Heart and Soul

I had a guest editorial published in my local newspaper yesterday - it was located on the top of the front section! How cool is that?

Writing never ceases to amaze me. I wrote this one from deep within my soul. It's a wrong that has been perpetuated on our youth for many years and needs to be corrected. The public is behind me, but the bureaucrats have dug their heels in and refused to budge. I think once a person is elected to a political office they lose all common sense. What the heck is in the water in Tallahassee and Washington D.C.?

But, I digress. This piece that was published was easy to write.  Why? Because I have lived it, researched it and written many times before on the same subject.

Today I am struggling with a piece.  It's not a part of me. I found a subject to write about - something a publisher is requesting. It's in my area of expertise, but not in my heart and soul.

Can I do it? I don't know. I'm attending a writing class at my local university this afternoon. I'll present the manuscript to my fellow writers and see what they say.

Stay tuned. I'm hoping for another winner.

EVERYDAY???

I know, I know - If one writes a blog they must post something everyday or people will not read them. EVERYDAY???

OMG when does one find the time? I've been editing and revising a YA novel and trying to write an article for a children's publication. That pretty much takes my entire morning.

I go brain dead in the afternoon. My inactive brain is a result of my profession as a kindergarten teacher. I would spend seven hours a day, five days a week with five and six year old children. I loved every minute of it, but when 4:00 rolled around, my brain would take a holiday. It's a miracle I could find my way home after work - I think someone should invent a remote control car for teachers. All we would have to do is buckle up, push a button and go into the zone.  The car would maneuver its way through the traffic (and in season we have TRAFFIC), deliver us home and have a cold martini waiting. How cool would that be!!!!

Okay, so I wrote something today. It's not the best, but - hey - it's a post until I can get my brain back to some intellectual pursuit and write something of substance.

SEEDS

Where do you find those captivating ideas for your stories? Do you walk the mall and people watch. Read books that ignite something great deep within? Follow trends, or follow your heart?

I decided to take a brain break. I finished my latest project and didn't have any ideas forthcoming, so decided to close the lid of my laptop and think of nothing - absolutely nothing.

But as a writer, my mind doesn't work that way - sparks fly even when I try to squelch them. And, this time I have my grandson, Justin, to blame.

You see he just finished his Eagle Scout project. I am so proud of his hard work and all that he has had to do for this accomplishment. Suddenly, like the trees he distributed, a seed began to grow in my mind. 

Darn. No day off for me. I lifted the lid of my shiny red laptop and my fingers started to move. The story isn't near completion, but the seed is growing. 

My family - my big beautiful family - a treasure trove of ideas - what a blessing.

BTW: Justin's dad has a book contract. How cool is that!!! Like father, like son - shining examples of good people doing good works.

WHAT’S THE HURRY?

Why are we in such a rush? In today’s kindergarten classrooms children are required master a number of sight words and read at a level once reserved for first grade. They must do this to the exclusion of recess, informal play, and in some cases, even the arts.

            Standardized tests have forced our schools into teaching too much, too soon. In his book entitled, The Power of Play, Dr. David Elkind, a professor Emeritus in the Eliot-Pearson Department of Child Development at Tufts University, warns parents and educators of the dangers of developmentally inappropriate early childhood programs.

            Dr. Elkind states, “Comparisons with other countries suggest that there is no benefit to starting formal instruction before the age of six. The majority of other European countries admit children to school at six or seven following a three year period of pre-school education which focuses on social and physical development.”

            Are we guilty of robbing our children of their childhood? Take a look at the October 7, 2010 article by Julie Bosman published in the New York Times entitled; Picture Books No Longer a Staple for Children. We see yet another fundamental piece of early childhood being cast away, thought of as a relic of the past. Bookstores find these beautifully written and illustrated books declining in sales.

Why are we stealing this beloved part of childhood from our children? For what reason? According to the New York Times article, the push to have children reading “more text-heavy chapter books” is a by-product of our obsession with standardize tests.

            In addition, the state of our economy and the price of picture books are forcing parents to avoid them. This doesn’t make much sense when electronic games, at three times the cost, are flying off the shelves of retailers. 

            Our technology is developing at a rapid pace, but our children are not computers. They are not sponges. They are young children, each developing at their own rate with the same emotional, social, and spiritual needs that cannot be hurried. We are depriving them of a well rounded education when we cement them in the abstract world of words, sentences and chapters before they exit their concrete world of learning through their senses.

            It’s my hope that this trend is just that – a trend. That the swinging pendulum, parents and educators will remember that roots of learning need to be secure in order for a healthy child to grow.

It is akin to taking a pink rose bud and prying apart the petals to bring forth a beautiful rose. It doesn’t work. Children, like flowers, need to be given the freedom to grow at their own pace and blossom when they are ready.

Remember: A picture is worth a thousand words. A picture book in the hands of a child is worth much more.

BIRDS OF A FEATHER

            If anyone has ever read my blog (thank you Chris, for always checking it out) you know that one of my daily routines is walking to the beach. I am unbelievably lucky. I live in a slice of paradise, a stone’s throw from the Gulf of Mexico. Today was the best…the air was crisp and cool…the cloudless sky beckoned, so I donned my daughter’s tennis shoes (I said this to see if she reads these) and hiked down the street, through the wetlands to the beach.

This is the good part – there was not another person in sight – no man, no woman, no child, no one, nada – just sand and birds and me. How cool is that!!!

As I walked, sandpipers scurried ahead, pelican skimmed the water, egrets and ibis stood in clusters near the shoreline. Watching these creatures, the saying, “Birds of a feather, flock together,” came to mind. There they stood – a plethora of birds – each in their own group.

It made me think of my experiences in critique groups. I once thought a writer was a writer was a writer. We all searched for that original idea, interviewed our characters to discover their inner workings, struggled for the exact wording, edited, revised. Yes, we were soul mates spending hours of our lives chained to the computer.

Well, at least I thought we were – soul mates, that is - until I entered my first critique group. It was made up of poets, writers of adult fiction, and people writing memoirs.

First the poets. I hate poetry – I don’t get it, pure and simple. But I listened to the musings of the poets. Everyone in the group would ooh and ah. I just sat there – clueless – thinking … what the hell are they saying? I was really out of my league here.

Then came the novelist. Now there’s something I could understand. I read all the time. It was easy to critique something I understood. The stories were interesting, filled with industrial greed, or sex, or intrigue. Very cool.

Then the people writing memoirs. Wow, what courage it takes to write about one’s inner thoughts, life’s experiences, mistakes, triumphs.

           

Then there’s me with my story about a platypus, or a homeless girl, or an uncooperative duck. They all liked what I wrote – they really did – but their critique wasn’t what I needed.

I discovered that they were seagulls, I was a swan. We weren’t birds of a feather.

I went in search of other swans and started my own critique group through the SCBWI.  It isn’t big, but we are tight knit. Everyone understands the nuances of children’s literature. Ideas are shared, manuscripts enhanced, and egos kept in check.

If you aren’t in a critique group, I suggest you find one. You will be tickled you did.

FROM THE HEART

Do you follow trends in the world of publishing?

 I keep close tabs on the children’s book industry. You know how it goes - one day talking animals are in, the next day they’re persona non grata. I know that vampires are out at the present time. Chasing the fads and trends are exhausting.

I search for agents whose “likes” are akin to mine. What are you looking for? Perhaps I can supply it?

Should I write for the latest fads or follow my heart?

That’s an easy question to answer because when I try to write to please another, I just plain can’t do it. The words stick somewhere between my brain and my computer. I must write from the heart—ALWAYS—whether or not what I've written is selling. When I do the words and ideas and chapters flow like a flood after a heavy rain.

Just the other day a misdeed jumped out at me. It was imbedded in an article in our local newspaper. Since I love writing letters to the editor, I couldn’t let this golden opportunity pass me by. So, my heart nudged my brain and I flew to my computer.

Tap, tap, tap (that’s the sound of me typing!).

Was it good enough to reach publication? You bet. When I write from that place deep within my soul it is always good enough.

My letter was published today. And, it was tagged “letter of the day.” How cool is that!

Follow your heart…your gut instinct…whatever you call it…you will never go wrong.

SEDUCTION

He was a smooth talker. Telling me everything I wanted to hear. He caressed my ego, put stars in my eyes. He promised fame and fortune. Oh, he was good, but not good enough.

He had even changed his name from “self-publishing” to “publish on demand.” It sounded so good. For just a few dollars up front, my book would be published and distributed…to major stores like Books-A-Million or Barnes and Noble. All proceeds from sales would by mine.

Mine, mine, mine.

That small upfront investment would be back in my pocket in no time. Yes, his velvet voice almost lulled me into writing that check.

Did I succumb? Of course not. I knew he was coming. I knew what he wanted. And, I enjoyed listening to his pitch.

A friend of mine had just finished writing his life story. He wanted it published for his kids and grandkids…to know their roots, their family history. He found this reputable company and told me how impressed he was with them. He paid them for their expertise in editing and for X number of dollars he would receive X number of books. I decided look them up on the internet. In order to get into the website, I had to list my name, phone number and e-mail address. That’s what I call an “in your face” clue. I told my friend that I expected a call from them that week.

“Oh, no,” he said. “They won’t pursue you.”

He was right, they didn't pursue, they chased. I received three phone calls in one day and two e-mails. They wanted my money and they wanted it badly! Their powers of persuasion were masterful – but, little did they know I have no intention of self-publishing. It’s not for me.

I know my books are good. The writing is the easy part. The hard part is the marketing. Finding a publishing company that needs what I have is like trying to find the preverbal needle in the haystack. I subscribe to three writer’s publications. Each list agents and publishing companies presently open to submissions.

I attend SCBWI conferences and listen to the latest publishing buzz. I learn everything I can about the industry.

Then, I submit. And I wait.

And wait.

And wait.

For me the biggest problem is playing the waiting game. And, hoping that I have a match. Like finding a husband, someone who loves what I have written and will marry me – or at least my manuscript.

But, alas, I am still waiting. A writing spinster looking for my knight in shining armor.

   

AARRGH – CAPTURING THAT SOUND

I walk to the beach every day. It holds a plethora of sensory input—a writer’s dream. I would love to take my laptop with me. Sitting at a table sipping coffee, I would scan the horizon watching the sun dance on the ripples and marvel as the dolphins arc out of the water. I would close my eyes and listen. I would lift the lid of my shiny red computer and magically turn that beauty into text. My fingers would skitter across the keyboard capturing the sights, sounds, smells, even the taste of the warm air and feel of the gritty sand, but, alas, it eludes me at times.

I snap pictures with my cell phone so I can remember the sights. Take today, for instance. The water appeared silver, oh, so smooth, not a wrinkle on the horizon. Brown pelicans skimmed the surface looking for their breakfast. Tiny waves rolled on shore, their foam kissing the feet of the sandpipers as they skittered along the sand. The air hung so heavy with a salty scent that I could almost taste it.

But, it’s the sound of those waves that bring peace to my soul. I wish I could describe it.  I can’t. I have trouble putting “sounds” in print.

I have a notebook filled with action verbs and adjectives, but somehow it does not contain the calming sound of the rolling water as it comes to shore.

So I – clicked – onto the internet and went to google. Ah, google - so filled with information. Aha, there is was – a list of sounds. Whirr, I scroll down to find the ideal word.

Gurgle – no.

Whirr…(this is the sound of me scrolling)

Kapow – no.

Whirr…(scrolling again)

Then I see lapping. I’ve heard words like lapping used to describe waves rolling on shore. But, to me it sounds like something a cat does to milk.

Whirr, whirr – more word sounds…

Slosh – maybe.

Aarrgh, I just can’t seem to capture that sound. Oh well, I guess I will just have to record it tomorrow. ( On that device my husband bought and I forget to put in my pocket when I leave the house.)

Maybe, just maybe I can find the words...tomorrow.