Pemberton tried this week to auction her grandmother off on Ebay. She described her grandma as "annoying and moaning a lot" but "cuddly." My favorite part? 27 people bid for her before Ebay reminded everyone that grandma trafficking is illegal.

There are two books here. First, you have a comedy about Zoe's efforts to get rid of her grandmother. Selling her on Ebay is only the tip of the iceberg. She also tries to marry her off to their neighbor Sheldon, attempting to get the senile old man to say "I do" before her grandmother figures out what is going on. She scatters ElderTour brochures around the house and fiddles with the GPS on Granny's wheelchair.

OR, and this is the one I want, what if it went through? What if you bought yourself a grandma on Ebay? You order her, save up, send all the money you saved plus some you stole from the change jar on dad's dresser, and ten days later, there's a knock at the door. Mom answers, and in walks Granny. Turns out she's thrilled to escape the brat who sold her and refuses to leave. So, like the stray dog you brought home in second grade, they let you keep her, but you have to take care of her. And turns out she is just as cuddly, but also just as annoying and moaning as advertised.

For some reason, I am picturing this in journal form. No! It's letters to the grandma whom Granny Ebay is replacing (she had a late life need for adventure and is off disabling land mines in Laos).

Poor Granny Ebay. Who will write me this book?

A clarification

2009-10-07T08:15:00.004-04:00

I may have mistakenly given the impression yesterday that I hate the book I am writing. Apparently, some people think when you fantasize about shooting something full of holes it means you don't like it. Go figure.

But, as I told Paul in the comments, I don't hate my book. I LOVE my book. I think it is hilarious and gripping and poignant and may have the ability to cure cancer. If I didn't love it so much, in fact, it would be much easier to write it, because I wouldn't care so much about every single word being perfect for my masterpiece.*

And I don't hate writing. Obviously. Or I wouldn't do it. Don't tell the non-writers who are so sympathetic when I complain, but this struggle is part of the fun of it.**

I don't even hate squirrels that much, except when they're in my house waking my children at odd hours.

* Hmm. This reminds me frighteningly of how I feel about my children.
** For a much smarter, more beautiful explication of this, see Sara Lewis Holmes and Linda Urban's conversation. And, by the way, if you don't read the consistently thoughtful and helpful blogs by Sara and Linda, you should. And if you don't have your copy of Sara's Operation Yes yet, go find one. More on that later.

Killing Anne Lamott's birds

2009-10-06T11:27:00.004-04:00

In which I offer some No, Seriously. Just Try It advice for giving your stupid book the beat down.

Have you read Anne Lamott's Bird by Bird? It's fantastic. Go read it. I'll wait.

Done? Just in case you missed it, one of the best tidbits explains the title. Seems Ms. Lamott's brother had to write a report about, like, ten million different kinds of birds. He left it for the last minute and was overwhelmed to the point of being unable to start.

"How am I going to do this?" he screamed.*

To which his father sagely replied, "Bird by bird."

The idea being that if you sit down to write the best novel ever written, you will be so overwhelmed that you won't be able to write a word. So instead, you take it one chapter, one page, heck, one word at a time, and you can get it done.

I love this idea, but right now, I need something a little stronger. My novel and I are in a fight. I am trying to re-write it; it is acting like a two year-old who refuses to have all of his limbs shoved into a snowsuit. It glares at me from the blank page, singing songs like "Oh, How I Hate You, Writer Wench" and "Never Gonna Get Me Right" while blowing raspberries and eating all my doughnuts.

So instead of thinking of each scene as a delicate little bird, awaiting the gentle breeze of my words to send it to flight, I am picturing them as those outlines of people at a shooting range. I've written the title of each scene left to re-write on its own index card. When it's time to write, I shuffle the cards and pick one and that's what I have to write. Right then. Whether I'm ready or not. Even if it stinks. And when it's done, I say, "Ch-ch-BOOM!" and picture myself blowing the stupid scene full of holes.**

So. Hate your own book? Embrace that feeling. No, seriously. Just try it. And report back.

* The above is my imagined re-enactment of what is told much better in the book.
** Attn newcomers to Jacqui's Room: I am, I promise, a nonviolent person. Except when it comes to recalcitrant novels. And squirrels.

This Week's Library Haul

2009-10-04T21:06:00.000-04:00

We have taken ten million books out of the library since last installment. But all this linking and cover-finding takes time I do not have. Also, some of our haul includes I Spy: Spooky Things That No Kid Could Find* and the such. So here are my two favorites.

The Mine-o-saur
by Sudipta Bardhan-Quallen, illus. David Clark

"It's mine!" screams the Mine-o-saur about everything, until none of the other dinosaurs will play with him. Now he's got all the toys, but (surprise) it's not much fun. So he returns the toys and wins back his friends. The book has some rhyming verse, some prose, which gives it a nice rhythm but keeps it from becoming sing-song.

At first, I thought, "Oh, this is cute." Then we read it. "Again," said Destructo. So we read it the next night. "Again," said Destructo. So we read it the next night. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. And I didn't get tired of it, which is saying A LOT.

Then, the other day, we were in the sand box, making spaghetti with rockballs in the dump truck as usual, when a little boy came over and screamed, "Mine!" He grabbed the dump truck/sauce pan. I expected fireworks. But Destructo just smiled and looked at me. "Dat the Mine-o-saur," he said. See that people? Books in life!

P.S. He still snatched the truck back from the other kid.

Wolves
by Emily Gravett

"Idolize" is not too strong a word for how I feel about Emily Gravett. You've heard about the snuggly fun that Monkey & Me has brought my house. And now I find this. Nobody else plays around with the picture book format like this.

A rabbit borrows a book about wolves from the library. As he reads, a wolf peels off the pages of the book. Tink giggled herself silly at the rabbit's oblivion, as he continues to read even while standing amidst the fleas on the wolf's back. At the end of the book, yes, the wolf eats him, leaving only a fur tuft on the page. The best part: Gravett adds an ending for more "sensitive" readers in which the wolf turns out to be vegetarian and shares a jam sandwich with the rabbit (and they are illustrated as taped back together, rescued from the carnage of the previous page).

It was a little scary for Destructo ("Mama, I don't YIKE wooves.") but Tink and I loved it. And every picture book writer should read it, if only to see the possibilities in the format.

* not the real title