Journal

This is an occasional journal about how my life affects my writing and my writing affects my life. This journal is not to be a classic blog, in other words it's not interactive. It will not have photos either. Or links. Nor do I expect to write in it every day. And I don't want to have to moderate the thing.

However, if you read something here that you want to respond to, send me email (janeyolen@aol.com) and I will write back. Please say whether or not you agree to have your email quoted somewhere in "Telling the True." I like getting questions from my readers--whether you are a writer or a book fancier, a teacher, librarian, or child.

Note that the order of the entries is most recent first. Entries from earlier days are archived.

May 31, 2005:

Work: Yes! I revised and sent off the Coville introduction. Then I turned to the revisions on TROLL BRIDGE. Got through four chapters. Five hours.

Doctor’s visit in-between. Going to get another shot in my back before leaving for Scotland. But setting it up timewise is difficult.

Revision letter (email) for the SEA QUEENS book. All do-able and all smart. That comes next week, after I get TROLL BRIDGE done.

It feels wonderful working on writing again. While I loved the ballet and all the attendant bits and pieces--rehearsals, dressing up, watching the girls, the swell of music etc.--writing is where my heart is. And when I go too long without writing, something deep inside me suffers.

May 26-May 30, 2005:

I mis-spoke, It was a three book week! On Saturday, my first copy of the absolutely gorgeous MEOW: Cat Stories From Around the World (Harper) arrived. Hala Wittwer’s pictures are stunning. If we are lucky, this will be a must book for cat lovers young and old.

And Adam got his first review for solo novel SINGER OF SOULS (Tor) fro Kirkus. They loved it (though no star) saying: "Well-handled fantasy noir debut, with plenty of local color, arresting musical ideas, rapidly escalating gore index and a set-up promising any number of sequels."

Otherwise it was ballet rehearsals and then the ballet performances (two of them) until the Sunday evening Gala. No writing of course. None. Zero. Zip. Oh wait--I did a draft of an Introduction to Bruce Coville's ODDLY books beng reissued in one volume. That meant getting to reread all the stories, which was a sheer delight, and took my mind off the weekend's craziness.

We were exhausted by Monday, which was to be expected, but elated. And the kitchen looks like a mausoleum, with masses of flowers--given to all three of us.

As for the ballet performance: The narration of "Swan Lake" and "Shim Chung" went well. Heidi and I hit our music cues every single time--not an easy task. I got up and down the stairs from our little stage in the orchestra pit in the dark without falling once. (Helped by florescent Xs on the steps and on the chairs.) Maddison was a brilliant squid. Every single young dancer did well and the two professional soloists from the Orlando Ballet Company were elegant perfection. We were especially fond of the ballerina, Jessica Sibley, who was as wonderfully sweet a person as she was a dynamic dancer. Heidi and I shared the dressing room with her, so we had plenty of time for chats. We also sold over 120 books, which benefited the ballet company, for which we were delighted. Both performances were near to sold out. It was brilliant.

On Saturday, Maddison also had a ballet recital with her regular ballet school so she was one pooped little girl by Sunday morning.

In fact, Sunday morning was a rush-rush day. Heidi took Glen off to the airport first thing in the morning.(She has a summer job in Hawaii.) Then my cousin Malorie and her family (husband Jeff and two teenage sons), who had come up from Stamford to see the Saturday evening performance, came over for brunch. It was hilarious to watch Maddison and the two boys on the floor doing squid moves. I think the boys had a much better appreciation of how hard ballet was after that! They wanted to re-title "Shim Chung" "The Squid."

After the Sunday afternoon performance (full of child spectators, some of whom were squawling, some crawling, some squealing, and most just having a wonderful time), we went to the Gala at the UMass Student Center, which featured a very loud band. The ballet students all danced, and a few of the adults did as well. There was some surprise news from one set of very proud grandparents who pledged a new state-of-the-art dance floor for the Amherst Ballet school, and a lot of happy (if tired) folks.

We spent Monday (Heidi, Maddison and I) at the big Northampton craft show. Bought a few things, including a house warming gift for Angela and Tony at an early dinner with them. Heidi then went to "Star Wars" with the DiT's, and I took Maddison home. She reminded me how to play chess (which I hadn’t done in 40 years!) and I beat her in a quick game, but only barely. I know, I know--that's not a nice grandmotherly thing to do. But honest, I don't know how to play well enough to lose.

May 25, 2003:

A two-book day. No, not writing two books. I received the first copies of two of my new summer/fall books. Oh, I love the feel and smell of new books. I love to caress them. And yes, the thrill is still there every single time, even after 270+ of them.

First in the mail, I got a single copy of BABY BEAR'S CHAIRS (Harcourt) with Melissa Sweet's delicious, charming, and sassy paintings. The book is oversized, in rhyme, the first of three. The next will be BABY’S BEAR'S BOOKS and then BABY BEAR'S WISHES. I don’t know if these will compete with the HOW DO DINOSAURS books, (I don't know if I will ever write anything that competes with those!) but I love Melissa's work.

Then on our front porch--which we never use, but somehow I checked today which is unusual in itself--UPS had left a big box of books from Tor. My author copies of PAY THE PIPER: A Rock and Roll Fairy Tale, which I wrote with Adam. The book looks terrific, with G Clefs on each chapter opening. I love it.

Did I read them? Of course not. I might find a mistake and that would spoil the moment. Besides, I know how they both end.

Other than that, I had PT in the morning and Heidi, Maddison, and I spent from 4-10:30 at ballet rehearsals. Who had time for anything else?

May 24, 2005:

Writer’s group noon till 3, and ballet rehearsal in the evening. In-between I did some EMILY SONNETS research and worked on revising three chapters in DRAGON’S HEART. Otherwise a dreary, rainy day.

Okay--the count of lost mss. is now up to three and one lost package of contracts. Is the moon in Uranus or something? (Old joke.)

May 23, 2005:

Diddled some more with the Emily poems and then packaged five of them up to send to the Mass Review. Ditto the DANCE book, which I emailed off to the editor as an attachment.

Had PT and then finished reading KIRA-KIRA, this year’s Newbery winner. It never caught fire for me. It is mostly telling, not showing. The editor clearly let stuff slide that should have been reworked, things like important information showing up only when the author decided to have a climactic moment. There were hardly any scenes and scarcely any dialogue. Most was straight narration. The voice was nostalgic, elegiac, that of an adult looking back, not a child’s voice in the now. The book felt like a promising first draft of a first novel. Sigh. At least it was attractively packaged. But remember--this is not the only time I have been flummoxed by the choices of Newbery and Caldecott committees.

Shelley read my journal and wrote: "Just wondering if you have ever sent a revision to your agent and she didn't like it."

So it’s time for the Agent Talk. Or at least a small part of it.

Agents come in many shapes and sizes and lots of flavors. In the matter of revisions, some are very hands-on and get their authors to rewrite extensively before sending a mss. out. Some are very hands-off asserting that it's the editor’s job to ask for revisions. Some refuse to send out manuscripts they feel need work and some send out everything as long as the authors insist on it. Some help the writer shape a book for a particular market, some are simply cheerleaders, some make suggestions, and some are completely hands-off.

My old agent (my beloved MEM with whom I’d had a 38-year relationship) discussed the publishing industry extensively with me. Occasionally she suggested I try something new--like younger picture books or novelty books. She saw that as a stretching exercise, I think. Occasionally she might remark that a mss. needed more work. But mostly she was hands-off. The last five years we were together, she rarely said anything about my work at all, just sent it out. Though when it came to THE RADIATION SONNETS she was a passionate advocate. But that was personal. She knew and loved my husband David about whom the book was written, and she was already suffering from her own third bout with the cancer that eventually killed her.

My new agent, Elizabeth Harding, was thoroughly trained by MEM and shares many of her positions on how an agent works with clients. However the difference is that Elizabeth is much more open in her comments, always telling me how she feels about a piece. (Though I have to admit so far it has all been extremely positive!)

I do know others who worked closely with MEM who are much more of the Revisioning Agent model, like Scott Treimel. The friends of mine who work with him appreciate that.

So when looking for an agent, you need to find out early what kind of an agent you are getting. You need to be comfortable with that mode. I, personally, don’t want to revise for the agent. I want to revise for an editor. YMMV. <Your mileage may vary.>

May 19-May 22:

My 45th reunion at Smith College. Class of ’60. These women are awesome: smart, dedicated, intelligent, educated, passionate, funny--and exhausting. We talked nonstop from Thursday till Sunday noon. I could barely see straight to drive home! Luckily it was only 12 minutes away!

My back and knee did me proud. I walked everywhere on campus without problems, though Saturday night I had a bad leg cramp in bed and had to take a muscle relaxant. And Friday night I must have eaten something wrong because I ended up with stomach problems. That lucky 12-minute drive home was a real blessing then. I was fine in the morning though a bit--shall we say--drained.

I had brought a bunch of my books for our class brag tables, and so many people wanted to buy them, I had to bring more and more each day. I also traded for a gorgeous scarf made by a friend who does batik work.

One of our classmates, the well-regarded painter Janet Fish, had artwork at the museum and that was wonderful to see. I didn't remember her but those who know her said that's because she basically buried herself in the studio during our four years at Smith.

Sunday afternoon, after I took it easy for awhile, I worked for four hours on a last pass over the DANCE book revision. Will send it out tomorrow. And I worked a bit on the Emily sonnets. Caught up on mail: email and snail. Answered some phone calls. And fell into bed.

May 18, 2005:

Early morning voice therapy, then home to work on the DANCE revisions. Afternoon I worked on the DANCE bibliography. Inching forward. We are in that part of the book where we want to be anywhere but There!

Flurries of emails about books already under contract, and one about a proposal someone is waiting on, and one about a hand-delivered mss and art proposal that has gone missing. (Doesn’t their mailroom actually deliver their mail???) The Canadian co-publisher of FAIRY TALE FEASTS promises a revision letter some time in the near future. No books rejected--but none accepted either. (Just so you have this straight, I have 22 books out on offer, 9 are novel or chapter book proposals, the rest picture books all written. If I wanted to, I could also send out a YA fantasy trilogy proposal, two YA historical novel proposals, three YA fantasy novel proposals, and 2 adult fantasy novel proposals. The proposals and initial chapters of the YA stuff is already written. But in my solo novels I like to finish the book first.)

Otherwise it was simply a long afternoon slog through the DANCE revisions and bibliography. Sigh.

Finally, as the sun began to set, I went back over the four Emily sonnets. I read them aloud, slowly, listening to both sense and sound, to the beats and the movement of each line. And I changed--I think--two words in all. "Mail-clad" changed to "moon-clad," "A" to "As," Small changes indeed. But ah, they are important ones.

Also I jotted down this short journal entry. Define "jotted." I usually write a sketch, notes during the day if I am near the computer. Or a round-up right before going to bed. The next morning, I revise it twice, then post.

May 17, 2005:

I sent this to a writer’s listserve when someone asked what "Too slight" meant from a picture book rejection letter.

Some things "Too slight" might mean:
1. Not enough meat in the story.
2. Not enough illustratable situations.
3. Not strong enough in today's market for us to gamble on.
4. I hate it but don't know why.
5. I hate it but to tell you why will make me look like a fool.
6. It's not perfect.
7. It's too much like something we just published that didn't work.
8. I like it but no one else on the committee did, so now I don't like it any more.
9. I hate it but we are publishing the same book by <celebrity of your choice>.
10. It confuses me.
All or none of the above.

After PT, I checked in at the Northampton-based Interlink Publishers to find out about FAIRY TALE FEASTS, the cookbook Heidi and I finished for them almost two years ago. The illustrator is a Canadian--Philippe Beha--which we’d been told about a year ago. But we have had no revision letter and they are expecting to bring it out in the spring of ’06. So we’re understandably nervous. The editor wasn’t there, so I learned nothing more.

Then on to writer’s group, then home to work over Heidi’s latest revisions of the DANCE book. We are very close to done.

Checked with Adam who has written one of the two songs for the CD for PIPER. It’s going to be a close thing as to whether we pull this off in time for BEA, but I am sure we’ll have something for ALA.

May 16, 2005:

A real patchwork day. I began by working on the rest of the chapter revisions for MANY MANSIONS, three hours worth. Then I segued into commenting on Heidi’s revisions on the DANCE book, another hour.

Next I turned to the two new Emily sonnets. It is always amazing how long it takes to change a single word in a poem! And often the next day, one changes the word back. In one poem I changed "to unshadow" to "to cushion" and I know those are two entirely different ideas. Not to mention different syllabic counts. I am still searching for the right thing. In the other poem I changed the line "She was human every single day" which was horrendous to the slightly better "Though human in every other way." Both changes need work.

I thought of moving on to BURD JENNET, changed one word, and felt it was the wrong day to work on that novel. Just intinct, but I always go with it.

And of course there were fan mail letters to sign, books to sign, editors to write (I heard that reviewers already had hardcover copies of PAY THE PIPER and Adam and I did not! Time for a nudge.) More scheduling for ALA.

A small and annoying contretemps: I had been asked to speak in Sturbridge for the Mass. School Librarians conference and had accepted. It was on the calendar. They were going to get back to me in two weeks after the committee met, with actual terms--money etc. Several other organizations wanted me to speak at that same time, but I turned them down. Four months later (yesterday) going over my various speaking engagements for the fall, I noticed that I’d never heard back. Sent off an email to the woman who’d made the offer. She wrote back today saying that they’d chosen someone else. CHOSEN SOMEONE ELSE? ???? I’d never been told that this was a contest. I'd accepted an invitation, thought it a done deal, turned down other (better) paying gigs, and was never even told that I’d been dis-inivited. I wrote back--rewriting the email three times and running it by Heidi twice--telling the librarian that they really needed to be more careful in the future, that authors planned months in advance etc., she sent back a terse: "Mea culpa." So a warning to authors out there. Watch out for the Mass School Librarians Conference.Get everything in writing early.

Went back to a brand new Emily poem called "Lies" (she wrote that her nephew Ned inherited her "ardor for the lie", the poem being about how writers tell the truth through lies. And in the evening I began another one and even managed a revision--"The Poet Asks" It’s about poetry living long after its Maker. Enormous work still needed on them, of course.

Dealt with a movie request to see PAY THE PIPER. And a request to put HOW DO DINOSAURS GET WELL SOON into Cree. (Wow!)

Went back to the "Lies" poem before calling it a day. Er--a night!.

Yes, if this were a patchwork, it would be a Crazy Quilt.

Update on the B&N fiasco: My Hero Liz followed through and found out that Harcourt had paperwork on email sent to me in December (when I was on book tour and without email) but I had no file with any of said email, nor had the date found its way to either of my calendars. (And Harcourt had no email back from me.) The young marketing person who evidently sent me the message, sent it her last day in the office before going off on maternity leave, so there had been no follow-up. So, either aol ate the email to me as spam(which I only found out about in January) or all my fail-safe stuff--file folders, email folders, and two calendars--didn’t work at the same time. We are going to try and redo the reading in the fall. Sigh. No blame.

May 15, 2005:

Well, it doesn’t seem to matter what I think I should be working on, I work on what I see. Or what pops up in front of me. And today, what popped up was the mss (retyped by Heidi) of a novel I started back in the 1980s--MANY MANSIONS. So I began revising the first ten chapters which I’d already written. It is fantasy grounded in the here-and-now about a family that finds a series of hidden rooms into the past in the house they’ve just moved into. It's very odd revising something started that long ago. My style has changed just enough to make me cringe in places. In other places I think to myself, "WHAT was I meaning here?" So I did a lot of slash and bash. The central idea is still terrific. And now it's better written.I got about four chapters done. Three hours.

Later Heidi and I lay on my bed and went over the narration for "Swan Lake." We giggled as we realized this was a little bit reminiscent of when she was a child and I read to her in bed

I also had a brunch with sf writer Jim Brunet, in town with his wife to visit their Smith College daughter, freshman Jillian. The four of us walked about Northampton for almost an hour, waiting for our reservation at Sylvester’s to open up, and then had a wonderful meal.The one problem with most of the Noho restaurants is they don't take actual reservations and this, of course, was Smith graduation so LOTS of folk in town.

Yesterday, in a fit of something-or-other, I’d called Adam and apologized mightily. "I am stupid, stupid, stupid," I told him. "I'm not arguing," he answered, "but I am listening." And then I told him what had occurred to me in the shower. Since we are going to be at both BEA and IRA together, why not put two of the songs from PIPER on a CD and print up a couple hundred, 100 to give out at each convention for free. Why I hadn't considered that a month or so ago, I don’t know. And frankly, I don’t know if he can pull it off in time. Especially since this afternoon I had to send him the lyrics again as they had gotten misplaced. So the thing is in his court now.

May 14, 2005:

We went out early doing errands (prescription refills, cat food, etc.) and then picked up Angela DiTerlizzi for a Zanna blitz (got Maddison's dress for the Gala which will be after the ballet performance) and then lunch with Tony who, having finished all the art for the big Spiderwick extravaganza Field Guide, is feeling no pain.

Then I took Maddison to Easthampton (a 25-minute drive) to meet her friend Devon for an overnight, while Heidi drove to Amherst ballet to finish work on the narration with the music. I got home at 3.

Which left little time for (yup!) writing.

I did manage a draft of a new sonnet about Emily Dickinson's white dress, using a Billy Collins love poem to ED as a starting place. Not sure I like the poem (mine, not his--which is pretty erotic without saying too much). Mine is about the white dress as a kind of uniform or habit. . .and needs LOTS of work still.

There was a message on the machine to call Gail at Barnes & Noble. She wondered why I hadn’t come to the reading I was scheduled for that morning. Because NO ONE FREAKING TOLD ME THERE WAS ONE! Someone at Harcourt has dropped the ball in a major way on this one because I was never even contacted to see if I had any time free to do a B&N reading of GRANDMA’S HURRYING CHILD, much less get it on my calendar. Sigh. So there were a bunch of kids ready for my reading and parents ready to buy the book and me wandering around the countryside within 5 miles of the store. . .shuttling Maddison, about whom the book was written.

I hate it when this sort of thing happens, as it does rather more frequently than most people know. I remember going to a book store as part of a tour with Nancy Willard and though I had all the information on a sheet sent to me by the publisher, somehow the bookstore had the wrong date. They were expecting us a week later when we were due elsewhere. Besides, they had no books yet so we couldn't even leave signed stock. And last year when Heidi and I did a reading/signing for the Umass bookstore along with Jane Dyer and Leslea Newman, no one from the bookstore had bothered to notify the Umass children's lit folks who would have assigned their students to attend! And so the flubs and flops go on. My husband insists that "publishing business" is an oxymoron! And there are days I believe he is absolutely right. This being one of them.

May 13, 2005:

Up early to see off Heidi and Maddison who were going to Boston on a school field trip, I suddenly got one of those muscle spasms in my right calf. Unlike the usual ones, which go away after a couple of minutes, this one kept on for over half an hour and every time it seemed to have gone away and I tried to move, it cramped up again. Finally, Maddison made me a hot pack and I took some ibupofin and Tylenol. Heidi and Maddison left. And at last the pain subsided.

Luckily I had a doctor’s appointment later in the morning. He gave me a muscle relaxant to take at bedtime. Thought that all the pains are still a result of the fall. We are going to give the cortisone another couple of weeks to work.

And speaking of work, after getting the prescription filled, I did about two hours of revision on HIDE & SEEK.

Then I read through a college classmate’s book proposal based on her Master's thesis on Katherine Hepburn. I’ll talk to her about it next week at reunion.

Next I turned to a new Emily Dickinson poem after reading a piece by her grown niece, Martha Dickinson Bianchi,(published in 1914) who spoke of Emily as "of fairy lineage, akin to the frost on the nursery pane in Winter or the humming bird or Midsummer. . ." I did a complete draft in under two hours, but this is a FIRST draft, meaning there will be much work still to be done. Again. And again, And again. In the Bianchi piece, it’s clear that the children saw Dickinson as a quasi-grownup, who connived with them against the real grownups (their parents and grandparents, their Aunt Lavinia, the family servants.) So the poem tries to address that facet of her personality, her betweenness.

Sent flowers to a storyteller friend who'd been in a truly horrendous head-on collision (alive but with a lot of broken bones--thank goodness for seat belts and air bags) and had a long talk with Barry Moser, back from a heart attack and bypass surgery. My friends are dropping like flies!

May 12, 2005:

I received this from Bonnie today who had just discovered the journal: "I started writing late. I taught 2nd grade for 33 years and raised 2 kids before I realized I wanted to be a writer. Wasn't published until I turned sixty."

And it got me thinking about aging as a writer. I was published very early (perhaps too early) and did my growing up in print. I sold my first book on my 22nd birthday. (It came out two years later.) One of my best friends, Patricia MacLachlan, started writing in her forties. My daughter Heidi discovered she was a writer in her late twenties. Son Adam wrote his first novel in his mid thirties (though he’d been doing song lyrics and short stories well before that.) Christopher Paolini wrote his bestselling book EREGON when he was fifteen. Gordon Korman’s first book was published when he was thirteen. Whether any of these folk are authors you like is immaterial. We are talking about writing age. However, from this meager sampling, I think it’s clear: there is no right time to begin writing, there is only writer time. When you are ready--you write. Maybe a writer needs to wait until he or she has something to write about. For some that comes early, for others much later in life.

And for all those people who meet me and say, "Oh, when I find some time I will write." Well, maybe they will. But if there are discrete packets of time lying around, I want to know where they are. I sure could use a few more hours in each day.

Went to voice therapy today and actually quite enjoyed it. Mostly I am doing the right thing for this reflux problem, but I need to be drinking more water. And then some more after that.

Received a mss. from Otis Twelve today, We’d become friends at the Whidby Island Writer’s Conference and I promised to read and critique it for him as it's magical realism. Yesterday I got a phone call from a college classmate who is sending me a mss. proposal. Perhaps this is the time to remind folk: DO NOT SEND MSS. TO AUTHORS WITHOUT ASKING and certainly not without enclosing SASEs. In fact I do NOT normally read mss. outside of workshops. You have to be my best friend or an old college boyfriend (this happened recently) or a close relative or one of my kids for me to make--or take--the time for this. (Remember those discrete packets of time mentioned above?) Besides, most people who send mss. to utter strangers to critique don’t really want a professional reading at all. They just want a pat on the back, the name of the author's agent, or her editor’s private email, or the secret handshake.

FexExp dropped off a package and in it was a special Waterman pen with my name engraved on it, plus a citation for having been named one of the Writer Magazine’s winners of the 2004 Writers Awards. The citation reads in part: "Your work exemplifies the many ways in which writers can make a difference by informing, inspiring, and motivating others." It had been announced in the January 2005 issue, and I had (quite honestly) forgotten about it. So this was a lovely re-memory. I only wish that my old friend Sylvia Burack, long the publisher of The Writer, were still alive so we could toast this together. Not only was Sylvia one of the Great Ladies of publishing, she helped fund the Poetry Center at Smith College, and was always at the forefront of educational and writer causes. I still miss her though she’s been gone a little over two years.

Heidi and I did an hour local radio show with Catherine Fair, the head of Amherst Ballet, about the upcoming performances of the two ballets from our BAREFOOT BOOK OF BALLET STORIES. It went well, though Catherine had been nervous ahead of time. I'd assured her--with Heidi and me there--she wouldn’t have to open her mouth unless she wanted to. PS: She did just fine.

Notice what’s missing today? Any writing.

May 11, 2005:

Work today: email letters to three different editors and my agent. One chapter revision of the DRAGON book. Did some DANCE revisions. Started on a picture book (with Heidi) about animal camouflage: HIDE & SEEK. I know this all sounds piecemeal--and it is. A little bit here, a little bit there, before you know it a hearty stew! That's simply the way I work, fiddling here and there, until something big takes over and I go exclusive in full bore, long tunnel mode, till the end. As I did with the PIRATES book most recently.

My back: I seem to have developed a bizarre pinched nerve in the right buttock. Not sure if this is new or more of the same. Annoying either way.

My voice (and problems with esophageal reflux): much better though I go tomorrow for a voice evaluation. The doctor had indicated it might take 4-6 weeks of medication etc. and so it has. I am rarely coughing now, hardly needing cough drops in order to speak, not waking in the night with coughing spasms. All to the good.

Awards: So I got a lovely letter from my old hometown wanting to honor me at a special luncheon. And I am terrifically moved by it, except that it’s scheduled for Oct 2 when I am in Scotland. (I get back on Oct 12. Tickets are already purchased.) Sigh.

We have begun checking into plans for building a house for Heidi and her girls.

And Heidi and I watched "Stage Beauty" a movie I probably liked far more than it deserved.

May 10, 2005:

I spent over two hours revising MY FATHER KNOWS and read it to the group and they liked it a lot. So I sent it off to my agent. Given the state of the picture book market, I have little hope that it will sell. But writing the thing was important, not selling it. I love my writer's group, their writing, their passion for the written word. Even when things are difficult in their lives, even when things are despairing in the marketplace, their dedication and perserverence continue to both astonish and motivate me.

So between the two hours of revision, picking up the house for the group, and then the three hours of group, my day was pretty well over. I worked on bills in the late afternoon, did a bit more ALA business (setting up signings), and then relaxed, spring fever getting the best of me. The birds are singing madly, the air is redolent with garden flower smells. I am abuzz with the growing world, but not with literature right now.

Glendon made a special Mother’s Day dinner (yeah--late, but we called it Mexican Mother’s Day, which made it okay.) And I acted as her second in command, her "fairy grandmother" as her boyfriend dubbed me. Heidi ate then went right to bed. Her allergies have laid her low. My back was not great in the morning, but I seem fine this evening. Hope I am going in the right direction.

May 9, 2005:

A good writing day. (It feels wonderful to say that again!)

Not a great back day, but that’s something else. Am still recovering from the fall.

I worked for two hours on a complete first draft of the picture book I’d begun at the Poetry Blast: MY FATHER KNOWS THE NAMES OF THINGS. It simply sang through my bones. I read it to Heidi--who loved it. Will try it tomorrow on my writer’s group. Of course with 24 unsold picture books already, this was really not what I wanted or needed to do! However, when these pieces insist on coming out, I have to let them. I leave the selling to my agent and try not to waste soul space on the rejections.

I also did a hefty two chapter (four hour) revision of the DRAGON’S HEART book. Trying to make it better and get up the nerve to work on it some more.

A long talk with my HOW DO DINOSAURS editor, the marvelous Bonnie V, who assures me the two new Dino board books are a go. (Though which board books is not yet clear!) Also she gave me the great news that Book of the Month Club is taking HOW DO DINOSAURS EAT THEIR MEALS. And eventually the next big book will be HOW DO DINOSAURS GO TO SCHOOL which I have alread written and sent to her.

I also read granddaughter Glendon’s poetry (she really is quite a good poet) and gave her a couple of critiques, which she took in good stead. She’s done with college until fall, and has moved back into the house. It makes my writing space and time even more cramped.

Answered questions for a couple more interviews. Answered a lot of fan email. Set up a couple of book tour trips for the fall and next spring.

And had a good starter conversation with the editor at Writer’s Digest Books. They will be bringing out the updated and expanded (10,000 more words!) version of TAKE JOY which I have suggested they call TAKE JOY TAKE TWO. They are looking to bring it out January 06. That’s pretty darn soon! They were hoping for an electronic version of the published book to work from, but the Writer Press editor and I did so much editing on the galleys, I was sure any version I could send on (and did) would probably be pretty useless to them.

Heidi, Maddison, and I watched "National Treasure Hunt" together. Nicholas Cage sleepwalking through a role. That’s two hours of my life I will never have back!

I went to bed with the Stephen King book ON WRITING which I have been dipping into for several months. It’s very well done but doesn’t have the depth of soul that the Julius Lester book on writing does, though it’s clever and full of typical King riffs. Interesting to be reading the two books simultaneously, though. If I were a beginning writer, I would probably get more practical advice from the King, but would learn more about the heart of a writer from the Lester book.

May 8, 2005:

Mother’s Day--Maddison asked for help making her mom breakfast in bed. So I did that first thing, and we gave her a feta and herb omelet, cranberry bread, and chai. She made me a Mother’s Day dinner, which Glendon and her boyfriend Jason attended! Plus I got a new pair of earrings.

Phone calls from both my boys.

I read some more of Julius Lester's wise little book on writing. His section on trickster tales is right on! And then I galloped through Bob Harris’ first solo novel, LEONARDO AND THE DEATH MACHINE. I had a ball reading it. It’s a young Da Vinci novel, full of political intrigue and derring do and, of course, art. Only--it is a British publication, so not available to most of you reading this journal.

Work? Two online interviews, filing, and a bit of bill paying. But give me a break--it's Mother’s Day.

May 7, 2005:

Really achy today, on the left side. I am not surprised. So instead of going to the Eric Carle Museum with Heidi and Maddison, I stayed with my legs up, working on the laptop, and finishing reading the QUEEN’S FOOL novel.

I revised a poem, "Going for Gold."

And then I set up the latest revision of the DRAGON’S HEART novel, noodling it a little. It’s strange to admit, but I am a little (maybe more than a little) afraid of this book. A foot or two past apprehensive and into scared. The stupid thing has been around so long, resonant in my soul, but without a real plot, and now I have accepted a contract and have to actually write it. I have ten chapters down already, setting up the major threads, but I think even those chapters still need work. I worry I can't do it, want it to be over with so I can get on with my writing life (and those dozen other novels I want to write.)

I know--whine, whine, whine. Once I can get back into the book, I think things will be all right.

I was invited to be Guest of Honor at a major sf convention (I think they want to wait and announce it themselves) and have accepted for next May. A poem I’d forgotten sending has been taken in a new journal. The poem is "Black Dog Nights" and the journal Jabberwocky. I am being interviewed for that initial volume as well.

So you can see, besides agonizing and a bit of revising, beyond some email and invitations, not much happened today, either in writing or in life. Though I think it’s good to sit quietly and catch up to one’s soul every once in a while. After five days of rushing about, I am not unhappy to be in the corner watching the wind puzzle through the trees.

May 2-6, 2005:

Hi ho, Monday we went off to San Antonio for IRA--International Reading Assn, not Irish Republican Army, a mistake outsiders often make.

Heidi and I got to sit together on the first leg to Atlanta, but not on the second leg to San Antonio. But we used the time to read. I am into a fun Elizabethan historical novel by Phillipa Gregory called QUEEN’S FOOL Yeah, I was worried, but it’s not about Mary Q of S but Elizabeth and Bloody Mary and besides, it's starring a Jewish Converso and is an adult book.) Though it's more of a jumped-up romance novel than I usually read <SNOB ALERT> it was still fun.

We got to the hotel--the Valencia which is very oddly masculine minimalist, dark woods and faux fur throws. As if the designer were going for a TexMexViking look. And strangely not really ready for guests, ie two women guests, and there were only 4 hangers in the closet! And only two drawers in the dresser.

Off we raced to the Harper party, walking along the lovely San Antonio Riverwalk. Lots of old friends were there. However, the ambient noise level was so high I couldn’t hear myself and by the time we arrived, the food was all gone.

Eight of us went on to dinner, including Lee Bennett Hopkins and Rebecca Kai Dotlich among others. Then Heidi and I went to meet Linda Sue Park at her hotel, with some others for drinks. (Toni Buzzeo, Dave Lubar) Yes, I am dropping names, but they are my friends--so sue me! Actually, I worked hard this IRA to spend small group time with friends--other writers--because otherwise we are ships passing in the night. At conferences we give out endlessly to our fans, to teachers and librarians: posing for pictures, signing books, giving speeches or readings, making small talk. And we do it gladly--it’s part of the business. But rarely do we make time or take time to be with our colleagues. So I was delighted at this conference to be able to do just that. Or maybe I am just getting old and cranky!

Tuesday morning Heidi and I had a lovely early breakfast with editor Judy O’Malley who is doing my SEA QUEENS nonfiction book. She’s a good friend as well as a fine editor, and while we did a tiny bit of business, mostly the three of us just had a good time talking. (Ie--gossiping.) Then we walked along theRiverwalk to the convention center,savoring the slow, shallow, river that winds through the middle of the city. At the convention, Heidi and I had a series of signings--including for Boyds Mills, Reading Matters, Keith Distributors, Simon and Schuster.
All my signings went well--steady, selling out any of the books--except for the Harper signing where barely ten copies were bought and beside me the line for Meg Cabot grew and grew. And this was a good lesson in humility and in understanding where I stand in the publishing food chain. Mid list high, but not super star status. I remember the time I signed between Eric Carle and Arnold Lobel and just smiled a lot at the thin air. I remember escorting Madeleine L’Engle around Smith College and girls fainting in coils before her. I remember doing a four-store tour with Tomie dePaola where people waited in lines that stretched around the corner in the rain. And how last week only three adults and a child came to the reading Heidi and I did in Northampton. It’s good to be honestwith oneself about these things.

As always, at these conferences, we loaded up on free books and posters, enjoying the buzz about certain books and certain authors. (Though there is too much emphasis--in my opinion--on non-book supportive stuff, teacher guides, phonics aids etc.) Yup--getting old and cranky!

We raced off to a party given by Penguin Putnam, then went to the Harcourt Reading Reception. Harcourt is the only publisher who regularly does a reading and this time there were ten readers (I was not one) who were all equally wonderful, including Colleen Salley, Mem Fox, Debra Frasier. They read from new books, excited the audience with tidbits about the making of the work--it’s the hottest ticket in town. Must have been 1000 in the audience. Why all the other publishers don’t do the same, I don’t know. Authors, illustrators--readers. All gathered at one convention. Hmmmmm. It seem to me to be a no-brainer. But Harcourt is the only one to do it.

After that, there was an intimate dinner party for the Harcourt trade editors and marketing people and selected authors, of which Heidi and I were two. Again, the smallness of the group, the more intimate setting, was wonderful. But all too soon, Heidi and I (along with Bruce Coville and a few others) left for the Simon & Schuster dessert party. We got there at 10:30, and were back at the hotel an hour later, because we were exhausted! However, we did get to talk for a minute to our editor of the UNSOLVED MYSTERIES FROM HISTORY series.

Wednesday, Heidi and I had a quick breakfast by ourselves and then raced off with Allyn Johnston of Harcourt to the conference where I had more signings.

Then we grabbed a quick lunch with Liz Van Doren of Harcourt, our NEST book editor, who is now my True Harcourt Hero. She requested that she be my go-to person at Harcourt, even if an outside editor is working on my fantasy novels. With one sentence, she solved all our problems. We also renamed the BABY BEAR books so they can have a kind of brand name: BABY BEARS CHAIRS is already the first book, so we are calling the next two BABY BEAR’S BOOKS and BABY BEAR’S WISHES.

My Scholastic editor of the DINOSAUR books was there for a flying 24 hour visit. She came over while I was signing at Harcourt to tell me that Mark Teague has been signed up for two more DINOSAUR board books. While I am delighted, I am also puzzled. I sent her two mss. months ago, and don’t know if the two books we are discussing are those or something else entirely since I haven’t been signed up! I expect all will be revealed eventually, though this is certainly a strange business I am in.

Then I sat with the Tor folk--Susan Chang and Kathleen Doherty--and talked them through the revised GHOULS SCHOOL KIDS book idea, which they seem quite interested in though neither has read the manuscript yet.
In the evening, I had a lovely dinner with Susan Chang while Heidi went off to dinner with the Sleeping Bear Press people who are doing her Massachusetts counting book, ONE IF BY LAND. Hurrah!

Thursday Heidi went home very early, and I raced off for an 8:30 signing, then I had about an hour to actually get to look around the convention. I went striding along. And--wouldn’t you know, I tripped--and fell flat on my face, breaking my fall with my good (left) knee and my left forearm. As I lay on the carpeted convention floor, I did a quick body assessment and the folks around me thought I’d passed out. Suddenly four of them were dialing 911 on their cell phones and one, a nurse, insisted on checking me out. They wanted the EMTs to come, but I assured them that I really was fine, though a bit shaken. Mostly I worried about my back. I knew I’d be aching the next day or two. Besides, I had another signing to do, and then went back to the hotel to rest until I was part of the big Poetry Blast.

Ah--the Poetry Blast. Great poets, but lousy end-of-convention time slot. So there we were, 14 of us, including Lee Bennett Hopkins, Eileen Spinelli, Walter Dean Myers, Janet Wong, Marilyn Singer, and others in a ballroom that sat 4000 and an audience of about 50 teachers. Sigh.

After the Blast, I went back to my room and ibuprofined myself. Lay down a bit. Then went out to dinner with a Harper editor (not one of mine) and poet Nikki Grimes, which was a lovely end to the convention. Then I walked along the Riverwalk--magical with lights--to my hotel, packed my bags, and went to sleep.

Friday early I got on a plane to Atlanta, sitting in the middle seat between two reading teachers. I upgraded on the next leg and had a lovely rest of the trip home.

This was a pure business week and not a bit of writing in sight. Except for the start of a picture book which I began scribbling on the back of a poem at the Poetry Blast. Not sure anything will come of it but it is called (tentatively) MY FATHER KNOWS THE NAMES OF THINGS. However, I got three major pieces of business accomplished: a lot of book sales/signings, conversations about upcoming projects with at least four editors (O’Malley, Van Doren, Chang, Verberg), and had some in-depth conversations with colleagues about publishing problems we are all facing.

Came home to some good news and some movement on several fronts: personalized business cards with the cover for MEOW supplied by Harper, the video of HOW DO DINOSAURS GET WELL SOON which I narrated, audio book contract for PERFECT WIZARD, email from the editor of the updated TAKE JOY, a local Umass student who wants to do a local production of BRIAR ROSE, and flowers from son Jason for Mother’s Day.

So tomorrow I will turn to the next things on my list: healing from the fall, more PT, and getting back to writing. Simultaneously of course. Isn’t that how all writers live? We are the ultimate multi-taskers.

May 2, 2005:

Practically on the way out the door for the San Antonio trip, I found this in my email. It gave me (and I hope all of you) much to munch on. It’s a comment from Sheryl in Australia, about my list of Ten Ways to Rise. Her additions are in brackets.

1. We can write for it.
2. We can write beyond it.
<and we can write what we care about and what is important to us. I have learned this lesson well - writing just to sell makes me uninspired, formulaic, cliched and dull. As long as I write what inspires me, I have come to believe this will in turn reach others far more effectively.>
3. We can invent new ways to market ourselves and our works successfully.
<Yes - websites are great for this - especially when I can't do many school things.>
4. We can watch what is making a difference in sales and do likewise.
<Or avoid what has been done to death.>
5. We can network more.
6. We can complain less.
<And remember that networking is about giving as much as taking. This was made clear over and over again at the weekend - there is always something you can give back.>
7. We can work closer with our editors, agents, publicists when they let us, override them when they will not.
<I am often surprised at how publicists are unaware of opportunities or openings for publicity - then I remember that they only have their own networks and mine are so different and varied. It's as much my job to promote my book and help them as it is theirs to promote me. And it has to be said - editors are not our enemies. Probably our "enemies" are the bean counters who produce horrible contracts and focus on the dollars to the exclusion of all else. Editors have to work with them too.>
8. We can help publicize our friends' books.
<Absolutely!! Do you have the FFF Club? (Facing Front or Forward). Whenever you go into a bookshop you get all your friends' books (and your own) and turn them to face the front - so book buyers can see them.>
9. We can be outstanding and outspoken book advocates.
<and don't let people dismiss children's books or us as "not real books or writers">.
10. And we will rise.
<And feel better for it!>

See you all in five days (I get home Friday) with a convention round up. As I am having meals with two of my editors, and seeing a bunch of others at signings, I am hoping to have news. And perhaps comments on the book business and books of note I see at the conference. Of course, I have been fooled before. But that’s the thing about this business--and this life. We continue to hope, sometimes in the face of irrefutable proof to the opposite. I think that’s called Faith.

May 1: 2005:

Spent much of the day in pre-prep for the five-day IRA trip to San Antonio with Heidi. She and Maddison were away most of the afternoon at ballet rehearsal. But I did laundry (mine and theirs.) Cleaned the kitchen. Prepped the dinner. Packed my bags.

We also took about an hour to go to several open-house showings of for sale properties in Hatfield. The two houses next door to ours have now accepted offers (way over what we were ready to give) so our fall-back plan is to build a house for Heidi. We already own the land, which helps a great deal. I spoke to a builder and have set up a meeting for a week from Monday.

I also spent the day reading through a lot of anthologies and websites searching for sf/fantasy stories published in 1905 (for the possible new YEARS BEST and found a few, including some absolutely impenetrable Lord Dunsany and a lovely book of Laurence Housman’s fairy tales.

Spoke to Adam, who castigated me for forgetting his birthday yesterday. Well, I didn’t forget--I had sent him a whopping big check two weeks ago for it. I just. . .forgot to say Happy Happy on the day! Mea Mommy Culpa!